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#and workers history and shit
adamparrishdyke · 9 months
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i dont have any fandomy hyperfixations at the moment so i just watch documentaries and like. learn. getting lamer and having fun
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shu-of-the-wind · 1 year
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okay because i am DEATHLY curious about this, please select from the options below. reblog with your country of origin as well please.
ETA BECAUSE PEOPLE ARE GETTING SNARKY: i am asking it this specific way with these specific poll options (american vs non-american) because it's my understanding and experience that most US state public schools actively suppress any teaching of labor history in any concrete way to the point of editing textbooks. i'm not trying to be an american exclusionist here or say that there weren't non-american labor movements. i'm saying that as a historian with degrees i have noticed that there is a very different attitude towards teaching labor history in the united states than there is in other countries. for fuck's sake.
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i feel like this site leaning heavily into the "pedophilia and incest and rape kinks are good" angle lately can be attributed to the mass expulsion of sex workers and black ppl on here ngl
#like gonna be honest these r the two groups that have far more of an understanding of how these r linked to colonialism and exploitation -#to be able to wholeheartedly oppose them w/out hesitation#like if youre a sex worker you'll likely see farrrrr more clients who are total strangers specifically seeking out children#by virtue of trying to protect said children in whatever way that you can#its easy to form opinions in the abstract if you straight up do not witness these events time and time and time again#and thinking about my ancestry + history of black exploitation especially against black children ...#i dont fully buy into the idea of 'these are exclusively issues of the nuclear family structure'. FAR more nuanced than that#as of the current society we live in.. the very family dynamic is one of inescapable relationships#if you can imagine how hard it can be when two people in a relationship have a lot of overlaps in friends have an awful break up#a relationship within the family would be much harder to reckon with. you cant just pack it up and walk away so easy#most of the ppl on here defending this shit do not even buy into it for themselves. it is entirely for roleplay purposes#they can put it away when theyre done#no disgust isnt always a good moral informant. but i will say i felt appauled reading the words 'incest fans' said in a cutesy way#ppl seem to misunderstand when black bloggers say incest kinks are a white ppl thing#what they mean is white ppl never have to reckon with the TRUE magnitude of power imbalances. it's treated like a fucking game#you never had to stand and feel the weight of knowing your ancestors are lighter than before because of the countless times white slave -#- owners raped them
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courtana · 9 months
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Today is the anniversary of the U.S.'s military invasion of Panamá, which occurred on December 20, 1989.
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Julio Yao writes in the article "Legacies of the U.S. Invasion of Panama":
On December 20, 1989, former president George H.W. Bush ordered the invasion of Panama. The U.S. 82nd Airborne division pummeled Panama City from the air, as U.S. soldiers from the 193rd Brigade clashed in the streets with troops from the Panamanian Defense Forces (PDF) and the Dignity Battalions, a militia of workers and campesinos. Thousands of civilians were caught in the crossfire as the heavily populated El Chorrillo neighborhood was set ablaze. By the time General Manuel Noriega surrendered on January 3, 1990, 23 U.S. soldiers and 314 PDF troops had been officially killed in the fighting. Civilian casualties were estimated in the thousands. According to an independent investigation by former U.S. attorney general Ramsey Clark, as many as 7,000 people may have been killed. Mass graves were uncovered after U.S. troops had withdrawn, and over 15,000 civilians were displaced.
Despite the civilian body count, no Panamanian government since has authorized a commission to investigate the killings that took place during the foreign military aggression. No administration has attempted to demand reparations from the United States, nor filed a lawsuit against the United States before the International Court of Justice at the Hague.
Over twenty two years later, the U.S. “Christmas invasion” of Panama is being lost to memory, yet its legacy lives on in profound ways that continue to shape both domestic and foreign policy in Panama.
[...]
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Panama’s tendency to submit to U.S. policy has resulted in a foreign policy devoid of independence. For example, Panama is one of the few countries in the world that has not established diplomatic relations with the People’s Republic of China, though it maintains relations with Taiwan in accordance with “checkbook diplomacy.” The U.S. government has prohibited Panama’s gestures toward diplomatic relations with Beijing.
Guided by this protectorate concept and right-wing policy, Martinelli’s administration [(2009-2014) had] offered its unconditional support to Israel and withdrawn all backing for Palestine. It [had] distanced Panama from the Central American process of regional integration, withdrawn from the Central American Parliament (PARLACEN), and increased ties with France and Italy’s conservative former prime minister Silvio Berlusconi, who was blackmailed by Italian arms company Finmeccanica into brokering a corrupt bilateral security agreement with Panama in which Panama was overcharged for military hardware, including helicopters, radar, and mapping systems. It signed a free trade agreement with the United States and Canada, and [had] given natural resources to foreign corporations, especially mining companies, including Vancouver-based Bellhaven Copper and Gold, Ontario’s Aur Resources, Toronto’s Inmet Mining, and New York’s Dominium Minerals Corporation. All of these actions [were] fully aligned with the foreign policy and national security interests of the United States.
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This was, after all, the ultimate goal of the 1989 U.S. invasion. At a meeting on December 10, 1985, four years before Bush ordered Operation Just Cause, then U.S. national security adviser John Poindexter met with Noriega with several U.S. demands: (1) Panama should allow the training of Nicaraguan Contras in the Canal Zone; (2) PDF troops should invade Nicaragua to justify U.S. aggression toward Nicaragua’s Sandinista government; (3) Panama should help dismantle the Contadora Group, a regional initiative to resolve the military conflicts that were destabilizing Central America; and (4) Panama should consent to continued U.S. military presence in Panama.
[...]
The move [of the invasion] destroyed Panamanian sovereignty and the PDF, dismantled security structures, reformed the political system, and returned power to the old oligarchy. This paved the way for new forms of foreign domination, and the Panamanian people continue to suffer its legacy.
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More Resources to learn about Panamá's Invasion:
Julio Yao's "Legacies of the U.S. Invasion of Panama," NACLA (March 22, 2012).
John Lindsay-Poland, Emperors in the Jungle (Duke University Press, 2003).
The documentary The Panama Deception (2002) on YouTube
The documentary INVASIÓN (2014)
Stephen Kinzer's chapter "You're No Good," in his book Overthrow: America's Century of Regime Change from Hawaii to Iraq (Times Books, 2007)
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Photo Credits & Description: Images taken on the morning of December 20, 1989, when various parts of the capital city were under US military control | Images from Panamá Vieja Escuela or (@PaViejaEscuela on Twitter).
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sixty-silver-wishes · 2 years
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Tumblr's Guide to Shostakovich- Asides- Ivan Sollertinsky
So, in addition to my weekly posting for Tumblr's Guide to Shostakovich, I decided I want to do a series of related "asides" posts. These will be posted irregularly (as opposed to weekly) and cover aspects related to Shostakovich that don't fit neatly into one post focusing on one part of the chronological timeline. In this case, I want to talk about Ivan Ivanovich Sollertinsky, specifically his role in Shostakovich's life and music. Sources I'll be citing include Elizabeth Wilson's Shostakovich: A Life Remembered, Shostakovich's own letters to Sollertinsky and Isaak Glikman, Dmitri and Lyudmila Sollertinsky's Pages from the Life of Dmitri Shostakovich, Pamyati I.I. Sollertinskogo (Memories of I.I. Sollertinsky), and I.I. Sollertinsky: Zhizn' i naslediye (Life and Legacy), the latter two both by Lyudmila Mikheeva. Photo citations include the DSCH Publishers website and the DSCH Journal photo archive.
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(Dmitri Shostakovich and Ivan Sollertinsky, Novosibirsk, 1942.)
Ivan Ivanovich Sollertinsky was born in Vitebsk, present-day Belarus, on December 3, 1902. He was a polymath, excelling in humanities fields, including linguistics, philosophy, musicology, history, and literature- particularly that of Cervantes. He specialized in Romano-Germanic philology, and spoke a wide range of languages; sources I've read vary from claiming he spoke anywhere from 25 to 30. (He specialized in Romance languages, but I can also confirm from sources that he studied Hungarian, Japanese, Greek, Sanskrit, and German. I've heard it said that he kept a diary in ancient Portuguese so nobody could read it, but I haven't seen this verified.) He had a ferocious wit, which he used to uplift friends and skewer enemies (there's a hilarious anecdote where he once saddled a critic opposed to Shostakovich with the nickname "Carbohydrates" for life), and worked as a professor, orator, and artistic director of the Leningrad Philharmonic. And yet, this impossibly bright star would burn out all too soon at the age of 41 due to a terminal heart condition, leaving his closest friend devastated- and inspired.
Dmitri Shostakovich first met Ivan Sollertinsky in 1921, when they were both students at the Petrograd Conservatory. While Shostakovich claimed he was at first too intimidated to talk to Sollertinsky the first time he saw him, when they met again in 1926, Shostakovich was waiting outside a classroom to take an exam on Marxism-Leninism. When Sollertinsky walked out of the classroom, Shostakovich "plucked up courage and asked him":
"Excuse me, was the exam very difficult?"
"No, not at all," [Sollertinsky] replied.
"What did they ask you?"
"Oh, the easiest things: the growth of materialism in Ancient Greece; Sophocles' poetry as an expression of materialist tendencies; English seventeenth-century philosophers and something else besides!"
Shostakovich then goes on to state he was "filled with horror at his reply."
(...Yes, these are real people we are talking about. According to Shostakovich, this actually happened. And I love it.)
Later, in 1927, they met at a gathering hosted by the conductor Nikolai Malko, where they hit it off immediately. Malko recalls that they "became fast friends, and one could not seem to do without the other." He further characterizes their friendship:
When Shostakovich and Sollertinsky were together, they were always fooling. Jokes ran riot and each tried to outdo the other in making witty remarks. It was a veritable competition. Each had a sharply developed sense of humour; both were bright and observant; they knew a great deal; and their tongues were itching to say something funny or sarcastic, no matter whom it might concern. They were each quite indiscriminate when it came to being humorous, and if they were too young to be bitter they could still come mercilessly close to being malicious.
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(Shostakovich and Sollertinsky, 1920s.)
Sollertinsky and Shostakovich appeared to be perfect complements of each other- one brash, extroverted, and confident, and the other shy, withdrawn, and insecure, but each sharing a sarcastic sense of humour and love for the arts that would carry throughout their friendship. In Shostakovich's letters to Sollertinsky, we see him confide in him time and again, in everything from drama with women to fears in the midst of the worsening political atmosphere. When worrying about the reception of his ballet "The Limpid Stream," Shostakovich writes in a letter from October 31, 1935:
I strongly believe that in this case, you won't leave me in an extremely difficult moment of my life, and that the only person whose friendship I cherish, the apple of my eye, is you. So, write to me, for god's sake.
And, in a moment of frustration from August 2, 1930 Shostakovich writes:
"You have a rich personal life. And mine, generally, is shit."
(Famous composers, am I right? They're just like us.)
In addition to a friendship that would last until Sollertinsky's untimely death, he and Shostakovich would influence each other greatly in the artistic spheres as well. Sollertinsky dedicated himself primarily to musicology after meeting Shostakovich (his first review of an opera, Krenek's Johnny, appeared in 1928, after they had become friends), and in turn, Sollertinsky introduced Shostakovich to one of his greatest musical inspirations- the works of Gustav Mahler. Much is to be said about Mahler's influence on Shostakovich's music, to the point where it deserves its own post, but it goes without saying that without Sollertinsky, Shostakovich's entire body of work would have turned out much differently. Starting with the Fourth Symphony (1936), Shostakovich's symphonic works began to take on a heavily Mahlerian angle (in addition to many vocal works), becoming a permanent fixture in his distinct musical style.
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(Colorized image of Shostakovich, his wife Nina Vasiliyevna, and Sollertinsky, 1932. One of my absolute favourite photographs.)
Shostakovich's letters to Sollertinsky, from the 20s to early 30s, are characterized by puns and literary references, snide remarks, nervous confessions, and vivid descriptions of the locations he traveled to during his early career. However, as the 1930s progressed and censorship in the arts became more restrictive, signs of worry begin to take shape in the letters. This would all culminate in January 1936, with the denunciation of Shostakovich's opera Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District in Pravda. I'll go further into detail about the opera and its denunciation in a later post, but for now, I want to focus on its impact on Shostakovich and Sollertinsky's friendship.
As one of the first world-famous composers whose career began in the then-relatively young Soviet Union, targeting Shostakovich proved to be a calculated move. Due to his prominence and the acclaim he had previously received, both in the USSR and abroad, the portrayal of Shostakovich as a "formalist" meant someone had to take the blame for his supposed "corruption" towards western-inspired music and the avant-garde. The blame fell upon Sollertinsky, who was lambasted in the papers as the "troubadour of formalism." To make matters worse, Sollertinsky had long showed a fascination with western European composers, such as the Second Viennese School, and had previously praised Lady Macbeth in a review as the "future of Soviet art." An article in Pravda from February 14, 1936, about less than a month after the denunciation, stated:
“Shostakovich should in his creation entirely free himself from the disastrous influence of the ideologists of the ‘Leftist Ugliness’ type of Sollertinsky and take the road of truthful Soviet art, to advance in a new direction, leading to the sunny kingdom of Soviet art.”
Critics who had initially praised Lady Macbeth had begun to retract their positive reviews in favour of negative ones, and a vote was cast on a resolution on whether or not to condemn the opera.  According to Isaak Glikman, their mutual friend, Shostakovich spoke with Sollertinsky, who was conflicted on what to do, beforehand. Although Sollertinsky didn’t want to condemn his friend, he supposedly told Glikman that Shostakovich had given him permission to “vote for any resolution whatsoever, in case of dire necessity.” When denouncing the opera (supposedly with Shostakovich's permission), Sollertinsky had commented that in order to develop a “true connection” to the Soviet public, Shostakovich would have to develop a “true heroic pathos, and that Shostakovich would ultimately succeed “in the genre of Soviet musical tragedy and the Soviet heroic symphony.” After Shostakovich’s second denunciation in Pravda of his ballet, “The Limpid Stream,” and the withdrawal of his Fourth Symphony- arguably the most Mahlerian of his middle period works- the Fifth Symphony, easily interpreted to follow these criteria, had indeed restored him to favour. Sollertinsky’s reputation, too, was saved.
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(Aleksandr Gauk, Shostakovich, Sollertinsky, Nina Vasiliyevna, and an unidentified person, 1930s.)
In 1938, Sollertinsky contracted diphtheria. Ever tireless, he continued to dictate opera reviews and even learned Hungarian while hospitalized, although he became paralyzed in the limbs and jaw. Shostakovich wrote to him often with touching concern:
Dear friend, It's terribly sad that you are spending your much needed and precious vacation still sick. In any case, when you get better, you need to get plenty of rest.
By the time the letters from this period break off, it's because Shostakovich was able to visit Sollertinsky in the hospital, which he did whenever he was able.
While Sollertinsky was able to recover, their friendship would face yet another test in 1941, due to the German invasion of the Soviet Union during WWII. Sollertinsky evacuated with the Leningrad Philharmonic to Novosibirsk, while Shostakovich chose to stay in Leningrad. However, as the city fell under siege, due to the safety of his family, Shostakovich fled with Nina Vasiliyevna and their two children to Kubiyshev (now Samara) that October, having spent about a month in Leningrad during what would be one of the deadliest sieges of the 20th century. It was in Kubiyshev that Shostakovich would finish his famous Seventh Symphony (which, again, will receive its own post), before eventually moving permanently to Moscow (although he still taught for a time at the Leningrad Conservatory).
During this period of evacuation, Shostakovich's letters to Sollertinsky are heartbreaking. We not only see him pining for his friend, but worrying for his safety and that of his family, including his mother and sister, who were still in Leningrad at the time. Still, he reminisces of their time together before the war, with the hope that he and Sollertinsky would be back home soon. In a letter from 12th February, 1942:
Dear friend, I painfully miss you, and believe that soon, we will be home, and will visit each other and chat about this and that over a bottle of good Kakhetian no. 8 [a Georgian wine]. Take care of yourself and your health. Remember: You have children for which you are responsible, and friends, and among them is D. Shostakovich.
In 1943, Sollertinsky arrived in Moscow, where Shostakovich was living at the time, to give a speech on the anniversary of Tchaikovsky’s death. At long last, they finally were able to see each other, and anticipated that soon enough, their long period of separation, made bearable only by letters and phone calls, would come to an end: Sollertinsky, living in Novosibirsk, was planning to return to Moscow in February of 1944 to teach a course on music history at the conservatory. When he and Shostakovich said their goodbyes at the train station, neither of them knew it would be the last time they saw one another.
Sollertinsky's heart condition, coupled with his tendency to overwork, poor living conditions, heavy drinking, and added stress, often left him fatigued. On the night of February 10th, 1944, due to a sudden bout of exhaustion, he stayed the night with conductor Andrei Porfiriyevich Novikov, where he died unexpectedly in his sleep. His last public appearance had been the speeches he gave on February 5th and 6th of that year- the opening comments for the Novosibirsk premiere of Shostakovich’s 8th Symphony.  A remarkable amount of telegrams and letters from Shostakovich to Sollertinsky survive and have been published in Russian. Some seem hardly significant; others carry great historical importance. Sollertinsky took many of them with him from Leningrad during evacuation; those letters were considered among his most prized possession. His son, Dmitri Ivanovich Sollertinsky, was named after Shostakovich- breaking a long tradition in his family in which the first son was always named "Ivan."
As for Shostakovich, we have letters to multiple correspondents detailing just how distraught he was for months after receiving news via telegram of Sollertinsky’s death. To Sollertinsky’s widow, Olga Pantaleimonovna Sollertinskaya, he wrote:
“It will be unbelievably hard for me to live without him. [...] In the last few years I rarely saw him or spoke with him. But I was always cheered by the knowledge that Ivan Ivanovich, with his remarkable mind, clear vision, and inexhaustible energy, was alive somewhere. [...] Ivan lvanovich and I talked a great deal about everything. We talked about that inevitable thing waiting for us at the end of our lives- about death. Both of us feared and dreaded it. We loved life, but knew that sooner or later we would have to leave it. Ivan lvanovich has gone from us terribly young. Death has wrenched him from life. He is dead, I am still here. When we spoke of death we always remembered the people near and dear to us. We thought anxiously about our children, wives, and parents, and always solemnly promised each other that in the event of one of us dying, the other would use every possible means to help the bereaved family. ”
Shostakovich stuck to his word, making arrangements for Sollertinsky's surviving family to return to Leningrad after it had been liberated, going through the painstaking process of acquiring the necessary documentation and allowing them to stay at his home in Moscow in the meantime.
 In 1969, he would write to Glikman:
“On 10 February, I remembered Ivan Ivanovich. It is incredible to think that twenty-five years have passed since he died.” 
Furthermore, Shostakovich recalled:
Ivan Ivanovich loved different dates. So he planned to celebrate the twentieth anniversary of our acquaintance in the winter of 1941. This celebration did not take place, since the war had ruined us. When in our last meetings, we planned the 25th anniversary of our friendship for 1947. But in 1947, I will only remember that twenty-five years ago life sent me a wonderful friend, and that in 1944 death took him away from me.
And yet, there was still one more tribute left to make. Shostakovich had already dedicated a movement of a work to Sollertinsky- a setting of Pasternak's translation of Shakespeare Sonnet no. 66 in Six Romances on Verses by English Poets- but after Sollertinsky's death, he completed his Piano Trio no. 2 in August of 1944, a work that had taken months to finish. While he had started the work before Sollertinsky's death and mentions it in a letter to Glikman as early as December 1943, it would since bear a dedication to Sollertinsky's memory.
The second movement of the Trio is a dizzying, electrifying Allegro con Brio- and probably my favourite work of classical music, ever. Sollertinsky's sister, Ekaterina Ivanovna, was said to have considered it a "musical portrait" of her illustrious brother in life, with its fast-paced, jubilant air. The call-and-response between the strings and piano seem, to me, to reflect one of Shostakovich and Sollertinsky's early Leningrad dialogues- the image of two friends out of breath with laughter, each talking over each other as they deliver witty comebacks and jokes that only they understand. For the few minutes that this movement lasts, it is as if Shostakovich and Sollertinsky are revived, if not for just a moment, the unbreakable bond that defied decades of hardship now immortalized in the classical canon, forever carefree and happy in each other's company.
And then comes the pause.
It is this silence between the Allegro con Brio and Adagio that is the loudest, most powerful moment of this piece as eight solemn chords snap us into reality, like the sudden revelation of Sollertinsky's death- as Shostakovich said, "he is dead; I am still here." These eight chords form the base of a passacaglia, the piano cycling through them and nearly devoid of dynamics as the cello and violin sing a lugubrious dirge. The piano- Shostakovich's instrument- seems to mirror the stasis of grief, the inability to move on when paralyzed by loss.
The final movement of the Trio, the Allegretto, seems to speak to a wider form of grief. By 1943, the Soviet Union was receiving news of the Holocaust, and the Allegretto of Shostakovich's Trio no. 2 is among the first instances of Klezmer-inspired themes in Shostakovich's work (not counting the opera Rothschild's Violin, a work by his student Veniamin Fleischman that he finished after Fleischman's death in the war). The idea that the fourth movement is a commentary on the Holocaust is the most popular interpretation for Shostakovich's use of themes inspired by Jewish folk music, but other interpretations include a tribute to Fleischman (who was Jewish), or a nod to Sollertinsky's birthplace of Vitebsk, which had a substantial Jewish population until the Vitebsk Ghetto Massacre in 1941 by the Nazis. (While I haven't read anything confirming that Sollertinsky was ethnically Jewish, the painter Marc Chagall and pianist Maria Yudina, both carrying associations with Vitebsk, were.) Whether the grief expressed here was personal or referencing the larger global situation, the quotation of the fourth movement's ostinato followed by the final E major chords suggest a peaceful resolution after a long movement of aggressive tumult and grotesque rage.
Shostakovich would continue to grieve and remember Sollertinsky, but the ending of this piece- composed over the course of about nine months- perhaps implied closure and healing. In the following years, the war would end, Shostakovich would form new connections (such as a lasting friendship with the composer Mieczyslaw Weinberg), and, as he had done through tragedy before, would continue to write music. Sollertinsky was gone, but left a mark on Shostakovich's life and work, his memory carried in every musical joke and Mahlerian quotation that found its way onto the page.
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(Shostakovich at Sollertinsky's grave, 1961, Novosibirsk.)
(By the way, check the tags. ;) )
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queen-mabs-revenge · 11 months
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never been busier organising literally I'd say 85% of days this month have been events, actions, or planning for them and without that level of work I think I'd be going fully insane watching the news, but my fuck my brain is straight up pudding
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dionysus-complex · 2 years
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can honestly say that I did not have >95% of the Democratic party including the majority of its progressive wing deciding to take a sledgehammer to their credibility with labor on my 2022 bingo, but here we are
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fakeosirian · 1 year
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WGA STRIKE...
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2!!!!!!!!!
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29121996 · 4 months
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#all of this is Throwing me down the rabbit hole again btw.#i may not . ever say a fuckign Word to him. but i sure as fuck gst to look at him#and its hard Not To. hes still the prettiest man ive ever looked at!! im still attracred to him !!#i shouldnt be !!! but i am and im allowing that . i cant keep feeling like this tho ABDIDNDJ#i . am going to get So Hurt .#i mean it shouldnt b any different to any other similar situation but UNLIKE every other time .#we actually dated ! i actually love him n have a wild history w him ! its a lot dofferent !#its fine !!!!! im . yelling internally .#and atp i need to get laid . im seriously abt to just send libra a mssg n b like#i know this is weird n u can absolutwly say no. but how do u feel abt having sex#or wtv . bc . this call of celibacy was fun n helpful . but .#eniugh is enough i need to get laid. so i can shake some od whatever the FUCK is going on internally#anyway. im going Crazy internally . i gotta talk to my coworker abt getting a 2 drink max on myself#not vc im actually a menace !!!! or anyrhung !!!!#but bx !!! i keep saying dumb shit abt ppl while theyre around . n its not shit thats like#it cant get me into trouble . itll get me a talking to occasionally#but . (im talking abt one specific thing i sakd n if i dont unravel my ahite lie Now itll look bad)#so im bookibg a sesh w my ips worker to discuss tgis bx . i Fucked Up Kinda . and . i dont know what to do abt it bc i feel guilty#a little. i needed to. like i did what i had to do in the moment . but . i twisted thw truth a little to get what i wanted#n i dont Like That :( not to my manager.#bc she batted 4 me IMMEDIATELY . n i do hate that h eis so well fucking KNOWN.
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genderkoolaid · 1 year
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Tranny. Many people don’t know the history of the word, they assume it was an assigned hate term or slur along the lines of the “n” word. That’s not how it happened. Tranny was invented by us in Sydney, Australia in the 1970s where drag was a big deal, and still the best drag shows ever are in Sydney, Australia – they’re amazing. So a lot of trans-identified women who were assigned male at birth did drag, that’s how you made your living. And so they were transsexuals, transvestites, drag queens, and they were all doing drag to make money. They all bickered amongst each other who is better than who, “Well the drag queens are better,” “No, the transsexuals are better.” “You are all freaks, we’re better.” And on and on and on. But they worked together and they were family together, so they came up with a word that would say family and that was tranny. In Australia they do the diminutive, that’s how they come up with words. So tranny. I learned the word in the mid-1980s, late 1980s from my drag mom in San Francisco, Doris Fish, who was the city’s preeminent drag queen and she’d come from Sydney. And she schooled me in this word tranny, she said, “This way it means we’re family, darling.” “Thank you mama.” [...] So we used it and we were trannies together. And F to M was just beginning to start, the trans men were just beginning to become visible, Lou Sullivan was a neighbor of mine around the corner, and he was the first big out trans man, wrote his book. So trans men and cross dressers . . . cross dressers were also family. Transsexuals, we were all trannies and that felt good. That got into the sex industry and became a genre – there was tranny porn, there were tranny sex workers – chicks with dicks, she-males. [...] And, my only guess is that people who . . . because the only way they would have found out about the word is if they were watching tranny porn or having been with a tranny sex worker and then hated themselves so much that they turned it into a curse word. So it’s not really technically correct to say we’re reclaiming a word – it was always ours. So, many people mistake the word for the hatred behind the word and, in my generation, and I’m sure in future generations of trans people, tranny is going to be a radicalized, sexualized identity of trans in the same way that faggot is a prideful identity in the gay male community – not all gay men are faggots, but those who are are proudly fags and those who are dykes are proudly dykes within the lesbian community, trannies are proudly tranny within the transgender community. Does that mean we can’t call ourselves that because some trans woman does not want to be called a tranny? No. I’m going to keep calling myself a tranny. To the trans woman who gets called tranny, I’m sorry – as soon as . . . you’ve got to look at why you’re getting called tranny and if you don’t pass, you’re going to be read as a transgender person and then you fall back on the cultural view of trans folk which is freak, disgusting, not worth living, we can hurt you. It has nothing to do with the word, it has everything to do with the cultural attitude. So the word has stirred up a shit storm, but it’s not the word.
— Kate Bornstein on the word "tranny" in this oral history from the Digital Transgender Archive
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teastyun · 3 months
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༺ paid undone
arcane sevika x female reader (nsfw)
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working as an owner of a mechanics shop at day and prostitute at night at Zaun's most famous brothel, you expect a quiet night shift after a hard day of work. your expectations go avail and you miserably fail at keeping your identity hidden from Sevika, who has just earlier visited you at your shop that day.
a/n: instead of listening to my lecture on English diachronic history I wrote this in my notes app and dear god pls let me ride her until my legs fall off
masterlist
putting your makeup pouch back into your personal small closet, you wonder who's today's clients will be. on your way to work, you've noticed how empty and calm the streets are recently. no fights, no big groups lingering in each corner eyeing anyone that's passing by, only a few drunkards at their usual shit.
words were spread about an ex-prison mate duelling her way through the ring in the center of Zaun after a fatal crisis in the upper world. interestingly enough, the brothel's business wasn't booming since her entry in Zaun, equalling a calm shift for you. lucky for you, you're paid per hour instead of per client, so you expect a good rest after your long shift at your mechanics shop.
as your usual routine, you put your mask on and wrap a robe around your lightly clothed body, before you take a quick trip to visit the madam and owner of the brothel.
☾ ⋆*・゚
entering the long dark hallway, you keep your head low and walk steady towards the madam's room.
on your way you pass several rooms with slightly open doors, revealing the sounds of huffing, moaning, but also laughing. despite the empty streets, the brothel seems to be lively today, nonetheless.
you take a deep breath and close your eyes, as your fingers touched the doorknob of the room. your boss is a lovely old lady, but sometimes intimidates the shit out of you, despite the years you've already worked at her institution.
"there you are, y/n." she looks up from her papers with a cigarette in between her long wrinkled fingers decorated with heavy rings and long painted nails. you are one of her longest and most reliable workers, and she makes sure to treat you accordingly.
"s'bit a teeny quiet, ain't it?" she looks up at you with her long, cat eye-ish lashes and heavy purple eyeshadow accentuating her wrinkles around them. in response you lightly nod, not sure why she's suddenly talking about anything but your upcoming client.
you look at her as you wait for her to continue.
her fingernails tap like a melody against her cigarette trinklet, making you nervous with each taping sound.
"m'love, i've got a rather... special client waiting for you today. are you aware of Silco's... mates?"
while deep in your thoughts you first nod, but quickly shake your head after.
earlier, you've seen a slender girl with long blue braids at your shop, a tall and intimidatingly buff woman with a heavy red cloak covering half her body, following her close behind without exchanging a single word with either the girl, nor you. but, where they really from Silco?
the madam watches every single move of yours. her head tilts mischievously at your response. "very well. tonight, i assigned a special lady of Silco's to you. she's waiting for you in room xii."
your already tense nerves aren't pleased to hear about today's responsibility you're taking, but you silently thank her by lightly bowing your torso before you make your way to the assigned room.
her voice stops you as you open the heavily decorated door. "and y/n, make sure to please her with every single pretty ounce of yours."
☾ ⋆*・゚
you were already fucked before you even entered the room.
you expected a calm, restful shift with easy clients. instead, you have one of the most powerful and influential people of Zaun in your rooms, waiting for you to finally enter.
not looking up as you close the door behind you, you take off your robe while trying to maintain your breathing. as it falls to the floor, you take a quick glance at her.
there she is, the same woman you were eyeing up and down today at the mechanics shop. will she recognise you?
hoping that won't be the case in sake of your privacy and reputation, you slowly walk to the backless stool in front of her as you take a seat.
on your way, you carefully observe her. she even has the same clothes on as earlier. the grey and red tones in her clothing accentuate her toned body underneath. looking closely, she even seems to be hiding something underneath her mysterious cloak.
without further thought, you greet her by bowing your head lightly in respect, waiting for her to make the next move.
you notice her shifting in her seat, as she leans towards you while resting her free arm on her knee.
confused by her behaviour, you look up and notice her brown eyes piercing yours. she is incredibly intimidating and you can't help the furrow that sneaks between your eyebrows in confusion beneath your mask. you've never had a client look at you for minutes without a single sound nor move.
normally, your client has a certain thought wanting to be practiced with you as soon as possible, since time is money, especially in this brothel, where clients pay per minute. Zaun isn't necessarily known for its strong economy, so clients sometimes visit on the occasion for only a handful of minutes before they need leave.
but this, this was different. her piercing eyes where warm, but somehow so cold at the same time as she slowly eyes your appearance.
you're wearing a beautiful set of lingerie in your best colours with white lace accentuating your finest features. elegant body chains and dangling jewelry make sounds as you move your body. unlike your other lingerie sets, this one is extremely revealing around your chest, showing no fabric on the front of your breasts and leaving them on full display to see. your bottoms is attached to your stockings matching your set with clips on the front and back of each thigh.
her eyes stopped at the sight of your thighs pressing against the band of your stockings before continuing down your legs. as they move back up, you try accentuate your breasts by taking a deep breath, while looking at her through your mask with expecting eyes.
a smirk appears on her lips. "are you nervous?"
her rough voice creates goosebumps on your skin, but the question agitates you. why would the first thing she says to you be such assumption?
you tilt your head in response, not sure of how to react to such thing. she is still only a few centimetres away from you, making the distance between you incredibly tense.
she copies the tilt in your head and looks deeply into your eyes, searching for something specific in them.
"I'm Sevika," she whispers a mere distance away from you as she holds out her hand.
you take another deep breath and touch her hand in a handshake, making the situation feel so ridiculous. what was she trying to get out of you?
her hand feels incredibly big. and fuck, you wish you could feel that rough skin between your folds. just the mere thought made you clench around nothing as your cunt is soaking in your lingerie. before your thoughts could continue, you slipped your hand back. your eyes never left hers.
she leans back and rests against the cushions behind her, as she eyes you once more. this time, her eyes won't leave your chest.
your nipples are perky from the cool air in the room despite the lack of ventilation. or maybe you really are nervous?
"you're not much of a talker huh?" she continues, "show me yourself."
you reach back to unclasp your bra, but she stops you, "no, show me what you usually do here."
her eyes roam the heavily decorated room and your thoughts are spiralling. at her request, you stand up and receive a box of toys each room has available on the side of the lounging area.
in it, you look for a dildo and bottle of lube. what were you doing with most of your clients? this woman made you ask yourself questions you've never considered being asked.
all of your clients are normally males, which are in heavy need of a relief by pushing their dicks into your hole and calling it a day. you didn't mind, since it's the routine of your income at the end of the day.
but right here and now, you were supposed to fuck yourself with a dildo in front of this woman, who watches every single move of yours with piercing eyes. and fuck, you felt small.
leaning back on your stool, you fully removed your soaking thong, hoping she wouldn't notice your wetness literally stringing to your cunt as you remove it.
to your disadvantage, she notices everything. her eyes follow the soaked thong falling to the ground, before they move up to look into your eyes again. fuck, this feels so much more intimate than any sex you've ever had and you continue dripping from your cunt at her dark gaze.
you spread your legs apart, hoping to drag her gaze down there. your eyes finally break the eye contact and follow the movement of your hands as you squirt some lubricant on the side of the dildo. it is veiny and big, a difference to the ones of your average clients.
with one arm resting on another stool behind you, you glide the sides of the dildo through your folds, making your chest jump at the feeling of the cold lube. you spread the lubricant across the dildo by dragging and shifting it through your folds, bumping your sensitive clit.
you look back into her eyes, questioning if you should really do this by hesitating with your next move.
she finally looks down at your dripping pussy coated with lubricant. on cue, you push the dildo completely aside in one go.
you want to see her reaction, but a moan escapes your lips as you try to stay quiet. this woman was onto something, but there's no way she can identify you from earlier.
nervous to look at her, you drag your eyes back to hers while slowly fucking yourself with the dildo. she seems to become restless, too.
it was her turn to look at you with furrowed brows as you began to fuck yourself harder, while trying to maintain your breath as you're biting your lower lip in pleasure.
fucking yourself faster and harder, trying to chase the warmth in your lower belly without success, you throw your head back hoping not a single sound escapes your lips.
your arm begins to hurt and you can feel the sweat building up on your forehead and cheekbones from exhaustion.
fuck, you really are about to sob. you look so pathetic trying to chase your own high while failing miserably, knowing acting one out won't go through with her.
"you can't come, beautiful?" she asks teasingly and grins at your miserable state. upset with her comment you look at her and you finally see it.
"here," she tells you, petting her lap her one hand, where she somehow managed to attach a harness on when you were in your own element.
you stopped your movements immediately and slipped the dildo out without any thought, wincing at the uncomfortable feeling inside of you before attaching it to her harness and climbing into her lap.
as you attach it through her harness, your thighs rest on her firm lap. and god, this woman was incredibly handsome. her strong facial features look even sharper with her heavy dark eyes piercing yours.
you really weren't sure what she was getting out of this. any other client would've been already chasing their orgasm inside you. Sevika hasn't touched you once. she hasn't even taken off any of her clothing yet.
as the wet dildo rests against your folds, you eye her cloak. before realising her bionic arm, she already has it moved to press a cold hand on your back to push you closer. she looks up for a reaction, but you grasp her shoulders to steady yourself without a sound.
her bionic arm cups your ass, making you gasp at the cold feeling on your skin, and her other hand pushes the dildo easily into you again, making your head throw back in pleasure of feeling full again in her presence.
adjusting once again at the feeling of being full, you look at her with heavy eyelids.
"can i touch you?" she asks quietly, her eyes never leaving yours.
you nod and push your chest towards her face as a cue. she grins at your boldness and presses a wet kiss on your breast, as her hand grips your hips, making them roll against her strap. her mouth sucks and bites your skin around your nipples, occasionally licking your perky nipple, making you see stars behind that mask.
as she sucks harder and harder, you beginn to slowly grind into her. your job has never felt this intimate with any client before.
her bionic arm holds you steady against her as her hips grind to meet yours. your breath was incredibly unsteady, trying to deal with the pleasure that builds up inside your core. her mouth travelled up to your exposed ear, nibbling at your dangling piercings and licking your earlobe. "you're in control, beautiful. do whatever you like," she whispers.
you stop in your tracks to look at her almost in shock. spiralling in your head, you don't know what to do. did you ever have control over your clients? trembling, you reached for a vibrator and pressed it into her hand.
"hold this against my clit as i ride you," you tell her quietly. hearing your voice, a smile sneaks onto her lips. "gladly," she responds and turns it on.
she kisses your breast before pressing the vibrator softly against your clit. you loudly moan from the sudden stimulation, beginning to ride her strap like there's no tomorrow. she sucks and bites your nipple, making you see more stars than before. your sighs and gasps turn into moans, not caring about hiding your voice from her anymore.
the dildo presses perfectly against your sweet spot inside of you as the vibrator teases your clit and you can't get enough of it. fuck, you're becoming greedy of this woman. you've never achieved such pleasure inside of you with anyone nor alone.
feeling your the warmth slowly building up in your lower belly, you whisper breathlessly "i-i'm close, Sevika," through your mask, not sure if she could even decipher your words. she reacts by biting down on your skin and cupping your ass with her bionic hand, almost making you scream as you grind restlessly on her strap as the vibrator bumps your wet clit.
and there it is, the sudden white spots clouding your vision as come hard on her strap. you reach for her hand to turn of the vibrator, scared of overstimulating yourself after coming for the first time in such a long time.
too blissed out from the feeling, your head falls onto her shoulder and she presses a soft kiss on on your neck.
"you did great, beautiful," she tells you and you feel her warm breath against your damp skin.
your mask shifts and the realisation hits you.
you slip it back into its place, slip off her strap with a wince and stumble back onto the stool, trying to compose yourself.
Sevika detaches the strap and there you see the bionic arm for the first time. it looked heavy with its several mechanics surrounding it, but then you notice the shimmer going through it like veins. fuck, did you almost get fucked with fucking shimmer inside of it?
she stands up and rearranges her clothing, seeming to take a leave as she hands you a stack of cash from her pouch.
"what about you?" you ask confused. she says nothing but presses the cash into your hand.
"madam won't allow me to take it," you say, looking up at her from the cash in your hands.
her hand softly cups your cheek and strokes your cheekbone with her thumb. "invest it in your shop, beautiful."
stunned by her comment, you sit there completely moveless.
she presses the doorknob as she is about to leave, but she stops mid-tracks before finally leaving the room.
"good to see you again."
masterlist ; pt. 2
1K notes · View notes
stemroses · 2 years
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Forgot how freaking scary the vivid dreams were.
Like babe wdym the YouTube video I watched bored at my computer while writing down ideas/throw away lines for a shipy fanfic was all just a dream.
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defmaybe · 27 days
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Sticky
ITZY’s Shin Yuna x Male Reader
1.9k words
Prequel to Party Police
See also: Not Shy
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A/N: I write this in two sittings for probably the only mommy Yuna fic lol - BFH-type shit. No editing, no beta-reading, just pure lust again.
The clickings of the keyboards displace silence. Again, you’re stuck in the mundane cycle of doing another proposal for the project you’re going to lead. Sighs and sighs don’t keep you from drowsiness building up inside. Others don’t seem to do better even, some even folded on their desks already. The chilly breeze from the conditioner really is relentless right now, so damn perfect for a nap.
“Miss Shin wants you,” the secretary says, keeping you from falling into slumber.
You quickly get up from your desk, pacing towards the glass-paned office. You see your other co-workers dreading their assignments, clicking on their keyboards with blank eyes. On the opposite side, you can see, through the horizontal blinds, the vibrant office with your boss, Shin Yuna, doing the decorations inside. She’s tall (well, taller than you, at least), often confident, and so energetic, contrary to the department she just got handed over a few weeks ago.
You knock on the transparent door, seeing her putting on her Lady Bird poster on the wall. She’s wearing a one-piece raven black dress, one that hugs her slim, otherworldly curvy body so well. You can see her wide hips being so prominent, stripping away your fatigue.
“Come in!” she says, looking over her shoulders as she’s finishing the touch-ups.
You open the door, greeted with the scent of her air purifier—spring. The white fur carpet on the floor welcomes you with the sensations on your soles. Her office is spacious, and the colorful decorations fit her attitude and personality so much.
“Please, sit down,” she says with a smile, hand pointing to the seat in front of her desk. Even the cluttering trinkets on her table never look crowded, they are so meticulously placed to give her a perfect amount of space left for her work.
You accept her invitation, walking towards the seat. Yuna also retreats from her sprinklings back to hers, sitting down in her chair gracefully—a charming boss.
The air hangs heavy for a while, as Yuna takes some time to clear her desk. You glance around the room like the other times. The crucial difference being the Lady Bird poster, of course, and a few more band posters that you can’t quite recall from your listening history.
“So…” Yuna breaks the silence, tapping a finger on her chin, contemplating. “I see that you’ve been looking a little tired. Is that true?”
You blabber out, “N-No! I’m not tired a-at all.” You even put your hands up to deny the allegation.
“Those eyes don’t lie, baby.” The utterance of the last word alone freezes you. Is she flirting?
Let’s pause for a bit. Shin Yuna just got promoted to being your department’s manager—now three weeks in tenure. Her bubbly and kind personality receives multiple acclaim from your co-workers. And combined with her insanely high performances in projects, you cannot see how she wouldn’t get the position. 
Now, that friendly personality can be a bit, to say the least, slightly invasive. Yuna has always been so eager to fire up a talk with people, even if it means robbing someone’s silence. She’s also always happy to help those around her, no matter the methods. You’ve heard some complaints about her vivacious nature, but with the results saying otherwise, you just cannot dislike her for that.
“A-Are you suggesting I should go home or s-something?” you ask, unable to register how she’s getting up to close the blinds, as if she’s asking for some privacy from the outside right now. The room seems to shrink.
“Oh, does it look like that? Not at all, baby,” there it is again, baby.
“As your boss, I have to make sure that you stay productive for the day’s work!” Her smile lights the room up, as she walks towards her chair and sits down again. “I can’t have my employees dreading their jobs and expect a satisfactory performance.”
“Y-You’re very kind, M-Miss Shin,” you stammer out, and she seems to be happy with your words.
“Now tell me.” Yuna leans in closer to you, giving you the fine details of her face—doe eyes, minty breath, rose-colored lips. “Are you familiar with… mommy kink?”
You freeze, not expecting such a question from your manager. The gears in your head are working their best to seek the best answer you can give her, let alone making sense of the peculiar situation.
“A-Aga-”
“I’m certain of what I’ve said, mister,” she cuts you off, stern. Her expression reduces into an emotionless state. “Mommy kink, yes or no.”
“Uh…” That’s the only answer you can give her. The prospect of fully submitting to Miss Shin Yuna seems too enticing. Yet, perhaps it’s your inhibition that’s stopping your desire from falling into places.
“Come, sit on my lap,” Yuna instructs.
You glance around the room—left, right, back—as if to delay the inevitable of her pleasuring you.
“Now,” Yuna now commands, her voice steps down a few notes. 
“And there’s no camera hidden here, I promise,” she says with a smile, comforting you a little.
You slowly get up from your seat. What if I don’t do well enough for her? You walk around her table to land at your destination, your back against her face. She adjusts her position on her chair a little to accommodate your ass.
Her thighs feel… strong—definitely a result of workouts she has had after work. The images of those sweaty, skimpy sessions are making your mouth quiver—the fluid dripping down her body, just for you to taste.
Her hands start from grabbing the both sides of your slutty hips, earning a small whimper from you.
“So yearning for mommy’s touch, aren’t you?” Yuna giggles, moving her frisky fingers to unbutton your blue shirt.
“Y-Yes, mommy.” Your breath comes out in a false rhythm.
With your abdomen being gradually exposed, she uses a hand to feel it a bit, sending shocks and shocks through your faltering body.
“F-Fuck.”
“Hmm, so needy for mommy~” Yuna then continues her groping, until the last button is freed. Your upper body is bare under the cold air of the conditioner right now, as she brings the fondling hand up to your throat.
“Do you want my lips on you, baby boy?” Yuna asks, breaths warming the back of your neck. You can only nod at her.
Consented, she plants her lips on your body, and you are sure that the rosy prints are going to stick with you until the end of the day. Still, is it a fact that you should care right now? Getting groped by your goddess of a manager, with her being your mommy, on top of it.
You shiver at her kisses.
She frees your throat  before drawing her hand down to play with your raging bulge. She can definitely feel your cock aching to be freed right now.
“Need a hand, baby?” again, she asks, hand fondling the tent in your pants.
You become a stuttering mess at this point. “Y-Yes, m-mommy, please.”
“Please… what, baby boy?” She’s playing coy with you for sure.
“P-Please use your hand on my c-cock, please,” you utter out.
She whispers into your ear, “Good boy.” 
She unzips your pants, hand then slithering into the hole. The sensations are even stronger right now, with your underwear being the only barrier between you and her.
She keeps kissing your moaning neck, printing roses wherever she can reach. Her hand is stuck in fondling your cock through the slim cloth.
“Mommy, p-please,” you whimper, desire burning too brightly.
“Say please again, baby boy, and I’ll touch your cock.” Yuna giggles, enjoying how you’re submitting to your boss so damn easily.
“Please, m-mommy.”
Yuna wastes no time to push all of your lower garments down in a single motion, exposing your throbbing, twitching cock in glory. She hums in satisfaction at the sight.
“Hmm~, baby boy, so hard for me already?” she asks, finger drawing a line on the back of your cock from the bottom to the top. It twitches in response.
“Ngh, y-yes, m-m-mommy.” Yuna seems to be happy with your answer as she strokes your cock leisurely.
Her slender fingers only do what they have to do: sliding up and down to make you shatter under her touch. She starts at a slow pace, only teasing you about what’s coming. Her other hand roams under your shirt, moving down onto your juicy ass.
“Ngh, mommy,” you utter, pleasure building up in your loins. The sensations become stronger as seconds passed.
Yuna giggles at your whimpering, “Yes, baby boy?”
“I-I-, ngh,” you cannot form any words under her spell. Fuck.
Yuna cannot hold her chuckle inside, clearly satisfied with her baby boy melting under her touch. “Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want.”
“Faster, please,” you finally respond, slightly out of breath from the overwhelming sparks all over your body.
Yuna listens to your plea, quickening the strokes, bringing you closer to the edge. Fuck, your slutty moans are probably heard by the people outside now.
The squelches of Yuna’s strokes are filling the room, along with your needy whimpers and her satisfactory hums. “I just wanna spend the whole day jerking this cock~” Yuna expresses, your heart flutters at her words.
“And I mean it, really,” she continues, still keeping the moderate pace of her hand from behind. 
“The size, the curvature, the thickness, god, I’m sure it can stretch mommy’s cunt out so well,” she whispers, and your length just cannot get harder at this second.
“M-Mommy, would you berate me i-if I- fuck.” you struggle to lead your words out, stuttering everywhere you can. She’s still jerking your cock, nursing you with another hand roaming over your body to over stimulate.
“Fast cummer, baby?” She chuckles at your apprehension. “You’re doing well, baby. I think this is the perfect pace for us.”
“T-Thanks, mommy,” you say, feeling the tightening of your knot already. “M-Mommy, where c-can I cum?”
“Ooh, that’s an interesting question, baby boy,” Yuna laughs. “I don’t think the higher-ups would mind a few stains from us~,”
“W-Wha-”
“Shh, let mommy handle this,” she affirms. “Just stay on my lap and let me milk your cock, okay?”
Your mind goes feral, aching for release. Her hand relentlessly stroking your length and another traversing your compact frame just overloads your mind. “Y-Yes mommy.”
“Good boy, now, cum for me, please.”
And it hits, you become undone at her touch, like a lightning. Your sticky cum is shot everywhere—on her desk, on the floor, hell, even on yourself. You moan in the pleasure of her touch and the mind-shattering orgasm. “Mommy!” you shout. Yeah, everyone is going to hear that.
“Wow,” Yuna pants, before planting a kiss on your neck. She doesn’t seem to mind the fact that your seed is on her precious report right now. “You came so much for mommy.”
You try to catch your breath, before speaking out, “Thanks, mommy.”
946 notes · View notes
writingouthere · 8 months
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friendswithbenefits!Sukuna x reader. Your friend Yuuji sets you up on a date with his co-worker to help you get over your recent slump, not knowing that his dear older brother had ended it months ago.
cw: none really, some possessive behavior
"He's really great though, I swear!"
"What does 'really great' entail, exactly?"
"Well he's nice! Like, super nice."
You waited to see if there was any more information and when there didn't appear to be any forthcoming, pushed your friend. "Yuuji, I'm going to need a little bit more than that."
Yuuji seemed to think about this for a second and as he did you snuck some dumplings off his plate. He'd taken more than his fair share of the take out anyway.
You loved Yuuji, he was one of the most genuinely kind people you'd ever met. He just happened to have terrible taste in men, aside from his own boyfriend.
"Well, when I got lost the other day, he gave me directions and they were super helpful!"
"Wait, did you find this guy on the street? Are you setting me up with a stranger?" It wouldn't surprise you, Yuuji tended to adopt human beings the way a normal person might adopt stray cats. You couldn't complain too much since it's how the two of you had ended up being friends, but it didn't necessarily mean that whoever he'd picked up off the side of the road this time was your one true love.
"No, no, he works in the school too. He teaches like history or something. He just teaches in the upperclassmen building, so I don't see him that much."
"So he gave you directions after you got lost in your own place of work?"
Yuuji either doesn't hear your tone or he chooses to ignore it. "Yeah, really nice dude. He's also good friends with Maki, so you know he must respect women."
That was actually pretty persuasive. Maki would never put up with any man who was a piece of shit, maybe there was something here.
"Is he cute?"
Yuuji scratched his head and tried to take some dumplings off your plate while you blocked him with your chopsticks.
"I mean I guess, he always looks kind of sad but you're into that right?" You blocked his attempts at stealing your dumplings with a little more aggression than necessary at that.
"I am not!"
Yuuji hummed unimpressed, chewing on the dumpling he'd managed to snatch away while you argued. Thief.
"He's like a little taller than me, pretty eyes and he's stronger than he looks. He actually beat me in some sparring matches last year when the teachers competed." You listened even as you scowled at the way Yuuji said all this with his mouth still full of stolen food. He swallowed and gave you a mischievous smirk. "He has really nice hands too."
"Yuuji!"
"They're big and his fingers are long but not too skinny, they kind of remind me of Megumi's-"
"Who the fuck are you talking about?"
You stiffened as Yuuji's older brother walked in, scratching his bare midriff since he seemed to have once again forgot that wearing shirts was an expected human behavior. Even though he was only a few years older than you and Yuuji, he always seemed larger than life. Maybe because you had known him for so long.
"Yuuta, this guy I work with," Yuuji said, pouting when his brother stole some of the food off his plate. Served him right. "Hey! I asked you if you wanted anything before I ordered it."
"And I told you, I don't want any of this garbage. I'm just sampling," Sukuna said as he popped another piece of chicken in his mouth.
"Go eat your stupid healthy food then and leave our garbage alone," Yuuji protested pushing the plate out of Sukuna's reach. Naturally, this led to Sukuna shoving Yuuji's head into the table as he reached over and stole more food off the tray in the middle.
"So why are you talking about Yuuta's hands anyway. You and Fushiguro finally call it quits?" Sukuna's tone was casual but you had once seen him knock out a guy for groping Megumi in a club. If the day came where Yuuji and Megumi actually broke up, you think he might take turns knocking sense into both of them.
"Mnat mor me."
"Huh," Sukuna said even as he kept Yuuji's face pressed to the table. You rolled your eyes.
"He's saying that he's not the one interested, he's trying to set me up with him." You tried to push down the guilt you felt as you spoke after all you had nothing to be guilty about.
There was a flash of something in Sukuna's eyes but it was gone before you could identify it and with one last shove that had Yuuji groaning, he let him up.
"That hurt, you bastard!"
"Not an insult, I'm literally a bastard," Sukuna said and Yuuji rolled his eyes.
"Whatever, anyway, back to helping you get laid-"
"Hey!"
"-I'll let Yuuta know you'll meet him at six?"
"Can you make it eight, only old people eat at six." Yuuji nods and goes to type something in his phone. There's an awkward silence that he doesn't seem to notice and you can't help but look at Sukuna who hasn't taken his eyes off you.
"Didn't realize you were so desperate," Sukuna says and Yuuji doesn't look up from his phone before throwing a punch at him. Sukuna dodges, his eyes still on you.
"There's nothing wrong with going on a date," you say and you wonder who you're convincing. "It has been a while since a nice guy took me out."
"Ah right, I forgot you liked nice guys." His tone is too knowing and you feel yourself flush.
"Stop picking on her, Sukuna. Don't you need to be going to the gym, anyway?" Yuuji asks, finally putting down his phone. He seems to attribute the current tension for you and Sukuna's usual animosity. You wonder if that's all there is to it. Sukuna scoffs and walks back to his room. You still weren't sure why he'd even come out in the first place.
"Whatever, you two have fun planning the wedding," he says, his tone making your hackles rise.
"Say hi to Uraume for me," Yuuji calls back, oblivious. "Tell them I still want a rematch after last week."
Sukuna waves a hand before shutting the door to his room. Yuuji turns back to you and the two of you talk about other topics while your mind wanders.
You weren't doing anything wrong. Were you?
You and Yuuji decide to meet up with Megumi and Nobara for a movie before you need to get ready for your date. While Yuuji goes to his room to change, you head to the kitchen to clean up the remains of lunch.
You're putting some glasses in the sink when you feel a warm presence at your back. You can't hold back your sigh as a familiar pair of thick arms comes to wrap around your waist and a pair of lips presses gently against your neck.
"I haven't seen you in forever," Sukuna murmurs, the movement of his lips against your neck sending a familiar pulse of want to your core. You tell yourself not to let the soft gesture get to you. He never did shit like this without a purpose and his usual purpose isn't going to be fulfilled with Yuuji in the next room.
"You saw me last week, Sukuna," you remind him before leaning away from him to close the dishwasher. His hands slip down to your hips and you just know he's staring at your ass. You roll your eyes even as he pulls you back to him once you're standing. His hands pressing into the curve of your hips, putting pressure on them in that way that makes you melt.
"That's too long, princess. I was getting lonely," he teases and you feel him smirk against your cheek. "You must be lonely too."
"Actually I'm just fine," you tell him but you tilt your head so he can kiss the skin of your face, your neck, the parts of your shoulders revealed by the stretched collar of your old t-shirt. You let him lull you into a false sense of security before he reminds you why that's a bad idea.
"Really? I just assumed you felt lonely and that's why you were agreeing to go on dates with losers you've never even met."
There it was. This was why you couldn't let Sukuna get soft with you. He never did it without returning your vulnerability with malice.
"Sukuna," you say and you go to pull his arms off you but he pushes you into the counter, you wince as the cold stone presses against your body. "Let go of me." Your tone is calm even as emotions band their way across your throat.
"I would, but you seem to get lost when I let you out of my sights. I mean you're going to go on a date with some high school teacher?"
"Your brother literally has the same job?"
"Well, are you going to fuck my brother too?"
"For fuck's sake, Sukuna, get off me!"
Sukuna does let you go but only so he can turn you to face him.
Sukuna doesn't get mad the way normal people do. Usually he's just amused, maybe even mildly annoyed, but blatant rage isn't his thing. After your years of-acquaintanceship? light antagonism?-friendship, you recognized this as the stage where he was about to make his insults increasingly personal until you needed to go cry in the bathroom later.
"We are not dating," you tell him and he rolls his eyes.
"Obviously."
"Therefore, I can go on dates with other people."
"I don't give a fuck if you go on dates with other people."
"Great, because I'm going to go on this date tonight."
"Good for you."
"Yes, yes it is good for me!"
"You seem really happy with your choices," Sukuna goads in that tone of his. You hate that tone.
"I am. I don't plan on just accepting whatever scraps some loser will throw me when there are actually decent guys who want a real relationship."
Sukuna narrows his eyes at you. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I wasn't being subtle," you tell him before leaning back against the counter. Going for casual, knowing you're not quite hitting it. "Don't worry, I don't hold it against you. You can't give what you don't have, you know?"
"No, I don't know," Sukuna bites out and if he was anyone else, you would think you'd hurt his feelings but this wasn't anyone else and there was no way something you said bother him.
"You're just not a relationship person and that's-that's fine, I knew that before we started this thing. It's just, sometimes I want more." You soften your tone from earlier but it doesn't do anything to relieve the tension between the two of you.
"And this, Yuka is going to give you that?" He sounds bitter and he's not touching you. You'd been the one to tell him to back off but you couldn't remember the last time he hadn't had his hands on you in some way when it was just the two of you.
"I think his name was Yuuta," you correct before his expression tells you this is the wrong step.
"Right, okay. You know what, you go on your date and have the best time with Yuuta. I got places to be."
He brushes past you and goes back to his room just as Yuuji opens the door to his.
"Geez, what's his problem?" He asks as he makes his way over to you. You shrug your shoulders and he takes your lack of response as just your normal discontent with his brother and wraps his arm around your shoulder. "Don't let him get to you, he's just a dick."
"I know," you tell him and you do. You know Sukuna's true nature better than most.
You two make your way out of the apartment so you can make your movie and you try to ignore the guilt you feel as Yuuji talks to you.
"You know, he's actually been in a better mood the past few months. I think he might actually be seeing someone. Can you imagine who would be crazy enough to actually date that asshole?"
new series? wrote this to get the rust off so we'll see.
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redshoes-blues · 2 years
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My undergrad thesis is do tomorrow and I’m scrambling oh god
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awrkive · 1 month
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NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 3 — JJK
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in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.
PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader
GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
CHAPTER WORD COUNT 18.7k
CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3, mature language, lots of screaming into your pillow moments, litol bit of #domesticity, FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFF, angst if you squint??????????, the x file spoiler lol, suits cameo (me inserting my niche interests into conversations), the biggest warning of this part is: naked jungkook 💀
NOTES sorry for being almost 3 hours late efhkjdhfd i overestimated my abilities a bit mb mb anyway, AGAIN, i want to thank you guys for the overwhelming support! i want to take this opportunity to announce that i'll be taking a break from nb for  around 2 weeks to work on my new jungkook one-shot fic that i will be posting for his birthday ❤️ if you are interested, i have posted the teaser on my tumblr page. LASTLY pls let me know your thoughts!! i LOVE LOOOVEEE reading every single one of your replies/reblogs/asks. i hope you enjoy this one and have a good weekend ahead!!!!!! 
NB!JK VISUALS | TAGLIST OPEN (REPLY IN THE COMMENT SECTION. PLS DO NOT SEND AN ASK ABOUT IT)
READ ON WATTPAD | AO3
PART ONE | TWO | THREE
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You always wonder how a company this big seems to not have any budget lent for a copier that actually works – something that one doesn’t need to violently slap just for it to function perfectly.
You’ve been a victim not just once but five times to its inefficiency, the recent mishap being a month ago when the ink blots jumped right over the cuff of your shirt. 
With the way that you’ve been harassing the copier at the very moment, you’ll say it’s about to do you wrong for the sixth time and you absolutely can’t let it happen anymore – not when you’re currently wearing a white polo shirt that stupidly costs a little too much more than anything in your wardrobe (you decided to spend a little more than usual last New Year’s).
So, with a last unnecessary kick to the bottom of the machine (out of pure spite) you left the copier room of your floor and think, fuck it – go to the IT department and ask Taemu to back you up from his supervisor so you can use their copier instead – which is something you’re not so sure of. 
It’s embarrassing to go there just to ask him for help. Not with your history. But admittedly not that much of a history. After all, he seems to be cool with you and everything seems to be pretty chill. You can just go there; ask a little favor from a friend, and then hurry down to your floor.
There are some other options, though. Like, you can always ask the intern to do it for you. But the thing is, you kind of feel bad for those three. Your co-workers are doing a lot already; asking to fetch them things all around the building, buy them snacks, stuff like that. There’s another one but she’s way too quiet and didn’t really take shit from any of her seniors… which is kind of intimidating – but she's someone you wish you were when you were also an intern. You personally don’t want to help cultivate a somewhat toxic journey for the other three because you also started the same way as them. Beyond that, it would also be too rude to ask favors from Taemu indirectly.
You’re ultimately left with little and only one choice.
The elevator dings and the doors open after it does so. 
One of the people in it is a woman you’ve never met around before. Long, black hair; tailored suit, slender figure, and a posture that screams she’s never hunched her back in her entire life. 
Other people that entered at the same time as you start to bow their heads down slightly and greet a polite, “Good afternoon.” 
You mirror their gesture as well. 
As you step inside and settle on a spot, you wonder who she is. 
An executive, maybe? She looks very put-together, and there’s authority that hangs over her frame… but exceptionally young in the physical aspect. Jungkook is also young, though – and he’s an executive, so that’s entirely possible. Additionally, others seem to know her. Or they're just pretending to know her like you did. Did you miss a ceremony? A meeting? Or did you gloss over some HR email again? You’ll have to check later to find out if that’s the case. 
Anyway, your curiosity doesn’t last long when the elevator doors open once again, indicating the IT department floor. 
You already texted Taemu awhile ago that you were on your way so he should meet you on-time. 
As you walk down the hallway with your phone in your hand, your attention is caught by a familiar voice.
“Hey,”
You look up from your phone and see Taemu waving not too far away, heading towards your direction. It doesn’t take him long to get near you. When he does, you give him a smile.
“Taemu, hi.” You say as a small greeting. Taemu lifts his hand and you thought he was going for a high-five, so you lift your hand as well to meet the gesture. But then he leans in closer, one arm about to enclose your waist, and that’s when you realize he was actually gearing up for a hug.
Taemu seems to register that you weren’t exactly going for the same thing, so he steps back. He seems shy when you look at him in confusion.
“Oh, okay, sorry,” He offers his hand again, but just when you’re already thinking about hugging him because that was what he originally meant to do, he speaks just as you lean in closer to hug him. “I thought we were high-five-ing?” 
Embarrassed, your hands retreat to yourself.
“I thought... you wanted to hug?” You chuckle. 
“Okay, let’s just—” Taemu steps closer again and this time, it’s more than clear to you what he wants to do.
You reciprocate the hug he gives.
“This is so stupid.” You say, chuckling against his neck. The contact is quick as you two simultaneously break apart.
Taemu laughs at your remark, nodding his head. Then he gestures ahead, pointing to the direction of the copy room.
“Your copier not working again?” He asks as you walk down the hallway together. 
You heave a sigh. “Yeah, they really need to change that one. Anyway, have you told Mr. Lee?” You ask, referring to his supervisor. 
Teamu nods his head, opening the door to the copy room for you. 
“Yeah, it’s fine with him. Just sign the logbook and stuff.” 
“Thanks, Taemu.” You say, quickly getting to work, feeling slightly delighted at how their machine smoothly does its job and not like the one at all in your department. “Hey, I’m really sorry for bothering you with this.” You lament as you wait for the paper to slide out.
Taemu waves his hand, shaking his head at you. “It’s fine.” 
You purse your lips into a thin line, giving him a somewhat apprehensive smile. The paper comes out and you get your thing. After a quick scan to see if the copier got everything right, you look back at Taemu to say, “Thanks again, Taemu. I really appreciate this.” 
“No worries. Anytime.”
When you announce that you’re done, Taemu calls your name.
“Hm?” You hum, looking at him and wait for his next words.
He looks coy when he rubs a hand on the back of his head.
“Can I take you out for lunch?” He says, and you still in your position. Taemu seems like he surprised himself with his own words. You open your mouth to speak but then he beats you to it quickly, “It’s not a date. I phrased that as a date – but it’s not – ah, this is all coming out wrong,” Taemu chuckles, interrupting himself. With his hands in his slacks' pockets, he leans to a random table inside the room and looks at you with a more confident stance this time, as if he just gave himself a quick internal pep talk after jumbling his words. “What I meant to say is, if we can go out for lunch together today?” 
You chuckle. You were just about to say yes. Contrary to his assumption, you didn’t really take his first question as an invitation for a date. Besides, he helped you with the copier today.
Nodding your head, you offer him a grin as you say, “Yeah. I’ll go to lunch with you.” 
Taemu walks you to the elevator even though you said he doesn’t need to. He's insistent but you let it, anyway.
Taemu puts his hands on both sides of the door before it closes. The ride is pretty much empty except for yourself.
“When are you off?” He asks.
You think about it for a moment. “Is 12:15 okay?”
Taemu nods. “Sure. See you at 12:15?” 
“Yeah. Later.” 
The elevator closes and you laugh to yourself when you catch Taemu awkwardly waving his hand at you goodbye.
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“No, you didn’t, I kicked your ass at mini golf!” You say, laughing as Taemu looks at you with squinted eyes, obviously saying that was absolutely not what happened on your date a few months ago.
“Uh, you disregarded all the rules.” 
You roll your eyes. “Okay, fine. Rules do not matter, though. It’s just some stick and a ball and… fake grass.” 
Taemu laughs, surrendering his hands to the air, nodding when he says, “Fair, fair.” 
You’re currently at a restaurant not too far away from your company building. It took Taemu and you about five minutes to get here; just a quick waiting time to cross the pedestrian lane to get from one street to the other.
Looking around, you can actually see some people inside wearing your company lace. The restaurant’s sort of like a famous spot around the company, though, so it doesn't necessarily surprise you. You’ve also had a few company dinners here some time ago. 
Safe to say, lunch with Taemu is going… okay so far.
No – actually, it’s way better than you thought it would be.
You could have never, ever predicted that you’ll be out with him alone again after… you know, ghosting him. Your whole assessment of his character has also changed a bit after the whole fiasco.
See, some guys start feeling entitled over your permission and consent when you entertain them even just for a bit. When you go on dates and you break it to them that it’s just not working out between you two, they start to act weird. Like you’ve hurt them. Or that you lead them on – even though it’s absolutely not the case. 
But Taemu’s proving himself to be different. You honestly expected him to act like that guy because he seems the type after your first date. But he surprises you by acting the total, complete opposite.
He’s so… nice. So casual. Like nothing happened. You feel bad because right now, you've officially confirmed to yourself that you totally misjudged him. 
You can’t believe you’ll say this, but Taemu is not an asshole. Like at all.
Even now, you’re recalling what happened to your date and laughing about some of the memories of it, and it feels so long ago you’re starting to remember it differently.
“Anyway, this milkshake’s really good,” you say, taking your glass and looking at it curiously. 
“Yeah? I told you,” Taemu grins, eating from his own plate. 
“You always come here?” You ask out of curiosity since he seems to be familiar with the menu. 
“Sort of? I mean, I try to take in the city as much as I can.” You nod, recalling what he told you before. He came from Daegu, and it’s his first time in Seoul.
Before you can say anything to that, the waiter comes to your table and gives you your bill. 
Taemu and you simultaneously take out your wallets. When he sees you do it, though, he’s quick to shake his head, gesturing for you to not bother.
“No, no, it’s fine. I got it.” 
“I got it, too,” You say, smiling at him, already picking out your card, ready to put it inside the check presenter.
“__,” Taemu says your name while chuckling. “I swear, it’s fine. I was the one who invited you for lunch.” 
“Taemu,” You call him, using the same tone he used. Taemu grins at that. “I think we should split the bill.”
It’s only fair, you think. You ate pretty much the same thing.
You hold what felt like a minute staring competition until Taemu gives in and lets you stack your card on top of his in the booklet.
You’re about to resume eating – pick up on the conversation you left a few minutes ago – when your phone dings on the table, a message popping out on the notification center.
When you read the contact name, your eyes widen but you relax your face real quick lest Taemu asks questions. 
“Sorry,” you say, pointing to your phone. Taemu nods, understanding. You pick the device in your hands, turn to your other side to not be rude, and read the text from Jungkook. 
Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:47pm]: hey I bought you lunch Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:48pm]: i was gonnna ask you to go with me earlier but I got busy with some papers 
Shoot.
You’ve done a pretty good job of not thinking about Jungkook at all for the entirety of the day. You woke up so early this morning that you waited for twenty whole minutes for your bus just so you can avoid seeing Jungkook because everytime his name pops up in your thoughts, you remember what you did the night before and it just messes with your head so much.
Listen, you aren’t embarrassed about trying to get yourself off. It’s just masturbation. It’s a carnal need and it’s totally normal. What you are not proud of is the way you thought about him – out of all people – and how it actually made you feel… a little more motivated to get yourself there. 
But it’s a slip-up. A big mistake. 
How are you supposed to look him in the eyes after that and act like you didn’t do what you did? Granted, you did stop before it escalated. But still, the point is that you thought about him while you were pleasuring yourself. Even if it was for a tiny bit second, it still counts!
Stupid fucking ovulation, you think to yourself with bitterness. You’re a much better person without it, you swear. You don’t go around thinking about men when you try to get yourself off, not at all! Personally, your head is mostly blank when you go through it.   
But Jungkook left two texts. And he’s probably seen the read tag on his end already. 
You [12:49pm]: I just got lunch ): thank you for buying me one tho that’s really nice ofu
You turn your phone off after sending your reply, placing it on the empty space of your table. When you look at Taemu, he’s eyeing something behind you. With furrowed brows, the question about what he’s looking at is on the tip of your tongue when he suddenly says,
“Isn’t that Mr. Jeon?” 
“W-what?” You stammer, not sure if you heard him right.
The knots on Taemu’s forehead fades, and then he nods to himself. “I’m pretty sure that’s Mr. Jeon. He’s going this way.” 
“Wha—”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Jeon.” Taemu stands up from his seat and does a slight bow for greeting. 
Without thinking about it, you mirror Taemu’s action, bowing your head longer than necessary. 
“Good afternoon, M-mr. Jeon,”
It’s no use to avoid his gaze, though.
When you look at Jungkook, he seems pretty much just as surprised to see you. You look away, but your eyes fall to his hand, and you see that it carries a take-out paper bag from the restaurant. You think about his text. 
“Good afternoon.” Jungkook says with an easy-going smile. He goes from surprised to casual real quick and glosses over you as if he doesn’t know you. 
You don’t really know how that makes you feel. 
“I was just going, have fun with your lunch.” He says and politely bids his goodbye, going straight to the direction of the restaurant’s door. 
“He’s really cool, you know?” Taemu brings up when you both sit down again. 
“I— huh?”
“You must have heard about the new project they’re starting at the end of this month, right?” He asks curiously.
You sit there stunned. Stunned from earlier’s interaction with Jungkook but also because you don’t really know what the hell Taemu’s talking about.
“No… I didn’t get any memo…?” You say instead, trying not to act way too oblivious lest he thinks you’re lazy or something. Not that it matters! You’re not trying to impress him or anything. 
Taemu nods. “Well, you’ll probably know about it soon.”  
But your head's too far gone now, still stuck on what happened a minute ago.
You look over at your phone while Taemu speaks, hoping for it to light up with a new notification from the messaging app. 
A few minutes passed by and it doesn’t, even when you leave the restaurant.
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You don’t really know why you’re here. 
It’s been three days since that night in Jungkook’s place where you tried to bake in his kitchen, so it’s also been three days since you started practicing during the nights after work to perfect your cookies. Tonight, it just so happens that the cookies finally taste edible and honestly, it’s more than okay. 
So, maybe that’s why you find yourself in front of Jungkook’s door with a plastic container in your hands, decently-baked cookies prettily arranged inside. 
Jungkook was with you when you made those pathetic excuses for cookies, so you thought it’s only fair for him to try these ones and tell you what he thinks. Brag a little. Maybe have a little chitchat if he’s free or whatever.
It’s also… sort of like a peace offering for something he doesn’t need to know about. You can’t tell him you’re sorry for thinking about him when you did the deed because that’s just plain weird. 
Speaking of weird, though, the interaction from yesterday left you feeling a little empty. There’s this gnawing feeling inside of you that something went wrong – but you can’t exactly point out why. Jungkook also hasn’t texted you after that – which isn’t out of the ordinary. You don’t text everyday and you don’t meet every single day, either – for the record. You’re both busy people. You can only imagine Jungkook’s schedule.
Anyway, if there’s anything that you learned about your friendship with Jungkook, it’s that you don’t need to lie to him. You just have to knock on his door and he’ll unintentionally clear your doubts by being the voice of reason because he’s nice like that. 
You do hope though that tonight clears any weird air between you. Maybe you’ll find out later on that there’s nothing weird going on at all and you’re just overthinking stuff as usual. 
You’re about to ring the doorbell twice when the door finally opens, showing you Jungkook still wearing his polo shirt. He looks like he’s just gotten home from work, red tie undone around his neckline and a few buttons popped open. 
“Hi.” You smile. 
“Hey,” Jungkook looks at you, obviously wondering what brought you to his door.
“I wanted to give you this,” you hand him the plastic container which he takes with a confused look. “Those are cookies. I baked them. I didn’t give you anything when I baked two nights ago because they were bad.”
“Ah,” Jungkook nods, looking down at the plastic. He smiles, then leans on his doorway. “So it’s good now?” 
You gesture a so-so with your hand. “Don’t set your expectations too high. It’s not exactly Poilâne. But it tastes like matcha cookies, I swear.” When Jungkook doesn’t say anything for a while, you decide to add, “You also won’t get food poisoning, if you’re worried about that.”
Jungkook gives you an amused look. “I wasn’t… worried about that.”
“It’s a simple disclaimer. Just in case, you know, you suddenly feel weird in the stomach…” Jungkook arches his brow while you trail off. You roll your eyes lightheartedly. “I’m kidding.” 
He lets out a chuckle and then stands upright. “Thank you for this.” 
“No worries,” you say. You shift your weight from one foot to another. “Uh, do you wanna grab dinner? Right now?” 
Jungkook looks at you apologetically.
“I really wish we could, but I have to finish something tonight. Work stuff.” 
“Oh,” You nod immediately. “Okay. Uhm, good luck with that.”
He smiles at you. Lifting the container up, he arches his brows, saying, “Thank you, again. It looks good.” 
“Yeah, I hope you like it,” You say. Realizing that there’s nothing more left to say, you turn on your heel ready to go. But before that, you look back at him one last time. “Bye.” 
Jungkook grins.
“I’ll text you what I think about them.” He says, pointing to the cookies. 
“Okay, Anton Ego.”  
You both laugh at that, and you enter your apartment with a small smile on your face.
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You don’t want to admit it even to yourself, but you might have taken Jungkook’s words about reviewing your baked goods too seriously that you waited for it last night longer than necessary. Even when the night ended and you go to work the next day, which is today, none of his texts come, and you don’t think anything’s coming anytime soon. 
You try not to think about it too much because he did say he’s busy with work. You’re sure that’s the case, so you feel slightly bad for him. 
Right now, you’re looking for Ms. Seo to get her signature on a document. So you head to the elevator, rushing a bit to get inside the one that’s about to close. It’s a little urgent, so you cannot waste any more time.
As soon as you enter though, you notice who’s in it.
It’s Jungkook and the woman you saw in the elevator two days ago. 
You’re starting to think you need to start using the stairs from now on because your elevator trips are getting too ridiculous. 
It feels like you’re running on auto-pilot when you greet them both, walking to the side to make space for the other people entering. 
You wish you went beside the woman instead and not Jungkook’s side because you then have to try real hard not to look at him.
It proves to be an uneasy task when more people squeeze in as the elevator takes a few stops in between floors. You had to taut all the muscles in your body just to not get into any contact with Jungkook, but even with all the effort, it goes unsuccessful, as you brush his arm when you step back to move a little. 
Jungkook looks at you the same time you do.
“I’m sorry.” You utter, low enough to not cause any unnecessary attention.
A few do turn to stare, anyway. And you can’t help but notice the way the woman’s hand moves towards Jungkook’s to hold it as she takes a look at you. 
Jungkook, meanwhile, gives you that same professional smile he seems to have reserved for every employee that greets him around the building, warm voice saying, “It’s okay.” 
You’re thankful that the next floor is where your stop is.
As you go back to your cubicle, you wonder who the woman is. Again.
There's something about her that feels familiar. She looks familiar. Like you’ve seen her before. You can’t just figure out where exactly. 
“__,” Sol calls beside you. 
“Huh?”
“You’re not having lunch?” She asks.
“Oh…” Right. It’s currently your break time. “Are you guys going out?” You say, looking at Joonhwi who’s two cubicles away from you.
Sol shakes her head, taking her coat from the back of her chair. “No, just at the cafeteria.” 
You nod your head. “Okay, I’ll follow in a few minutes, just need to look over some stuff here,” You point to your computer. 
“Okay. Just text me.” 
You give Sol a smile and watch as she and Joonhwi head out of the office. 
Your gaze falls to the time on your computer.
12:10pm. 
Is Jungkook possibly having lunch right now? You remember him buying you one two days ago and feel a little sense of regret about not taking it even though it isn’t your fault and he should’ve told you first to give you a little heads-up.
You never really talked about it. You never really talked for the past three days.
But then again, he seems to be busy.
With a little hope in your heart, though, you pick up your phone and decide to send him a text. 
You [12:12pm]: hey do u want to go out for lunch? 
Or should you just buy him one like he did for you? It’s not like you’re trying to up him in a kindness competition. It can just be a small, thoughtful gesture from a friend to a friend. 
You receive a reply a few seconds after. 
Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:13pm]: hey __  I’d love to
Your lips curl down when you read the next one that comes in a second.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:13pm]: but I have a work meeting in 5mins
Oh. Okay. That tracks. 
You [12:14pm]: okii!! That’s totally cool! good luck with work 😊
You stand up from your chair and take out your wallet from your bag, going out of your office and sending a quick text to Sol that you’re coming to the cafeteria. 
When you get there, your peripheral vision catches a familiar figure. 
You look back, trying to see if it’s someone you know.
Turns out it is. Because it’s Jungkook.
You’ve seen him in the elevator this morning and he wore a grey pair of suit. You’d also recognize his stature anywhere, but just like how it was inside the elevator, he’s with the woman again; long hair down like it was yesterday, this time adorning a suit dress that hugs her figure really well, her stilettos making her legs look longer but somehow Jungkook still stands a little taller.
For the very brief moment that you laid your eyes on them, you saw how Jungkook had his hand placed on the low of her back, how she laughed at something he said, and how they looked good together from your point of view. It seemed like they were on their way somewhere.
You realize that was what Jungkook meant when he said he’s busy.
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They say a silver lining comes in every worst situation possible, and you’re more of an optimist rather than a pessimist so usually, you believe in the concept of silver linings even though right now – it looks like it’s going to be winning the jackpot in the lottery or… free education for everybody across the world.
“The contractor estimates it would be a week-long repair.”
“One week?” Is your immediate response, disbelief coloring your tone. “I’m sorry—” You try to fix your tone, salvaging yourself from being seen as outright rude in front of your building manager. “You mean seven whole days?”
The building manager, Mr. Han, nods his head. He looks genuinely apologetic as he delivers the news, for the record.
“That’s… really long.” You say, albeit calmer now. But you still can’t imagine it.
“It’s just an estimate. Contractor said it might be faster than that, but they still need to do a full assessment of your unit tomorrow, together with the water damage restoration company. We’re doing all we can to respond to the situation. We’re also talking to your upstairs neighbor about the stipulation of his negligence.”
You nod along to his words.
Obviously, it’s his job to ensure everything’s taken care of, but still, you’re appreciative of the way they are going about the current situation. You’ve heard horror stories about tenants getting into arguments with their building managers or landlords when their apartments experience accidents.
“Can I ask about relocation?” You ask. You have to read your lease again to make sure.
“Unfortunately, it’s not indicated in your lease policy, but your renter’s insurance should cover it. You can also talk to your landlord about reducing your rent for this month due to the inconvenience.”
You nod, giving him a small smile. “Okay. Thank you.”
The plumber and some of the help the building manager employed to dry up your place from the accidental flood had already left a while ago, and soon, Mr. Han’s figure disappears entirely after a few seconds as you watch him walk down the flight of stairs and away from the building.
You can hear the loud whirring of the air movers placed inside your unit from where you stood on your porch. Your hair’s damp, including some spots on your work clothes from the water that trickled down your ceiling as you panicked earlier to pack some of your belongings in a medium-sized luggage you managed to grab in the timeframe.
It’s the state that Jungkook catches you in when you see him emerging from the stairs, looking like he also just got back from work.
“Hey, what happened?” Jungkook, with his brows furrowed, looks at you with worried eyes, sounding equally concerned.
You sigh. “Hey,” you greet weakly. “My apartment got flooded.”
“What?”
“It’s the upstairs neighbor. He apparently left his tub running while he went to work this afternoon,” You take a sharp breath, getting pissed again at the negligence. So goddamn stupid, really. “He flooded his own place and the water leaked to my ceiling, and when I got back home from work I was welcomed with two inches of water on my floor.”
“What the hell?” Jungkook says in disbelief. You nod at his reaction. That is exactly what you said when you heard the story from the property manager. “Are you okay?” He asks, and you appreciate it.
“Not sure about that.” You answer honestly.
Jungkook furrows his brows. “You called your landlord immediately?”
Letting out a sigh again, you nod and move to sit on your suitcase – the lonesome bag that you’re planning to bring with you to wherever the hell you’re going to stay tonight. You don’t even think you have enough clothes in it.
“My place is a complete wreck. Most of the water’s drained, though, and the building manager brought some help inside and they put air movers inside to dry the place right now.” You blow air to the strand of hair that escapes from your ponytail out of frustration. “It’s a shitshow, I know.”
“Good that they responded fast,” Jungkook comments, but concern is still etched on his face as he asks you, “Have you called your insurance company yet?”
“Yeah, we’re emailing right now.” You tell him, showing your phone. You hate sending email through such a small device but you left your laptop back at the office – which is kind of a good thing, now that you think about it – because it would’ve gotten flooded had you left it in your place.
“Did you document everything?”
Your response comes in a little curt.
“Yes, Jungkook. I did.” The onslaught questions just somehow seemed to prompt irritation in you, and you can’t help but add, “I know everything I have to do. I’m an adult.”
Predictably, you render Jungkook surprised.
“I— I didn’t mean it like that. I apologize.”
When you look up at him, you see his expression softening – and you feel bad for what you just did.
Chill, __. He’s just asking logical questions.
“No, I’m sorry,” You shake your head, feeling a little ashamed for bursting like that. You shouldn’t have talked to him like that, anyway. “I don’t know why I snapped, you’re just asking the important questions.”
Jungkook hesitantly hovers his hand on your shoulder, and the look he gives you seems to be asking for permission to touch you. You don’t even know if that’s his intention, but you give him a nod.
He smiles, tapping your shoulder for a brief second, saying, “It’s okay. You must be really stressed right now.”
“You think I can’t be calm in this situation?” You look at him with a blank expression. Jungkook’s taken aback and you witness the very split second his smile drops form his face, probably thinking he said something wrong. Then you can’t help it, you break. “I’m just fucking with you.”
Jungkook’s brows furrow as he sees you bursting into a gentle laugh, breaking your serious demeanor.
He shakes his head slowly, seemingly incredulous of the stunt you just pulled.
“You and your jokes…”
“You should’ve seen your face.”
“You got me.” Jungkook chuckles.
“I’m sorry… it’s just me trying to ignore the fact that my apartment literally got flooded and those loud and big ass fans they placed inside are about to tear my ears off.”
You see the way Jungkook’s face winces.
“Where are you staying for the night, then?” He asks.
“I don’t know,” you shrug, genuinely not sure about your options. “Probably gonna book a hotel or something.”
Of course you’ve thought about Jimin. He can probably easily help you find a place for the meantime but it’d probably be hard with him not being physically in the country just yet. Sol also crossed your mind, but you remember she has a roommate.
Getting a hotel to temporarily stay at is the most obvious option there is. It would be too much of a hassle, not to mention expensive, but—
“You can stay at mine for the night.”
You think you’re getting around to Jungkook offering you help without you even asking – but it doesn’t mean you still don’t get a little taken aback when he gives it so willingly and so quickly like this.
“No.” You shake your head.
“Seriously.” Jungkook stares at you.
You stare at him right back.
“I can’t.”
“Why?” He raised his brow.
“I can’t think of reasons right now.”
“You don’t need to think at all.”
You squint your eyes at him, he does the same.
Soon enough, Jungkook breaks first and laughs.
“Come on! You’re gonna freeze in here.”
Hesitantly, you say, “… Are you sure?”
“What are you worried about?” He cocks his head to the side, awaiting your response.
Well. There’s a lot to be worried about.
There’s the thing where you always just seem to be caught into some shit and then he catches you right exactly in it. It’s starting to get embarrassing.
But Jungkook just doesn’t really seem to mind it.
“Nothing, really.” Is what you weakly settled for.
“Okay…” He trails off, raising a brow, obviously a bit confused. “Then what’s the big deal? Do you really want to go through the hassle of picking out hotels and booking a room at this hour? You have to go to work tomorrow.”
You visibly wince at the mention of work.
He’s right and you kind of hate it.
“You’re right…” you say after a while.
“You’re staying at mine?” Jungkook asks again, in which you nod your head in confirmation.
You stand up from your suitcase and pull up the handle. Then you look at him sincerely to give him a smile. “Thank you. I think this is like the five hundredth time this kind of thing happened between you and I.”
“Not counting.” Jungkook shrugs. “Have you had dinner yet?”
You nod your head. “I went with a friend— a co-worker.”
Jungkook visibly stills.
“The guy from a few days ago at the restaurant around work?”
You perk up at that, surprised he still recalls that day.
“Yeah, that’s him. Taemu. From the IT dep.”
He nods. You don’t know if he’s interested or not.
You think it’s a bit random that he brought that up, though, but you shake the thoughts away and call his name.
Jungkook looks at you.
“Thank you.” You say, hoping he hears the sincerity in your voice.
He chuckles. “You’re welcome,” Jungkook then gestures to the luggage you’re holding. “Let me.”
Jungkook doesn’t wait for you to say yes before he takes the handle from you and carries the luggage with him to the direction of his place just across from yours.
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You consciously try to make your steps lighter as you walk out of the shower box, making your way towards your suitcase to check on the clothes you packed.
When you open it, you thank the heavens that there are underwear – and a lot of them, for the record – but as you rummage around some more, you find that other than your work clothes, you only have nightwear inside. And when you say nightwear, not the comfortable cotton pajama kind but the nightie one – and that basically means the baby blue silky set of tiny camisole and shorts that can pass as a pair of panties.
I can’t possibly wear these, you think to yourself, hastily burying the pieces of clothing in the bottom of your luggage.
It shouldn’t mean anything – those are nightwear after all! But it was already embarrassing to ask Jungkook earlier if you could use his shower and his towel. You can’t come out of the bathroom wearing clothes that Jimin once tagged as “slutty pjs”. Not when you’re in Jungkook’s place.
“__?”
You look over to the door when you hear Jungkook’s voice, a knock following.
“Yes?” You answer.
“Do you have clothes in there?”
At the question, your gaze automatically falls to the suitcase where the thin strap of the camisole peeks out in between some other clothes that are completely useless for the night.
With hesitance, you say, “Uhm… do you possibly have a shirt I can borrow? I promise to clean it and return it to you tomorrow, ASAP.”
You hear him chuckle from the other side. “I brought you some. There’s also a pair of sweatpants but I’m not sure if they’ll fit you.”
It’s hard to not celebrate silently when Jungkook says that – but you might have jumped a little at his words.
When you walk towards the door and open it, you give Jungkook a huge smile as you tell him, “Thanks!”
He stops. And then you stop.
You realize you’re only in your towel – his towel, to be exact.
You feel the blood rushing to your cheeks the moment it registers.
Before you can do or say anything, Jungkook moves on quickly and stretches his arm, thrusting the clothes he’s mentioned into your way.
“There.” He says simply, smiling at you.
You take them from his hand, giving him a smile too, albeit a bit awkward.
“T-thanks.”
Jungkook turns on his heel to leave, and you lock the door to the bathroom as soon as he walks away.
You settle his clothes on top of the flat surface of the lavatory, physically shaking your head as you look at yourself in the mirror to shake your thoughts away.
Thoughts of his slightly parted lips when you opened the door while you’re only in a towel.
But it happened in such a split second that you’re not sure if it even happened.
When you take his white shirt, it feels soft to the touch and there’s a scent of fresh laundry that wafts through your nose when you wear it on yourself.
It’s loose on you, the sleeves almost covering your whole arms and the hem stopping mid-thigh. But because of that, it feels comfortable – like the oversized shirts you wear to bed that you, unfortunately, weren’t able to pack with you in the heap of panic.
But the pants show a different case. It’s so big that it drags on the floor as you wear it.
You made do, though; drawing the strings tightly and and knotting them together, pulling up the gartered hems up to your calf.
When you come out of the bathroom, Jungkook welcomes you with nothing but a towel wrapped around his lower half.
“H-hey,” You stammer, eyes meeting his own to avoid looking at his naked torso.
“I was just going in. You done?” He casually says, as if he doesn’t mind being naked in front of you.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m done. Thanks for the clothes.” You say, gesturing across your body.
“Looks good.” Jungkook comments before entering the bathroom.
You think your cheeks just got impossibly hotter.
The sound of water running is heard before you scramble to the living room.
Why was he naked?!
Okay, he wasn’t actually naked naked but still, he had no clothes on. Why did he have no clothes on? You’re trying to erase the image of his torso, the lines that draw an obvious four-pack, his firm-looking chest, and the way the tattoos over his right arm apparently go way above his shoulder. It’s obvious that he goes to the gym and works out from the way those polo sleeves of his always hug his biceps a little too tight – and with a body like that, you completely understand why he wouldn’t mind parading it around.
The AC in his unit is turned on, but it suddenly feels way too hot from where you currently sit on his couch.
Shut up. Ugh. You tell yourself internally.
Completely wanting out of that headspace, you decide to take out your iPad to get in contact with your insurance company to discuss your current situation, and it does a good job of keeping your mind off Jungkook for a while.
You’re so deep in the activity that you don’t even notice a few minutes has already gone by, and with that, you don’t notice Jungkook coming out of the shower.
When you see him in your periphery, he’s now thankfully dressed in a shirt and some basketball shorts. He’s drying his hair as he walks over to your direction in the living room.
You look at him in surprise when you notice the pillow and comforter he has in his hands.
“Sorry. You should’ve called me, I could’ve helped,” you say, standing up from the couch, ready to help him with it, assuming that you’ll be on the couch tonight.
Jungkook looks at you with furrowed brows. “I’m taking the couch.”
You stare at him, ready to hear him say he’s kidding or something but he doesn’t look like he’s joking.
You shake your head vigorously.
“No, that’s ridiculous.”
“What’s ridiculous about it?” Jungkook says, putting the pillows on the couch, starting to make it all the while looking at you through the process to engage.
“It’s your place.” You reason.
“And you’re my guest.” He says as a matter of fact.
“But—”
Jungkook cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence.
“__, it’s fine, really. You can take my bed. I insist.”
“Jungkook…” you trail off, sounding more like a whine.
He laughs and then looks at you with a playful smile. “Okay, should we compromise? Like, what, share the bed or the couch?”
You ignore the way your cheeks heat up at the suggestion.
You honestly don’t know why Jungkook says these kinds of things. You know it’s just his usual teasing, but he’s about to confuse you one of these days…
“God, no.” You respond with a shake of your head.
He chuckles. “Oh, is sleeping with me that repulsive to you?”
You push a little at his shoulder and roll your eyes.
When Jungkook’s done fixing the couch, he gestures to the door by the far end of the room. “Come on, I'll take you to the bedroom.”
You both walk towards that direction and as much as you’ve been over his place for more than once now, you’ve actually never seen his room – and for the record, why would you?
But it looks nice. Just like the rest of his apartment’s interior, his room is also almost the same. Kind of bare, but there are some sleek furniture that add character to the whole place.
“Too cold?” Jungkook asks, and you look at him to see him holding the remote of his AC.
“The temp’s fine.”
He hums and puts down the remote.
“Alright, then. Just call me if you need something.” Jungkook says, gesturing to the door. He’s about to leave when you call him again.
“Good night, Jungkook. Thank you for your bed.”
“Good night, __. Uh… sweet dreams?”
You roll your eyes. Jungkook laughs.
When he leaves, you sit on his mattress covered by black duvets and sheets. It’s soft, and you let yourself bounce on the fluffy surface, delighting at the feel.
It’s about the same size as yours, and when you lay on it, you smell that usual scent that Jungkook always emanates. Clean, crisp, a little sweet. Like fresh apples. Or fresh laundry. He just always smells so… clean.
You feel a little sense of strangeness at the different environment you’re in, but the bed is too soft that you feel like you’re almost floating – and maybe it’s because you are tired from work and drained from the whole fiasco at your apartment, but you fall asleep fast and heavy within just a few minutes.
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You almost jump from the bed when you open your eyes and see a different type of bedding, only to realize that you’re actually not in your apartment and in Jungkook’s instead.
After processing that, you begin to do a little stretching, finding that you slept quite well. As you do so, your eyes catch the digital clock on the bedside table, and you read 4:30 am.
It’s a bit too early to start getting ready for work, but maybe if you start prepping now, you’ll be ready to go out just as when Jungkook is waking up.
When you stand from the bed, you discover the absence of pants around your waist, the cold air sending goosebumps over your bare legs – and as expected, you see the sweats getting caught in between the heaps of dark sheets on the bed.
You must have taken it off in the middle of the night. It’s why you usually forgo pants when you sleep.
You decide against wearing it again, though, assuming that Jungkook is still sound asleep by now so he can’t possibly see you walking around his place naked from the waist down. Besides, the shirt’s big and almost serves as a dress.
Carrying the pants with you, you silently open the door to his bedroom to tiptoe on your way to the bathroom.
“Hey,”
“Jesus christ!” You clutch your heart at the sudden sound of Jungkook’s voice booming across the unit.
When you look at him, he’s… working out. Apparently.
Jungkook takes out the airpods from his ears and drink from his tumbler.
“What are you tiptoeing for?” He asks, brows furrowed.
From where you stand, you see droplets of sweat on the side of his forehead, his chest heaving from the push-ups you catch him doing a few seconds ago on the mat that he laid on the floor. There are small weights on the side, and Jungkook is still wearing his clothes from last night.
Did he possibly just… wake up and then choose to exercise? Is this his everyday routine?
“I didn’t want to wake you,” you make up an excuse that’s kind of partly true. He slept on the couch in the living room, after all. And from the sala, everything is pretty much visible to the eye as the unit has an open layout. So one single noise could’ve awakened him.
“Too late for that,” Jungkook chuckles. He looks at you longer than a second and you’re just about to get conscious when he asks, “You get ready for work at four?”
You purse your lips into a thin line. “Sort of. I also have to check my place.” Jungkook nods, understanding. “Uh, Jungkook?” He hums to acknowledge you. “Can I use your shower? Again?”
He laughs at the way you smile at him awkwardly. “Sure. Your towel’s just over the rack.”
“Thanks.” You smile at him and go straight to the bathroom.
You make quick work of washing yourself, and the shower, just like last night, isn’t your usual routine because of course, most of your stuff are still over at your place. Though Jungkook is kind enough to lend you some of his unused products – even giving you a spare toothbrush which now sits beside his own on the bathroom sink.
When you finish showering, you wear his shirt and his pants once again. As you go out of the bathroom, the sound of oil popping from the kitchen doesn’t escape your ears.
“I made breakfast.” Jungkook says as you make your way towards the kitchen island. He’s a few steps away, working around the stove, frying up some sausage. He takes some eggs and then turns to you. “How do you like your eggs?”
You’re sure he doesn’t mean anything by that, but then you both laugh at the realization anyway.
“Sunny side up.” You say after a while, seating yourself on one of the high stools. “Can I help you?”
“It’s okay, just sit there.”
You put your elbow on the island as you watch him work. “Wow, do you really treat all your guests like this?” You tease, deciding to poke a joke.
Jungkook laughs as he starts breaking eggs into the frying pan.
“You’re the first one.” He raises a brow your way, lips tilted into a playful smile.
“Awe.” You pretend to curtsy which makes Jungkook laugh.
It doesn’t take long before Jungkook serves you a plate of sausage and perfectly-made sunny side up. You say a delighted “thank you!” in which Jungkook returns an adorable smile for.
You thought he was going to eat with you, but he only ate the sausage and began to work on cutting up some bananas while you continued to eat.
“What did they say about your apartment? How long is the repair?” Jungkook asks while he takes out a mixer.
“Week-long,” He visibly winces at your answer. You purse your lips. “I’m trying to look for a place to stay for the remaining days.”
Jungkook furrows his brows. “Lease doesn’t cover relocation?”
“Talked to the building manager and the landlord last night and they said it doesn’t. I also read the policy again myself last night, though, just to be sure. Anyway, landlord’s cutting my rent this month for up to thirty, so that’s something.”
“Okay… how about your stuff?”
As you watch Jungkook during the whole conversation, you realize that he’s apparently making a protein shake, and when he finishes shaking the bottle, he gestures it towards you, silently asking if you want to try it.
You shake your head, also answering his question. “I already filed a claim on it with my insurance company, so they’re handling it for me. They’re probably going to seek reimbursement from my upstairs neighbor’s insurance if he has one,” You shrug. “And I’m also gonna have to ask him to pay for the deductible.”
Jungkook nods, consuming his drink. You watch as he leans back on the kitchen sink, putting his protein shake down and crossing his arms, looking right at you.
“Why don’t you stay here for a while?”
You look right back at him weird.
“You’re not serious.”
“When am I not serious?”
You hold a staring competition after that, but Jungkook’s eyes are way too intense so you break away first.
“I just can’t.” You say, interrupting the silence.
“It’s friend to a friend. I bet you’d do this for me too.” Jungkook shrugs.
He doesn’t understand, though. Staying at his place for the remaining six days would mean that you’d be both living under the same roof together, and while it’s true that you would probably do this for him if he was in your shoes, it’s just not the same.
But you don’t want to get into all that. It’s too complicated to explain, even to yourself.
So you decide to joke a little.
“Probably not.” You tease.
Jungkook chuckles. “Mean.” He comments, shaking his head at you and playfully clicking his tongue.
“I’m joking,” you smile apologetically. “It’s just for six more days, though. The manager told me it might take faster.”
“Where do plan to stay, anyway? A hotel would be really inconvenient. The nearest one around here is too far from work, not to mention it’d be expensive as well.”
“There’s loss of use coverage,” You say, even though you know the stipulation, and your apartment flooding because of your neighbor’s negligence might probably not be in the clauses.
It’s just to reason with Jungkook, but he’s quick to present another point.
“It’s gonna take a long while, no?”
You pout. Sighing, you say, “You’re right.”
“Okay, so why not stay here?” Jungkook asks curiously. “You know I don’t mind. I won’t mind.” He says and it sounds so convincing and genuine.
You decide to deflect a little because you feel like giving in any seconds now.
“You say that but wait until you find that I’m not very likeable as a roommate.”
Jungkook raises a brow. “Shoot. Hit me.”
Pursing your lips into a thin line, you try to think of your bad habits.
“I…” you trail off, but it stretches into seconds way longer than necessary.
Jungkook chuckles. “See, you can’t even list one.”
“I don’t cook.” You point out.
“I already know that.”
You frown. “So we can’t take turns cooking while I stay here.”
Jungkook only shrugs. “There’s take-out.”
“You’re gonna eat take-out for a week?”
“I can cook.” He chuckles.
“Okay… but sometimes, I get super cranky.”
He nods. “I’ll be out of your way, then. You won’t even notice I’m here.”
You sigh, out of reasons now.
“I’ll try to be helpful with you in the kitchen for the next six days. And I’ll also be nice.”
Jungkook’s brows perk up. “You’re saying you want to stay here?”
“Yeah,” you nod. “But… I wan to pay you.”
“__, the whole reason why I’m offering is because a hotel is gonna cost you,” Jungkook laughs.
That prompts you to put a frown on your face.
“Fair point. But I’m going to take your couch the entire time, okay? And that’s final.”
It takes a little longer for Jungkook to agree to that. But he nods his head, anyway, saying, “Sure.”
It sounds so non-committal. You think he's going to still try insisting taking the couch.
“Okay.” You say, ignoring that thought, smiling at him. “Thank you.”
“You know you’re always welcome, right?” Jungkook says.
You’re thankful he turns around after he says that to tend to the stuff he used a while ago in the sink, giving you a perfect leeway to avoid his gaze lest he takes notice of the way you can’t help a big smile.
“I’m gonna take a shower. Finish your breakfast.” He says, pointing to your unfinished plate. 
You give him a small salute.
Before he goes to the direction of the bathroom, Jungkook turns around to ask. "Do you want to go to work together?" He raises a brow, but then a second after his question, he puts a hand up, effectively stopping you from answering. "You're gonna say no. But I insist. Say yes, I made you breakfast." 
You laugh at his squinted eyes. 
"I was going to say yes, anyway."
"No, you weren't." Jungkook fires back. 
You shoo him away playfully before he finally leave for the shower.
All you can think about is that maybe silver linings are indeed true.
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Sharing a space with somebody has always felt… weird.
You had a roommate back in college for the whole four years, and while it wasn’t the worst thing that ever happened to you – it was just an experience that didn’t really strike you as something memorable or fun. Min Heeji was a Bio major who was an extreme introvert, and past the casual hi’s and hello’s, you both just never hit it off.
After moving out of your dorm, you rented around Itaewon. You found the unit through a listing you saw on Facebook – some woman who was finding a roommate to split the rent with. You found out later that the reason why the previous people before you left was because she was quite an interesting lady… let’s just say – she was a person who dabbled on the arts of illegal drug trading. Jimin jokingly told you he wondered about how her weed tasted like. Sometimes, you want to smack him on the head.
You pretty much decided on being against roommates for the entirety of your life after that.
But Jeon Jungkook is thankfully not a total hermit, nor does he sell weed.
It’s been long since you lived with somebody, and being under the same roof as him is different – the good kind of different, to be clear.
He’s somewhat a clean freak so it’s almost embarrassing to do anything in his place because it’s always so spot clean.
One thing that you learned though is that he’s a busy man. You had an idea about a packed schedule and non-existent free time for an executive person like him – but the idea feels more real now that you’ve witnessed it.
On the first day of your stay, after your apartment got flooded, he drove you both to work just like he offered. During the night, though, he seemed to have come home late. You slept at around 10pm and never saw him entering the door, and when you woke up the next day, he’s gone, only a note on the fridge telling you that he’s prepared some breakfast you can heat up to eat.
Nonetheless, you feel into quite an easy routine with him.
After a great deal of insistence from your side, Jungkook is rightfully assigned in his bedroom while you lay on the couch. It’s a bit bigger than the one you have on your own, so there’s space for moving around. Even when you wake up with shitty back pains in the mornings, sleeping on his couch is better than sleeping in your current wreck of an apartment as the contractor is already repairing your place.
As of the third day since the incident, they’ve already changed your ceiling, the flooring coming next. It was starting to look good as per your visit.
That made it clearer to you, though, that you’re indeed staying at Jungkook’s for another four days.
Jungkook was so busy that he even worked on a Saturday – told you that it was a hectic week for his team over a shared dinner that you thought will happen only once during your stay with his packed schedule. On Sunday, you kind of assumed that Jungkook will still be at the office, but he surprised you when he came barging in the bathroom while you were in it.
You had your leg propped on the edge of the bathtub, squeezing the bottle of lotion in your palm and spreading the cream over the skin of your shin, adjusting the towel up your thighs so you can cover your entire leg with the product.
You did so mindlessly, part of your usual after-shower routine, completely unassuming of the sound of the doorknob clicking and Jungkook suddenly barging inside the room with a hamper in his hand.
Frozen in your position, your eyes locked into his own as he stepped a foot forward on the tiled floor. You realized the hamper is his laundry.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you were here,” Jungkook apologized, and he looked genuinely bashful.
“I thought you were at work.” you said, adjusting the towel on the top of your head.
Jungkook raised a brow, but there’s a smile on his lips. “On a Sunday?”
You narrowed your eyes at him which prompted him to laugh. A beat of silence, and then you noticed Jungkook’s gaze. You felt his eyes to the direction of your raised leg on the porcelain tub – and if your own sight didn’t deceive you, you could’ve sworn he’d made a quick glance-over to the expanse of your bare leg before he snapped right back into looking at your face.
“Anyway, I was just gonna do my laundry,” Jungkook twisted himself away from the bathroom’s door. “I’ll wait for you to finish, though. I’m sorry again for barging in.”
At that, you quickly shook your head and planted both your feet on the tiles, standing upright.
“No, it’s fine. I’m done, anyway. Are you in a hurry? I just need to change into some… clothes.” You said, glancing at the heap of some pajama pants and a t-shirt on the bathroom sink.
“Not in a hurry. You can change here.” Jungkook gave you a small smile.
You nodded your head. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I’ll be super quick.”
Your lips curled into an apologetic smile, but Jungkook waved you off.
He took one last look at you before he locked the door – one thing that you forgot to do in the very first place.
You blamed it on your habit of not really being mindful about it since you were used to living alone.
The day after that – one fateful Monday – Jungkook once again was MIA at his own place. You woke around 6 am, and as you got ready for work, you noticed a note on his fridge that he went to work earlier than usual that day, and he’d also be working late so you should lock up at night.
At the company, you did not even catch a single glimpse of him.
You bought some food on your way to his place later that day, thinking that maybe you could share a meal together – nevermind the fact that he had told you he was going to be home late. But you did not expect his “late” would exceed past 11 pm, and since you were also pretty much tired from your own activities for that day, you fell asleep on the couch without making it, lying on the surface with no pillows and comforter over your body.
In your dreams that night, you felt like you were floating.
Somebody has tucked their arms under your knees and neck, taking you off the previous surface you were lying on. The unfamiliar man cradles your body against his, carrying you somewhere and putting you on a much softer place. A mattress. A big, soft, mattress. And you noted that the man smelled of green apples and laundry. An almost familiar scent.
Needless to say, your dream was quite vivid that night.
When you woke up the next morning, you were welcomed with the familiar grey paint of the walls – the white ceiling, and the dark sheets and pillows that surrounded you. A waft of fresh laundry smell. The Iron Man figurine on the top shelf of the cabinet in the corner of the room. The black slippers on the side of the door that are way too big to be yours.
Jungkook.
The strange man in your dreams was Jungkook. And it wasn’t a dream at all.
It was Jeon Jungkook who carried you all the way to his bedroom from the sofa so you could sleep comfortably on it.
When you went out of his room that morning, ready to thank him and tell him he didn’t have to do what he did, feeling bad at the thought of him sleeping on his couch at his own place, Jungkook was nowhere to be found.
But as if it was becoming tradition, there was a note on his fridge that told you: I hope you don’t mind that I brought you to my room. I found you uncomfortable on the couch last night. Didn’t cook us breakfast because I have to go to work early again today, but I’ll have food delivered at around 7. Good morning, __ :)
     — Jungkook.
That night, though, Jungkook miraculously came home early.
He arrived an hour after you, just in time as you finished doing the prep for the bibimbap you were planning to eat on your own, assuming Jungkook was going to be late again. When you saw him entering the door, you decided to make the portions of the ingredients bigger, thinking that it was the perfect opportunity to say thank you for the other night.
And you did not forget to say that either.
“Thank you for last night. You didn’t have to…” you trailed off, giving him a sheepish smile across the dining table as you both ate.
Jungkook, with his mouth full of rice – seemingly (thankfully) enjoying the meal you prepared for him – munched on it before he said, “You looked real tired. And uncomfortable, which reminds me, you should sleep in the bedroom as well tonight.”
You shook your head. “It’s fine, Jungkook. Last night was just – uh, I was waiting for you to come home because I didn’t want to just lounge around your living room while you aren’t around, but then I guessed you arrived a little late.”
Out of all the things you’d said, it seemed Jungkook only remembered one thing.
“You were waiting for me to come home?” He said, his hand reaching for the side dish pausing mid-air, eyes trained to you. Curious, his brow piqued in what seemed like genuine intrigue.
You stopped. You went over your words, not realizing those came out of your mouth.
Obviously, you didn’t mean for that to slip out.
So, you shook your head slowly. Hesitantly, you reasoned, “It’s just you’re always in your room first before I fix the couch for bedtime. So.” You shrugged, knowing your explanation didn’t suffice.
Jungkook gave you a nod with small a smile on his lips.
“I’m sorry for making you wait, then. It’s just extra busy at the company these days.”
Your brows furrowed in curiosity, “Yeah, I heard about the collaboration with Kang Tech.”
You found out about it at work that day. It’s in the accounts payable you’ve worked on the past few days, and when you asked Joonhwi and Sol about it, they confirmed the recent moves the company is recently making.
You also realized then that the reason why the mystery woman in the elevator was familiar to you was because you’ve seen pictures of her before.
Of course you’d know her. She’s the woman Jimin’s parents are trying to set him up with. The one and only Kang Heesu. She took over as CEO just very recently at Kang Tech.
Apparently, Blue Nexus and Kang Tech are collaborating on a product that will be announced later during the month – which explains her being at the company oftentimes, Jungkook being busy, drowned with work stuff – them working closely together.
Whatever you felt on that day you saw them together – you’d like to dismiss that as just a blip in the system. Your system, to be exact.
It isn’t any of your business whoever gets around with Jungkook. Whether he’s close with Kang Heesu outside work or not (like what you’ve pondered about ever since finding out about the information of their collaboration) – that’s their thing.
“Yeah, the team’s been working overtime because of it.” Jungkook added to your words from earlier.
“So, you’re more tired than I am,” You pointed out, noting the obvious. He went to work at the ass-crack of dawn, went home late, and whenever he was home – all he faced was his laptop.
You even doubt he was getting enough sleep. There were bags under his eyes that weren’t there the past month you first met him – and even though he carried them with a certain grace, you could still see that some of the shine in his eyes was becoming absent.
You were glad you were able to prepare something for him. Did something for him. You didn’t have to – but you did. Because you wanted to be a helpful roommate.
“Does it show?” Jungkook chuckled, leaning back on the chair, a bashful expression on his face.
You shook your head. “Nope. But yeah, you don’t need to give up your bedroom tonight. I’ll be fine here.”
“I actually bought something. Wait a minute,” Jungkook suddenly said. Your brows furrowed when you watched him saunter over the living room and in towards his bedroom. When he came back to the dining area, he was carrying a huge paper bag. You looked at him, visibly confused. Jungkook cleared his throat as he sat back down on his seat. “I was thinking you could use this. It’s a foldable cushion or whatever so you can sleep more comfortably on the couch.”
You gawked at the paper bag, and then at him.
“What?”
“I went to the mall yesterday and the lady told me this is one of their best sellers… I don’t know. Do you want to have a look at it?” Jungkook said, worry seeping in his tone.
“That’s a… cushion? For the couch?”
He nodded.
“Oh.” Was the only thing you could utter. You didn’t really know what to say. “I… this is really thoughtful. You didn’t have to, you know that, right?”
Jungkook shook his head and gave you a small smile.
“Thank you, Jungkook.” You told him sincerely.
“It’s nothing.” He waved you off. “I got that dry-cleaned already, by the way, so you can use it tonight if you really insist on sleeping on the couch.” Jungkook said with a teasing smile.
“That,” you point to the paper bag, “will single-handedly get me to want to live here for another three months.”
Jungkook raised his brow. “Really?”
You chuckled, leaving the conversation up on the air.
When you both finished your meal, you offered to do the dishes yourself, but Jungkook was insistent to do it, saying you’ve already done a lot for the day. You begged to differ, but you relented, anyway.
After you showered and made the couch, geeking internally at how soft the cushion he bought was, you couldn’t sleep right away, your mind finding it hard to focus on the lull of the crickets. So, at around 11 pm, you opened your laptop to pull up an X-Files episode, thinking it could condition you into being sleepy.
You promised yourself you were just going to finish one more episode, but the next episode button was too tempting and you found yourself binging the show into the wee hours of the night.
“__?” A voice coming from the far end of the room called, followed by the clicking sound of the lights turning on. With that, you found Jungkook standing on his door with his eyes half-lidded, hands rubbing his chest, seemingly having just woken up from his sleep.
“Jungkook,” you acknowledged him, straying your attention from your show. Jungkook started to trot towards the direction of the kitchen, and your eyes followed him as he stopped in front of his fridge, taking some water out and pouring it into a glass.
After he drank it, he looked at you to ask, “Can’t sleep?” You nodded your head. He made his way towards the couch, pointing at it. “Would you mind?”
“No, do you want to?” You adjusted the duvet you put all over your back to make room for him, and Jungkook placed himself beside you, peering over the screen on your laptop.
“What are you watching?” He asked, voice a little groggy.
“The X-Files. You know the show?”
“Heard about it a few times. Never gotten around to watch it, though,” Jungkook said, leaning on the back of the couch, eyes still glued to your laptop.
You smiled. “Maybe you can start it now.”
“What’s it about?”
“Uh… aliens,” you started off, feeling a little silly about it. Gauging his reaction, you waited for him to give you a judgmental look but he seemed to be intrigued when he looked at you, asking for more details. You perked up that, feeling suddenly excited. “Okay, so, the guy here – his name’s Mulder. He’s an FBI agent who’s tasked on cases that have, you know, unexplainable nature. Basically, he believes in aliens, all that ET stuff,” you explained. Right on time, Gillian Anderson appears on frame. Pointing at her, you looked at Jungkook as you introduced her to him, “And the woman – she’s so pretty – that’s Scully. She’s a skeptic. She’s an FBI agent who’s also a scientist and was assigned to be with him to debunk his work.”
“So, they investigate cases together?” Jungkook added.
You nodded your head. “Yeah, and it’s different for each episode. There’s the alien storyline which is like, the main plot of the show, but there’s the fun filler episodes. Monster of the week, they call it. I’m rewatching one of those right now ‘cause they’re fun and don’t have a backstory.”
“It sounds good,” Jungkook looked impressed, training his eyes back on the show.
You weren’t sure if he was just trying to make a conversation, but he seemed genuinely interested as you both watched the show, which tickled your excitement more. You’ve tried to get Jimin into it but he wasn’t really an avid fan of watching long shows, so you’ve given up on trying to convince him to be as obsessive of the show as you.
“Do they kiss?” Jungkook suddenly asked mid-episode, brows furrowed as he watched Mulder wiped something off the side of Scully’s lips. It’s the episode when Scully just got back from being abducted.
Amused, you looked at him and let out a chuckle. Jungkook turned to look at you, confused at the reaction.
“Hm?”
You shook your head. “No, it’s just funny. So, there’s a thing in this show, right? Scully and Mulder are not supposed to be a couple, but they act like one.”
Jungkook let out a seemingly enlightened, “Ah.” Then he looked at your screen again, “I’m watching it right now out of context and I’m assuming they’re a couple.”
“Right? They have such insane chemistry. It’s why I love this show so much.”
“Wait. They never get together? Or kiss, romantically?” Jungkook asked curiously.
“They kiss on the seventh season. We’re on the second one.”
“Wow,” He breathed, genuinely surprised. “That’s a long wait.”
“I know,” you chuckled.
You both sat beside each other as the episode finished. Jungkook would have some questions, and you happily answered each one. It was also fun to share some lore about the show – and you didn’t know if you were coming off too geeky about it – you were just unbelievably excited that he seemed to genuinely like it.
Time passed without you both noticing, and it was 2:23 am when you became hesitant on clicking the next episode button.
“Do you still want to watch another one or…” You trailed off, eyes glued to the screen, waiting to hear Jungkook’s response. But then a few seconds passed, and you didn’t receive one. Turning your head to the side, your eyes widened when you see the state Jungkook was in.
He was leaning far back on the couch with his head resting on the backrest, arms crossed over his chest, lips slightly parted with his eyes shut closed. You could see his chest rising and falling from the way he breathed in and out of sleep, looking quite peaceful regardless of his seemingly uncomfortable position.
You shut your mouth and closed your laptop quietly, trying to be careful with your movements so as to not disturb him and accidentally wake him up. Stretching your back to lean down, your breath hitched as you tried to set the laptop down on the coffee table, not daring to graze any part of Jungkook’s body, especially when his thigh was so closed to your own.
When you successfully put away the device, you went back to sitting beside him, contemplating on your next move.
You ended up staring at him, noting the way his biceps are bulging out of the sleeves of his white shirt with a thin material from their crossed position. Your eyes trailed down to the veins on his forearms, and naturally, you focused in on the one with the swirls of ink around it. It was a body of art on the first look – but looking at it at that moment – close up and free, you took time to identify the drawings on his skin.
There was that snake that trailed down close to his hand, the skeletal rock n’ roll hand, and the script that says “rather be dead than cool”. It was a shame that you couldn’t see from your current view the flower tattoo you were always curious about, nevertheless, the entirety of his inked arm was just… breathtaking, to say the least.
You wanted to ask him what they meant – or if they even meant something. You knew by now he only got them in college – when he moved to the US – and you were just curious about how he decided to get them; about the backstory, anything… Would love to trace down your fingers on his skin as he tells you the exact moment.
And then you realized what you were doing and suddenly looked away.
You felt like a creep. What were you doing, staring at him while he was unaware, unconscious in his sleep? It was not right, and you were supposed to scoot over to the edge to give him plenty of space all for himself.
But as you looked at him again, your eyes stopped at his face, and you couldn’t help but stare at it.
Again.
His nose was something you weirdly have a liking to, and there’s a scar on his cheek that once again bubbled up another layer of curiosity within you.
“Stop it.” You mumbled out loud – not loud enough for Jungkook to hear – but just enough to snap yourself out of the trance you were in.
It was stupid. So stupid. To stare at a sleeping man and have those thoughts inside your head. Jungkook would never do anything like this to you, and at that sentiment, you stood up from the couch to get away.
You caught a sight of the duvet that you used a while ago. As you looked at Jungkook, he seemed to be in dire need of one, so you made quiet steps to put it over him, stopping your breathing in case you did it too loud and he wakes up.
As you carefully laid out the blanket on top of his body, Jungkook stirred, and your breath hitched as you stopped on your tracks.
He mumbled something incoherent, his neck craning to lay on his cheek. Regardless, he stayed on his position, arms still crossed, seemingly going back to his deep sleep instantly.
You stepped out in front of him, letting out a breath of relief.
Standing there for a few seconds, you wondered about where you were going to stay. Jungkook was on the couch and unlike him – you could not carry him to his room without him noticing.
Looking at the direction of said room, you thought about staying there for the night, but decide against it. You didn’t get his permission to do so, it’d be rude—
But the couch is only one, though. And you could feel a yawn ready to come out of your own mouth, sleep lurking at the back of your head.
You could try to wake Jungkook up to tell him to go to his room so he could sleep more comfortably, but you couldn’t do it. The past few days, he had been so busy with work and seemed like he wasn’t getting enough rest. What if you woke him up and he couldn’t go back to sleep anymore? That would just make you feel bad.
Getting the pillow strewn over the edge, you walked towards the direction and fixed it against the arm rest, sitting on the spot and making yourself comfortable on it. Of course, it wasn’t – you were craning your neck too far to the side to try to lay your head, and your body was sprawled in a weird sitting and lying position.
It was fine, though. Jungkook was about two feet away from you, and you felt like you could sleep in the state.
But it was a few long minutes before it completely overtook you.
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There’s a feeling of a hard plane against your back when you feel yourself waking up.
You’re in a curled position, hands tucked under your cheeks. As much as you’re starting to slowly feel conscious, you’re still not a hundred percent aware of your surroundings just yet. It’s why you ignore the blow of hot air against the crook of your neck.
When you blearily open your eyes, you’re welcomed with the sight of the back of the grey couch you’ve accustomed yourself with over the past few days. The white foldable cushion you’re lying on. The familiar scent of Jungkook’s apartment.
It’s another usual morning, as far as you’re concerned.
So, you stretch an arm up as well as your leg, groggily mumbling something as you go back to closing your eyes again to hopefully sneak in a few more minutes of sleep.
“Hmm…”
At the sudden sound, your eyes snap open, surprised at the embodied voice that came out somewhere that’s definitely not from your own mouth. It was close, though – something close to your neck; you felt it so – and at that realization, your eyes trail down to your waist, and your breath catches in your throat when you see an arm wrapped around it.
Under your head is another arm that adorns a familiar sleeve tattoo.
When you crane your neck to look behind you, you’re welcomed by Jungkook’s locks of black and messy hair, his face apparently buried in the crook of your neck.
He must’ve felt you move because he stirs in his position, mumbling something, arm tightening around you.
You feel your heart starting to beat faster than usual as you feel the tips of Jungkook’s fingers resting on the bare skin of your stomach due to your camisole riding up, and your eyes continue to widen when you saw that the shirt he’s worn last night is now lying haphazardly across the coffee table where your laptop is.
When Jungkook pushes himself against you closer, that’s when you feel something hard against the cleft of your ass.
“Oh my god!”
“What the fuck!”
“I’m so sorry!” You immediately say, retreating your hands that just pushed him off the couch once everything registered in your head.
You just… slept with each other! You woke up with Jungkook spooning you! The hard plane against your back that you felt earlier was his chest and the hot air blowing in your ear was his breath! You both fell asleep together on the couch!
Jungkook – the poor man – visibly winces as he cradles the back of his head, adjusting himself on the floor after you forcefully yeeted him off the couch.
He didn’t expect that, of course he didn’t! He still looks like he’s half asleep when you kneel on the floor in front of him, grabbing his shoulders and craning your neck to check if you’ve done damage to his head.
“What the hell was that for?” Jungkook asks, still lost about what just happened.
You grimace as you hesitantly put your palm over the back of his head and rub to soothe the pain you’ve caused him.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you. I was just surprised and shocked when I–”
You stopped speaking when you notice that Jungkook is looking up at you, eyes half-lidded from sleep. Stopping your ministration on the back of his head, you retreat your hands to yourself and look away.
“We slept together.”
“What?” Jungkook asks, his tone incredulous, but more like confused. When you train your eyes to him again, you see him looking down on his body and then yours.
Your cheeks heat up when you realize what you just said.
“Oh my god, no! Not slept slept with each other! I mean, we slept together. Like, literally.” You say, looking at him in panic.
Jungkook furrows his brows. And then after a beat of silence, he lets out a low, “Oh.”
“Oh?” You parrot back.
“Yeah, oh,” He says drily. Jungkook rubs his eyes with his fists and then looks at you again. “I’m sorry, I feel disoriented. I just woke up.”
You wince at that, feeling bad for pushing him again.
It was just a reflex thing, okay! Especially when you felt that certain something in your ass.
When Jungkook stands up from the floor, you notice the strings of his grey shorts getting undone, and your eyes betray you as they pay a look at the noticeable bulge on his crotch.
Jesus H. Fucking Christ.
You stand up quickly, following after him, feeling your heart hammer in your chest.
Okay, boo-fucking-hoo! Men get boners in the mornings. What’s the big deal about it?
“What time is it?” Jungkook asks, brushing his hair back, and you have to physically look away and try to busy yourself by looking for your phone so you can ignore his naked chest on display and his abs and stupid big arms.
You spot your phone nearby and turn it on.
“Six thirty.”
“Shit.” Jungkook hisses.
You’ve never heard him let out so many curses before.
“What? It’s still early.” you say, in case he was referring to work.
Jungkook shakes his head. “Yeah, no. I was supposed to get ready at five am sharp. Need to go there early.”
“Oh.”
He groans, and the sound makes your stomach feel a little weird.
“I have to go shower,” Jungkook says, picking up his shirt from the coffee table. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
“Huh?” You realize what he’s talking about and is then quick to shake your head. “No, not your fault. I, uh, you fell asleep on the couch last night and I didn’t want to wake you.”
He nods, more like to himself. “How did we…?” Jungkook points between you, eyeing the couch.
“I didn’t want to use your bed without your permission, so I slept on the couch as well,” But then you decide to add, “But I didn’t sleep beside you, I was like –” you point to the edge of the couch, “there.”
“Ah,” Jungkook follows your eyes, and then nods. “Okay.”
“Yeah.” you purse your lips into a thin line. “Sorry about that. I should’ve just woken you up, huh?”
“Nah, it’s fine.” He dismisses you with a wave of his hand. “Well, is it okay if I use the shower first?”
“Of course.”
Jungkook smiles before he saunters towards the bathroom. You try not to stare at the hard lines of his retreating back, taping down to his narrow waist.
You failed to do that, obviously.
Sighing out loud when you’re sure he can’t hear you, you busy yourself in the kitchen to make some toast.
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After work, you paid a quick visit to your apartment to see how it’s going, since you’re supposed to be able to come back tomorrow.
Your building manager told you that you can pretty much move back already, but there’s no water yet, so you will still have to stay at Jungkook’s place for the last time. At least for another night.
Speaking of him, when you step out on your porch, you see him in front of his own unit, back turned to you, opening his door.
“Hey,” you call. Jungkook turns on his heel, and he smiles as he sees you.
“Hey,” He greets, his hand pausing on the door. Jungkook gives you his undivided attention as he looks at you. “Your apartment’s fine now?”
You nod happily, grinning widely. “Yeah. But I have no water yet. They’re turning it on tomorrow.” You saunter towards his direction and stop beside him. Pointing to the paper bags in his hands, you ask, “What’s that?”
Jungkook lifts them up. “Soju and Midday Miso take-out.” Then, hesitantly, he looks at you curiously. “Do you drink?”
That prompts you to laugh.
“Of course. Are you drinking tonight?”
He nods his head. “Yeah. I was gonna ask you to drink with me… but if you’re not up for it, I’ll just be in my room.”
You cock your head to the side.
“What’s the occasion?”
Jungkook chuckles. “Nothing. Just thought I could loosen up.”
You nod in understanding.
You think about asking him how work’s been, but decide against it, not wanting to pry in case he doesn’t want to talk about any of it.
As you both enter his apartment, it’s almost so domesticated how you take off your shoes and put them in the rack in the threshold. Jungkook wears his black sliders while you wear your baby blue ones. Following him into the living room, it’s almost wild to see yourself being so familiar with his place already.
“Where can we watch The X-Files?” Jungkook asks suddenly after he set the bags on the table, going for the remote and turning on the TV.
You look at him in surprise, not expecting him to ask that.
You answer nonetheless, and Jungkook clicks on the show once it shows up on the screen.
“Do you really want to start with the pilot episode?” You chuckle when he hovers over it.
Jungkook grins. “I enjoyed it last night. Maybe this could be a new favorite.”
“Woah,” you breathed, shaking your head. “Do you know how much I have to convince Jimin to watch this show?”
“Jimin doesn’t like shows. I wanted him to watch Suits but he said he couldn’t stand Harvey Specter – which is fair.”
“Oh my god, that’s also what he told me when I recommended Suits!” You say. You narrow your eyes at him, excited about the information. “So… you like Suits?”
Jungkook nods. “Sort of like a guilty pleasure? I used to watch it a lot in college. My roommate studied law and started telling me about how inaccurate it was, but it’s fun regardless,” He says with a shrug. “Sue me.”
“I know, right! People always wanna be smart about procedural dramas, but I think it’s just camp they can’t comprehend,” You shake your head, feeling a certain high bubble inside you. You lean your elbows on the coffee table. “Okay, okay, thoughts on Jessica Pearson?”
Jungkook grins. “A dream.”
You breathe a sigh of relief.
“I’m so glad you have the correct opinion.”
Jungkook laughs at that, and you begin to eat the take-out he bought, The X-Files playing on the big screen before you.
“You went home early today,” you comment as you take the shot glass he offers you.
A few minutes has passed already and you’re beginning to open the bottles of soju, Midday Miso take-out boxes all finished.
“Managed to finish early tonight. That’s probably why I wanted to drink,” Jungkook says, tipping his head back to drink from his own bottle. “Also, it’s your last day here.”
You nod. With a teasing smile, you jab, “Are you going to miss me?”
Jungkook looks at you briefly.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?” You ask incredulously, feigning hurt.
He chuckles. “I liked your little dance in the kitchen last Sunday.”
Your lips part, recalling that time when you reheated some pizza during the night. As far as you were concerned, Jungkook was in his bedroom at that time!
“You saw that?” You say, embarrassed.
Jungkook must’ve noticed, because he chuckles and begins to sound comforting when he says, “Some part of it, yeah. Megan Thee Stallion would love to perform with you, I think.”
“Oh my god, no,” You giggle, covering your face with your hands because if he caught you during that part, it means he saw you trying to throw it back. “Yeah, I think I’m packing my things right now.”
Jungkook laughs, and his eyes crinkle as he does so, overjoyed at your tactics.
“I thought you wanted to drink with me?”
You squint your eyes. “Just because I feel sorry for pushing you off the couch this morning.”
He shakes his head, still chuckling. “Yeah, that hurt. I think I have a bump on my head right now.”
You stop, eyes widening. “Seriously?”
Jungkook presses his lips together and nods. You grow concerned, ready to lean over the table to check the back of his head, but as you do so, Jungkook makes a sound of stifling his laugh and you realize he’s fucking with you.
“That’s so mean.” you say, going back to your side and pouting at him.
“Not meaner than you pushing me off the couch.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“Ugh, I’m sorry. You just surprised me, 's all!”
Jungkook laughs and nods his head. “I know, I know. I’m sorry about that. I have a habit of being able to sleep anywhere.”
You scrunch your face. “Me too.”
And then a beat of silence.
Jungkook tips his head back for another sip of his alcohol. When he looks at you again, a gentle smile is playing on his lips.
“I had a good night sleep, though. Did you?”
He looks at you with something in his eyes – something soft and gentle – his gaze making the hair on your nape stand and your cheeks burn.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
The night continues to envelope your surroundings and as time passes by, the empty bottles of soju multiply.
You’ve always had a high tolerance for alcohol – and soju, in particular, is generally not too strong for you personally. With one bottle in, you don’t feel hammered just yet. There’s a daze at the back of your head that you’re starting to feel, though. One and a half is your limit, sometimes two – you’ve had that down since college.
Jungkook seems to share the same trait, it seems like. You noticed he’s on his second one, and even though his cheeks are starting to get painted red, he still speaks with you like he’s a hundred percent conscious and not like alcohol’s hit his system already.
“It’s so hot,” you say, popping open the first two buttons of your shirt. Jungkook’s coat has long been disposed on the couch, and his ties are loosened, with the long sleeves of his dress shirt pushed to his elbow, showing his tattoos.
“Should I adjust the AC?” Jungkook asks, looking at you as you gather your hair up in a ponytail.
You manage to secure it even without a tie and answer him, “No, it’s fine.”
When you feel like you can breathe again, you look at Jungkook. As you think about what to say next, you giggle lightly.
“Let’s have some fun with these,” You point to the empty bottle of soju. Jungkook quirks his brow, which prompts you to continue. “Let’s play spin the bottle. When it points at you, you have to answer some questions. If you don’t want to, then you’ll have to drink.”
Jungkook snorts. “Truth or dare? Really?”
You roll your eyes. “No, not truth or dare. Just truth because I’m sophisticated like that. Besides, are you going to entertain me if I dare you to wear a rainbow suit for work tomorrow?”
“This is your idea of fun?” Jungkook says, teasing you. Playful with a boyish grin.
You shrug. “I mean, it’s quite fun, actually. But I know about how thirty-year-olds get. If it’s past your bedtime, then…” you glance at the door to his bedroom.
Jungkook bursts out in laughter.
“You like making it sound like I’m sixty, don’t you?”
“Are you?” You pout.
Jungkook chuckles, although relenting to your game proposition.
“Alright…”
You do a little shoulder dance which makes Jungkook shake his head. As you spin the bottle, it stops and points at him. You let out a little sound of enthusiasm.
“Okay. What’s that mean?” You ask. Jungkook looks confused as he tries to see what you’re looking at. His arm. “That flower tattoo – or if it even has a meaning.”
“Oh,” Jungkook utters, realizing. He lifts up his right arm and twists it so that the flower tattoo is within both your sight. There, you see a full view of the flower drawing tattooed in orange ink. You find yourself staring at it as Jungkook starts to speak, “It’s a tiger lily. My birth flower. It means…” You can see Jungkook hesitate for a little while, and you’re just about to take back your question when he continues to say, “It means please love me.”
“Wow.” You gasp. “That’s… so pretty.”
Jungkook caresses his forearm, staring quite lovingly at the art. “I know. My tattoo artist did a really good job.”
He takes it to himself to spin the bottle again, and this time, it points at you.
“Well… do you have a tattoo?” Jungkook asks, and it’s obvious he meant to tease.
You nod your head. His playful smile drops.
“Are you serious?”
You raise your brow at him. “Sorry. Only one question gets entertained.”
He clicks his tongue playfully but then begins to spin the bottle one more time. When it points at you again, he gives you a smirk.
“Can I see your tattoo if you’re saying you have one?”
You scrunch your face, cocking your head to the side.
“Hm. I don’t think so. It’s under my boob. So.”
Jungkook stills, and you watch as his eyes trail down from your face down to your collar – although he did it quite subtly.
“Oh.”
You grin. “Yeah, “oh”,” you chuckle. When he shakes his head, you tell him, “What?” You look at him weird, regardless of the smile on your lips. He stares right back at you, and you narrow your eyes at him. “Ohh, I see. You think I’m lying.”
“No, I’m not,” he scoffs. “I just thought…”
“You just thought what?”
“I just thought you wouldn’t have one. Or if you did, it’d be a like a small thing on the leg or something. I don’t know.” He shrugs, still smiling.
You grin. “Interesting insight.”
“Nevermind that.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, spinning the bottle again.
When the rotation stills at his direction, you clap a little and put your elbows on the coffee table.
Your next question sounds stupid in your head, but you let it out anyway.
“What’s your ideal type?” You ask.
“Oh, are we doing that?” Jungkook says, sounding intrigued. “Are you going to ask me about my first kiss next?”
You snort. “This feels so high school. But answer my question.”
“Yes, ma’am,” He playfully gives you a salute. You couldn’t help but giggle. “Okay, well, I like women who are smart and… funny,” Jungkook says, and when he looks at you, you move back a little. With a soft smile, he adds, “And pretty.”
You break the eye contact. Raising your brow, you nod your head. “Pretty women. Like Kang Heesu, right?”
Jungkook looks surprised when he hears the name.
“How do you know her?”
“How can I not? Jimin’s mother has been trying to set him up with her for months now.” You shrug.
Jungkook chuckles, as if he knows exactly what you’re talking about.
“Yeah. You’re right – not about the part that she’s my ideal type, though.”
You can’t help but let out a scoff.
“That’s such a cop-out answer, Jungkook.”
He looks at you incredulously, chuckling as he says, “What? It’s not a cop-out, it’s the truth.”
“You’re awfully close with her. I heard from my coworkers you’re both dating.” You raise a brow at him.
It’s true. Words are starting to get around the office that Jungkook and Heesu are more than just collaborators.
Of course, you know to ignore that. Not because you want to be in denial or anything – but because you just don’t think it is actually true.
But maybe poking fun at it will get you the confirmation. Or whatever. It doesn’t matter.
Jungkook laughs at your previous words, though, as if you just told him a big joke.
“God, no,” he shakes his head, as if he couldn’t believe it. “They’re really saying that?” You nod your head, your lips pressed into a thin line. “I ought to make everybody know we’re just working together. You know about the project the company has in collaboration with Kang Tech, right?”
“Yeah.”
“There you go,” Jungkook chuckles. “I’m not dating Kang Heesu.”
The words feel a bit different in your ears. Paired with the way he looked at you as he said it, he sounded as though he was… almost assuring you.
But of what?
You shake off the idea in your head.
“Okay. Next one.” you interrupt the silence to change the subject. You curse in your head when the bottle stops at you.
“Your turn. What’s your ideal type?” Jungkook asks as if his tongue is just itching to ask you that. You know he’s just excited to get back at you.
You think about it for a moment, though, and you find you don’t really know what to say.
It’s not a thought you ponder over a lot. The guys that you’ve been with were so… different from each other.
“I—I’m not sure,” you shake your head, genuine.
Jungkook points at the shot glass. “New rule. I’ll count to ten and if you don’t answer, you drink.”
You glare at him; he just gives you a grin.
“I really don’t know! I mean, my past relationships are so different from each other,” you say, pouting. “But— okay. I guess I like guys who are… confident,” You look at Jungkook and then let your mind float. “And I guess I also like somebody who’s…” You watch as he leans in closer to wait for your next words. Your feel blood rushing to your cheeks as you finish up with, “Attentive. I like good listeners. Yeah.”
“Ah,” Jungkook nods. And then, he adds, “Is Shin Taemu from the IT department a good listener, then?”
Your brows furrow. “Shin Taemu?” He nods. That earns a laugh from you. “No, we’re friends.”
“Friends?” Jungkook asks curiously.
“Well, we – uh – did date. Didn’t work out. So. We’re only friends now.”
“Date, as in, a long relationship?” His eyes are so full of genuine curiosity that you cower away from them.
You shake your head at his question. “No, no – not long relationship, it wasn’t like that. I meant date as in – dinner date. Once.” You look at the shot glass and down it because of the sudden nerves that enter you. “We’re doing this game wrong.”
Jungkoon chuckles at the way you drink another glass. He mirrors your action, though, and ask, “How so? We’re questioning each other.”
“Yeah, but it’s too many questions!” You complain, jutting your lips into a pout.
“You said you only wanted truth, so there goes your questions,” Jungkook says. You roll your eyes, which makes him laugh. “Okay, just so I can amuse you, I’ll do a dare if it points at me, and you’ll do one if it stops at you. Deal?”
When you nod, Jungkook spins the bottle. He did it quite forcefully that the bottle takes a longer time to stop. You both watch keenly as it begins to slow down. Nervous, you pray it doesn’t stop at you, and you let out a sigh of relief when it finally points to Jungkook.
Jungkook shakes his head when you let out a contained, “Yes!”
“I dare you to…” you trail off, watching as he looks at you curiously. “Let me pluck your brows.”
“What?” Jungkook asks incredulously.
“A promise is a promise.” You remind him.
“Like all of them?”
“What? Of course no!” You chuckle, seeing the genuine panic in his eyes.
“Oh.”
“You silly,” You say, laughing at him. “Not right now, though. I actually feel like I’m about to pass out. Oh my god, I have to tend to a hung-over tomorrow.” You let your face fall into your hands and stifle a groan.
“I’ll cook us some porridge or something, don’t worry.” Jungkook says. Curiously, he asks, “Why do you want to pluck my brows?”
You stare at him, and then focus your eyes onto his brows.
Pouting, you let your shoulders deflate as you sigh. “They’re so thick.”
“What?” Jungkook lets out, laughing incredulously. “I’m so confused.”
“You wouldn’t get it.”
“Okay… well, would you let me pluck your brows?”
You try to think about it.
“No,” you shake your head. You add, “Unless you’re flirting with me.”
Jungkook stops. And then raises a brow. “Unless I’m flirting with you…”
You snap your eyes to look at him. Mirroring his brow, you ask, “Are you flirting with me?”
“Maybe,” Jungkook looks at you, lips tilted into a barely-there smirk that suddenly makes your cheeks burn with heat. “Do you like it?”
It takes you a while to answer, processing his words. You don’t know if he’s joking or what. Is this just his usual teasing? It feels different this time.
But why are you denying it again to yourself, though? You may be stupid sometimes, but you know his teasing gets a little… borderline flirty. You’re scared to ask him about it outright, though – afraid to be faced with the possible truth that it’s just your head playing mind-tricks for you; that Jungkook, with his teasing, is not flirty at all and you’re just flattering yourself to think about it that way.
But right now, his question feels real.
If he is flirting with you… do you like it?
You pour a drink into the shotglass and down it quickly. You feel your vision starting to get a little hazy as you put it down the table.
Jungkook realizes what you just did, and then throw his head back to laugh.
“Now, that was a cop-out.” He says, pointing to the trick that you just did.
You give him a smirk. “No rules about not answering except down a drink.”
Jungkook chuckles. “Smart girl.”
He watches as you stand up, but when you trip over the carpet, he’s quick to follow and go over to your direction to hold your wrist, his arm going around your waist to guide you to stand upright.
“You okay?” He asks. When you look up, your faces are just a hair's breadth away.
“Hm.” You hum, blinking your eyes up at him. You find it’s because your lids are starting to get heavy.
“Be careful.” Jungkook says, but he doesn’t let go of your waist, nor your wrist.
You stand there in the middle of the living room with that position, and weirdly enough, you feel like you’re both glued on it.
You can’t move – or don’t want to. You wish you want to. But you don’t, and it’s why you let Jungkook’s fingers trail softly to your waist.
“You look real sleepy,” he comments – whispers, more like, his bated breath hitting your skin.
“I am a bit dazy.” You say, finding yourself indulging in his touch.
Somehow, Jungkook never makes a move to get away even when you’re already steady on both feet. You feel that fading away so soon though, your knees starting to feel like they’re about to buckle at the way Jungkook’s eyes bore deep into your own. You feel a sort of heightened sense within your body, his hand on your back making something in you tingle.
It’s so intimate – the position. Jungkook looms over you with his much bigger frame and with his support on your back, you can just let yourself fall back.
Can you, though? Are you sure he’s going to catch you?
“You do look a little dazy,” Jungkook comments, but his eyes have traveled down to your face, and you can see them stop at your lips.
That makes them part.
You see Jungkook’s adam’s apple bobbing at the action.
“I do feel dazy,” you say, parroting back his words. Maybe they’re coming off slurred. You don’t know. You find you don’t care.
Jungkook’s lips tilt into a gentle smile. Soft like his demeanor. Soft like his arm that somehow found a way to tighten its hold around you even though you don’t need it. But it’s Jungkook though, and as much as you deny it even to yourself – you do like his touch.
“Yeah, you told me so.” His voice becomes an octave lower. His hands start to rub your clothed waist, and the ministrations of his thumb distract you a bit.
You roam your eyes around his face – noting the scar on his cheek which story you want to know so bad. When you trail you eyes down to his lips, you see the mole under it. You don’t think you were being subtle at all – it’s quite obvious that you’re just staring.
And you know Jungkook notices.
“Jungkook,” you breathed out, calling him about nothing in particular.
His only response is a small, gentle hum.
A beat of silence, and you feel Jungkook’s face leaning closer to yours.
You don’t make a move away from him, just let your legs stay where they are, letting Jungkook slowly pull you to him. You can tell his movements are slower than usual – like he’s testing the waters, searching for something in your eyes, quietly asking if it’s okay – if what he’s about to do is okay.
It makes your heart hammer against your chest – his breathing becoming more audible in your own ears. His mouth reeks of the soju you both drank earlier, but you’ve always liked the smell of it, especially when it comes with a man as breathtaking as him.
You feel the tip of his nose touching yours, your chest pressing against his own, his hand travelling from your waist to the back of your head.
When Jungkook leans down to close the gap, you swerve your face just in time to have his lips press against your hair instead.
“I’m sleepy.” You say quietly, a nervous lilt to your voice. You duck your head a little lower, laying your face on his chest and bury it with his scent.
You can feel Jungkook freeze in his position, taken aback by the sudden turn of events. You hope he doesn’t feel the way your heart goes abnormal in your chest with such proximity – but right now, all you want to do is hide. Hide your face away from him because if he sees you, he’ll know exactly what you’re thinking.
He’ll know exactly the effect he has on you.
It takes a few seconds of silence before Jungkook comes back to you.
“Hm,” He hums, and you feel his hand letting go of your wrist to wrap around your waist, squeezing for a brief moment. Jungkook’s other hand cradles your head to his chest, swiping his hand against your hair in a repeated manner, and with the way he rests his chin on the crown of your head, you feel comfort in the whole thing. “We should sleep.”
“Yeah…” you trail off, and you can just feel your lids getting heavier at the remark.
“Yeah?”
“Hm.”
“I’ll take the couch. Do you want to shower first?” You shake your head against his chest. You feel it vibrating when he chuckles. “Okay.”
“My body feels like jelly.” You say, and you feel that to be actually true.
“Is that code for “carry me to your bed, Jungkook”?”
You’re thankful your face is buried in his chest as you smile widely.
“Do you want it to be?”
“I don’t mind.”
You nod. “Good. I think I’ll get alcohol poisoning tomorrow.”
You feel Jungkook lifting his chin off your head as he sounds scold-y when he says, “Don’t joke like that.”
You giggle against his chest.
“Carry me before I pass out.”
Jungkook snorts. “Ohh. Bossy.”
“It’s my last day here. I deserve some slack.” You grumble.
“Fine.”
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