Not Just Friends - 1 -
Prologue : Next Part : Not edited : 3.6k words : M.List
Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends?
CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any)
Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.
"How was work?" You asked, putting your coffee cup filled with tea down on the coffee table aside from the couch. Not looking up from the chapter book that rested in your hands.
A sigh was all that left his lips as you heard him kick his boots off and hang his keys next to the door.
"That bad?" you asked, looking up at the ash blonde who was now rubbing his face roughly as he made his way over to the couch you were laid across. He hummed in response. With you laid across the couch, back rested against the armrest, you pulled your feet in to make room for him. He sat down roughly, instantly sinking all of his weight into the couch. He looked at you briefly, "You don't gotta do that y'know?"
"Do what?" you peered at him confused. He just rolled his eyes lazily and grabbed your legs to stretch them out again, placing them over his lap. He didn't look back at you, just closed his eyes and leaned his head back, resting his hands on your calves. It was hard to mask the surprise on your face, normally after a rough day he would take a shower and prefer to be alone for the night, maybe making dinner for the two of you and watching a show. Yet he hardly ever asked for physical touch.
"Do you want to watch a show?" you asked, trying to determine the type of help he wanted.
He sat silent for a moment, "How was your day?" He leaned his head to the side, looking at you.
You fought over the questions that came up, confused about why he chose you as a topic. But you chose against bringing them up, "Just did some quick testing for new equipment, I'm about to be finished with your new gloves too. They just finished the first stage of testing," you smiled, hoping the good news would make him happy. After all, he asked for new gloves close to a month ago.
He just stared at your face for a while before you realized he wanted you to continue. The words caught in your mouth as you analyzed the look on his face for a moment. Thinking that maybe this was the 'look' your close friends always talked about. The face that showed how truly in love he was with you.
"I also finished Z's stuff," Izuku, "so today was a productive day. Yet it was easy too, all I really needed to do was your stuff and his. After that it was just paperwork," you added on. Picking up the throw pillow on the couch and placing it in your lap to play with the tassels on the edges. Avoiding the overwhelming look he was giving you. "Came home only an hour ago, showered, and picked up my book," you looked down at the book that was placed on the couch beside you, where you placed it when Katsuki sat down.
You normally came home an hour before him. He always sent you a text saying he'd be home soon, so you packed up from work and headed home after receiving it. It was one of the best perks about being head of your technical support department. It maximized your time with him. Leaving the house shortly after him every day, and coming home only an hour before him. Kept you productive and caught up at work every day, never stressing about due dates because of how often you were at work.
"That's nice," Katsuki finally spoke, eyes soft as he looked over every feature on your face. When you looked up you saw the dark circles that surrounded his eyes.
"How was your day?" You asked softly, trying to tell him he didn't need to answer.
He squeezed your calf, looking away from you for the first time since he sat down. "Rough," he said, voice slightly cracked.
"What happened?" you pushed.
He sighed, "A young couple was caught in a bad villain attack, she didn't make it."
Katsuki always took deaths hard, as any hero did. He saw himself as a complete failure after every death. It's only happened personally to him a couple of times and he always took it just as roughly. Often following you around the apartment after getting home, gluing himself to your presences.
No words would help him. All you could think of was trying to console him in any way possible. So you got up from your spot, shifting your body so you could lean your head against his shoulder. Feeling him instantly rest his head against yours. You fumbled for the TV remote, putting on one of his favorite movies before you fully rested against him. Wrapping your arms around his, hugging him close.
Moments like this were far and in between for the two of you. You hardly hugged, only on the bad or good days. But despite that, he still felt like home. You wished this would be the daily but were okay to settle for what he was okay with. Never wanting to push him too far.
This.
This was your normal for the bad days. The good days just had a celebratory hug and that was it.
-
A couple of days passed and you were out with friends. With you forcing Katsuki to come out as well. After all, the group has been inviting him for the past six months. Izuku, Uraraka, Todoroki, Tsuu, Ida, Momo, Mei and her friend Nana were all there. All of you were sat in Izuku's living room. Izuku was across the coffee table from you, seated in a matching lounge chair as the one Katsuki was in behind you. You opting to sit on the floor in front of Katsuki, wanting to be closer to the girls who also chose to sit on the floor. Uraraka seated in front of Izuku, Mei, and Nana seated in front of the TV but facing the group, Todoroki, Ida, and Momo all sat on the couch, and Tsuu was on the floor beside you.
The conversation naturally divided, the boys choosing to talk about the new ranks and techniques they've learned and the girls talking about whatever. You shifted focus between the two conversations, keeping track of the hero equipment the boys might need. You were deeply invested in the rant Izuku fell into about how he'd need new gloves to combat his new move.
Your attention was snapped to the girls when your name was called out. All of them awaiting your response. "Sorry, wasn't paying attention," you blinked at them.
"Oh, Nana was just talking about her relationship problems, and you're in one right?" Mei asked, helping Nana out since this was the first time she's hung out with the group and she was rather shy.
You furrowed your brows, "Yeah? Whatsup?" After all, they did just ask if you were in a relationship right in front of your boyfriend. Maybe Mei was filling Nana in.
"So," Nana started, messing with her hands, "my partner is um, sorry I don't know how to explain it well." Mei shot Nana a smile, nodding at her to go ahead. She took a deep breath, "So, my love language is physical touch and they aren't very strong on it. And I just don't know what to do, like should I try to work it out or is the relationship dead? I've had a relationship like this before and it died off fast."
"I say it's dead," Mei added. Uraraka and Tsuu nodding in agreement as well.
Momo sighed, "I think communication is needed first, then decided. Try to work around it first."
You looked between the girls, "I agree with Momo, not trying doesn't solve anything. Plus if you could work around it with your second strongest love language, I think it could still work, if they really couldn't meet halfway with physical touch."
"What do you mean?" Nana tilted her head at you, and all of the girl's eyes shifted to you.
You flushed, "Well for me, like in my relationship," you cringed at the idea of bluntly talking about it right in front of him. Hopefully, Izuku's ramble would keep him from paying attention. "My biggest love language is physical touch, but he doesn't quite like it so there isn't a lot of it. So," you struggled to find the words to properly explain how your relationship was working, "My second favorite is quality time, I guess, and we spend a lot of time together. The other three are also up there, He often cooks for me and stuff, buying me random things too. And our relationship works just fine," you shrugged.
Mei frowned at you, "How are you still with him if he doesn't do your favorite thing?" disgust listed in her voice.
"Well I'm okay with whatever he is okay with," you brushed off her disdain.
"I don't know how you do it either," Tsuu agreed.
"Nana, maybe you shouldn't listen to her," Mei shrugged, "A relationship won't work long-term if that's how you go about it. Maybe just talk to them first but if they can't meet halfway leave."
"Yeah," Nana looked around shyly, giving you a sympathetic smile.
You leaned back into Katsuki's chair, giving up on the conversation as the girls carried it away. Only then did you notice that Katsuki was tapping his foot aggressively. When you looked up at the blonde, his hands were clenched and folded into his chest as he stared straight ahead with a frown.
He was clearly done with the group outing.
You stood up, gaining the eyes of everyone in the room. "Kats and I are going to head out," you announced. Walking over to grab his and your coat. Katsuki getting up as well to meet you at the door.
"Oh lemme walk you out," Izuku jumped up, walking to you guys as the rest waved and said their goodbyes from their seats.
Izuku walked the both of you to the elevator, "You're leaving earlier than normal, everything okay?" Izuku whispered to you.
"You know Kats doesn't like outings," you smiled at him, "Nothing to worry about." Izuku eyed you, knowing what you said wasn't entirely true.
Izuku stood straight up, having leaned down to talk to you, once you reached the elevator. "I'm glad you made it this time Kacchan," Izuku beamed.
Katsuki grumbled in reply, facing away and walking into the opened elevator.
The lack of a 'shut up' confused the both of you. So you turned to huge Izuku goodbye, taking the green-haired boy out of shock. "Nice seeing you 'Z, I'll start working on your new gloves," you smiled.
"Thank you, I'll text you everything I want added," he smiled, "Goodnight!" He waved goodbye before walking back to his door. You turned around to a grumpy Katsuki holding the elevator door open for you.
"Sorry," you mumbled, quickly stepping inside. When the door closed you took the chance to question his, "Whatsup?"
"Nothing," he crossed his arms again.
"Come on Kats," you crossed your arms as well.
He sighed, "Your love language really physical touch?" he looked at you briefly, allowing you to see the embarrassment that coated his cheeks.
You paled at the realization he heard the entire conversation, "Yeah," you admitted, "not a requirement for me though."
He just let out a louder sigh and brought his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes aggressively.
"Kats?"
"What?" he grumbled.
"You okay?" you leaned closer to him, trying to see his face.
"Yeah," he dropped his hands, and stared at the number above the door, watching it tick to the ground floor.
"No you're not-," you tried, being interrupted by the elevator door opening, Katsuki rushing to the parking garage to leave.
Abruptly ending the conversation.
-
The drive home he blasted the radio, not giving you the option to turn it down and talk. Rushing inside your apartment as well. Quickly hiding himself in his room. You turned around with a scoff when he shut the door right in your face, going to your room for the night as well.
The next morning he left without a goodbye, all you heard from him was the front door shutting behind him.
Throughout the work day, he also ignored your messages. Leaving you alone for lunch rather than sharing it with you like he normally did. Not even texting you when he'd be home. The only thing you got from him was his calendar update, which wasn't even intentional. Seeing how he had moved his meetings for the day to fit in a meeting with Izuku last minute for the day.
So without any notice from him, you headed home near 6 in the afternoon. Which was normally the time you came home, so he should be home in an hour. Taking your shoes and coat off when you entered the apartment. Putting your keys away as well. Walking down the hall to your bedroom. Running into the ash blonde leaving his.
He paused for a minute, hand left on his doorknob as he looked at you. You crossed your arms impatiently, for one he was in the way of your bedroom and he also ignored you for the past day. He shut his door eventually, still blocking the hallway.
"Sorry," he muttered.
You drop your arms to your side, "Why?"
"Just felt weird," he mumbled, looking down at your shoes.
"Not going to tell me?" you furrowed your brows. He stayed silent. "Fine," you sighed, "Could you move? I want to shower, I'll be in the living room soon."
He stepped out of the way, moving to the side of the small hallway.
So you did just as you said. Walking into your room to grab clothes then going straight to the shower. Washing the day away as you washed your hair. Thinking over Katsuki's behavior since last night. And his reluctance to talk about it.
When you got out of the shower and dressed, you walked to the living room.
Katsuki was busy cooking, chopping vegetables, and dropping them into the pan. Adding meats and sauces as well. His brows were furrowed and his nose was scrunched. His thinking face. He was in his own world. Breaking out of it when you opened the fridge to grab a drink.
"'M makin' curry, keepin' the spices separate, don't worry," he grumbled over his shoulder.
He was going to play off his behavior like it was normal.
"Okay," you spoke, making your way to sit on the stool placed on the side of the island, seated right in front of him. You took a drink of your drink, "So you had a meeting with Z today?"
His knife paused for a moment, hovering over the carrot he was cutting. He glanced up, "Huh?"
"Your calendar?" you hinted, " I saw that you arranged a meeting with him last second. What did you need to talk about with him?"
He looked back down, "Nothin," he resumed cutting. You shot him a glare. One that, with so much time spent together, he could feel it without even looking. His shoulders sagged, giving in, "Just went over some tactics. I also went to him about a, um," he coughed lightly, "A support item in a way."
You perked up, filled with questions, "How come you didn't come to me?"
"I was askin' him if I should, was trying to see if it was even a good idea," he shrugged.
"What is it?" you crossed your arms, placing your forearms on the counter and leaning on them.
He finished chopping the vegetables, scooping them all into a pot, and letting it simmer. He turned back to you, leaning onto the counter. "So you know how I keep breaking the watches you buy me?"
"Yeah?" you questioned, not knowing how this involved work.
"Well, could you make me one?" he looked at your face. You were waiting for him to continue. "Like make it fireproof, waterproof-"
"Youproof?" you smiled, summing up what he was going to say.
"Yeah," he sighed in relief, glad he didn't have to explain every detail. "But I want one more thing added to it if you can."
"Kats, I can do literally everything," you smiled cockily.
"Can you make it disable my quirk?" he looked down at his hands.
"Why?"
"Just nice to be relaxed without it, can also help with my training. Then could you also make it so no one can try to cancel my quirk? All these quirk-removing things nowadays," he fumbled with his hands, mumbling out his words.
"Probably, I can definitely make it cancel your quirk, but making no one able to cancel yours, will be a bit hard. I'll make it combat most," you suggested.
"Okay," he sighed before looking at you, putting a finger in your face, " Also make it so only I can make it cancel my quirk. Like, put a password or some shit on it."
"Trust me, I was going to anyways," you laughed.
"Good," he grunted, turning back to the food on the stove.
"How come you needed Z for that?" you asked after a bit.
"Didn't know if it'd kill me or something," he shrugged. You wished you could have seen his face but his back was facing you.
"Also, Kats," you called. He turned to face you, "Answer my texts next time, hard to tell if you're alive or not," you frowned.
"Sorry," he mumbled, looking back to his food.
The conversation died at that, switching to him talking about what he was cooking. Filling up the silence with meaningless words and the scraping of food being placed in a bowl for you.
He placed a bowl in front of you and sat beside you. You could have eaten at the table but walking didn't seem like something you wanted to do, despite it only being a couple of steps away. Shaking your head when he asked if you wanted to eat at the table.
After a few bites of food and small talk about the other day, your phone buzzed. Face up on the table between you two. Lighting up with an unknown number
xxx-xxxx
Hey! This is Nana from last night. I got your number from Mei, I apologize if you don't appreciate that-
You opened your phone to read the rest, leaving it on the table as you continued to eat.
xxx-xxxx
Hey! This is Nana from last night. I got your number from Mei, I apologize if you don't appreciate that but I felt the need to text you. I saw how uncomfortable you were last night, talking about your boyfriend. And how he doesn't like touching you. I hope you know it's okay, and people are there for you. I was in a relationship like that once, and it was hard but it ended and I'm okay now. I remember how uncomfortable I was talking about him, making up excuses for how our relationship worked. How he refused to touch me, unless it was.. harshly, for lack of a better word, and degraded me. Reminded me of how you were talking about your boyfriend. Just know I'm here for you, and you're beautiful and strong.
You read over the text a couple of times, trying to make sure you understood what she was saying. After you were one hundred percent sure, you looked up from your phone, glancing at Katsuki, who was staring at your phone like he wanted to kill it. Holding his spoon like it shot his foot.
"She thinks I fuckin' beat you or somethin'?" He looked at you.
You looked back down at your phone, "Think so."
"The fuck?" he put his spoon back into his bowl roughly, "The fuck did I do?"
"I don't think she realized I was dating you," you defend.
"Still? How in the hell?" he glared at your phone, "Just cause we don't touch a shit ton that means I fuckin' beat you?"
"Kats-" you reached a hand out towards him.
"No," he stood up, "That's fucking bullshit. It's not that bad that we don't, right?" He looked at you "Right?"
"Right," you confirmed, "She misread the situation that's all. Now eat," you pointed to his food. "I'll let her know she was wrong, and that we are fine and happy."
"Are we?" he asked, voice soft. You looked at him, the words stabbing at your heart. "Are you?" he reworded, voice on edge.
"Katsuki, what?" you looked at his eyes. He looked lost. "Katsuki," you spoke softly, "Of course I am, I'm with the best. Why wouldn't I be?"
He brought his hands to his face, rubbing at his face as he always did. "Okay, just," he grumbled, "Fuck, I don't know." He went quiet, sitting down and finishing his bowl of curry before washing his empty dish, and taking yours when you were done.
He was overwhelmed and frustrated, so you stayed quiet as well. Texting Nana back instead.
-You-
Hi! I appreciate this but the situation was completely misread. I was just uncomfortable because he was sitting right behind me. The ash blonde, number two hero Dynamight. Felt weird talking about my relationship with him right there. I'm very happy with him, so nothing bad is happening. Thank you for your concern, and I'm glad you got out of that bad relationship. I hope your new partner fixes their behavior.
Nana
I am so sorry then. I had no idea! I shouldn't have assumed. I should have asked a bit more about it before I jumped straight to that conclusion, I am so sorry!
"I texted her," you told Katsuki, "She feels bad and had no idea I was dating you."
He grunted in reply, walking on scrubbing the dish in his hands. "When can you get my watch done?" he switched topics.
"Maybe a month, with the whole people can't cancel your quirk," you shrugged, "Could you write me everything you want added to it?"
"Yeah," he mumbled, "I'll leave a note on the counter for you tomorrow."
-Next Part-
In them m.list of this fic comment if you want to be added into a tag list <3
I'll no longer add people to the taglist if they haven't commented there. It's too much to keep up with all the new part. Hope you understand <3
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baby, don't go | myg
➥pairing | ex!min yoongi x f!reader, mentioned f!reader x omc
➥word count | 5.1k
➥warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, squirting, hand job, finger fucking, porn w/ plot, angst w/ a happy ending, alcohol, exes to lovers, implied cheating (omc is a fuckboy), implied getting back together (reader & yoongi still low key love each other), idol!yoongi
➥summary | "hii can I request for an exes to lovers trope with yoongi 😭💖 lovee your ficss"
you find out your boyfriend is cheating on you. thankfully your ex Yoongi is more than happy to distract you.
➥notes | hope you enjoy this anon 😘💚 omc & ofc are named after characters from one of my favourite k-dramas (personal taste iykyk)
💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚
Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.
Standing beside you, your friend Kae-In takes a swig of whatever's in her cup - a sickly sweet concoction of fruity soju and Chilsung, most likely - and coolly surveys the backyard.
Small groups of people dot the manicured lawn, others lounging by the fire as they catch up with one another. It's been far too long since everyone's schedules aligned like this.
Years in fact, and there are several who came in from out of town.
Ordinarily you'd be over the moon, but as it were you can barely drum up enough false excitement for your best friend. Let alone others you haven't seen in forever.
Cocking her hip, Kae-In puckers her mouth. "The alcohol isn't even that good." She sighs, pretty face scrunching in disappointment. "Some party this is turning out to be."
Your hard cider, still more than half-full, hides an awkward, ill-fitting smile.
Having nursed your own drink for the last hour, whatever might've been enjoyable about it is long gone. Any refreshing coolness and bright, punchy taste replaced by amber liquid far past room temperature in your clammy palm.
In fact, the fizzy warmth and tart aftertaste of moldering apples turns your stomach with every half-hearted sip.
"At least there's cute guys here - some of them have really grown up."
Her breath ruffles the fringe of her bangs when she huffs, casting an eye to the glass bottle strangled in your grip.
"Are you sure you don't want something a little stronger?"
You shrug. "Yeah, I'm fine - gotta be the DD just in case, y'know?"
"Girl, you're ALWAYS the DD. C'mon, you gotta live a little sometimes."
The nonchalant scolding stings, even if it's meant almost entirely in jest but it's not Kae-In's fault. She doesn't know. No one does. You couldn't muster up the courage to tell her the truth.
Not yet.
It's still too fresh. The wound too raw to go poking around with clumsy fingers.
"Don't be like that," you say with a faltering smile. "I'm having fun."
LIAR.
In actuality, you're a few frayed threads away from snapping. Stuck clinging to the edge of sanity by the fingernails as you battle back tides of crippling grief and blinding rage.
Have been since the first few messages came rolling in; questions with videos attached. There's a part of you grateful they reached out, while another altogether wishes you hadn't seen.
At least not until morning.
Would one more night spent in ignorant bliss have been too much to ask for?
Now you're riding a corkscrew of emotion, one that roils and chafes as ceaseless images parade past your eyelids with every blink. Each one as crisp and clear as the first time you pressed play.
The swirling lights, the heady thrum of bodies. A darkened corner. Your boyfriend of three years who said he couldn't make it. His hand sneaking beneath the hem of a cheap, glittery skirt. The dip of his head as he tucks into the curve of a neck, mouth open and smiling against bare skin.
You shudder, stomach rebelling. When you swallow, it's like trying to down buckets of sand.
Kae-In, none the wiser, flicks her hair over her shoulder. "Well, that makes one of us. I guess." Shrugging, she turns to you and asks with a furrowed brow, "Are you sure you're okay? You seem... a little off."
Panic grabs you by the throat.
This was supposed to be a night full of fun and laughter. You're not supposed to be suffocating in a crowded backyard. On the brink of tears and trying to act like your life hasn't imploded.
Alone - by your own doing, which is even worse - to deal with the crushing weight of an inevitable breakup. The painful extrication of two lives entwined.
How a relationship three years in the making can be shattered in a minute and forty-five seconds is mind boggling. You had it all, and now...
You thought you were going to marry him.
The whiplash of it all almost makes you laugh but only so you don't break down in great, heaving sobs. A heartbreak you're not sure you'll ever recover from. Not for the loss of him but rather the decimation of your trust.
"I'm okay, promise! No need to worry."
The lie weighs heavy on your tongue. Tastes of ash as the words you really want to say hover in the back of your throat, a breath away. Only they can't make it past your lips, stuck to your teeth like hard candy.
"It's just been one of those days."
Your shoulders shoot towards your ears when she hums in response. Fingernails picking at the corner of the sweating cider label so you don't have to meet Kae-In's piercing gaze. You know she can see right through you, and you hate it.
What started as a fun night of planned mayhem turned into desperate distractions though this party has done very little in terms of brightening your mood.
Instead, watching everyone you know have a good time while you stand on the side lines, a stranger in a sea of people, feels more akin to rubbing salt in an open wound.
Miserable but acting like you’re not; waves of bitter loneliness threatening to pull you under because you don’t want to ruin the night.
“Is this because Chang-ryul couldn’t make it?” Kae-In pats your back sympathetically. “What bullshit excuse did he give you this time? I swear, he always does this. Just wait. I’m gonna hit him next time I see him.”
Oh, you don’t even know, you think. You’ll definitely want to do more than hit him.
Your heart throbs at the sound of his name, and isn’t that funny? Such a simple thing - nothing but syllables and letters strung together - and yet it has the power to unmake you completely.
Your tongue swells as you struggle to swallow. Words burn like bile as you force out a laugh; brittle, scraped up from the depths of your chest
“I’d pay to see that,” you croak. Your knuckles ache from how tightly you’re gripping the bottle. “But - no. C-Chang-ryul has nothing to do with it.”
You hate that you stutter over his name.
And perhaps that’s why you don’t want to tell Kae-In just yet.
She’s always hated him.
Always said he was no good. Just another fuckboy looking for beds to warm and hearts to break. And she’s right.
God, why does she have to be right?
You know she’d never hold it over you, but the thought of admitting it - out loud - makes you want to vomit all over your shoes. You need time to stitch your edges back together. Too raw and ragged.
You only just found out.
Your pride can’t handle any more hits right now.
She thumbs her nose with an inelegant snort. “Whatever you say. I could take him in a fight. That boy ain’t shit.”
Your laugh startles you - the first genuine one of the evening - and you shake your head fondly. A soft smile tugs at your lips.
“Oh, no doubt. But really, I’ve just been in a weird mood.”
The twist of her lips shows she doesn’t believe a word you’re saying, but she’s kind enough not to press. Instead, she spends the next while distracting you with tales of her various escapades of the week.
And it helps for a time, truly.
But then you feel a buzz against your thigh, a ding echoing up from your pocket. Your stomach turns to lead, drops to your feet. Without looking at the screen, you pull the cell out of your pocket with shaky hands and quickly flick the ringer off.
Meanwhile, Kae-In watches silently with sharp eyes, and an even sharper frown though she declines to comment on your behavior.
“Anyway,” she continues once she has your attention, “as I was saying, did you see little Ji-Seok? Dude shot up like a tree! Last time I saw him he was as big as a bean sprout.”
You hum, worlds away.
“You could at least act like you’re paying attention,” she sucks her teeth before a smirk starts to slowly tug at her lips, “How about we talk about something - or someone - I know you’ll be interested in?”
Guilt sparks but slowly gives way to dread. You know that expression. Have gotten into trouble more times than you can count because of it.
Heart tattooing a rhythm against your rib cage, you sputter, “Oh no. No! Do not look at me like that.”
“C’mo-on!” she wheedles. “You’re absolutely right. We should be talking about,” she points at someone across the yard with her cup, “Yoongi instead.”
Currently leaning back against a stone wall making up part of the fence, Yoongi nurses a beer. Sticking out like a sore thumb now that he’s making it big as an idol, no longer as mundane as the rest of them.
Hushed whispers follow his every move, his bleached hair and flashy outfit commanding all sorts of covert attention.
The sharp cut of his shirt flatters his lean frame, the black leather jacket over top emphasizing the width of his shoulders. Dark jeans cling to his legs, as tight as a second skin, and causing your attention to stray where it shouldn’t.
And his eyes - oh, how you ever forgot is beyond you.
Dark, hooded, deep, and hungry; intense as they drag over the planes of your face like the caress of his fingers.
Shit.
You shove Kae-In’s hand down with a loud smack before she makes an even bigger fool out of you in front of another ex.
“What the hell are you doing?” You hiss. “That’s so rude!”
Not to mention embarrassing as fuck.
“Y’know,” she pauses to wiggle her brows and shoot you an impish grin, “I bet Yoongi would be more than happy to remind you of how rude he can be.”
You smother a groan in your hands, heartache temporarily forgotten. “I can’t believe you. Seriously. We’re no longer friends.”
“Bitch, you love me. And anyway, you know what I can’t believe?” She asks. “You!”
She gestures towards him again amid your flailing attempts to stop her. “Look at him. Like goddamn, you had it good.”
You take a sip of cider to give your hands something to do, nearly blanching at the warm liquid. Refusing to respond or look up as the topic of conversation watches like a hawk, gaze heavy.
How can he still make you weak-kneed after all this time?
He wasn’t even touching you and you still feel his presence down to your toes, setting your teeth on edge.
You hear your own heartbeat, your breathing shaky, sparks of awareness dancing along your spine. Heat creeps into the apples of your cheeks.
“Knock it off, I’m serious.”
“No, when are you going to get that Chang-ryul isn’t good for you?”
You swallow roughly, all the moisture leaving your mouth.
“Yoongi was the best boyfriend you ever had and treated you the way you deserve. And you know he’s never been interested in anyone but you. Hell, he’s barely looked away from you since he got here and the break-up was years ago.”
You shift, perspiration breaking out on your brow. “Can we please stop talking about this?”
“When will you give it up?” She blows a raspberry, shaking her head. “I know you regret how it went down between you guys. Now that he’s here - when you finally have a chance to make it right you just - just - ugh!”
Shooting her a weak half-smile and a shrug, you turn your attention to the small glowing fire pit.
Other’s are gathered around it, relishing in the glow of warmth that wars against the balmy summer breeze cutting through the air. Focusing on the dance and flicker of the flames is a needed moment of peace in entropy.
Though you know it isn’t going to last - not with a motormouth for a friend.
“So-o, what are you waiting for?”
“Sorry?”
She nods towards Yoongi subtly.
He’s finally busy with his own conversation, his gummy smile a quick flash of brightness. “When are you going to stick it to Chang-ryul and hop on that dick?”
“Oh my god!”
Kae-In shrugs. “What.”
“Don’t 'what' me. Seriously?”
A bony elbow digs between your ribs. You wheeze.
“C’mon,” she says, “You already know it’s good with him, and you deserve someone who’s there for you 110%. Someone who will treat you right. You know I worry about you.”
A wave of emotions threatens to completely drown you in that moment, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Her tender concern - her care - feels altogether too much and not enough.
As overwhelming as a tsunami; your heart a raw, exposed nerve.
All you’ve ever wanted was to be loved.
To feel like someone’s first and only choice.
You used to think Chang-ryul was someone who could provide that. What a fool you’ve been. Men like him don’t fall in love, they only pretend to.
They sneak inside your heart and take what they want from your bed. To him, you’re nothing but a fun little stop; a footnote, read and forgotten.
Your heart squeezes, shuddering from a pain your palm can’t soothe away.
It’s a terrible idea.
But maybe…
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to lick your wounds with someone you know cares about you. Has always cared about you, and probably always will.
Clearing your throat, you consider his profile from beneath your lashes.
Yoongi's always made you feel wanted. Looked after you as though you were something rare and precious.
It’s been a long time since you’ve felt that.
Somehow, some way, he senses you looking because he pauses mid-sentence.
Turns to meet you head-on, tracing your face with what can only be called greed. Stopping short when they catch on the lip trapped between your teeth.
Something akin to hunger cuts across his face.
His brows dip low, a palpable heat flooding the inky depths of his eyes. Shadows deepen the lines of his face, the shifting firelight highlighting the flex of a jawline for days, burning halo gold in his hair.
It’s a look you’re intimately familiar with.
Usually preceding a hand-shaking, mind-numbing fuck session where his cock gets as deep as it can, rutting hard and fast, bringing you over the edge again and again until you’re left a wrecked mess.
Your heart jumps, gallops headlong into a rapid beat.
You feel the rush of blood in your chest, every breath stuttered, stomach lurching. Shaking. Jittery. Tongue tied in a thousand knots and you haven’t even said a word.
It was much easier to pretend you weren’t so magnetically drawn to Yoongi when you weren’t riding the single’s train. When he was away in Seoul chasing after his dreams.
Now that he’s got downtime and your relationship has hit a brick wall? His mere presence sears you to the bone. Drags you in like a black hole.
And that?
So not good.
Swallowing roughly, you tear your attention away. You’d forgotten how intense and blindly bright he can be.
There’s a throb developing in your temple, sharp little darts of pain lancing through your skull. An impending headache if you don’t get some air that doesn’t taste like wood-smoke and cheap alcohol.
“I think I’m gonna head in for a bit. Need to get away.”
You shake your head and toss your bottle into the bin on the way inside, Kae-In shouting her acknowledgement with a thumbs up. Makes you promise to contact her in case of any change in plans.
Nearly everyone’s outside so it should be less crowded, more quiet. Most importantly, away from Yoongi and that penetrating stare which makes you more flustered than you care to admit.
Alas, the kitchen isn’t empty not for long.
You’re lounging against the counter, elbows bent, head rolled back and stinging eyes closed when the back door creaks open. Biting off a groan, you swivel your head to the side.
When you see it’s Yoongi who follows you in, you almost slip and brain yourself on the tile. Mouth dry, palms sweaty, heart beating out of control; scrambling into a more flattering posture while patting down your hair.
He chuckles, his nose scrunched and smile coy.
Seeing him happy always makes you tender, weak.
It seems that hasn’t changed a bit.
No amount of pictures or videos do it justice. Granted, Yoongi looks good any time, any day. But seeing his whole face light up like that in person? Utterly priceless.
It’s a struggle to breathe properly around the lump forming in your throat.
Of course, it has to be him.
Wiping your palms off on your thighs, you greet him with an awkward wave, “Uhhh, hey - hey there, Yoongi.”
Oh my god. Abort mission, I repeat, abort mission.
“Y’know what,” you say, “I was just about to head back outside…”
As you pass by, he catches your arm.
Long fingers curl around your wrist, callouses dragging across your pulse. Your gut clenches, an unexpected bloom of warmth shooting through your core at the sight of his broad palm holding you captive.
His grip is firm but loose enough that you could pull away.
All it serves to do is remind you of nights spent beneath his body, the slide of sweat-slick skin, the taste of him heavy on your tongue, pussy filled to the brim with cock. His rough voice music to your ears, prideful as he gloats about how well you’re taking him.
"Leaving so soon?” He asks silkily.
A hard tug sends you slamming into the wall of his chest.
Air rushes from your lungs, your hands trapped against his collarbones. Firm muscles contract beneath your palms, his body shoving into your touch.
Twisting your fingers in the soft cotton of his shirt, you look at him from beneath your lashes. Your voice whisper soft when you say, “Yoongi…”
His dark eyes, the colour of a rich espresso, track the path of your tongue as you wet your lips. Fingers drag over the soft line of your neck, tracing your fluttering pulse.
Touch feather light as it stops by the corner of your mouth, pressing down on the swell of your lip.
“I haven’t said hello yet.”
Eyes wide, all you do is watch and wait with baited breath. Stunned into silence at his proximity. It’s been so long since you’ve been this close, the smell of his expensive cologne nostalgic.
Your body recognizes his, responding all the same. The connection between you electric, overwhelmingly so.
His head bows, bleached strands brushing your forehead. The tip of his nose rubs yours. You get lost in counting his eyelashes, tracing the bridge of his nose to the carved slope of his cheeks.
Surrounded by him, the urge to resist what’s happening is nearly non-existent. Though you wish it wasn’t so easy to be caught by him.
“One of the guys said something interesting,” he says, his breath ghosting across your face; mint and beer. “It's about you actually.”
He flashes the smile that sends your heart soaring, your stomach flipping.
The slightest peek of a metal chain resting in the crook of his neck, surrounded by a very tempting patch of skin you want to taste, has you a little dumbfounded, absentminded.
“Oh?”
You really hope you don’t sound as frazzled as you feel but the haughty superiority of his slow appraisal of your body, the cocksure smirk on his lips states otherwise.
You really wish you could knock him down a peg but confidence looks amazing on him.
Always has.
“They said you have a boyfriend now. Is that true?”
You manage the slightest shake of your head in the negative - no, not anymore - your heart thundering in your ears.
Your breath catches in anticipation just before Yoongi closes the remaining inches between you with a hum of approval.
His head tilts to the side as he slots your mouths together in a kiss that’s got your toes curling. A filthy wet slide of lips, his the slightest bit chapped, send you under, liquid warmth filling your belly.
You inhale sharply, a moan vibrating against his lips.
Melting into the cage of his arms as his hands clamp down on your hips possessively, tugging you closer. Pressed stem to stern like this there’s no hiding the evidence of his desire.
He’s already half-hard in his jeans, his erection pressing against the zipper.
His eyes are hooded when he pulls away.
“Wanna take this somewhere a little more private, baby?” Yoongi asks, running his nose up the length of your neck and inhaling.
How is this my life, you think, dazed.
His hips grind forward against you so there’s no mistaking what you’re dealing with. “It’ll be just like old times.”
After an awkward fumble and an elbow to the side, you settle on the downstairs bathroom. He follows, quickly pinning you to the door while struggling to toss his leather jacket over the sink.
With a flick of the lock, you’re finally alone without any possible interruption. The door muffles most of the ruckus outside, leaving you hyper aware of every hurried breath, every low-throated murmur.
For a long while it’s nothing but a mess of lips, his body molding to yours. Easy to fall back into the old rhythms of your relationship as though you never left it.
He holds you down.
His fingers in your hair, on your jaw. His tongue gliding over your lip, sucking it into his mouth and letting it slide back out through his teeth.
You meet him kiss for kiss, your hands finding their way into his back pockets, tugging, groping, loving how he bucks up into the cradle of your hips in response.
A sweet ache settles low and deep.
“Yoongi,” you sigh. “Fuck, I forgot how much you like to tease.”
His thumb circles your nipple through your shirt, teasing it into a sensitive, stiff peak that shows through the thin fabric.
The caresses send soft pulses straight to your clit, the intensity getting stronger and stronger the rougher he is.
Before long, you’re aware of how achingly empty you are.
Yoongi nips the corner of your jaw.
“Never forgot how fun teasing you is,” he murmurs into the silk of your skin. “How wet you get for me.”
“Shit, you can’t just say something like that.”
“Can’t I?” His laugh, genuine and vibrant, sounds through his chest and into yours. “You can bitch all you want, but I know you love it.”
A smile, all teeth.
“Isn’t that right, baby?”
You glare at him weakly through half lidded eyes.
Two can play that game.
“Fuck!” Yoongi bites out, those impossibly dark eyes sliding shut when you reach down to palm him through his jeans.
His breath whooshes from him in a loud exhale, his jaw working back and forth. “That’s cheating.”
You smirk, feeling him throb in your hand.
”What were you saying, Yoongs?” Humming, you rub your chest against his, using a fingertip to trace the outline of his shaft. “I didn’t quite catch that.”
Spearing you with a weighted look, Yoongi shoves you back into the door harder than before, the wood creaking under the pressure. Fist resting on the frame next to your head, his body cages you in.
Every shuddered inhale has the planes of his firm chest pressing into yours with the expansion of his lungs. His hips buck up into the softness of your palm with a grunt.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, pretty girl,” he cautions.
Competitiveness is a gift and a curse.
Not one to be outdone, you brush away any lingering reservations - which being honest, there weren’t many left. His relieved groan when you tug out his cock reverberates through you.
Shit, that’s so unfair.
Yoongi already sounds wrecked yet you’ve barely touched him. How the fuck are you going to get through this without completely combusting when he actually cums?
Thinking that maybe focusing on what you’re doing will help, you look down.
Big mistake.
Dark designer jeans circle his thighs, low enough for his cock to spring free.
Flushed, curved towards his belly, the head swollen and sticky with pre-cum. The shaft a decent handful that pulses when your palm skims the side.
Feminine appreciation at the sight has velvet heat pooling between your thighs, pussy clenching at the thought of him inside you.
Sex with him was always stupidly good.
All those veiled lyrics about his skill in the bedroom far too accurate for comfort.
Since you broke up, you haven’t been with anyone that comes close to his ability in getting you off.
He’s ruined you.
His face burrows into the crook of your neck with a low groan. His breath puffs across your skin, shivers racing down your spine.
Low voice full of grit, he says, “Shit, baby, that feels…”
Hot palms anchor themselves to your hips.
“Wait a sec,” he says, body twitching with aborted thrusts, strong fingers kneading. “Wanna do you too.”
Heart jumping, you let go of him long enough to yank your shirt over your head and kick off your pants before returning your hand to his cock.
In the meantime, he rucks his shirt up under his armpits. You can’t help but make a noise in the back of your throat as the length of his torso is exposed.
All that soft, smooth skin stretching over his stomach as he flexes. You have to fight down the urge to run your tongue along the outline of his hip.
Mouth slack, Yoongi pushes up the cups of your bra. Watches laser-focused on the bounce of your tits as they drop free, subtly swaying with every jerk of your wrist.
His hips fuck up into the circle of your hand while one of his own inches down to brush the crease of your thigh. Your hips tilt towards his touch, desperate for friction.
“Oh god.” He moans, calloused fingers dipping between your folds. “You’re so wet for me.”
You wiggle, whining against his lips as you meet in a messy kiss. His touch is light, gentle, barely there as he traces the length of your slit.
You’re trembling, skin too tight, body feverish. “Stop teasing, I want you inside me.”
Those seem to be the magic words because Yoongi gives a rumble of approval, using his thumb to spread slick over your swollen clit in tight circles.
Heat coils in your belly, electricity racing down your spine. Your thighs splay as wide as they can, making room for his hand.
His knuckles brush your skin.
Dipping down to your entrance, Yoongi works on spreading you open with shallow thrusts until you take three fingers comfortably.
Your needy sighs and soft moans bounce off the walls.
His low murmurs right in your ear as the pads stroke your walls, his wrist flexing. He’s hitting all the right spots, still remembering how to get you off years after the fact.
You’re quickly turning weak-kneed and wet eyed.
“Fuck, Yoongs, right there,” you keen, baring down on the digits nudging your g-spot, your grip tightening around his shaft.
You grind your palm over the swollen tip, gathering beads of pre-cum.
He hisses, thrusts off beat.
Fingers nudge up suddenly, pressing deep and holding in retaliation. White lightening crackles behind your eyelids, thighs twitching, mouth dropping open.
“Yeah, just like that, pretty girl.”
Your world narrows down to every filthy slide of his cock in your hand, every gush of slick as he stuffs fingers into you over and over again until you’re a writhing mess against the door.
Your nerve endings are alive with pleasure, the stimulation too much and not enough.
“Please, don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, doubling his efforts, wrist working faster.
Dapples of sweat litter his brow, his eyes staring into yours, glazed over and lusting.
Fuck, he’s handsome like this.
It’s a little embarrassing how bad he’s got you but between the blissed-out expression he’s wearing, the weight of him in your hand, and how full you are, you know this orgasm is going to be quick, messy.
The pace of his hips pick up, his breath hitching in his throat, length twitching and thickening in your grip.
He’s getting close, his touch rougher, more force behind the snapping thrusts of his hips, teeth nipping at the side of your neck.
“Come on, baby,” you say, breathless, twisting your hand on the upstroke. He smothers a grunt in your shoulder. “Give it to me.”
It doesn’t take much more to bring him to the edge.
A particular spread of his fingers has you jolting, a sudden, intense spike of pleasure shooting right to your clit.
In turn, you unintentionally massage his cock, knuckles bumping the underside of the swollen head.
He’s a goner.
Cumming with a low, wounded whine and a shuttered thrust, Yoongi smacks the door with his free hand. Thick spurts of jizz make an absolute mess of his stomach and your knuckles.
Sagging forward like a doll with cut strings, all his dead weight bears down on you.
He pants, small tremors wrack his frame. “Baby,” he murmurs, pressing a wet kiss to your jaw, “I missed you s’much.”
“Missed you too,” you reply, using nice, languid strokes to wring the last of his orgasm out of him. “More than I thought I did.”
In lieu of a response, Yoongi wiggles his fingers inside you, rebuilding the rhythm he lost. He flutters them, curls up against your walls, peppering kisses along the length of your jaw with a hum.
Slick drips down his wrist, the sloppy sound of him finger fucking your cunt blending with a surge of desperate moans.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Yoongi says against your chin. “So fucking hot, wanna see you cum.”
Your back arches, your fingers digging into the width of his shoulders, head smacking the door with a dull thud.
“Can you do that for me?”
Nodding frantically, you fall apart with a broken gasp. Clamping down so hard he can’t move, the cramps softened by the throbbing heat washing over you. Blood rushes in your ears as your pussy gushes around his fingers.
“Good girl,” he praises, tone heated. “You did so well for me.”
By the time your brain comes back online, you’ve forgotten all about Chang-ryul and the constant vibration of your phone where it’s shoved - forgotten - into your pocket.
The only thing that matters is Yoongi with his tender kisses and greedy hands.
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