#One Piece x Winc Club AU

[alexoreality]

Hello again, I think you are never stop seeing me.

To the Winx x one piece au, I have one question...

From where they are? Like their kingdom.

You said that Luffy's mom is from Domino, but his father? Maybe from Stella's kingdom? The sun and all?

Shanks is from Muse's kingdom, just make sense and the girl loves him, he gives the best parties od the kingdom.

Jimbe is from Aisha's because yes.

Usopp is from Flora's, I think Sanji was a prince or at least a noble but was raised in another kingdom.

So many things to think.

Ps: as you can clearly see I am really good remember the name of the places

Luffy is a fairy from Domino (when Bloom found out, you best bet she was SUPER protective of him, she wasn't the lone survivor of Domino! There was someone else!)

Yes, Dragon and Garp (and the entirety of the Monkey D family, not the entire clan. Originates from Solaria)

Shanks is from Melody! and Musa is a big fan of Uta!! And she's a big fan of Musa too! (Shanks adopted Musa ig?? Unofficially officially adopted, here here!)

Jimbe is from Andros, like all Fishmen. he guards over Aisha but respects her strength as a fairy.

Usopp is from Linphea!! (Helia and Flora adopting Usopp as their baby bro?? Hello??)

Franky is FROM ZENITHH And Timmy and Tecna are always in awe of his inventions, especially when its made by Earth's outdated (for them) technology!

Brook is an deceased yet well-known musician in Melody, when the Royal family of the Kingdom realized he was alive and well. They accepted him back immediately.

[scuderiahoney]

Oscar Piastri x reader // in motion part 3

hockey au part 3: a walk in near the park, a surprising team photo, and the semester comes to a close. 6.2k words

warnings: mentions of sports injury, mentions of bullying, alcohol, academic stress, final exams

Oscar has spent a lot of his life on the move. He moved to the US from Australia for high school at a pretty young age, just to try and play hockey. Looking back, it sounds crazy. What’s even crazier is that it actually worked. He’d play for club teams and in leagues and travel absolutely anywhere if it gave him time on the ice. And then he ended up on a college team and stayed put for two years, and honestly, it felt strange.

Over that time, he got good at putting things in boxes. Keeping life organized. Not so much in a sense of clutter and things having a place- his room is a mess, there’s laundry to be done, and his hockey locker is a disaster- but more so in his head. His friendships and relationships get categorized, information filed away, grouped together. Not by importance or value, but by… context. Hockey friends in one box. Family in another. People like coaches and managers and executives in a third. Moving somewhere new always shakes the boxes up.

By late November, though, Oscar’s feeling a little bit more comfortable in his own skin. He’s found his place in the team, he has weekly lunches with teammates, and he’s even made some friends outside of hockey. His old coach, Mark, says that’s a big piece of it. That it’s good to have something other than sport, just in case it all falls apart, or it doesn’t work out. People to fall back on who aren’t just there for hockey.

Oscar wants to say that his teammates would still be friends with him even if he stopped playing, for some reason, but the truth is that he’s been burned by other overly ambitious hockey kids way too often to truly believe it. That’s half the reason he’s on the Timberwolves now, why he left his old school and team behind. Things feel better here. Lando has an old friend who used to play hockey who still hangs around the house sometimes- Max, the other Max. (Oscar doesn’t call him that to his face.) So maybe Lando at least wouldn’t ditch him if he quit.

And then there’s you, too. Oscar’s not quite sure when you went from being an enigma he struggled to place into one of his carefully organized boxes in his head to, well, this.

You’re sitting across from him at the dining table in his house, one finger tracing the words in the textbook in front of you. You have a TimTam in your other hand-you seem to have developed a fondness for them, the same way that Oscar seems to have developed a fondness for you. The late afternoon sun is shining into the room through the sliding glass door and onto you. Oscar shakes his head to try to clear it.

As he does, you groan and drop your face into the textbook with a solid thud- he winces. “I hate physics.”

He holds back a laugh, because he knows you genuinely are frustrated. “Does slamming your face on the words help?”

You shrug. “Maybe, if I just sit here like this, the knowledge will seep into my brain.”

He hums. “Pretty sure that’s not how it works.”

“Right, because you know everything,” you mumble. “Genius man.”

He rolls his eyes and pushes away from the table. “Come on. Time for a break.”

“I don’t need a break, I need to learn…” you sigh and turn your head, pressing your cheek to the book and looking at him with one eye. “What are we studying again?”

Oscar fixes you with a disapproving look and heads towards the front door. He knows you’ll follow. By the time he makes it to the entryway, you’re hot on his heels, watching curiously as he pulls his shoes on.

“Where are you going?” You ask.

“We’re going on a walk,” he says. “Brain break.”

You shrug and nod, reaching for your own shoes as he pulls on a jacket. He tries not to laugh as you struggle to pull them on without untying them. You’re always stubborn like that, it seems. It’s almost painfully endearing. You stand up straight once you have the shoes on and look at him expectantly.

“Where’s your jacket?” He asks.

You shrug and shove your hands into the pockets of your hoodie. Or is it Charles’ hoodie? Oscar swears he’d seen him wearing it just yesterday.

“I didn’t wear one,” you say. Oscar raises his brows, and you roll your eyes. “There’s not even snow on the ground, Piastri.”

“It’s almost December, Bunny” he says flatly, and reaches for another one of his jackets hanging on the hook near the door.

He hands it to you, and stands there, waiting, until you grumble and pull it on. You wear the other guys’ clothing all the time, but he swears you look almost flustered at the offer. Huh. He’s trying desperately to pretend he’s not flustered over it, honestly. Something about you in his clothing makes him blush. He’d felt the same way about the hoodie you’d borrowed at the party.

“You’re just Australian,” you say, nudging your foot against his as if to usher him out the door. “You’re a baby about the cold.”

He doesn’t have much of a comeback to that, so he steps outside, and you follow right along with him. He walks down the steps and takes off down the sidewalk, hands shoved in his jacket pockets. You might be right- he’s a bit of a baby when it comes to cold temperatures- but his breath curls into mist in front of his face and yours does the same, so it really is chilly. The sun paints everything golden- the windows on the buildings, the dead leaves that still cling to a couple trees. Your elbow bumps against his as the two of you walk. He tries to ignore the spark that shoots up his spine at the feeling. You're chatting away about something, someone in one of your classes who’s been annoying you lately. He's found he likes to listen to you talk.

When he turns to take the path through the park next to the athletics building, you stop in your tracks. He turns back, figuring you’ve seen something, but you’re just staring into the park, and at the large building behind it. He frowns.

“Everything alright?” He asks, quietly.

You nod. “I just. D’you think maybe we could walk to that cafe near here? I could really go for a chai latte.”

He nods- a drink does sound good. “Yeah, sure. D’you wanna walk through the park on the way? Won’t be much of a detour.”

The park is nice. It’s one of Oscar’s favorite places on campus. There’s grass and trees and a path that winds around the university’s baseball and soccer fields. But you’re staring at it with a much different feeling, if the look on your face tells him anything.

You shake your head. “No, let’s just…”

You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you take off down the sidewalk, heading away from the park. He’s left to follow in your footsteps, suddenly feeling like he really knows nothing about you at all.

…..

When Oscar thinks of home, now, he thinks of this. Not Australia, or the house, or even his family, really. He thinks of a jersey, a stick in his hand, and the scrape of his skates against the ice. Hockey, for all its cheering fans and yelling opponents and background music, is a strangely quiet sport. Maybe he’s just gotten good at blocking out the noise.

They’re warming up on the ice. He has warm up traditions, now, something he hasn’t had with teammates in years- he and Lando slap each other on the shoulders, and he and George always skate a lap together. It’s not anything huge or elaborate, but it means he’s part of the team, and that’s enough.

Max skates up to him, just at the end of warmup. He nudges his shoulder against Oscar’s through the padding. “Good?”

Oscar had a rough week in practice. It was the kind that would’ve had him benched for a month on his last team. Seb’s been nothing but supportive- constructive criticism was offered, sure, but he’s still on the ice today, so he figures that’s a good sign. He nods and turns to Max. His eyes flicker up into the stands. He shouldn’t know this, but he does- your seat is above Max’s head from this angle, up in the second section, front row. You’re wearing a jersey, probably Lando’s number if he had to guess, and sharing popcorn with Alex’s girlfriend, Lily. He smiles.

“Yeah. Good.” He nods.

Max nods in return, then skates away. Oscar follows.

When he scores later, and ties the game one to one, he looks to the same spot in the stands. Lando hits him on the back, hard, a bit too enthusiastic. You’re standing in front of your seat, arms around Lily, yelling, and he grins. He can’t help it. The smile doesn’t drop from his face for the rest of the game. The rink, the ice, and his teammates may feel like home, but the way you cheer for him feels awfully close to it, too.

At the party afterwards, you pour two shots of tequila and hand one to him. He takes it with a smile, grimaces at the taste, and laughs when you cough. He pats you on the back sympathetically, and when you take his hand two seconds later and drag him towards the beer pong table, he follows happily.

…..

December creeps up on Oscar, and with it, so does final exam week. Suddenly, it’s just… there, bearing down on him. He’s not exactly nervous about most of his exams- he’s prepared well, and though he’d never say it out loud, he’s pretty good at testing. But no matter how well he studies or how much he’s paid attention in class, exams still aren’t exactly fun.

He sees you a lot in the week leading up to it. You’re often in the kitchen, eating snacks with Max, or in the living room, quizzing Charles on vocab, or in Lando’s room taking a nap between classes. You’re stressed. He can tell. He does his best to help in any way he can- when he goes to the store, he picks up your favorite snacks and leaves them on the counter. He helps you study for the physics exam. When he finds you asleep on the couch in his living room on Saturday night, he carefully lays a blanket over you and turns off the lamp. He hopes some of it helps, just a little bit.

The next afternoon, Oscar stands in the lobby of the athletic training building. He and Max had headed over for the afternoon to do a workout together, more to get their minds off exams than anything else. Now he’s in the lobby, waiting for his team captain, and he’s staring. Laser focused. He's making a whole lot of connections all at once. The wheels are turning in his brain, and he’s sure if anyone’s watching him, he looks crazy. He jumps when someone slaps a hand against his shoulder. It’s Max.

“Hey,” his team captain says, shaking him slightly. “You look lost.”

Oscar frowns and turns back to the photo in front of him. Women’s Soccer, a team photo, from what would’ve been his freshman year at his previous school. He’d been looking at the photos while he waited- the lobby is lined with them, and some of them are actually pretty funny. Some of the faces in this one are familiar, people he’s seen in the gym off and on. One, however, had caught his eye.

“Is that who I think it is?” He asks, pointing at the left side of the picture in the third row.

When he turns back to Max, his face has changed. The teasing look is gone, replaced by something solemn and hard set. Max nods and tugs at his shoulder.

“Wait,” Oscar says, trying to stay planted while Max tries to drag him away. “But she-“

Max crosses his arms over his chest and studies Oscar, brows furrowed. “I know. It’s not my story to tell, yeah?”

Oscar nods dumbly. Max nods in response. Then he nods his head towards the door, as if he’s directing Oscar to follow him. He does, because he’s not sure what else to do, and he’s not going to get any more information from the photo. He knows what he saw, anyways. You, standing there with the whole team, in uniform, your name listed below the photo with the rest of your teammates.

If there’s one thing the Timberwolves do better than hockey, it’s soccer. The women’s team has been national champions multiple times. A spot on that team isn’t something someone gives up willingly. But you’re not on the team, not anymore. When Lando asked if you wanted to go to the gym with them, you’d replied that you “wouldn’t be caught dead at the athletic training building.” And you’d avoided the athletic park like the plague.

Max turns to him as they walk out of the building, and the confusion must still be evident on his face, because Max swears under his breath in some other language. Oscar’s too lost in thought to even wonder what language it is, exactly.

“Look, just-“ Max pinches the bridge of his nose. “Trust me, she’ll talk about it when she wants to.”

“Okay,” Oscar nods. “But, like, is she… okay?”

Max gives him a sad smile. “Yeah.”

Oscar hears the silent part in his head. She is now.

They walk home together in near silence. Oscar doesn’t know what to say. He’s sure Max doesn’t, either. When they get to the house, Alex is coming down the front steps, the door still open behind him. Oscar sees your boots in the entryway, your coat hanging on the hook. Alex ruffles his hair as he walks past, and Oscar ducks before he turns to Max.

“Don’t tell her?” He asks, and Max looks sheepish, like that was the exact thing he was about to do. “I mean. If you think she needs to know I saw it, then… sure. But I don’t want her to feel pressured to talk to me about it.”

Max wrinkles his nose and nods. “Okay. For now.”

Oscar nods. They’re in agreement, then. He walks in through the front door and he can hear you and Lando in the kitchen, singing along to whatever song is playing from the speaker. It’s family dinner night. Oscar tries to put the thoughts of you in a soccer team portrait out of his head.

He sits next to you at dinner as you pick at your food. It’s one of your favorite meals, but your appetite seems low. It has him feeling concerned. Max, on your other side, nudges you. Oscar watches the two of you have a quiet conversation and wishes he knew what you were feeling. You finally take a couple bites, and he tries not to show how relieved he is about it.

One by one, everyone wanders off to study and get ready for the week ahead. You stay sitting at the table, though. Oscar clears some plates and comes back to find you, a couple TimTams in hand. You take them with a soft smile.

“You alright?” He asks, quietly.

You nod. “Stressed.”

Oscar nods. “Anything I can do to help?”

You twist your mouth. “Probably not. I should really just go home.”

You don’t make any moves to get up. He sighs and sits down next to you. You drum your fingers on the worn wooden tabletop and set the cookies down next to your plate. You’re chewing on your lower lip, and you close your eyes and let out a breath through your nose.

“It’s like… my brain just won’t stop going,” you say. “Like everything I’ve read is just tumbling around in there and I don’t know how to make it stop.”

“Objects in motion tend to stay in motion,” Oscar says, and you groan.

“Do not use physics metaphors on me right now,” you say, and when he starts laughing, you dissolve into giggles, too. “Gross.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, smiling sheepishly when you turn to look at him. “Why don’t I make some tea, and we can put it in travel mugs, and I’ll walk you home?”

A soft smile slips across your face. “That sounds really nice.”

He makes the tea exactly how both of you like it, pours it into the mugs, and ushers you towards the front door. You stop in the living room to say goodbye to Lando, who ruffles your hair, and Max, who holds onto your arm and says something to you, so quietly that you’re the only one who’ll hear it. Then Oscar heads outside, and you follow. It’s slightly dark, and chilly, but you’ve brought a jacket this time. You wrap both hands around the mug as you walk, a habit of yours that Oscar finds awfully endearing. The streetlights glow bright above your heads.

The walk is mostly silent. He reaches the entrance to the park, and on reflex again, he slows and turns to head down the path. You stop in your tracks and let out a pained little noise. Oscar’s stomach rolls. In the distance, the soccer field is lit up bright with floodlights. Something must’ve happened, to keep you from playing. You’d been good enough to be on the team. Something had changed. He turns and takes a step to continue down the sidewalk, but you stay planted there, staring. He pauses, holding his breath. It’s just the two of you, under the streetlamps, feet on the sidewalk.

“I used to play soccer,” you say, quietly, and his pulse jumps.

She’ll tell you when she’s ready. He hadn’t expected it to be so soon. He bites his lip and shoves his hands in his hoodie pocket. You’re still staring out over the park, so he turns to stare, too. He feels you lean your shoulder against his, like you’re looking for support, and he leans into it, just to show he’s there.

“I got signed to play as a senior in high school,” you explain. “And, not to brag, but I was really good. Went through summer training camp and made friends with my teammates and got here and… then I fell just the right way at practice, or the wrong way, I guess,” you say, grimacing. “Fucked up my knee. I had to have surgery, twice, and even then, they pretty much told me I was done. That it would never heal right.”

Oscar’s heart sinks. His chest feels tight. He thinks of you, on the couch in the living room when he woke up feeling off and asked you to go on a run, how you’d said you’d messed up your knee. He thinks of Max and the concerned way he always watches you climb the stairs in the stands at the rink. He thinks of you, younger, like the picture in the athletics building, on the field, in pain. He feels sick to his stomach.

“And my teammates… they didn’t know how to act, I think. They didn’t know how to help, so they just didn’t try. So, suddenly I was no longer a soccer player, and I was alone, and…” you sigh. Oscar turns to face you, and he thinks there are tears in your eyes. “And then I met Lando, and the rest of the team, and the rest is history. But… there are some things that still get to me. The field… it holds a lot of bad memories, you know? And when I’m stressed like this it all comes flooding back.”

He nods. You’re not looking at him, even as he watches a tear roll down your cheek. He wants to reach out and wipe it away, but he wonders if that would be a step too far. He pulls his hands from his pockets. You swipe a hand against your cheeks and clear the tears, and then let your own hands hang at your sides. He takes a steadying breath, steels himself, and links his fingers with yours- casually, lightly, gently holding on. You squeeze his hand in reply- a thank you, he thinks. He does the same in return.

“Did Max tell you why I left my old school?” He asks, quietly.

“No,” you answer, voice low and tentative. “Max doesn’t tell people stuff like that.”

He shrugs, though he supposes that makes sense- he’d refused to tell Oscar what had happened to you. Max seems loyal like that. Oscar rolls a pebble beneath his shoe and listens to your breathing to remind himself you’re still there. He wants you to know this. Wants to share. Wants you to know he understands, at least a little bit.

“I got scouted by them my senior year,” he starts, closing his eyes. Like this, he’s almost right back in it. “And I was really excited. And then I got there and… the guys on the team were awful. I didn’t get any playing time, and they’d all been friends since they were kids, and I felt like such an outsider.” He kicks the pebble down the path lightly. “By the time my sophomore year rolled around, I hated it. I hated hockey. I’d spent my whole life doing nothing but that but I dreaded every practice. I was…”

He huffs. Squeezes his eyes shut tighter. He can feel the hits from his own teammates at practice. Can feel that same empty, lonely feeling sitting at the end of the bench. He can taste the blood in his mouth when he tried to stand up for himself and the team captain shoved him and the coach did nothing.

“It was fucked,” he says. He hates the way his voice wobbles. “So I quit. I walked out. I was done with hockey. I couldn’t even go near the rink for months.”

“But you’re here now,” you say, quietly.

He nods sharply. “I had this old coach- his name’s Mark. Showed up on his doorstep and told him the whole thing. He and Seb used to be teammates. So he got me a tryout. I refused, at first. And then Seb sent Max to come talk to me.”

He remembers that, clear as day, too. Max, bright and smiling, at his dorm room door. He knew who Max was, he had looked up to him for years. Max had walked in, planted himself on the floor in the room, and hadn’t left until Oscar changed his mind.

“I spent the summer training back home. Found my love for it again,” he explains. “But it wasn’t easy. I think I’m still working on it, sometimes.”

You hum next to him. You squeeze his hand again. His breath hitches. Your skin is warm against his. It makes his chest ache. He hadn’t known who he was without his sport. He thinks maybe you know that feeling better than anyone else.

“I’m sorry you got hurt,” he says into the night air. “And I know you must’ve heard it a billion times, and that I don’t really understand what it’s like to have it taken away like that. But…”

“But you get it,” you say, voice rough around the edges. “The lonely feeling.”

He nods and swallows against the lump in his throat. “And thank you. For making things less lonely here.”

“I’m sorry if I was too much,” you answer.

He just shakes his head. “I’m sorry I was so… stuck.”

You’re quiet for a few moments, before you squeeze his hand again. “Come on, let’s go on a walk.”

You knit your fingers with his, properly, and Oscar expects you to start down the sidewalk again. You don’t. Instead, your feet carry you down the path through the park. He understands now, that this place must hold awful memories. Reminders of what was supposed to be, what was taken away. You’re trusting him with this. It sits heavy on his shoulders.

He doesn’t push, doesn’t ask more questions. When you walk past the soccer field, he turns to sneak a glance at your face. There’s sadness in your eyes, but a smile on your lips. There’s a strength, there, too, that he finds starkly beautiful. You hold onto him tightly, and together, you make it through the park, all the way to your apartment.

He leaves you at the door with a quiet goodnight and a promise to see each other the next day for the regular study session. The exam is on Tuesday, so it’ll be his last excuse to spend time with you like that. He walks home in silence, through the park, and tries not to stare at the soccer goal. That night, he dreams of soccer fields and hockey rinks and you.

…..

When Oscar gets home just before your normal study time the next day, there’s music pouring out of the front door before he even opens it. It’s louder once he does. The house seems mostly empty, but someone is either having a very good or very bad day. He wavers in the doorway, wondering if he should call you. He’s still there when you walk in behind him, bumping into his shoulder. He turns to look at you, eyes wide. Yours are even wider.

“I don’t think we can study here,” he says, frowning.

You shake your head. “We can go to my place.”

So he packs up his things into his backpack, avoiding whatever is going on in Charles’ room that has him causing permanent damage to his eardrums. Then the two of you take off down the street, towards your apartment. He slows only slightly at the turn for the park, waiting to see what you’ll do. You turn down the path through the park and loop your arm in his. He looks away in the hopes that you don’t see the smile that creeps across his face.

Your apartment is, honestly, exactly how he’d always pictured it. It’s soft and cozy and colorful. There’s a well loved, overstuffed couch in the living room, a little table in the kitchen, and so much stuff on the walls. Music posters, photos blown up big, and… collages. Some in frames, some tacked up with tape, scattered across the place. Perfect mixtures of magazine cutouts and pieces of paper and he swears he even spots a dried flower on one.

“Wow,” he says, studying the one that hangs over the couch. “These are so cool.”

You’re in the kitchen, grabbing a snack, and you turn over your shoulder. “Oh. Thanks. I made a lot of them when I was injured. I had nothing better to do, yknow?”

He sees a chunk of an x-ray in the corner of the piece, and his heart twists. You walk up next to him, shoulder to shoulder. When he looks at you, you’re smiling softly. He likes that look on your face. He wants to keep it there, and suddenly he dreads studying physics because he knows how stressed you’re going to be.

“We’ll have to make some sometime,” you say, nudging your elbow against his. “There’s a billion hockey magazines in a closet at your house.”

“I don’t have an artistic bone in my body,” he says.

You laugh. “That’s the fun of collages. You don’t have to.”

He settles in on one end of the couch, and you settle into the other. The soft light of the lamp in the living room makes it feel warm, the same way your hand in his had felt the day before. He tries so, so hard to focus on physics. It’s just… he’s in your apartment, and you’re there, knees curled to your chest, brow furrowed in concentration, and… something about this feels so soft.

He clears his throat, opens his textbook, and flips to the review questions. “Alright. Ready?”

The two of you study for hours. Oscar doesn’t know when it happens, but at some point you move closer, so you can look off the same textbook. Physics terms and formulas and theories rattle around in his brain, all wrapped up with thoughts of you. The sun goes down, and the windows to the outside grow dark. He doesn’t want to leave. He wants to stay right here.

“My brain is full,” you mumble, between a yawn.

You drop your head against his shoulder, and his heart pounds in his chest. He shouldn’t be feeling like this, he knows it. You’re just tired, that’s all.

He nods in agreement. “Mine too. I can go home. We should get a good night’s sleep.”

You nod against his shoulder and then make no move to pull away. “In a minute,” you say. “Your arm is comfy.”

Butterflies- actual, real life butterflies, he swears it- swirl in his stomach. It doesn’t mean anything. He’s seen you fall asleep on Charles’ shoulder during movie nights, watched you curl up on Max’s bed and take a nap while everyone around you talked. He’s just another friend, another shoulder to lean on. This doesn’t mean anything, and besides, it shouldn’t mean anything, so why is his stomach swirling with butterflies, and why does his face feel hot?

When you finally pull away and help him pack up his things, he hopes you can’t tell how he’s feeling. You walk him to the door and wait for him to put on his shoes and jacket. It’s just so you can lock it behind him, he knows. But then you reach up and smooth the hair from his forehead and laugh, and his chest aches fiercely, and god, he could kiss you- not even really kiss you, just on the forehead or the cheek would do. He says goodnight instead and steps out into the hallway, then makes his feet carry him down the stairs and out to the sidewalk.

He walks past the soccer field and finds himself hoping that maybe you felt it too.

He gets up early the next morning and finds Max in the kitchen with coffee ready to go. He grabs two travel mugs- his, and yours. Max raises an eyebrow as he spreads cream cheese on a bagel. Oscar does the same in response.

“You were out late last night,” Max says, eyeing him.

He doesn’t bother asking how Max knows when he got back. He feels like it’s written plainly all over his face. He can feel the weight of you against his shoulder. Can feel your hand brushing his hair from his face. Can feel how much he wants to lean in. Max must see it.

“I was studying,” he says, carefully.

“With Bunny,” Max suggests, and Oscar nods. “But not here.”

“No, we got here and Charles was blasting music,” Oscar explains. “So we went to her place.”

“He failed an exam,” Max says, face scrunched up. “Well. He assumes he did. You know Charles.”

Oscar nods. Max is staring at him as he pours hot coffee into mugs. He’s not sure what the team captain is looking for, but he hopes he doesn’t find it.

“She told you,” he says, quietly, and Oscar looks up from the mugs, nearly spilling coffee all over.

He clears his throat. “Yeah.”

Max nods and finally turns back to his bagel. “Good.”

That’s that, then. He puts the lids on the coffee, and Max sends him out the door with two bagels- one for him, one for you. He almost feels like he’s passed some sort of test when Max gives him a sharp nod as he turns to leave, but he’s not sure which test it would even be.

He finds you in the lobby before the exam, hands off the coffee and the bagel and tells you he knows you’re going to do well. You smile brightly at him, and he swears it lights up the whole building.

“We’ve got this,” you say, nudging him with your elbow. “And if we don’t, we’ll retake it together.”

He nods in agreement. The two of you sit on a bench and eat your bagels and drink your coffee. Oscar wishes he could attribute the warmth in his belly to the drink, but he’s pretty sure it has more to do with the way you smile up at him and the weight of your shoulder against his. Either way, it sends him into the exam with a good feeling, and that’s really all he can ask for.

…..

Oscar finds himself feeling sad when the holiday break rolls around this year. It’s a weird feeling. For years, he’s looked forward to December for this reason. The exams are over, he gets time off from school, a chance to go home or have his family visit, and a break from everything. He realizes, as he’s staring up at the ceiling, listening to Lando lugging a suitcase around, that he’s going to miss his friends when they leave for the break. It’s been two years since the last time he called his teammates friends.

He drags himself out of bed and into the hallway, because if Lando’s leaving, he wants to say goodbye. And sure enough, there he is, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants and taking an enormous suitcase down the stairs one step at a time. Oscar spots you on the ground floor, watching in amusement, and he waves at you.

“Morning, Oscar,” you call out. “Ready for the break?”

He scrubs a hand through his hair and shrugs. “Yeah.”

You raise your brows. “That was convincing,” you say, sarcasm dripping from your lips.

He bites back a laugh, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of having called him out. “It’ll be nice to see my family. Just weird to have everyone gone, yknow?”

Lando, who’s made it down three stairs, turns to look at him. “Aw, he’s gonna miss us!” He coos, and Oscar feels his face go red.

Before he can jump to his own defense or try to come up with something to tease Lando about, you speak up from the bottom of the steps.

“Yeah, and we’re gonna miss him, Lando,” you say, shaking your head. “Jesus. Oscar, would you just shove him and the giant suitcase down the steps?”

Oscar’s trying not to dwell on you saying you’ll miss him, too. It shouldn’t affect him nearly as much as it does right now. It makes his stomach twist. He keeps the smile plastered on his face and forces a laugh, and Lando glares at him as menacingly as Lando can glare at anyone. He brushes off the feeling and grabs the side handle of Lando’s suitcase, then helps him lug it down the stairs. Lando shoots him a smile to replace the glare as they get it to the bottom floor. Then he pats him on the shoulder and ruffles his hair. Oscar winces.

“Bye, Piastri,” he says, grinning. “Have a good break.”

He pulls the giant suitcase towards the front door. You stay standing there, even as Lando steps outside and sighs at the sight of the front steps. Oscar steps off the staircase and lands near you, arms swinging at his sides.

“You’re staying here all break, right?” You ask.

He nods. “My family will be here Monday, though.”

“Nice,” you say, smiling wide. “Well. I bought more TimTams and Vegemite, so they should feel right at home.���

Warmth bubbles up in Oscar’s chest. “Thanks.”

You nod. The two of you stand there for a few seconds, and he wonders if you’re holding your breath, too. You shift back and forth on your feet, and then before he knows it, you’re against his chest, arms around him. He barely has time to hug you back before you pull away, and that’s the only bad part about it. He would hold you forever, if he could, he thinks. And honestly, that’s terrifying.

You pull away, and he hopes you don’t notice how red his cheeks are. “Bye, Oscar,” you say, almost shyly.

“Bye, Bunny,” he says back.

Lando calls your name from the front door, and you scurry off. He sighs. He swears he can still smell your shampoo, and then hates himself for knowing what your shampoo even smells like. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt and turns back towards the stairs, ready to head back to his room, crawl back into bed, and go back to sleep. He jumps in shock when he finds Alex and George standing at the top of the stairs, leaning on the railing.

“That was interesting, wasn’t it, Alex,” George says.

“Quite interesting, I’d say,” Alex nods, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

Oscar rolls his eyes and takes the stairs two at a time. “You guys are creepy.”

They both just laugh as Oscar pushes past them and into his room. He shuts the door behind him, flops down onto the bed face first, and closes his eyes. Outside, he hears Logan’s car start up- the guy really needs to get the thing fixed, it’s loud as hell, but at least it still runs. He closes his eyes and reminds himself that it’ll only be a few weeks until you’re back in town. Then he wonders when having you around became so important to him. He rolls over, buries his face in the pillow, and goes to sleep.

notes: a lil osc pov!! thank you for reading! check out the winter break blurb, or find part 4 here!

tags: to be added or removed just let me know!! crossed out names were unable to be tagged- if it’s yours, shoot me a message!

main taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @arian-directioner @racingheartsposts @sakuramxchii @mynamejeff5

series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @ggaslyp1 @verstoppenheimer @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @sakuramxchii @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @coolmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main @ellen3101 @k-pevensie28 @ninifee1802 @avg-golden-retriever @pleasecallmeunhinged @andruuu28 @aceofswordsandarrows @dreamsarebig @secretunnels @ginsengi @yayahnaise @f1petra @lovecarsgoingvroom

[blackfangedreaper]

WARMTH & TRUST

One piece highschool au but there's a twist your the president of the dance club with ace as vice president. You take pride in your club meaning you never miss a day, even if your experiencing your monthly flow cramps. -_-

Older characters are aged down in this.

Pairings: Luffy x fem!reader

Warnings:cursing and tooth rotting fluff💞 (so brush your teeth after this.)

(づ￣ ³￣)づ

'Stay at home they said, we'll do perfectly fine they said!' You thought currently watching as your club members kept fucking up the whole dance routine, the same people who said they'd do perfectly fine whilst your at home resting.

"Well you guys look like your handling the situation perfectly." You said startling them.

"Oh uh hi pres." Violet said nervously turning to reveal you with a pained expression.

"Don't 'hi pres' me and where the hell is ace?" You asked rubbing your temples.

"Right behind ya pres." Ace chirped.

You turned around clutching your hot water bag in one hand and dragging his ear with the other.

"Where were you?!" You growled pulling with more force making him wince.

"Ow ow ow, im sorry shit- y/n please that hurts!" He hissed as he tried to escape your grasp. You sighed releasing his ear.

He noticed your pained expression and slouched state, he face bore a look of confusion before he saw your hot water bag. His lips bore a frown "hey shouldn't you be at home resting?! we said we'd take care of everything!"

"Yeah e-everything looks taken care of." You stuttered feeling a sharp pain in your abdominal region.

"H-Hey come sit, you shouldn't be standing." Ace lead you to the resting area of the dance studio which was filled with mats.

He sat down leading you to sit between his legs as he took your hot water bag from you bringing its heated surface to your lower abdomen, you sighed in relief, thanking him.

"Sleep a little we'll take care of everything i promise" he said reassuring you, you nodded sluggishly, slowly drifting off to sleep.

It had been fifteen minutes since you've been asleep and the club seems to be doing exceptionally well due to ace's coordination.

"ACE!" Luffy barged in shouting as he walked in tow with sabo, his signature strawhat hanging around his neck.

"SHHHHHH!" The club members simultaneously said hushing the energetic teen. Your a heavy sleeper, yes! But they rather not take chances in waking you up, especially at your monthlys. You just get really angry, and no one wants an angry y/n.

"Oh! sorry Shishishi!" He said chuckling.

"Uh is she ok?" Sabo asked walking towards you with luffy walking right behind him peering at you curiously.

"Yeah she's fine just a uh um fever! Yeah a fever!" Ace said not wanting sabo to scold him for letting you come for practice especially during your monthly flow. Sabo rose an eyebrow looking unconvinced.

"Yeah sure, and a hot water bag should make her feel so much better right?" Sabo retorted while rolling his eyes. "She's on her monthlys isn't she."

"...yeah." Ace admitted carefully stroking your head while holding the heated bag in place and waiting for a scolding which surprisingly didn't come.

"Huh?! Monthlys?! What's that?" Luffy asked tilting his head in curiosity.

Sabo walked away hastily not wanting to be the one to explain, ace gapes at him in betrayal before glancing at luffy.

"Uh it's a girl thing! You wouldn't understand." Ace answered praying luffy won't pester him any longer.

He would rather not explain what a menstrual cycle is to his little brother, its embarassing enough to know but to explain to luffy would take details, details he would rather not think of again!

"Oh ok." Luffy said directing his attention elsewhere, causing ace to sigh in relief.

Now he has to focus on getting some work done but with y/n in this state he doesn't think he's gonna get anything done...unless, he looked at luffy who seemed to be staring straight at y/n. A light bulb blinked on ace's head.

"Hey, luffy!" He called breaking luffy at of his daze like state.

"Yeah?" Luffy answered turning to ace.

"Wanna take my place, i have some work to finish before y/n wakes up, think you can take care of her while im busy? Can i trust you buddy?" Ace asked hiding his smirk.

He knows luffy won't pass up the chance to spend time with you, it's funny cause you both have the biggest crush on each other and everyone but you two know.

"Shishishi, of course!" Luffy beamed walking over to switch places with ace.

Ace stands up while supporting your back so luffy could slip in, you squirmed a little making a noise of discomfort but still not attempting to wake up.

They switch place successfully and ace holds out your hot water bag giving it to luffy and showing him where it should be placed.

"There you go buddy, im counting on you." Ace said ruffling his younger brother's ebony locks.

"Hm, i'll take care of her!" Luffy reassures as ace walks away. He adjusts you, pulling your body close to his, you sigh in your sleep loving the heat that radiates off his body.

"Ah, she's warm." Luffy whispers putting his head on your shoulder while circling one arm around you and the other arm holding the hot water bag to your lower abdomen.

He starts to drift off, the heat radiating off you body luring him to sleep and soon enough he's out like a light.

The sun is starting to set, deciding its time to rest just as the bell rings to indicate club time has come to an end.

"Good job, everyone lets meet tomorrow, same time." Ace says watching as club members leave while waving goodbyes.

He smiles waving at the last person before turning to check on you, he got a call from your (guardian) telling him it was ok for you to stay over at his house since they would be working late.

He stumbles upon you wrapped in luffy's arms with a tranquil and calm expression, and luffy whose face seemed to be buried in your neck breathing steadily.

"Hey, hey luffy c'mon buddy wake up." Ace says patting luffy's head.

"Hm, im hungry, something smells good." Luffy sleepily mumbled pushing his head deeper into your neck, inhaling your scent.

"Hey luffy!" Ace whispered trying to get his younger brother wake up by shaking him but unfortunately your woken up by this disturbance.

"Hmm? Ace what's going on?" You asked rubbing your eyes with your hands to get the sleep out.

"...i-i uh how was your sleep? Feeling better now?!" Ace asked a smirk growing on his face as he sees luffy beginning to wake up too.

"Yeah thanks i feel alot better!" You say looking up to see ace...looking up to see ACE?!! If ace was infront of you, who was leaning and breathing steadily on you?!

You turn your head slowly only to see big doe brown hues staring back at you, you feel your heart skip a beat and heat rise to you face.

"L-L-LUFFY!" You exclaimed stuttering, you look down seeing his arms around you causing you to feel lightheaded.

"Shishishi you seem alot better now Y/N!" He beams at you glad that you now seemed much better.

"i-i, yeah." You nod feeling flustered, you couldn't bring yourself to say anything more as he stood up, helping you up too.

You thank him, trying to walk on your own, only to stumble as your legs fall asleep. "Woah careful."

Luffy supports you, holding you in his arms to avoid your fall, Helping you to walk until you could walk yourself. "Oh, yeah y/n your (guardian) called they said you could spend the night.

Ace said picking up your hot water bag and jogging to catch up with you and luffy who seemed to have made it outside the club room.

"OH!! y/n is sleeping over?! awesome!!!" Luffy exclaimed his eyes forming stars and lips harboring a toothy smile. You swear your heart skipped a beat at his adorable expression.

Was he really excited that you were coming over? Should you come over more often? Does...Does he enjoy your company so much that he makes such joyous expression?! Maybe he does. Uh oh you feel your face heating up again.

"Hey! Ace what about sabo?" You asked snapping out of your daydream.

"He's by the car." Ace said walking beside you two.

Luffy starts to talk about what he plans to do with you since your staying over."then we can build a pillow fort filled it up with our favourite food and watch a movie together!"

"Hey what of me?" Ace asked feeling left out.

"Huh? You can't come it's me and y/n time! Just the two of us which means your not included." Luffy said scowling at his raven haired brother.

"HUH?!! you little brat!" Ace said pulling on luffy's cheeks, laughing as luffy's expression contorted showing pain and annoyance.

"Wet me gwo!(Let me go)" luffy said struggling against his brother's hold.

You giggle at their antics as you all make it outside the school and into the parking lot. You wave at sabo who does the sane.

"Hey y/n, you look alot better now." Sabo said smiling at your recovery.

"Yeah-"

"Y/N help me!!!" Luffy screamed as he ran towards you only to hide behind you. You then see what he's running from...Ace, an angry ace at that.

"LUFFY!!!! OOOH WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!!!" he shouts storming towards you and luffy he stops abruptly when he sees luffy hiding behind a confused you, he huffed mumbling 'ill get you next time.'

You don't question his abrupt stop and get in the car, you sit at the back luffy joining you while ace sits at the drivers seat with sabo in the fromt beside him.

Ace raps to the music blasting from the speakers while luffy bops his head to the tunes. You and sabo engage in a conversation, ending it when he received a call, hmm...probably from koala.

Your mind drifts off thinking about what luffy planned for both of you for tonight's sleepover...oh your so nervous, you hope you don't mess things up.

Your brought out of your worried mind when you feel warmth engulf your hand, you turn seeing a hand holding onto yours.

"...Luffy." You turn to him, feeling your heart pounding and heat rushing to your face, as you see a tint of pink on his cheeks.

"Shishishi, you don't have to worry about anything y/n, i'll handle everything, trust me!." He said giving you his biggest smile whilst dropping his strawhat on your head indirectly letting you know that you too are indeed special to him.

You smile back intertwining your fingers together as you arrived at his house, you guess your gonna have to trust him.

（*＾3＾）/～♡

Happy birthday luffy!!!🥳🎊😍💞

I seriously didn't know were this was going to go but it turned out well i guess!

I loved writing this and i hope y'all had more fun reading it too!❤💞

[clarrissanewt]

Broken Strings

Part 2!

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

Warnings: fictional violence, soulmates!au, angst

Summary:

A/n: okay, okay so I wrote this piece while sitting in my geography class. Let's hope it's not bad😭

In all years of life any lucky person can hope for, it always counts for not having Kaz Brekker's name on either of their wrist.

You, however, were temporarily in a state of dilemma as both of your wrists had Kaz Brekker's name.

Now, listen. Having Brekker as an enemy is lethal. Having him as a soulmate  is even more life-threatening. 

You looked up to the dingy ceiling of your room, which lawfully or not, belonged to Black Tips, prudently calculating ways to welcome death.

The last time you saw Kaz Brekker, his pale face still held the same essence of a puzzle. And you hated it. There was no way someone could hope for victory from Kaz Brekker.

There was a scruff knock out side your door and you hastened to cover your wrists with the sleeves of your black cloak.

The night Kaz came to rescue you, to welcome you into Crow Club, the prospect seemed promising.

But you owed Geels a lot. It had been two years of your espionage in and around ketterdam and every passing moment seemed to carve an even deeper wound in your chest. If there was some way, you could have been on the other side.

You sighed at Geels, who motioned you to the corridor, perhaps for another scrimmage (or a war) with the Crow Club.

Being the one next to Geels of course gave you allowances. You might be the only one who didn't have two fingers seared off. And Geels' trust kept things same. He never seemed suspicious enough to get your hands checked.

The sight of two fine built guards belonging to Slat perfectly reminded you that things were going to end up bloody tonight.

You gritted through your teeth the moment your back hit the ground. Kaz Brekker was looming over you, like a falcon hurling over its prey. Inej and Jesper had been shooed away with a 'this is nothing I can't manage', you felt humiliated as much as you feared what was coming.

"Y/n L/n," his voice was so raspy, eyes so pointed as his cane came down yo your throat.

You were somewhat relieved that there was no pressure, you could swat the cane away with a flick of your palm and maybe, just a little hope that you, in fact, could kick Kaz Brekker and earn an upper hand.

But the odds were, Kaz Brekker was always prepared. As if he could see the future; his mind seemed to have a great sway on the workings of everyday.

And you didn't know how.

Kaz Brekker kneeled next to you, his bad leg resting little at the back as his pallid face hovered over you.

Blaming Kaz Brekker to be horrific was like blaming the world that it sucked.

"Still showing your loyalty to that wrinkled bastard?"

You winced at the calm, taunting tone.

"I owe him, Kaz Brekker. I owe him till my last breath. "

You could see the crow headed tip of his cane as he tutted at you, smoothing the rim of his hat.

The last jab of cane as he walked away instilled your worse fears.

No matter who you are to Kaz Brekker,  once you decide to stand on the opposite side of him, there was no haggling.  You were nothing more than another enemy for him now.

[b1acksw4n]

Pairings: Jungkook x FemReader (1980’s au)

Summary: It’s March 24, 1984 and after skipping class to shop with some friends, you find yourself at a Saturday detention. Jeon Jungkook is known for being an asshole and starting fights with other students just for the thrill of it and you can’t believe you have to spend the day with him. You soon realize that maybe the disparate group of teenagers you are spending detention with aren’t as different from you as you thought. (This is based off of the movie The Breakfast Club, if you haven’t watched it you should !!)

Word count:

"I can't believe you can't get me out of this. It's so absurd that I have to be here on a Saturday." You groaned, glancing outside the passenger window. In the distance you could see students also reluctantly getting out of their parents cars and entering the school building. Much to your annoyance, your dad let out a hearty laugh at your words.

You followed the small group of teenagers into the library and you sighed loudly as you took your seat. Before you could properly take in your surroundings, Mr. Kim, your principal, entered the room. "It is now 7:06. You have exactly seven hours and fifty four minutes to think about why you're here. Ponder the error of your ways." A brown haired boy with thickly framed glasses raised his hand in attempt to protest but Mr.Kim didn't give him a chance to finish. "You may not talk. Do not move out of these seats." A loud smacking sound hit a desk and everyone slowly turned in their seats to the direction of the culprit. A guy's face had hit the desk as he pretended to snore obnoxiously. You rolled your eyes at his actions and turned back around, your gaze fixated on Mr.Kim. Then it hit you. Why was that guy so familiar? Sure, you were popular but were you that stuck up that you didn't even recognize your own classmates? Jeon Jungkook.. was here? How had you not noticed him before? A devilish grin graced Mr.Kim's face as he continued, "You are all going to write me a one thousand word essay, telling me who you think you are." Jungkook carelessly kicked his feet up onto the desk. His lips were slightly parted as if he was going to say something witty or clever. You tried your best to ignore the delinquent but it was getting harder every second."My office is right across that hall. Any monkey business will not be tolerated." Mr.Kim emphasized his words as he stormed out of the library and right into his office.

The dark haired boy crumbled up a piece of paper and threw it over your head and into the trash can. He stridently began humming a tune to himself .

"Oh shit! What are we supposed to do when we have to take a piss? Well I mean if you gotta go.. you gotta go, right?" Before anyone could respond to his comments, everyone in the room could hear the sound of jeans being unzipped. "Oh my god." You muttered to yourself, tightly closing your eyes. "Hey! You're not pissing in here man." Taehyung's voice was barely above a growl as he adjusted his letterman's jacket. "Don't talk, it makes it crawl back up!" Jungkook hollered as he abruptly pushed his seat back so he wasn't so close to the desk anymore.

"You're dead when the first drop hits the floor." Taehyung warned, snapping his head in the delinquents direction.

"You're so sexy when you're angry."

Taehyung slammed his fist on the desk in annoyance. You covered your mouth with your hand trying your hardest to stifle the laughs escaping you. Jungkook snapped his head in Jimin's direction. "Hey, you over there. Why don't you close that door and we can get the prom queen impregnated." Jungkook smirked, the smug expression never leaving his face. Your face grew hot and with furrowed brows, you glared at the teenager. "In your dreams asshole. Who do you think you are anyway?" He winced at your words, pretending to be offended. "I'll beat your ass right now, don't talk to her like that." The jock ran a hand through his hair, his voice getting louder by the minute. Jimin, the smaller framed boy in glasses who hadn't spoken the entire time intervened, "Come on guys let's just finish our papers." A girl dressed in all black quietly bit her nails observing and watching intently. It was seven in the morning and here you were dealing with the guy with the worst reputation at school. "Just ignore him! He's trying to get a rise out of you, Taehyung." You finally mustered up the courage to speak but you could feel your voice betraying you. Jungkook shifted his attention towards you. His chin rested against his palm, his chocolate doe eyes boring into yours. You felt a huge wave of shyness crash over you realizing he was giving you his full undivided attention. You locked eyes with him and it felt like an eternity. He refused to break eye contact as he leaned in closer to your direction. "Sweets, you couldn't ignore me if you tried." Jungkook jumped out of his seat and hopped onto one of the railings in the library. Mr.Kim left his office, leaving the door wide open. Jungkook peered his head around the corner and jumped off the railing. He sprinted towards the office. "Where are you going," Jimin questioned. Jungkook deepened his voice, pointing a finger at Taehyung before running off. "Young man, have you finished your paper?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With calloused hands, Jungkook lit his cigarette, taking a long drag. He opened the door, exiting the library as the group of teenagers followed close behind him."What's the point of going to Jeon's locker, anyway?" Lisa mumbled mostly to herself. They were most likely going to get caught if they weren't careful. Taehyung sighed exasperatedly. He had a track meet next week, did he really need to risk that? Suddenly their thoughts were interrupted. The sound of dress-shoes hitting the marble floor suffused the empty hallways. It was a pretty hot day considering that spring was budding and the stuffy feeling of summer creeping it's way closer filled the atmosphere. That feeling made you further resent being here.. trapped in this building.

"Shit, he's gonna find us." Jimin whisper yelled. He was putting way too much trust in the boy clad in denim. The thought itself made the boy grimace. Jungkook strolled cockily down the halls, taking a few turns in the opposite direction of the deafening footsteps. "You're going the wrong way. You seriously want me to miss my meet that bad?" Taehyung's eyes narrowed at the taller boy, pointing in the opposite direction. "I'm going that way."

"Whatever jockstrap." Jungkook grumbled as he saw you, Lisa and Jimin follow the athlete. You slowly  trudged, glancing back at him with a small hint of concern displayed on your face. The look you threw his way had tugged at his heartstrings. It made something inside him grow tender. No one looked at him like that before. He stumbled towards you a bit as if you were beckoning him into your arms. You hastily clutched his hand in yours, tugging him a bit in your direction. Everyone suddenly came to a halt as they saw there was a gate blocking off the other half of the school. "That's what we get for listening to Jockstrap." Lisa mused, brushing her bangs out of her face. "Now we're all dead.." Jimin sighed, awkwardly stared down at the floor tiles as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

"No. Just me." Jungkook gave his signature mischievous grin, before turning on his heel and dashing away like there was no time to spare. Jungkook took a deep breath and started singing loudly and out of tune. "I wanna be an airborne ranger!" He was practically screaming at the top of his lungs at this point. You and Lisa looked at each other, shaking your heads in unison. After you made it back to the library, you couldn't help but want to know more about everyone here.

The only person you really knew before today was Taehyung. You both hung out with the popular and well-liked crowd. In all honestly, the more you thought about it the more you began to dislike your friends at school. Everyone here in detention today was from a different group and you all had managed to get along and banter for the most part. On Monday, you hoped that your 'friends' wouldn't say anything to you for hanging out with Lisa or maybe even Jungkook. It just seemed like a different world to them.. a world you wished to be apart of. Your rumination was quickly interrupted as an intense collision filled the media center.

Crushed ceiling tiles fell down and Jungkook coughed and wheezed as he wobbly stood up from the carpeted flooring. Dust particles of debris fluttered in his dark, unruly hair and he desperately tried to clean himself off. "What? I forgot my pencil." He stated, seeming pretty dumbfounded by everyone's confused expressions. Lisa's eyes were blown wide and she stared at the debris still falling from the ceiling. "What was that noise?" Mr.Kim shrieked, falling out of his swivel chair at his desk in surprise. Jungkook felt himself panic as he ran to your desk and crawled under it, his breath hitting your legs. The desks were only open so that students could push their desks in, so it would be very hard for Mr.Kim to know where he was. He wasn't supposed to even be in here right now and he figured this was the best hiding spot he was gonna get. Your eyes widened as you looked down at him, squeezing your thighs together in embarrassment. Why did you decide to wear a skirt this morning? You opened your mouth, ready to insult him and tell him to go hide somewhere else. However, Mr.Kim charged into the room, with a gaze that could kill. "I just heard a ruckus in here. What the hell was that noise? Anyone care to confess?"

"What noise?" Taehyung responded smoothly. "Could you describe the ruckus, Sir?" Jimin chimed in. "Watch your mouth, young man. I know something just happened." Jungkook moved his head slightly and hit it against the top of the desk. Lisa coughed into her hand after kicking the leg of the desk. You joined in and before you knew it all five of you were coughing and hitting the desks. "Was that the ruckus?" Lisa spoke softly, her voice barely above a whisper as everyone began to quiet down.

Jungkook moved around trying to find a comfortable position while also attempting to remain quiet so he wouldn't get ratted out. Your legs were parted now and since you were wearing a skirt, your panties were on full display for him to see. His doe eyes widened and he slowly moved his head closer in between your legs, taking in your sweet intoxicating scent. You blushed profusely, your face was as red as Taehyung's letterman jacket. Your body temperature rose and you resisted the urge to acknowledge how intimate the position you and Jungkook were in really was. The dark haired boy could feel the drool ready to escape his mouth but his moment was cut short when you squeezed your legs together, causing his head to be squished between your thighs. He let out a low, barely audible grunt and you tried with every fiber in your body to stay calm and keep your composure. "I may not have caught you this time. But you can bet I will." The principal crossed his arms and spoke with authority so the students knew he meant business. You weren't even apprehensive about getting in trouble. Everything the teacher said, went in one ear and out the other. You were too focused on Jeon Jungkook to give a shit about anything else. Mr.Kim approached his office once more and closed the door.

Jungkook crawled out from under your desk and you glared at him and spun around in the opposite direction. "It was an accident."

"Shut up, Jeon."

"Sue me."

~~~~

"I was just wondering.. what's gonna happen to us on Monday? I mean I consider you guys my friends. So on Monday.. what happens?" Jimin shyly rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact with everyone. "Do you want the truth?" You anxiously played with the jewelry adorning your neck as you bit your chapped lips. Jimin nodded, not knowing what to say next. "I don't think so." You muttered, looking away from the group. You felt guilt claw it's way into your subconscious and you desperately wanted the lump in your throat to just disappear already. "That's a real nice attitude, Y/N." Taehyung's words were laced with venom and you despised the way they stuck to you like an adhesive. "I know you'd do the same to Jimin! Don't even lie." You stared intensely at your shoes and swallowed down the urge to sob. "You are a bitch!" Jungkook hollered, his eyes hooded with rage. "Do you know how shitty that is to do to someone? You don't have the guts to stand up to your friends and tell them that you're gonna like who you wanna like."

"Are you serious, Jeon? Don't act like you're any different. What would happen if you went out to the parking lot to smoke with Jimin? What would your friends say if they saw us walking down the hall together? They'd laugh their asses off and you'd tell them that you were sleeping with me so they'd forgive you for ever being seen with me!" Your eyes were full of unshed tears. He quickly grew quiet and you could tell that his head was whirring with thoughts. He ran a frustrated hand through his messy black hair and sighed. Lisa awkwardly took sips from her half empty juice box, glancing at Taehyung who shared the same look.

Jimin sniffled and regained his composure as he took a deep breath. "I'd never do that to you guys. Because I think that's messed up. It seems like Lisa and I are the only good people here."

After a long moment of silence, Taehyung spoke up. "I don't think you guys realize the kind of pressure our friends put on us. It's hard having to go along with what they say.." The track star weakly tried to defend himself. He knew this type of behavior was shitty. Taehyung's dad put so much pressure on him to be the best athlete he could be that he started to forget what his own dream was. Taehyung's dad encouraged him to be a bully at school and that was partially the reason the senior was in detention on a Saturday.

Jungkook swiftly slid his jean jacket back on, anxiously glancing at the clock on the wall. Your eyes locked again, this time though it was completely unintentional. Detention was almost over and you felt your attitude about this entire day do a whole 180. You were yearning to know more about Jungkook even it seemed like he wouldn’t let you in. Without warning, he scooted his desk closer to you and you felt a small subtle smile tug at the corners of your mouth. “So about what I said earlier..” He trailed off, not knowing where he was going with this thought. He never really was good with words. Well with the words everyone wanted to hear out of him anyways. You gently wrapped your hands around his shirt collar, pulling him in closer. Jungkook could feel himself lean in closer, the twinging feeling of lust swallowing him whole. The tantalizing feeling made Jungkook’s vision blur. Such a strong reaction to your simple gestures. The muscular boy looked at you through hooded eyes and soon your lips were connected in a deep kiss. His big hands found your waist and you relished the way his touch felt. Jungkook was such a good kisser it was almost too good to be true. His current surroundings slipped his mind as he tenderly deepened the kiss, desiring too much more from you. The moment seemed to last forever until you both tentatively pulled away from each other.The boy seemed stunned, clearly at a loss of words. You gave him a sly wink and after a brief moment of silence, he finally said something. “What was that for?” He questioned, raising a brow. “I knew you wouldn’t be the one to do it first.” You spoke with confidence and you wondered where it even came from if you were being honest. Something magnetic was pulling you towards this boy and you couldn’t fight those needs any longer. Jimin carefully set a lined piece of notebook paper on the desk and glanced at everyone. “It’s finished?” Lisa gawked. She didn’t expect him to write it for them all in such a short amount of time. The boy only nodded in response. Taehyung slung his bag over his shoulder, taking long purposeful strides as he walked outside.Lisa followed slowly behind him, awkwardly waving goodbye to everyone. “See you on Monday, Lisa.” Taehyung nodded his head in her direction, before hopping into the passenger seat of his dad’s truck. You stood beside your dad’s vehicle expectantly. Jungkook gently pressing you against the door as his determined gaze met yours. Taking your diamond studded earring out of your ear, you took his much larger hand in yours and placed it in his. Jungkook put the earring in his pierced ears, watching the car turn into a small dot before disappearing. The pure euphoria that he felt was indescribable. His heart was fluttering and his cheeks were a soft pink as his mind replayed what had just happened. He let his legs take him wherever they wanted to go, his body moving on his own accord. The sun was setting and the humongous football field was completely empty. Jungkook broke out into a full on sprint and punched his gloved fist into the air. Monday was going to be interesting.

Mr.Kim squinted and his tightly gripped hand clutched onto the piece of notebook paper.

“Dear Mr.Kim, we accept the fact we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. What we did was wrong, but we think you’re crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us. In the simplest terms. The most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess and a criminal. Does that answer your question? Sincerely yours, The Breakfast Club.”

[akeijies]

lowkey

mitsuya t. x reader

summary: mitsuya and reader are in the same club, cute pining, secret kisses, hushed confessions. college au but toman is still a thing hehe

contains: fluff, lots of fluff. the tiniest bit of angst like a sentence tiny draken appearance, headcanons and a little drabble

you and mitsuya are in the same club and you always admired how nice and soft spoken he was, he’s so nice to everyone and offers so much encouragement and big smiles and it just made you fall

the both of you start talking when he offers to help you with a sewing project, or he asks if you could model something for him so he could see how it looks on someone

eventually you both talk a lot more, he cracks little jokes, flashes his smiles, runs his hands through his cropped hair. you tease him about his little yelps whenever he sticks himself with a needle and the way his eyes light up like a kid in a candy shop whenever a piece he’s working on comes out perfect

the first time takashi kissed you was when he had a custom piece that he just finished and you wanted to be the first person to see it in all of its beauty

he thought your excitement was really cute and you were just showering him in little praises and he got all blushy and bashful like

“it’s not that great— it just a little something”

“yeah a little something that you made!”

his lips were really soft and it was this sweet soft kiss that made your eyes flutter shut and you only opened them after you both pulled away with a little sigh oh my

after that day you both spend a lot more time in the club room, shoulders pressed together, quick kisses once the club room frees of everyone but the two of you, fingers that brush against the others neck when they go to fix a collar or grab the measuring tape that hangs on shoulders

you both normally leave the club room and go your separate ways but one day it’s raining and takashi offers to take you home on his bike because no one‘s out on the street and he doesn’t want you walking in the rain by yourself

it’s a quiet ride home the both of you just the tiniest bit awkward in this environment outside the comfort of the club room but it’s nice, with your arms wrapped around his waist and your head resting on his back

you don't pass anyone who stands out on the street, but someone pulls up next to the bike that you and takashi ride and it's two guys one with longer blond hair and the one behind him has the end of a ponytail barely poking out from the bottom of his helmet

they don't say anything and you feel a little off so you tighten your arms around takashi an a few seconds after that the other bike rides off leaving you both behind.

eventually you both get to your house and takashi helps you off the bike and he offers you a hug and he can tell what you're probably thinking and he gives you a small smile and just "those were my friends, they were just reminding me that we have somewhere to be tonight is all. don't worry."

you know he’s in toman, it’s something that never ceases to worry you but you never ever bring it up because it’s not your business. takashi is grown enough to handle himself

the next day takashi isn't at club and your heart is in your chest and you can barely stay in the room after everyone leaves and when you walk outside the door and the same guy who was on the back of the bike from yesterday and he's cut up a little bit and he's got some scratches on his face and it doesn't make you feel any better.

"mitsuya's okay."

"w-what?"

"he's fine, he's outside actually. he didn't want everyone to see his face and ask questions."

"you're not helping at all."

"huh?"

you see takashi, outside and your heart leaps because he doesn't look like your imagined and he only has a couple of cuts and bandages on his face and he's deadpanning at the guy next to you and it makes a little laugh bubble out of you

"i could have went and got her myself, draken."

"yeah but you were taking too long so i did it." draken gives you a tiny smile that turns into a little smirks when he looks at mitsuya. "i'll see you later"

"you need to be more careful," you step closer to him; space smaller than it's ever been without any excuse to be.

your hands slowly come up to graze his jaw where a small bruise is formed and your heart aches when he winces away from your touch.

mitsuya sees the hurt flash in your eyes and he immediately grabs your wrist and places a small kiss to your palm, like he's telling you your touch could never hurt him.

"it was just a little fight, it wasn't too crazy." he sees how that didn't really help anything and he gives this cute, kiddish, quirk of a smile before, "--you should see the other guy."

that makes a laugh bubble out of you and you close the gap between the two of you and pulling him into a hug, that must hurt a little bit by how tense he is but he wraps his arms back around you, squeezing you back.

you both stand in the shadows for a while trading kisses, hands ghosting against each other's backs over sweaters and jackets.

mitsuya walks you home again once you both finally pull away from each other. legs move at a lethargic pace, backroads get taken, knuckles brush against each others. he tells you about draken and how they actually have the same tattoo, he laughs at your reaction because it's expected but so cute, and how mikey is a really great leader and friend and how he's really thankful for toman, and how he knows it's a dangerous thing to be involved in but he's happy he's involved in it with them.

you're at your house and you welcome him inside to press more kisses against his cheeks and his neck. your fingers trace where you imagine his tattoo to be.

he tucks his face into your neck and whispers about how he wishes he could take you out on a date, and that these little happenings couldn't only happen in little shadows and clubrooms and your bedroom, but he wouldn't know what to do if someone after him saw you and did something to you to hurt him.

you shut him up with more kisses, each one more heated than the last and explain to him that you understand and that you're fine with this and you're more than fine with him and that he's worried about bridges that you may or may not have to cross.

mitsuya leaves later that night. both of you drunk on intricately places touches, lips swollen with love, eyes full of comfort and smiles laced with the small promises of tomorrow.

you fall back into bed, body sprawled and limbs loose and you allow your heart to ease once you finally receive the "i'm home <3" text from mitsuya and you shoot back a response before letting your eyes droop shut.

[wwilloww]

point of no return | PJM

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Smut. Fluff. Friends to lovers. Roommates AU.

WC: 10.2k

Summary: Both Jimin and you are determined to never act on the feelings you hold for one another. Instead, you’d rather shove it down, somewhere deep, dark, and inaccessible. So what do you get when you mix a broken furnace, an old victorian home, a little bit of jealousy in the club, and a need to keep warm together? A mess.

Warnings & Tags: Cursing. Reader is really freakin cold. Jimin sleeps in the nude. Spooning. Grinding. Obscene daydreaming about your best friend.  Sex dreams. Mentions of alcohol. Dancing. Jimin is a little jealous. Masterbation. Unexpected visual. Super soft makeout. Fingering. Orgasm denial. Sex. Slight power play. Creampie.  

AN: Oof! Finally! A Jimin fic! Thank you to @thatlongspringnight for guiding me through the last 6k of this fic, all written in one day and for being the most brilliant, queen of queens level beta reader. A big thanks to @triviasapphic too, for letting me use their likeness! 

This is very loosely based on this ask beautifully submitted by the loveliest @jinpanman for the milestone request party! 

©wwilloww Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

point of no return 

“Fuckin’ shithead mutherfuckin cunt basket,” you hiss.

Nothing would turn it on.

You tried pressing the knob. You tried twisting it until your hand rubbed raw. You tried shaking it. You tried begging in your sweetest, most saccharine tone. You even tried giving it compliments.

“Have I ever told you how sexy you look with three coats of white paint? No?”

Fifteen minutes ago the antique radiator — so old it would probably be better in a museum of old technologies than as a functioning heat mechanism — stuttered to a halt and refused to turn back on.

When you had picked the house out with your best friend, Jimin, you’d loved it for it’s Victorian era charm. But now with the December cold creeping in through the thin window and your refusal to own more than one blanket you were shivering madly, teeth clattering cold. And wildly in doubt of your house hunting skills.

With a heavy sigh and slumped shoulders, you drag your comforter off of the mattress, wrap it tightly over your shivering shoulders, and pad barefoot down the hall. Instead of knocking, you just twist the door handle, letting the door swing open before you with a long, drawn-out squeak. You wince at the sound.

A dark figure sits up from the bed, squinting at you in the darkness.

“Is that—”

“It’s me,” you whisper. If it were anyone else, that response would be useless. But after years of friendship Jimin knows every tune and nook in your voice — the way it sounds when you’re upset, or scared, or — in this case — really fucking cold. “The heater broke.”

“What?” His voice is groggy and sleep-heavy.

“The heater broke. Can I stay here tonight?”

He scrunches his nose and wipes a hand across his face.

“Yeah, sure, uh—” He shifts a bit in bed and that’s when you realize he’s not wearing anything at all. You gulp. It’s the coldest month of the year and the fucker is naked in bed, nothing more than a top sheet thrown over his body, the rest of the duvet crumpled at the foot of the bed. Even though you know he’s one to sleep in the nude (“It invigorates your skin and keeps your body temperature regulated,” he had explained to you once) seeing it, in front of you, just the thinnest piece of fabric between you and your best friend’s junk is a whole other story.

As he moves, the sheet slips down, revealing his toned stomach, only visible by the moonlight flooding through the bay windows of his bedroom.

“Give me a minute to put something on?”

“Uh huh,” you mumble, turning around quickly to give him some semblance of privacy, your blanket whooshing out behind you.

You can hear him pad over to his dresser, just three feet behind you. You swallow hard as you imagine him, totally naked, so close to you. Literally within arms reach. If you could only—

“Turn around, I’m done.”

You peek over your shoulder before turning fully, only to see Jimin, now clothed in some pretty short black boxers, climbing back into bed. Blanket trailing, you shuffle after him, climbing into the warm bed from the other side.

You pull your comforter as tightly around you as you can, but you’re still cold. As you turn to face away from your friend, you can’t help but shiver, your shoulders shaking with the chill that’s settled deep in your bones.

“Can you stop shaking?” Jimin’s sleep-adled voice grunts from behind you.

“I’m too cold,” you whine.

“Come ‘ere—”

And before you know it, he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and dragging your body backwards until it meets his. He pulls the blanket up and slides in behind you, wrapping himself around your shivering form.

“Better?” he asks while you’re still in shock from the amount of contact he’s just put the two of you in.

“Mhmm,” you squeak out, even as your body continues to shake.

“You’re a liar,” he chuckles.

“I don’t know why you bothered to ask then,” you snap back, wrapping your arms tight around yourself.

You’re not sure if he sees this or if he’s acting on his own accord. You let out a small gasp as he tugs you even closer, his arm slipping under the blanket to press against the skin of your hip. He maneuvers you backwards, your body as limp as a puppet, while you lay there in shock (and a small bit of exhilaration). He presses the back of your body flush against his front and snakes his top arm up the front of your torso until it rests in the center of your chest, gripping your opposite shoulder.

Trapped.

You’re trapped in his arms, nowhere to move, nowhere to go. Only the sound of your combined breaths, his a little more slow and sleepy than your nervous pant. Trapped only with the idea of him so close, and the strange thing fluttering in your chest that only continues to grow bigger and bigger despite all the work you’ve done to push it away. All you can think about is the way he’s pressed up against you, only your thin flannel pajama pants and his even thinner black boxers keeping the most sensitive parts of your bodies apart.

When he shifts, nustling his nose into the crook of your shoulder, you swear you can feel something long and hard press up against your ass.

And suddenly the warmth that is flooding through you has absolutely nothing to do with the shared body heat. Instead it’s coming from someplace deep down — somewhere yearning and desperate — and also from that strange fluttering thing in your chest.

All there is is white. You know somewhere far above you is an endless sea of stars, blinking down on you. But all you know is the grass beneath you and the swimming white sheets that float above and around you.

Someone’s laughing and you turn your face to see him — Jimin — beaming and reaching out towards you.

Somewhere in your mind you know it’s night time and that everything should be dark — and yet, everything around him is lit up and glows with a sourceless light.

Joy rushes through you and as you reach out towards him, he disappears and a new kind of light — warmth — appears behind you.

“I want—” you start to say, but his hand comes up to your mouth, silencing you.

“If you speak, you’ll break the dream,” he says. “Just enjoy it. Let me be here with you.”

Eyes don’t close in dreams, but you know you drift somewhere soft, the feeling of his body so close to yours and the precious rhythm of his breath tracing your neck.

All there is warmth.

Too much of it, actually.

As your eyes blink open to the dark room, the remnants of some dream, lots of white, Jimin’s smile fall away from your consciousness. You kick your leg out into the freezing air and sigh as the coolness washes the heat from your body. Relief.

The warmth that hasn’t been erased, however, is sitting heavy in your lower belly, pooling and swirling and wanting.

You do your best to ignore it, knowing it’s probably some mix of the dream and the thing that you’ve kept hidden on the edge of your consciousness for too long.

You close your eyes again, wishing for sleep to come back and pull you away from these thoughts. Just as you feel the soft edges of another dream lapping at the edges of your mind, Jimin groans behind you and comes to press up against you again, his hand snaking down over your belly.

Eyes shoot open. There. Behind you. Right between the swell of your ass. You can feel his cock pressing into you, at full hardness. You gasp at the sensation, quickly slapping your hand over your mouth so as not to wake him. Slowly, you try to scootch away from his grip, but he holds you there, his arm only tightening when you try to move away.

It’s not that you don’t want it — you do — your body is singing with electricity at the thought of his hard cock against you, between you, inside you. God, if only. However, it’s the consequences, the unspoken question, the unanswered desires (the answer to which you may just not want to know) that push you away from him.

This is your best friend. The person you’ve always been able to rely on and trust. The man you know you can turn to at any moment and know there will never be a question dangling between the two of you.

Except for now.

As he slowly circles his hips against yours, the most delightful, breathy pants falling from his lips — so soft you can barely hear them — the question looms larger than ever.

Are you in love with your best friend?

However, here, his arm wrapped so tightly around your belly, it’s easy to sink into the desire. To equate the arrival of the question with the arousal rising in your body. To tell yourself this is just pleasure, this is natural.

Jimin’s palm is splayed out across your lower belly, pressing hard against you.

He’s rutting shallowly against you, moving for the sake of his own pleasure. A high note of satisfaction slips from his lips, before a name tumbles shortly after it into your ear.

Not any name.

Your name.

You choke on your own words as you understand it. Confusion rushes over you but it’s quickly replaced by adrenaline as his hand clenches and unclenches around your shirt and he shifts and stretches.

Jimin is waking up. Is he going to say something? Is he going to tell you he didn’t mean it at all? Will he run from you?

His body freezes as he realizes the position he’s in. Wrapped so intimately around you, his hard cock pressed against you.

“Shit,” you hear him whisper. “Shit, shit, shit.”

You squeeze your eyes closed and lay as still as possible as you feel him pull away from you. And then the bed dips just enough and you realize he’s leaning over you, checking to see if you’re asleep or not.

You smooth out your features, hoping he doesn’t catch that you’ve been awake this whole time.

The December morning light is streaming in bold and warm through the window.

Your hand goes searching for Jimin, but all you find is an empty, chilled, pillow. There’s a good chance he’s already headed out for the day to see friends or to run errands and so you assume it’s safe as you tiptoe downstairs to get some water and some much needed coffee. Not that you slept much last night.

As you enter the kitchen, the earthy smell of fresh coffee hits you and you take a deep breath, inhaling the nutty aroma. There’s a full pot of coffee already waiting for you on the counter. You smile. Jimin has always been a considerate housemate, but to leave you coffee in the morning? I’m so lucky to have a friend like him, you sigh as you turn to the cabinet to grab a mug.

“Good morning!” an almost nervous, too-cheery voice sings out from behind you.

“AGh!” you cry, nearly dropping the mug you’re holding. Jimin’s quicker than you are though, and reaches out, just as it drops below your belly button. He’s laughing, his delightful giggle filling the light-painted kitchen but all you can think about is how close he’s standing to you, the mug brushing up against your stomach.

“Got it,” he grins.

“You know you can’t jump out at me like that!” you scold, trying to take the mug back from him. But he turns and goes to fill it up for you.

“I literally said your name twice before you noticed. Someone was too lost in dreamland.”

“Pshh, no, I — you need to be a little louder.”

“Can we talk about last night?” Jimin asks as he hands you a cup of coffee. “I, uh, I think there was an accident, I had a dream you were—”

You panic.

“Last night? Oh gosh yeah! I slept like a rock! Thank you for keeping me warm. I would have frozen to death if it weren’t for you.”

You smile as sweetly as you can at him.

He blinks back.

“I mean — uh, yeah, sure, I mean, you’re welcome but that’s not what I mean —”

“Nothing to talk about!” you chirp, already scurrying towards the stairs that lead back up to your bedroom.

“Hey! I’m trying to talk to you!” he cries as you pad upstairs, making a beeline for your bedroom as the coffee you’re holding sloshes around in the mug.

“Oof, well I’m already tired again, gonna take a nap!”

You sprint up the stairs and as you do you hear him call behind you.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it!”

It hits harder than you want it to.

“Come on, princess. You’re taking forever!”

You’re back down on your bed, swaddled in all the blankets in the house you could find, scrolling through your phone.

“I don’t want to go!”

“Well I do!” The door finally swings open and Jimin stands there, all dolled up for the night out. He’s wearing tight leather pants that hug his toned thighs just right and a half opened black shirt that he’s still buttoning as you look on. Beneath his hands, his chest shows, the muscular planes simple and sheer perfection. A single silver earring dangles from his left ear, the other one filled with a variety of studs.

As you peek out of your blanket fort, you gulp as you take in his flawless appearance. He looks like straight sex, the darkness of his outfit highlighting every muscle and curve.

"You look nice," you manage to squeak, and Jimin blushes, his praise kink showing. "Those pants are..." Hot as fuck? More beautiful than the Mona Lisa? Just asking me to rip them off? Floundering for language, you just let your sentence trail off as he looks on, a pink tinge still dancing across his features.

"You wanna wear them?"

"Pfft, no," you lie.

“Are you planning on getting out of bed?”

“No.”

"Well then, if you're not going to get out of bed and dress yourself I'll do the honors." Jimin stomps over to the tiny door leading to your closet and swings it open. He ruffles through your set of clothes, as disparate from a full flannel collection (one that you are quite proud of) to an evening gown that never got worn. Words you can't quite hear or understand tumble from his mouth in a stream of frustrated mumbles as he seems to be looking for something very specific. "Aha!" he finally cries out. "Here it is."

What he pulls out is not what you expected.

It's a simple piece. A light tan slip dress, one with a bit of a scoop to the bust. One that hugs all of your curves just right and sits low enough the weight keeps the dress exactly where you want it to be and high enough that your upper thighs are deliciously on display - something that simultaneously excites you and scares the hell out of you. You bought it on a whim, hoping it would help you embody your inner club girl (or "inner slut" as your friend Jungkook would correct you - which, if you were being entirely honest, was really what you meant when you spoke about going to the club.)

"That one? Really?"

"What, you wanna wear this?" He turns back to the closet before pulling out a second dress, this one long and emerald green and sparkly with a full slit up the side.

"No." You pout.

"Then what's the problem?"

"Ugh!" you cry, burrowing deeper into your blanket fort. "Itsmyslutdress," you mumble.

"What?"

"Itsmyslutdress!" you mumble, but louder this time.

"Did you just call it a slut dress?"

You pop your head out of the warmth cocoon with a sigh.

"Yes."

"What does that even mean?"

"It is the dress I wear when I want to embody my slutty alter-ego. The dress I wear when I wanna get laid."

Jimin blinks a few times before turning back to you with a grin.

"Well--do you not want to get laid tonight?" he asks slowly.

You gape at him.

Even as best friends, even talking about your hookups, you never really talked about sex iteself. Everytime you brought it up, whether it was at the bar and you were ogling some tall, dark, handsome stranger as if some psychic had promised you he was your entire future, he always seemed to shut down. And yet, around your other friends, he was an open book. "Basically a sex expert," Jungkook had told you once. "A sexpert." He'd added, grinning.

But with you, sex was off the table. You were more open and vulnerable with him than you were anyone in your life - and he with you. But sex was just never on the discussion board for you two.

"Do you wanna get laid tonight?"

"Are you offering?" you shoot back teasingly.

"Of course," he says softly.

Your mouth drops.

Of course? Of course?!

"I mean! No! What? Wait? Can you repeat the question?"

"You said yes," you say slowly.

"What! No! I did not!"

Jimin is basically stomping his foot on the ground.

"You did!"

He looks almost angry and you're not sure whether to laugh at the softness with which he had agreed to fuck you - or to feel hurt by his quick change of mind.

"Did not!"

You break into giggles finally releasing yourself from your cocoon of warmth to sprawl out on the bed in a fit of laughter. Your little tirade is quickly shut down though as the silky fabric of the dress is thrown onto your face and you cough around the material.

"Get dressed. I don't want to be late," he says, his voice flat.

“It’s too cold for the slut dress,” you grumble in a last ditch effort, fabric falling into your mouth as you sleep.

“Then wear a fucking turtleneck and snow pants to the club,” Jimin says. “I don’t care, just please get dressed.”

The door slams and when you pull the dress away from your face, the room is empty again. With a sigh, you roll off the bed and begin to get ready for the night.

By the time you pulled up to the dark, sticker-plastered doors of the club, Jimin had resumed his usually joyful and peppy demeanor, all memories of his little slip up erased from the night.

You knew better than to push him about it. You knew that he shut down when you called him out on these things in the past— like the way his eyes lingered on you for too long when you showed off a new bathing suit, the cute little stutter he donned when he was flustered by you, or the way he would basically run at top speed in any direction away from you when you emerged from the shower, nothing but a towel wrapped around your body.

As you are swallowed into the sea of dancing figures and booming bass, you feel his hand come to rest on your waist. Pushing further into the crowd, his touch is reassuring. Steadying. His way of keeping a hold on you without actually holding onto you.

He sees them before you do, and quickly grabs onto your hand, tugging you forward into the mass of swaying figures. Waving and yelling their names, the two of you tumble towards your friends. Jungkook and Raven stand near the bar, their faces lighting up when they finally spot you in the mess of strangers.

Raven embraces you first, his arms pulling you in for a tight hug.

“I wanna dance!” Jungkook says before you can even step away from Raven. Drinks abandoned, Jungkook has grabbed both yours and Jimin’s hands and drags you out to the dance floor.

The bass courses through you as your friends surround you, bopping and swaying to the barely understandable lyrics.

Jimin has always been a good dancer. A great dancer, actually. His moves range from absolutely side-achingly hilarious to -- dare you say it -- undeniably sensual.

He twirls you onto the dance floor, the two of you falling into your usual routine of swinging and laughing and kicking all around.

And as the upbeat and perhaps misplaced summer hit switches to a more sensual song he matches it naturally, letting his hips sway and glide to the rhythm. He pulls you along with him, twirling you more slowly. When you twist into his grasp, he doesn’t hesitate to take you into his arms, pressing you against him.

As his arms come to wrap around your shoulders, you can’t help but press back into him.

Raven winks at you and you grin back at him, shooing him and his teasing away.

It’s easy to fall into this. Easy to fall into the sway of Jimin’s body and the safety that comes with being pressed so close against him. You fit perfectly into his body, every one of your curve the antithesis to his. Like two puzzle pieces.

You let your hand drop down to his thigh, gripping it for stability as you sway your hips against his. The muscle tenses beneath your touch and you take that as an opportunity to roll your ass against his crotch.

He meets your movements, grinding back up into you, his hand dropping to your waist where he grips you tightly and guides your movements even further back into him.  

"We shouldn't be doing this," he whispers in your ear.

His body pressed against yours feels like the most natural thing in the world. The nights the two of you have spent in your kitchen, sliding around in socks and grooving to your favorite music, springing each other around your shared house — all of those hours, all of those years make it so when he moves against you he knows exactly what he’s doing and exactly what you want him to do. You move in tandem, as if you are sharing a brain, a story, a body.

You tilt your head up to him, nuzzling into his neck.

“Why not?”

“I-I can’t mess up.” He says, but he continues to sway at your back.

“You’re not messing up. I like this.”

As you reach behind you, letting your hand trail up beneath his shirt, you can feel him press into your touch. Chasing it, searching it out. But as your hand trails back down, fingernails scraping delicately against the skin, he seems to snap out of it and steps back from you, even as he keeps his hands on your hips.

You turn, trying to pull him back to you, but you see his brow is furrowed.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Just fine!” he says, just a little to cheerfully. “I-I just think I’m done with dancing for tonight.”

Even as he says it he pulls you closer to his chest.

“I’m going to get some drinks, do you want something?”

“You don’t want to dance with me?”

“I— uh— it’s not that.” He shakes his head.

“Please, come on, it’ll be fun,” you groan, tugging on his arm. But he stands firm and stiff. “Aren’t you having fun?”

“I don’t want to dance tonight. Just go on ahead.”

You look your friend up and down. Jimin was never one to turn down an opportunity to dance.

“Okay,” you say, painting a smile on your features even as your heart aches slightly at his rejection. “I just want you to have fun. Do you want me to come with?”

“No--it’s okay. I’ll be back, alright?”

“Alright?”

You watch as he disappears back into the mass of people. You stand still, wondering What the hell just happened?

However, your thoughts are quickly interrupted as Raven reaches out to you, pulling you to him in a graceful spin.

“Distract yourself, darling,” he says with a chuckle. “He’ll come around, don’t you worry.”

Before you have a chance to process his words, Raven spins you out again in the crowd.

You stumble just a little bit, until hands come to rest on the dip of your hips, lingering there just enough to stabilize you. However, they quickly release you as soon as you are standing tall again.

“Oh, ah, thank you,” you half-yell as you turn around, attempting to raise your voice above the noise.

The man who stands behind you is undeniably gorgeous. Tall, with a dark lock of hair hanging into your forehead and the most beautiful smile.

“No worries, it happens all the time,” he grins at you. “What’s your name.”

You yell back at him, but when he can’t hear you, you step closer to him, pressing against his chest to speak your name into his ear. His hand comes down on your waist as you do, lightly.

“My name’s Hoseok. You can call me Hobi though. Care to dance?”

You grin up at him and nod. You’ve never been one to turn down a dance partner.

He takes your hand, quick to find the rhythm of the music.

Hoseok is a natural. As each song progresses, his dances become more intricate. He’s happy to lead you through them and you can’t help but laugh as he spins you around the floor while others are swaying and grinding. You’ve never had this much fun with a stranger, but as he moves against you, you can’t help but think of the way Jimin felt pressed so close to you earlier in the night. It’s just not quite the same.

It’s easy to get lost in him, in his beaming smile and witty jokes that he bends down to whisper in your ear. He compliments you freely, and you do the same in return.

As the night continues you and Hoseok dance closer and closer until he’s pressed deliciously up against your back. You find yourself lost in the sensation of being embraced by someone, even if it isn’t the person you’d want to be there.

“I hope I’m not being too forward, but do you wanna come home with me?” The man leans down, the husk of his voice brushing deliciously against your ear.

“I can’t.” You say, turning back towards him. “But thank you.”

“No problem,” he says, leaning down to chastely kiss your cheek. “Can I ask you a question before you go?”

You nod.

“Does your refusal have anything to do with the man at the bar who hasn’t taken his eyes off of us since we started dancing?”

“What?”

He nods over your shoulder, back towards the bar. Through the crowd, you can barely see your friends, but as you reach up on your tippy toes you see them all gathered around, laughing and talking. And then at the edge of them is Jimin. He stands tall and proud and with an unusually grim expression on his face. But when he sees you looking at him, he quickly averts his gaze to his drink, which he is continually swirling in his hand.

“You’re going home with him, aren’t you?”

“Well, duh, he’s my roommate, I—”

“You should go for it,” he interrupts you.

“Go for it?”

“Go for it.”

“There’s nothing there,” you state, matter of factly. “We’re just really good friends!” You’re not sure why you tell him this, but there’s something soft in his eyes that spurs you on.

“Good friends don’t eye fuck each other all night.”

“We weren’t—”

“No need to explain it to me.” He holds up his hands. “But it seems like you have some explaining to do to him. Or at least to yourself.”

You sputter. “Psh! What! No! I’m just tired, Hobi, and if I had the energy I would be fucking you right here, right now, on the dance floor. It has nothing to do with Jimin. Nothing at all!” You realize you’ve got your finger poking into his chest and you quickly draw it back. “Sorry.”

“Okay…”

“Well.” You put your hands on your hips, wiping the frustrated look off of your face. “I should go, I guess. It was nice dancing with you, partner. I’ll be the first to admit you got great hips.”

He’s laughing, and you’re not sure if it’s at you or with you, but when you extend you hand for a friendly fistbump, he meets it with all the enthusiasm in the world, pulls you into a hug, and is off on his merry way, off to find a new dancing partner.

Left alone in the middle of the floor, you kind of just stand there, mulling over what the stranger had said to you. Soon though, you feel a hand on your shoulder and you spin around to see a blank faced Jimin.

“I, uh, just wanted to check in on you.”

“I’m all good!” you chirp, perhaps too cheerfully. As you begin to make your way back to the bar, his hand comes to rest on your lower back and you shiver at the touch.

“So you’re not going home with him?” He nods back in the direction of the disappearing stranger.

“Why would I?”

“Well, you wore your slut dress, so I figured he was a contender.” He doesn’t meet your eye.

“I didn’t want to fuck him.” You stop, and turn to him.

He laughs, almost nervously. “Well I guess that’s an important factor.”

“Yeah, just a minor detail,” you shoot back, grinning.

“I guess it’s all for the best. Didn’t like the looks of him much anyways.

You giggle. “What? Are you jealous?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I can’t be jealous.”

“Can’t be? Or aren’t?”

Jimin blinks back at you, an expression of utter surprise on his face. You know his answer in that moment, and yet — there is a kind of doubt that sits in you. That until he says it, it just won’t be real.

And still, he avoids your question.

“I think I’m gonna head home, do you wanna come with or head back with Tae and Raven?”

“I’ll come back with you, there’s nothing left here for me.”

“Great,” he says, a small smile on his lips. “Let’s go.”

“My heat is still out,” you call.

You’re standing at the door to his room in nothing but your pajama shirt. When you’d gotten home Jimin was quick to wish you goodnight and sweet dreams and book it up to his bedroom. You had gone to your own room and changed into sleep clothes, only to climb into bed and realize just how fucking freezing your blankets still were.

But as you stand outside his bedroom, when you press down on the handle, the door is unusually locked. He never locks the door, you think.

“Jimin!”

You push down on the handle, jiggling it obnoxiously as you hope your best friend can hear you from the other side, and isn’t just ignoring you. As you rattle the metal handle, something seems to come loose within the door and all of a sudden the door is swinging open inwards and there’s Jimin, leaning against the backboard of his bed, legs spread, and--

“Oh no—”

Even as your hands flash up to cover your eyes, you know it’s too late.

You’ve already seen it.

It’s imprinted on your brain. The image of Jimin with his head thrown back, hand wrapped around his throbbing cock hastily pulled out of his jeans. He must have been in such a rush he didn’t even bother to pull his pants down. Instead, the leather pants are simply tugged down just enough from him to slip his cock out of them.

“What the fuck!” he yelps.

“Did I—interrupt?” You can’t help but burst into giggles, even as you keep your hands firmly clamped to your face.

“Yes! Yes, you did!” he says, scrambling for the sheet. He pulls it over himself and then does up his pants again.

“If it makes you feel any better you have a nice looking dick!” you squeak out from behind your hands.

He wipes a hand wearily over his face.

“You really wanna have a conversation about my dick right now?”

“See a dick, converse about a dick, am I right?” you laugh nervously.

“No, no, you’re not. It usually goes like ‘see a dick, forget the fact that you ever looked at a dick.’”

“You got a point there.”

The room falls into silence for a moment before Jimin coughs and speaks.

“You can take your hands away now.”

Ever-so-slowly you release your hands from your face, looking over at Jimin who looks — not upset, not embarrassed, not angry — but intrigued. He’s looking at you with a mix of curiosity — and something else. Something you can’t quite put a finger on.

“Welp, I better be going—”

“I thought you said your heat is still out.”

You turn back around slowly.

“...It is. But I can go. I don’t want to make you feel… uncomfortable.”

“You’ve never made me feel uncomfortable. I don’t know if you could.”

“I’ve definitely made you feel uncomfortable before. Like that one time I put peanut butter on your special pickles and tried to fry them—”

“Okay, okay, maybe in like, a superficial way. But not in a deep way.” He pauses. “You’re my best friend for a reason.”

You’re still standing in the doorway, and as he looks you over — gaging your reaction, reading your emotions, trying to understand what’s going on in that far-off mind of yours — he realizes you’ve got your arms wrapped around your torso, protecting yourself from the biting draft that drifts down the hallway.

“Come ‘ere. You’re sleeping here tonight.” He says it without hesitation.

You look at him, and then back down the darkened hallway, and then back at him, the warm glow of his bedside lamp painting his features gold. His cheeks are still slightly flushed, his chest peeks out of his loose button down. And perhaps it’s that image that draws you to him — or, what you tell yourself in that moment, the inviting warmth of the layers of blankets on his bed and the radiator that sits close by.

You climb into bed, quickly tucking yourself into the blankets and rolling onto your side, away from him. However, you can feel his hands reaching out towards you, pulling the blankets closer to you, tucking you in further to their addicting warmth.

“I’m uh, gonna read for a little bit, is that okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, course,” you say, your voice slightly muffled by the pillow you’ve stolen and burry your face into.

He rifles through the nightstand. Behind you, he shifts, getting a bit more comfortable and you can hear the comforting sound of pages turning as he begins to read.

Even as you close your eyes, sleep evades you. As much as you try to banish it from your mind, it seems as if the image of his thick cock is burned into your retina, the vein on the underside of it swollen and pronounced. All you can see in your mind’s eye is Jimin, lost in his own pleasure. His face scrunched, eyes squeezed shut. What would it be like to see what he saw, whatever it was that had him gripping his cock so tight the knuckles began to turn white?

“So do you usually masterbate without porn?”

It slips out before you know what you’re saying.

He coughs behind you, and it sounds like he’s choking.

“What?!”

Well, you think. Now that it’s out there I might as well just go for it. You flip over onto your otherside, face half hidden by the blanket.

“When I walked in on you — you were just… lost in thought. No video or audio or,” you nod at the book he’s holding. “Rip off of Half a Hundred Colors of Dark-White.”

He gapes at you.

“Why are you so obsessed with my masterbatory habits, hm?”

“I-I’m not! I’m just curious, like one would be when they accidentally catch their best friend masterbating. We all, you know, do it. I, myself, have a very lovely connection of multi-colored vibrators — all sizes and shapes and, uh, textures? And vibrations and settings and speeds and—”

“So you wanna talk about it then?” He’s still sitting above, looking down on you. He cocks an eyebrow at your surprised expression. “You didn’t want to talk about last night but you want to talk about how I get myself off?”

It’s your turn to gape.

“Uh, what? Last night, psh no!”

He readjusts his position so he’s facing you now, one leg bent and propped up, the other one folded beneath it. You do your best to keep your gaze focused on his face, and not on the prominent bulge that is now in your direct line of vision.

“So you weren’t grinding on my cock last night — or god forbid tonight at the club — But you wanna know about my masterbatory habits?”

You swallow and despite the chill air of the bedroom, you sit up, letting the blankets fall around your waist.

“I suppose that is what I’m asking.”

Heart pounding in your chest, you lick your lips. You know what you’re asking. You know where you’re pushing things. Everything about this next step terrifies you. And yet, it’s all you’ve been thinking about for the past 24 hours. Hell, the past several years.

You’d be lying if you said that last night’s dream was the tamest of the ones Jimin starred in. He haunted you. His image, his being, were everywhere you turned. Even when you were with other partners or one night stands, all you could do was compare them to Jimin. Were they as softly hilarious as him? Did they know your every thought, your every desire, like he did? Could they anticipate your mood before you even could? Did they fill you with that feeling of belonging and safety like he did? No. None of them ever did. You didn’t just crave Jimin’s attention, you craved his touch.

“You know, most friends talk about this kind of shit.”

“Do they?”

“Yes. They talk about sex. They talk about getting off. They talk about their interests and turn-offs and fantasies and--”

“And you wanna talk about this?” His hand lands on yours. You look up at him as he squeezes your fingers within his warm grasp.

“I-I guess I do. Sometimes it bothers me that we don’t talk about it.”

“Then let’s talk about it,” he says, a little bit more confidence slipping into his voice. He picks your hand up, weaving his fingers in between yours. The way he looks at them reminds you of someone looking at a beautiful vista or an undiscovered creature for the first time. There is wonder -- and also confusion -- in him. “I never wanted to make you uncomfortable. I never wanted to… turn our friendship into something that you didn’t want. Something that made you uncomfortable.”

“And I didn’t want to push.”

“Push me? Into what?”

You glance down at your hands. “I don’t know, something that you were disgusted by.”

“I could never be disgusted by you. It’s the opposite, actually.”

“Then why do you keep pushing me away? When I want to talk about things? When I want to be close to you?”

Jimin is silent for a moment.

“Because I’m never sure if this is just fun to you,” he says softly. “What if something happens and you realize you don’t want it in the way you thought you did?”

“And what if something happens and it’s exactly what I want?” One hand still resting in his grasp, you reach out with the free one to clutch onto his shirt. Not wanting to push too far, you make do with tangling your fingers in the silky fabric, twisting it around yourself until you are lost in it.

You don’t see it coming. His hand reaching up to yours, pressing your hand to his chest. Slowly, he slides your intertwined hands up until he can press your palm to his chest. Beneath the fabric you can hear the gentle thud of his heart beating, quicker than usual. And there, he just holds it. Mulling. Contemplating.

“It feels like I’ve been distracted…” He licks his lips as he considers his next several words. “...for weeks. Probably longer. I’ve been trying to hold everything in because it’s not supposed to be there. But the temptation to just give in… To just lean into the things that I want… It’s always there. It doesn’t go away. But--sometimes I can distract myself from it.”

“What is it that you want?”

His gaze flickers back up from your lips. The look in his eyes is searing. Burning. There’s desire there — one that’s all consuming — but something else too. He refuses to look away from you, instead roving over your whole face as if he’s trying to memorize it. As if when he speaks next he might forget you entirely. And that’s when you realize. It’s not confusion dancing in his eyes. It’s loss. He thinks he’s going to lose you.

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t have it.”

“You can.”  

“I can’t.” He squeezes his eyes shut, like he’s trying to hold back. “There— there are lines that once you cross you can never go back to.”

“Jimin, I want you.”

The words hang in the stilled silence of the room like lead, suspended and out of place. But you push on, and as you do, his grip tightens around your hands and he’s pulling you forward until you’re flush against his chest.

“And it’s not because of your monster cock -- although that’s like a really really great benefit that I’ll be honest, I wasn’t expecting--” Jimin raises an eyebrow. “Anyways, I want you for you. I think I’ve wanted you since I met you, but--” You glance down. “I’ve been too scared to admit it. Too scared or too dumb.”

Jimin raises your chin so that you are eye to eye. He’s so close.

“I’ve wanted you since I laid eyes on you.” He lets his hands drop to your hips, maneuvering you so that you’re fully straddling his waist as he sits up against the headboard. “I wanted you in my life, in whatever way that would be. I wanted you as my best friend and my inspiration and my home -- and to have you like that? I would never want to fuck it up.”

“Then don’t.”

“Simple as that,” he laughs, his hands coming to rest on your hips. He tightens his grip and you instinctively wrap your hands around his neck, tugging him closer to you.

“Simple as that,” you repeat.

The words hang in the air for a moment, filling the space of the bedroom. And then their sound is gone, leaving the air vacant of sound. The weight of what you’ve both just said crashes down upon you.

Simple as that.

“I want to kiss you,” Jimin whispers. “Can I kiss you?”

“Always,” you barely manage to mumble before your lips are crashing together. They begin clumsily, desperate. Teeth knocking together as you both scramble frantically for connection. For the missed years. For the gazes thrown across the hallway, quick and longing.

And then you find your groove. Just like on the dance floor, there is an unspoken communication to the way that you move together. Chasing and pursuing. Biting and pressing. You gasp as Jimin slips his tongue between your lips, swiping against the roof of your mouth.

It feels like forever and no time at all that you’re wrapped up in his arms, his hands climbing the height of your back as he pulls you as close as he possibly can.

As the kiss slips into gentleness, you feel him between your legs. He’s impossibly hard. You don’t know if it’s thought or basic instinct that leads you to press your hips forward, sliding ever so slightly along his length. You know you’ve done the right thing when he groans into your mouth. You do it again, this time swiveling against him. His hands snake down to your hips, fingers digging into the fleshy bits of your sides.

“I don’t think you know what you’re doing,” he groans against your lips.

“I know exactly what I’m doing.”

He kisses you fiercely and you let your hands wander beneath the silk of his shirt, tracing the planes of his skin until you’ve had enough and need more. You attempt to tug the fabric up, but he seems lost in your lips.

“Off, please,” you say when you can’t get it over his shoulders.

He grins at you and shucks it off in one go, tossing it onto the floor.

You lean back just enough to admire him like this, the planes of his chest glowing dimly in the light of the lamp.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmur in awe.

He captures your lips again, his movements soft and dutiful. And then with all the gentleness in the world, he turns the both of you, cradling the nape of your neck as he lowers you down onto the pillows.

“I never thought I could have you like this.”

“Me neither. I-I don’t know if I can go back.”

“Don’t worry, darling. I already know I don’t want to go back.”  

You smile up at him, a feeling of warmth and love spreading through your chest. As he sits back, looking down on you, you tug your shirt over your head, tossing it to join his discarded top on the floor.

His eyes rove over your naked form, bare of everything except for the grannie panties you slipped on before knocking on his door. At the beginning of the night you wanted nothing but to make sure everything was thoroughly covered. Now you wish you had gone for something a bit more stylish.

Even as you think this, looking at him you know he doesn’t give a flying fuck what you’re wearing.

He leans down again, kissing you. He lets his weight rest just enough on you as he settles between your legs and you arch up at the dull contact.

As he bites down on your lip, you push up into him, searching for more.

“Can I touch you?” he asks.

“Please,” you gasp.

His hand comes down on your thigh, pushing you open just enough. And then, as he comes back to kiss you, he slips his hand down your stomach, fingers teasing at the waistband of your panties.

You can’t help as your hips buck up as he slips a finger down your folds. You’re already soaking, arousal quickly coating his finger.

“Shh, shh,” he whispers against your lips, gaze searching yours. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

As the final word slips out of his mouth, he inserts the first finger into your tight entrance and you yelp in pleasure, the feeling of him filling you more sensation than you could imagine. Ever so slowly, he begins to pump it in and out before adding a second finger.

“I want to get you ready for me,” he murmurs. “If that’s what you want.”

“I want it,” you gasp as he presses against your g spot. “Please, I need it, please, Jimin, fuck me.”

“Patience, baby. I will in due time. But first I need you a little more stretched out.”  

When he adds a third finger, the pressure building deliciously in your abdomen, there’s nothing you can do to hold back the way your body jerks or the whine that slips through your lips.

“God, I never even imagined you would sound this desperate, this beautiful.”

As he continues to press against the soft spongy spot inside you, you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to keep control but quickly losing it.

“You thought about this?”

“Of course I thought about it.”

“Tell me what you thought about,” you pant, his fingers still working rhythmically in and out of you.

“The list is endless,” he murmurs. “I think about what it would feel like to fuck you. What it would sound like to have you call my name. What it would be like to have you cum again and again around my cock, and then walk out of here, with it dripping down your leg so that anyone who sees will know it too. To have you so fucked out and screaming that everyone in a ten mile radius knows exactly who is fucking you so well, who you belong to.”

“Ah!” you cry as your orgasm begins to build. “Jimin! I’m so close, I--”

And just like that, his fingers are gone from your clenching walls and you are left with a feeling of absolute emptiness drifting through you. He pulls back with a smirk.

“Wha--”

“When you come, I want it to be around my cock.”

Your gaze flickers down to his crotch, where his dick is straining against the tight confines of the leather. “That just can’t be comfortable,” you say, your voice shaking even as you unapologetically eye his obvious arousal. “Please take them off. I’ll make you feel good.”

“You can?”

“I want to,” you explain. “I want to help.” You look up at him again and see that his gaze is dark with desire. “Can I?”

Slowly, he nods, and you reach out towards him, for the buttons to his jeans. As your fingers land on the cold metal of the button, his come down atop yours, popping the button open expertly.

As you slowly slide the zipper down, you swallow.

Everything about this feels right. There’s the sensation of a fire burning in your chest. It’s not just wanting his body. It’s chasing the feeling of electricity sparking through you every time he touches you. Chasing the want of his hands, his gaze, his everything focused on you. Something twinges in your heart. Even as you want these things, you know it’s not fair to ask them of him, to expect them of him.

He stands to slip the rest of his pants off and you realize he’s not even wearing underwear. You gulp as you watch him strip, his beautiful body soon revealed in the dim lighting. His cock stands at full attention, deliciously hard and poking against his belly.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks.

“I want it more than anything.”

The bed dips underneath his weight as he climbs towards where you lay. He lowers himself above you, expertly balancing his weight so that it doesn’t crush you. With one hand, he reaches down to palm his hard cock, the tip red and angry with need. With his knee, he pushes your legs wide open, making room for himself and spreading you out before him. At a devastatingly slow speed, he lines himself up with your aching center.

“So wet for me, princess. You’ve always been beautiful to me, but spread out like this, just waiting for my cock? You’re a dream.”

“Please,” you gasp.

“Please what?”

As he comes to nestle his cock in between your dripping folds, you whimper with need.

All you can feel is his cock, his touch against your skin, the way his presence surrounds you and envelopes you.

“Please,” you whisper. “I need you, Jimin.”

He chuckles.

“You’re so desperate, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“Want you to fuck me.”

“My baby wants me to fuck her?” He slides slowly in and your back arches devilishly at the sensation of his fat cock stretching you open for him. He watches your facial expression carefully, not wanting to hurt you or push you too far too fast.

When he sees you relax just a little, he pushes in even further until he’s nestled inside you to the hilt. Once he knows you’re comfortable, he lets himself slip into the pleasure of you wrapped all around him. His eyes flutter closed, and he nestles his nose into the crook of your neck.

Gathering himself, he takes a deep breath, pushing up off of you so that he can better look down at you, your hair splayed on the pillow, cheeks warm with arousal, eyes wide in pleasure.

“God, you’re perfect for my cock. Like you were made to fit me.”

“Mmf, so big,” you groan as he shifts inside you. “Never felt this full before.”

As he begins to move, you gasp, hands coming up to cling at his back. The drag of his cock against the walls of your cunt is divine and you can’t help as your nails dig into his skin, raking down the planes of his back.

His eyes never leave your face, tracing your pleasure every time it flashes across your features.

“When I imagined this,” he pants, “I never even thought it could feel this good.”

He withdraws at a maddeningly slow pace, until just the tip of his cock rests inside your warmth.

“Please Jimin,” you gasp. “I need more.”

He smirks down at you. “More?” He gives a shallow thrust.

“More,” you groan, trying to push your hips down on him, anything to take him further into you. However, his hand quickly comes down on your hips, stopping all movement.

Leaning down to capture your lips in a feverish kiss, you gasp into his mouth as he thrusts into you with a great force. You cry his name as he bites down on your lower lip, the pace he sets brutal and exactly what you need. Each thrust rolls through your entire body, setting your nerves alight. When he gives a particularly hard thrust, your spine arches, hands slipping away from his back and coming to wrap around his wrists.

When he growls, you clench at the sound.

Your eyes flicker open in time to see his mouth gape and he groans when you do it again.

He answers your tightness with another roll of his hips, this time changing the angle just enough that it hits your g spot directly. You spasm around his cock, crying out as he continues to fuck you.

“You’ve ruined me,” Jimin gasps. “Nothing else, no one else is going to be like this. I wanna fuck this cunt until you can’t think of anything else.”

You start to respond, to tell him how much you want that, but his hand comes down on your clit, rubbing just gently enough that you’re yelping in a mixture of pleasure and overstimulation.

“I’m really gonna fuck you now, baby. I want you to touch yourself until you can’t anymore, okay?”

You nod, reaching down to your clit where your fingers brush against one another. You look down to see his cock rutting in and out of you, coated in your juices. As he withdraws his hand, he begins to pick up his speed.

The pace he sets reaches deep into your body, setting every nerve alight. You cling to him, begging him to fuck you harder. His cock seems to reach every single sensitive spot within you as rock your hips back up to his, meeting his every movement. He lets you now, lost in the feeling of your bodies moving together, seeking the same pleasure together.

When his pace begins to stutter, thrusts becoming long and rough, you know he’s close to his end.

“Baby, I’m going to come,” he groans. He begins to sit back up and withdraw, but you wrap a hand around his neck and pull him towards you, the other one coming to press on the dip of his hips.

“Come inside, Jimin.”

“But--”

“I’m safe. I want to feel you come inside me. Wanna come with you.”

He groans at your words and lowers himself to you, letting his hips grind against yours in a tide of sensation. Each movement pulls you closer and closer to your orgasm until three words are tumbling from his lips and you are tipping over the edge.

He kisses you as you both ride out your orgasm, waves of pleasure washing through your body and into his as if you are connected on more than just a physical level. His lips are soft against yours, guiding you through your orgasm. Everything is breathless and wildly full, all at once.

Pulling back as his cock twitches within you, he peppers your neck with kisses, his plush lips pressing softly against the delicate skin beneath your ear.

“I love you, baby,” he murmurs against your skin.

“I love you too,” you hum, eyes fluttering blissfully closed as you tangle a hand in his hair, pressing him closer to you.

That’s how you fall asleep. Tangled up in each other, bodies meshed together until there’s no way to tell which way is up.

You wake up wrapped in warmth. The kind of warmth that radiates from your heart, shining on outwards and into the room around you. And, as your eyes blink open, you notice it also radiates from the absolute furnace that clings to your back.

“Mmm,” the furnace grumbles, rubbing his nose against the soft nape of your neck. You can feel him press his lips against the top of your spine, his breath fanning delicately against your skin. “G’morning.”

“Morning.” You speak softly, as if any noise will break the memory of last night, his whispered affections against your skin as you drifted off to sleep still hanging in the air. Too loud and you will shatter and destroy the memory. The words of his confession still carved into your skin, your mixed pleasures riddled through your body, the song of his joy and laughter emblazoned into the room -- all of that, you think, will disappear if you move too quickly or speak too loudly.

However, that notion is quickly banished when Jimin rolls over and groans dramatically, spreading his limbs out until he starfishes over the entire bed -- including you. With a little grunt, he flips over on his belly, shimmying over to you. Pulling the blankets down around you, you gasp as the cool air hits your skin.

He’s quick to rectify this as he rolls onto you, resting his head on your stomach, blowing a raspberry into your skin. You screech in laughter and as the sensation rushes through you, tickling you.

It takes a minute or two before you calm down, looking lovingly down at the man who holds your heart and running a hand through his hair, brushing it off of his forehead.

“I love you, you know that?” he mumbles into your belly.

“Do you?” you giggle, doubt still riddled in your mind.

His eyes shoot up to yours.

“Of course I do. Is there any question about it?” You look down on him, worry in your gaze. “Oh, baby.” He’s quick to prop himself up on his hands, but still stays sprawled out atop you, his weight heavy and comforting. “I’ve loved you since I first saw you--” You open your mouth to tell him there’s no such thing as love at first sight, but his hand comes up quickly and covers your mouth, effectively shushing you. “--at least I knew I was going to love you the first time I saw you. I knew I was going to fall madly and deeply in love with all of your quirks and strange obsessions and deep passions and maddenly horrible humor. And I knew I loved you a year in, and every day after that.”

You look down on him, tears welling up in your eyes at his sincerity.

“Come ‘ere,” you say, pulling him up towards you. He crawls up your chest, playfully nipping at your bare breasts before settling against you. He kisses you. Lets you sink into the sensation. And then he pulls back and says,

“Aren’t you going to tell me you love me too?”

You don’t know if you’ll ever get enough of that dorky smile.

But you do know the tears threatening to spill over are rising from the deep, unnamable affection that rolls through your chest, finally released from silence. You want to call it love, and that is what you will call it, but there’s also something that goes so much deeper than the word itself. Something you know you will spend your whole life trying to explain to him.

read more: masterlist 

Taglist: @taestannie @thatlongspringnight @spicykoreantatertots​ @usuallynervoussheep​ @hesperantha​ @myimaginationsrunningwild​@lucedelsole97​ @heichooou​ @jiminskth​

[agustdakasuga]

Between The Bloodshed | Chapter 18

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

There are just too many things going on right now with a heavier workload and more responsibilities. But maybe now is the best time to address the emotions that seem to be running too high. 

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

Chapter warning(s): Mentions of glass injury, censored curse word by angry Yoongi, reader goes drinking so alcohol mention. 

With the birth of your new niece, you had been even more busy, if that was even possible. Unfortunately, Jisung wasn’t able to stay over anymore because you were worried about him knowing what the boys did as their ‘jobs’. 

“Koo, I know it hurts but you have to stop moving.” You scolded as you used your tweezers to remove the shards of glass from his knuckles. Jungkook whined as he winces in pain. You had to make sure you removed every little piece of he might get an infection. 

“I told you to stop being reckless.” You sighed, placing the pieces of glass onto the cotton pad. 

“I was careful...”

“You punched through a car window. I don’t know how careful that was.” You rolled your eyes. When you were sure all the glass pieces were out, you moved the magnifier lamp away and threw the glass away. 

“I wasn’t going to let him get away. So I punched through the window and pulled him out.” 

“Okay, you already know what is next. So take a deep breath.” You warned, getting the antiseptic spray ready. 

“Can we skip that?” He whined. 

“Can you not get so badly injured?” You retorted, making him pout. You shook the bottle and he took a deep breath, biting his bottom lip and scrunching his face to brace. 

“Okay, we’re done.” You cooed. Jungkook let out tiny whimpers like an injured puppy, his eyes glossing over. You patted his head, gently dabbing his wounds with a cotton. Once that was done, you wrapped his knuckles up, fastening them in place with some medical clips. Jungkook watched as you cleared up the messy area, disinfecting the table after. 

“How’s your niece?” 

“She’s doing good, both her and her mother are getting all the rest and care that they need. Her name is Yuri.” You said, scrolling on your phone to show Jungkook a picture. 

“She’s cute. She has the same eyes as Jisung.” Jungkook smiled. You laughed, nodding in agreement. 

“So... did you find someone to accompany you to the ball yet?” He asked, finger drawing imaginary shapes on your desk. 

“If you couldn’t tell, I’ve been rather busy the past few days. And unfortunately, finding a date for the ball is at the end of my priority list now.” You scoffed, typing on your computer. Jungkook just hummed. 

“Well, I was wondering if-”

BANG!

You turned your head to see Yoongi standing at your door. His shoulders rise and fell with each pant. A deep frown was on his face and even if it was anger, it was very rare to see Yoongi display such strong emotion. You weren’t scared but worried and curious. 

“Out.” Was all he said to Jungkook. Jungkook didn’t even bother arguing like he usually did, standing up and making a beeline for the door. 

“What’s wrong?” You stood up. Yoongi seemed to hesitate for a while, it was obvious he was having an internal debate with himself. He untucked a manila folder from under his arm. 

“Yoong-”

“Just read it.” He cut you off, sliding the folder across your desk to you. You gave him a look before undoing the string, looking at the contents. 

“What does all that mean?” He asked impatiently. 

“Yoongi, this-”

“Just tell me.” He pressed. 

“It’s cancer. That’s all I can tell you now.” You sighed, putting the summary report down. Yoongi seemed shock, walking back into the chair opposite yours. It was silent as you continued looking at the other reports and Yoongi let reality sink in. He stared ahead blankly but you knew Yoongi well enough that he didn’t want to be comforted right now. 

“What else?” He asked. 

“Yoongi, you can shout at me all you want. But I am not telling you anything else until you tell me who this report belongs to.” You said firmly. Yoongi glared at you but you weren’t backing down. 

“Half brother.” He mumbled. Considering Yoongi has never even mentioned any siblings before, you believe this half brother was estranged. 

“He won’t let me near him after what my dad did to his mother. Getting a copy of these reports was the only way to know what was really going on.” Yoongi explained briefly. 

“It’s non-small cell lung cancer, stage 3.” 

“What does that mean? Can he be cured? Whatever needs to be done, I’ll do it.” Yoongi said firmly. 

“At this point, it still seems regional, which means it is only affecting the tissues in the surrounding area. It hasn’t widespread yet. Surgery can be performed to remove the affected tissue followed by chemo or laser therapy to kill off any other affected cells.” You informed. 

“Can you do it?” This was Yoongi practically begging at this point. 

“Can I do it? Yes, I can. Will I do it? No, I won’t.” You said, placing all the medical documents back into a stack, putting it back into the original envelope that it came in. 

“WHY THE F*CK NOT?!” Yoongi stood up with so much force, his chair fell back, crashing onto the ground. 

“If you read the report, you would know that your brother’s cancer has only gotten to this stage because he refuses treatment of any kind. He refuses to take even one pill from his doctor. You force him to do such a big surgery he doesn’t want, any plans you had of making up for your broken sibling relationship will be gone.” You frowned. 

“Hyung...” The others appeared at the door. They had rushed over when they heard the crash. 

“When Min Geumjae comes to me on his own will and tells me he wants the surgery, I’ll do it. But until then, I refuse to even look at his file.” You pushed the manila envelope back to him. 

“Hyung.” Namjoon brought Yoongi out to cool down. You let out a sigh, shivering slightly as you turned your chair around, back facing the boys. 

“This is the last thing I need.” You rubbed your temples. 

“Hey, you alright?” Hoseok’s soft voice appeared on your side. You opened your eyes to meet his worried ones. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” You replied a little colder than you intended to, turning back to your computer. The boys cast each other uneasy looks before everyone was ushered out by Jin. Only Jimin remained behind. 

“Say, what are you doing tonight?” He asked, leaning against your desk. 

“Chim, I really don’t have the time for this. If you aren’t injured or need medical help, please go somewhere else. I have work to do.” You said, typing away the report that was on your screen. Even your big computer monitor looked like a mess with multiple windows everywhere. 

“Come out with me. Tonight.”

“Chim, I-”

“I’ll meet you at the foyer. 9pm.” He smiled sweetly before getting off your desk and walked out. You stared at your closed door before shaking your head and turning back to your work. 

It was close to 9 when you came down from your room. You didn’t know how to dress but if you were going out with Jimin, you knew you had to meet standards. 

“Where is he?” You checked the time on your phone. 

“Uh, going out...?” Namjoon saw you and immediately grew curious. You were in a short, black bodycon dress with a slit on your left thigh. 

“Yeah.” You nodded. Some others passed by and also couldn’t help but stare at you all dressed up. They loitered around, wanting to see if they could catch a glimpse of someone picking you up. 

“I’m here! Sorry for being late but we can do now.” Jimin came rushing down, adjusting his suit jacket. He was in a more casual suit than the usual business ones the boys wore, the red jacket and pants complimenting to loose, black undershirt nicely. The others that were there in the foyer were speechless with their eyes wide. Jimin was taking you out?!

“Let’s go.” Your words confirmed their suspicion. 

“You look nice.” Jimin complimented. You let out a hum, bending slightly to wear your shoes. 

“The driver is outside.” He held his arm out for you to take as you headed out the door. You failed the hear the scrambling of footsteps from the others, rushing to the window to see Jimin opening the door for you. 

“What?!” Taehyung screeched. 

“That hyung is good.” Jungkook shook his head. 

The car stopped in front of a building. The neon sign flashed ‘Filter’. You remember this as one of Jimin’s businesses. 

“Come.” The driver opened the door for the both of you. People who were either waiting to get in or entering stopped to stare at the both of you. The girls squealed at Jimin’s good looks but the boy only focused on you. He placed a hand on your waist. 

“Good evening, boss.” The bouncers bowed. 

“That’s the boss?” 

“He’s so good looking!” The people were whispering. When the bouncers opened the velvet rope, Jimin led you in. The staff must have known that Jimin was here because some guys immediately came to you to serve you. 

“I’ve got it, guys. Thanks. But she’s mine.” Jimin waved his boys away. You couldn’t help but heat up at his words. 

“Yes, boss. Have a nice evening.” They wished the both of you and bowed before leaving the both of you. You felt rather lost in this whole situation, you’ve never seen this side of Jimin before. 

“You look like a lost lamb.” Jimin chuckled. He continued to guide you to the elevated VIP platform. Your booth overlooked the other club goers. 

“What would you like to drink? It’s on the house. You can just sit back and relax.” Jimin asked as you sat down. 

“Well, if you say so, Mr Park. Then I’ll start with a red sangria, please.” You ordered with a chuckle. Jimin laughed along as he nodded and sat down beside you on the plush couch, pressing a button on the armrest. In a few seconds, a tall male in a suit came in. His name tag flashed ‘manager’. He bowed deeply to the both of you. 

“A red sangria for her and a beer for me to start.” Jimin ordered. 

“Yes, sir.” He bowed and left. 

“You know, I’m perfectly fine being with the normal people downstairs. I don’t need a VIP booth or any special treatment.” You said. 

“Nonsense. (y/n), don’t you realise? You’ll be granted entrance and a VIP booth to anywhere that you go. It doesn’t matter whether me or the other boys are there.” He raised an eyebrow. 

“What do you mean?” 

“That.” Jimin pointed. You followed his finger to your bracelet on your wrist. The very one that Namjoon gave you when you joined. 

“That bracelet is a symbol that you’re part of the family.” He said briefly. You looked at the bracelet. Even if it was dark, the pink diamond charm was shining brightly next to the wing charm. 

“Don’t take it off.”

You remember Taehyung’s words when he first put the bracelet around your wrist. The manager coming back in with your drinks broke your train of thought. Jimin handed you your drink and you clinked glasses together before taking a sip. You let out a relaxed sigh. 

“It’s good.” You smiled, swirling the drink in your glass. 

“I’m glad. Have as much as you like.” Jimin grinned as he sipped his own beer. He was just happy you were smiling again. 

“Jimin... You probably think I’m cruel, huh? For not helping Yoongi.” You guessed that Jimin knew the situation with Yoongi since he was one of the ones that was the closest to the elder. 

“Why would you think that?” 

“Do you know why I refuse to do the surgery?” You asked as you stared at the drink in your hand. Jimin shook his head. 

“Because, I’ve seen it all before. Families, relationships, torn apart... Because some people think what they’re doing is the best for the patient. But have they really asked the patient what they want? My parents were all for it. Doing big surgeries brought a lot of good image and reputation but I didn’t want to be part of that.” You confessed. 

“(y/n)...”

“That’s why I can’t do it. I’ve seen people bribe patients to do surgeries with such high risk just to give the press something to write about.” You said. 

“I know Yoongi only has good intentions. He only wants his brother to live. But at what cost? If his brother doesn’t want it, who are we to make that decision for him? We can’t just make him do it.” 

“I never realised...” Jimin said. 

“It’s just the way the world is. Why do you think I live through my parents’ snide remarks instead of giving in to work for them?” You chuckled bitterly. 

“A son of an old patient contacted me that day. His mother needs a heart valve replacement, which can be a rather risky surgery considering her age and it’s open heart surgery.” You started. 

“Is she going to do it?”

“She didn’t... That’s why her son wanted me to convince her. I told him I would look at the medical reports before speaking to her. In the end, I declined. Yes, cruelly, I’m letting someone die. But why am I trying so hard to convince someone to do something they don’t want to do?” You looked at him. 

“Of course, I know when people have a chance of living and yet, they refuse, it’s a shame. But I willingly live with that guilt and regret.” You threw your head back. Jimin wrapped an arm around you. 

“I hate seeing you upset.” He comforted. You closed your eyes, putting an arm around him. 

-

“Hehehe.” You giggled as Jimin carried you into the house. Maybe you had a bit too much to drink but you were very insistent that you were not drunk. The other boys came down. 

“Oh my... How did she get so drunk?” Jin’s eyes widened when he saw you. None of them have ever seen you in that state before. Seeing the other boys standing there, you blinked at them before grinning and waving at them. Namjoon was the first to take you from Jimin. He gave you an amused smile and you poked his dimple. 

“Cute.” You commented. 

“Let’s get you to bed.” Namjoon said softly. 

“But I’m not sleepy...” You mumbled, cuddling against his chest. Jungkook patted your head. 

“Hyung, can we talk?” Jimin asked Yoongi. Yoongi nodded his head wordlessly, walking with the shorter male out to the garden. Namjoon looked at the two before bringing you upstairs. 

“Who are you?” You tilted your head. 

“Namjoon, doc. Did you forget me already?” He chuckled.

“Doc... I’m a doctor?” Your eyes widened as you pointed at yourself. Namjoon hummed in reply with a nod, kicking your room door open. He placed you to sit on your bed. 

“Woah... I’m a doctor. That’s cool. And what about you, Mr Namjoon? Are you a doctor too?” You asked. 

“No, I’m not a doctor. Only you are a doctor.” He said, grabbing some makeup wipes and began to gently wipe the makeup off your face. You seemed so fascinated with the life you were learning about from Namjoon. 

“You’re really nice, Mr Namjoon.” You giggled. 

“Thank you. Now, doc, do you think you can change out of your dress and into these?” He asked, holding up a shirt and some shorts. You stared at the articles of clothing before nodding your head. Namjoon ushered you to your bathroom and closed the door, staying on the other side. 

“I’m done.” You said. Thankfully, you were able to successfully change. Namjoon tucked you into bed. 

“Goodnight, doc.” He wished. 

“No, Mr Namjoon, don’t goooooo.” You whined, holding onto his wrist. 

“Come on, doc. Be good, you have to sleep. We can hang out tomorrow.” He coaxed. You pouted with a frown, crossing your arms like a little kid throwing a tantrum. 

“Well, then what do you want to do?” 

“I don’t know... I want to stay with you.” You said sadly. Namjoon smiled endearingly, patting your head. He helped you out of bed and into his room. 

“You can stay here with me.” He got under the covered. You snuggled close to him as he leaned against the headboard, reading his book. Even if you weren’t doing anything, you were content. 

“Are you comfortable?” Namjoon asked. You nodded your head, yawning again. He reached over to pat your head.

“Mr Namjoon?” 

“Hmm?”

“Do you have a girlfriend? Or someone that you like?” 

“I don’t have a girlfriend... But there may be someone I fancy. Actually, doc-” When he heard no sound from you, he stopped. Looking down, Namjoon saw that you were fast asleep, tucked under his arm comfortably. Namjoon closed his book, putting it on the nightstand before turning off the lights. 

“She probably thinks I’m just like her parents. Or all those other people she hates.” Yoongi sighed, leaning against the railing of the gazebo. 

“She’s doesn’t, hyung. You know doc isn’t like that. She knows all you wanted to do was help your brother. None of us would know all this, she only told me tonight.” Jimin shrugged. 

“All I did was add to her stress.” 

“Hyung, stop. Doc always tells you about taking all the blame on yourself and how it’s a bad habit.” Jimin scolded, making Yoongi hang his head. 

“Well, she said that she won’t do the surgery already. So I guess there’s really nothing else I can do except speak to my brother to try and get him to do the surgery... Or just watch him die.” Yoongi said bitterly. Jimin knew Yoongi was just at lost and as painful as it sounded, those were really his only options. He wrapped his hands around the older.

“No matter what his decision is, I’m sure he would appreciate your support. It’s never too late to mend a broken relationship.” Jimin comforted. 

“That’s if he ever wants to see me again.” 

“You’ll never know, hyung. Maybe a serious, sit down conversation is all you need.” Jimin pulled away with a chuckle. Yoongi forced a small smile, nodding his head in agreement. 

“About doc, I’ll speak to her soon. Thanks for taking her out.” Yoongi patted Jimin’s shoulder.

“I didn’t do it for you.” 

“Huh?” 

“I didn’t do it as a favour for you. I did it because I hate seeing the woman I love upset.” Jimin said before turning around to talk back into the house. 

~~

Ko-fi link

Series Masterlist

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[bluewhale52]

Little Black Book: The One You Had a Crush On

Summary: There are a few names in your Little Black Book, and these seven hold a special place in your heart. Now that you are closing that chapter in your life, you reminisce the time and experience you have had with your seven favourite men, especially with Kim Taehyung, the one you had a crush on.

Pairing: Taehyung x female reader

Rating: EXPLICIT. No minors allowed.

Genre: nonidol!au, strangers to lovers, friends with benefit

WC: 6.4k

Warning: big dick Tae, oral (m & f), fingering, protected sex, ass slapping, hair pulling, a bit of exhibitionist kink, OC is greedy for Tae’s third leg, 69, facial, talk about threesome but no threesome act, a bit of begging, Grammy 2020 Tae for reference.

A/N: Cameo from the Wooga squad, though only Seojoon has speaking line in this one, we see Yoongi again briefly, mystery boyfriend finally makes an appearance (though we all know who he is by now). I can’t believe I wrote so much smut for Tae in this one. Hope you enjoy this chapter! And always, likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated! 💜

Series Masterlist:  Little Black Book

You should be embarrassed at how loud your stomach growled but you were too exhausted to care.  You murmured a ‘thank you’ as your order of Katsu Kimchi Nabe was placed on your table. You immediately dug in, closing your eyes in satisfaction at the first bite.

With your stomach in a better condition, you looked around. The small cramped space was half full, it was way past lunch time anyway. The little katsu place was a hole in the wall, but the food was homely and delicious. And its location, just a block away from your office, hidden in an alley, was perfect. It was a good getaway place when things got a bit too much.

Your eyes caught a couple of men sitting just next to your table. You noticed the EMS uniform first, and when your eyes travelled up to their faces, you had to look away. You had encountered handsome men- Seokjin for one, Hoseok another- but these two took your breath away.

Perhaps feeling your eyes on them, the one with the curly hair turned to you and smiled. “Came here often?” He asked.

His partner burst out laughing. “That is such a cheesy line. I apologise for him.”

Curly hair pouted playfully. “I’m just making conversations, hyung. And we all should come here often because the food is so good!”

You laughed and gestured to your meal. “It is good. Can never go wrong with this. Are you both paramedics?”

The two men smiled. “Yes,” curly haired answered, “we’re on our lunch break. And yourself? What do you do? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

You shook your head. “Not at all. I’m an attorney. My office is just around the block.” You took out your business card and handed it to Curly Hair. “In case you need legal advice.”

Curly Hair took your card. “Miss ______, very nice to meet you. I’m Kim Taehyung, and this is Park Seojoon.” Curly Hair- Taehyung-  looked playfully at you. “You know, you can just ask me for my number and I’ll gladly give it to you.”

You scoffed at his remark, and his partner chided him in mock annoyance. “You’re such a shameless flirt.”

Taehyung winked at you. “I’ll give you my card in return. Hang on.” He reached into his pocket and took out a scrap of paper. He scribbled on it and gave it to you.

“Wooga Band. Wednesday 7pm.” You raised an eyebrow at the name of the club and the address he had written underneath. It was a little bar near your university. You wondered if Taehyung was a fellow alumnus.

“That’s us. And a couple more of my hyungs. Come see us play.” Taehyung invited. “We play till 9, then maybe I can take you to my favorite katsu place.”

You snickered at his flirting. The older paramedic piped in, “We’re not that bad, seriously. Come check us out.”

You folded the piece of paper and slid it into a slot on your phone cover.  “Well, let’s hope work won’t hold me back from seeing you guys play.” You had checked your built-in calendar in your brain, you were free on Wednesday. But there was no need for them to know that.

The two men finished their meals and were preparing to leave. You looked questioningly at Taehyung.  “You’re not going to give me your number?”

He grinned. “Nope. Come see us on Wednesday and I’ll give it to you.”

~~~

You actually enjoyed Wooga Band’s performance. You were pleasantly surprised at Taehyung’s husky voice, and how well it fit the jazz melody. You also did not expect the effect his voice had on you. When you turned down his invitation for supper, he frowned a little. But he quickly brightened up when you offered a better alternative- his or your place.

“Let’s go to yours.” He chose. “I’m still off tomorrow but you have to work. I can just take a taxi home.”

You felt warm at his consideration. Even warmer when he stole kisses in the cab ride to your place. And more so when he cornered you in the elevator, his lips all over your jawline and his hands roaming across your middle. Arriving at your floor, you pulled him towards your apartment, and once inside, you slammed him against your door.

He moaned as you attacked his lips with yours, and pressing your body close to his, you felt his erection on your belly. Your hands went down to cup him, and he groaned into your mouth,

“So impatient, darling.” He tilted your head to gain access to your neck. You gasped when his tongue slid along your skin, but he was right, you were impatient. You knelt before him, your hands working to undo his pants, pulling them down, followed by his boxers.

You gulped when his cock sprung free. He was big and long, and your sex began throbbing at the sight. You tried wrapping your fingers around his shaft. Oh boy, you swallowed hard, you hoped you could wake up the next day.

You started with kisses on the head and along his length, then you gave shallow sucks, slowly but surely taking him in centimetre by centimetre. Your hand stroked the length that your mouth could not reach, with your saliva acting as a lubricant. You shifted on your knees, finding a more comfortable position, knowing you would need to take your time to take all of him in.

His fingers were in your hair, tugging and pulling it in sync with the groans escaping his mouth. You looked up at him as his cocked entered deeper and deeper, until it hit the back of your throat. You controlled your gag reflex, then prepared to pull out but his hand was holding your head in place.

“Can I fuck your mouth, darling?”

You nodded as much as you could. He moved lazily at first, but soon he got greedy. The grip in your hair was tighter, and you had to close your eyes when his hips picked up the pace. Your mouth ached, you were drooling all over the cock pistoning your mouth, but you felt delirious having given control to the man before you. Your pussy was leaking too, eager to be stretched.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” Taehyung fucked your throat faster. “Open your eyes, darling.”

You mewled around his cock as you forced yourself to look up at him. He cursed again, and slammed his hips forward one last time and made your mouth cockwarm him. You gargled around him, fighting the intrusion.

“Relax, darling. You can take it, can’t you?” You pressed your tongue up against his shaft. “Good girl.”

He let go of your hair, and his fingers gently caressed your cheeks. “Such a good girl for my cock.” You whined desperately.

Chuckling, he pulled himself out, and you panted for air. He helped you up, but as soon as you were on your feet, he turned you around so it was your back against the door. He hiked your skirt up and licked his lips at the sight of your thigh-high stockings.

“I want to eat you out, but I think I’ll explode if I don’t fuck you now.”

“Then fuck me.”

He chuckled. “You want me to fuck you here? Where your passing neighbors can hear?” He tugged your panties down, tutting at the arousal that had already pooled there. He brought the fabric to his mouth and sucked greedily. You keened at the sight.

He tossed your soiled underwear over his shoulder. “You taste so fucking good. And so fucking wet.” His fingers were prodding your pussy lips. Watching you, he inserted a finger in, and then another. Your eyes fluttered shut.

“Want your cock, Taehyung.”

“Gotta stretch you, darling.” He smiled as the pout on your face changed when he added a third finger.

You writhed your hips, wanting more. “Please, fuck me.”

He spread his fingers in you, wincing at how tight you were. He fingered you a bit more, then he pulled out, leaving you feeling empty.

“Tae…”

“Finger yourself, darling.” He instructed as he dug around the pocket of his pants for a condom. “Get yourself ready for me.” You did as he asked. Your two fingers felt like nothing compared to his thick long digits, and you made your complaint clear to him. He chuckled again as he rolled the rubber over himself. Then he grabbed your hand and brought your fingers to his mouth. Your breath hitched as he sucked them clean. 

“I’m going to eat you out before I leave.” He promised.

He turned you around, so you faced the door. When one of his large hands held your hip, you held your breath. You felt the head of his cock entering you, and it felt so tight already. You moaned out as the head was finally in, and you yelped when he thrusted himself into you without warning.

He rubbed your hips and your back, soothing you, giving you time to adjust. But goddamn- how could you adjust? You felt too full, you did not think you had ever been stretched this much before. You controlled your breathing, relaxing yourself and the pain quickly turned to pleasure. Your walls were not fighting the intrusion anymore, they were clenching almost rhythmically now around his cock. So you wiggled your hips, encouraging him to move.

He obliged immediately. He pulled himself out slowly, before ramming back into you hard. Your moans got louder  and your body was jerked forward with every thrust that soon your cheek was pressed against the door as Taehyung continued to fuck you hard.

“Come on, darling, you want your neighbours to hear, don’t you?” he egged you on, his hand travelled to the back of your neck. He fucked you harder now, holding your neck so you did not hit your face on the door. You mewled stupidly, and at a particular rough thrust, you screamed his name.

“That’s it. Let your neighbours know who’s fucking you.”

“Oh God, yes, Tae! Oh!” Your vocabulary was reduced to four words. He was going even faster and more roughly now, encouraging you to be louder too. Your thighs were starting to shake, and you tried to hold on to the door, your fingernails clawing at the laminated wood.

“Close, close…” you whimpered.

“I know darling, I can feel you tightening on me.” The fingers on your neck moved upwards to your hair. He yanked your head back, and his other hand smacked your ass again and again. You finally reached your peak. Screaming out his name, your body shook and you swore you saw white stars behind your closed lids.

Your pussy walls pulsated erratically around Taehyung’s cock, and he growled as he got nearer to his orgasm too. Once you had recovered from yours, you moved your hips backwards, meeting his halfway, and soon he came undone.You felt his cock twitch inside you, as he shot his seeds into the rubber. A few more sloppy thrusts followed, then he let go of your hair.

“Fuck, that was so hot.” He gasped. He pulled out gently, then took the condom off and tied it. He discarded it carelessly on the floor.

“God, I feel like such a groupie.” You felt like jelly splattered on the door.

He laughed as he helped you straighten up, massaging your hips and back gently. “Nah, you’re the first fan I fucked. You’re okay? I wasn’t too rough, was I?” He hugged you from behind.

You shook your head. “I’m OK. It was… hot. And really? You never hooked up with any of your fans?”

“Nope.” He rubbed your shoulders. “Just you. I like your vibe right from the beginning.”

“Wow, I’m so honoured. Though it is likely I’d have to move out after tonight.” You rested your head on his chest.

“Well, this place is a dump anyway.” You laughed at his comment, then squealed when he moved to carry you fireman style. “Where’s your bedroom? I promised to eat you out and I’d rather do it lying down.”

You did not think it possible, but your battered pussy instantly became wet again. He figured out anyway where your room was, and hurriedly took you there, leaving his and your clothes piled up by your apartment’s door.

~~~

You were entering dangerous territory. You did not like how you immediately smiled whenever you got a message from Taehyung, and how your smile widened when it was silly selcas he sent. You did not like how your heart beat faster when he said he wanted to meet up and how you took extra time choosing what to wear. The man was drop dead gorgeous and you were definitely flattered by the attention, but you were starting to feel this could very well become a one sided crush.

He never asked you out on a date. It was either ‘hey I just finished my shift, wanna hang out?’ or ‘Didn’t see you at the club tonight, are you free now?’. There were times you wished his questions were less of the Netflix-and-chill type. You supposed you could ask him out yourself, but you feared that possibility of rejection so much that you would rather settle for whatever it was you had with him. You could deal with it- it was simply controlling your emotions, and you could do that, you were trained to do that. You were safe as long as you did not let yourself lose control.

It was hard however, especially when he was cuddling you, with his lower half practically over your lap. It was one of the times when he wanted to just hangout, but you both knew where that would end up.

“You’re a clingy one, aren’t you?” You massaged Taehyung’s calves.

“Is it bad?” He settled himself further on your shoulder.

“No, just wondering how many other people you’re doing this with.”

He hummed. “I told you, it’s just you. I don’t do this with anyone else. I like spending time with you.”

“You mean you like having sex with me.”

“Well, the sex is great, but this is nice too.” He gestured at the TV and the snacks on the table.

“Because it always leads to sex.”

“Mind blowing sex.” He corrected.

There was no point torturing yourself, it was just sex. It was what you wanted, wasn’t it? Ms Workaholic Climbing up the Ladder had no time for relationships. That was your number one rule with your men, that was the very first thing you declared to them to avoid any misunderstanding. So, stick with it, you scolded yourself.

Taehyung frowned at your silence. “What’s wrong, darling?” He tilted your chin so you would face him.

You shook your head gently. “Nothing.” You whispered.

He nuzzled your neck. “Doesn’t sound like nothing.” You could not help yourself but shudder when his breath fanned against your sensitive spots.

“What do you want, darling?” He prodded.

I want a lot of things from you, you wanted to say, but instead, you simply answered, “I want you.”

“How do you want me?” His hand moved to cup your breast, thumb rubbing over your clothes until your nipple stiffened from his touch. You bit your lower lip to hold back your moan. “How does my darling girl like it?”

“Oh.” you gasped when his mouth tugged your earlobe, at the same time he pinched your nipple. He chuckled, the low voice sent shivers down your spine and straight to your pussy.

He pinched your nipple again as he peppered your jawline with little kisses. “You like this?”

“Yeah.” You breathed out. Your body had gone numb. His legs were still across your lap, pinning you down on your sofa, as his large hand pressed against your breast, holding your body under his control.

“Taehyung…” you called out to him, your legs squirming, your pussy desperate for some friction.

He lifted his head to look at you. “Fuck, you look so desperate.” He smiled. “You want more?”

You nodded. “Yes, Tae, please.” You mewled shamelessly.

He leaned towards your ear, kissing and licking your earlobe, making you writhe further. “I’m going to fuck you on this couch, darling. I’m going to fuck you so good you’re gonna beg to cum. Would you like that?”

“Yes, yes…” You were starting to blatantly grind your hips under his legs. He chuckled.

“You’re gonna take my cock good, darling?” He tugged your nipple.

“Yes,” you whimpered, “I want it, Tae. Please.”

He moved slightly away from you and you nearly protested, until he pulled your top off. He stared at your lace- clad breasts hungrily. Licking his lips, he cupped them both.

“Tae, please. I want you to fuck me.” You arched your back to push your tits against his hands.

“I will, darling. You gonna take everything I give you?”

His voice had gone down several octaves, the baritone went straight to your center. You spread your legs unconsciously, you were getting more and more desperate for him.

“Yes, I’ll take it, Tae. I’ll take it all.”

And you meant every single word.

~~~

You had thought a few times to invite Yoongi to see Taehyung and his band perform. You had little musical knowledge- you had been listening to the same bands for the last five years- but you figured it was no harm to get the Wooga Band some exposure. You were hoping the music producer would find them good enough; you wanted to give that little hope to Taehyung and his friends.

The only reason you had not invited Yoongi so far was because you didn’t know what to do with two fuck buddies in one place at the same time. You knew if you showed up at the jazz club, Taehyung would want to go back to your place. You and Yoongi both knew where you stood, so you did not need to worry about any jealousy from his side if you went with Taehyung. But it still would be weird, you would be introducing one to the other and you had no idea what to expect.

You actually took extra care in your appearance that night. You wore your courtroom suit to work (which prompted everyone in the office to wish you luck for your court case when actually you had none), your heels (which you regretted slightly because your feet were aching), and most importantly, thigh high stockings and lacy bra and panties set (which Taehyung LOVED). You sighed. You kept telling yourself you did not wear this for anyone, it was for you, the combination made you feel confident and sexy. But who were you kidding?

Yoongi ended up cancelling on you, to your relief. You could barely focus on anything else but Taehyung. Taehyung, who took the stage in a loose black and white print shirt with matching bandana, paired with tight black pants. Taehyung, who smiled and winked at you as he sang about two ships passing in the night. Taehyung, who rushed to you once his band was done, as if he had not seen you in ages. You breathed in as he hugged you, the smell of lavender combined with his musky natural scent invaded you.

And Taehyung continued to fill all your senses that night, as you were riding him vigorously while sucking on his fingers sloppily. His hips rose up to meet you on every thrust, sending his cock deeper and deeper into you.

“Fuck, darling.” He smiled teasingly. “Look how good you are sucking my fingers.”

You answered by moaning against his digits and clenching your cunt around him.

“Ah, that’s right, keep sucking, darling.”

You grabbed his wrist to keep his hand in place. You kept taking his long fingers in, bobbing your head back and forth, eager to have your mouth filled. Your saliva dripped to his hand and down your chin. He hissed at the sight of you drooling.

Your hips were starting to lose your rhythm. Your thighs were getting tired, but you were getting closer to orgasm too. Your free hand snaked down to rub your clit, but Taehyung pushed it away.

“You’re gonna cum on my mouth.” He declared, yanking his fingers out which made you moan wantonly at the sudden emptiness in your mouth.

“God, you really love being filled, don’t you?” He rose up to kiss you, thrusting his hips up, impaling you as deep as he could. You grabbed onto his shoulders as your pussy walls clenched wildly around his cock.

“Tae,” you panted, “fuck, you feel so good in me.”

“I love stretching you, darling.” He whispered, his hands wrapped around you and pulled you closer to him. “69 with me?”

You whined.

“Hmm? You don’t want to suck my cock, darling?”

“I do, but then I’ll feel so empty.”

“So whiny and so needy.” He slapped your ass. “I’ll put four fingers in you, don’t worry.”

He pulled out and discarded his condom, chuckling as you continued to pout, then positioned himself in the middle of your bed. You moved to hover over his face, and his large hands gripped your hips to pull you down to his mouth. You moaned loudly as you felt his tongue swept over your puffy lips. He growled as he continued to lick you, collecting your arousal with every swipe.

You leaned down to take his cock in. Despite having a regular hook up with him, you still had to really work to get his cock in your mouth. You wrapped your lips around his girth, your tongue pressing and flicking at the skin.

You felt the tip of his tongue poked into your hole then, stabbing into it, juicing you further. You moaned against his shaft, your saliva rolled down the length that you could not fit in your mouth (yet). Wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock, you squeezed lightly and started to stroke him. With more lubrication, and your mouth relaxing, you slowly took more in, until the head hit the back of your throat.

He rewarded you by pushing two fingers in. You moaned, and clenched when he added another finger. “You’re still so tight, what the fuck.” He mumbled against your cunt.

He pumped his fingers slowly, while his mouth focused on your clit. Everything in you tensed up as your sensitive nub was stimulated, but you forced your throat to stay relaxed. You knew if you could get more of him in your mouth, he would give you that fourth finger. You closed your eyes and inhaled sharply through your nose as you pushed yourself. You felt the head slid slightly further in, and you immediately controlled your gag reflex.

“Oh darling, you’re so good to me.” Taehyung’s mouth left your clit to praise you. “You’re so good.”

You tightened your lips around his shaft then slowly pulled out, your saliva leaving a glistening trail. His mouth was back to tease your clit as he inserted a fourth finger. You were so stretched at both ends, and it felt so, so delicious. His tongue was flicking your button furiously, encouraged by the shaking of your legs and your moans around his cock.

He growled when your fingers instinctively dug into the flesh of his thighs. “You’re clenching so tight baby.” He said between flicks. “Gonna cum on my fingers? While you suck my cock?”

You garbled a yes, which only sent more drool down to coat his testicles. It made him piston his fingers faster and more roughly and his tongue pressed harder against your clit. You could feel your juices flow more and more into his waiting mouth, the slurping sounds pushed you closer towards your bliss.

The string in your body finally snapped. You came, and you came hard, your pussy seized his fingers in a deadly grip, your eyes squeezed shut as your screams were muffled by his cock. He continued fucking you through your orgasm, and when he felt your body starting to relax, he pulled his fingers our of your cunt and his cock out of your mouth, then flipped you over to lie your back.

“Taehyung, what- ” you sounded your objection, but he quickly cut you off by inserting the same four fingers back into your sensitive hole. You arched your back, your hands moving down to weakly swat away his, but at the same time, you spread your legs wider to accommodate him.

“One more, darling, please.” He asked sweetly. “Wanna see your face when you cum.”

His body was hovering above yours, his eyes wild with lust. He pumped his fingers almost desperately, his palm rubbing over your hooded clit. Oversensitivity quickly gave way to pleasure again, and he leaned down, supported by his free hand, his curly hair swinging around his handsome face.

“Look at me, darling, open your eyes. That’s it.”

You forced yourself to keep your eyes on Taehyung’s, even when it was getting so fucking difficult to. The more he moved his palm and his fingers, the more your eyes lost their focus, and before you knew it, your whole body became taut, and this time, with no intrusion in your mouth, you screamed his name over and over as you felt your body exploding. Your hands reached out and gripped his hair as you came, and he hissed at the stinging pain on his roots. But his fingers did not stop, they kept going, until you loosened your hold on his locks and you opened your eyes.

“So fucking sexy, darling.” He praised you. “You look so damn sexy cumming for me.”

“Taehyung.” You weakly caressed his face. He turned his face so he could kiss your palm.

He then removed his fingers and brought it towards you to look. “So wet.” He spread his fingers lightly to show you the sticky sheen he had collected. He shuffled to get his knees on either side of your waist, his soaked digits wrapping around his still hard cock. You whimpered as you watched him stroke himself.

“Cum on my face, Tae.”

“Fuck, you sure?”

You looked him in the eyes and nodded. “Paint my face white.”

He growled again in that baritone voice of his, and jerked himself intensely. You eagerly waited for his seed spraying onto your face, your eyes flicking between his eyes and the head of his cock. Your pussy was still throbbing from your last orgasm, and you snaked your hand down to rub on your battered clit.

Taehyung saw your hand move to the spot between your legs. “Gonna cum again, darling?”

You could only nod, as your mind went hazy one more time. You felt your thighs and your lower abdomen tensing up, and you rubbed your clit in tight circles, urging yourself to come for the third time that night. You ignored the oversensitivity, you knew it would soon go away. And you were right, before long, your body started shaking again. Keeping your eyes on him, you welcomed another orgasm, albeit weaker than before. You heard him curse, then you felt a splatter of warm liquid hitting your cheek. You quickly opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, hungry for a taste of him. You kept your finger pressed on your clit as he decorated your face with his cum.

You closed your mouth, swallowing the cum that had made it there, and you licked around your lips for more. He squeezed the last drop of cum out of his cock, then collapsing next to you. You lay side by side, recovering from your intense session.

After a few minutes, he got up from the bed, murmuring that he needed to clean you up. You grunted your response inelegantly, and he chuckled. Coming back with a wet towel, he started to gently wipe your face, then your sex, taking extra care knowing how sore you were. Then he plopped back down next to you.

You liked this best, when he turned to you to lay his head on your chest, his long arm and leg sprawled over your body. He was such a cuddler. You absentmindedly played with his hair, while his thumb rubbed circles on your ribs. You took a deep breath. You savoured moments like this with him, the intimacy allowed you to stupidly hope even though you knew it was useless. But you’d take it. This was good enough.

“That wasn’t too dirty, was it?” He asked.

You frowned at his question. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I think it was the wildest sex we’ve had, but, I don’t know,” he shrugged, “I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

You cooed at his attention. “Tae, I enjoyed every second of it.”

He looked up at you, eyes twinkling. “You were so hot, you know. And loud.”

You laughed. “You have that effect on me.” He smiled, then put his head back on your chest.

“Can I ask you something?” Taehyung moved to lie on his side, facing you. You turned to look at him. “When, uh, when you rode me and sucked my fingers, did you like it?”

You giggled nervously. “Um…” you felt your cheeks blush, “yeah, it was a big turn on? I just like how you made me feel full. At both ends.”

He hummed. “And when we 69? Like when I fingered you and you were sucking me.”

You nodded. “Yeah, it was fucking hot.”

He nodded at your answer. He looked away then back at you. He opened his mouth to ask the next question, only to quickly shut it before he could get a word out.

“Is everything okay?” You prodded.

He cleared his throat. “Well,” he started, “I really don’t know how to say this.”

“Just say it then.”

“Don’t get mad at me, okay?” He swallowed when you looked at him curiously. “Uh… would you be interested in a threesome? Maybe?”

“Excuse me?” Your eyebrows shot up.

“You don’t have to answer!” He said hurriedly. “It just came across my mind, and I was just curious, and if you feel uncomfortable answering, you don’t have to say anything. God, just forget I ask!” He rolled onto his back and covered his face with his arm.

You stared at him. He wanted to have a threesome with you? Did you want to have a threesome with him? “Tae, have you ever had a threesome before?”

“Uh, yeah, once in university.” He was still covering his face.

“With a girl and another guy or with two girls?”

“A girl and another guy. The girl was someone I knew who wanted to try it. The guy was my best friend in university, well he’s still my best friend now.”

“Okay, so that threesome you asked,” You couldn’t believe you were having this conversation with your crush. “if I said yes, who would it be with?”

“Uh, I’d ask my best friend.” He answered sheepishly. “I mean, I trust him, you know? With my life. I know he would be discreet and respectful, he would treat your right, and he would never ever breathe a word about it to anyone ever, and-“

“Why do you want to have a threesome with me?” you interrupted him.

“Because,” he took a deep breath, “the way you looked and sounded just now, fuck, it was just so insanely sexy! And I- for some reason- kept seeing you with another cock rather than my fingers. Fuck, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

You thought about what he said. Riding Taehyung while having another cock in your mouth. Sucking Taehyung while another cock pounded your pussy. Your body felt hot, you could not even tell if it was from embarrassment or arousal, until you pressed your legs together. Yup, it was arousal.

“Taehyung,” you pulled his arms away. He glanced at you. “I want to. Let’s do it.”

He sat up, shocked. “Fuck, really? You don’t think I’m a pervert?”

You laughed as you sat up too. “Yes, really. And no, I don’t.  Like I said, I like feeling full. From both ends.” You were sure your cheeks were red as a beet as you convinced him. You were sure, 100% sure. You wanted to experience this with Taehyung. Fuck, you had made a sex tape with Yoongi, you definitely could do a threesome with Taehyung. Yes, you wanted this.

“Wow. I hated myself for asking you, but now I’m super… excited.” You glanced down at his member. Oh he was excited, all right.

You scooted closer to him, maybe you both could have one more go before he had to leave. “So, who is this best friend?” You asked, rubbing his pecs.

“Actually, you may know him. He’s an attorney too.” He pulled you onto his lap. “His name is Park Jimin.”

You felt blood draining from your body. 

FUCK.

~~~

Today

The band finishes their last song, and as last applause dies down, you turn to your friend. “So, what do you think? They’re good, right?”

“Hmm. They’re not bad.”

“You like them!” You clap. “I’m a pretty good talent scout, aren’t I?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Don’t give up your day job.”

You scrunch your face at him then grab his hand. “Come, I’ll introduce you to them.”

You pull Yoongi closer to the stage, then wave energetically at Taehyung, who is helping out his hyungs clearing their instruments. His eyes widen when he sees you, mouth breaking into that boxy smile you’re so fond of.

“Hey! Long time no see!” He hops off the stage and rushes to hug you. “How are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good. Oh it’s so good to see you.” You give him one last squeeze before letting him go. “Tae, this is Min Yoongi, a music producer.”

Taehyung’s jaw drops. “Oh my god. Min Yoongi. THE music producer.”

Yoongi rubs his neck uneasily.

“He’s shy.” You wink at Taehyung as his band mates join him. You make the introduction all over again, and laugh cheekily at Yoongi’s increasing discomfort as the band members fanboy over him. Seojoon, the oldest member of the band, shepherds the whole group to a table, where he promptly orders drinks for everyone.

Soon, Yoongi and the band get into a deep conversation about music, and you sit back, watching them while you nurse your beer. You love watching Yoongi in his element, his passion shines through, just like your boyfriend does when he talks about poetry and arts. You are about to text him, to update him on Yoongi’s positive reaction to the Wooga Band, when Taehyung slides to sit next to you.

“I can’t believe Min Yoongi is here. And he actually likes our stuff.” He whispers excitedly, as if saying it any louder would make Yoongi disappear into thin air.

You giggle. “Of course he likes your stuff. You guys are seriously good.”

Taehyung rubs his face. “Best day ever.” He exhales slowly, then turns to look at you, to really look at you. “How have you been?”

“I’m good.”

“Good.” He clears his throat. “I haven’t seen you much since…. well since that night, so I was worried…”

“I told you I was busy.”

“Yeah I know, I know.” He sighs wistfully. “Still, I was worried.”

“Taehyung, that night,” you lower your voice, “is one of the best nights of my life.”

He smiles smugly as he leans in. “It is pretty mind blowing for me too.”

“Honestly, I was extremely nervous about it, but once we started, oh my god, Tae, it was so fucking hot. I still think about it a lot.”

Taehyung smirks. “Don’t you have a boyfriend now? Should you not be this obvious about that night?” He teases.

You take a swig off your beer. “Well, he doesn’t need to know everything I did in the past, does he?”

You both giggle giddily. God, you really miss him.

“So, we’re good?” He asks.

“Of course, we always are.” You clink your beer with his cola, your crush long forgotten but your friendship remains intact. “Wooga Band is getting more fans, I see.” You look around to see a considerably larger crowd than when you first saw them play many months ago.

“Yeah, it’s great. The club keeps asking us to play more nights, you know.“

“Wow, that is amazing! Once you record a song with Yoongi, you’ll be a household name!”

Taehyung waves your comment away shyly. “Ah, we’ll see. It’s nice to think that, but… we’ll see.”

You hum. “Are you still working as a paramedic?”

He nods. “Yeah, but this month would be my last.” He chuckles at your shocked expression. “I’m going back to get my Master’s. I want to be a counselor.”

“Taehyung, that’s wonderful! I’m so happy to hear that.” You truly are happy for him. He has mentioned before that he wanted to do more to help people. You hug him. “You will make such amazing difference in people’s lives.”

He hugs you back then lets you go. “You’ve always been my biggest cheerleader. Thank you.”

You look at him fondly, then hug him again. “I’ll always support you, Tae.”

Your boyfriend joins you later that night, work having kept him longer than usual. You introduce him to Taehyung and the band (he has met Yoongi before), and you wonder at Taehyung’s tone towards your boyfriend when the former says, “Good to know she’s in good hands.”

You don’t spend too much time pondering that, however, as your boyfriend pulls you to the side, a little away from the group so he can kiss you properly. You smile at him lovingly, content to be in his embrace.

“Yoongi seems to like Taehyung and his band a lot.” He comments.

You nod as you snuggle him. “I bet he already has a song in mind for them.”

Another band is on the stage, playing something sensual. The alcohol you have consumed, combined with your conversation with Taehyung about THAT night, is stirring something inside you. You wrap your arms tighter around your boyfriend’s middle, resting your head on his chest. You swear his pecs get bigger after every trip to the gym.

“You’re clingy tonight.” He teases. You look up at him and pout. He smiles before leaning down to kiss you.

“Daddy,” you call him sweetly.

“See, clingy.” He kisses the tip of your nose.

“Daddy,” you whisper, “would you ever want to do a threesome?”

A/N : Tada! I hope you enjoy reading this, and have I teased you enough about the Jimin chapter?? :D

Published on 06052021

[fadedseas]

inconsistent flowers: part v

Druig x Makkari

Part 5 of __: hyacinths

Tags: Flower Shop AU, Modern AU, No Powers, Canon Divergence

Summary: Druig is a cantankerous flower shop owner trying to get through his day. Makkari just wanted flowers for her new apartment. Or the flower shop AU no one asked for.

Chapter Summary: Those had been the early days, of course. The days before her mother signed her up for local marathons and running clubs, before she had actually started performing well, before the local papers began to run her name as frequently as the latest reality star disaster, before Thena had scouted her from one of her races. 

or Makkari remembers.

TW: cursing; traumatic injury

Word count: 3762

A/N: Hello readers!! It's feels amazing to post again! This chapter took a while because a bunch of life stuff happened, and it was just particularly hard for me to figure out a way to tell Makkari's story. It was just one of those chapters that I had to write slowly, piece by piece. But hopefully, you'll enjoy a deep dive into Makkari's head!

Makkari could remember when running was as familiar as breathing.

Footsteps on leaf-strewn ground, breaking through the morning fog, back straight and the sweet scent of the broadleaf forest easing the tightness in her lungs. She could close her eyes and remember it all. Sometimes, if she thought hard enough, she could smell her mother’s homemade samoon with strawberry jam that was always waiting for her after her morning runs.

Those had been the early days, of course. The days before her mother signed her up for local marathons and running clubs, before she had actually started performing well, before the local papers began to run her name as frequently as the latest reality star disaster, before Thena had scouted her from one of her races.

“You were holding back.”

Makkari quickly wiped her mouth from her long pull of her water bottle, trying not to wince at the taste of the salt tablet she had dropped inside. She raised an eyebrow at the tall, elegant woman in front of her that had just signed to her in perfect BSL.

“What are you talking about?” She signed. She really wasn’t in the mood to speak to any local reporters. She already had to do her cool-off exercises and then, she was looking forward to a night with her mum on the couch watching terrible reality television.

“You’re a sprinter. You use every ounce of muscle and energy to get over that finish line. Nothing should be in reserve. But you didn’t. You’re still standing. I’ve seen runners nearly cough up their lungs after a race. You finished second - why?”

Makkari shrugged, throwing on her windbreaker, “I don’t know. Suppose it just wasn’t my day.”

The woman stared at her with her unnaturally pale eyes. It made Makkari want to fidget but she held herself still. She didn’t know who this woman was yet, but she already knew that now was not the time to show discomfort.

“What do you want to do with this?”

“What do you mean?"

“I mean - is this merely a hobby for you? A way to pass the time? How much do you love running? Are you willing to dedicate your life to it? I’ve seen runners with natural talent like yours that allow it to ebb away. You’re bored - I can see that. It’s difficult to give it all when there’s seemingly no point. So, I’ll ask again - what do you want to do with this?”

Makkari straightened, “That depends…what can you do for me?”

The woman smiled at her, and Makkari got the feeling that she had somehow impressed her. “I’m Thena Eliot, and I’m interested in taking you on as my student.”

Makkari knew that name vaguely. It had been recited with reverence by Team GB’s former Olympic stars, been mired with admiration by sports commentators, been written in high esteem by nationwide papers. Thena Eliot. Creator of Olympics Legends. She had always lived out of the public eye, not bothering to do any interviews or television appearances. And now she was standing here, in front of Makkari.

“Why aren’t you asking Anna?” Makkari signed quickly, referring to the first place winner.

Thena smiled, “Anna is currently coughing her lungs out. You aren’t,” she signed simply.

Thena had introduced her to another level of athletics that she had never realized she was capable of. Everything in her life suddenly narrowed down to lists of numbers: records of her times for her dashes, calories eaten at every meal, practices times before the sunrise and long after its fall. Her life became a regimented routine to be strictly followed if she even had a prayer of competing at the top.

But at the same time, she could feel herself grow stronger. Her muscles were leaner and stronger. The restless twitching she felt during the day was directed entirely into her running. She became faster. Better.

Makkari realized that running wasn’t just a hobby to her; it never was. But it was no longer about local races now or winning against her schoolmates. Now, she had something she was running towards. Now it wasn’t just her innate talent that was pulling her through. It was Thena’s cool analytical assessments that translated to firm direction that she signed to Makkari at the end of all of their practices.

And it was Makkari herself.

Her skill. Her power. It was an exhilarating feeling on the track, to feel the movement of her limbs as she felt like she could outrun anything. As she began to win bigger and bigger races, it became something that she had finally allowed herself to want. Badly.

Bigger races also mean that people begin to take notice. It’s a sweet human interest story, Makkari supposed, of the nice, middle-class deaf girl that was bound for the Olympics. Thena had encouraged the attention and morning news appearances, it never hurts to have supporters on your side going into the qualifiers, she had signed.

The qualifiers…afterwards, she had looked it up on the internet. It was something that just happened sometimes, especially to competitive runners. She could barely remember what happened other than the feeling of her ankle suddenly giving out. The slam of the ground against her body. And then pain. Piercing through her consciousness until it was the only thing she could be aware of. She opened her mouth in a silent scream as her chest heaved with her inability to breathe.

Warm hands gently grabbed her and supported her weight as she was half dragged and half lifted off of the field. She could vaguely remember seeing Thena’s stoic calmness and her mother’s horrified expression as they ran behind her. She could barely discern where she was going due to the frequent flashes of cameras pressing in on her at all sides, all eager to rip off a piece of her shattered dreams. Falling into unconscious darkness after that was a blessing.

Makkari winced as the intense fluorescents pierced her vision. She gasped as memories of the race - the fall - she still needed to finish it. Makkari jerked upright, ripping the blanket off of her body before a cool hand caught her arm.

“Calm down,” Thena signed, pressing her gently back into bed.

“What about the qualifiers? I still need to -”

“The qualifiers are over, khoshgelam,” her mother signed, and smoothed down her hair as she bent over on the other side of her bed, “you fell. You’re in hospital - but you’re alright.”

“No - no, I need to - I need to -” Makkari glanced around, coherent thought crumbling into panic. She tried to swing her legs over the end and gasped in pain.

“You need to lay back down before you pull out your IV,” Thena signed firmly, staring at her with unnaturally pale eyes that held a startlingly blankness.

“What happened?”

“You fell, and you tore your ACL and your meniscus. Your doctor is going to be here shortly; but she wants to recommend reconstruction surgery. Do you understand, Makkari? There’s nothing to do at this moment. It’s done.”

Makkari’s head spun. She was trembling too hard to even sign as she tried to connect loose memories of the event together. She had grown used to the feeling of knowing her body, being precise with each of her movements and steps - but she had never felt more out of control. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her mother press a button.

“Just rest,” her mother signed, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Makkari wanted to scream, and writhe and do anything to leave this hospital bed where she felt so completely helpless and stranded in this sea of ignorance and pity. The question rolled around in her head as she gave into the sinking darkness: what am I now? What am I now?

Makkari turned around in bed, huffing in the darkness of her bedroom. It had been a while since she had felt that panic like a black, writhing mess that tumbled to her throat, threatening to choke her. Her mother had put Makkari in therapy soon after the fall. Makkari closed her eyes and tried to remember what Dr. Martin had told her.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold.

You’re safe.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold.

Nothing is going to hurt you.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold.

She could sense a difference in light that made her open her eyes. Sersi had poked her head in, studying her with a concerned, furrowed brow.

Are you ok? She circled her thumb in front of her.

No. Makkari’s expression fell, tears welling in her eyes.

Sersi rushed into the room, Did he hurt you? She ended her sentence, pointing at Makkari fiercely.

No. Makkari signed again, There was a man…taking photos.

She didn’t need to say anymore. Sersi knew it all. Makkari had accidently hit her in the head with a spade in primary school during a gardening excursion, and Sersi had been there ever since: through her training, through the fall and the subsequent panic attacks and days in which Makkari failed to leave her bed, through her surgery to repair her ACL and the painful physical therapy afterwards, through the swaths of reporters and crowds that wanted a glimpse of the fallen Olympic star. She knew it all.

Sersi’s expression softened. She didn’t say another word. She just proceeded to climb over Makkari in her bed, shifting to make herself comfortable as Makkari nestled against her. Makkari closed her eyes, letting Sersi’s warmth comfort her. She remembered Druig’s arms around her earlier that night and the safety she felt as the humming in her muscles and head quieted finally. But the security in Sersi’s embrace was a different one - one built on years of sisterhood, but just as safe.

So how did the impromptu date go otherwise? Sersi lifted her hands to sign.

It was…good, then great…then disastrous.

Real Hemingway here - sparing us the word count.

Despite the dread that still lingered, Makkari laughed. No, excluding the end of it, it was all…so…beautifully real. Druig was just - her fingers faltered as she remembered their interactions during their date and the striking vulnerability he had exhibited before their kiss. He’s more than what he seems. More than what he thinks he is.

So are you. Sersi signed.

Makkari huffed in discomfort, the sound seemingly echoing in the quiet.

Are you really going to stop running? Sersi asked.

Makkari shifted herself up against her headboard, I’m running now.

Sersi pulled herself up to meet Makkari’s gaze. Not like you used to. You used to live and breathe to run, Makkari. You’ve been running your entire life, how long are you going to force yourself to stand still?

Makkari grimaced at the memory of her first run post-physical therapy. The paralyzing fear every time she set her foot down on the pavement. She had moved from the speed of light to a comparatively slow crawl. A traumatic stress reaction, her therapist had called it.

Makkari shrugged, Maybe there’s room for something new now. She grinned, Like studying old artifacts and creepy crawly things in the dark, She twirled her index finger, poking it threateningly in Sersi’s direction.

Sersi rolled her eyes, playfully smacking Makkari’s hand away, Or hot flower shop owners?

It was Makkari’s turn to roll her eyes as she slid down her headboard, extremely aware that she likely looked like a petulant child.

Sersi chuckled at her before her face settled. I'm glad that there’s room for new things, but you don’t have to stop loving the old things either.

Makkari nodded pensively until Sersi’s expression turned mischievous.

So…were his lips petal-soft? She aggressively fluttered her eyelashes.

Makkari cackled, Jesus Sersi - when did you turn into such a cheeseball?

C’mon! Studying dead animals and plants can get so boring! Give me something!

Makkari giggled, He had nice…biceps. She shrugged, lowering her hand from her arm. She hadn’t allowed herself to reflect on the date until now, when the adrenaline had worn off and she had a minute to relax. We had fish and chips. Walked by the river. It was… Makkari suppressed a grin at the memory of the kiss.

A chippy on a first date? You’re a cheap date, Makkari.

Makkari snorted. Despite herself, she couldn’t help her smile.

*

Druig hadn’t seen Makkari for a week.

It wasn’t the longest Druig had gone without seeing her. But her absence was frighteningly noticeable to him.

It hadn’t taken him long to fend off the annoying drunk. After a perfunctuory, fuck off asshole, and another shove to his shoulder, the man had lowered his phone with a disappointed grimace and scuttered off.

Druig had stared after him for a moment, enduring that he was truly gone. He turned around, with questions on his lips that transitioned to curses when he noticed that she was gone. He had wandered around the area for a few hours afterwards, worried that she had gotten sick somewhere or that something horrible had happened to her. It wasn’t until he felt a buzz in his pocket that he silently cursed himself for not thinking of texting her sooner.

Ironically it was Makkari’s message that alerted him: Home safe. I’m sorry.

He had seen the video. He had searched it up in an act of desperate confusion before he went to bed that night. It was both horrifyingly beautiful and painful to watch. Makkari’s fluid sprint with her dark hair against the red of the track grounds was poetry in motion. And then the stumble - and then the fall - He felt himself wince as the blur of red slammed into the floor, her inertia tumbling her forward.

“Oh and the Female Flash has fallen,” the annoying voice of the sports announcer blared from his phone, documenting Makkari’s misery, “she’s currently lying on the track right now - grabbing her ankle - it looks like she’s in quite a lot of pain. I’ll remind you lot at home that Makkari Khari was a favorite to go on to the Olympics, rising from humble beginnings. But from the looks of it, her dreams are not in jeopardy. What a shame.”

He watched her crumpled form try to stand with the assistance of two other people, her face twisted in agony. He watched the defeated slump on her shoulders as she limped off the track and into the depths of the stadium.

Druig had never felt his heart break for another until that very moment.

Kingo had noticed the Druig’s recent quietness that week, finally cornering him in the backroom. He parted the sea of purple hyacinth blooms that Druig was holding to reveal his face. Druig’s face blanched when he saw Kingo.

“What happened?”

“That’s what I wanted to know. Your crabby pouts has reached critical levels,” Kingo narrowed his eyes and poked Druig’s left cheek, “it’s like working with Grumpy Cat, but human.”

Druig rolled his eyes, “Well right now, I’m worried about these hyacinths for Mrs. Grady’s order.”

“Ok so I know you’ve got the whole ‘strong but silent’ type thing going on - but I’d like to think of us as friends. And as your friend and employee, I’m somewhat invested in your emotional wellbeing. So what is it? Is it Ms. Track Star? She hasn’t been in for a while.”

“So you know?”

“The internet is a wonderful invention, Druig. So what is it? Are you not into jocks?” Kingo straightened, “If this is about her accident -”

“Yes - no -” Druig sighed and put the flowers down on a wooden bench nearby, “...the way I feel about Makkari - I just don’t know what to do or say - I’m pretty shit at this. I want to text her, but I delete my messages before I send them - and I - I just want her to be ok,” he finished lamely.

Kingo studied the discomfort on Druig’s face. God, Druig was so lucky that he was here to help. “That’s not something to be embarrassed about. You wouldn’t be reacting like this if you didn’t care about her so much. Lean into the discomfort, my friend. She might just need some time. Sometimes, you don’t even need to say anything at all.”

Druig ran his hand through his hair, nodding.

“Look, at the end of the day - you like her, she seems to like you. Blah, blah, blah - true love conquers all and all that.”

Druig snorted, “Thanks Kingo. I appreciate…your words of wisdom…but you’re still closing today.”

“Always so unappreciated,” Kingo sighed, “But I’m certain we’ll see her soon -” The bell at the store door cut off his sentence, “Twenty quid if that’s her.”

Druig chuckled, “I’ll do two weeks of closing if it’s her.”

“Deal.”

Druig shook his head, picking up the vase of hyacinths. He strolled outside to the front counter. And froze.

Kingo chuckled behind him, “Good luck with those closings.”

Hi! Do you have some time to talk? Makkari uncrossed her wrists, and looked at him hesitantly.

“I can take care of things around here, Boss.” Kingo slapped a hand on Druig’s shoulder.

“Thanks Kingo,” Druig replied. There’s a coffee shop across the street that we can go to, He signed to Makkari.

The short walk to the shop was quiet. He ordered his black coffee and Makkari got a small tea. They sat at a small table that was still slightly sticky with the remnants of someone’s raspberry danish.

Makkari pulled out her phone and began to type, First, I am so so sorry for leaving you like that last week. It was horrible and rude, and definitely not how I pictured our night ending.

Druig shook his head, “There’s nothing to apologize for, Makkari. I’m just glad you made it home safe.”

Still, I shouldn’t have left you. 

Druig shrugged, “I don’t blame you. That guy was a complete twat.”

She chuckled, Well forgive me. For myself if nothing else. 

“How can I resist that? You’re forgiven…for your non-offense.” 

Makkari smiled softly at him, Thank you , she signed. Their eyes met for a moment until she broke away. I’m assuming you know about my fall - you’ve probably seen the footage.

Druig nodded. There was no point in lying to her, and he found that didn’t want to.

I tore my ACL and my meniscus. Had to get reconstructive surgery and go through months of physical therapy afterwards - honestly, that may have felt like more pain and work than training for the Olympics, she swallowed and kept typing, I wasn’t…a great person after that. I was just so sad…and mostly angry all the time. Mum didn’t know what to do. Neither did Phastos or Sersi. I didn’t know either. It was my entire life. They told me I’d probably never be able to run competitively again, not at the level that I was previously.

She wiped her eyes quickly, and Druig took the time to reach forward, over the sticky raspberry residue, and grasp her hand, squeezing it. Makkari looked up at him, and gave him a watery smile. It was gone. All that time, and money, and potential was gone. And then there’s just me left.

“Not the worst thing in the world.”

Makkari laughed quietly, Yea, it took me a while to realize that. She sipped her tea, I moved to London because I just needed a place to figure out what that meant - to just be me. Without the press, or the looks or the disappointment. I hadn’t been anything but the deaf Olympian or the ‘Female Flash’ for a while, she snorted, I absolutely hated that name.

She sighed, glancing at him, I’m still running - or at least trying to. I was considering signing up for the London Marathon in October. But I’ll probably never race again. But now you know it all. I’m just some washed up athlete trying not to flounder under the weight of my own failures.

Druig frowned, “Makkari…I didn’t know who you were then, but you’ve made an entire life for yourself here. I don’t know many people who have the strength to start over like you did. That isn’t nothing. That’s…incredible.” And so are you, he wanted to say.

There was a quiet awe in Druig as he listened to Makkari. Seeing her life’s dreams ripped away so cruelly just to be able to crawl her way back onto her own two feet - literally and metaphorically. He was reminded of a cheesy American saying that he had heard once during an American football game: down never means out. He found it particularly fitting in this situation.

Makkari ducked her head, Thank you, Druig. It means a lot to me that you would say that.

There was a pause in the conversation, as they both processed what they had said. Makkari began typing again, Well, I’ve mucked up our first date. How about a second one to make up for it? Do you want to do dinner at my place? I make a mean penne vodka.

Druig chuckled, “No need to break your back on my account Makkari.” He cleared his throat, “Besides, I was going to ask you out to another dinner regardless.”

Makkari beamed, Well, I guess I beat you to it.

They sat there at the small rickety table with raspberry smear for a little while longer, sipping at their drinks and watching the mist condense into a light drizzle. Makkari’s hand stayed in Druig’s the entire time.

Kingo was right. Sometimes you don’t need to say anything at all.

iv. sunflowers

vi. sunflowers part ii

__________________

A/N: All last names are taken from their aliases from the comics! Also, I wanted to feature Makkari's relationships outside of Druig, particularly with Sersi because I think female friendships are extremely important and valuable and often written most of the time. 

Keep an eye out for more fluff! I want to give these two turkeys more relationship scenes and let it build before more hardcore plot stuff happens!  

Purple hyacinth is the flower most commonly used to symbolize regret: 

As always, let me know what you think!

Please DM/comment if you’d like to be added to the taglist for inconsistent flowers!

Links

masterlist

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Taglist

@wooya1224

@wanda-my-beloved​

[jessikahathaway]

Vegas, Baby - Part II

Pairing: Kim Taehyung X Reader

Genre: Mafia!AU, Accidental Marriage!AU

Warnings: Explicit Language

Words: 3.6 k

Here's the next part of Vegas, Baby guys! Hope everyone is staying safe and healthy out there! Love you!

You all rolled up into the club at around 9:00, ready to start drinking and getting a good buzz on before going to dance.

The second you hit the club, you felt a thrill rushing through your veins.

“Alright Y/N, start scoping them out,” Jessi said with a smile.

“They aren’t pieces of meat Jessi!” Lily reminded.

“Sorry sorry,” she apologized.

Heading towards the bar you found yourself with Jessi and Lily at your sides, leading the group. You realized you were in charge tonight. This was about you. Lifting your head a little higher you smiled as you all sat down at the bar. The tender was cute, but working and you didn’t want to bother him with your drunken antics.

“Alright Y/N, you’ve already got four men interested,” Jessi whispered, ordering a drink from the bartender.

“What?” you asked, moving to turn around when Lily pinched your hip. “Ow!”

“Don’t look, keep your air of mystery going. And you’ve just arrived, plenty of time to dance and see who you feel good with,” Lily reminded.

“Right, okay,” you said, ordering a drink from the bar as well.

You spent about half an hour trying to calm your racing heart, by dousing it in alcohol. But Jessi put an end to that rather quickly.

“Don’t drink too much or you’re definitely not going out of our sight tonight,” she warned.

“Sorry,” you said, ordering a glass of water to chill the buzz that was starting to fog up your head.

“I think it’s time for a dance,” Lily said after you had finished your water.

“Yeah, I feel like moving,” you said, hopping down from the stool carefully.

That’s when you saw him.

He was blending in with the crowd easily, but when you looked at his face, you knew he was different than everyone in this building. For one, he was gorgeous. A sculpted jawline that could cut marble. Dark eyes that made heat swirl in your stomach and long curly hair that looked perfect to tug on.

He was dressed in probably the most expensive clothes you’ve ever seen. Even though it was a simple white dress shirt tucked into some nice black dress pants, you saw the jewelry he wore blinking in the light. No doubt it was costly. One of his rings must’ve cost more than the dress you were wearing, easily.

But that didn’t stop the swirl of desire rushing through your veins.

“I think she found someone,” Jessi said, smile evident in her voice.

“Who-oh... Wow...” Lily trailed off, looking at him as well.

“What do you think Y/N? Wanna approach him?” Jessi asked.

“I-I don’t know,” you breathed.

As if sensing someone was looking at him, he turned away from the guy he was talking to and looked dead at you. It made your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. But, you managed a small smile at him, tucking your hair behind your ear.

Your awkward attempt at flirting from across the room seemed to work, cause a smile was returned.

“Oh my God!” Jessi yelped.

“He’s interested,” Lily confirmed.

“Come on Y/N, let’s go dance. He’s interested, he’ll come talk to you. But don’t make a move just yet,” Jessi said softly, pulling you toward the dance floor.

Getting in between the sweaty bodies made you a little uncomfortable, but the liquid courage in your veins made everything much easier. Jessi moved your body with hers, having you mimic her motions.

Soon there were plenty of men approaching, trying to get the chance to dance with you. But Jessi and Lily were quick to distract them with themselves. After what felt like an eternity, the man you saw earlier was making his way to the dance floor. Your heart sped in your chest, making you feel weak. But soon, the man was a few feet from you.

“Excuse me,” he said, his deep baritone vocals seeping into your bones.

“Yes?” you asked, looking at him with a shy expression.

“Care to dance?” he asked, holding his hand out to you.

Taking it shortly thereafter you were pulled into his frame. The scent of sandalwood and musk over took you, making your head spin pleasantly. The pair of you moved together tentatively, not quite familiar but not uncomfortably. A different song came on and the man before you took it upon himself to turn your body so your back was facing his front. Wrapping his arms around your waist he rested his head along the crook of your neck.

“I dare say, you are the most beautiful girl out here tonight,” he say, breathing onto your exposed skin.

“Thank you, you look amazing too,” you mentioned, feeling his cool rings against your bare skin from the cutouts in your dress.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Y/N,” you answered.

“Y/N,” he repeated, letting the feeling of your name sit on his tongue.

“What’s your name?” you asked back.

“Vante,” he said quietly. You nodded, already knowing this wasn’t his real name. Maybe you shouldn’t have given him yours, but, it was too late to take it back now.

“So, what brought you here?” he asked, swinging his body to the beat and moving your body with his.

“My friends,” you said, trying to keep your mind level.

“Yeah? They brought you out? You’re not from around here are you,” he asked.

“What makes you say that?” you asked.

“This is my club, and I’ve never seen you here before. I’d certainly remember.”

You could feel his smile against your skin, and it made your heart jump into your throat. But, unlike with most men, you didn’t feel like he was playing with you, or trying to just get the small talk out of the way to get to the main event.

He felt... Genuine.

“I lost my job back home, and decided that a week in Vegas is what I needed before I move back in with my parents,” you admitted.

“I’m sorry to hear that you lost your job,” he said.

“Eh, it was a pretty basic office job, so I’m not too heartbroken over it,” you told him honestly.

“Well, I’m glad it brought you here,” he said, the smile never leaving his face.

“Me too,” you said quietly.

“How long are you in Vegas for?” he asked.

“A week, this is my first night,” you answered.

“I see, that isn’t very long,” he said, sounding almost disappointed.

“No, I wish I could stay longer,” you said.

“I’m sure your friends do too,” Vante stated.

The song ended and another one picked right up where it left off, but Vante moved away from your body and turned you around.

“I’ll tell the bartender that your tab is on the house. You and your friends, it was nice talking to you, I hope I see you again,” Vante said before moving to walk away.

“Wait!” you said.

Jessi would’ve slapped you for this.

“Did you want to... Get out of here, with me?” you asked, wincing as the words came out of your mouth.

“Well, as tempting as an offer that is. And believe me, it is extremely tempting, I’m afraid I have to decline. I have work to do tonight, but I wanted to stop by the club to see how everyone was doing before I headed out. But, enjoy the rest of your night Y/N,” he said. With that he stalked off towards the bar, leaving you in the middle of the floor alone.

“What the fuck,” Jessi said, coming up behind you.

“Did he just leave you here?” Lily asked, already looking like she was ready to fight.

“Don’t Lily,” you said, already feeling your blood beginning to cool.

“What do you mean? That dick just played you!”

As much as you wanted to agree with her and be mad, you couldn’t. Cause you didn’t see it that way. When Vante spoke, he seemed as though he was being authentic with you. You believed the only thing he lied about, was his name.

“Come on guys, I don’t want to dwell on it. Let’s get some more drinks,” you suggested heading towards the bar.

You sat down and the bartender smiled at you brightly.

“Mr. Vante says that you ladies have a free tab tonight! Enjoy! Everything is on the house,” he smiled.

“What?” Jessi said, turning to look at you.

“Oh yeah... He said that he owns this club,” you winced.

“And he gave you a free tab for the night?” Lily asked.

“Yeah...?” you said, confused.

“Oh babe, this isn’t over then,” Jessi confirmed.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“If he gave you a free tab, it means he wants you to come back! We’ll have to come back again!” Jessi said, drinking her screwdriver happily.

“I guess,” you said, already looking forward to the idea of seeing him again.

--

It was your last night in Vegas when you went back to Vante’s club. Dressed in Jessi’s red silk dress that cut off right in the middle of your thighs. She said she wanted to pay homage to your pop of color the first night you and Vante met. It would help you stand out more.

You were talking to the bartender, who’s name you found out to be Tyler. He was super nice and really chill, already getting you the drink you favored most the previous night.

“Thanks,” you smiled, taking a sip already.

“So, let’s see if he’s here tonight,” Jessi said, looking over the crowd with her razor sharp gaze.

The three of you started drinking and before you knew it you were tipsy.

Not to the point where you didn’t know what you were doing, but it was enough to get you feeling light.

Then, like a ghost, Vante appeared from the back. He looked just as good as he did the first day. Sharp, crisp and clean clothes adorned him. He appeared like a magazine model has come to life off the page.

His eyes met yours and a warm rush of heat flooded your system. He smiled and kept his eyes trained on you, coming forward through the swarm of people that separated you. Jessi and Lily instinctively left to go dance at that moment.

“Have fun,” Jessi whispered.

“Be safe,” Lily said, before following.

Vante approached you and placed a hand on the stool facing you.

“I thought I scared you off,” he said, looking at the liquor behind the bar.

“I don’t scare easy,” you said smiling.

“I’m glad, I was worried I wasn’t going to see you again before you left,” he said, pointing at the vodka bottle and getting it handed to him shortly thereafter. Shot glasses were placed on the counter next to the two of you and then Tyler was gone again.

“Unfortunately it’s my last night here, I have a flight tomorrow at 4:00,” you said to him.

“That is unfortunate,” Vante agreed.

“But that doesn’t mean I can’t have fun,” you offered.

“You’re right about that,” he said, pouring two shots.

“No work to do tonight?” you asked, hinting to when he turned you down.

“Fortunately for me I don’t,” he smiled, pushing a shot glass towards you.

He took his shot first. Shortly after you took yours. The burn traced your throat, filling your body with warmth. Vante poured another for himself, and took it, licking his lips at the end. Clearing his throat he looked to you.

“So, last night in Vegas, what are your plans?” he asked.

“I don’t really have any,” you said lamely, hoping he didn’t leave.

“Ah, so you’re free?” he said with another shot being pushed your way.

You took it and tossed it down, coughing lightly after.

“I am,” you said.

“That is nice to hear,” he said, taking his third shot in ten minutes.

Placing your hand on his wrist, you stopped him from pouring another one.

“Something wrong?” he asked, looking down at the alcohol then back to you.

“I-I uh...”

In all honesty you didn’t want him to get too drunk, it was nice just talking to him like this.

“Rough day for me, I’m afraid. Hence the eagerness to hit the booze,” he smiled sadly, as if it really pained him to admit it.

“I’m sorry, do you want to talk about it?” you asked, looking at him in concern.

“No, no that’s okay. Thank you for the offer though, that’s incredibly sweet,” he nodded.

“Well, if you ever are feeling in a sharing mood, maybe I can give you my number?” you asked. It was a long shot, because you were leaving tomorrow, but the idea of never speaking to him again made your heart sink into your stomach.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” he smiled.

He handed you his phone and you plugged the number in, putting your name in at the top. Then, he held his hand out for yours, which you gave him.

“Are you going to put your real name in there?” you asked, suddenly unable to filter your words.

Vante just smirked.

“Very perceptive, knowing I didn’t give you my real name,” he said as he plugged in ‘Vante’ as the contact name.

“So that’s a no,” you said, taking your phone back and putting it in your purse.

“Don’t sound so disappointed. There’s a lot of power in names, you know,” he said.

“I guess,” you pouted.

“Don’t look so down,” he smiled, coming over to wrap his arms around your shoulder.

“I think I need another drink,” you confessed, waving Tyler down.

“The usual?” he asked, and you nodded.

“Mr. Vante? What would you like?” he asked.

“A manhattan, strong, with bourbon instead of whisky,” he ordered.

“Very good, I’ll be right back,” he said.

The two of you kept drinking and talking, exchanging pleasantries. But Vante seemed to dig into you, while you barely scraped the surface of him. And the problem was, the more you drank, the more your mind was swirling with the thought of him. His face and eyes boring into your flesh.

The last thing you remember before everything goes black are those beautifully sad eyes.

--

You woke up with a pounding headache. But the plushness of the pillows made up for the severe ache in your head. Cracking your eyes open you saw the light coming in through the window.

That’s when you realized.

You weren’t with Jessi and Lily...

Bolting up in bed you looked around. You were still in your clothes, thank God. But, where were you?

Looking in the bed next to you, you saw someone else sleeping. Still fully clothed as well. Your heart eased a little, until you figured out who it was.

It was Vante. Vante was sleeping next to you.

Had you slept with him last night?

You were still clothed, but that didn’t mean anything. Suddenly, a wave of nausea came over you, making you rush to the bathroom to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet.

Rinsing your mouth out you heard shuffling in the other room.

Peaking your head out the door you saw Vante sitting up and examining the area just as you had done. Did he not remember anything either?

You walked into the room and saw Vante’s look of confusion turn to concern.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you answered.

“This isn’t the time to joke around Y/N, do you remember anything?” he asked.

“No, I don’t, the last thing I remember was sitting in the club with you,” you said.

He sighed and ruffled his hair. You couldn’t help but feel a little thrill at his attitude and morning voice. But, you weren’t here to be yelled at.

“Vante what’s going on?” you asked.

“I don’t know, I drank too much,” he groaned, laying down on the bed and looking up at the ceiling.

“We didn’t drink that much, did we?” you asked, not really talking to Vante.

“I’m not sure, but my tolerance is pretty high. I shouldn’t have blacked out,” he said, concern lacing his features.

“Jessi, Lily!” you shrieked, shuffling through your purse that was unceremoniously thrown on the floor until you found your phone.

43 missed calls

76 messages

“Oh I’m so fucked,” you groaned. Then you looked at the time. And you screamed.

Vante jumped in the corner at the sound and you bolted up right and looked at the clock in the room. It wasn’t wrong.

4:38 pm.

“Shit! Shit shit shit!’ you cried.

“What?!” Vante yelled back.

“I missed my flight! And I don’t have the money to get back now,” you whimpered, already feeling tears welling up in your eyes.

“Hey don’t cry,” Vante said, coming over and trying to calm you down.

But in the process of bringing your hand to your eyes to wipe them, you saw a glint in the light. Looking closer you noticed a simple, silver band over your finger.

“What the-”

“Oh fuck,” Vante said, looking down at your purse.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

Without a word, he reached down and pulled out the piece of paper that was shoved inside.

Unfolding it and smoothing the wrinkles out, Vante held the piece of paper over you.

Squinting in the light you looked at the top.

Marriage License

“Oh fuck,” you whsipered. “What are we gonna do?” you asked.

“Well-I... I’m not too sure,” he whispered, rubbing his chin.

“I gotta call my parents,” you said, reaching to call them when Vante took your phone out of your hand.

“No, don’t,” he said.

“What do you mean? They’re expecting me to be on a plane back home!” you said.

“Y/N, we’re in big trouble. I don’t think you realize that,” he said.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I haven’t been completely transparent with you,” he sighed, rubbing his face.

“What do you mean Vante?” you asked.

“Firstly, my name isn’t Vante. It’s Taehyung,” he started.

“Taehyung,” you said softly.

“And I’m not some regular club owner,” he said.

“Okay...?”

“I’m a... a part of the Korean Mafia,” he whispered.

Panic surged through your body.

“Don’t fuck with me right now Vante-Taehyung!”

“I’m not fucking with you Y/N, I’m being deathly serious,” he said, voice chilling your skin.

“Okay, alright. Say you are a member of the Korean Mafia, what does that mean? Are you going to kill me?” You asked, fear trickling down your spine at the thought.

“No! No no, I’m not gonna hurt you. You’re legally my wife for christ sake,” he said.

“Then what’s the issue? We just get an annulment in a couple days and then we’re free. Issue solved. I can stay with Jessi and Lily until my parents can get me back home,” you said, already formulating a plan in your head.

“No, that’s not gonna happen,” he said quietly.

“What do you mean that’s not gonna happen?” you asked, shocked.

“You can’t just get an annulment with me,” he said, looking at the ground.

“Excuse me?” you asked, stunned at his words.

“If you leave me, it’ll make me look weak. And, you’re at risk of being hurt by stray members of the mafia. There are rivals who will use you to try to get to me now. Even if we aren’t married. You’re safest at my side for now,” Taehyung said, looking out the window.

“So, you’re saying my life is at risk because of this?” you asked, looking down at the marriage license with a sour taste in your mouth.

“Yes, unfortunately that’s the truth. You’re a part of this now, whether we like it or not,” he announced.

“Taehyung, what am I going to do? I can’t go back home and bring this to my parents, Jessi and Lily will murder me if I tell them. What do I do?!” you shrieked.

He whirled around and placed his hands on your shoulders.

“What we’re not gonna do is panic. That’s the last thing we need, so what we’re going to do is play the role. We got married on purpose, a secret ceremony. My parents aren’t going to like this either. But, we’ve been dating for a while, just not publicly. We were so madly in love that we couldn’t help but get married,” he said.

“What are you talking about!? I can’t just tell my parents that I got married in Vegas. I can’t tell Lily and Jessi that I got married to you last night! What can I do Taehyung? This is all such a huge mess,” you whimpered, breaking down into tears.

“Please don’t cry,” he said, kneeling down beside you.

“I can’t help it, I’m so overwhelmed.”

He sighed and rubbed your back until you calmed down a little. And then he spoke again.

“You’re telling your parents that you got a job opportunity here in the states and are staying here with Jessi and Lily. They won’t think twice about it. As for Jessi and Lily, we’re going to have to tell them the truth,” he said.

“We? You plan on explaining to my two best friends that I got hitched in Vegas drunk off my ass to a mafia member?” you exclaimed.

“If that’s what it takes, then yes,” he said.

“Jesus Taehyung do you hear yourself? I barely know you!”

“I know, I know, but I need you to trust me. Just trust me. I can offer you a life of comfort, your family will be safe and want for nothing. You just can’t leave me,” he said.

“Taehyung,” you said, still very uncertain.

“I promise you, I’m not lying. I give you my word,” he said, placing his hand over his heart. You saw his ring glinting in the light and you sighed.

“Fine. But I gotta talk to Jessi and Lily. Soon,” you said firmly.

“I’ll take you,” he said, already grabbing his keys from his pockets.

“Okay,” you sighed, looking down at your purse.

God, what had you done?

[pinkczennie]

Strip Tease | Ten (m)

Requested by: @unknown5tar​ (Thank you for being patient with me and ngl I was really nervous while writing this because I really hope you like this! I couldn’t help but add some smut cuz ya kno LOL and I’m such a sucker for enemies/friends to lovers au) 

Summary: Ten is a fucking tease.

Pairings: best friend!Ten x female reader

Genre: best friends to lovers!au, suggestive, smut

Word Count: 8.1k

Warnings: a tiny bit of angst (breakup), sexually explicit content, mature language 

You and Ten first met at the start of university. You were both dance majors, so you would often see each other in class and on campus in the same department buildings. You had a lot in common with Ten, such as a similar sense of humor, being excellent dancers, and an appreciation for art. Along the way, the friendship gradually went from just friends to best friends, developing into a teasing friendship that was borderline flirting, but it was always just playful. 

Once you both graduated university, you both applied to work at the same dance studio and got hired to teach classes there together. Ten teaches b-boying and you teach hip hop. By day, you and Ten were both dance instructors at a dance studio. By night, you were both dancers at a popular club. 

The club was widely known for their good-looking waiters and talented dancers. Ten was one of the very few male dancers at the club so he garnered many female customers and even some male customers. He even has some regulars that would come every so often on a weekend night to see Ten dance because the male would occasionally come up with choreographies to make his performances more different and unique. 

His performances were quite a sight, to say the least. On Halloween night, he dressed up as a devil and danced, what he calls his piece, “devils”, where he bent his body backwards in a demonic way that left the audience gasping. He sure knew how to move his body in ways unimaginable. His stunning visuals adds to it as well because many have tried to hit on him before. 

One night, as you both are heading to the club, Ten informs you that has a new choreographed performance that he is going to unveil tonight, so you tell him that you’ll be in the audience watching. That night, instead of sitting in the waiting room with the other dancers like you usually do, you sat towards the front of the stage, so you got front row seats to see Ten’s new piece. 

The audience erupted into loud cheers when the DJ announced that Ten will be the next performer.

Loud upbeat R&B music began blasting on the stereos and bright colorful LED lights flash the room as Ten’s figure suddenly emerges from the red, silk curtains and all the female customers began to cheer loudly. He was wearing a black leather jacket that was zipped up all the way, along with matching black jeans and a belt. 

Ten makes his way to the center and sways his body to the music. Nobody knew what to expect from the dancer’s performance today, so your eyes widen when you see him start to slowly unbuckle his belt with one hand. He takes his time removing the belt from his waist before tossing it to the sidelines once it’s off. 

Next, he unzips his leather jacket at a snail’s pace to reveal that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath the jacket and practically everyone’s jaw drops. After teasing the audience with parts of his exposed skin, he begins to sensually take off the jacket at a teasingly slow pace. The jacket begins to slip from his shoulders and then his biceps. Once it’s completely off his body, he spots you in the front row of the stage and discards his jacket by throwing it into your hands, knowing you’ll keep it safe for him. You see the flying jacket coming your way and you quickly catch it with both hands. 

The audience hollers and whistles at the dancer’s exposed upper body. He was toned and there was body oil rubbed all over his stomach, accentuating the lines of his abs. 

Ten lays on his back against the floor and thrusts up into the air, causing the audience to roar and paper bills come flying his way on stage. He slides against the floor on his knees and picks up the money, bringing the bills in between his fingers and stuffing it into his jean pockets.

Once the song is over, the dancer sends a wink to the audience and all the women swoon. You included. 

You were honestly really surprised by his performance, in a good way. Your mouth was hanging open during the entire performance, but your lips were sticking up into a smile because that was absolutely amazing. You’ve seen the way Ten moves, but you’ve never seen him do that before.

Once the song is over, the lights dim down and the stage becomes dark. You quickly rush back to the dancer’s waiting room, where Ten probably left to once his performance was over. You barge open the door and look around and spot Ten by the corner taking out all the money from his pockets that he received during the performance and putting it into his wallet. It’s thick with cash.

“Holy shit. That performance was incredible, Ten!” you praise as you make your way over to Ten. 

“Go on,” he encourages, basing in the glory of your praise. “I know, it was amazing.”

“The thing you did with your belt and jacket-”

He chuckles, “It’s called strip teasing. I was working on it in private for a few days.”

“You have to teach me how to strip tease!” you excitedly say while handing his jacket back to him. “Maybe I could use it for one of my performances too.”

Ten takes his jacket back. “Sure, I’ll teach you on our day off.”

“You’re the best,” you say as you link arms with him.

Once all the performances were over, it was time for the club to close for the night, or day since they opened until 4 in the morning, so after cleaning up the place, you and Ten both headed home together.

You and Ten were living together and rented a place that was relatively close to both the workplaces so it would be an easier commute. Plus, it was nice getting to live with a good friend. Ten even adopted two cats, named Louis and Leon, which you did not oppose because it was nice to have pets in the house. 

The next day, you both didn’t have any work so it was a good time for Ten to teach you how to strip tease. You sport some comfortable dance wear like a loose, cropped t-shirt and shorts while Ten is in a sleeveless shirt and sweatpants. The living room couches are pushed back and the coffee table is temporarily moved to the kitchen so there was enough dance space. 

“Strip teasing is pretty easy, to be honest. All you have to do is slowly undress in a sexy way,” Ten states. “Let’s start off doing something simple and easy. Can you go grab a jacket of yours and put it on?”

You nod and rush off to your room to retrieve a jacket as instructed.

While you left to do as told, Ten searches on his Spotify for some fitting music and starts to play some upbeat R&B music from his playlist to set the mood. After setting it to the highest volume level, he takes a seat on the couch with the phone placed to his side and gets comfortable on the furniture. 

Soon, you emerge from your room with a light blue denim jean jacket on. 

“First, you want to start off with a sexy dance,” Ten instructs. “Just feel yourself with the music.”

You nod and, thankfully, it was a song you frequently listen to, so it was pretty easy to think of a simple choreography for it on the spot. You throw in some body rolls and slowly run your hands down your body from your chest to your waist down to your ass as you sway your hips, all while keeping eye contact with Ten. 

You and Ten are both comfortable with each other so it’s not awkward to make eye contact like that. Besides, it’s good practice to get rid of shyness since you’re both dancers so facial expression is very important.  

“Yes! Look at you feeling yourself like that,” Ten compliments with a proud smile to hype you up. 

You get a little bold as you do a slut drop, where you squat down quickly and immediately pop back up, when the beat drops, throw your ass back, twerk, and even strut over to Ten to take a seat on his lap while your legs rest bent on the sofa. 

He looks up at you with a raised eyebrow and one side of his lips curled up to a smirk while you smile innocently at him. 

“What’s next?” you innocently ask.  

“Next, slowly take off your jacket,” Ten replies, emphasizing the word ‘slowly’.

You take hold of your jacket and begin to strip it off of your body at a snail’s pace, revealing your shoulders and then your arms. Once the jacket is off of your body, you discard it to the other side of the couch. 

“How was that?” you ask.

“Very sexy,” Ten praises with a nod. “Especially when you sat on my lap like that.”

“What can I say? I have a great teacher,” you compliment back. 

“I know. I’m amazing,” he boasts and you playfully slap his arm for letting your compliment feed his ego. Ten winces from the hit but laughs and wraps his arms around your waist. “But you already got the basics of how to strip tease down. We can watch some tutorials from other professional dancers that I used for reference if you want.” 

“Sure,” you nod.

“Alright, now get off of my lap.” Ten playfully smacks your butt and you giggle as you remove yourself from his lap.

Ten gets up from the couch and walks into his room to retrieve his laptop.

As you wait for him, you check on your phone to see you received a notification. It was a text message from your boyfriend.

Boyfriend: I miss you. Are you free today for dinner and movies at my place?

You smile widely as you rapidly type a reply back to him. 

You: Of course! I’m in the middle of something right now and I’ll need to change and get ready afterwards so give me a couple of hours? 

Boyfriend: Sure thing! Can’t wait to see you later <3 

You: I’ll text you when I’m on my way! See you in a bit <3

“Hey, can we end this in an hour or so?” you ask Ten when he emerges from his room with a laptop tucked in his arm.

“Sure. Did something come up?” 

“Yeah, I’m going to see Taeyong in a bit,” you reply as you continue to text Taeyong. 

You and Taeyong first met at a party during your last year in university and took an interest in each other. After exchanging numbers, chatting over the phone, and a few dates, you and Taeyong have been together for almost a year now. 

“Oh, I see,” Ten nods as he sits on the couch, opening his laptop to pull up the reference videos he bookmarked.  

After watching a few videos on Ten’s laptop for references on how to strip tease by other dancers, you decided it was enough for the day. You changed clothes, texted Taeyong that you are on your way, and headed out to his place. You knock on his apartment door when you arrive and wait for a few seconds before you hear footsteps approaching the door. Taeyong opens the door and smiles upon seeing your face.

“Hey, babe,” he greets, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Hi, bubu,” you smile with your arms wrapped around his neck. 

“Hungry? I already ordered the pizza for us. I got us your favorite toppings.”

“Yes! You’re the best,” you say and plant a kiss on his cheek.

Taeyong guides you inside his place and the pizza is already set up on the coffee table along with a movie ready on the television screen. 

After devouring the pizza, you and Taeyong continued to watch the remainder of the movie. Some time during the movie, one thing leads to another and next thing you know, the movie is long forgotten about as you fall onto Taeyong’s bed with his lips on yours and his body on top of yours. Your hands are wrapped around his neck to pull him in closer while his hands roam around your waist.  

As you continue to kiss, an idea pops into your head when you feel Taeyong’s fingers wrapped around your shirt, trying to strip you of your clothing but you remove his hands from your shirt. Taeyong removes himself from your lips, worried because of your actions, but you shush him by switching the positions so Taeyong is now laying on the bed and you are hovering over him instead. The movie begins to play sensual music in the background, which was a perfect chance for you to slowly remove your own shirt, teasing your boyfriend with only peaks of your skin.

Taeyong can feel his dick, still in his boxers, slowly harden as he watches you give him a show. Once your shirt is off and tossed to the other side of the bed, Taeyong marvels at your lacy, pink bra.

“Wow, you look so hot doing that. Who taught you how to strip tease like that?” Taeyong smirks as he stares lustfully at your half naked body.

“Ten taught me.” You reply as you bring your hands behind your back to begin unhooking your bra.

“Wait- Ten?” Taeyong’s eyebrows knit together. 

You suddenly stop your actions and your smile slowly drops when you notice the shift in the atmosphere. Taeyong almost seemed...upset at the fact that Ten was the one who taught you how to strip tease.

“Yeah. Why? Is something wrong?” You get off from his body and sit to the side of his bed.

Taeyong sighs, avoiding eye contact with you. He always suspected that there was something going on between you two, but he took your word for it when you said Ten was just a good friend. Taeyong trusts you, he really does, so he tried not to show his jealousy. However, he was always worried knowing that you two live together and how close you two were, so this new fact caused him to snap.

“Y/n, what would you do if I asked you to stop being friends with Ten?”

Your eyes widen at Taeyong’s question. “Taeyong...I can’t just stop being friends with Ten. He’s my best friend.”

“You can’t or you won’t?” Taeyong fires back.

You pause. 

Ten is your best friend, so to suddenly be asked to end your friendship with him for your significant other was so shocking that you were left speechless. You really did not want to lose Ten, so who should you choose? You don’t know because you don’t want to make the wrong decision.

Taeyong sighs at your silence. “Y/n...I think we should break up.”

Your eyes widen and you feel your heart drop as you stare at your boyfriend in shock. 

“I’m really sorry, y/n. I love you, I really do. But...I don’t think I can be with someone who has another man in her heart. You two are too close for comfort and I can’t help but think that there’s something going between you two, especially since you can’t-or won't- stop being friends with him for me,” Taeyong explains.

You didn’t respond back because you were at a loss for words. Is it really that wrong for a woman to have a comfortable friendship with another man that isn’t her significant other?

After redressing in awkward silence, you trudge back home, feeling numb from the breakup and your brain keeps repeating Taeyong’s words. 

When you arrived home and opened the door, Ten was there in the living room, laying on the couch while scrolling through his phone. He looks up to see you staring at him in silence by the door and immediately jumps up from the couch to approach you when he notices the tears on your face as you stare at him with wet eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice laced with concern as he cups your face and gently wipes away your tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. “Why are you crying?”

You wanted to just push Taeyong’s words aside for the night because all you wanted was someone to comfort you right now, so you wrap your arms around Ten’s body and shove your face into his neck.

“Taeyong broke up with me,” you confess.

“What?” You hear him shout, a vibration ringing through his chest. “Why?”

“I-I don’t want to talk about it right now. Can you just...please hold me?” you plead with a cracked voice.

“Of course. I got you,” Ten says as he brings you into a tighter embrace. 

You’ll tell him what happened once you’re ready. 

That night, Ten laid in your bed beside you with a thick blanket thrown over your bodies for warmth while you quietly sob your eyes out. He strokes comforting circles on your back. 

Eventually, you stop crying as tiredness overtakes your body. You glance up to see that Ten’s eyes were closed and his movements have stopped, meaning he probably fell asleep without you noticing. It was pretty late right now, considering it felt like hours since you were crying, so you don’t blame him for drifting off to sleep. 

Taeyong’s words today kept ringing in your head as you continue to stare at Ten’s facial features, like the mole under his left eye and then his long eyelashes. You must admit that Ten is a very attractive person, but who wouldn’t think that?

Taeyong is right about being very close because you and Ten are practically cuddling on your bed. 

You bring Ten into a tight embrace and fall asleep with your limbs wrapped around his body and your face tucked into his chest. You’re glad you still have him by your side. 

The next morning, you woke up with swollen eyes from all the crying last night and Ten was no longer by your side in bed. The smell of food and a sizzling sound lingers in the air, which you assume means that he probably woke up before you did to cook breakfast. 

You lightly trudge your feet to the kitchen, the sound of your slippers sliding against the hardwood floor echoing in the hallway. You see Ten in a yellow apron scooping the cooked food from the pan onto two plates with a spatula.

“Morning,” Ten greets with a smile when he spots your awakened figure. “I woke up earlier to make us some breakfast before we go to work later. Come sit down and eat with me.”

You walk into the kitchen and take a seat on the kitchen counter right in front of the plate that Ten just loaded with food. 

Your heart softens. Despite being your sassy best friend, he knew when to be sweet and thoughtful whenever you were having a bad day. 

“Are you okay to go to work today or do you want to call in sick to have the day off?” Ten worriedly asks.

You shake your head. “I’m okay. I can go to work today.” 

Besides, it was better to distract your mind temporarily with work instead of staying home and wallowing in sorrow. You pick up your fork and start to dig into the breakfast Ten prepared for you. 

“Thanks, Ten,” you smile, grateful for having such a great friend. 

“You can thank me with a kiss,” he jokes as he points his index finger to his extended cheek.

You snort and roll your eyes at him before smacking his arm and you both break out into laughter, which lightens up the mood.

You go through your day with a heavy heart, but you’re thankful that Ten doesn’t ask about what happened yesterday. You do want to tell him, someday, but just not today.

---

A few months have passed since the breakup and you’re back to your usual self again. You still never spoke to Ten about the incident with Taeyong, but you’re not sure if he’s forgotten about it or not. Nothing has changed between you and Ten, your friendship being stronger than ever. You acted the same but you felt weird around Ten now.

The atmosphere felt...different.

You’re not sure if you’re just imagining things but you think Ten is teasing you more than before. There were more lingering touches that sent electricity jolting through your body and sexual jokes thrown every here and there that left you slightly flustered. 

It’s probably because of what Taeyong said to you that night that has been making you more hyper aware of Ten’s actions. 

Of course you still let him do it and try your best to not let it visibly show that it affected you in any way because that’s just how Ten always has been. 

Like just the other day, Ten finished his dance lessons for the day but stayed behind and waited for you to finish so you two could go back home together. You would be done soon, so he decided to kill some time by practicing his choreography. 

Once your last session was over, you packed up your stuff and headed to Ten’s dance room which was right next door. Music was blasting in the studio and when the door opens you are greeted with Ten dancing shirtless. He was wearing a cap to capture his hair and his upper body was covered in sweat.

You didn’t say anything because you assumed he noticed you enter the room but wanted to finish before stopping, so you didn’t want to interrupt and just stared at Ten while he danced. The way his body moves around so quickly during the song was very alluring that you couldn’t look away from his captivating performance.

“Enjoying the view?” he smirks. 

“No, you just seemed focused so I didn’t want to interrupt.” 

“Really? Because my eyes are up here.” He brings out his index finger and middle finger to point each finger at each of his eyes and then points each extended finger at each of your eyes.

You swat his fingers away. “You wish I was staring at you like that.”

“I’m just kidding, baby,” he chuckles before wrapping an arm around your neck.

“Ew, you’re all sweaty!” you squeal as you squirm away from his hold.

“You’re sweaty too. Come here,” he says and chases you around the room with his arms wide open and you run away while screaming.

He manages to trap you against the wall with your head in between his arm and you catch his eyes, staring down at you. 

You gulp at the small distance between your bodies because Ten was just mere inches away from your face. You see him leaning his face closer to yours and you await his next move as you feel your heart beating against your ribcage. Is he really going to kiss you right now in the middle of the dance room where anyone could come in at any moment? However, you don’t make any movements to run away, waiting for what’s to come next.

“Gotcha,” he whispers and pulls away with a chuckle. “Let’s go home. I’m hungry.”

Well you weren’t expecting that at all. Thankfully, he has his back towards you while he goes to retrieve his bag or else he would have seen your face slowly heating up.

And there was another time, where you were doing the laundry by folding your clean clothes on the living room couch. Suddenly, Ten emerges from his room and you see him walking over to you from the corner of your eye. 

“Wow, you wear some racy underwear,” you hear Ten say.

You look up and gasp with wide eyes because you see your black lace panties dangling from his fingers.

“Ten, don’t look at that!” you shout, embarrassed. 

You get up to snatch your article of clothing out of his hands but he’s quick and lifts it higher in the air so it is out of your reach.

“Give it back!” You jump with your arm extended, trying to reach for your panties.

“Try to come get it then,” Ten mocks.

Curse him for using his height against you even though he’s just a bit taller than you. 

You frown as you get on your tip-toes to reach for it but Ten continues to back up. However, Ten wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings and ends up backing up so far that the back of his leg hits the couch, so the male falls backwards and you fall along with him.

“Oof.” With eyes closed, Ten lands backwards on the couch while your body falls on top of Ten’s. 

You get up on your arms and look down to see the position you two were in: Ten under you while you were on top of him. No words were spoken as you stay still in your awkward spots with wide eyes staring at each other.

“Oh, was this your plan all along?” he cheekily grins. “How naughty.”

You whack his chest and quickly grab your underwear back from Ten with burning cheeks.

---

Ten has been teasing you way too much lately so you decide it’s time to get back at him by playing fire with fire.

You look at yourself in the mirror and grin. Currently, you were wearing one of Ten’s t-shirts that you managed to snatch from his closet when you snuck into his room one day while he was in the bathroom.

It was a bit big on you, but you liked it because it smelled like Ten and he will for sure notice it’s his because it’s one of his favorites.

You weren’t wearing anything underneath, except a bra and matching pair of panties which were covered by the oversized shirt. 

From behind your closed door, you hear him outside in the living room playing with one of the cats, because he was cooing at the cat to get his attention so you decided it was time to spring into action.

You exit your room and notice from the corner of your eye that he was sitting on the couch with his attention on Leon. You pretend to grab a drink from the kitchen, making sure your presence was noticed by humming a song. 

“Hey, have you seen my-” you hear him say but you pretend to be searching for something in the fridge.

“Uh, is that my shirt?” he asks.

“Hm?” You blinked innocently at him.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he states, pointing at you.

“Oh is it? I didn’t notice,” you look down at the shirt and shrug.

Ten gets up from the living room couch and makes his way over to you as Leon skimmers away. He places an outstretched arm onto the fridge and the other one on his hip. “Why are you wearing my shirt?”

“I like it. It’s comfortable.”

“Take it off,” he demands.

“Pervert,” you gasp, covering your chest with your arms.

“You’re the one prancing in here with no pants on and wearing my shirt,” he states matter-of-factly. 

“This isn’t the first time you’ve seen me in just a shirt and no pants,” you retort.

“Not in my shirt though,” he raises an eyebrow at you. “Give it back.”

You lean in close to his face and say, “make me.”

You weren’t sure what to expect to happen next but the next thing you know is that he’s throwing you over his shoulder and walking away from the kitchen and into his room. He uses his foot to close the door shut and flips you onto his bed. 

Honestly, you were pretty surprised by everything that just happened right now so your heart is pounding when he removes you from his shoulder and you land on the mattress. 

Ten hovers over your body and peers down at you with his hands by your head and his legs trapping yours. You suddenly lost all that confidence you had to tease Ten back, because right now you feel intimidated by his gaze and slightly turned on?

Suddenly, Ten brings his hands to your sides and begins tickling you. You erupt into a fit of laughter and squirm as you try to get out of his hold.

“Ten, stop! Ah!” you squeal in between laughs. “You know I’m ticklish!”

“Are you going to give me back my shirt?”

“Yes! Okay, I’ll give it back!” 

Ten stops tickling you and you continue to lay in his bed while trying to catch your breath. You are both still a giggling mess but once you’ve calmed down you just stare up at Ten who was still on top of you by the way.

“I’ll go change now and give it back to you,” you state meekly, your eyes avoiding his.

“Nah, you can keep it. Besides, you look cute in my clothes,” he winks and gets off of you.

Well so much for teasing Ten this time because he made you flustered in the end. You think it’s best to not tease Ten because it looks like you won’t be able to win against him in this game.

---

You and Ten were invited to a mutual friend’s birthday party held at the birthday boy’s house, so you both make your way over to the party after work. When you knock on the door, you and Ten are greeted by the birthday boy, Kun, as he gestures for you both to come inside. There were quite a few people there already, so you both mingle with some friends you know at the party while taking a couple of shorts. 

After a while, you excuse yourself from the conversation to go to the kitchen to grab some food, when suddenly you hear a male voice calling your name.

“Y/nnnn!” You turn your head to the source of the voice and see Donghyuck running towards you with open arms, along with Mark trailing behind him. 

An oof leaves your mouth when the younger male’s body collides against yours into a bone crushing hug, knocking the air out of your lungs. 

“I missed you, y/n,” Donghyuck coos. 

“I missed you too, Donghyuck. Hi, Mark.” 

“Hey, how have you been? I saw that you and Taeyong aren’t together anymore because you deleted all his photos from your Instagram,” Mark says as Donghyuck releases you from his hold. 

“Yeah, I’m fine now,” you reply.

“Did you guys break up because of Ten?” Donghyuck asks, leaning in his body towards yours.

Your brows knit together at Donghyuck’s question. “How...did you know?”

“Seriously? I can’t believe I got it right,” Donghyuck laughs, “But it was pretty obvious.”

You lean against the wall and cross your arms with a raised eyebrow. “How so? Explain.”

“I always thought there was something going on between you and Ten. Almost everyone did,” The male states. “He would always flirt with you and was super touchy like you’re a couple. I can’t tell if he’s trying to get with you or fuck you.” 

Your eyes widen and you even turn to Mark for confirmation and he nods in return, indicating that he agrees with Donghyuck’s statement.

“Well, now that you and Taeyong aren’t together anymore, are you going to do something about the tension between you and Ten?” Mark asks.

Honestly, you didn’t know how to respond. What are you even supposed to do, let alone bring up the topic to Ten without making it awkward?

“Hey Donghyuck, Mark, come help Lucas. The guy is a little drunk!” you hear someone shout before the conversation could continue and the two rush to their aid when they see the giant look like he was about to puke. 

After Donghyuck and Mark left, you decided you needed a moment by yourself to think about everything. You’re sitting alone in the balcony of Kun’s room staring up into the sky, thinking about Donghyuck and Taeyong’s words. 

Now, you weren’t disgusted by the thought of being with Ten, romantically or sexually. In fact, you have thought about it before and, honestly, Ten knows you better than anymore just as well as you know him. Heck, you even know how to pronounce his full Thai name correctly, which apparently not a lot of people can do. 

You and Ten have even made an agreement beforehand that if you two were still single by the time you’re both 30 years old, you would just date each other. The thought of being with your best friend didn’t sound all that bad.

Suddenly, you hear someone walk into the room and you turn your head to the door. 

“Hey, what are you doing sitting here all alone?” Ten asks by the door with his hand on the doorknob. “I was looking for you.”

“Oh...I just needed some air,” you reply. “It was kind of stuffy with all the people there. Did you need something?”

“Yeah, it’s almost time to sing and cut the cake,” Ten informs. “Come on, let’s go.” 

“Okay, I’m coming.” You close the balcony door and follow Ten out of Kun’s room. 

---

Ten went out to do a couple of errands for the day while you stayed behind at home and situated yourself on your bed to watch a movie on your laptop to pass some time. You picked a mature-rated romance. The door of your room was left only partially closed in case any of the cats wanted to come in. 

Nothing ever happened after Kun’s birthday party and things were the same as usual. You’re not sure if you should say something because honestly you’ve been thinking about that night ever since. 

Half way into the movie there was a sex scene. You didn’t expect how uncensored the scene was, but you continued to watch in silence. However, it left you feeling aroused, watching the main female character getting fucked unprotected by the main male character.

It has been a while since you’ve had sex too, so you couldn’t help but slowly move your hands down into your shorts, past your panties, and begin to rub two fingers against your folds as you continue to watch the movie. Even though the volume was relatively high, you still bit your bottom lip to prevent any noise as you shove two fingers into your entrance.

Your heart was beating like crazy as your fingers thrust in and out of your core. Your fingers felt good but it wasn’t enough. You needed something bigger.

You spot Ten’s shirt hanging from the edge of your bed and you pause your fingers to grab it with your free hand. You bring it up to your nose and it still smells like the cologne he wears.

You closed your eyes, thinking of Ten and what it would be like if it was his fingers inside of you right now instead of yours. Even better, something else. The thought just turned you on more so you sped up your fingers.

A careless whimper of Ten’s name escapes your lips along with light panting as your fingers brush against your walls. You should have closed the door but you never expected he would come home so fast, so you didn’t hear Ten entering the house. His ears picked up the sound of his name coming from your room.

You push your fingers deeper to find your g-spot, when suddenly the door swung open and your eyes widened in shock when you looked up and locked eyes with the man that was on your mind, standing before you with shock all over his face.

He looks at you and sees his shirt in your hand and your other hand down your pants in between your legs. 

The room is extremely quiet, except for the noises coming from your laptop of the movie still playing. To make it even more awkward, the actress in the movie just announced her orgasm. 

“Are you using my shirt to masturbate?” Ten asks after a silent pause. 

Shit. You just want a hole to appear and eat you up alive because you are so embarrassed you could die right now. 

You can feel your blood running cold after getting caught in this awkward situation. 

“Ten, I-” You were speechless. 

You didn’t know what to say because your mind was completely blank right now. What do you say to someone when you just got caught doing something inappropriate and even worse using their article of clothing to get off? You quickly retract your fingers from your core. 

You thought Ten would make fun of you or be grossed out by your actions. But instead, he walks into your room, slamming the door shut, gets on to your bed, and hovers over you. It happened so fast that your mind couldn’t comprehend it quick enough that you just froze in place.

Your eyes widened at the dangerous proximity and you felt your heart racing as you peered up into Ten’s cat-like eyes to see that he was staring down at you with such intensity that you’re starting to get a little nervous. 

He grabs the wrist of your hand that you just used to get off with his hand and puts your fingers in his mouth, sucking up your juices. He releases your fingers from his mouth with a pop and your eyes are as wide as saucers now at Ten. 

For once, you felt it. The sexual tension that everyone constantly mentions between you two. You can actually feel it in the air. You no longer see Ten, your best friend, but a man, standing before you with a dark look in his eyes.

“You taste so good.” He licks his lips to pick up any excess off his mouth. 

Ten’s gaze falls from your eyes to your lips and your eyes do the same after you notice his eyes were no longer on yours, but something else. 

“If you don’t want this, push me away right now and I’ll stop,” Ten whispers before slowly closing the distance between his face from yours.

But you don’t stop him. You want this just as badly as he does.

When Ten sees no sign of you rejecting his advances, he closes his eyes before he cups your face with one hand and crashes his soft lips against yours. You close your eyes and return the kiss with your hands clinging on his shoulders for support. Ten’s other hands snake around your waist to bring your figure closer to his, so you’re body to body. Teeth and tongue clashed against each other in a rough, hungry kiss, full of passion. 

He releases himself from your lips to start stripping you of your clothes in a rush that he practically wanted to tear them off your skin if he could. 

Once fully naked, he begins to remove his own clothes and tosses them on the floor. His lips latch back on to your lips again as his hands begin to roam your body, touching your skin, which sends tingles throughout your body from his warm touch. 

The male stops the kiss to allow a moment to breathe. However, that doesn’t last long when Ten begins to leave open mouth kisses on your neck and you shiver as he nips a sensitive spot. Then, he sucks hickies all over your collarbone and chests, marking you with purple bruises. 

Your back arches off the bed when you feel a warm mouth sucking one of your nipples while the other one is being played with between his fingers.

“Ten,” you whimper.

He releases his mouth from your nipple at the sound of his name escaping your lips and runs two fingers against your folds causing you to shiver.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already.” Ten breaths as he pumps his hardening cock in his other hand. “I wanted to take my time with you, but I want you so badly right now that I can’t wait.”

The statement made you even more wet because you have been craving Ten’s touch for a while now. You want to feel his cock inside of you.

“Hang on, let me go get a condom in my ro-,'' Ten informs you but you stop him by reaching into your bedside table and grabbing a condom from your drawer to hand to him. 

You still had a bunch leftover because of your ex. Ten raises an eyebrow at you but decides to ask questions later and to start opening the packet now.

Ten rips the plastic open with his teeth and rolls the condom onto his length. Your pussy was throbbing in anticipation as you stared at Ten’s cock. Once he’s fully sheathed, he tosses the wrapper into your trashcan and positions himself in front of your entrance with your legs planted on his shoulders. Slowly, he enters you and your fingernails dig into his back at the stretch of his length around your wet cavern.  

“Fuck, you feel so good around me,” Ten groans as he bottoms out of you.

You felt so full as his cock throbs inside of you from the feeling of your warm walls. You and Ten have never been so intimate before, being skin against skin. You can’t believe this is actually happening and neither can Ten. 

Ten waits for you to get used to his size by staring at the place where you two were connected. As soon as he heard from you that it was okay to move, he takes his length out and then slams his cock back deep inside of you. You both moan as he begins to find a steady and hard pace to fuck you into your mattress.

“Tell me, why were you using my shirt to help you get off?” he asks as he continues to thrust inside of you. 

Honestly, you were so embarrassed that you got caught by him that you really did not want to tell him, but suddenly, he stops and you stare at him with pleading eyes, asking him why did you stop? with your eyes.

“Answer me,” he hisses, gritting his teeth. 

His length was still inside of you but he holds your hips down with an iron grip so you don’t make any movements to pleasure yourself until you answer his question. 

“I-I was thinking about you,” you choke out, face heating up. 

“You were thinking about me while playing with yourself? How dirty,” he whispers, nipping your ear. 

Satisfied with your reply, he begins pistoning inside of you at a speed that made your breasts bounce along with the thrusts. 

“It’s because you’ve been teasing me so much lately- saying I look cute in your clothes- throwing me on your bed-”

“-and your reactions were so cute. God, I wanted to just take you right then and there,” Ten pants between each thrust. “Did I make you feel some type of way?”

“Yes,” you whimper.

“Good.” Ten readjusts his positions and hits your g-spot dead on, causing you to see stars as pleasure courses through your whole body. You're a moaning mess and your toes curl as he continues to ram that spot with harsh thrusts. 

Your walls begin to convulse around his length and Ten throws his head back at the squeeze. You were close, so Ten picks up the pace. 

The movie was still playing, mixed with the sound of moans and your juices squelching with every thrust.

“Ten, I’m about to come,” you announce.

“Me too,” Ten groans as his thrusts become sloppier and uneven. “Cum for me.” 

With a few more thrusts, the knot in your lower stomach bursts and you come around his length. Soon afterwards, Ten shoots his seeds into the condom. You are both a panting mess trying to come down from your orgasms. You are both covered in sweat, there were scratch marks all over Ten’s back, and the room smells like must and sex. 

After a minute, Ten pulls out from your pussy, removes the condom from his cock, and tosses it into your trash bin. 

You and Ten have officially crossed the line from best friend territory. 

“Hey,” Ten speaks, catching your attention. “Do you regret what we just did?” Ten asks, concern laced in his voice.

You stared at your best friend, his eyes filled with fear at the possibility that you might have regretted what just happened. But you don’t regret it at all, so you shake your head. 

“No,” you reply. 

“Good, because me neither,” he happily smiles and brings you into his embrace. 

“I-uh...overheard your conversation with Donghyuck and Mark during the party. Is it true that you and Taeyong broke up because of me?” he meekly informs you.

You groan, “Ten, I’m so sorry. I meant to tell you eventually but-”

“It’s okay. I’m not mad. The truth is I never wanted to say anything in case you didn’t feel the same way and ruin our friendship. At first, I was so mad at myself when you started going on with Taeyong because I felt like I just lost my chance. But after what we just did, I need to tell you how I feel so I don’t lose you again,” Ten confesses. “I really like you, y/n.”

You feel your heart swell with joy and a blush creeps up your face. “I really like you too, Ten.”

Now it’s his turn to feel his heart swell with joy because the person he likes reciprocates his feelings. 

He lays down beside you in your bed and stares lovingly into your eyes as he uses one arm to support his head while the other strokes a strand of hair away from your face. 

“Ten...what’s going to happen to us now?” you ask.

Ten softens. “Nothing has to change. I will always be your best friend, but I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing where this goes.”

A smile slowly spreads on your face at Ten’s words. “Me neither.” 

---

Tonight, you wanted to showcase your new performance at the club. You asked the DJ to shoutout Ten during your introduction for helping you with the moves, and to add “my boyfriend” after saying his name which made said boyfriend sitting in the front seat glee with joy.

Loud R&B music began to play and the crowd started cheering when your figure emerged from behind the curtains in an oversized black, thin knit sweater that was long enough to cover part of your thighs and black high heels. 

You walk to the center and put your hands on the pole that was securely placed in the middle of the stage. You grind against the pole before lifting yourself off from the floor to do some impressive spins. 

Once the music is reaching the chorus, you carefully get on your knees before getting into a fetal position. Then, you lift your ass up in the air, giving it a wiggle and allowing your top to slowly fall. Next, you quickly sit on your knees and your arms wrap around the opposite ends with your fingers grasp the ends of your top and slowly begin to lift it up, revealing something interesting underneath. The shirt began to expose your skin-tight, long sleeve, red bodysuit that you were wearing underneath this whole time. 

You’ve never worn it before, so today is your first day wearing it because you recently bought it and wanted to show off in front of the crowd. 

The crowd goes wild and Ten’s bites his thumbs trying to hide his wide grin. 

You toss the black oversized shirt to the side of the stage and get back up off our knees to strut over to the stage pole again, swaying your hips side to side. The dance continues again and you hope Ten was impressed by your strip tease.  

Oh, he definitely liked it because as soon as Ten found you after your performance ended, he pinned you against the wall and attacked your lips into a passionate kiss. 

“You were so hot up there. Watching my girlfriend strut like that turned me on so much,” Ten confesses as his dark eyes raked your entire figure while his hands roam your body.

“Turned on enough to fuck me here in the waiting room?” you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Fuck yeah.”

Before anything could progress, you both stopped because there was a banging noise coming from the door that startled you both.

“You two better not be fucking in there!” a voice screams from the other side of the door.

You and Ten looked at each other before bursting out into a fit of laughter at your coworker’s words. 

“Sorry, Jongin!”

[seraphimguks]

roses, poetry and jeon.

☾ pairing: bookstore employee!jungkook x reader

★ summary: Between the pieces of sappy poetry and dried rose petals hidden in every book you buy from the local bookstore; you fall in love with the anonymously enigmatic writer.

➳  genre: bookstore au, enemies to lovers-ish?, fluff, slight angst

☂ words: 12k

♡ a/n: hellooo! So, after countless days and nights working on this, I’m VERY proud as to how it came out to be. I don’t have any experience as a bookstore employee so please forgive me if I made some mistakes! Also, all the poetry compositions have been written by yours truly hehe. I really hope you guys enjoy this story as much I enjoyed writing it! Let me know how you felt (reblogs and comments go a long way!) c:

                                                               ~*~

The sunlight filtering through your window was a familiar feeling. As it warmed your covers, you lazily turned to the other side of your bed hoping to find a cooler spot to resume your slumber. When not even cocooning yourself helped, you angrily pulled your blanket over your frame and let the heat take the win for this one.

You opened your eyes and took a minute to take in your surroundings. You felt like your party-hungry college student-self waking up one morning on someone else’s bathroom floor that wasn’t yours. In that reverie, you winced as you could almost taste the vodka at the back of your throat and the puke roiling up in your stomach.

A half open book lay face down on your nightstand and dried up drool pooled near the top of your pillow, possibly because you dozed off in between. You checked your phone, and was relieved that it was the weekend. There were no messages from work, you wanted to jump up in joy like you were a child on sugar rush.

Your job as a market assistant was good, and although you enjoyed the work, sometimes it felt dry and you lost all enthusiasm to continue. Your boss was an asshole, you really wanted to smack him. Your colleagues were no less either, but in all speaking you didn’t want to change your job yet because it paid well to give you a good apartment room and four-square meals a day.

Even thinking about work made you upset. You hugged your knees to your chest, resting your head on them because you were just too tired. Deep down in your conscious, you knew you couldn’t pursue your true passion for financial reasons and because it was just a dying profession.

Thoughts aside, you decided to treat yourself to the weekend by going to the bookstore just around your block. You loved bookstores, it was your favourite retreat growing up when your father would come and pick out the books you wanted to borrow. You were a very avid reader as a child, however as the homework started piling up as you went up a grade, there was no time to wiggle some reading time in between the cracks of your heavy schedule. Until now.

The bookstore opened five years ago, a cozy place that usually met a lukewarm crowd on weekends. You were a regular there. The owner, Kim Namjoon, was few years elder to you but was polite, handsome and very well read despite having a demanding position at his accounting job. Namjoon had opened the bookstore as a part-time thing to stay rooted to his love for literature, and since his profession earned well, he was able to recruit two or three employees to help him out when he was at work.

Ji Changmin was the cutest employee there, and honestly you couldn’t deny that part of the reason why you headed up to the cozy establishment was to see him. He had an ebullient disposition with lovely dimples that you couldn’t help but think was cute. He always greeted new customers with a wide smile and you stifled a laugh when you remembered his extremely loud shriek when one of the customers accidentally dropped a book. The poor boy almost fell from the ladder when he was trying to sort out the books on the highest shelf.

He was a dance major at the nearby University and his shifts were on the weekends, the two days when he was free. He often came to the store disheveled from practicing on his own, but he still managed to clean up and look flawless in a simple apron uniform.

You also knew that the first weekend of the new month meant fresh arrivals – so not only were you going to see your favourite employee (you would never tell Changmin, of course) and get some eye-candy, but also browse through the new novels waiting to be read by fellow bookworms like yourself. Maybe even eye Changmin over the top of the pages you read, and knowing him long enough he would probably be practicing few steps of his dance routine, and oh didn’t he look sexy.

And with that said, you were ready in flat 15 minutes.

 ~*~

 The conundrum of living in cities was known to you – the whizz of scooters going by in the morning, the delightful screams of school children returning from class in the afternoon and the shutters of karaoke bars and clubs opening up for the evening.

That’s why you were so relieved that the apartment you were housing in was located in a sleepy neighbourhood, where the hustle-bustle was less pronounced.  It was also near a subway that took you effortlessly to work. The street which you lived in mostly had all the necessities you could ask for, from grocery markets, a hospital, small cafes, retail stores, and of course, a medium-sized bookstore.

Fact and Fiction Bookstore was a store squeezed in between a medical shop and an apartment, just a couple of blocks from your place. It always had a wooden signboard that had “Open” and “Closed” in hand drawn letters and the interiors were festooned with decorative pendant lamps that lit the room in a golden halo. Walnut coloured, skyscraper height bookshelves lined the walls in even spaces, from classics to children’s books to study materials. There were few wooden stools scattered hither and tither and a small cash register at the extreme center, that led to the store room in the back. Overall, the shop had a modern yet minimalistic look that was to your liking.

As you walked inside of Fact and Fiction, you heard the familiar bell chime as you pushed open the doors. You made it just in time, and of course there were no customers there. You smiled a bit, knowing that Changmin might just be around and you could have some quality time with him for a bit. But instead of seeing Changmin usually wiping the bookshelves carefully, you were surprised to see Namjoon in his place.

“Oh Y/N! So nice to see you this morning,” Namjoon smiled, walking up to you. Namjoon never came on weekends, and if he did, it was when one of the employees were unable to work anymore. But that was very rare. Could that mean-

“Hey Namjoon,” You said, trying to mask the slight disappointment. “I thought you didn’t come on weekends?”

“I don’t, but now I guess I have to,” He laughed, returning to clean the bookshelves at the far right of the room.

“Why, what happened to Changmin?” You faked playing it cool by taking a book off the Bestseller’s shelf.

“He had to leave, he got scouted by an entertainment agency couple days ago. He’s going to be a trainee,” Namjoon shouted from the opposite side of the room.

As much as your heart felt like it fell from the sky, that you were no longer going to be ogling over the button eyed boy now, you felt a surge of happiness at Changmin finally achieving his lifelong dream to be an idol. It would take some years, but seeing him on the big screen – possibly even cuter – made your heart flutter. Of course, Namjoon was handsome too, so you didn’t mind stealing glances at him now that you no other choice.

“So, what are you going to do, now that he’s gone?” You asked. Surely the other two employees would be a replacement, you thought.

“I already hired a new employee; he’s going to be in charge in weekends now,” Namjoon wiped his hands on the cloth and disappeared into the storeroom.”

You silently nodded to yourself. It was silence now, just you and the books. Evidently you moved to the New Arrivals section, picking an interesting book cover and started reading the first chapter.

As soon as you ensconced in the setting, you heard the door open with the low chatter of what you assumed were female college students.

You heard footsteps. Someone from the other end of the store, presumably the new employee, greeted them in the conventional fashion bookstore employees usually do.

"What may I help you ladies with?"

The hair on the back of your neck stood. Your ears perked up out of its own volition. The vibrations in your heart quickened. Your knees suddenly felt weak, goosebumps erupting on every inch of your skin. You felt the air shifting, as if the coffee toned floorboard beneath you was angled and moved on its own accord.

You've heard that voice before. No, you knew that voice. You started to panic, leaving the book you were reading on the wrong shelf and scurrying past the aisles to the center of the room, where the voice seemingly came from.

You tried to recall where and whom the voice belonged to. The vestiges of your brain that locked out certain memories of your high school unlocked. Your mind worked like a tape recorder left on fast forward. If what you thought was right, it seemed as if that voice belonged to a certain five foot something, a mean, nitpicking, lanky teenager that went by the name –

 Jeon Jungkook.

 Your eyes widened immediately. The second you laid eyes on your high school enemy, your legs went cold. You stood there gawking at the boy – now a man – and couldn't for a second fathom why, in all places, he just had to work here in the same neighborhood you lived in. For a second you were cursing Namjoon, but honestly how could that innocent and charming aficionado, unalike Jungkook, know who your high school nemesis was?

Jungkook too, seemed flustered by your appearance, hand straight away behind his neck as he looked at you sheepishly. He aged well, you thought for a moment. He was no longer the gangly teenager that he was; he was bulky, with budding muscles on his arms if you strained your eyes just a bit. He grew out of his ridiculous mushroom haircut, settling for a fringe that slightly kissed the top of his eyes. He grew taller, no doubt, and this time he grew into his features, a square face with a visible jawline that could, quite literally cut glass.

Your history with Jungkook was clear as day. You guys were classmates in high school for four years. The then 15-year-old used to tease you every chance he got. He used to make fun of what you wore, the pieces of writing you wrote and why you always received the highest scores in literature class. Even when he asked for your help in getting better scores in English, he would always speak with a hint of sarcasm and impatience. You left high school cursing him through and through, but was happy you'd never get to see or run into him ever again. Until today.

"Hi Y/N," he said.

"Jungkook," you took a step forward, crossing your arms. This was habit you did as a form of defensive mechanism. Sure, whatever teenage Jungkook said to you during your high school years were long past, but it did put a dent in your self-esteem even if a bit. Maybe your teenage self still feels that the grown up Jungkook would once again sputter mean words to you even though high school was a good while back. “Been long.”

"Yeah, you're right. It's so good to see you again, I mean, I never expected," his voice soft, kind. Of all things, this was the most surprising. You tried to forget how shockingly attractive he turned out to be.

"Ditto," You said, unsure of what else to say. You looked down at your shoes, circling one foot around the other. "So how do you know Namjoon?"

"Oh, Hyung and I go way back. He used to tutor me in high school. Maths, geography, literature, you name it. I owe it to him, for making me pass. I heard he was looking for work so I decided to step in."

Oh, so that's why. The pieces were falling in place now. It did feel nice to catch up with an old high school ‘acquaintance’ of sorts, so you kept aside the qualms of your bullying experiences aside.

"Hey, now that you're here, I never got to say that I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused you in high school. I was dumb, stupid really, I mean, dumb and stupid are the same thing, but what I mean is-"

"It's okay, Jungkook. I'm long past it, to be honest. You're forgiven." You manage a small smile, your insides warming with his thoughtfulness. What was even sweet was that he appeared a bit nervous, even though the line seemed rehearsed - it made you think as if he'd been saying this apology to himself so many times as if he would meet you again one day and say it.

Now that the mood was lighter, few more customers began pouring in. You let Jungkook continue with his work even though you wanted to know details about his life now. You resumed reading the book, considered even making this the first purchase in a long time, before Jungkook waddled up to you suggesting that he was free to talk.

"So," Jungkook began slowly, leaning over the wall opposite the bookshelf. “You live here?

“Just a couple of blocks from here. What about you?”

“Oh no, I took the subway here. It’s bit far from my boxing center at home,” he smiles, bowing at new customers who already seemed to know what to look for. You noticed when he smiled that the one thing that didn’t change about Jungkook was his doe eyes. God, they were so misleading to anyone else who didn’t know him well.

And wow, that explained the muscles. Jeon Jungkook having his own boxing center? You pegged Jungkook as being unemployed after high school because if you recall correctly, his grades were dismal. But you can’t judge a book by its cover, right?

“Wow, boxing center huh? How’s that going?” You kind of feigned interest, nodding your head more than usual whereas you just wanted to read.

“Great actually. I took business in college, and it really got me thinking. So, I pulled some strings and opened a center, that way I could practice and so can everyone else. It’s going pretty good,” he nodded satisfyingly.

You give him a sad smile. He was doing something he liked. You were too, but not exactly.

“So, do you still write poetry?” He asks, knowing he’d been talking too much about himself.

Ah, that was your sour spot. Your true passion. Writing poetry. Those years in high school you realized nothing gave you true happiness than what the joy of words did. You never wanted to make a career out of anything if it didn’t happen to include writing. However, prospects in becoming a writer were perilously low and by the time you finished your first year in college, you realized you had a take different direction if you wanted to lead a financially stable life to pay off your loans.

“Oh, that.” You shrugged, another one of your defense mechanisms. Jungkook’s eyebrow lifted questioningly. You weren’t one to call poetry as ‘that’.

“Well, I learnt poetry can get you far enough as someone with a dying YouTube career, sadly as it is. It's a beautiful profession, but I needed to make ends meet. So currently I'm working as assistant marketing manager at this company an hour away.” You tried to seem as content as possible.

“How is it?” Jungkook now had to go and take to some customers but he was still listening to you.

“It's great!”

It's fucking tedious. Sometimes I want to scream, tear some papers and run around like a maniac.  

“I love my boss and my teammates.”

My boss is a sexist, misogynistic prick and my teammates love to kiss his ass.

“There are days when I don't even think about poetry.”

I think about it every single second that I'm at work. I can’t even write cause I’m so packed with stuff to do.

Jungkook laughs as he aligns some books in the correct angles. "You were a good student in high school. With those grades, getting that job must have been piece of cake for you. Although, it must suck not to write because of your work.”

You’re telling me.

The book you were previously reading wasn’t that interesting as you thought. You moved over to the Poetry section, skimming your fingers over the covers of books. You saw a familiar title and took it out. It was the same book of poems that your school had given as part of your Literature syllabus. This book made you fall in love with words and what they mean. You looked inside and to your relief, it had all the poems of love, tragedy and loss that you came to love when you studied them meticulously when you were still a student.

Your favourite poems were I Dream of You by Christina Rossetti and Rooms by Charlotte Mew. You longed for a romance like the ones they described in stanzas, but only seldom in your life did you come across someone who shared the love of sappy poetry like you did.

“Rooms, huh? I love that poem,” Your head sharply whipped towards Jungkook’s direction, who was now curiously studying the book you had in hand.

Jungkook, liking poetry? The same lad who made fun of all the writers for being over-dramatic over love, was now saying he liked poetry?

“Surprising, I know. But like, if anyone found out the guy on the football team shared a secret love for prose and poetry, I would’ve been thrown out,” He shrugs lightly. You understood, your school solely ran on conservative values of toxic masculinity and favouritism. You managed to survive all of that, thankfully.

You and Jungkook then engaged in a discussion on the best poems and writing you guys read, surprised at his wide knowledge and the opinions he had to share. You agreed on many, disagreed with a few. But one thing you realized was that maybe meeting Jungkook wasn’t such a bad thing at all, you guys could finally be friends.

You decided to buy your book of poems. You haven’t seen this book in ages and it would be nice to add to your collection anyway.

As you handed over the book to Jungkook to check out, your hands touched only slightly. Jungkook gave you a small, shy smile, and you returned it. Right before he was going to give you the bill, his hands awkwardly hovered over the register for a moment.

“Wait,” he quickly remembered. “I have to put a stamp inside of this. It’s a way of checking what books are purchased. Work regulations. Give me a sec?”

You nodded and he disappeared into the store room for a good 10 minutes. You waited as you looked around the store for the nth time and wondering when you’d be back again. Jungkook suddenly returned, looking a little sweaty even though the air-conditioner was still on. He wiped his sweat using a towel next to the register and handed over the book to you with both hands.

You smiled at your purchase, tucking it in your bag and respectfully bowing to Jungkook before you decided to make your leave. As soon as you turned your heel towards the door, Jungkook awkwardly extended a hand to you.

“So, what do you say, friends?” His eyes were looking down, to hide his embarrassment. You thought it was cute. You extended your hand too.

“Friends.”

~*~

The sky had enveloped the sun the same way it always did during sundown. You settled comfortably in your duvet, taking out the book inside the paper bag that had the initials F.F. printed in large colourful letters. You placed the book gingerly between your legs as you scanned the hard cover.

You inhaled the pages, the smell settling somewhere in your bones. Then you began reading. It was sunset when you started and then midnight when you got to the middle. You held back a yawn as you decided to call it a day and then get to work from tomorrow. You were putting a bookmark inside the page you stopped at when something like a scrap of paper fell out of the book.

Carefully, you kept your book on the night stand and picked up the fragment and turned it over.

The paper looked as if it were torn from a notebook. What looked like a poem was written in the childish scrawl of a 10-year old, but it didn’t seem reasonable that a child would write something with such thought and maturity.

  Thousands of libraries will never exhaust

How you wander in the loveliest recesses of my thoughts,

An angel fallen from heaven,

Am I merely just a spectre in your presence?

Your fingers possess secrets in every page that you write

But how would it feel my dear,

if the hands that touched your skin, were I?

Books may command your attention

But I mean no harm,

But beyond the classroom walls, here is my confession

That it fatigues me that to remain a boy who will love you from afar.

  You stared at the paper for a while.

The poem was no doubt very beautiful, suggestive even. Unrequited love always made the best poems, you knew. You imagined a love-struck young boy penning down this very poem for his classmate in the back of his Algebra book, thinking it would never be seen by anyone else except him. What you loved most was that in each verse, the writer made his best effort to form an analogy between his lover’s passion for books and his passion for her. And to top it all, you and this girl shared your love for books.

But how did such a sensitive piece of writing wind up in your poetry book?

The paper didn’t match the quality of the paper of your recent buy, obviously. Namjoon was also not one to keep second-hand or used books in his store either. Was someone else reading the book and somehow slipped this inside? But the writing seemed very personal and it would be irresponsible for someone to misplace something like this.

You shrugged it off later, safely keeping the piece in one of your night stand drawers. Just when you were about to place your treasured book of poems in your book case, rose petals from the book fell to the floor.

Gasping, you picked the bunch in your hands, the petals bearing an angry crimson shade. Roses were your favourite flower, so you couldn’t but smell the petals that lay within your reach.

But if anything, it only multiplied the questions in your head as to how, when and why both the love poem and the petals were in the book in the first place.

~*~

You forgot about the poem and the rose petals until you found yourself going back to Fact and Fiction the next week.  Surprisingly, work load was less but you didn’t want to be one to ask why.

It was a sunny afternoon. You got the news that a sequel to one of your favourite series released few days ago. You were sure that Namjoon would keep a neat pile of the sequel somewhere in his bookstore.

Jungkook was already at the register handing a customer his receipt when he noticed you entering through the glass door. He gave a small wave as you scuttered to the New Arrival’s section. Anxiously, you browsed through the section until you finally saw the familiar title.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you muttered, the pads of your fingertips feeling the glossy hardcover. You had only turned to the front page when a dark-haired someone appeared by your side.

“Seriously, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes? Heard it didn’t get good reviews,” Jungkook smirks at you.

“Didn’t get good reviews my ass,” you mock him, going back to reading. The boy shakes his head and lets you read as he helps a customer find a certain book. More customers started to pour in, and soon Jungkook is up and running across the store every five minutes. You felt sorry for him, but then you realised with all his working out, running across a five thousand feet store was practically nothing.

It was just you in the store when it was evening. Jungkook leaned on the wall, resting his head on the counter in respite. You smiled dejectedly at him, wanting to say something to light the mood.

“So, how is Taehyung and Jimin? We couldn’t really catch up properly,” you said, sitting on one of the tools.

Jungkook sighed, almost happy that he could have one conversation today that wasn’t about foraging book titles of books ceased producing copies anymore.

“Jimin is good,” he said, wiping his sweat with the back of his hand. “He’s working at this law firm in Australia. Taehyung is pursuing his Master’s in Europe, something in cultural studies.’

“Wow,” the jealously in your voice was slightly apparent. You did work at a well-known company, but still, working abroad was a different league altogether.

“Gosh, can you believe how messed up we three were? Always fooling around, teachers said we wouldn’t amount to anything,” Jungkook reminisced, leaning his elbows on the counter now.

“I remember,” you laughed. “Especially when Taehyung pranked Mr. Choi with that whoopie cushion and Mrs. Kang when you drew her face on the board one day.”

“I think even Mrs. Kang laughed at that drawing herself, it was pretty impressive,” he smirks, lips breaking into a cocky grin. “

“And I think everyone remembers how you made Hae-ri cry in front of the whole class when you broke up with her,” you chucked, remembering the incident. Hae-ri and Jungkook sort of were going out in the middle of eleventh grade, but you always heard rumours how Jungkook was just playing around, like boys always did.

“Come on, Hae-ri and I were a joke. Can’t help it if she took us seriously,” Jungkook rolled his eyes. He clearly wasn’t interested in her as much as she was. As much as the others girl were really, even though to you he was what you always thought he was – a stupid, mean and lanky adolescent. “To think of it, I couldn’t help if I was a bit popular.”

“Oh, you were the cynosure of all eyes, Kook,” you smiled, looking down. It was true. Jungkook always carried an aura of confidence was that infectious. The kind of charm that made heads turn when he walked in the room, the type of startling charisma that was unnatural of a fifteen-year-old.

“Everyone’s eyes except yours,” he emphasised, crossing his arms over another.

“I mean, you hated me. We hated each other,” You state matter-of-factly, as you got up from the stool to the counter to make your purchase. “I can’t believe I even tried to be nice with you.”

Jungkook faced you with an expression on his face you couldn’t decipher. “I didn't hate you, not completely.”

That was news. You always thought Jungkook and his little gang were out to torture every weakling in school. Jungkook especially liked to torture you, so it would be an understatement to say you were a bit surprised.

“Which part of your icky teenage self,” you jabbed a finger in his shoulder playfully. “-even tolerated me?”

“The part that tolerated you thought you were special. And you still are, Y/N. Special.”  He repeated.

There was a twinkle in his eyes when he spoke that you didn’t miss. Your heart felt like it was floating, warmed by the how Jungkook meant every word he said about you. Your stomach did this thing where it felt like a million bees were swarming around when you felt shy. A blast of warmth shot up your arms. The feeling lingered even when you pushed The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes in his direction.

Jungkook’s smirk didn’t wipe off his face after you had given your payment. The silence seemed unusual, did you just share an intimate, if brief, moment with your high school foe? Why had he called you special? You never stood out even when you were classmates, so why was he saying this now?

“I’ll go stamp this, yeah?” he cuts the silence. You nod, and he vanishes into the storeroom again. He comes back five minutes later this time and hands you the paper bag. You take your leave and silently leave the store.

What you don’t see is Jungkook’s gaze following you intently as you pull the door, walk across the street from the store and disappear into the night.

~*~

You returned home, your laptop greeting you with tons of messages from work. You cursed each of them, especially the one from your boss asking you to revise last week’s updates even though you emailed in a bunch of times saying you did. You pulled an all-nighter as you completed the tasks expected of you. By the time you were done, it was already two-thirty in the night.

You flopped on your bed, your body relaxing as it hit the soft covers. You breathed a sigh of relief as you pulled out your purchase from the paper bag.

You suddenly remembered the poem and the petals. You decided it would be weird, but you turned the book over as if you were expecting the same contents to pool from it. And sure enough, you were right.

Not one, but two pieces of notebook scraps settled onto your lap with some blue coloured rose petals. Your mind did a mental ‘what the fuck?’ before picking up the petals and placing them on your night stand. You picked the scraps and read them, never expecting what you would find.

 Help me, for I am surrounded by loquacious ghosts

Yet you stand there, a beauty in flesh and bone

Women would die for me,

yet my mind echoes only your name

Break me from my reverie,

To kiss you in the blue sweater that hugs your delicate frame

You eye me with pure hate, yet is I to blame

I treat you wrongly,

But only to hide my love for you – if you push me away.

 You read the second one now.

 Blue,

It is the colour of the sweater you wear every first Monday of the month

The pencil you write poems at the top of your chemistry notebook,

The rain as it brushes against your skin when you're late to class

The look on your face when you're happy

The sound of my heart when you walk past my seat at the cafeteria table

The smile you wear when your friends hook their arms around yours

And my love for you that will never be requited.

 Cold sweat broke out on your spine. This wasn't some love poem that was mistakenly placed in your book. It felt like the poems were directed at you. Even the first poem made you feel slightly suspicious because you had a resemblance to the girl mentioned in it.

You tried to knit all three poems together, because all those years in poetry class made you an expert at analysing. You found a connection. They were written by someone in high school.

The love for books, the pencil, the sweater, the behaviour traits, all reminded you of your teenage self from years ago. It was so intricate, as if this person had been observing you through a lens in class for years.

It was someone that you hated and he hated you too, but then again, you hated a lot of people in high school, and they too, you felt, disliked you. You had few friends, however good ones, all of which whom you remained in contact today.

Who could this person be? He definitely had outstanding poetry skills, the words worming its way into your heart ever since you had the first poem. You felt shy. Someone, in your class, liked you behind a mask of hatred. Your body contracted as you concluded that you had a mystery writer sending you messages with every book you bought. You wondered why you were living in the dark for a long time.

How had this not happened earlier? Why was it that before buying the book, it didn’t seem to have any individual contents in it, but after taking it home, it did?

You wanted more answers. You wanted to write back, but whom would you be writing to? You didn't know this person or his address. You realised that this was a one-way connection. You could only build your assumption if you had more poems to build them on.  

And that could only happen if you happened to go to a certain bookstore couple of blocks from your apartment.

~*~

You went there the next weekend, on a cold Sunday morning. You kept the mystery poet a secret to yourself, although it haunted you for the whole week while you were at work.

As the weeks ensued, work was piling up, but you felt at peace when you were there among the books and Jungkook's company. The weekends went by with Jungkook narrating funny stories of certain customers he encountered, high school memories, work schedules, and of course books.

“No, Dark Places was absolutely not one of Gillian Flynn’s best works,” you commented, one evening.

“But the Satanic vibe was cool, you have to admit,” Jungkook’s voice was lost as he piled books in front of a stand.

Jungkook was a diligent worker for a newbie; he polished the shelves and smoothened out dog-eared books. He always checked the register and counted the cash, aligned the books the correct way, made note of what books were available and those which needed immediate restocking. He lost his callous attitude of high school years, but you berated yourself for always comparing his high school habits to the Jungkook now.

You rolled your eyes. “Have you read Karin Slaughter’s books though?”

You could feel his smirk from behind the stack of books. “Pretty Girls.”

“The Good Daughter.” You argued.

“Pretty Girls was grislier. I like.” God, you wanted to lunge a book at this guy. Everything gory or Satanic amused him, it seemed.

Jungkook was funnier than you imagined with the comedic antics he sometimes pulled off, by failing at twirling a book in his hands to accidentally hitting his head on the storeroom door behind the register. He sometimes flirted here and there, which was mostly harmless. But you couldn’t forget that time in the store when he called you special. The look he gave, the sincerity behind it, how genuine it felt.

You kept buying books and of course the love letters kept emerging along with the roses. You still had no idea who this person was, but as time went by, you kept falling more and more in love. You kept the petals in your journal. They did dry off, but you kept them regardless. You always kept the poems in your drawer, neatly piled into one corner. Sometimes, you pressed them close to your chest as if the words would somehow leap up from the page, dissolve into your rib cages and settle near your heart.

But one stormy morning that you were at the bookstore, you were weighed down by how work was progressing. The company had faced some setbacks, so you were responsible for getting the hearing from your boss. You tried to mask your sadness until you see Jungkook doing something suspicious near the centre of the room.

There was a small stand, where usually books were heaped into a mountain of paperbacks. It looked as if the boy was trying to pile the books in a house of cards fashion. The experiment was bound to fail, and Jungkook was lucky Namjoon was never here on weekends to see what was about to be happen.

But you help him instead.

“Do you like working here, Kook?” you tried to sound nonchalant. You hand him two books at a time, while he dexterously stabilised a book on top of another.

“I do,” he replies. “It’s relaxing. Especially when I’m not sweaty and working out all the time. Why?”

“It’s just, I hate my work environment you know, and I miss writing– “

Jungkook eyes you worriedly as he stops midway through the activity. You don’t notice and hand him some books anyway, but they fall right at the edge of the pile and the whole stack falls down on both of you like dominoes.

Jungkook falls back first on the ground, catching you as you fall on his stomach. Your faces are inches away from each other, but you rest your head on his chest, tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! See? I’m such a mess. I can’t do anything right, I’m a failure, I’m-“

Jungkook rests his hand on your back and the other hand gently stroking your forehead. You picked up on his hesitance, as if he was asking your body to relax as a signal that he was comforting you. You did relax, you felt as ease. The weeks when you were around him, you never felt comfortable with anyone in your life. Let alone the fact that he was attractive, erm, cute – but he was probably one of the best people you knew.

“Shut up okay? You're amazing. Those assholes at work don't know how talented you are. You're amazing.” Jungkook whispered, rubbing your back in small circles. “I…I sometimes don’t like working at my centre either. The toxic masculinity over there makes me want to puke. I hate the environment, and sometimes I think I’m the one who sparked it.

He wraps both arms round you now, and you're reminded again literally, that being surrounded by books and Jungkook was what led you to Fact and Fiction every weekend. You two lie there for a good ten seconds, before you realised that a customer may walk in any moment. There was also the mess to sort out.  

You help Jungkook up, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

“I can’t really see you cry, I start crying too,” Jungkook jokes, as he hands you a tissue from the tissue box. Always so concerned, you took note. “Is there something that keeps you happy apart from books? Y-you could try and do that?”

"Actually,” you sniff. “There is something that keeps me happy these days. Someone keeps writing me love letters."

There, your secret finally revealed. Jungkook gaped you, as if he didn’t believe it. Honestly, you didn’t either until you made the connection yourself.

He proceeded to ask you details of the discovery, and was shocked himself when you told him of how you thought the person could be someone from high school. It really got him thinking. He named each classmate you’ve ever had an interaction with, but you couldn’t picture any of them having any interest in you.

How did your mystery writer/(lover?) know so much about you? Little details, little quirks. Was he a stalker? But how did he know exactly which books you bought and when?

"Well, maybe you should write something of your own too. Maybe like, in response to how you feel when you read his poems.” The boy suggested, picking the books from the floor, dusting them before putting it in a box next to him.

You mirrored his actions. You pondered over the thought for a while though. Writing to him would be a way to practice your writing that you thought you lost. It was a great idea; you were doing it for yourself. And then if you ever meet this mystery guy, you would show him too.

“Wait, before you leave,” the doe-eyed boy stops your tracks. The books were successfully placed in the box, and you were helping him put it in the sore room when he asks you to wait.

Jungkook walks you toward the end of the room. He picks out a book and shows you the cover. It’s a limited-edition copy of one of your favourite authors of all time, and signed. You wondered what it was doing at the back, when it should be out in front.

“I saved this copy, just for you,” Jungkook’s cheeks blushed a tinge of pink. “I remembered how much you liked his work in school. And I’m willing to give this to you, half the price.”

You ran and hugged Jungkook the tightest hug you had ever given someone in years. He laughed, returning the hug. You felt like the luckiest girl, customer, (whatever!) and you almost felt bad because you had gotten something exclusive for a discount because you knew the employee, anyone else would have paid fortunes for this. You thought about declining, but Jungkook really insisted.

“Don’t think about refusing. I’ll go stamp this before you make your payment,” he says before you could protest.

Really, where had Jungkook been all this time? So much kindness, this boy was brimming with endless love that you thought you didn’t deserve. After a while, he comes out and you hand him the cash.  

As you say your goodbyes and make your leave, Jungkook says “And please don’t cry, wouldn’t want to taint that pretty face, right?”

Something stirred in your heart. You had just started seeing Jungkook as a man, was it now that he started seeing you as a woman? A blush creeps up your neck as you contemplate the thought all the way home.

~*~

You carefully keep the purchase on your bed. Taking out the scraps of love poems from your drawer, you needed to look at your muse before you started writing on your own.

You stretched your hands, pen in hand, ready to recreate wonders when it hit the paper. But you were blank. It’s like your mind had wired out all the imaginations you had kept stored for the last couple of years. You fell flat on your desk, exhaustion over coming you. Had you really lost your touch? Your parents, teachers and friends always praised you for your writing skills, have you let them down? But you weren’t really going to quit this easily.

You looked at your purchase. There must be another poem hidden inside. As if controlled by an entity, you opened the book, flipped the leaves and saw the very page sitting in between the middle pages. You removed the pink rose petals too, your guy never seemed to forget adding them in. You turned the scrap over.

 Today I heard your laugh

Setting my heart in a frenzied trance

The purest sound even the sweetest nightingale could not match

Like fireflies bouncing against thin glass

The most beautiful treasure, I can never have.

 Your eyes watered. It was a poem tinier from the rest, but this one struck something within you. “Like fireflies bouncing against thin glass”, the words feeling sweeter every time you repeated them. You couldn’t believe someone, who was so far from you, could love you this vehemently.

Suddenly, you had found your strength. You were going to write. You were doing this for him. For you.

You picked up the pen and the words just came to you. It was a struggle, but it was a start, you console yourself. You never imagined you would be writing a love letter to someone you had never seen, touched and spoke to, but you didn’t care. Your hands worked away, filling the page in front of you.

But your mind echoed the same mantra over, and over again: I am doing this for us. I am doing this for us. I am doing this for us.

~*~

It's three weeks later that you decide to do an experiment. It's been quite a while since you've been to the store, and the poems stopped coming as well. Work was driving you crazy. You knew sometime in this week you had to drop by the bookstore, so you decided to see if your mystery lover came on the weekdays.

Another employee whom you didn’t know personally and Namjoon were there. Jungkook, of course, was nowhere in sight like you guessed. Namjoon gives you a wave from the register as he speaks to a customer. You knew that you already had too many books, but today was crucial if you wanted to see if your experiment worked out. You could also return the book after you bought it, granted you brought it in after fifteen days. You could buy a book for someone else; your mystery man would never know you were buying it for yourself. Yeah, that’s what you decided do.

You picked up a random title from the shelf and made your way to the counter. The store was mostly empty, except one or two customers. Everybody was busy on a weekday.

As you made your payment, you noticed Namjoon stamping the inside of the book before handing it over to you. The counter was designed in a way so that a person standing a normal distance away couldn’t see what was inside of it. So naturally, your eyes furrowed in confusion.

“Don’t you have to go inside and stamp?” You asked, wondering if Namjoon made the wrong stamp. Even the brightest minds can forget.

“What do you mean? Namjoon looked at as if you had said the most ridiculous thing ever.

"Like whenever Jungkook checks out a book, he goes into the storeroom and stamps? It’s a rule?" You weren’t being sure of what you were saying right now. You sounded like a poor student explaining the concept of rocket physics to a professor.

"Oh, I don't know why he does that, since there's already a stamp here." He holds up a plastic rubber stamp like someone would hold an antique. "And I mean, you could do that, since there are few spare ones in the storeroom, but that’s like extra effort you have to put in. I'm not sure why he does that."

You nodded, kind of silent.

"Does he do that to you or for every customer?"

You realise you never even noticed this. Usually when the store had customers, you were engrossed in reading or looking at books. You never even wondered if Jungkook went to the storeroom to stamp all the books that were purchased. The bookstore would be very crowded during weekends, and the time taken for Jungkook to go and come back usually takes five or ten minutes. Surely, he would’ve taken one of the stamps to the counter itself cause the journey would be too tiring. But you didn’t know for sure what he did for other customers. You slapped yourself in your head for being so ignorant.

You left the store with an uncertainty heavy on your chest.

You return home. Billions of questions bounced from one corner of your mind to another in an intense ping-pong battle. What was worse, when you looked inside the book you bought, there was no poem. No rose petals either.

Could it be that Jungkook knew your mystery guy? Was he the one slipping in the poems when you made your purchase? Did your guy come in the middle of the week and hand Jungkook his writing and leave it up to him to do the favour? Is that why there were no poems or roses today, cause Jungkook wasn’t at work?

You didn’t know. All you knew was that the best way to handle your doubts was to confront Jungkook.

You noticed that you needed to buy groceries for the night. You just had take-out for three days in a row and now the thought of Chinese food made you feel icky. You hit yourself on the head for not buying groceries earlier after you were at at the store. You took your purse and made it in time at the grocery before closing.

Once you were done, you stepped out with your heavy paper bag and saw it was pouring heavily. Pedestrians were already waiting outside the store, hoping the rain would subside soon. Nobody suspected today that it would rain and neither did you.

“Fuck,” you muttered, you didn’t bring an umbrella. The bookstore was just across the grocery. It had a bigger shade, enough to cover seven people from the rain. You silently thanked Namjoon’s choice of constructing the store as you launched yourself across the street.

Jungkook was standing under the shed, looking for something in his bag. You didn’t notice he was there until he called your name.

“Y/N!” his eyes lit up. Desperate, your eyes searched his hands. He was carrying an umbrella. You breathed easier.

“Oh hey,” you say, the rain making it hard for you to be audible. Raindrops pounded against the shed like fists banging a door. “I thought you didn’t work on weekdays?”

“I don’t,” he said. “I was meeting someone here for work.” You nodded, wondering how would bring up the topic of the poems. Maybe you would ask him on Saturday, two days from now. Right at this moment, didn’t seem like the best time.

“Would you mind dropping me off at the subway, though? It’s just near my place,” you knew you sounded desperate, but you needed to get back home. You remembered he had to take the subway to get home too. Jungkook violently nodded his head as he opened his umbrella. You both started walking, shivering slightly at the cold.

"Hey, come closer. Don't want to get your pretty outfit wet," Jungkook huddled you closer to his side, wrapping a hand around your waist for purchase. Your cheeks reddened, maybe at the way the wind whipped your skin or the fact that no one's ever been this near you.

As the space between you and Jungkook closed, you looked at the boy who was always so concerned with your well-being. He had been occupying your thoughts lately. Maybe because of his dorky personality or because he was very smouldering in person, but either ways, your experience of crushes told you that this was the beginning of another infatuation. But you, liking your high school classmate? As much you fantasised him from time to time, you had to resist thinking about it. He maybe had a girlfriend, who knew? Someone as wonderful as him deserved one.  

But in this moment, under the incessant rain where both of you trying to turn his upturned umbrella, Jungkook breaking into bouts of laughter as a car splashed water on your clothes, and you complaining of your matted hair – you felt so happy. The puzzle of the poems was longer a worry to you. All you wanted was to be happy in the moment, with Jungkook.

“So, are you going to give this mystery guy a chance?” Jungkook's voice strained to speak over the rain. Ah, coming to the point. You had been so sure you wouldn’t bring up the topic, but destiny had other plans.

“How am I supposed to give him a chance when I don't know who he is or how he looks like?” You say, uncomfortable at how wet the hem of your jeans was. You were walking at an uncomfortable speed, trying to avoid the puddles in your path but in vain.

“He surely knew what he had to do to get you swoon over him,” Jungkook laughed, as if he was so sure. He was right though, strangely.

“He does have a way with words,” you agreed. The wind was horrible now, pulling your top over your midriff.   "I'm scared cause maybe the day he'll come up to me, I'll look like trash."

"No, you never look like trash. You look pretty in whatever you wear, Y/N." Jungkook scoffed. You blushed again. God, why was it so hard not to blush in front of him? “But you do know what's coming.

“What is?” Honestly your mind had been occupied so much about work, and your anonymous lover than you had no time to think the next Jungkook wanted to say.

“Valentine's Day.”

As soon as you heard it, something in you jolted. Two days from now was Valentine’s Day.

"Do you think he might make his appearance that day?" you asked, your voice high as a sparrow’s chirp. Jungkook offered to hold your grocery bag in return for holding his umbrella. You obliged.

"Can't really say that, but would it make your day if he did?" he continued.

“Oh my god, yes,” you stressed on the word, even slightly a little bit anxious because you wouldn’t know what you did if he came out of nowhere.

“Does someone have butterflies in their stomach now?”

"Stop it.” You nudged an elbow at him. You have no idea what he does to me."

"I do know." He holds his gaze longer this time. The rain finally subdued. You saw something in Jungkook's eyes then, you're not sure what – sadness, hope, expectation? But whatever it was, you felt something reverberate in your ribs long after he tears his gaze away.

"I think this is where we part." You say, brushing the hair from your eyes. You were still holding his umbrella, waiting for the right moment to give it to him.

Jungkook suddenly takes your free hand and squeezes it in his own. "Whatever you do, Y/N, please give that guy a chance. He does seem to really like you." He tucked a hair beside your ear, you shuddered a bit at the cold touch.

Why was Jungkook being so persistent about it? Why was he so serious when it came to you and your mystery lover? Whatever the deal was, Jungkook's expression didn't waver. He was right too, and that strengthened your resolve to accept this stranger no matter who he was. You nodded, which made Jungkook only happier.

"I wish I can see him." You sighed, wondering if Jungkook was thinking what you were thinking.

"Y/N," Jungkook leaned over to whisper in your ear. "Maybe you just need to keep looking around you, because he could be so near to you, but you just don't know it yet."

You still don't understand what the raven-haired stunner meant by his words when he hands you the groceries, leaves without his umbrella and descends the subway stairs.

~*~

It was Saturday. Valentine’s Day.

Jungkook woke up in his one-bedroom apartment, a little shaky. Today was the day.

As he reached over to pick up the backpack he took to work, he unzipped the tiny front pocket. Scraps of paper fell out from the seams, like snowflakes on a wintry morning. The twenty-three-year-old looked at each piece, running his fingers over the love poems his high school-self had written to you. If Jungkook had told his angsty teenage self that someday the poems he had written at the top of his history notebook would be read by you, he would have never believed himself.

Jungkook always liked you.

It wasn’t love at first sight, heck, he didn’t believe in that. He didn’t mind you at first, but he realised what made you so special than the rest. You were strong, maybe not in the vocal way, but in the way you saw the world around you. When the teacher complimented how well you would write your answers, you evocative your poetry was – Jungkook could never imagine how a shy girl, her nose so lost in a book at the corner of class would do that.

So when Jungkook read your answers one day, or when he would sneak a glance at your writing, he felt insecure. The real reason why Jungkook always teased you was that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t write as well you did, put his mind to something that you did so well, to be so intelligent, strong and soft. From you, he understood that strength doesn’t equate to being aggressive, or overly vocal. It can be in the way you can showed kindness as well.

So that’s why started pestering you, to hide his own feelings he could never reveal to anyone.

Jungkook never forgot how even after he teased you repeatedly in class, you would always give him an extra pencil when he wanted one, or a reassuring smile when he was anxious before a test. That was the only limit of his interactions with you, but it was more than enough.

He quickly took notice of you in the most subtle ways. The pencil you wrote with, the way your hair was styled one morning, that blue sweater that was apparently your favourite. How you passed by his seat at the cafeteria every morning to sit with your friends. How opinionated you were about certain authors and their writing styles. Even when Jungkook had to put up his ‘popular boy’ persona, sometimes he would tune out all the meaningless conversations he had just to hear how soft your laugh sounded when your friends showed you something funny.

You quickly became his muse. Jungkook was good at physical activities. He was popular, everyone had expectations from him to go on to college with a football scholarship. Everyone looked up to Jungkook cause made himself look like an idol. But in reality, Jungkook had nothing to show except for a fleeting charisma.  Jungkook was good at physical activities, but not at words.

But you made him fall in love with words. Like everyone else, he was at first impatient at why poets and writers took so long to get to the point. But he learnt from you that art was patience. Love was patience.

He struggled, for weeks, months, trying to get the right words out of him. How he felt for you, how you made him feel. He now realised how hard it was express your feelings in few words. But with some practice, Jungkook eventually got there. He had begun to read more, surprising his parents too, but he eventually loved the activity. It calmed him. Soothed his nerves. Staying up late at night just reading, Jungkook noticed his English answers were improving. When he received the final grade, it wasn’t great. But he was satisfied. His whole gang slapped high-fives with him asking how he cheated his way through the exam successfully. He bit his lower lip, a habit of his, as he shrugged at them in response. The real reason was a pretty girl who always sat in the corner of class.

He kept his proudest pieces of poetry hidden in his bag for so long, secretly thanking you for realising a part of him he never knew existed. He took the bag everywhere with him, serving as his strength. His true, strength.  Not the kind that had him running 20 laps around school and bench press 30 kilos to impress his coach.

He always regarded you as his first love, not Hae-ri, not any of the girls he went out with as a joke. He was sad when he graduated high school, but was too shy to come up and thank you. He regretted not saying anything to you then, knowing life is not one to give second chances.

But when Jungkook saw you in the bookstore for the first time, part of him thought this was fate. His feelings resurfaced, stronger than ever. He still had the scraps of poetry in his bag in the storeroom, he could just retrieve them and slip them into the book you would purchase. Maybe even some roses Namjoon liked to decorate on the inside.

When you slid your book the counter, Jungkook had deliberated the idea. But he knew that everything happens for a reason, so he decided to do it anyway. You would never know who it was, but at least he could tell you how he felt for you in one way. He kept repeating this as many times as you bought something from the store. He loved your company, he felt like the luckiest man in the world. Never had he felt happier when he was talking to you, getting to know the real you.

So that’s why he wanted to reveal himself to you, behold! I’m the writer behind all those poems!

Valentine’s Day would be the perfect opportunity to do so. He just hoped, wished, that you wouldn’t push him away. Or, be disappointed. That was Jungkook’s fear that kept him wide awake at night. Could you have been hoping for someone else? Did you not look at Jungkook the way he looked at you?

He would only know today. He was bracing himself, when he got changed, when he showered, when he raced to the subway and made it sharp at ten am.

Namjoon was already there, smiling at the young boy wondering why his cheeks were so red. Jungkook’s heart never beat that fast. His heart felt like it would be sliced open by a hundred bullets. He quickly put on his apron and pretended to be busy arranging the books on the middle shelves in proper order. It was already an hour when he heard the door open.

Jungkook’s feet almost leapt up when he saw you coming inside. He waved, a bit too much he thought, and took few seconds to gather himself together. He was ready to approach you any moment now. He would take your hands, press them against his chest and say: “Its me, Y/N. I’m the anonymous writer you’re looking for.”

Jungkook edged himself forward. All this time he’d been waiting for this.

Until he sees Namjoon walking up to you first.

~*~

“Y/N,” Namjoon approaches you. You didn’t expect him to be talk to you, since he was always so busy on weekends. He cleared his throat. “I just wanted to say…that you look pretty today.”

“What?” you laugh, nervously. Namjoon calling you pretty? All of a sudden? You never even thought he even looked at you beyond a friend. Yes, he was very good looking, Jungkook must have talked about you to him, hadn’t he? The former always complimented on your appearance, making you smile inwardly. 

“Gosh,” he chuckles in return. “Your laugh really does sound like fireflies bouncing against thin glass.”

You blink twice, hand going right up to your mouth. Namjoon. Wait, Namjoon? So, it had been him all this time? Yes, it all made sense! Only someone as charming, educated and well-mannered as Namjoon fit in all the right pieces of the mystery man you pictured. No wonder the poems had a very loving touch, it was written by someone like him. But how he had he known so much about you? Was it Jungkook who told him all those teeny, insignificant details that you were made of? 

At that moment, you didn't care. All you knew was that Kim Namjoon noticed you. He had noticed you.

You smile at him.

You looked over your shoulder, Jungkook’s face turning to a shade of grey. His seemed frozen in position. You wondered why. You just wanted to jump up and shake him and scream into his face: Jungkook! Namjoon is the one! He’s been the one writing to me!

“I've been meaning to ask, would you like to go out to coffee with me today? It is Valentine’s Day,” he scratches the back of his neck. You take his hands in yours. You nod willingly. You were too excited that all you had was time to point at Namjoon to Jungkook when Namjoon had his back turned to remove his apron.

Jungkook got the message you tried to tell him. He only smiled, but you wondered why it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

~*~

The café shop that you and Namjoon decided on was already swarming with customers, couples mostly. You guys decided to sit outside, a table for two. You were so excited, you were ready to bombard Namjoon with a series of questions, hoping it would give you the insight it needed. You both ordered two lattes and brownies with ice-cream topping.

“I can’t believe you readily agreed to go out with me,” the man before you shrugs modestly. “I mean, I could pass on as your elder brother, right?”

“Um, no, I was so happy that you asked, I…I never imagined, really. I’m really happy you did,” you stuttered, reaching out your arms to touch his. He appreciated the compliment.

“That’s so sweet, Y/N,” Namjoon smiled again, resting the palm of his hand on his cheek, giving you a longing gaze.

“Sweet, just like the poems you wrote for me,” you giggled, waiting to hear just what he would say. You almost choked on the next words.  

“The what?” He blinked. Immediately, you knew you looked stupid. You tried to find your words.

“I said, just the like the poems you wrote for me.”

“I never wrote poems for you, heck, I can't even write poetry, Y/N.” Namjoon sipped on his latte that arrived. Your knees turned rubbery. He was joking right? You continued to insist, but Namjoon just shook his head firmly. 

“I'm serious, I never wrote anything for anyone. Ask all my exes.” He was looking at your curiously now. You did too. Your hands were getting sweaty with nervousness.

“Then why did you say that my laugh sounded like fireflies tinkling against glass?” Exactly your question.

“Cause, I heard Jungkook saying it was.”

Your heart again did a little flip at his name. He was talking about you to Namjoon. But Jungkook was narrating the same line from the last poem you received, how is that possible, granted if he didn’t know the content? Or if, someone had given him the poem in the first place and he just happened to see it? A streak of anger went up your body when you thought of Jungkook intruding on your privacy.

“If...if, you didn't write these poems, then who did?” You searched your bag, taking out the poems that you kept in your wallet. You laid them out, one by one, on the table. There were many of them, but Namjoon scrutinised each piece closely. His eyes darted from one end to another, eyebrows furrowed in confusion suggesting he was in deep thought. Namjoon squinted at the scribbly, childish scrawls on the scraps and suddenly his brain clicked.

“This seems a lot like the poems Jungkook showed me, you know.”

You looked up shocked, your heart feeling like it was dropped from a height. Jungkook writes poems? You knew he read often; you didn’t know he wrote too. Did he have the time to? When did he start writing? All these questions made your head feel like it was stuffed with cotton.

Namjoon noticed your silence. “I know,” he laughs. “Seems weird right? He doesn’t seem like it, but that boy does have some talent in the writing department. He says it calms him somehow.”

“Do you keep roses in the store room, Namjoon?” You said, not looking at him. Your voice almost sounded robotic.

“I do, to brighten up the space there. Although I realised on the days you would come, there would always be one rose less the last time I counted them.”

Do you think...?

Suddenly, your brain had connected the dots. You shouldn't have judged Namjoon so quickly. All the times you remembered, Jungkook mentioned going to the storeroom to stamp the books you purchased. There was actually a stamp right there in the counter, but he never failed to go inside the storeroom instead. Maybe he slipped in the poems and the roses then?

And the handwriting. You remember going through Jungkook's essays in high school when you tried to help him out, even a bit. You remembered how bad his handwriting was.

But Jungkook, writing poems for you? You admit you did feel a soft spot for Jungkook albeit your sour history with him in high school, but soon you realised he's so much more than his shy demeanour. Yes, your assumption on Namjoon being your mystery writer overlooked all the clues, and you wished you thought more thoroughly. Now, because of your impulsive decision-making skills, you landed up in this awkward situation with Namjoon.  

Jungkook was the one writing poems for you. Only he could notice those habits you had possessed in school, he was your classmate for fuck’s sake! All those years that you hated him for being mean to you, he was crushing on you instead? How, why?

But then you understood. You liked Jungkook. Ever since the first poem. He became such a beautiful writer, with all the delicate details he noticed about you. So, there was meaning behind him calling you special. There was meaning when he looked at you for a few seconds longer. There was meaning in his smile, in his actions, in his concern. There was meaning in every little thing he did because he liked you, and still likes you. And you liked him too.

Why had he resisted the ache in his heart to come forward and tell you the truth about who the person behind the poems was?

You put back the poems and muttered several apologies to Namjoon before you fled the scene, your mind rehearsing exactly what to tell Jungkook the first thing you meet him.

~*~

You barged inside the familiar bookstore, the cold air from the air-conditioner hitting you smack in the face. There were no customers, it was Valentine’s Day you remind yourself. Jungkook was busy cleaning up the bar, a solemn look colouring his usually bright face.

He looked a bit startled when he saw you open the door, as if he didn't expect you to enter at this hour.

“Y/N! How was your date?” He faked enthusiasm. You marched up to him and slammed the poems down on the counter.

“You could have told me, you know. The worst I could do was to storm off,” You crossed your arms, this time not as a defence mechanism.

“What are you talking about?” He wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at the poems now. How long was he going to keep up this act?

“Disappearing to stamp my book? The horrible handwriting? The intricate details about how I was in school? Sounds like only someone who knew me, or observed me very well, would know.” You said, tone a bit lighter. “I'm not dumb, Kook.”

There was a slight pause on Jungkook’s end before he speaks. “Took you this long to find out, though.”

You grinned. “You’re a coward.” You leaned forward, slightly kissing him on the lips. He responds, smiling, taking his hand to cup you on the cheek. It’s awkward at first, but his lips were just the right amount of soft and yours. Suddenly, Namjoon, your temporary crush on Changmin, disappear. The moment is magical as you lock both arms around Jungkook’s neck as he kisses you excitedly. Sparks fly between both your bodies.

You break away from the kiss. “You say big words in your poems, yet you can't muster up the courage to confess to the girl you like?”

“I thought…you and Namjoon hyung...” Jungkook’s cheeks are flushed crimson, as he eyes the floor in attempt to hide his evident embarrassment.

“Which wouldn't have happened if you confessed to me earlier.” You rolled your eyes, baffled that he didn’t speak up when he should have. “Do you know how awkward it was, realising you were the one behind the poems and not Namjoon?”

“Oh my god, did you leave him there all alone?” He tried to suppress a small laugh. “So, do you like me now?”

“We just kissed, Jungkook.” You punched him. “But yes, I have liked you ever since I read your poem the first time. And your writing is just…wow.”

“I try,” He did that thing again where he rubbed the back of his neck when he got shy. “Only for the girl I always had a crush on.”

“And you succeeded.” Throwing your hands over his neck again, nuzzling your nose against his, you felt the comfort, the same one whenever you were around Jungkook, slowly making it way from your legs to your arms.

“Valentine's Day is not over yet, shall we go out?” You nodded at Jungkook’s suggestion as you both made your way out the store, no customers projected to come anyway.

Hand in hand, you realised that fairy tales with happy endings did exist. Except for princes, dragons and villains – your story had roses, poetry and Jeon Jungkook, your enigmatic writer in hidden notebook scraps, whom you loved with all your heart.

[therealvalkyrie]

Painter’s Hands and Guatemalan Coffee: Part 1

on the inevitability of dating a frat bro

Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, modern!college!AU

Summary: When you catch your idiot boyfriend cheating, your grumpy roommate is there to pick up the pieces and watch your back as you toe a carefully drawn line in the metaphorical sand

Word Count: 5.0k

Warnings: light angst, fluff, cheating, alcohol, swearing, minor injury

AN: So!! I am REALLY excited about this fic, but it’s the first AOT piece I’ve ever written and the first piece I’ve posted at all in a WHILE. As of now, it can stand on its own as a mainly platonic/unrequited Levi x reader, but I have big ideas for potential expansion in the future! Please don’t hesitate to reblog/comment/send in an ask with any suggestions, questions, or feedback!! ~valkyrie

Palms slap flat against the door of your apartment as you stumble the last few steps, barely catching yourself before your right ankle twists out from under you. Sharp pain shoots up your leg, and you know it’s gonna hurt like a motherfucker in the morning.

“Shitshitfuck ow,” you slur as you slide to the ground, back to the wall, short skirt bunching dangerously high on your thigh. Fumbling fingers go to the ankle strap of your right stiletto and pull fruitlessly on the ties. With a whine, you curse the forethought  you had to double knot the thin cord when you were getting ready to go out earlier in the evening. Your tongue sits heavy and dry in your mouth as you lean your head back against the wall and press palms against your eyes until stars swim into your vision.

How the fuck did I end up here? you think with a soft hiccup, and all of a sudden you’re crying again.

As you sit in your apartment hallway, drunk and distraught and slowly freezing from the outside in, you recall the events of the night. Getting ready with Hange for girls’ night, meeting up with Sasha and Hitch at the new bar across town. Downing shots and cocktails until the worries of the week melted away, dancing until your feet ached and your eyes stung. Seeing your boyfriend across the dance floor making out with another woman. Correction, seeing your boyfriend making out with your best friend. Correction, seeing your ex-boyfriend practically fucking your former best friend in the middle of the goddamned club-

With that image freshly burned into your mind, you let out a gut-wrenching sob followed by a tremendous sniffle just as the apartment door opens.

--

A soft thump echoing through the apartment jerks Levi out of his light sleep. It takes him a second to remember you went out to your girls’ night, glancing over at his alarm clock. 2:17 am, sounds about right.

He rolls over and readjusts his sheets around him, determined to go back to sleep. It’s not uncommon for you to spend your weekend out with friends all night, and he learned a while ago that you’re perfectly capable of getting yourself showered and into bed after a night out. That’s one of the things Levi likes about living with you: you generally know how to stay out of his hair, and he doesn’t find himself caught up in yours.

When Hange had introduced you to him at the end of last semester as a potential roommate, he had been hesitant. In his book, anyone Hange approved of was bound to be at least slightly off their rocker, but he had been hoping to sign a lease for the next school year before leaving town, and after meeting you he felt willing to take a chance. He told himself it was because of your stellar recommendations from former roommates and respectable credit score, but the smallest part of his mind admitted it was also because of your pretty hands and intelligent eyes. 

That day at his favorite tea shop when you had met up to sign the lease, he had asked you about your major and you had practically lit up with the way you spoke about the architecture degree you were pursuing. The pair of you had chatted all afternoon, discussing books and comparing experiences with professors in the art department. When you learned he was in the painting program at your university, you had grabbed one of his hands off the table in both of yours and examined it closely.

“You have painter’s hands,” you had proclaimed after a moment, turning his hand in yours and tracing the cracks in his palm lightly. “Just like my mom’s.”

Levi had simply sat there, stunned at how such a small gesture made his heart race and neck grow warm.

With a groan, Levi rolls back over in an effort to shake himself out of his turbulent thoughts. 2:19 glows green at him from his bedside table, and suddenly he’s struck with the realization that he hasn’t heard you actually come into the apartment, let alone close your bedroom door with your habitual sharp snap.

“Damn it to hell,” he mutters as he flicks on a beside lamp and stuffs feet into slippers. Careful to avoid knocking over the painting set to dry on the easel by his desk, he opens his bedroom door and hears the muffled sound of sobbing from the front door.

--

Levi stands in the doorframe in sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, poking his head out into the hall. For a moment, he can only stare. He’s never seen you like this before, utterly dejected, scatter-brained, small, so unlike the confident woman in the tea shop.

“You look like shit,” he says plainly, the barest hint of concern in his voice.

You keep your eyes downcast and weakly flip him off,  continuing to sob gently. At the lack of your usual backtalk, his expression slips from his usual impassivity to a sharp frown.

A delicate hand encircles your upheld wrist and you let it go limp in Levi’s grip as he crouches down next to you.

“Hey, hey, what happened? Are you hurt? Why are you crying?” His calm tone helps you focus your mind, and you manage to hiccup a response.

“G-god I’m an idiot,” you sniffle, and raise your eyes to barely meet his. His head is ducked to your level, and he’s crouching on the balls of his feet, one hand gripping your limp wrist and the other hesitantly reaching for your shoulder. “Just leave me out here to w-wallow, or better yet take me out with the t-trash, that’s obviously all I-I am,” you gesture vaguely at yourself.

“Did someone tell you that? That you’re trash?” Levi asks sharply, dipping his head with yours in an effort to maintain eye contact. 

Your bottom lip trembles and you sniffle again. Just under the delicate white noise of life, Levi can hear his heart break cleanly in two.

“It was more implied,” you supply weakly.

Levi sighs, then drops his hands and straightens up. 

“Alright, up you get.” He extends his hand, and you stare at it for a second before adjusting your bag on your shoulder and gripping his warm hand with your freezing one. A solid pull later, you find yourself balancing in your heels, Levi’s hand gripping your elbow and the other around your waist. You mumble a thanks, and attempt a step on your right foot towards the door. The traitorous ankle buckles again and you cry out as you stumble once more. But this time Levi’s there to catch you against his chest, now fully supporting you at the waist.

“Ah, I forgot,” you mutter into his shoulder.

“Tch,” he clicks, gently chastising, and in a second he’s scooped an arm under your knees to carry you into the apartment. Vaguely, you wonder at how coordinated he is as he kicks the door shut and nudges the light switch with his elbow. Pretty buff for an art major, you muse, with your head laying against his chest and arms looped around his neck. How pathetic is this, can’t even walk into my own home.

He nudges his way into your room and casts his gaze around in the ambient glow of your desk lamp. You can tell he’s holding himself back from commenting on the clothes strewn across the extra chair by your closet and the lipstick-stained coffee cup sat atop a pile of textbooks on your desk, and you look down in embarrassment. There’s a reason you keep your door closed most of the time. Despite the mess, he successfully navigates across to your bed and gently puts you down, arranging your pillows behind you to support your back before disappearing into the living room again.

You take a moment to wipe at your eyes, sigh self-pityingly, and slouch down into your soft bed, not caring that you’re still fully dressed. Not only did you catch your boyfriend cheating, but you managed to wake up your (usually grumpy) roommate, reveal to him how messy you actually were, and injure yourself in the space of half an hour. Just about a record.

The shrill ringing of your phone breaks into the silence. As you’re digging through your purse to pull it out, you remember with a sinking feeling that you didn’t even tell the girls you were leaving the club, let alone what happened. You slide a shaky finger across the screen to accept the call and put it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Uhm, hello? Where the fuck are you?” Hange’s loud voice makes you wince and hold the phone slightly away from your face.

“Oh god, I’m sorry Hange, I went home. S-something happened and I, well I just called an Uber and didn’t even think,” you finish lamely.

“What happened? Did you get home safe? Did someone hurt you? I swear to god-”

“Hange, I-”

“-rat bastard bartender was eyeing you all night I could’ve guessed he’d try something-”

“Hange!” She stops short and allows you to speak. “I got home safe. Levi’s here. I’m not hurt, the bartender didn’t try anything, I… I’ll tell you everything tomorrow, okay?” You inject your tone with some bright optimism in an effort to assuage her panic. “Tell Sasha and Hitch not to worry, okay?”

Over her momentary silence on the other end of the line, you can hear traffic sounds and faint club music, as though she had stepped outside to call you. A strained sigh, then: “Okay. I’m glad you’re okay, but I’m still mad at you for not checking in before you left. Had me worried sick.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I’d be mad too. Can you swing by tomorrow? And I’ll explain everything?” Your hand rubs down your face and you close your eyes in a guilty grimace.

“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” The call ends and you drop your phone down onto your bed where it bounces gently away from you. 

When you open your eyes again, Levi is standing in the door holding a cup of tea, his other hand cupped around something, studying you with uncertainty. You sit up hesitantly against your headboard, surprised. You’d figured he went back to bed and left you to put yourself to bed as you usually did.

He crosses the room with his smooth gait, and in a moment, you feel two ibuprofen pressed into your palm and the mug of tea nudged into your other hand, your roommate gently prompting you to drink. He watches as you pop the pills and take a slow sip of the tea, smiling faintly when you recognize that it’s chamomile.

“Good.” He takes the mug and sets it aside on your bedside table. Pulling your desk chair up to the side of your bed, he sits, and leans over towards your feet.

His light fingers start to work on the knots in the ties of your shoes, and you can feel his voice rumble lightly as he says, “What happened, kid?”

You huff a laugh at the pet name, then consider where to begin. You decide straightforward is the best approach with someone like Levi.

“I saw Reiner and Annie at the club, sucking face in the middle of the dance floor. I thought he was at some quote unquote frat thing and she insisted she couldn’t come out to girls’ night because of some stupid group project. They didn’t even see me, I just turned around and left before I knew what I was doing. And poor Bertholdt, he probably has no clue what Annie’s been up to.” You take a shuddering breath and let out a choked sob, trying to stop the waterworks and unable to keep them at bay. “God, I’m such a spineless coward.”

“Hey.” Levi’s sharp tone startles your teary gaze to meet his eyes, which look practically murderous. He leans over to grasp your shoulders, warm hands scorching cool skin. “You are not a spineless coward. He is the goddamned spineless foolish bastard, and if I ever see his ugly mug I will wreck it so bad his own mother won’t be able to identify the body. As a matter of fact, that goes for Annie, too. Are we clear?”

You blink in shock before fully registering his words and nodding slowly. “Crystal.” Levi looks the most angry you’ve ever seen him, brow furrowed and mouth set determinedly.

“Good.” He returns his attention to your ankle. While you were talking, he had successfully untied and slipped your shoes off your swollen feet. “Now, let’s see what’s going on with your weak-ass foot.”

He spends a good minute poking and prodding and turning your ankle every which way in his grasp. “Does this hurt?” and “What about this way?” are answered with soft “no”s or a wince and a “yes”. His hands are practiced and intentional, and you briefly wonder how much experience he has with treating injuries. After a last gentle prod, he sets your foot back down on the bed.

“Well, it’s definitely not broken. It is swelling, though, and probably sprained. I’ll go see if we have an ace bandage or something.” He stands and moves to leave, but before he can get too far you gently grasp his forearm.

“Thank you, Levi.” Your voice is soft and sincere as you look up at him through curled and mascaraed eyelashes. “Thanks for picking me up off the floor and listening and taking care of me.”

Levi studies your tired face for a moment. The trails of mascara down your cheeks, a stray piece of glitter sitting on your cheekbone, lipgloss smudged on the left side. It seems as though his hand moves on its own, reaching out to stroke your cheek lightly, thumb gently brushing away the escaped glitter. He doesn’t miss the way your lashes flutter as you subconsciously lean into his touch. Finally, he tousles your hair with a hint of tenderness in his eyes.

“Tch. Don’t worry about it, kid.”

“I’m barely younger than you!”

“Whatever, brat.”

--

Levi is sitting at the kitchen table nursing a cup of tea and hunched over his laptop when you step out of your room late the next morning. Freshly showered, your hair curls delicately over your shoulders and the scent of peppermint body wash reaches his nose. He studies you for a moment. You’re wearing a loose sleep shirt, cotton shorts, and an oversized cardigan, and he can see where the ace bandage he found last night pokes out from under your fuzzy socks. Clearly, you’re planning to stay in today.

“G’morning,” you murmur, passing behind him to get to the kitchen. Your roommate grunts a greeting in response and takes a sip of tea in his odd overhanded way. You start your coffee routine, reaching for the French press and coffee grounds from a shelf and setting the kettle to boil on the stove. It’s grounding to go through the motions of a daily ritual after the emotional turmoil of last night. Or rather, the emotional turmoil of this morning. It had been hard to drag yourself out of bed before noon, and harder still not to crawl back into your warm sheets after a scalding shower. You steel yourself for the inevitable conversation as you measure out grounds, then finally turn and hop up to sit on the counter facing Levi when the only thing left to do is to wait for the coffee to brew.

“Sooooo,” you start in a long, drawn out syllable, leaning back on your hands.

His hands still on the keyboard and a quiet tension fills Levi’s shoulders before he turns his body fully towards you, resting a hand on the back of his chair. He doesn’t say a word, but his eyes are softer than they usually are when you interrupt his studying.

You take a deep breath. 

“So, uh, last night I was kind of a wreck and you were really sweet, and I just wanted to say thank you again and I’m sorry you had to witness that.” It’s said in a rush, and by some miracle you manage to maintain eye contact.

“Like I said, don’t worry about it. That’s what friends are for.” 

“I know, I know, I just-- it felt really nice to have someone, y’know, there after what, uhm, after what happened and I really was a mess I mean I must’ve looked so gross and I woke you up at like what? Two am? And you were just so steady and kind and I mean you even tucked me into bed for God’s sake--” you ramble on, the words falling over each other in your awkwardness. God, you idiot don’t you know when to shut the fuck up?? “--and I know how much you like it to be quiet at night and I really do try to--” 

Levi cuts you off when he stands fluidly from his seat and crosses the kitchen in two strides, entering your space and placing his hand over your mouth in the same motion. You look at him with wide eyes, suddenly breathing very oddly. The clean smell of paint thinner and black tea simultaneously clouds and calms your mind.

A beat, then: “Brat. Stop rambling, you’re welcome.” You study each others’ faces. Levi’s eyes are stern and steady as he looks up at you through elegantly disheveled bangs. To Levi, you look like a deer caught in headlights, all surprised eyes and warm cheeks. After a charged moment, he lets his hand drop and takes the smallest step backwards.

It takes your brain a second to reboot, then you’re fumbling over your words again. “Okay. Well, uhmm. Okay.”

“How’s your foot?” He glances down at the foot in question as if to check it’s still there, then back at you.

“It’s okay. Still hurts to walk on but I can handle it,” you manage to breathe out with the air left in your lungs.

“Good.” He nods once, then turns and sits back down at his laptop. He hears you huff half an incredulous laugh and slide down from the counter to pour your coffee. A shake of the head and a sip of tea later, his mind slips back into essay mode and away from the woman drilling holes in the back of his head with curious eyes.

--

“Hey baby!” You hear Reiner’s voice from the door as he pushes through it with his usual boisterousness. From your position at the kitchen table in front of your laptop, your back is to him and you allow yourself a moment to press your nails into the palm of your hand and steel your nerves before plastering a smile on your face. You stand up and turn to greet him, limping to meet him halfway from the door.

“Hey babe, come on in!” 

He winds an arm around your waist and pulls you in to peck you on the lips as usual, but you manage to subtly turn your head so it lands on your cheek instead. With the flash of an innocent smile as a coverup, you step out of his arms and make your way into the kitchen to set the kettle for coffee. “So, uh, how was your frat thing?”

He follows close behind you, completely oblivious, and cages you in with your back against the counter after you’re done at the stove. “Eh, it was alright. Got some new pledges, you know how it is.” He grins in the cocky way you fell for and leans farther into your space. You give a giggle and rest gentle hands on his chest, keeping him at a distance while feigning affection.

“Oh, sure. Busy night of fun, I’m sure.” Your tone is sickly sweet and you mentally grimace at yourself to take it down a notch. 

Fiddling absentmindedly with the collar of his shirt, you take a moment to mourn your relationship. While it’s about to end swiftly and brutally, you know that you will miss the security and warmth you had with Reiner in the beginning. You finally lean in to lay your head on his chest one last time, and your heart aches at the way he tenderly rests his chin on top of your head. The moment is broken by the kettle beginning to whistle and you gently push him away to go turn it off.

“How’re Hange and the girls?” He leans himself against the counter and watches as you bustle around the kitchen, preparing coffee as you usually do when he comes over. It’s one of the things the pair of you had initially bonded over, trying new beans and methods of brewing nearly every week. Recently, you had been using Guatemalan beans with notes of peach and candied almonds, a birthday gift from the cheating boyfriend himself.

As you measure out grounds into the French press, you maintain a cheerful disposition. This is it, you think. Don’t back down now.

“They’re doing great, we had so much fun! We went to that new bar on Oakland Street, I think it’s called like Stevie’s?” Of course it’s called Stevie’s, it had been all anyone could talk about since the new bar opened earlier in the semester.

“Oh, yeah, uhm I’ve heard good things, good things….” His voice has a nervous edge to it, and a glance in his direction confirms that he’s awkwardly rubbing his neck as he usually does when he has something to hide. 

You push on: “Yeah! I think you would totally love it! Very much your vibe. Anyway, we got absolutely plastered, to be honest I’m not even sure I remember how much I had to drink.” A pause for dramatic effect accompanied by a ditzy laugh. “But y’know, I do remember seeing one thing.” You carefully bloom the grounds before pouring the rest of the water in, focusing your gaze away from Reiner in order to keep your cool.

“Oh?”

You casually set the chicken shaped kitchen timer on the fridge to four minutes and adopt a thoughtful tone. “Yeah, I saw Annie there. Which was odd, because she told me that she had this huge group project to be working on. Guess she finished early. Oh, and you know what else I saw?”

“W-what?” A sharp turn away from the fridge reveals his increasingly nervous face to you

“I saw you there, too! Maybe you got so drunk at the “frat thing” you just don’t remember going, how funny is that?” You keep your voice light but find yourself unable to maintain a smile, your expression slipping into somewhere in between hurt and determined.

He shifts awkwardly on his feet and looks anywhere but your face, hand still rubbing the back of his neck. “Ahaha, really? Are you sure it was me, becau--”

“Oh, it was you. And do you know what you were doing?” This time, your voice is icier than the sidewalk in February after a week of sleet, causing his body to still and face to fall.

“N-no…” It’s almost pitiful how quiet he is now that his usually confident demeanor is shaken.

“You were kissing Annie. Which is funny, considering you both are in relationships.” The statement hangs in the air and you stare steadily into his eyes. You make it a point to regulate your breathing and blink back the first tears beginning to pool.

After another charged split second, your idiot ex-boyfriend decides on the worst path: badly gaslighting you into thinking it wasn’t him.

“I uhm, I was uh, are you sure? It couldn’t have been A-Annie-- I mean uhm, me, uh, ahaha, if it was, that’s so funny…” He stumbles over his words, only trailing off in defeat when you hold up a hand to silence him.

“Save it, Reiner. I already had a breakdown last night, I’m not particularly in the mood to deal with yours.” You limp over to the table and pull out a chair to reveal the cardboard box of his things you had packed up that morning. “Here’s your stuff, now get the hell out and stay the fuck away from me. Maybe go grovel to Bertholdt and see if you can salvage that relationship.” Your hand trembles as you point at the box and then the door and your lip quivers with the effort of not crying.

Reiner evidently sees the vulnerability in your eyes and decides to grasp at a few last straws, adopting a pleading mien, complete with sad smile and innocent eyes. He moves towards you slowly, as though approaching a wounded animal, and reaches out to lay a hand on your shoulder. “Aww, come on, baby, it wasn’t like that, it was just a heat of the moment thing, I didn’t mean--”

“Didn’t mean what?” Facade finally breaking, all you can muster up is a furious, cracked whisper and angry tears. “Didn’t mean to stick your tongue down my best friend’s throat? Didn’t mean to practically fuck your best friend’s girlfriend in public?”

“No, I mean, yes, but I, aw, c’mon sweetheart,” he admonishes, cautiously reaching out to wipe away your tears. You cringe away, but before he can touch you his arm is ripped away and he’s stumbling back with a shocked expression.

“I believe the lady told you to get the fuck out.” Levi’s standing in front of you out of nowhere, hands eerily still at his side. Evidently, he had come back from the store smack in the middle of The Dumpening, and a glance towards the entryway confirms there are grocery bags discarded haphazardly on the floor. Turning your attention back to the men in your kitchen, you see Reiner’s face has rapidly shifted from surprised to angry. He’s caught himself against the counter, breathing hard, eyes flicking from your teary eyes to Levi.

“Hey, this isn’t any of your fuckin’ business, buddy,” Reiner drawls, confident as he straightens up to his full height. He practically towers over Levi, the shortest of the three of you, and you can tell he’s already estimating your roommate to be an easy fight should it come down to that. Sharp panic enters your chest at the thought of a fight breaking out, and your hand flinches out to grasp Levi’s jacket sleeve desperately. You’ve seen Reiner in a couple bar fights, and even drunk he’s a force to be reckoned with.

He doesn’t acknowledge your touch, instead injecting a quiet venom into his usually dispassionate tone. “You made it my fuckin’ business when you touched my roommate without her permission in my home.”

The taller man opens his mouth to retort, but you beat him to the punch: “Reiner, just go. I want you to leave.” Some mettle has returned to your voice and you force obstinate lungs to take a deep breath. “Please take your stuff and go.”

Eye contact with Reiner usually makes you feel warm and safe and in love, both of you prone to wearing your heart on your sleeve. This time the experience is sullied by conflicting anger and hurt and guilt written across his face, filling your already aching heart with an unshakeable leaden weight.

He inhales sharply, then speaks in a much more uncertain voice. “Is this really what you want?”

Your mouth quirks to the side in an effort to quell more tears. “Yes, this is really what I want.”

The fight slumps out of his body, shoulders rounding imperceptibly, and he holds up his hands in defeat. He crosses to the cardboard box of his things sitting on the kitchen chair. You don’t miss the way Levi casually keeps his body between you and Reiner, staring him down as he moves towards the pair of you. Your grip hasn’t slackened on Levi’s jacket, and at this point you can’t distinguish if it’s to stop him from doing something stupid or simply to have something to hold onto.

Reiner hoists the box into his arms and turns his head towards you once more.

“Goodbye,” his voice cracks on your name and you tear your eyes away in favor of staring at the linoleum kitchen floor.

The front door clicks shut.

You finally drop your hand from Levi’s sleeve, sink slowly into the chair behind you, and bury your face in your hands. The dull aching of your heart seems to seep through the rest of your body until your limbs are heavy, ankle throbbing from standing on it for too long.

You hear Levi’s retreating footsteps towards the door, the shunk of the lock slipping into place, and the crinkle of plastic grocery bags as he picks them up off the floor. He works in silence putting the food away, giving you space to collect your scattered self. When his task is complete, he joins you at the table, sitting in the chair which had previously been occupied by Reiner’s box. 

When the chicken timer rings, he calmly shuts it off and returns to sit by you. 

When his cell phone dings with a text notification, he deftly sets it to “Do Not Disturb” and returns to keeping you company.

When you finally meet his eyes, it looks like you’ve aged a year.

“You all right?”

“Been better.”

“At least this time you’re sober.”

“Pfft,” you scoff. “Wish I wasn’t.”

“On that note, I got wine and cheese at the store. The “perfect break up cure”, in your own words.” His tone is dry, but his mouth is slightly quirked at the side. “And I saw that Pride and Prejudice is streaming on Netflix.”

His thoughtfulness chips into your melancholy, and you hazard a watery smile. “Aw Levi, you didn’t have to do that.” With that, you lean over and pull him into a warm hug, arms around his neck and chin hooked over his shoulder. He hesitantly puts his own arms around you and pats your back awkwardly.

“Really, it’s no--”

“Oh, shut up and let me be grateful for you.”

--

(read Part 1.5 here)

[glitxhwayventeen]

Lonely Hearts Club

Seokmin: Chapter 2 (The Heart Wants What It Wants)

Characters: Seokmin x female reader

Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), bondage (sort of anyways?), pet names, creampie, squirting, dirty talk, angst, fluff, potential blood mentions, genocide mentions, mental illness (depression implied), sexual mentions, mentions of death, violence mentions. Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written.

Author’s Note: I had the thought to use the song The Heart Wants What It Wants by Selena Gomez for this chapter. Don’t ask me why. I just did. And I’m too sick to change it so here it is.

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts

Slight 🥀 but mostly just pure 💋tbh

Lonely Hearts Club Master Club

Chapter 2: The Heart Wants What It Wants

“Come on Sol! Hurry up! By the time we get there it’ll be dark!” Seokmin complained to the younger wolf, wanting to reach their destination as quickly as possible.

“Aya! I’m moving as fast as I can. You ever think that maybe you’re just a little TOO excited to go see her?” Hansol smirked as he sped up his movements slightly to appease his brother.

It was true, they both knew it. Hell, at this point, Seokmin was sure you’d even realize that he had been counting the seconds before he could come see you again. It had been five days. FIVE DAYS. He felt like he was going crazy without you. His pack tried to cheer him up as best as they could, Jihoon even asked if he wanted to wrestle around outside with him, something Jihoon had hated more than anything. But still, he wanted to do nothing other than sit in front of the window and wait the minutes out till he could see your beautiful face again. Since he met you, he’s never wanted anything more than to spend time with you. And you being gone… well that made it impossible. So you could say he was just a TAD too eager to get back to you…

“Shut up and just- just hurry up would you!” Seokmin growled, slightly out of annoyance that the younger wolf was taunting him and slightly because he had been taking away his newly promised time with you.

It was bad enough he had him carry all the supplies he needed in his backpack, now he was slowing him down too. It was exhausting.

“Geez, you sure are grumpy now. What’s gotten a mate done to you hyung?” Hansol chuckled gently while poking fun at his brother innocently, knowing full well that he was actually being quite tame compared to what most mated wolves would’ve done without seeing their significant other for as long as he had.

“Nothing! I just- I just want to see her is all! You don’t understand. You don’t have a mate yet!” Seokmin groaned while hiking his way up the start of the mountain your cave was located in. He didn’t even have to try to remember how to get there like Hansol did, he could sense you, it was one of the reasons he agreed to bring him along even though he knew it was most likely annoy you.

“Pfff. You’ve had a mate all of five minutes and you’re already acting like you’re a love expert. You’re a piece of work you know that? I didn’t even have to let you come with me today. I fought with Seungcheol Hyung to get him to let you tag along. Don’t make me regret it yeah?” Hansol rolled his eyes, trudging along right behind his older impatient brother. He felt for him, he really did. He couldn’t imagine what he’d do in his situation, but he wasn’t about to let Seokmin be a dick to him just because he hasn’t seen you in a week. Surely it couldn’t be THAT hard for him to be less of an asshole.

“Look- I’m sorry okay? I just…” Seokmin halted his actions of climbing up a rocky trail before he turned to his friend, “Its bad enough she doesn’t love me. But with her not loving me AND being gone for almost a week, it feels like- like all my insides have been scooped out and… and I can’t find them anymore. I feel like an empty shell.” He continued, “But I know that if I could just- if I could just see her again, all of it would just heal over and I’d be happy to wake up in the morning again. So I NEED to see her, okay?” Seokmin gripped his hair tightly, partly in frustration and partially in defeat.

He wasn’t even sure what would happen when you’d see him again. You could really just slap him and tell him you never wanted him in your presence again. But he HAD to try, he NEEDED to smell your sweet scent again. He HAD to look at your angelic face again. He felt like he was gonna explode if he didn’t.

“I don’t know what’ll happened if I don’t. And trust me when I say, you don’t want to find out.” He finished as he started his trekking back up, leaving his brother taken aback by his sudden exposed fragility.

“It’s okay. I get it, I mean, I may not have a mate, but I’m not an idiot. We can all see how it’s killing you not to be around her man. She’ll come around. Don’t worry. It all just takes some time. Especially after everything that’s happened to her.” Hansol assured as he sat his hand on Seokmin’s shoulder in a comforting manner, causing the older wolf to smile at him in gratitude.

“Thanks Sol. I hope you’re right. Because I’m gonna start worrying for my sanity if so have to wait much-” Seokmin suddenly stopped speaking mid-sentence once he sensed that something was… different about you as they had gotten close enough to your den for him to feel you.

“Hyung? You good? Is everything alright-” Hansol tried while waving his hand in front of his brother’s zoned out face.

Seokmin quickly grabbed his hand and pushed it away before growling, “You need to leave.”

“Leave? What do you mean leave? We have to check on (Y/N) remember?” Hansol laughed aloud, attempting to start his walking back up.

Seokmin wraps his hand around Hansol’s wrist and spun him around to look at him.

“No. I’ll check on her. You need to go back to the house and make sure no one else comes up here. Got it?” He lets out, tightening his grip on the young boys arm without even realizing it.

“Seokmin, what the hell? Why on Earth would I do that? I have to help her-” Hansol tried to reason and attempted to break the hold he had on his wrist.

When Hansol met Seokmin’s eyes, he could see that they had turned blood red. He jumped back slightly, startled at his brother’s sudden mood shift.

“No. I’m the only one that’s allowed to help her the way she is. You need to leave. Now.” He growled as he released his hand from Hansol’s limb and started to continue walking to your den.

“And DON’T wait up for me.” He declared to the younger wolf, leaving him standing there stunned in his spot as he watched him stomp up towards the cave’s opening.

-

You had been pulling and pulling to no avail. You needed out. You felt like you were a living flame that needed to be put out. You moved your hips a little too quickly one way, causing a small whimper to emit from your lips. You were too fucking sensitive. Everything hurt.

“And you didn’t think to tell me that this-” Seokmin surprised you as he gestured around your cave, “Was your important business?” He chuckled out as he knelt down beside you.

Before he walked into your cave, he could already feel the change in your energy, he wasn’t sure what it was exactly. But he just knew he didn’t want ANYONE ELSE but him to see you in your current state. Red flags went off in his head the second Hansol stepped even one foot too close to the vicinity of your cave. He got territorial without even knowing why he didn’t want anyone else around you.

Now that he had actually entered your cave, he understood why. You were against the farthest rock wall from the opening. You were wearing nothing but your small green tank top and a pair of lacy panties. Your hair was damp against your skin, your lips were chapped, and you had a thin layer of sweat adorned on your glowing skin. You were growling out in frustration. Chains laid above your head, your wrists tightly held in place as you winced in pain. Not from trying to get out of your restraints, but from the obvious discomfort between your legs. Your panties had, at this point, been completely soaked through, the wetness clear to anyone who would have dared to witness your display.

That’s when he understood why you had been trying so hard to get away from him: you were in heat. You needed to run away so you wouldn’t go crazy around his pack. So you came back to your den to ride it out. Alone. Even though you had a mate.

“I thought you would’ve figured it out by now” you respond, lolling your head to the side from exhaustion with a seductive smirk on your face. Heat was truly fucking horrible chained to a wall. And now that Seokmin was here, it was like the Gods had finally answered your prayers for release. You HAD to have him and you had to have him right then and there.

“Help me- Please!” you whined out, tugging on your chains hard hoping he would get what you were hinting at.

“I don’t think taking them off you is a good idea. Who knows what you’d do” Seokmin replied before he took off his pack and pulled a rag out from the biggest pocket.

He drenched it in one of your buckets of water and placed it on your scorching head, you hissed at the feeling of something so cold having touched your flaming skin.

You let out a dry chuckle before responding, “You. I’d do you. Now help me out of these. Please.” You begged, eyes turning emerald green at the thought of finally getting your neediness taken care of by the man in front of you.

“(Y/N)- I- I don’t think you understand what you’re asking.” He attempted to reason with you, trying his absolute best to remain unaffected by your current state.

But it was hard. You were half naked, chained to the wall in heat, pleading with him to help you. And God, did he want to help you. Every instinct in him was telling him to ravage you and make you his.

“I know exactly what I’m asking you to do. Please Seokmin- It hurts! Please take my pain away. Please!” You groaned out as you shook your chains in impatience, “Don’t you want to help me?” You questioned him with an innocence face, but your eyes couldn’t have been more dirty. Fuck. You were gonna kill him with that mischievous little glint in your eyes.

“I- I do. But I cant. (Y/N), you’ll regret it if I help you that way. The best I can do is-” His sentence broke as you rubbed your foot against the crotch of his jeans, causing a cut off hiss to expel from his lips, “Is- is help you ride it out by taking care of your symptoms.” He stuttered as he denied you, it was taking everything he had to hold himself back from attacking your lips. You were making everything EXTREMELY hard for him. Literally.

But he knew you’d be upset with him if he did what you wanted him to do right now. He’d be taking advantage of your vulnerable state. That’s not how he wanted his first time with you to go. Or anytime with you for that matter. He wanted you to be fully aware of what would be happening and he wanted you to be glad it was taking place because you loved him, not because you were a sex crazed animal in the middle of mating season.

Tears started to form in your eyes and began to slide down your cheeks. You couldn’t take it anymore. He was right there, and touching you, but not in the place you needed him most. It was killing you. The ache between your legs was getting to be too much for you to bare.

“PLEASE SEOKMIN PLEASE! I can’t take this anymore! You’re so close but you’re too far away. I want you to take care of me. Please!” You wailed out, thrashing yourself around as you tried to find some stimulation, hell, ANY stimulation you could get to rub against your heat.

“(Y/N), I can’t. You’re just saying that because you’re going through your mating cycle. If you were thinking normally, you would probably have already pushed me out of your den by now. You don’t want me, you want your pain to go away. And that’s not reason enough for me to break, I’m sorry. ” Seokmin spoke softly, upset that he had to speak his reality into existence.

He wanted you to want him, but he knew that normal you didn’t. Hormone you only wanted him to scratch an itch for you. And as much as his inner wolf was pleading with him to heed to your request, he couldn’t. Not if it meant you’d hate him more afterwards.

“You think I don’t normally want you? Do you know how hard it is to stay away from you? Do you even know what it takes to be as cold towards you as I am? It kills me. I want to be sitting in your lap all the god damn time for fucksakes. All I want to do is get on my knees for you 24 hours of the fucking day and suck your soul out. I want you to hold me down on a bed and fuck the living daylights out of me. I want you to pound me so hard all I know is your name. But it’s just my natural instinct to resist you after everything that’s happened. But PLEASE, I can’t take this anymore. I want you to help me. I NEED you to help me. Please Seokmin?” You yelled out to get his attention with one final plea, looking at him with watery red eyes and a pushed out lip.

He stared you deep in the eyes as he debated what to do. On one hand, he didn’t want you to be remorseful over this. But on the other hand, his cock was already scrapping his jeans because of how aroused your current state had made him. You were ducking dripping onto the cave floor and it was all because of him. It was all FOR him. Oh, fuck it.

He quickly attached his chapped lips to your near bloody ones from biting them to suppress groans, feverishly moving his in an effort to make up for lost time. You whimpered into his mouth and tugged on your restraints, showing him that you wanted them off. He gave you a dirty smirk before he grabbed the key setting juuuust out of your reach and unlocked your chains. Once free, you all but threw yourself at Seokmin, smashing your lips back onto his like your life depended on it. You were gripping his hair roughly while forcing your mouth to his with such force, you could feel your teeth clashing. You had to have him touch you more, you NEEDED him to touch you more.

He stood the both of you up and rid you of your shirt and panties in a flash. Soon, his own articles of clothing were gone and, before you knew it, he was holding you against the cave wall, you legs wrapped around his waist as you grinded against his member for some sweet friction.

He grabbed your hair and forced your head to the side for better access as he started making small love bites up and down your neck and chest. You scrapped your nails through his hair, the little pleasure starting to affect you in ways you had never even dreamed it would. It felt like he was the only thing holding you to earth as you held onto him for dear life, both of you far too gone to care about anything else but the feeling of each other’s touch.

The hand that was still in your hair pulled you to look back at him as he spoke to you with soft eyes, “Are you sure you want this baby? We can stop if you want to. I don’t want to do something you’re not ready for.”

He knew the chances of you wanting to stop while you were in heat were slim to none, but he also knew that you wanted nothing to do with him most of the time. He didn’t want you to be angry with him later. He needed fo be SURE you knew the consequences to what you were asking him to do.

“Yes. I’m sure. Now PLEASE just fuck me before I go crazy. Please!” You replied as you held his hair in a death grip, slowly rubbing your slit against his member. This let him shallowly dip into you and caused a light squeal to emit from your chest.

He positioned himself fully in front of your entrance, giving you a final look, wanting you to give him another form of assurance before he continued with his actions. You nodded your head at him as you pulled him in for a passionate kiss of approval.

He hurriedly buried himself completely inside of you, both of you moaning out from pleasure in the process. A deep growl came from Seokmin’s chest as he dug his face into your neck in an effort to try and hold himself still so you could adjust to his long length. As much as he wanted to start fucking you into the cave wall, he refused to continue until he knew you were comfortable enough to move on.

Soon, you started to rut against him, trying pathetically to get him to move. He got the hint fast and pulled out so that just his tip was barely inside you before he pushed himself back in at full speed. The action had forced all the air out of your lungs and had you grasping for any part of him that was within your reach. He was fucking you brutally against the wall and you felt like you were in Heaven.

“Fuck- you take me so well baby. Like you were made for me. Bet you wanted me to fuck your pretty little pussy since the day we met” He breathed out, causing you to whine in response to his filthy words.

You were so sensitive from the days of being locked away with no satisfaction, your walls were already fluttering around his cock after just a minute or two of him being inside you. The feeling of you clenching around him made his eyes roll to the back of his head from sheer ecstasy. He wasn’t gonna last long, but he was determined to get you there first. You were his main priority. Especially with you being in heat, he was insistent on making you cum first.

“Do I really feel that good?” You asked in choked out breaths and chuckled lightly at his fucked out expression. He had his eyes partially closed and his brows were pushed into a concentrated face, he looked spectacular.

“Baby, you have no idea how good your little cunt feels” he groaned out and pulled you in for another kiss, quickening his pace as he was getting closer to his release.

He halted his actions before he sat you back onto the cave floor and positioned you on all fours. He entered you from behind and started thrusting into you at an inhuman pace. He grabbed your hair and pulled your body to his chest, making your mouth fall open in response to your new position as he moved his hand that was in your hair to your throat. He was sooooo much deeper now, he was hitting your cervix with every movement. You were sure he was gonna break you in two.

You gasped when he hit juuust the right spot inside you, “Fuck! I- I’m so close!” you squealed out, grabbing the hand he had around your throat and squeezing it tightly in an unsuccessful attempt to ground yourself.

“I know baby- fuck! You’re getting so tight around me, like a good little cocksleeve. So fucking perfect.” He darkly chuckled out, still mercilessly thrusting himself into you. He quickly added his other hand down to rub your swollen clit.

“Please- I-I can’t. Fuck! It’s too much I’m gonna-” you said as you tried to push his hand away. The pleasure his hand provided was too much for you, It felt like you were going to explode.

“Shh. It’s alright, I want you to. Go ahead baby, I know you need to. It must’ve been soooo hard going all this time without my dick to help you,” he cooed at you with a seductive smirk, “But You’ve been such a good girl princess. And Good girls deserve to be rewarded. Good girls get to cum on their daddy’s cock” he whispered as he licked up evilly from your collarbone to your ear, still pounding into you so hard you could hardly breathe and still rubbing your clit like it was the last thing he’d ever do.

“But I- You have to stop before I-” just as you were about to finish your sentence, a white wave of euphoria hit you, stopping you dead in your tracks.

“Holy shit” you heard Seokmin say as you started to come down from your high. You had thrown yourself out of his arms and onto your palms, now holding the ground in front of you.

“I made you squirt. Jesus Christ that was so hot baby” He spoke as he tapped his now soaked cock on your plump ass before he slid himself back into your pussy.

You whimpered loudly in response, “No please daddy- it’s too much. I- I cant-” You started to squirm from the overstimulation before Seokmin took your arms and pinned them behind your back with his hand, pushing your upper body to the ground.

“You can take a bit more baby. I know you can. I need to finish still. And It’s only fair that you’re nice to me now that I’ve been so nice to you right princess?” He teased while still pushing in and out of you sloppily to get himself off.

You whined slightly before you started to lazily clench your walls around him, trying to get him there quicker through the pain of your sensitivity. But you started to feel that familiar feeling building back up in your stomach. For most female wolves, their heat would start up their need immediately after relief unless one thing was done…

“Shit baby, I’m close. Where do you want me to cum? I could cum in your pretty little mouth so you can swallow all of me. Or I could paint your sweet ass with my cum so everyone will know you’re my little cock slut. It’s up to you princess” Seokmin gritted out through his teeth, smacking your ass with one hand and using the other one with the grip on your waist to pull you back to him over and over again.

“I- I need you to cum inside me.” You mustered out, already moaning out incoherent sounds from being so close to your own high so soon after your last one.

Seokmin’s rhythm faltered for a moment as he took in what you had just said before he spoke up again, “But baby… are you sure?” He did his best to sound as concerned as he could while he was still balls deep inside you. But fuck, it was hard when all he wanted to do was breed you like the bitch in heat you were.

“Yes. Please! It’ll make it go away for longer. Please! Cum inside me daddy” You all but screamed as he managed to graze your sweet spot.

He wouldn’t normally want to risk something like that, even with his own mate, he’d still want to be sure they were both ready for the possibility of a child in case. But all he could focus on was your tight cunt sucking him in over and over and how he wanted to help you with your heat as much as possible. You asked him to cum inside you. So that’s exactly what he was gonna do.

He threaded his brows together in concentration as he worked his way to his high. You had already started going over the edge for the second time today. Your moans and sounds were music to his ears, so his fangs had elongated. But because he wasn’t sure where you two had stood, he just decided to bite his bottom lip instead to keep himself from marking you.

“Fuck! Be a good little slut and take all of it.” He groaned as he pushed himself as deep into you as he could, emptying his load and releasing his hot thick cum against your walls in the process.

You were both a panting sweaty mess. He pulled out, an action to which you whined from the lack of fullness, and grabbed his shirt to help you clean up. Once you were both clean, he sat down beside you against your wall. You were still panting, but were remarkably quiet

“Are you upset with me?” Seokmin asked looking at his hands, doing everything he could to keep from meeting your gaze that had found him the second he started speaking.

“No I’m not mad at you. What makes you think that?” You answered, your mind still a little groggy and your voice still a little strained from the sex.

“I just figured you would be because we fucked. And then I came- well you know…” he responded, rubbing the back of his neck slightly.

“I’m not mad. Just tired. I asked you to help me and you did. I asked you to cum inside me and you did. So even if I wanted to be mad, I wouldn’t really have the right to be.” You added, hoping to ease his worries slightly while you were trying your best not to nod off to sleep.

“Yeah about that… why did you ask me to-” Seokmin started his sentence before you stopped him, immediately knowing what he was referring to.

“It keeps the need away for longer. Don’t ask me how I know. I just do. And I figured you’d need at least a few minutes before we could go for another round, so it seemed like the most viable option.” You stated matter of factly, running your trembling fingers through your messy hair before you sat them down on your lap.

“Oh. I see.” He said as he started to get visibly nervous. You knew where he was about to go with this sentence too, but you decided you’d let him ask anyways, “so… what does this mean? Are you gonna go back to hating me now?”

“I never hated you to begin with Seokmin. I just- I didn’t want a new mate. After what happened to my old one, it just- it didn’t feel right. So I was cold to you, and it’s not like I felt nothing for you then. I just- didn’t want to. As for the state of our relationship, I’m not really sure what we are myself. But I do know that I don’t want to be mean to you anymore. You never deserved it. You were just trying to love me, you didn’t do anything wrong. But I’m just not sure how good of a mate I’d be to you at the moment. I’ll do my best.” You huffed out earnestly as you turned your entire body to look at him.

He looked exhausted and you knew that that was your fault. But that still didn’t change the fact that you thought he was the most attractive person ever in that moment, still attempting to catch his breath, his hair matted and stuck to his forehead from sweat. He beamed a smile at you.

“I can live with that” he let out as he grabbed your petite hand in his big one and brought it up to his lips for a kiss.

“But why? Why would you want that if it means that you’d have a mate who still wasn’t capable of loving you properly?” You questioned. That thought had been on your mind since the second after he told you he had imprinted on you. Why would he want you if you didn’t even know how to love him?

Seokmin played with your fingers for a moment before he spoke again with a sweet smile that melted your heart, “The Heart Wants What It Wants I guess.”

(Updated 9/8)

[barnesbabee]

The Boss Doesn’t Like It || C.J

Summary: Don’t fuck around where you shouldn’t be.

Pairing: Choi Jongho x Reader

Words: Bruh ngl it’s long as fuuuuck :/

Genre: Smut, Angst

⚠ Mafia!au, metion of drugs, mentions of blood, usage of guns, degrading, spanking, hair pulling, dirty talk, thigh kink ⚠

A/N: This is for the lovers of the Mafia!au then. Enojy 💖

ᴄʀ: ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱʙᴀʙᴇᴇ

    His hand flew across your cheek, and an incredible, stinging pain spread through your face.

    “I’m gonna ask this one more fucking time, and you better answer properly, or else…” The dark-haired male pulled a gun from his thigh gun holster.

    He pressed the cold barrel to your temple harshly, forcing you to slightly cock your head. You were trying your best to remain calm and not seem pathetic, but you couldn’t help and freak out a little over the gun pointed at your head. Breathing was suddenly hard and small beads of sweat rolled down your forehead.

    “I’ve fucking told you three times. I don’t work for anyone. You got the wrong idea, it’s not my fault.”

   It was entirely your fault. You should have told your drug dealer to fuck off, that he was going to deliver them to you in a reasonable place and that you sure as Hell wouldn’t step into that part of the town, but of course your thought process didn’t go as far as considering the consequences of your dangerous actions.

    The very second you stepped foot into the dark street decorated with used syringes, broken glass and rusty knives, you were knocked out by a harsh blow to the head. You woke up tied to a chair, in a cold, cement room that had nothing but a table with pristine tools on top of it, that, to be honest, scared the living shit out of you.

    The tall mal smacked you with the gun barrel, proceeding to shove it back where he had taken it from. You winced at the pain, and soon after felt the warm blood.

    He turned his back, visibly infuriated by the response, and walked towards the metal door.

    “She doesn’t leave.” He told the man standing outside, just as he walked away from the scenario.

   The door was slammed shut with a loud noise. You finally let yourself break down, and never-ending tears streamed down your face as you bit your lower lip to try and suppress your sobs. You felt like puking. You felt claustrophobic because of the tight ropes you couldn’t wriggle out of.

    Suddenly, just as you were about to lose hope, your eyes landed on the tool table. The scalpel. You looked towards the door and started conjuring a way out, before they eventually killed you, or made you bleed to death. If you tried to move closer to the table in your current situation, the chair would creak against the floor and the man outside would hear you. He had to be gone… But how on earth would you be able to do that…

   An idea popped into your head, and you remembered your previous thoughts.

   You felt like puking.

   You bent over in the chair so that the ropes would be pressing tighter against the mouth of the stomach, triggering your gag reflex. You immediately started salivating and gagging in the air, loudly.

   The man outside heard this and burst inside immediately. He saw you hunching over, salivating onto the floor. The male gripped your hair and forced your body back to his original position. He removed his hand and approached his face to yours.

   “Boss doesn’t like his shit messy, so if you puke you’ll clean it right back up”

   You took the proximity of your faces as the perfect opportunity. You swung your head back and smashed it against his nose as hard as your body allowed you to. The man stumbled back and, by pure luck (for you), hit his head on the pipe behind him, and fell to the ground unconscious. 

    You wasted no time in grabbing the scalpel once you had gotten close enough to the table, and started by undoing the ropes around your wrists, then around your torso, and finally around your feet. Before you fleed the room, you rummaged through the man’s body until you found a gun. Did you know how to use it? No, but you felt safer with it in your hands knowing that probably everyone you’d run into had one of these with them.

    You blindly made your way through the halls, just praying to God that wherever you were going lead to a way out. Surprisingly enough, you were able to escape the building. The gun immediately slipped from your hands the second you stepped into the outside world and you ran away like some monster was out to get you. You didn’t stick around to hear the boss’ angry yell when he found that some mere girl was able to knock out the man whose specific instructions were to not let you out, and then escape. 

   He was beyond furious, because you had beat him. And no one beats Jongho. He swore on his life he’d find you and bring you back, and then he’d decide your fate.

   Enveloped with fear and paranoia, you barely left the house the following month, only when it was absolutely necessary. But as time passed, and as the weeks went by, you felt safer, the crazy thoughts washed away and you felt like you could start living your life again. Slowly your life began coming back, and as a celebration, one night, you hesitantly left your apartment and made your way to the club as a way of cheering for your returned freedom. 

    As the night went on, you started becoming more free and careless, living the party. Every shot you took was like piecing back together your confidence, and you eventually let go of your worries as the music played through your body. 

   The third song since you had been on the dance floor started playing, and you felt a pair of hands encircle your waist and pull you closer. Your back hit their chest and for a second you were worried and a little anxious, but when you glanced over your shoulder to see the person’s face, you were pleasantly surprised. You smiled at the good-looking, red-haired stranger and he replied with a smirk.

    “Hey pretty.” He whispered in your ear.

   Instead of replying, you began moving your body once more, swaying your hips to the music, making sure your ass was grinding against his crotch. His grunts and small squeezed were an incentive to keep going, and you gladly did.

    He lowered his head, so his lips would be leveled with your right ear.

    “What do you say we take this somewhere else, beautiful?”

   You turned around and encircled his neck with your arms. You placed a long, teasing kiss on his plump lips and pulled away right after, wanting to give him just a taste of what awaited him. 

    “Let’s go?” You asked, stepping away from the male’s body. 

   He answered your question by placing his hand on your ass and squeezing it, while he lead the two of you out of the crowded club. 

   Your legs were a little wobbly as you tried to keep up with the pace of his long legs. Your eyes wandered around the place you were heading towards. It was… odd. It was very dark and it seemed empty, compared to the rest of the city. A chill ran down your spine and you decided to walk a little bit behind the stranger, as you started feeling the fear creeping up again. You wanted to ignore it, because it was most probably still remains of your previous fright, but you couldn’t shake it. When the male grabbed your wrist and pulled you into an alleyway, you stopped being scared and became terrified.

    Everything was dark, but you could make out three figures standing in front of you.

   “W-what’s going on?” You asked and gulped.

   Your mind immediately went to the worst-case scenarios: kidnapping, sex traffic, you name it. Your legs were visibly shaking, until a car’s headlights turned on. Your body froze and you covered the light with your hand for a second, as it was too blinding. When you moved your hand and looked at the men standing in front of you, you became unable to think. There stood the male you had been avoiding for months, the man you swore you were safe from. 

   Your heart beat a million times per second, it felt like it was going to jump out of your chest at any second and breathing became hard.

   “Good job Mingi.” He said, in a stern voice to the man beside you. 

   You watched as the stranger that you had been following up until now nodded his head and joined the other men in front of the car. 

    The male you tried to avoid started stepping towards you, and, just as he opened his mouth to say something, you felt dizzy, and you suddenly felt light. It was all too overwhelming, too terrifying, and you couldn’t take it. You didn’t remember anything else, but the cold feeling of the floor as your body collapsed.

    You woke up, cold and uncomfortable. You tried to move, but you were obviously restrained by something. Your head was pounding, and for a second all you remembered were the insane amount of shots you took. When the rest of the memories hit you, however, your eyes shot open and you sat up, wherever you were. You moved a little too quickly and so your vision became blurry for a second, but that didn’t stop you from frantically looking around the room, trying to make out where you were.

     Oh great...

    One of your hands was handcuffed to the pipe in the room you had once been tied in a chair, except this time the tool table was nowhere to be seen. You cursed yourself for being so naive the previous night and following that stranger into this mess… 

    Whoever you were dealing with was smart, that much you could deduct. They must have been following you for weeks, tracing you and camping outside your home for the longest time, and you hadn’t even noticed. You shivered at how terrifying that was.

    Long streams of tears escaped your eyes, and you honestly couldn’t tell if they were from the stress, fear, desperation, or sadness. You reached your free hand up to your cheeks and wiped the tears. You looked at your fingers after your face was dry and saw all of the black mascara smeared on them.

    “I’m gonna die ugly I can’t believe this…”

    And so you began to cry once more at the thought of death. 

   The big door burst open and slammed against the wall. A red-haired male you recognized from the previous night approached you holding a key and knelt down next to you, beginning to undo your handcuff. The memories of what he had done to you hit you like a truck, and the shame and fury bubbling inside of you couldn’t be contained. You gathered all of the courage you had in you (which was not much at this point) and spat in his face. Straight between his pretty, cat-like eyes.

    “Asshole.” 

    He looked at you with a threatening expression and you cowered a little in your spot. The male cleaned the saliva on his face with the sleeve of his sweater.

    “I was doing my job.”

   You rolled your eyes and let yourself be pulled up by the man after he had uncuffed you. You didn’t try to run, you weren’t completely dumb and you were totally aware that not only was he much stronger, he was probably much faster too. 

   He pulled you along for a couple of meters and up a flight of stairs until you reached a pair of big, dark wood doors. The man opened the door, threw you in, and slammed it close, leaving you in there to your own fate.

   “You know….”

  You stopped facing the door and turned around to look at the familiar voice’s owner. He was wearing a white button-up shirt with his sleeves rolled up, tucked inside a pair of black jeans. The male seemed to miss the point of a button-up shirt, as it was very much ‘buttoned-down’.

   You watched each of his moves carefully and warily, as you were a little concerned about what awaited you. 

   “I’m very curious about how you managed to escape. Yeosang won’t tell me, admittedly because he must be very embarrassed a girl we came to find out is just a university student managed to knock him out and escape,” He paused, sipped on his whiskey and walked towards you, until you were chest to chest “ and I’m very, very, interested in your little endeavor.”

    You pushed him away with your index finger, very disturbed by the proximity. He looked at your finger curiously, and honestly amused about the way you behaved before someone who owned several guns and had threatened you before with one. 

    “I used my head, okay? Just kill me or torture me or do whatever you’re going to do, get it over with.” You didn’t want to go any farther.

    Jongho shrugged and leaned against his desk, crossing his arms in front of his chest in the process. 

    “You know princess, the problem is, I don’t know what it is that I’m going to do to you…”

   You looked at him confusedly, what kind of gang member was he? Did they just spin the wheel to decide what to do?

   “What is that supposed to mean?...” You question, crossing your arms as well.

   “What’s your name, princess?” 

   The pet name left his lips in such a natural way that you couldn’t help but like the sound of it.

   “You can just keep calling me princess.”

   Jongho chuckled and smirked, absolutely in love with your fierceness. Perhaps it was bravery, perhaps it was stupidity, but whatever it was, Jongho had never seen it in a woman and he was stunned, to say the least.

    “I like you, princess. I like the way you behave. You came into this side of town, got captured by Mafia members, got threatened by their boss and didn’t give a fuck, proceeded to knock down one of them, left the building, then you were caught again and now you’re here,” He approached you once more, this time taking your chin in his hand and tilting your head up to look him in the eye properly “talking down to the Boss.”

    You shivered in place, but maintained your confident posture. Jongho chuckled, his gaze never leaving yours.

    His eyes traveled along your body, followed by his hands that explored your curves shamelessly. 

    “I might just need to give you a punishment for being such a brat…”

   “You’re a lucky one.”

   You looked at the tall man that lead you to a random room you hadn’t been told what it was. 

    “How am I lucky?”

   He glanced at you as if you were stupid and chuckled.

   “Jongho took a liking to you, he’s invited you for dinner, pretty. You’re lucky you didn’t get on his bad side after what you did… My best guess was that you were going to die, in the best-case scenario.”

    You swallowed dryly, a little thankful for having a future to look upon. 

    “Here it is, fix yourself, you look like shit.”

    You scoffed at the tall male and entered the room. It was an enormous bathroom, marble-decorated bathroom. You looked yourself in the mirror, fuck, you did look like pure shit. Disheveled hair, runny makeup, and torn up dress. You questioned Jongho’s taste in women for a second…

   Your thoughts came to a halt when you saw white fabric sitting on the counter right beside you. It had a small, handwritten note. You picked it up to read it.

   ‘Wear this tonight, if it doesn’t fit you can wear nothing ;)’

   How long ago had he planned this!?

   Nonetheless, you stripped from yourself and cleaned your face the best you could so you could slip on the white dress without staining it. You had to admit, Jongho knew how to dress women well. The dress was absolutely stunning: it was a white, off-shoulder dress with a v-neck and a pencil skirt. 

    You fixed your hair quickly and made a braid out of it with the hair tie that was always on your wrist. Admittedly the dress was a little tight, but it was better than the other option.

    You opened the bathroom door once you were done and found the same tall, blue-haired man waiting for you.

    “Ready?”

   You nodded, and he silently lead you through the halls to what you supposed was the dining area.

    “Behave, Jongho isn’t as friendly as he looks.” The tall man advised before opening the door.

   He pushed it open for you to enter. Before getting in you looked over your shoulder.

   “Jongho seems to enjoy it when I misbehave.”

   You winked and finally stepped into the dining room. Jongho was already there, now in black dress pants instead of his previous jeans, looking outside of the building.

    When he heard the door close, he turned around.

    “Princess, you look beautiful. Although I have to say I’m a little disappointed you didn’t choose option number two.”

    You smiled at the cheesy joke and joined him looking at the pretty sunset. 

    The male noticed how the dress hugged your body, and suddenly the most beautiful sight wasn’t the sunset.

    Jongho’s eyes were glued to how well he could see every single of your curves through the dress. Your big bust, your wide hips, your thick thighs… The man grabbed your hips and pushed you against the wall, trapping you between it and his body. You were a little taken aback at the sudden movements.

    “You know, I don’t think I can wait until after dinner, I might have to punish you now.”

    “Wait but-”

    “Y/N,” He paused, and his tumb caressed your lower lip “you misbehaved, you’re lucky you’re not dead.”

   He did know your name. Of course he did…

    “Although depending on what your sexual preferences are, you might wish I had just killed you after what I’m going to do to you.” 

    You had never felt like this. You had never felt the urge to become this submissive to anybody… Excitement took over you and every trace of discomfort evaporated as you gave into his touch.

    Jongho noticed the shift in your behavior and smirked. He swung you over his shoulder, as if your body was made out of feathers, and made way for his bedroom. You were surprised at how easily he lifted you, and you couldn’t help but imagine how effortlessly he could maneuver you.

    Once he’d reached the bedroom, he closed the door with his foot and threw you on his king-sized bed. You watched him undress from his shirt at the speed of light before hovering over you, each leg beside your waist. One of his hands held him up while the other caressed your thigh.

    “I can’t fucking wait to take you off of this dress.” He whispered.

   Your hands caressed his arms, feeling and squeezing his biceps that you now loved. 

   “Why don’t you then?” 

   His eyes turned a darker shade and his hands immediately gripped the hem of your dress and peeled it off of your body. The tight fabric gave you no space for a bra, so as soon as you fell back on the bed, your boobs bounced on your chest, and Jongho’s cock hardened.

   He gripped both of your tits in his hands.

   “No bra? Such a fucking slut… Practically begging to be fucked.”

   He lowered himself so his lips could meet yours in a harsh, sloppy kiss. Your spit mixed with his as your tongues fought for dominance in a fight you were sure to lose. Jongho pinched your nipples, causing you to whimper and buck your hips. As you did so, your crotch rubbed against Jongho’s, making him groan into the kiss.

   He pulled away from the kiss and attached his lips to your neck, pampering it with kisses until he found soft spots. He bit down of them and sucked harshly, then making sure to lick around the place that would be marked soon enough. As he worked on your neck, his hand teased your clothed pussy.

   “I’m gonna fuck you so well princess, I’m gonna make you scream my name.” He said against your neck.

   You chuckled and sucked in a breath.

   “Are you sure you can do that?”

    Jongho’s grip on you grew tighter and he locked eyes with you for a second. The look in his eyes told you you’d struck a nerve, and you felt satisfied with yourself. Jongho’s fingers pulled your panties down and threw them on the floor of his bedroom.

    The man undid his belt and pulled down his zipper so he could strip from his pants. Then, in one swift movement, he wrapped his arm around your waist, sat on the edge of the bed, and placed you on his bare thigh. The feeling of your naked core against his skin alone made you hiss.

   Jongho grabbed your ass and spanked it harshly.

   “Ride it.”

   You looked at him as if the instructions were unclear, and he slapped your ass once more.

   “I’m gonna make you ride my thigh until you beg for my cock you fucking whore.”

   He gripped your hair and brought your face closer to his. You whimpered in pleasure when you felt his fingers tug on your hair.

   “You like this? Hm? Let’s see if you can take it, start moving baby girl.”

    Your hips started rocking slowly against his hips, but his big hands on your ass forced you to move faster. Jongho teasingly flexed his thigh against your core, and he could feel the wetness spread on his thigh. 

    You started moving faster looking for a release, but you knew it wasn’t enough, you needed more of him, you wanted more of him. 

   Jongho saw the desperation in your face as you gripped his shoulders and sunk yourself harsher and faster on his thigh. His hands gripped your ass tighter, as he wanted to push you to your limit, he wanted to hear you beg for him, and eventually, you gave in.

    “Jongho… Jongho please I need you.”

   He hummed, not quite please by your words.

   “You need me doing what? What do you need me for?”

   You held back a moan as his thumb found its way to your clit.

   “I-I need you fucking me. I need your cock in me Jongho.”

    Finally happy with your begs, Jongho picked you up effortlessly and pushed you down on his bed. He slid down his boxers, letting his cock hit your bare pussy. You whimpered at how big he was.

     Jongho ran his tip along your folds, teasing your clit with it for a second.

    “You want my cock? Hm? Do you want my cock in you my little whore? Beg for it.” He demanded. 

   You gripped the sheets in anticipation and looked up at him.

   “Please Jongho, please fuck me, I want you in me.”

   With no further notice, Jongho pushed into you. He thrust his hips into your body almost in an animalistic way. The headboard hit the wall violently but you couldn’t hear it, you were too focused on Jongho’s grunts as he fucked into you. 

    Jongho squeezed your sides, loving the way his fingers dipped in your skin.

    Your hands landed on Jongho’s biceps once more, squeezing them. You loved the way he looked so fucking big on top of you.

    He slapped your inner thigh and you whimpered at the pleasurable pain. 

    Jongho hit such a deep spot inside of you, even if you wanted to you couldn’t hold back your squeals and moans. Jongho gripped your waist and flipped you, so he’d be sitting on the bed with you riding him. He just loved to hear the way your ass slapped against his things.

    Your fingernails dug into his shoulder blades as you felt your orgasm building up.

     “J-Jongo fuck… You feel so good…”

    He smacked your ass once more and picked up the pace once he felt your walls tighten around his cock.

    “Cum for me princess, I wanna hear you.”

    You lasted about six more seconds before your body gave in. You slammed down on his cock one last time before an overwhelming orgasm washed over you. You hid your face on the crook of his neck as your whole body shook and you cried for his name. 

   Seeing your bratty, snappy figure crumble like that made something twist inside Jongho, and the final tight feeling of your hole clenching around him threw him over the edge. He shot his warm, thick load inside of you, filling you up to the brim. 

   Neither of you moved, you just sat like sat catching your breaths for a couple of minutes. You only lifted your head when you heard him chuckle. You gave him a puzzled look, and the male ran his hand up and down your back as he planted a kiss on one of the hickeys he’d given you.

    “I think I want to keep you for myself.”