#i used the wrong soap earlier and now my hands feel terrible ;x;

[teddiebearie]

I think someone needs to. explode me with a laser beam

[herherteartear]

blanket kick

précis— Peter's not the suave man he would hope to be in front of his crush. instead, he's a blushing mess that haunts his memories and causes him to take out his frustrations on his blanket. luckily, you prefer cherry cheeks over smooth lines any day.

pairing— Peter Parker x enhanced!maximoff!reader

a/n— this is my first standalone written story and my first time writing for marvel! i hope you guys enjoy thisss<3 i'm also open to creating drabbles to continue this if anyone's interested????! pls enjoy and pls comment and let me know ur thoughts!!!

there are many ways to describe Peter Parker, but none could ever wholly capture the true essence of the boy

besides the obvious stuff,, his intelligence , his insanely good looks , his teenage awkwardness,,

it was a hard feat to string along words to describe the way he carries himself , the way he is with others , the way his heart loves with the same ability a sponge soaks up water and soap

Peter's had crushes before

perhaps more than he'd like to admit

(can't blame the boy, who gave Ty Lee the right be that cute!?)

but when he sees her, his heart begins to swell and suddenly, he forgets how to breathe..

or how to think... talk. y'know normal human stuff

in all honesty, Peter has tried his absolute hardest to block out their first meeting from his memories

he doesn't regret meeting her, of course not! never would he even repent that embarrassingly wonderful day

he only wishes it would've gone a little differently

let's set the scene, shall we?

the sun was shining brightly, the sky was a Carolina blue, the clouds were the prettiest porcelain color, rimmed with lace

Peter was riding in an awfully silent car that Happy was driving to the airport. despite being terrified of what's to come,, the fight Mr. Stark had recruited him for,, the boy was thoroughly enjoying this adventure.

the car came to a stop, which did little for Peter's nerves. he gathered his courage before stepping out, eyes squinting at the brightness of the yellow sun. once his eyes adjusted, they landed on the prettiest head of hair he had ever seen

(although he did think the same for Hermione Granger)

Peter had never been on a plane before that day. but even then, his sparkling eyes stayed trained on her,, completely ignoring the brilliant private jet behind her

"oh? Happy, i thought it was just us?" her voice made Peter's ears burn. he swallowed thickly. you blinked at Peter, curious but also intrigued , you smiled.

to which Peter choked. on air. your eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"a-are you okay?"

"god, kid, get ahold of yourself."

"i-i'm okay! it's– i'm– i'm fine!" Peter quickly stuttered out.

"well, Yn, this is– uh,, what's your name again?" Happy turned towards the boy who's cheeks were now redder than a firetruck.

"oh! i'm Peter– Peter Parker. it's nice to meet you- not that i don't know you. well i don't, y'know not personally. but like from the news.. not that i believe the news! they're awful to you, but i mean i guess i do sometimes– but never about what they say about you–"

"i'm Yn Maximoff. it's nice to meet you too, Peter." you cut him off before Happy strangled the cute boy. you had an amused smile

he was cute

finally getting on the plane, Peter had hoped he would be able to sit far away from you and wallow in his embarrassment,

maybe sneak a glance or two.. imagine a couple of scenarios where he wasn't a doofus,

but that's not quite what happened.

after witnessing just how much the new kids was able to ramble,, Happy was not about to spend a whole ass plane ride remotely close to him

so he took it upon himself to make the kiddies sit together.. much to Peter's dismay.

like!!? did Happy not see how Peter crashed and burned in font of you?!

you, on the other hand,, had the opposite reaction.

being the youngest avenger, you don't get to be around people your age too much,, which isn't something you're complaining about!!

you totally made the decision to be an avenger and you happily welcomed the consequences..

that didn't mean you didn't get lonely at times. especially now with the accords and the team breaking up., things got a whole lot more lonely

your sister, Wanda, had made her choice to leave the compound. you completely understood why, but a part of you had hoped she would've taken you with her

although, staying at the compound did ensure your safety.

it was a weird time for the avenger's , it felt wrong for you to say some of your teammates were criminals

it left a sour taste in your mouth

you glanced from the window seat to see Peter nervously wringing his fingers. you frowned.

"are you okay?" you asked, gently. Peter's eyes widened and his heart jumped to his throat. he wanted to say something, something cool or aloof, something that would make up for his ranting earlier

"i've never been on a plane before." Peter squeaked out. he dropped his shoulders, rolling his eyes at himself. that was the highest pitch he had ever heard his voice. you took in his clearly anxious posture.

"lets switch seats? maybe looking out the window will help you." you stated. before Peter could quickly shake his head, because how rude would it be of him to take your seat?, you were already stood up.

"oh god!" Peter breathed. he quickly shifted over to the seat you once occupied. he wanted to put up more of a fight, but the way you were swaying due to the turbulence, made his palms sweat in fear for your safety.

"you, like, swing from buildings and stuff, right?" you asked. he turned to you with a nod. "are you afraid of heights? or do you just not like planes?"

oh god. oh. no. you thought– you thought he was scared of being on the plane. Peter wanted to shrink in a hole and hide. you probably thought he was such a baby! that he could handle swinging from hundreds of feet in the air, but a plane is where he drew the line?

but what else is he supposed to say? 'oh, no! it's not the plane I'm scared of. it's just your beautiful smile and the way you smell like cocoa that gets me sweating'

wtf.

that was so wrong in so many ways.

"um, no, no. i'm okay, just– just a little nervous, is all." Peter tried to force out a chuckle. but it come out more like a cough. you mouth formed an 'o.'

"ohh, okay." you paused before your eyes lit up. "how about we play a game? to distract you?"

"o– okay.."

"can you talk with spiders?" Peter lifted his eyes from looking at his hands hovering above yours,; he let out a much more relaxed laugh than earlier.

you took advantage of his distraction to swiftly bring your palm from underneath his and slap the top of Peter's hand. he jumped.

"ouch!" he playfully pouted. you eyes glanced down at his lips. you giggled nervously. your hand went to hover over his, him now being the one to do the slapping. "of course i can't talk to spiders! i– i feel like i should probably be able to shape-shift into a spider in order for that to happen, y'know?"

you nodded thoughtfully. "that's true.. you didn't hear this from me, but i heard there's an Ant-Man going around." Peter looked at you with wide eyes.

"no way! that's crazy! does he like turn into an ant?" you bumped his hand with yours in order to get his attention back to the game. his hand burned at the feeling

"i don't know-" you said in a singsong tone. "it's just what's being said around the compound." you quickly slid your hands to avoid Peter's attack. he huffed.

"how are you so good at this?" he knitted his eyebrows to focus on how to attack quickly without hurting you.

"it's a game i used to play with my brother and sister." you answered. Peter finally took his chance to slap your hands, to which you squealed excitedly as you had tried to move in time. Peter and you fell into a fit of giggles.

you both leaned against your seats, still facing each other. your hands fell on top of Peter's.

the brown haired boy quickly slid his hand out from under yours, not because he didn't enjoy the contact, but because he was worried you'd feel how clammy his hands were

you frowned slightly at the loss of contact.

"a– are we really fighting your sister?" Peter wondered out loud, without a second thought.

you shifted uncomfortably. Peter quickly noticed; his heart sped up and he mentally scolded himself for being so inconsiderate.

"not because i think she's evil! i mean,, i know that's what the news says.. but they also think Spider-Man's like thirty. and i'm not thirty! its just everything's crazy right now.. with the accords., i can't even imagine how you're feeling! probably terrible.. oh, g od wait, not terrible, i'm s–"

you had been watching with an endearing look in your eye. you had come to find that you enjoy watching Peter ramble.

his eyes would become unsettled and shaky, his body would begin to become more and more animated, but his voice

gosh, his voice was something you wanted to listen to for the rest of your life

but you could tell he was getting more and more skittish. so you put him out of his misery

"terrible probably wouldn't be my go-to word, it's up there though.. at least i got to meet you." you smiled softly.

Peter's eyes ran over your soft features. night had fallen, so the windows of the plan displayed an almost picturesque display of the moon and stars. the light hue of color the moon provided painted your face in a way that clouded Peter's thoughts.

with your comment of being grateful to have met him, Peter wasn't in control of his mouth for much longer.

"so pretty." he breathed. both of you guys froze.

Peter's face quickly morphed from love-sick to mortified. you blushed violently.

deciding you didn't want Peter to fall into another rant-like apology (because if you got to listen to him talk for that long in this setting, you might just drop the 'L' word) , you said,

"let's watch a movie?"

the two of you sat, shoulder to shoulder, watching Scott Pilgrim Vs. the World, but being too hyper aware of their thighs pressed together and brushing hands to actually pay attention

upon arrival, both teenagers walked off the plane, sleep deprived , but with thumping hearts and dazed grins.

Peter threw himself on his hotel bed that night,, hiding under the covers

his thoughts replayed your interaction over and over (and over and over) in his head

the boy shoved his head, face first, into the stiff hotel pillow and let out a muffled groan

Peter flipped himself over, stared at the ceiling, before remembering his spouts of unnecessarily long explanations

he thrashed his body, kicking his poor blanket in frustration but most of all, out of embarrassment

he calmed himself down once his memories refreshed themselves over your gentle giggles and how soft your hands were

Peter fell asleep with cherry red cheeks and a blissful grin.

because despite those small mess ups, despite the futile way he beat his covers in humiliation, Peter treasures that day like no other.

[smediumsmeatbae]

Tremble (One Shot)

TITLE: Tremble PAIRING: Chris Evans x Reader  SUMMARY: Chris' anxiety throws him for a loop but you know how to make him feel better WORDS:  2.3 K SONG USED: Oh Baby by LCD Soundsystem WARNINGS: Mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, light angst (if you squint), SMUT SMUT SMUT (no one under 18, please!) A/N: This is my first for a couple of things. This is my first smut fic, constructive (read CONSTRUCTIVE) criticism is welcome. (Praise is awesome too lol.) And secondly, this is the first fic I've used with a song running through it. I really enjoyed writing this and loved using the song through it. It might be something I do again in the future.  This is also a submission for @jtargaryen18 's 30 Days of Chris. Thanks to her for hosting such a wonderful writing challenge and it's been super fun this whole month.  This is not to be posted anywhere else without my permission. Reblogs/likes/comments loved and encouraged.  Sort of been proofread. Any grammar mistakes are my own.

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There was a hush in the air that night as you sipped your glass of bourbon out on the back porch of your Boston home you shared with your husband Chris. He was due home in a few hours and you couldn't wait to see him, so you were trying to distract yourself with your favorite spirit and a book that Scarlett had lent to you. You tried to focus on it, you really did. However, as you re-read the same sentence about five times, that was proving to be a fruitless venture. You let out a small huff of restlessness and placed the book down on the patio table before taking a quick sip of your drink and opened up your phone. Maybe catching up on some work emails could distract you enough. Before you could open up the email app, though, you noticed that you had a message. It was from Chris! You smiled and tapped on the icon to open up the message. 

CHRIS: Just touched down, got an earlier flight. Can’t wait to see you. Tour’s been rough. Should be there in about 20-30 mins. 

Your belly was full of butterflies as you read the message. He was going to be home! His arm around you! In twenty minutes! You tapped on the reply button. 

YOU: Yay! I missed you so much babe. Can't wait to see you too! ❤

It had been so long since Chris had been home. You missed the way he sang 80's pop music when he made pesto eggs in the morning, how the bathroom smelled vaguely of his cologne and soap - one of your favorite smells - after a shower, and how he would tickle you into submission after you had any argument with him. You also missed the way he caged his sculpted arms around your head and stroked your hair gently away from your face as he made love to you. God, how you missed sex with Chris; you craved it. Facetime was great, sure, and it helped temper the desire but it could only do so much. It couldn't give you the heat of his body melting into you or how he held you close, almost protectively, as you came down from your orgasm. You couldn't wait to feel him again and would probably jump him as soon as he got home. 

As if Chris could sense that you were thinking about him, you heard the door unlocking and the sound of keys being tossed on the entryway table as well as suitcases and backpack being set down in the foyer, making a noise on the hardwood floor. You excitedly went towards the noise to see your tired husband standing in the foyer.  

"Baby!" You yelled as you ran towards Chris. You threw your arms around his neck and drew him close to you as you nuzzled your cheek to his shoulder, smelling his cologne and feeling the soft fabric of his shirt on your cheek. He grabbed you back in turn and buried his face into your neck and clung onto you, taking fistfuls of your shirt into his hands. You noticed after a second, that his body was tense. He was also slightly trembling against your body and he was hanging onto you like you were his salvation. 

"Chris?" You asked gently, pulling away your face in concern. "Baby, what's wrong?" 

Oh baby You’re having a bad dream Here in my arms

You cupped his face in your hands. He easily was a head taller than you but in that moment, he seemed so small, like a scared little boy that needed to be protected and loved. His eyes were cloudy and glazed over- he looked like he hadn't slept at all last night. 

You came to me Could all be a bad thing And do you harm

"I'm… I'm ok, just really tired." He gave you a small smile but it wasn't working; you could see something was really bothering him. You knew your husband too well; that, and he was a terrible liar. He started to let you go and go back towards the foyer to grab his stuff and unpack from the press junket. 

"Babe, please. Talk to me. What's really going on?" You folded your arms around your waist and spoke to him, not judging, just wanting to understand and help. 

He slumped down and let out a sigh, stuffing his hands in his pocket. 

"I just… need to decompress for a second. Can we not talk about it for now, please?" His eyes were pleading with you and your heart broke a bit. You wanted to reach out and hold him but instead you nodded and dropped your hands from your waist as if to say you were giving in to his request. 

You run from me Shot in the dark Please wake me For my love lies patiently Please baby please

You had a feeling you knew what was going on. Chris had issues with anxiety and he said earlier the tour was rough, didn't he? How bad had it gotten? He was usually really good about keeping his anxiety in check with some form of meditation and relaxation. What happened? You followed Chris into the living room where he turned on the tv, wanting to get out of his head a bit. Sitting down next to him, you wrapped your legs under you and nestled yourself into his side, letting his arm drape over you. You felt his chest rising and falling, missing so very much this feeling of closeness that you had not had since he left one month ago. One long month. He absentmindedly kissed the top of your head and stroked your shoulder lazily with his thumb. It was like the anxious person that came in from the tour was gone and Chris, your Chris, was back. At least on the surface. You knew that he was trying his best to bury it for the time being until he was able to talk about it. 

You came to me Are you having a bad time? There in your home

"The junket was… A lot." He finally spoke after a long time. "There wasn't really any time for breaks, and they just kept pushing us with more and more and more interviews and meet ups and Q&As and pictures…" You could feel his body tense up the more he talked about it. "It didn't stop. And I did my best to push it down, I made a commitment to be there and I was going to see it through, but man that last day… yesterday. I just couldn't do it anymore. I had a panic attack in between one interview waiting on another and I had to get out of there." There was a hitch in his voice that wasn't there before and you moved from your position to  straddle him and hold him close. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pushed your hands through his nape and massaged it, an act that instantly calmed him down. He let out a breath, seemingly one that he had been holding in for eternity, and wrapped his arms around you, nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck. 

Oh sugar Give in to me You're just having a bad dream

"Shhh, it's ok baby. I've got you." You cooed as you held him close. "Let it all out, I'm here love." 

He gripped onto you and you could feel your tshirt and neck becoming wet with tears as he quietly sobbed into your shoulder. Your big man; your confident, funny, passionate, smart, loving man was shaking in your arms. You cradled his head and rocked him from side to side, wrapping your legs around his torso to feel him closer, closer, closer to you. 

Oh but please Please shake me from my lovesick patient dream Please baby please And my love plays wait and see

He lifted his head up to you, lashes wet with tears and eyes still misty, kissed you softly. His hands unclenched from your shirt and they ran up your back, searching, needing, wanting to hold you. His eyes met yours, wordlessly asking and you nodded, needing to make this better, if only for a short while. You cupped your hands to his face, rubbing his cheeks with the pad of your thumbs and kissed him gently at first, then with more urgency. You opened your mouth and let your tongue explore his bottom lip before he opened his mouth for you to gain access. Tongues danced with each other for a bit, you moaning into his mouth. 

Chris was pulling at your over-sized shirt, and you obliged, lifting your arms up and letting him remove it. It was actually his old shirt, but you wore it, especially when he was out of town, because it smelled like him. With your shirt off, you reached for his as he unclasped your bra. You were so hungry for skin on skin contact, to feel his sculpted upper body next to yours. Soon, you were both bare chest to bare chest, your hands massaging the nape of Chris' neck while you licked and nipped at his collarbone, the fingers of your free hand playing in his chest hair. His hands were on your ass, grinding you up against him. You could feel the prominent bulge beginning to form in his pants and you melted from the sensation, matching his grinds with your own. 

“I missed you so.. Much.” He groaned into your ear as he squeezed your cheeks and buried his face into your breasts, kissing and sucking; marking you as his. 

“Oh, I missed you too baby.” You gasped out as your hands scratched his shoulders and down his back making him hiss. You felt your wetness soak your panties. “I’m here, Chris. I’m all yours, my love.”

You wanted to let him take the lead, take what he wanted from you. There would be time tomorrow for talking and kissing and exploring each other anew all day, but tonight you wanted to make his entire trip melt into a distant memory. You guided your hands down his magnificent pecs and abs to his belt buckle. He adjusted himself so that you could zip his pants down and get his hardness into your hands. You both moaned out when you cupped him into your hands. 

“Need you.” You heard him rasp out, nipping your jaw. You looked into his eyes and they were dark and lust blown. You nodded with a whimper, needing him just as much too, needed the familiar stretch that you had been longing for since he had left a month ago. 

With one arm, he lifted you up with ease, helping you off of the couch while you both got rid of the bottom half of your clothing. Chris eased himself back onto the couch and you had to restrain yourself from just jumping onto him as you straddle back over his waist. You took his head in your hands and crashed into his mouth with passionate kisses, with teeth and tongues and biting lips, fighting out for dominance on who was giving the better kiss. His thick arms were back around your waist and butt. You put your hands on his chest to steady yourself as you lifted yourself up and positioned yourself over his manhood. He helped guide you and in one swift move, you felt him inside, stretching you deliciously. You both moaned out, chests heaving at the sensation.

“Oh fuck baby.” Chris groaned as he bit down on your shoulder. “Feel so good… so tight for me.”

You started to move your hips, and Chris put his big hands on either side of your waist, guiding you up and down on his cock. Putting your hands on the back of the couch to steady yourself, you matched him thrust for thrust. Your forehead pressed against his lightly for a second as you kissed him again. He adjusted himself a little bit more on the couch so that he could hit you deeper and you shouted out as he hit your g-spot over and over.

“Oh god, Chris yes! Right there!” panting heavily you sped up your rocking. You were so close to ecstasy, and you could feel from the twitch in his cock as you moaned out his name that he was close too. He matched pace with you and slammed into you with all he had. 

“C’mon baby, cum for me.” His voice was low and intense. He took one hand off of your hip to dip down between your thighs and rub tight circles onto your clit with his thumb. That was all it took and you cried out, your whole body shaking and pulsing as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close to you. Feeling your walls grip around him was enough to push Chris over the edge as well and he let go, moaning out your name as his strong hands went up your back and pulled you down to him. 

Oh baby Lean into me There's always a side door Into the dark Into the dark, shh

Once both of your breathing had returned to normal you parted from his embrace and scooted off of him, feeling him slide out of you. You got up from the couch and walked into the bathroom for a wet washcloth to wipe up with. Finishing with that, you nestled down next to his side, running your hands across his naked torso, blissfully loving how his breathing was way more peaceful at that moment then when he came home. He pulled you close to him and dipped down to kiss your lips tenderly.

“Welcome home, Chris.” You sighed and ran your hands through his chest hair.

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TAGS:  @angrythingstarlight  

[67impalaandwhisky]

Destiny Is Heaven Sent

Summary: Knowing Dean Winchester since you were fifteen, you’ve always been pulled in his direction. Always wanting to open up the rattled and broken cage your heart lives in. But when the child you’ve been raising together dies, you find yourself closing up the cage of your heart again. And if destiny has one thing for you, it’s to break you down before bringing you back up.

Characters: Dean x You, Sam, Castiel, Bobby, OFC’s, OMC’s, (Ongoing)

This Series Is Set Through Seasons 1-6 With Knowledge That The Bunker Exists

Rating: 18+

Warnings (Ongoing and Will Be Updated): Grieving, Mentions of Rape and Defilement (As Per A Case), Show Level Violence, Swearing, Smut, Impreg Kink, Blood, Fighting, Drinking, Dean Being Dean, Fluff, Angst, Dom!Dean, Sub!Reader

Warnings For This Chapter: Sexual Thoughts, Sexual Tension (!), A Break In The Case 

Chapter 3.

The slam on the door jolts you awake first thing in the morning.

With a whine, you hold your head before looking at Dean who's curled around you like a snake as he continues to sleep.

"Hey!" Sam yells through the door.

You hear the small tinkering in the lock before the door comes opening up with him crouched down right before it. He gives a nervous chuckle as you raise an eyebrow at him.

"Lock picking so early in the morning, Samuel?"

"We got a new body. Prostitute just like our first victim." He says before looking down at Dean as he buries his face into your bare side.

"Me and Dean will go. Let me just get him up." You say before giving his younger brother a weak smile.

Sam shakes his head, a smile widening over his face as he closes the door shut.

You look down to your left as you blink, trying to clear your mind of all the alcohol sluggishness you feel. He looks so peaceful when he's sleeping. No hardened eyes or worry lines on his forehead.

His lips are gently parted, the famous Dean stubble gracing his sleeping face. 

You want to open up the cage that surrounds your heart and that's exactly why you can't. 

You shouldn't want to do anything. And, maybe that's the harsh negativity in your brain but you can't see any other way around it. 

Letting him in would mean you would be vulnerable. Would he be the one to protect you? He would be the one to comfort you? 

He shouldn't have to.

Fuck that destiny stuff. Fuck that soulmate stuff.

But, you're frightened that there will be a time when you need him over anything else.

And it's slowly coming to that time. The time to just let out your demons and accept that you're not safe and sound if it isn't with Dean. 

"Dean?" You whisper softly as you nudge him.

He groans at the call of his name, nudging his hips closer to yours and you can feel his morning erection digging into your thigh as he sniffles gently.

You've felt it before, you've felt his hips snap and jolt against you looking for the heat of your body to get him off in his sleep throughout the years.

You can feel the fresh wave of arousal washing over you like waves. Your vision tunnels as you look down at his briefs.

He must have taken his pants off after you fell asleep.

His thighs are toned and taut as they flex beneath the thin black fabric of his underwear.

Subconsciously, you lick your lips as the outline of his cock protrudes through the fabric. 

You've always heard praise and moans through thin motel walls from the women he's fucked. Always moaning about how big his cock is and how it fills them so full. You always thought it was a show until now. He was packing something serious in those denim jeans of his.

You haven't been fucked in a long time. Too long if you're being honest. 

You can only imagine how his perfect pink lips would feel as they drift down your body. His calloused hands rough and urgent against your warm, soft skin. How his stubble would tickle you and make your skin only that much more sensitive for him.

Your hand cards through his hair and you lose yourself for a second as you watch him.

"Like what you see?" You hear him murmur, his voice laden with sleep.

Your eyes widen, your heart begins to pick up speed at the embarrassment of getting caught. 

Your hands react first, shoving him hard and fast away from you. He rolls off the bed and groans loudly as his body collides with the floor.

"Jesus Christ!" He whines as he sits up.

His eyes snap open, evergreen irises finding yours before he's rubbing the bleariness away with his fists.

"Let me give you a little lesson-," he cringes standing up before walking over to the counter and grabbing water, "if you see a hard cock, you touch it. You don't fling the person into the void." He grumbles before sipping the water.

You narrow your eyes at him, pulling the sheets over your half naked body, "Eat a dick, hot shot." You counter and he just simply smiles at the motel room floor before walking towards the bathroom.

"Relax, Candy girl. I like waking up next to you. Starts my day off right." There was no flirtatious tone to his voice, no wink. Nothing that would signify him trying to get into your pants. It brings a blush to your cheeks and neck. 

You find yourself grimacing as he shuts the door.

Wearily, you get up and grab your clothes before staring at the bathroom door.

Maybe if you crack the cage of your heart open only a little bit, it might suffice. Maybe if you just let him in a little then it would take away your pain.

"We have a new body." You call to him through the bathroom door.

He swings the door wide open as he steps out and you shield your body with your clothes as he leans against the door jamb.

"Let's get ready to gank this bitch then." 

You roll your eyes before shooing him away but you don't miss as his eyes drift over your almost bare legs that your clothes can't seem to cover.

His eyes flicker with mischief before retreating back into the bathroom with a sly smirk on his face.

God, if there was one thing that Dean knew it was that he was way more into you then you were into him.

Opening the passenger door to the Impala, he waits for you to step out of the hotel room. 

It's very rare to see you in a pencil skirt but the times that you do have it on, it's an experience for Dean. 

Your legs look so soft, your toned thighs are hidden and teasing underneath the constraining fabric, nevermind how pert and perky the globes of your ass look. 

He can't help the laugh he gives as you pull down the skirt uncomfortably, trying to make it go past your knees.

Everything you do is so endearing to him.

It's almost incredible to him that you've been the person you are since he met you and growing up he tried to get into people that were so absolutely different from you.

You were sexy and confident, not overly sexual and not flirtatious at all. You were focused and did your job to the best of your ability.

He admired everything about you in your entirety so when we looked for women, he looked for everything opposite of you. No one could ever be you nor would he want them to be.

"I feel so fucking restricted, this is horrible." You complain as you climb into the car.

"You look good." He comments simply.

You watch him walk around the car, his fingers tapping rhythmically against Baby's hood. He fixes his tie and you can feel your palms become sweaty at the sight of him in the rented suit.

You decided that you would start to open your cage, just a bit. Healing starts with you, it wouldn't just get better on its own.

Dean climbs into the car before turning to you. Without a second thought, you fix his tie even better than he could have done minutes earlier.

His breath stutters as you wipe off the shoulders of his suit jacket. Eyes widening a fraction as he looks down at you.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He murmurs as he starts the engine.

"Nothing." You reply as his hand purchases behind your chair.

What is it about Dean Winchester reversing a car that's so hot? The way he angles his body towards yours, you can smell all of his scents plus the citrusy bar of soap the motel provides.

He hums to himself as he begins to back up the car. You begin to count the freckles on his face before his eyes snap to yours.

"You are really weird today." He mumbles before pushing your hair off of your shoulder and squeezing it lightly.

"Marsh wouldn't want us to fight. He loved us being together." You say certainly as you look out the window.

Dean stops the car before turning to look at you fully. His eyes were roaming over your face. Your voice seemed peaceful. Were you letting him in again? Were you making the time to open your heart up for him once more?

"Yeah...he did love us being together." He replies as he tilts his head.

You give a small smile towards the window, watching him stare at you through the glass.

"Marsh would be mad at us if he saw how we've been acting." You say as you lower the window.

The man beside you stares ahead as he clears his throat.

You were opening up. He can feel his mood lifting into something on the sweet side of happiness. 

Maybe dreary clouds and terrible fights were on their way out. Maybe, you could start to be his life partner once more.

He smirks to himself as he stops at the light. 

"I'm glad you see it that way. I agree." He whispers before turning up the music.

On the way to the morgue, the car ride is filled with singing and laughs. Something that's been so distant in both of your lives for quite some time.

"Can you not touch that?" Dean asks as you throw your legs up onto the dashboard.

"What's got your panties in a twist, De? I want to listen to Kansas." You whine holding up the cassette. 

His evergreen irises flicker to you as he drives down the highway. You give him a wide smile, showing him your pearly whites and he smirks before grabbing the cassette.

"Fine just don't tell Sam I'm letting you pick the music." He mumbles before blasting the music as he lowers all your windows.

"WOO!" You cheer, the Indiana breeze blowing through your hair as you start to play the air guitar.

You can hear his hearty chuckle beside you as he speeds up the car. 

"You're the only girl I know that is me in the female form!" Dean yells above the music as he turns the car along the highways curves.

"Maybe that's why we make such a great team!" You call back as the melody of voices carries through the air.

"We're the perfect team, Candy girl! All I need is you, me, Sammy and a six pack of El Sol!" He yells as the engine revs loudly.

Sitting in the motel room by his lonesome, Sam taps his cell phone against his temple as he scrolls through his laptop.

What kind of pissed off spirit has the mojo to do this? There's not a single haunting as far as the eye can s-

"Hello Sam." He jumps in his chair before turning to the voice of Cas as he stands before the small kitchenette of the room.

"Hi Cas. Jesus." He mumbles before carding his fingers through his long hair.

Castiel stands quietly as Sam shuts his laptop.

"Uhhh Cas? Did you come for a reason?" The taller man asks as he grabs his cup of coffee.

"Yes." The angel replies and Sam nods slowly before raising his eyebrows.

"Okay. So. Why're you here?" He asks aloud as Cas sits down at the small table.

"We have to make Dean and Y/N fall in love with each other." Sam groans loudly at his words before sipping his coffee.

"Cas, I told you. I've tried but Dean just doesn't want to hear it. He's been hearing it since he was sixteen from our dad." The taller man notifies as he rests his elbow on the table.

"We should tell Y/N." Sam narrows his eyes at the angel before laughing.

"Yeah? Do you think she would take it better than Dean?" 

Cas ponders on the thought for a second before humming uneasily, "No. In fact, I think she might try to hit me for suggesting it and break her own hand in the process." 

Sam gives him a thumbs up before rolling his eyes. 

"They already love each other. They just have to get over the whole initial terror of being actual people with one another." He mumbles as Cas stares at him.

"Yes. But they need to do the act of love for destiny. God sent everyone a direct message, and they are just not heeding it." Sam leans forward at his admission.

"God wants Y/N and Dean together?" Sam asks loudly.

"Oh yes. It's been aware to all angels for quite some time. Right after you went into the cage." 

"Well why didn't you say that before? That's kind of a big deal, Cas!" Narrowing his eyes at the vessel of Lucifer, he stands back up.

"It isn't as big of a deal as it should be, apparently. They aren't even taking this seriously." He deadpans, his voice getting dangerously low.

Sam scoffs before looking down at his phone.

"I don't know what to say. They just have to figure it out on their own." He mumbles.

"Useless." Cas says before vanishing from sight.

Sam lets out a groan before opening up his laptop once more.

"You're useless." He whispers under his breath before continuing his research.

Pulling at your skirt, you shove the doors open exiting the morgue with your best friend by your side.

"They both were pulled from the same corner, both were aspiring models that wanted to just make some extra cash to live." Dean says as he takes off his tie.

You frown before giving up at the uncomfortable fabric and groaning loudly. 

"Would you stop? You look like your diggin' up your ass to find gold." He whispers as people walk by you into the building.

"Yeah well, this skirt fucking sucks! I feel trapped in a cocoon!" You bark back as you walk towards Baby.

"Your butt looks good though." He compliments calmly as he walks around the car.

"Shut up!" You admonish as he opens the door for you.

"Look! I can't even move my legs!" You complain as you try to stretch your legs, the fabric only giving way about four inches before you find your legs trying to close from the tightness of the fabric.

Rolling his eyes he unbuttons the top button of his dress shirt.

"Yeah, alright. I hear you. Let's go back and change. God, you whiner." He says, leaving your door open as he rounds the car to open his own.

Throwing your body into the car, you unzip the back of your skirt before sighing happily.

Dean looks over before his eyes widen and he grips the steering wheel tightly.

He can see the revealing skin beneath the open zipper, the gentle parting of your asscheeks below the tight fabric.

"Are you kidding me?" He complains as he turns on the engine.

"I don't feel as suffocated, leave me alone." You mutter out as you unbutton a few buttons on your blouse.

You were used to tight tank tops, loose jeans and combat boots. 

His eyes falter to the soft looking skin in his peripheral again, his tongue tracing over his bottom lip before clearing his throat.

"Just wear suit pants next time. Jesus." He says as he pulls out of the parking lot.

"Let's go change and get a beer. I'm thirsty." You tell him as you lower your window.

His head turns to watch you while he stops at a stoplight as you angle yourself out the window. The globes of your ass press tightly together as you fix yourself comfortably in the seat.

Running his large hand over his face, his bottom lip tucks between his teeth. 

You don't even know how sexy you are. You don't even care. That's what gets him so hot and bothered when he's alone.

"Light's green." You comment as you look at the autumnal leaves on the trees. 

God, what if he could just wrap his big hand around your waist and tug you into his lap. Pull you over the middle console of Baby and grip those sexy cheeks between his fingers.

So fucking pert and per-

"The light's green, idiot." You tell him as a car honks behind him. 

Sticking up his middle finger, he abandons his wildly horny thoughts to drive down the road.

"So are we getting beers?" You ask as you sit properly in the passenger's seat.

"Oh yeah. I need a drink." He murmurs, turning up the music loud.

"Yeah well we need to be quick about this. Another victim seems to be coming up." You say as you sit down in the booth of the dive bar with your two best friends by your side.

Throwing your legs over Dean's lap, you watch as his hands immediately grip them tugging you closer to his body on instinct as he sips his beer.

"There's not a single haunting in this town of Missouri." Sam whispers as the waitress comes over.

"Hey guys! Can I get you another round?" She asks, her eyes immediately wavering to the older brother as she pushes some hair behind her ear.

It doesn't quite bother you as much as you would think. Dean's been getting pussy since you both met. 

"What do you want?" He asks you, his thumb drifting over the leather of your thigh high combat boots as he ignores the waitress.

"Whisky and coke." You say as you look through the documents Sam has printed from a nearby Staples.

Dean leans closer to you and you freeze, your eyes flitting to Sam. You can feel your heart begin to beat faster, can feel your breath stuttering in your throat.

"You have an eyelash." He mumbles as he picks the lash off of your cheek.

Pulling back he holds the eyelash on his index finger in front of your face before turning to the waitress.

"I'll have what she's having. Sammy?" 

"Same." He murmurs suppressing his smile as you narrow your eyes at the younger brothers.

The waitress smiles, "Three whisky and cokes coming up. You want your drink extra strong, handsome?" 

Dean clears his throat as he pushes his empty beer bottle farther away from himself.

"Whatever you're giving my girl is good enough for me." He says calmly.

You wish that things would just fall into place, for the pain to go away and for your heart to be soothed and open once more.

You blow the eyelash off of his finger before leaning back in the booth. 

"She's your girlfriend?" The waitress asks, pointing at you with her pen.

You don't dignify a response as you stare at the pages of information on the victims. You're used to Dean turning the flirting into his nightly pleasure within a few minutes. 

"My wife, actually." Dean says before he finishes off your beer and grabs some papers on the case you're working.

Sam smiles widely before finishing his beer and you roll your eyes, suppressing the smirk your face just naturally wants to give. 

Her smile falters as she grabs the empty beer bottles before nodding.

"Lucky girl." She says and you snort before looking up at her.

"You don't know the half of it." You deadpan, earning a loud laugh from the younger best friend on your right.

Dean doesn't even watch her walk away, he plays with the laces of your boots as you continue to rifle through the papers.

"She was pretty." You comment as you turn your attention to him.

He looks up from your boots just to shrug, "Not in the mood." 

His brother lets off a low whistle as he leans his shoulder against yours, "Dean Winchester isn't in the mood? Has the world ended?" 

You giggle at his joke while his older brother grimaces. 

"Shut up." He mutters.

"Here you go. Three whisky and cokes." The waitress says as she begins to take them off the tray.

"Thank you swee-" He stops himself short before looking at Sam, who gives him a teasing smile as you put down the two photos of the victims on the table.

"Oh my Gosh. Those are the victims, aren't they?" The waitress whispers quietly as she leans against the booth.

"You know them?" Sam asks as he pushes his hair back.

"Of course. We haven't had murders or prostitutes for a long time around here." You sit up straighter, pulling your legs from Dean's lap.

"A long time? Online it says you never had any." You ask, tilting your head.

Dean sips his drink, staring at you instead of the waitress.

It's cute when you become interested in information, the way your shoulders straighten and your neck sticks out just a tad.

"Well yeah. The mayor probably doesn't want people to know that his grandmother was actually a prostitute. Or so they say." You hum intrigued as you pick up your drink.

She notices how keen you are and continues to speak, angling her body towards you.

"Apparently back in the early nineteen hundreds, there were prostitutes on that very corner. The mayor's grandmother being one of them. There was a guy named Morley Rosmund that had sex with one of the women from the corner behind his wife's back and she got pregnant. When he told her to get rid of it, she ended up killing him. She had sex with him first and then put his body through a woodchipper. Only up to his pelvis though and then she left him. Since then, all prostitutes have been disappearing on that corner for years." You nod at the story, your eyes flickering to Dean as he shakes his head with a wry chuckle.

"And no one talks about this?" Sam asks as she stands back up.

"You just need to talk to people that do know the tale, I guess." She says with a shrug before nodding to a group of people that call her from the other side of the bar.

"Well I'll be damned." Dean lifting his glass.

"Cheers." You say before clinking glasses with the both of them.

"Guess I'm putting on a dress tomorrow." You mutter as you write down the dead man's name.

"Can't wait to see how uncomfortable you get with that." Dean jeers with a laugh as he picks your legs back up and puts them on his lap.

Raising an eyebrow, you watch as he strokes the leather of your boots.

"It's comforting." He mumbles before finishing his drink with one large gulp.

Yeah, it is comforting.

Forever Dean Tags: @akshi8278​

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Some Like it Saucy (TFV)

Summary:  Cooped up in the compound while the team conference with Secretary ‘Toss-pot’ Ross, you decide to cook and decorate.  What better way to fill the team’s hearts and bellies than a Marrakech-themed evening with Bucky’s favourite food - Moroccan tagine.

Words:  1.6k

A/N:  Written for @buckybarnesbeans​​ leap year challenge filling the dialog prompt:  “Which one of you Bollocks thinks my chicken is dry?  You? You?”  (In bold).  It’s a Bucky x Reader originally written as an adult reader, but this is the teen-friendly version. Thank you @sassy-pelican​​ for giving the original a read to check for mess-ups

Warnings:  Bad language and British slang. Fluff.  Light on reader insecurities towards the end.

The living areas of the compound were quiet and hollow; the whole team was gone and you were left alone.  It felt eerie.  Like the rest of the world had vanished and you were the sole inhabitant of a world once teeming with life.  You shivered at the thought of such endless solitude.

There were remnants of their existence, of course.  The alluring yet comforting smell of Bucky’s soap in your bathroom this morning, a half-drank mug of coffee on the common room table, a messily folded newspaper with a half-completed crossword puzzle, and an open packet of Tony’s favourite trail mix hidden in the magazine rack.  It wasn’t like they had been snapped out of existence or anything, they were all at a conference with Secretary Ross.

Dickhead, you thought.

Ever since that mission in London where you picked up some amusing English insults that you later took pleasure in using on Secretary Ross, your absence at debriefings and conferences involving him had been, let’s say, strongly advised.  Needless to say, Secretary Ross didn’t appreciate you calling him a wanker and telling him that he talked a load of bollocks.

It had been a fun mission though.  The team had been brought in to help MI5 foil a plot to steal the crown jewels and reunite the nine pieces of the famous Cullinan diamond, which occult conspiracy theorists say was a stone of great power.  Cullinan I, in particular, was an exquisite stone. Housed in the majestic sceptre with the cross, it had piqued your interest purely for its unusual refractive index; there was something about that stone, you could feel it with your powers as you pushed your influence through the security case to interact with the stone.

Goosebumps broke out across your skin and you shook yourself free of the memory.  The eeriness of the compound seemed to have increased since invoking the feeling of the power of the stone but you cast it aside as best you could, latching on to the annoyance you felt that Secretary Ross was robbing you of a lazy morning with Bucky.  Tosser!

Boredom made your bones itch.  You needed to do something other than going back to your room to vegetate until everyone came back, so you decided to cook dinner.  Moroccan chicken tagine. It was one of Bucky’s favourite meals, and since everyone was suffering the presence of Secretary Tosser, you figured they deserved a reward.

Delicious smells of savoury meat, fragrant spices and sweet apricots filled the kitchen as the team emerged from the elevator.  You were finishing up by adding a handful of chopped coriander leaves to the tagine, humming a tune while you worked, when strong arms snaked around your waist and a beardy kiss pressed against your temple.  You’d know the feel and smell of Bucky anywhere.

“Hey, baby!”  You smiled.  “How is Secretary Tosser?”

“You didn’t miss anything good.”  He chuckled in your ear, kissing your neck softly.  You adored that you were both still very much in love after years of being together. “He finally fired that P.A. who wrote that you called him a wanker into the meeting transcript that time.”

“No!”  You gasped.  That woman was a legend in her own right.  “That’s fucking terrible -oooo! I hate that man!”

“Relax, Rainbow Brite,” Tony appeared beside you, “I hired her this afternoon so she’ll take notes for all of our meetings with Ross when he’s here.”  He beamed, lifting the lid of your tagine and groaning with pleasure as the steam rose. “That smells amazing.” 

“Thanks boss.”  You grinned, feeling the fuzzy warmth of his praise and the dark satisfaction that Ross wouldn’t be able to bully that poor P.A. anymore.

“You made this?  Should I be worried?”  Tony feigned horror. “Barnes is still alive so your cooking can’t be all that bad-oof!”  He grunted as you flapped the back of your hand into his gut, hard. 

“Stark!”  You growled in warning.

“Okayyy, good talk.”  He bolted with a cheeky grimace.

Bucky held you tight to his chest so you couldn’t give chase and assault Tony with your wooden spoon.  “Easy, tiger.” He soothed, knowing just how to calm your fiery temper.

The team came together for dinner and you all sat on floor cushions around a low table to eat.  You had enlisted the help of Vision to create your Marrakech themed night and you had both outdone yourselves.  Cannibalising one of the conference rooms had been a stroke of genius and, in your opinion, it was a far better use for the room than boring meetings.  The dim glow of the ornate iron lanterns and the holographic fire courtesy of FRIDAY, the makeshift marquee made from brightly coloured fabrics, the smell from the food you’d made, and the soft but authentic music made you feel like you’d stepped through a portal into a souk lounge in the heart of Morocco.

“Next time, let’s not invite the others.”  Bucky murmured in your ear after you had all settled and began to eat.  “It’ll be just you and me,” he whispered, “with a movie, great food, comfy cushions, and cuddles.”

“Sounds like the recipe for a perfect night.”  You sighed, body relaxing at the thought of unwinding with him and a movie, but what movie?  You loved a high-octane action adventure film, or an epic Sci-Fi, but you also loved a good rom-com too.  As your brain filtered through all the films you had on your Netflix list, you zoned out, running on auto-pilot.

“Pardon me, Y/n?”  The words feel foreign; soft but still plenty sharp to snap you back to reality.

You’d eaten with the team, smiled at them when they’d thanked you for making a wonderful dinner, and had been clearing away dishes in a complete daze.  Across the kitchen, Bucky smirked at you from where he was piling plates into the dishwasher. That little shit knew exactly what he’d done.

“Miss y/n?”  Vision looked concerned as he laid a hand gently on your shoulder.  “Is everything alright?”

“I’m good.”  You mentally shook yourself, making a mental note to torment Bucky later, maybe make him watch that terrible mermaid show you found.  “I’m aaaalll good.”

Vision nodded curtly, pausing a moment before he addressed the reason he’d approached you in the first place.

“I’ve taken the liberty of suggesting an amendment for your tagine recipe, to increase the sauce to meat ratio while leaving the delicate balance of flavours intact.”

“Why?  What’s wrong with my recipe?” 

“Nothing is wrong.”  He smiled warmly. “A comment was made that more sauce would have been welcome.”

“More sauce, huh?”  You slid your tray of crockery onto the nearest counter and picked up a tray of baked spiced orange pastries and mint sugared pineapple pieces.  “I’ll take it under advisement.”

When you delivered dessert and settled on your cushion next to Bucky, he squeezed your thigh reassuringly as the chatter quietened while the team tucked into the delicious moist pastries.  He was about to tell you he was proud of you for not allowing your irritation to flare but he didn’t get the chance. He knew you were insecure, underneath the foul mouth and the bravado was a girl who needed reassurance that she was more than just good enough.

“So…”  You cocked your head as the eyes of the whole team fell on you.  “Which one of you bollocks thinks my chicken is dry?”  You pointed your spoon around the table starting at Sam.  “You?” He was always the first to talk shit, even if it was just a joke.  “You?” Natasha fell under your gaze.

“No one said it was dry, sweetie.”  She smiled kindly, seeing your outburst for what it was – you really needed to know you’d done a good job.  You’d felt useless being stuck at the compound while the rest of the team had meet and greets with officials.  No matter how boring they really were, you felt left out. You’d had Vision for company but he didn’t share your feelings. “I just said I’d kill for more of that awesome sauce and Vision, being the pragmatic type, figured he’d save lives and help you update the recipe.”

You huffed a little but relaxed as Bucky laid his arm across your shoulder.  “You know she likes things a bit saucy, babe.” He winked at you.

“Don’t give me that… you big winker!”  You chuckled and elbowed him in the ribs playfully.  “Earlier you said something about movies and cuddles, and I expect you to deliver.”

Bucky was up on his feet immediately, pulling you up and slinging you over his shoulder while you squealed in protest.  “If you’ll excuse us,” he addressed the room, “we have a recipe to discuss.”

“Sounds like a recipe for disaster.”  Sam scoffed around a mouthful of pineapple.

“Don’t tempt fate.”  Nat scolded.

Bucky snagged a couple of colourful cushions and whacked you with them as he carried you giggling from conference room Marrakech.  He was a man of his word and you could expect nothing but relaxation and adoration.  And, as the door of your room closed firmly, you found that you didn’t much mind spending the day apart because he was there now, and always would be.

[boymeetsweevil]

For Science 5/7

Grouping: Reader x Nerd!JK 

Word Count: 17.5k haha wtf (NSFW)

Warnings/Themes: omg okay swearing, Boobies, graphic-ish Cunnilingus, endangement of Hoseok’s chin, Spit :/, Masturbation, mentions of porn haha, Making out, (Hoseok’s) male gaze??? Idiot!Kook, Jealous!Kook, Violence? (lmao it was very mild violence and mention of blood but not graphic), gratuitous use of soap-opera level drama

Summary: Jungkook asks you to let him watch you get off. For science.

A/N: I’m tagging  @m-icdrop , @jiminslye , @ephemeral-mindset, @sugarandpoppy, @monstar95, @sweetestkth, @limitlesxxsxx, @simplyfinessin, @park-geemin to let you know that this is here! If any of you would like to stop being tagged with each FS update, let me know. And if anyone would like to be added to the tag list, also let me know :)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 6, part 7

Being a good friend, as you’re realizing now, is so terribly hard and you wish someone had told you earlier in life so you could make the informed choice of becoming a nun. Or maybe just a plain old hermit.

Either way, waking up in the middle of Yoori’s bedroom finds you feeling less rested than you would have liked. Probably because you dreamt that you had been transfigured into a dog by Hoseok wearing a witch’s costume and forced to be the family pet to Yoori and Jungkook’s 16 children. You end up waking with a jolt, still in Yoori’s bed and covered in cold sweat, wanting nothing more than to go home and leave everything at school behind. 

Still, you soldier through the rest of the night, staring at your laptop instead of doing work, only eating half of the pizza she ordered for you and numbly carrying a large Tupperware container that held the leftovers back to your apartment.

You end up eating the pizza for breakfast the following morning in some meagre effort to comfort yourself. Nothing helps, though. Not using the special body wash that you usually reserved for special occasions. Not putting on the velvet joggers you wore when you needed a pick-me-up. So, you try going in the opposite direction. Instead of putting in extra effort, you put in zero. You don’t bother stressing about putting your hair into an intricate style so you’ll look more put together. You don’t bother trying to buff your skin to a shining, baby glow. Instead you slather your face in moisturizer and throw your hair into a bun, which seems to do the trick. Giving up on some of the tinier details that would often gnaw at the edges of your collectedness improves your mood slightly. So does taking the rest of the pizza in with you for lunch.

The universe takes pity on you and the day goes by quickly. On Friday, It feels almost as though you only blinked but now the sun was setting around 4:30, as had become habit.

You wipe the drool that was pooling at the corner of your mouth while you tried some old number theory problem sets from a class you took freshman year. It had been difficult because you’d forgotten how shitty proofs can be, but it had also been just the time sink you needed.

Coming to the usual study spot you and Yoori established a few hours prior was bittersweet. Normally she would be there, perhaps with a steaming mug of something calming waiting for you, ready to work in companionable silence with gossip breaks sprinkled in between. Today, she wasn’t there, so you had the whole table to yourself. You sit in her chair to throw some novelty into the mix. And because you miss her. But now that your momentum is broken, you decide to turn to the window instead of people watching. Even though there’s none of the softly falling snow Yoori always raves about, the view is still nice.

The last few rays of the winter sun are stretching out, leaving the campus bathed in blood orange light and catching the reflective parts of the packed snow on the ground. There’s something picturesque about the way the campus pond, now frozen, sits in the center of the landscape and frames the sheet of mountains running in the distance. But it feels very lonely as well.  

You check your phone and find no text messages from Jungkook and only one from Yoori asking if you have plans for Saturday night. You tell her no and begin packing up.

Normally, you’re not a big going out person, but you find your lack of plans for this weekend a little bothersome. You know Jungkook and Yoori will obviously be busy that evening, and perhaps even the whole weekend. But that leaves you with Taehyung and Hoseok to have a good time and the prospects for that seem weak. You try sending a text to the two of them asking if a bar sounded like a fun idea but Hoseok messages back that he already bought drinks for tonight. You suppose you’ll have to try again next weekend.

Taehyung’s words of assurance about how Jungkook suddenly getting a girlfriend wouldn’t change the group dynamic float into you’re head. But you’re not so sure you believe them in this moment. Things don’t seem as fun and you’re not sure if it’s just because you’ve spent the whole day moping or if it’s because Jungkook has been carrying the group dynamic on his back the whole time and you never even noticed until now.

It’s a frightening thought and it’s also a little unfair to Hoseok and Taehyung. Although you’re not as close to them as you are to Jungkook, it’s not like they’re strangers. You’ve spent a great deal of time on your own with both of them, and even though you fight with Hoseok from time to time, you have made some nice memories with the both of them.

As you walk to Taehyung’s apartment for game night, you’re reminded of the times you’ve spent with the both of them. Like when you needed to fulfill your PE requirement for the year, so you and Hoseok took a snowboarding class together. You can admit, albeit reluctantly, that you bonded over many nights of numb toes and icing each other’s injuries. There’s also the time that you and Taehyung thought learning Russian would be a fun idea. You ended up leaving the Russian club after the first weekly meeting, but Taehyung still goes and is now the club Treasurer. It had been a fun hour of your life, though.

“Hey,” Taehyung chirps when you finally arrive at his apartment.

“Hey!” You fling yourself at him, full of emotion from the walk down memory lane you just took. He’s stiff in your arms for a moment, but settles into the hug after a beat.

“What’s this all about?” He chuckles, patting your back affectionately.

You extricate yourself from him and drop your things at the doorway before turning to Hoseok with a determined look. He snorts at you but doesn’t try to hide from your grabby hands, much to your surprise.

“I just wanted to let you guys know that I’m really glad we’re all friends. You mean a lot to me,” you mumble into the collar of Hoseok’s shirt as you press wrap him in a sincere hug.

“Are you not wearing a bra?”

“Except you,” you push him off you roughly. “Not you. I don’t like you.”

“Aw, come on!” He grins wryly at you from the floor. “You know you like me.”

You make a show of brushing the residue of your hug off the thin and oversized sweater you’re wearing. “No, sorry. I was a different person 20 seconds ago. I’ve changed. I’m better now.”

Hoseok hops up and chases you around Taehyung’s tiny dining room table until he manages to trap you in a corner by the kitchen entrance and wrangle you into a bear hug. You play dead to deter him, but instead he just laughs at the limp way your feet drag on the floor and waddles with you still in his grasp to the living room. Taehyung looks for the right game to play.

He chooses Wii Resort, which is not even remotely close to being your favorite, so you sit out and let the third controller lay unused on the ground. Instead you find yourself seated with your back against Hoseok’s chest in the La-Z boy, feet stretched out to rest in Taehyung’s lap as he sits on the matching ottoman.

“It’s fucking freezing in here,” you whine.

“I told you to wear layers. I’m trying to lower my utility bill,” is all Taehyung says as he moves his mii into yet another jungle setting for a mini game.

You pout. “This sucks.”

“It really doesn’t,” Hoseok interjects, “This is one of the better game nights we’ve had in a while.”

“You’re just saying that because this is the only time you’ve been able to win at a game.”

“Be nice to Hobi.” One of Taehyung’s hands drop down to dig into the arch of your foot as a warning. You squeal, knee kicking out wildly and without your permission, forcing your head to crack back against Hoseok’s chin.

“Ow! Fuck! What the hell is wrong with you, Tae?” Hoseok reaches up to clutch at his face, controller falling into your lap.

“Dude, I was defending you! How is this my fault?”

“You know it’s against the rules to tickle her when another person’s nearby unless it’s a tag-team.” He whines and taps you on the shoulder. You turn to face him sheepishly, knowing it’s partially your fault too. “Am I bleeding?”

“Thankfully, no,” you coo after a careful inspection. “But if that were any higher up on my leg, I don’t think you’d still have a face.”

“I know.” 

You pat his hair soothingly, but turn back around soon after Hoseok stops cradling his face. “Maybe we should call it a night.”

“We can’t! I’m not even buzzed yet. And we haven’t gone all the way around the board.”

“Tae, this game is trash. I don’t want to just sit and watch.”

He waves a hand dismissively, unpausing the game without even looking at you. “It’s not my fault you’re a fake Nintendo fan.”

“Ooh, are you gonna take that,” Hoseok’s eyes widen at Taehyung’s comment.

“I’m not even gonna dignify that with a response,” you sniff. Reaching out, you grab at the closest, non-empty beer bottle you can reach and take a swig. “But I am gonna get going so you can enjoy your shitty game by yourselves.”

“Come on!” Hoseok whines again from above you and from your vantage point it looks like his face is starting to swell. You silently hope that it doesn’t get bad until after you leave. “You can’t leave. Then it’ll just be two guys playing Wii resort.”

“Arriving in 13 minutes.” You burrow further into his chest to steal some warmth for a minute. You vow that the first thing you’re doing once you get home is taking a hot shower.

“Let her go, Hob. She’s not cool like us.”

Taehyung’s Mii reaches the top of the mountain at that moment. The victory cry he releases is entirely too loud and definitely not appropriate for someone only playing Wii Resort. He gets up from his chair and starts gyrating at the TV where Hoseok’s mii is crying large blue tears.

“Congrats on your victory. I’m out.”

The ride home turns out to be less relieving and more depressing as you get closer and closer to your apartment. Jungkook and Yoori are probably somewhere having an amazing date and will probably then go have amazing virginal sex in the backseat of Hoseok’s frat brothers’ car that Jungkook borrowed for the occasion. Taehyung and Hoseok actually like Wii Resort and will probably spend the rest of the night getting drunk off their asses playing that and having more fun than is objectively reasonable. Meanwhile you will probably stand naked and shivering in your bathroom for, like, 8 whole minutes waiting for hot water to make it through your plumbing.

Nothing like depressing thoughts to start your weekend off well.

Perhaps the universe decided to take pity on you once again because when you get home and disrobe, you only have to wait 6 minutes for the hot water. And it doesn’t run out after another 5. You also let yourself sing loudly to your Spotify ballad playlist titled ‘lady heartbreak’. Normally, you only cry to that playlist, so you think of it as personal growth.

Once you’re out the shower and your voice is hoarse from the ‘singing’, you change into light pajamas. Despite the fact that your heater is fixed, you still keep it firing at almost full blast because you prefer the heat to the cold.

Before you can flip back the covers on your bed when you hear a loud knock on your door. You figure its either Taehyung or Hoseok, or both of them, looking for something to do now that the game has lost its charm after a million rounds. But a quick glance at your phone shows no text messages from them saying that they’d be stopping by, which they usually do. The door thumps like someone’s body is slamming against it and you pray that its one of your stupid friends just being inconsiderate and disorderly.

You’re about to leave your room to see who’s at your door when another loud sound startles you. Its as if someone is carefully trying to rattle the window leading to your fire escape. All the while the loud knocking at your front door continues to ring through the apartment. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re certain you saw a news special about something like this. Pairs of burglars come to innocent women’s houses after they’ve stalked them long enough to learn their schedule and see if they live alone. Then they both show up to the house at different spots to distract the victim and break in more efficiently.

In this scenario, you’re certain they’re expecting you to go to the front door. But you’re smart, dammit. You decide to give them a surprise and approach the window first instead, phone clutched in your hand with the police a button-press away. You yank back the curtains and quickly activate your flashlight mode to see who is trying to break into your house. The pair of wide eyes that greet you back almost make your drop your phone.

“Jungkook,” you hiss incredulously.

Carefully, you unlock your window and slide it up so he can climb off the fire escape and collapse face first into your room. Clearly, he is slightly inebriated.

“What are you doing here?”

“Shh,” he sticks a finger into your face, “She’ll hear you.”

“Who’ll hear me?”

The apartment is eerily quiet when you realize that the loud knocking is replaced by jingling of keys and the sound of the front door being pushed open.

“Jeon Jungkook, who the hell is that in my house?”

“It’s Yoori,” he whispers with genuine fear in his eyes. “Crap!”

You can’t do much besides react on auto-pilot and pull back the many blankets and comforters lining your bed for him to dive under. The sound of Yoori’s slow, stumbling footsteps as they make their way into the heart of the apartment are better than any horror movie soundtrack. You find yourself diving into bed too, knees bent, hoping that you look casual and can hide Jungkook’s shape. He pokes his head out and grins at you from the shadows between your bare knees.

“Is anyone home,” Yoori calls from somewhere in the living room.

“I’m in my bedroom,” you respond. “It’s the last door on the right in the hallway.

A few moments later, Yoori is peering curiously from behind your door. You realize she still hasn’t seen your room despite the fact that she’s been to your apartment in passing a couple of times now.

“Hey, Yoori.”

“Hey. Wow,” she hiccups, “This is very you. I like the tapestries.” She turns in a circle to take in all of your room’s décor.

“Yep. So, uh, what brings you here?”

“I asked Jungkookie to drop me off here.”

“Oh, you did? Where is Jungkookie now,” you ask neutrally before casting a brief but discrete annoyed look down at Jungkook’s semi-visible face under the covers.

“I think he’s probably filling up the car’s tank. He has to return it to the fraternity before it gets too late.”

“He didn’t want to come in with you?”

“No. I told him I wanted to have some girl time with you to talk about the date. But then I got to your door and remembered that you don’t like to talk about romantic stuff like that.”

You shove your hands down into your lap and over his face so he can’t see the way yours heats up in embarrassment.

“W-well that’s just because he’s my good friend, you know. I didn’t mean much by that.”

“It’s okay, I understand.” She smiles down at you sleepily before walking over and moving like she’s going to sit with you in bed.

“Um, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you shoot your hands out to keep her sitting.

“Why not?”

She pouts softly down at you. You wince knowing that her feet probably hurt from a night in heels and all she wants to do is sit to rest. But your loyalty lies elsewhere at the moment.

“Because…I have no pants on.”

“Really?” She grins and peeks down like she hopes to see through the blanket covering your lap. “That’s okay with me. You probably don’t have anything I haven’t seen before. And if you did, who cares?”

You decide that you won’t probe her about that and instead redirect the conversation.

“Yeah, but I’m kind of shy when it comes to that stuff.”

“That’s right. I forgot.” Yoori sighs sadly. “Maybe one day we’ll get there. That should be our next friendship goal. Getting you to feel less shy around me.”

“Y-yeah, okay.”

You watch as she swings her heels tiredly in her hand and searches for a nearby cab. She finds one relatively quickly and gives you a one-armed hug around your shoulders before scooping heading out. You wait a few more minutes, just in case she magically returns for something she left behind despite the fact that she left the spare key on your bedside desk and the front door locks from the inside automatically. Once you’re certain you won’t be found out, you rip the sheets back angrily.

“Explain yourself quickly, Jeon.”

Jungkook squints up at you now that the dark cover of your blankets isn’t shielding his eyes anymore. He’s lying on his stomach between your bent legs, propped up on his elbows. It’s a compromising position that you’re glad Yoori didn’t catch you in.

“I told her I needed to fill the tank, but I told her I was doing it at the gas station on 5th street instead of the one across the street from here.” He grins up at your cheekily like he’s done something extra clever.

“Yeah, I figured as much. But why did you do that? And then why did you risk falling 20 feet to climb up the fire escape and come in through the window.”

“I wanted to hang out. I feel like we haven’t seen each other in a while.” His hand reaches out to stroke at the expanse of your bare thigh.

“Jungkook, you’re dating Yoori,” you sigh and move your leg away. “The weekend stays are over now.”

“We’re taking it slow, though.”

“Not slow enough for this to still be a thing.”

“It is slow enough.” At your raised eyebrows, he stammers. “We-we haven’t even held hands yet.”

“Really,” you can’t help but ask. The pang of satisfaction you feel knowing that Jungkook still hasn’t taken things further with Yoori makes you feel a bit guilty. But you can’t help it.

“Really. So we can still do this, right?”

“I don’t know, Kook.” Your lip ends up tucked between your teeth in indecisiveness.

“Please? I missed you,” he whispers quietly. It’s all you’ve ever wanted to hear from him and you give a quick nod lest you start shrieking from joy if you open your mouth.

He shuffles until he can pull you closer by the hips. When you’re on a slight incline, your multiple pillows holding you up, Jungkook removes his glasses. You watch silently as he places them next to the spare keys before leaning into your space, eyes dropping closed.

You let your jaw relax in anticipation of his mouth. But you’re surprised when the first thing you feel is the dry press of his lips to your cheek. It’s sweeter than you were expecting, but you’re not complaining. Eventually he makes his way over to your mouth and begins kissing you in earnest. Small pecks transform into languid caresses of his lips over yours. Your tongue comes out to swipe at the seam of his lips and he immediately opens up to let you in, groaning at the feeling of you in his mouth.

He lets a sharp breath leave his nose and surges forward, pressing himself to you as close as he can after having shuffled you even closer so he could lean over you. When you suck on his bottom lip, he lets out a low snarling sound. His hands come down to clamp onto your waist like a warm vice. Carefully, you entangle the fingers of one hand in his hair, while the other smooths down the curve of his broad shoulders. The feeling of the muscles in his back flexing under your hand is a feeling you didn’t realize you could take for granted. But somehow you have because its amazing to have it back.

The two of you make out for a while. Jungkook tastes of dessert wine and cheesecake. Its not necessarily a combination that you find unpleasant, but it reminds you that he just came back from a date. And while he left that date and came straight to you, you still don’t like it. You kiss him harder with the hopes that it’ll take away the remnants of his time out with another girl. A girl who is your friend. He whines and lets you ravage his mouth. Little do you know that each swipe of your tongue against his own has his growing harder in his slacks.

“Wait a minute,” he gasps against your mouth before slowing down a bit by planting small kisses on the hinge of your jaw and the soft skin of your throat.

“Too fast?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles bashfully.

You’re content to let him come back down from his fast-approaching high by sucking lightly on the skin near the collar of your white tshirt. There will probably be some light bruising that you’ll have to cover up if you’re still going out with Yoori tomorrow, but you don’t care about that right now. Instead you’d rather revel in the sensation of Jungkook’s traveling kisses. Though they started at the hollow of your throat, they’ve collected on your clavicle and he’s now trailing them over the fabric of your shirt by your sternum. It’s sweet.

And then its suddenly not so sweet as you feel his heated breaths puff over your nipple.

Obviously, you’re turned on and you’re not wearing a bra because you thought you were going straight to sleep. So its completely understandable why your nipples would be hard, then. What you’re not certain of is what Jungkook is planning. He’s no longer continuously pressing kisses into the shirt and is now sporadically planting them around the stiff peak that is raising your shirt material slightly, just breathing heavily over it. The heat you feel doesn’t do anything to calm you down and instead it has you squirming in his hold.

One of his hands comes up to rest some of his weight on your shoulder, effectively keeping you flat to the bed. A quick glance at him has your breath hitching loudly in your throat. He’s staring intently down at your breast, like he’s trying to make a tough choice. The moment is so thick that you don’t dare move. Not to encourage him nor to inquire what he plans. Instead you lay with bated breath, watching him slowly descend the last few inches. You squeeze your eyes shut milliseconds before his mouth envelopes your covered nipple.

“Oh shit,” you curse quietly.

Despite the thin cotton barrier, you can feel very clearly the hot, wet pressure of his tongue swirling around your nipple. All of the movements so far are experimental, hesitant in their rhythm. He hollows his cheeks softly and sucks and all of the sudden a long, drawn out moan leaves you. It gives him the confidence he needs to take his free hand and pinch at the other side, fingers mimicking the rhythm his mouth is setting over you.

Quickly, though, the shirt becomes unbearable and you get annoyed at the thought that such a stupid barrier exists between you and Jungkook’s mouth. You wriggle resolutely under him until he huffs in annoyance and pulls away to see why you’re interrupting him. When he sees that you’re merely hiking the shirt’s hem up to your armpits and exposing your breasts to him, he hums contentedly. He swoops back in, this time to the other side, and begins laving at the tightened bud. Your hands scrabble for purchase and eventually make their way back to his neck again.

“Jungkook,” you breathe raggedly into the crown of his head.

“Hmm?”

“What’s the—mmh fuck—the occasion for all this?”

He comes up with a slick popping sound, looking up at you with dark and hooded eyes. The sight sends a bolt of arousal to your core.

“Just been wanting to.” With that, he returns to making a mess of your chest.

Somehow, in the series of achingly long minutes that follow, you manage to get his button down and undershirt off. The sight of the smooth planes of his skin make your hands itch to feel him. You try to pull him up so you can have better access, but he won’t budge as he begins to kiss lower once both of your breasts have been thoroughly marked. You give up and try to predict what he’ll do next as he digs his fingers into your waist appreciatively and kisses a ring around your belly button.

He proceeds lower, his destination becoming increasingly obvious as he playfully flicks at the tiny ribbon decorating the front of your panties before halting. Tentatively, he pushes an index finger underneath the elastic lining where your thigh meets groin. You can feel what you suppose is the puff of his breath across the crotch of your panties.

“Can I—”

“No,” you blurt, legs snapping closed. Jungkook scoots back just at the right time to save his head from being crushed. “S-sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” He runs a hand through his hair nervously. “Do you just…not like it?”

“I’ve actually, uh, never…” you trail off until the words are lost in the mounds of pillows surrounding your head.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just that I’ve never really had anyone go down on me before.”

“Really?” His eyebrows shoot up behind his slightly damp bangs. “Not even with Yugyeom?”

You wince at the mention of your ex. Yugyeom had been your first and only boyfriend and you had a good run and even what most would call an amicable breakup. But one of the more bitter moments was the one time you’d attempted to get him to go down on you only for him to wrinkle his nose and tell you ‘he wasn’t into that sort of thing’.

“He just wasn’t interested.”

Jungkook nods understandingly for a minute before his gaze is drawn to the space at the apex of your clenched thighs again.

“Are you? Interested?” His tone is heavy with implication and the way he casually hovers over you while sitting back on his heels just makes you feel tiny.

“I-I mean, I guess I am,” you stutter.

“Okay.” He gets back onto his stomach, hands gently prying your knees apart until there’s enough room to accommodate his broad shoulders. “So can I?”

“Go for it.” Your words come out in a squeak.

“Thanks,” he smiles softly.

You can’t see anything because you’ve thrown an arm over your eyes self-consciously. Normally, these moments between the two of you have your stomach in knots for a different reason, but now you’re just plain nervous. You’re diligent about hygiene and you remind yourself that you just took a shower. But it had just been a normal shower and not a booty-call shower. What if he thought you smelled weird? Or that you tasted weird? For some reason, this felt more intimate than all the times before this where he was merely watching and you were the one doing the work down there.

Jungkook hooks his fingers into the waist band of your underwear, pulling it down with your help when you lift your butt. You bite your lip nervously and lift your arm slightly so you can watch his reaction.

He doesn’t have any sort of adverse reaction once you’re completely bare in front of him, though you suppose he’s familiar enough not to act surprised by anything. But you’re not expecting him to dive in suddenly until he’s less than an inch away from your sticky folds. You shouldn’t be embarrassed that you got turned on from making out, but it’s like everything has flipped and suddenly you know how he felt during those first few times together.

You can’t take the silence anymore. “What is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re so quiet.”

“I’m just trying to decide what to do first.”

“Oh. Sorry I can’t be of service.”

He smiles at how awkward you’re being before moving a tiny bit closer and taking a large inhale. Your eyes widen and you move to clamp your legs closed to shut him out, but he’s ready this time. One hand presses down on your pelvis while the other one presses on your hip, effectively pinning you to the bed.

“Calm down. It’s just me,” he whispers before inhaling deeply once. Twice. Three times more. All the while you can’t help but squirm. But he only increases the pressure of his hands with each antsy wiggle of your hips.

As soon as you decide to be still again, he releases your hip to spread you open with two fingers and presses a gentle kiss to your clit. You nearly jump off the bed at the foreign sensation.

“Jungkook, wait, I—” but you don’t manage to get the words out before he kisses you again.

This time his tongue flicks out to collect some of arousal that’s been steadily collecting despite your nerves. As soon as the flavor spreads on his tongue, he freezes. You wonder for a moment if he’s going to pull back and say he’s made a mistake. But then he surges forward again and begins licking broad stripes across you, catching your clit every so often.

He watches you carefully to gauge your reactions to what he’s doing. Taking in your heated face and dewy skin, he deduces he’s going in the right direction. And when he drags the flat of his tongue over your entrance as if to drink from you, your lip automatically gets stuck between your teeth and your eyes flutter shut. It’s a good series of reactions, but he wants more from you. He wants to get you to do that thing where your back curves up off the mattress or get your hands to scrabble at his arms to ground you while you shake under him.

“Oh god. Right there,” you gasp when he wraps his lips around your clit randomly and sucks.

Jungkook nods resolutely before re-wetting his lips and repeating the action. You moan loudly when his tongue brushes against you in the midst of the suction. Your hand finds its way to the back of his head and presses until the lower half of his face is almost entirely flush with you. You remove your hand almost immediately once you realize what you’re doing.

“Sorry,” you mumble, “I got carried away.”

He pulls back with a wide grin and shining cheeks. “It’s okay. It’s good to know its going well.”

Your hand falls back down to rest tentatively near his head. You watch the shining brown mop of his hair return to bobbing between your legs and feel another rush of arousal gush forth. Even if you couldn’t feel it, Jungkook’s following groan of pleasant surprise and the wet sounds that follow have your eyes rolling to the ceiling partly out of acute pleasure and partly out of disbelief. Why couldn’t your life always be this nice and worry-free?

Jungkook’s gently circling fingers around your entrance have you snapping back to the present. You wonder if tonight is going to continue being a night of firsts when you remember that Jungkook probably hasn’t done much ‘internal’ work.

“Would it be too much?” Even though he doesn’t specify, you know what he’s asking.

“Just go slow.”

You’re already quickly approaching an orgasm, but hopefully this will get you there quicker. You feel almost sluggish with the fiery heat that’s seemingly been spreading from your core to the rest of your body in time with each pulse of his tongue. But when he inserts the first finger, you feel impossibly warmer.

His jaw drops open as your warm heat envelopes his digit immediately in a wet, vice-like grip. He can only imagine what it would feel like if he could be inside you the way he wanted to be, but even that pale phantom grip in the back of his mind is enough to have him bucking into the mattress. He leans in to press lingering kisses to your lower lips while twisting his wrist in matching time. Soon you’re clutching at his shoulders, gripping his hair, kicking your feet anxiously as your high approaches. You can almost taste it and stars are collecting in the corners of your vision as Jungkook continues to lap at your center messily. As if he can read your mind, he withdraws only to enter again with two fingers this time. It’s just enough thickness to stretch you the way you want, but the angle is off.

“Jungkook.”

“Hmm?”

“Bend your fingers back and press up.”

“Like this,” he asks while making some motion, concentration creasing his brows.

You quickly reach down and re-orient his wrist. With great care, he reproduces the motions at the new angle and delights in the fact that you’re now quaking above him. Broken variations of his name tumble from your lips as the waves of your orgasm take over. Your legs kicks out as they characteristically do and so he positions them to hang more safely over his shoulders, despite the fact that your ankles tickle at his sides. He presses a chaste kiss against the skin of your inner thigh and hopes you don’t notice the way he nuzzles into the skin to wipe his face off a bit.

When you’re limp and your breathing has returned back to normal, he crawls over your legs to lay beside you.

“Was that good?”

You turn to face him and take in his sweaty face and pleased expression. You roll your eyes and shove at his chest, but he just grabs your hand and squeezes it before releasing it.

“It was good. But don’t get a big head, you still have to climb back out the window later.”

“Am I banned from the door?”

“I’m still mad you decided it would be a good idea to climb the fire escape when you’d clearly been drinking.”

“Not a lot, though. I was still able to drive.”

“That’s not something you should advertise,” you laugh.

He shifts a little awkwardly next to you and you realize he might not have gotten the same thing you did from eating you out. He notices where your gaze travels and grins shyly, shoving a spare throw pillow over the tent in his slacks.

“Ah, sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. I just wish I wasn’t so tired. Otherwise, I could—”

“Don’t feel like you have to. I was just gonna take care of it myself.”

“Oh. Like, right now?”

“Yeah? If that’s okay.”

“Okay.”

You sit back and watch as he slowly shirks off his dress pants and briefs in one go. His erection springs forward and from the almost angry red flush across the shaft, you figure he must have been pretty uncomfortable. He strokes it absent-mindedly and realizes that he doesn’t have any lube before turning to you.

“You wanna do the honors,” he asks with his palm out. It takes you a while to understand what he’s asking.

“Like, you want me to…?”

“Yeah.”

With all your remaining energy, you attempt to spit into his palm in an attractive manner. You’re not sure if you succeed, because as soon as you’re done he gets to business. The way he moves his hand over his length is rough and fast. Almost as if he’s trying to play catch up; not necessarily with you, but maybe with himself. With whatever thoughts had been plaguing him earlier while you came on his fingers and tongue. His breath leaves him in little punched gasps and the sounds are so pleasing that you lean forward and capture his lips with your own.

You wouldn’t quite call what you’re doing kissing. It’s more like a series of brushes of lips as his erratic hand movements cause him to move in and out of your space. Though he occasionally stops to steal a few kisses, they only seem to egg him on further until he can only touch his forehead to yours while he brings himself over the edge, spilling into his hand.

“Better?” You pull away to grab some wet wipes out of the side table drawer.

“Definitely,” he sighs. “I can put these sheets in the wash before I go, if you want.”

“Oh,” you blink up at him. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, I have to get some sleep. I promised Yoori I’d take her to breakfast at Dreamies.”

“Wow. You’re taking her to Dreamies? Are you sure you’re not more serious than you’ve been letting on?”

“It’s not like that,” he laughs stiffly as he tugs on his clothes. “We’re getting food to-go and then going to a butterfly garden.”

“Well, that sounds fun too.”

You can’t help but let out a sigh of relief. Dreamies is the diner you and the rest of the group frequent when you’ve all done too much drinking the night before and need good hangover food. It’s also open 24 hours, so sometimes it’s where you all go when you have nothing better to do or when you just want to have a wholesome time. A lot of good memories have been made in Dreamies, but its always been with the whole group. The idea of Jungkook bringing Yoori there for a private date doesn’t exactly sit well with you. Though it’s not like you can say anything because no one ever did establish that Dreamies was a group space exclusively. And even if someone had, who are you to make demands about where Jungkook and Yoori go out on dates?

Jungkook makes good on his promise and puts your sheets in the wash and even makes your bed while you wait for the washer to stop. He leaves when the dryer cycle finishes, pulling you in by the waist and kissing you deeply before strutting out the door with a flourish.

“I come bearing clothes,” you say as soon as Yoori opens the door.

She’d told you over the phone to bring some things to go out in after bugging you about firming up weekend plans. It still isn’t clear where you’re going, so you have brought a variety of outfits to cover the spectrum of possible events. You figured that you would get ready at her place as soon as you found out where you were going. But when she opens the door with makeup already done and her hair already curled, you’re a bit confused.

“Hello! How are you, my lovely?” She envelopes you tightly in a hug before taking the clothes out of your hands.

“I’m great. I got all excited on the way over because I thought we were gonna glam up together here, but it looks like you already did that.”

“I know,” she grimaces. “It’s just that Jungkook asked me if I wanted to go to the arcade out of the blue after we got brunch and I didn’t know what type of atmosphere that might be, so I just got as ready as possible. And then we went on a drive. We didn’t actually interact with any other humans. I could have worn my PJs.”

“That’s Jungkook for you,” you snort dryly. “So, uh, how was that drive?”

“You don’t have to ask me how our date went. I know it’s awkward to talk about dating your best friend. I’ll spare you.”

“Thank you.”

Yoori hands you a glass of your favorite wine, something she’s been keeping regularly stocked in her wine fridge since you became friends. You toe off your shoes before heading into the living room with her.

“Do you want tonight to be a surprise or do you want me to tell you where we’re going?” She reaches out to play with a loose string on the throw blanket adorning the couch, watching you with wide eyes as you drain your glass.

“Tell me. So I can pick out my outfit accordingly.”

“Okay. Just…promise me you won’t knock it before you try it.”

“I wouldn’t do that unless you said we were going somewhere ridiculous.” You tilt your head with a no nonsense stare. “And we wouldn’t do that, right? We’re not doing anything ridiculous?”

All she does is beam at you before pulling her phone out and scrolling through her photo album until she comes to the right image. She hands you the phone silently, lip bitten in anticipation.

“Hell no,” you say as soon as you see the flyer she’s taken a screenshot of. It’s advertising a Lady’s Night at a club with an open dance floor and drinks at a discounted rate. Immediately you hand the phone back and wish for more wine to magically appear in your glass.

“Please? I feel like it would be so fun, and it’s supposed to be a really great place. Pretty please?”

“Why can’t we just stay in and order Thai? I like your place, you don’t have to take me anywhere.”

“You make us sound like an old married couple. Besides, you never spend your weekends anywhere other than with those boys.” When you give her an unamused stare, she backpedals. “Charming as they are. Don’t get me wrong, I love them all. But don’t you think it would be fun to switch things up? Neither of us go out enough. We’re wasting our youth and beauty.”

“Excuse me. You’re dating my best friend, remember?”

“And by ‘we’, I meant not me.”

You roll your eyes and opt into searching for the wine bottle she used to pour your first drink. It catches your eye across the room where it sits at the long cherry dining table. You move to get up, but Yoori clamps down on your wrist with a pleading expression.

“Please?”

“I don’t want to spend the money.”

“I’ll pay for both our cover charges. Please?”

“The drinks will be shitty and I’ll need to be drunk to enjoy it.”

“We can drink here first and call a cab. Please?”

“I didn’t bring any makeup.”

“You left some over here from last time. Pleeease?”

“But the guys there will—“

“I’ll protect you,” you frown, unconvinced. “Please? I’ll even stay sober the whole night so nothing gets by me.”

“Fine. But only for an hour.”

“What? That’s too short, nothing good can happen in an hour. That’s too unrealistic. Two hours.”

“I’ll give you an hour and a half. After that, we’re coming back here and I’m sleeping over. Deal?”

She considers your conditions for a brief second before finally letting you get up. “You have to let me do your makeup and let me put pictures on my Instagram story.”

“Sure, but that will cost you another 15 minutes.”

Your back is turned to her as you fill up your glass, but you can practically see her writhing with indecision. Schooling your features into neutrality, you turn back to face her, and she straightens up.

“Deal.”

It takes much longer than it should have to get ready, but in the end, that’s a good thing because Yoori had originally wanted to show up to the event on time. Though you don’t get out much, even you know that arriving fashionably late means a better chance at getting there when everything is in full swing. Much better than getting there when there are 10 people in the whole club and no one is having any fun yet.

You let her apply your makeup, but you don’t let her pick your outfit much to Yoori’s chagrin. It doesn’t matter though because you’re no less miserable as she drags you into the bathroom to take a series of selfies.

That’s not to say that you hate selfies or that you never take them. You take them when you’re bored, when you’re texting the group chat, when you’re talking to your mom, when you’re home alone and feeling yourself. Next to Yoori, though, you can’t help but feel a little intimidated. Yoori doesn’t know your angles, Yoori doesn’t know your favorite filters and it’s not something you can just ask someone to change. Specific filters and angles are the bread and butter of anyone’s best selfies, and they’re not easily interchanged for someone else’s. As an engineering student, you can appreciate the complex science that is selfie-taking. And as much as you love Yoori, you don’t want to be the eyesore on her Instagram and cost her followers. Part of you hopes she gets drunk so you can take her phone and delete them later.

But she stays true to her word and doesn’t drink any more after leaving the apartment to go to the club. You stay true to your word as well and toss back another drink as soon as you get there, hoping that it will calm your nerves. In all honesty, you know there’s nothing to be nervous about, but you still order a second drink at the bar immediately after so you have something to do with your hands. You look good and you most likely won’t see any of the people at the club ever again, but you still feel out of place.

“You look terrified,” Yoori whispers in your ear. She’s been watching your expression carefully the whole time and has started to regret bugging you about coming.

“I am.”

“If you want, we can just go home now. I didn’t realize you hated going out this much.”

“It’s not that I hate going out,” you shout over the music. “It’s just that I can never let go off what other people might be thinking about me. And if I can’t do that, I can’t have fun.”

Yoori nods in sympathy. Although, she also doesn’t like the feeling of being scrutinized, she knows you’re coming from a different place. You’ve spoken candidly to her a few times about you feel like the two of you make an odd pairing. She remembers the way you spoke about her, all laudatory words, and then how you spoke about yourself. Yoori wants to compliment you the way you do her, but she knows that certain kind words only act as cold comfort for you.

“What can I do?”

You ponder the question for a bit. You figure, if you can manage to fake having the time of your life for 10 minutes, you can trick yourself into actually having fun for the rest of the night. With that thought, you finish your drink in a few large swallows before grabbing Yoori’s hand.

“Do you wanna dance with me?”

Yoori blinks down at you with wide eyes but nods somewhat shyly. You let her guide you into the throng of dancing bodies. As the song washes over you, you do a simple two-step while you decide what type of vibe to go for. Quickly the song grows on you, and you begin to put more energy into your dancing. At the sight of you enthusiastically swiveling your hips to the beat of the song with a smile on your face, Yoori beams.

The night unfolds like that. You manage to throw away your inhibitions in favor of dancing for hours. Yoori takes a couple videos of you when the right song comes on and puts you into a sexy musical trance. You take turns shooing random guys away who thinking they can casually fist pump their way into your sacred space. A few girls much drunker than you wander over to you and you welcome them with open arms and dance with them for a few songs, but they always float away after a while. Not without Yoori inquiring where their friends are and waiting until said friends come to collect them first, though. All in all, it’s more fun than almost all of your game nights combined. The thought makes you guilty for all of .3 seconds before you remember that none of the guys would ever go out dancing unless it was a means to an end of getting laid.

When the clock strikes 1:30—much later than you had originally promised to stay out—you collect your things and let Yoori guide you once more. This time she leads you outside to get a ride back to her place. She lays her pristine white leather jacket on your sweaty shoulders when she sees you shivering from the drastic temperature change that comes with leaving the balmy dance-floor.

“Tonight was so fun,” you drawl on the way over. Your head lolls onto her shoulder and she smooths the stray strands of hair off your forehead.

“It was. I was worried for a minute that you wouldn’t like it.”

“Mmm, me too. Yoori, this was great.”

“You never say my name.” She gets out of the car first before paying the driver and then goes back in to get you, slinging your arm over her slender shoulders.

“I know. Feels weird if I do.”

“I like it.”

“M’kay.”

As soon as the door opens, you race for the bathroom. One of the prices to pay for a good night out is dealing with a wine bladder and a hangover. The peeing, you could handle. The hangover, though, dwells in the back of your mind ominously as you brush your teeth and hastily remove your makeup. You’re pretty sure you haven’t taken all of it off when your face hits the cushion of the couch, but the couch is leather so you don’t care. Yoori, however, does care.

“Oh, no you don’t. Come here,” she grabs at you until she gets a hold and can walk you the remainder of the way to her room.

“I don’t wanna walk.”

“You don’t want to sleep on the couch either.”

“Where we goin’?”

“To bed, silly.”

You nod and let her escort you there. Immediately, you slide your skirt down and scramble to take off your crop top. As you fumble with your sleep shirt, Yoori respectfully turns away to change into her own pajamas, cheeks burning.

The covers feel pleasantly cool under your hands as you wait for her to finish changing. “Which side d’you want?”

“I usually sleep in the middle, actually. But I can sleep on whichever side you don’t pick tonight.”

“I sleep on this side.”

“Okay,” she nods agreeably.

“Tomorrow, do you wanna get Dream—oh wait. You went already. You probably don’t want it a second time. I’ll just go to Starbucks or something on my way back.”

“N-no! I’d love to go tomorrow. I was hoping to try their waffles at some point, anyway.”

“Okay, great. Goodnight, Yoori.”

“Goodnight,” she says quietly after the lights have been turned off.

Emotionally, the following week is fine, but it’s hard on your body. 

Your hangover takes over your whole Sunday, leaving you to slightly behind on work Monday. It creates a spiral of catching up on work that has you staying up further and further past your bedtime and unable to be as social as you’d like. Yoori lets you know via Snapchat that she misses you but that Jungkook has taken your spot at your usual study table. The two of them look adorable in the little puppy ear filter Yoori’s put over the short video. You watch with mixed feelings as Yoori blows a kiss and then remembers that Jungkook is there and ushers him into blowing a kiss as well. It’s not nearly as enthusiastic and stiffer than the one Yoori sent you but it still sends your heart into a fluttering tizzy.

Friday couldn’t come soon enough. But as soon as you wake up that morning, you feel jittery and off. All your warm clothes are in the hamper, none of them salvageable for one last wear. And all your motivation has been zapped after the week of constant working you just had. Classes prove to be no better despite the fact that they give you time to get out of your head. 

The rest of the day is syrupy, leaving you struggling through it even as you try to go with the flow of the sluggishly passing hours. Normally you aim for productivity, but as soon as your final lecture for the day ends, you find yourself unable to pass time with work. You take a walk through campus and even venture all the way over to the theatre department, on the other side of the common grounds. You try to sit on the frosted benches looking out over the man-made pond students often frequent, but your joggers aren’t prepared for the extreme cold and you realize maybe familiarity, instead of novelty, is what will make the time pass by quicker.

You decide to text Taehyung. His schedule is something that you’ve come to passively memorize after weeks of the information casually floating through past conversations.

You: Im bored

BigBoi: Where r u I’ll pick u up

You: @ Seemond’s pond…

BigBoi: ???

Taehyung arrives not ten minutes later, cheeks flushed with exertion from hustling over. He’s also not at all dressed for the weather, but doesn’t look bothered by it either in his university hoodie and thick knitted scarf. His beaten sneakers crunch loudly on the thin layer of white that’s collected since the last snowfall a few days ago.

“Oh my god, Tae, aren’t you freezing?”

Immediately you approach him and pull the hood laying limply along his shoulder blades over his colored hair. The roots have since started growing in and the color has faded enough to give him more of a coppery rose gold look. It’s a color so many Instagram influencers would have shit themselves over last summer trying to perfect at a professional salon, and here Taehyung stands with it after a bleach-happy accident in his dorm’s communal bathroom sink.

“Not really. I was actually nearby looking for a printer in BPD hall.”

“What for?”

“Financial aid forms,” he sighs. You grimace in sympathy before shirking your oversized black mittens.

“At least put these on if you’re not even going to pretend you checked the weather this morning.”

“What about you?” He gestures to the parts of your bare hands that he can see poking out from the sleeves of your own large puffy jacket.

“I’ll be fine. This has fleece-lined pockets. Meanwhile,” bending over, you peer into the front tummy pocket of his hoodie. “You only have a tootsie roll lining.” You dig your fist into the pocket and pull out the scraps of trash he’d been hiding in there with only mild disgust marring your features. “How do you live like that?”

“Dunno, just do. Maybe it’s because people like you can’t help but throw it out before I get the chance to get sick of it and do it myself.”

“Fair enough.”

“What should we do?”

“I don’t know. I’m cold and I don’t wanna do work.”

“How about a movie marathon?”

“Sure.”

* * *

“This isn’t what I thought you meant when you said movie,” you huff as the black opening credit scene dissolves and a French couple in a black and white colorscape whisper to one another in a moonlit alley.

“You said you didn’t care what we watched.”

“That was under the assumption that I would be able to understand it. There’s not even subtitles.”

“You don’t need them.”

“Yes, I do, because I don’t speak French. And neither do you.”

“That doesn’t really matter. You can read their body language and get all you need to from that.”

You try to fix your stare on the couple who is now running from the police with a pair of bloodied knives in their hands and smiles on their faces.

“This isn’t a horror movie, is it?”

“No,” he trails off suspiciously. When you whip your head to the side to glare at him, he cracks. “What? It’s not! It’s a thriller.”

“Anything that could give me nightmares is a horror movie, Taehyung.”

“It’s not even that scary,” he says right at the moment when the couple is seen carving into a police man’s face with the previously shown knives.

The cinematic effects are gross but clearly dated and if you were a reasonable person, you would find it laughable. But instead the dyed corn syrup dripping off the actor’s face just makes your stomach clench and you grab onto Taehyung’s arm out of disgust and anger.

“Why would you put me through this?”

“To get your mind off of Jungkook,” he says matter-of-factly.

Your mouth drops open when you realize partly that he’s right and partly you haven’t had a single moping thought about Jungkook and Yoori in the near hour it took to pick up snacks from the convenience store and walk over to Taehyung’s place from the pond while avoiding ice patches. It’s honestly a brilliant plan, but you hate him for it at the same time.

“You’re a dick.” You punctuate the statement with a sharp punch to the meat of his shoulder and revel in the bashful look he gives you while rubbing at the spot. “But thank you. If you wanted to get my mind off it, you didn’t have to use horror to do it.”

“True, but my options were limited since, one, I don’t have cable, and two, I don’t want to watch reality tv.”

“We could make fun of shitty rom-coms. That’s a good compromise.”

And that is how you end up watching a slightly watered down knock off of Fifty Shades with the TV remote in hand, rewinding, so you can point out where you can see the camera person’s reflection in the female lead’s pendant necklace.

“That’s a huge oversight. I can’t believe these people walk around like they’ve dedicated their lives to a certain level of craft only to do this”

“I mean, the fact that they used Papyrus font in their online movie poster should have clued you in,” you snort.

Both of you watch as the male lead swims up to his co-star where she stands at the foot of the pool he’s in. The grin he flashes her is blindingly white and his teeth resemble pearls in an unattractively artificial way.

“Why do people think veneers like that look good,” you sigh and shift so you can reach over and play with the faded pink strands of Taehyung’s hair. He leans in unconsciously and shrugs.

“I don’t know. Maybe they think people won’t be able to tell the difference.”

“I suppose that’s fair. But with everything being filmed in high definition these days, there’s less wiggle room for that sort of thing.”

Male lead reaches for the slender ankle of his co-star and tugs her into the pool, soaking her dainty white eyelet dress. When she comes up for air, she pouts for a second before swiping at him and missing. She nearly falls face first back into the water but he reaches out with a condescending laugh and catches her with ease despite what physics would predict to be possible. The moment turns serious quickly as the pair stare into each other’s eyes. You don’t understand how she’s supposed to be the homely girl next door when she’s got what you know are the most expensive mink lash extensions on the market and the most symmetrical, albeit oddly familiar, face you’ve ever seen.

“Wow,” Taehyung scoffs as the actor pulls her in for a heated kiss. “They really think that’s what buildup looks like. It’s fifteen minutes in and we still don’t know his name. And didn’t they just meet for the first time the day before this?”

“Keep up, Tae. Don’t you know all women want in life is to get rawed in the pool of the mystery guy who cut them off in the supermarket 24 hours prior?”

“Ah. That must be why my sex life is so grim.”

“Look at that,” you gesture to the couple that is now stumbling out of the pool and into the man’s perfectly lit mansion in a race to get to the bedroom. “That could be you if you had decided to take your dad’s car this year and cut some random girl off in the parking lot of the Price Chopper.”

“Damn. Would I have his mansion too?” You nod gravely.

“Probably.” You finish plaiting the hair of his sideburns and leave him with a little inflexible pink braid poking out from his temple.

“How’s it look?” He gestures to the side of his head with your handiwork on it.

“You look really great. You might not even need to break the rules of parking etiquette to snag a hot date.”

You both return your attention to the TV only to find the movie couple in a fairly compromising position. The lead actress is bent over the arm of a sofa as the camera ‘artistically’ captures the rapid way the actor drills into her from behind. It catches both of you off guard and a nervous laugh bubbles its way out of you.

“This is ridiculous.” Taehyung rolls his eyes and turns to laugh at the display with you.

“Yeah,” you say half-heartedly.

Even though the movie is horribly done and nothing in its execution per se turns you on, it is Friday. And your body has gotten pretty used to your weekend schedule. Which, up until recently, would have meant that at this hour Taehyung and Hoseok would be out somewhere looking for a place to vape while you helped Jungkook out of his pants at his apartment.

But that’s not what’s happening right now because Jungkook is probably on his way in a rental car to pick Yoori up for their third official date. To the movies. Still, that doesn’t stop your body from revving up more than it should after watching such a stupid romance movie. If you close your eyes, you’re sure you could remember with scary accuracy the feel of Jungkook’s hands on you.

“Hey.” At your awkward silence, Taehyung’s voice lowers and he leans in to tease you, “You’re not actually enjoying this, are you?”

“N-no, of course not.”

He lets out an incredulous laugh. “Holy crap, you are. You’re into this.”

“No, I’m not! Stop!”

“This is hilarious. I can’t believe you like this.” He stares at the screen with a baffled smile on his face, trying to see what could be so appealing about the affected look of arousal on the male lead’s face as he bites his lip with zero finesse. “Is it him?”

“It’s not him,” you scrabble for an answer, “I-it’s the actress.” At that his eyes widen and he looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. “I mean, I recognize her from a porno, that’s all.”

“No way,” he says before studying the woman’s face. When the actor pulls tightly on her ponytail and forces a whining moan out of her, his eyes light up with recognition. “Wait, yeah, you’re right.”

“Told you.”

“Hold on. You watch porn?” You roll your eyes.

“Yeah, I watch porn. Sometimes I need some visual stimuli too. And she’s been in a few of them.”

“Hmm,” he says finally, “Never would have thought you’d like her stuff.”

“You say that like you’ve thought about what I’d watch.”

“Well, you’re just so—“

A sharp sound comes from near the front door as Hoseok barges in hurriedly, nearly falling and spilling the grocery bags in his hands. He places them on the small table outside the entrance to the tiny kitchenette.

“Tae, I tried calling you like 5 different times about getting the door. Why didn’t you pick up your...phone,” Hoseok trails off as he takes in the fact that you’re in Taehyung’s apartment, very early to the Friday game night, seated very close to Taehyung with a flaming cheeks on the couch while what looks like soft-core porn plays in the background.

“My phone must have died from the cold. Bro, I’m really sor—“

“What the hell are you two doing,” he sneers.

“We were just watching a movie,” you pipe in when you sense a weird shift in the mood.

Obviously, you’re closer to Jungkook than you are to Taehyung or Hoseok, but you really don’t understand the strange energy in the room. Hoseok looks angrier than he should about Taehyung not helping him with carrying some snacks and Taehyung looks overly imploring. Perhaps this is just how they are when they’re annoyed, but it still strikes you as odd even from a slightly distant perspective. When no one says anything you get up slowly, like you would around wild animals in a territory death match, and move towards Hoseok to help him with the food.

“Here, I’ll help you put these away,” you say quietly with a soft hand on his back to get him to break his cold glare. “Don’t be mad at Tae, he didn’t do anything.”

The glare is only slightly softened as he turns to you, jaw clenched. “Well, what about you?”

“What are you talking about?”

The genuine confusion on your face seems to dissolve whatever’s left of the sudden rage that filled him, and he breaks down and lets you take the bags he’s still holding from him. While your back is turned, Hoseok looks suspiciously over at Taehyung, who is still staring back with large, nervous eyes.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly when you finish unpacking the first bag of chips and come over to him to take the next one.

“Whatever,” you huff good-naturedly. “As long as you leave me out of your little lovers’ quarrel, I’m fine. Go make up, I’ll finish with these.”

You watch Hoseok amble over to Taehyung and begin whispering frantically before they finally come to some sort of agreement and hug it out.

When you come back to the couch, Hoseok has taken your spot next to Taehyung and has man-spread all over the rest of the free space. Even the back of the couch is claimed by his outstretched arms. Both of them stop their whispered conversation and turn to see why you’re hovering.

“What’s up,” Hoseok inquires suspiciously.

“Are we gonna do anything tonight? I could be in bed right now, but instead I’m here.”

“We have to pick the game first. My vote is for poker.”

“No poker. You still owe me like 80 bucks from last time you thought you could bluff,” Taehyung crosses his arms in a huff.

“That’s in the past, I’m a new man now. This Hoseok doesn’t owe you anything.”

“You’re an ass.” Taehyung springs to the side and quickly locks Hoseok in a sloppy headlock.

You watch them struggle on the couch in mild interest until Taehyung loses his footing and Hoseok’s wiggling underneath him pitches them both onto the floor. Someone’s head hits the coffee table on the way down, and you wince in sympathy, but they carry on like nothing happened.

The idea of letting them tire themselves out seems appealing at first but when Hoseok sinks his teeth into Taehyung’s hoodie-clad bicep and draws out a yelp, you intervene as neutrally as possible.

“Why don’t we just start with Gin Rummy?”

“Okay.” Hoseok drops Taehyung’s arm from his mouth, suddenly content.

You give him a wide berth and wait until after he goes into the kitchen to hunt for a deck of cards to offer Taehyung a helping hand up off the ground. He doesn’t make eye contact with you as you make your way over to the table, so you can’t silently grill him.

“How many is it? 5 per person,” Hoseok asks while shuffling the cards.

Small Styrofoam bowls are neatly laid out across the center of the table, each one filled with the chips from earlier. You perch in the chair next to Hoseok so you’re close to the Cheetos.

“It’s 7, I think.”

“Cool,” is all he says before handing you your cards.

You go around the table for a few rounds, placing cards down that you don’t need, picking up cards that you do and the occasional chip. Halfway through the first round, Taehyung gets up to turn off the fluorescents and turn on the fairy lights Hoseok won’t stop teasing him for having. You sync your phone up to his speaker and play music in the background and revel in the fact that you’re getting back into the swing of having fun with them. Without Jungkook.

“You still got beer, right?” Hoseok doesn’t look up from his cards since he’s very close to winning the round and he needs only 1 more card.

“Yeah,” you say, slapping down another card. “We picked some up at the convenience store. I’ll go get a pack for the table.”

“Thanks. I think I’m gonna call out for food too. What do you guys want?”

“I want pancakes,” Taehyung smiles brightly at the prospect of something other than the sad deli meats in his fridge.

Opening the door to his fridge leaves you confused. “You have stuff for pancakes.”

“Yeah, but I have to cook it,” he pouts at you through the window in the kitchen wall.

“It’s your turn,” Hosoek informs you.

You load up with supplies for making pancakes and head over to the table to distribute the ingredients amongst yourselves. Taehyung cracks eggs when it’s not his turn, Hoseok levels out the dry ingredients. You’re pouring milk into a bowl when one of your favorite songs from high school starts blaring through the speakers.

“Oh shit! Do you guys remember when this came out?”

“They played it at my homecoming dance,” Hoseok grimaces at the memory while you gyrate and mix the ingredients in a large bowl. “And then they played it on the radio for, like, 3 months straight afterwards. It was fucking annoying.”

“Yeah, but it’s been so long now. It’s good again. Come on, get up.” You pass Taehyung the bowl and creep towards Hoseok.

“What are you doing?” He smiles up at you like you’re crazy. You lace your fingers together and pull him out of his chair.

“What does it look like? I’m making you dance with me.”

“But you can’t dance, though.”

“Don’t ruin the fun,” you whine.

At first he doesn’t dance with you. He just continues to stand and lets you mouth the words at him and occasionally wave your hands in his face or pinch his cheeks when the lyrics get good. He even lets you bump hips with him and pretend to grind on him from behind.

Despite himself, your good mood is infectious and when you scamper back in front of him for the chorus, he surprises you by taking you into waltz position. It doesn’t fit the song, but it’s funny because you end up doing a bouncy-looking two step that resembles a sped-up prom dance. Taehyung hoots supportively from where he stands in the kitchen, melting butter on the stove.

Hoseok bends you over into a theatrical dip, causing you to let out a shrieking laugh and clutch at him so he doesn’t drop you. The song ends, but he jokingly holds the pose until your thighs are burning and you’re yelling for him to pull you back up. The front door clicks open while you bicker lightly.

“Look who decided to show up,” Hoseok drawls and finally brings you back up slowly, so you don’t get a head rush.

You blink away the stars that were starting to form in the corners of your eyes and realize Jungkook is, in fact, back from his date. At 9:43, no less. With Yoori in tow.

In your opinion, it’s much too early for someone to be back from date night with the long-time love of their life, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. Instead you fiddle with the hem of your sweater nervously. Something about Yoori and Jungkook being present in the same room makes you a bit anxious. Perhaps its because it makes your policy about stopping your weekly rendezvous until things get physically serious between the two of them seem very flimsy.

Yoori and Jungkook are both clearly tipsy. You can tell from the way Jungkook hangs himself off her petite frame like he’s looking for support. You roll your eyes and go over to wrestle him from her and waddle him over to the dining room table where he can sit.

“How was your date,” you turn to Yoori who is hovering behind you with sleepy eyes.

“It was alright. The movie was a little boring,” she stage-whispers into your ear. “Don’t tell Kook.”

“You didn’t like the movie?” His head lolls back so he can look up at Yoori with doe eyes. Disappointment makes them look extra round and shiny.

She raises her brows guiltily. “I thought the new superhero movie would have been more your speed. I didn’t mind the idea of seeing it. I like action films.”

“Oh.”

You scamper out of the dining area as fast as you can to join Hoseok and Taehyung in the kitchen. The awkward couple moment they’re having isn’t something you think you should be privy to anyway.

Taehyung chuckles at the mortified expression on your face while Hoseok’s considers you stoically.

“Are they being too mushy in there?”

“No, not really.” You sigh. “It’s just weird realizing that I’ve never really been around them when they’re together. I don’t like the idea that I can’t get a read on the situation when they’re both good friends, you know?”

Hoseok snorts dryly. “Well, you know what they say. Dating changes people.”

“Yeah, but this is Kook we’re talking about,” Taehyung murmurs while stirring the hidden flour patches at the bottom of the bowl back into the batter. “Do you really think he’s changed that much?”

You shrug. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe you’ve changed,” Hoseok suggests.

And maybe you have. Not in the normal way, where you outgrow people. But maybe something about you has changed since you started being intimate with Jungkook in such a way where you can’t be just his gaming buddy or his companionable silence partner. Gone are the days where you could push down your infatuation long enough to sit pressed close to each other on the couch when the Iron Man movie series is marathoning on TV. You’re not sure if that’s made things easier or harder on you. Perhaps its been a little bit of both.

“What are you guys up to?”

Jungkook has managed to amble over to the kitchen while staying upright thanks to Yoori’s guiding hands. Now he’s peering into the entrance of the kitchen after the way you, Taehyung, and Hoseok whispering to one another piqued his interest. Yoori lays on the sofa, recovering from too many glasses of complimentary movie chardonnay.

You keep your head down and pretend watching Taehyung ladle batter onto the griddle is fascinating enough not to reply. Thoughts of whether or not something crucial has shifted occupy your mind too much for you to speak.

“Just playing cards and making pancakes,” Taehyung shouts over the crackling sound of the first pancake hitting the hot skillet.

“The usual,” Hoseok jokes before pitching his voice into a slyer register. “How was the date?”

“It was fine,” Jungkook answers shyly, eyes glued to your silent form. The button down he’s wearing suddenly feels too tight and he undoes the top button to give himself some air. “How was your night?”

“Here, I’ll take over,” you mumble.

You take the spatula from Taehyung’s hand and motion for the guys to leave  the kitchen while you flip the pancakes. It’ll give you something to do, and Taehyung’s thoughtful enough to go without asking questions. They don’t move far and instead Hosoek and Taehyung crowd Jungkook just outside the kitchen doorframe. Hopefully none of them notice how you turn the heat down so you can listen better. A masochistic part of you is curious to know how the date went even if you’re not sure if you can face him without combusting.

“Come on, tell us what happened. It’s just us guys,” Hoseok hisses before remembering that you’re you and you’re probably listening. Suddenly he feels like a douche. “We’re all friends,” he corrects himself. Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be aware of your eavesdropping and complies.

“I…what do you wanna know?”

“Where’d you go?”

“To the movies. To see Cloud Break.”

Taehyung whistles lowly. “That’s supposed to be the number one date movie of the year.”

“It was very romantic,” Jungkook cracks a small, shy smile. “But I don’t think she really liked it.”

“Stil. Sounds like our boy is a real Casanova, huh?” Hoseok pats him roughly on the back with a wide grin. “The movies, though. Did you make it to third base?”

“Jeez, don’t sound so excited when you ask that,” Taehyung says with a cringe.

“What? I just wanna know if he’s any closer to swiping that V card. So,” Hoseok turns to stare, “Did you?”

“We’re taking it slow,” is all Jungkook says, eyes shifting behind the guys, towards you.

“Pancakes are ready,” you call from the kitchen. You figure it’s safe for you go back out, so you load a plate up with a tall stack and turn the stove off. Yoori’s head pops up at the sound of fresh food and hops up to come join you.

After you put the plate down, you wait until everyone is seated. Oddly enough, Jungkook and Yoori both sit on either side of the head of the table, leaving you to sit in between them.

“Thanks for cooking,” Jungkook mutters as soon as you sit down.

“No need to thank me. I’m just doing my part to have a fun Friday,” you answer awkwardly.

“These look better than the ones at Dreamies,” Yoori beams over at you. She cuts her pancakes happily before shoving a large, syrup-laden bite in her mouth. She gives you a cute thumbs up that breaks your serious mood for a moment.

You give her a warm squeeze on the shoulder. “Thanks for the high praise.”

“So, uh, what else have you guys been doing,” Jungkook inquires politely.

“Well,” Hoseok mentions nonchalantly through a full mouth, gesturing towards you. “I caught these two watching porn earlier when I came in with groceries. And this one couldn’t keep her hands off me after that.”

“Oh.” Jungkook’s cheeks start to heat as he looks between you and Hoseok and then you and Taehyung.

You almost choke on your own food as Hoseok’s words register. “That is so inaccurate. How are you so comfortable lying like that?”

“Is it not the truth? Kook, you even saw her when you came in. Seems like she’s a real minx when she gets going. Who knew all it took was Fifty Shades.”

Taehyung tries to come to your rescue. “We weren’t even watching Fifty Shades—”

“So, it was actual porn,” Hoseok’s eyes narrow at him suspiciously.

“Oh my god,” you raise your hands in surrender and then push your plate back. “I can’t do this. I’m freezing and you’re annoying. Tae, I’m stealing some clothes. Yoori, you look cold. I’ll bring you something too.” You storm out of the dining room and make a beeline for Taehyung’s room. 

While you were used to Hoseok’s ribbing, today you were extra sensitive to it and you needed some air. But you are actually cold, so you do spend a few minutes rummaging through Taehyung’s immaculate wardrobe until you find a sweater that has you smiling widely at the memories it evokes.

“I can’t believe you still have this,” you remark with arms out to showcase the sweater when you come back. The four of them all turn to see the sweater you’re wearing.

It’s a run-of-the-mill sweater until you look at the picture that’s been screen-printed onto the front. It’s a picture of you and Taehyung in your freshman year that was taken minutes after the annual Mud Run. It had been a split-second decision the two of you made after a terrible set of midterms, but the smiles on both of your slightly rounder and muddied faces don’t indicate any inkling of regret. You give Yoori the only cashmere you could find that wasn’t on the floor.

“Of course he still has it,” Hoseok smiles proudly, “I put my blood, sweat, and tears into making it. And I was there to take the fricking picture at the end of the race at 9 am on a Saturday. Do you not still have yours?”

“Sadly no. I lost mine when I moved into the sophomore dorms.”

“I wish I had been there to watch the race. I should have stayed on campus,” Jungkook chimes in, cheeks full of pancake.

“Yeah,” Hoseok counters, “But if you had stayed, you wouldn’t have ever gotten Yoori’s number in the first place. So, it all worked out in the end, right?”

Suddenly, you’re not hungry and the lively mood that the night started with has disappeared. Taehyung must sense the subtle downward shift in your shoulders and runs to get the bottle of wine Hoseok bought for you that’s been chilling in the fridge.

“Why don’t we play another game,” he suggests once he’s back at the table and filling your glass.

Yoori perks up. “That’s a great idea! Let’s play something old-school. Do you have any board games?”

“I don’t think either of us has played a board game since before 2010. Much less owned one,” Jungkook winces.

“Really? Well, it doesn’t have to be a board game. Why don’t we do another old-fashioned one. Like Charades.”

Hoseok places his head in his hands elegantly, face the picture of innocence. But you know better.

“Yoori, how do you feel about Truth or Dare?” You squeeze your eyes shut and hope she says she’s never heard of it. Or that she hates it.

“I love Truth or Dare! Let’s play once everyone’s done eating.”

You curse under your breath, but return her excited smile when she turns to you and fills your cup once more. As a safety precaution, you finish the single pancake you’d served yourself earlier before taking another sip. Its not that you’re hungry, but you’d rather not be drinking on a completely empty stomach.

When everyone has had their fill of food, new bottles of booze get taken with you to the living room. There, you all rearrange the couch and the various upholstered chairs that Taehyung has collected until everyone is seated comfortably. Taehyung sits down last because he was in his room searching for his trusted 20 sided die.

“Okay, who’s who?”

“I call 3’s,” Hoseok calls with a hand raised straight in the air.

“No way,” you huff, “You’ll have way too many chances to be It. Pick multiples of at least four or I’m banning you from playing.”

“You can’t ban me from playing. Tae, can she ban me from playing?”

“I’m gonna go ahead and say yeah,” Taehyung says casually. You smile at Hosoek smugly.

“Fine. I pick 5’s.”

“I’ll take 3’s,” Yoori says once she understands the rules you all are operating under. No one goes to argue against her.

“I call even primes,” you say. You’re really not interested in playing this game.

Hoseok rolls his eyes at you. “Why even play if you’re gonna be like that?”

“You’re both wrong,” Taehyun grins. “Odd primes is where it’s at.”

“I guess I’ll take leftovers,” Jungkook sighs. He’s equally unenthused to be playing, but mainly because every previous time he’s played the game, Taehyung has dared him to smack Hoseok’s ass as hard as possible. It never ends well. “What is that? 3, 4, 5, 8 and what else?”

“14 through 16,” you supply automatically.

“Wow,” Yoori coos and latches onto your arm. “You’re so smart.”

“Alright! If everyone has a number, let’s play,” Hoseok shouts.

In the first few rolls, Taehyung and Yoori get the majority of the turns. Yoori is kind and sticks with truths for the most part, forcing Taehyung to bring up the strawberry shaped birthmark on his ass and Jungkook to talk about how he still doesn’t know how to ride a bike. Things pick up a bit when Hoseok manages a roll and Taehyung makes the mistake of choosing Dare. In response, Hoseok tells Taehyung to pull down his pants and show everyone the birthmark. You and Yoori exchange wide glances and giggle quietly as Taehyung downs the rest of his drink for some liquid courage.

“Taehyung,” Yoori giggles behind your hand as you attempt to cover her eyes. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t feel comfortable.”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice,” he grumbles before turning to face away from the group. He tugs his pants and boxers down a few inches before the pert curve of his butt. There, just south of the equator on the globe of his ass lies a very strawberry-shaped birthmark.

Immediately, Yoori chokes on her drink trying, and failing, to stifle her laughter at the pure ridiculousness of the mark. Meanwhile, you aren’t doing much better.

You pull your lip between your teeth as you hold back the cackle you desperately wish to let out. Instead, you opt for reaching out and pinching at the nearest cheek. The way he jumps slightly out of your reach while cupping his junk and glaring weakly at you sends you over the edge.

“Not bad,” Yoori snorts out between giggles.

“Yeah, wait a minute.” You gasp. “You have a cute little ass, Tae. I thought you said you didn’t have time for the gym.”

Taehyung’s face flushes, but he still smiles a self-depricating smile as he pulls up his pants finally. “I don’t. This baby is 100% homegrown.”

“I see. Must be all the tater tots,” you say with tears nearly rolling down your cheeks.

“And all the La-Z boy sitting.”

“Nice.”

Jungkook huffs audibly. He crosses his arms as he watches the game unfold, suddenly infinitely less interested in playing than he was a few minutes ago. “This is stupid.”

“Are you not having fun?”

He turns to Yoori quickly while remembering that he’s seated next to her. His own cheeks color with a bit of shame that he’d been caught being petulant.

“It’s not that. I mean…I just thought this would be a bit more mature.”

Yoori cocks her head to the side to appraise him and takes a sip of wine. “Is Truth or Dare known for its sophisticated gameplay?” A reserved and unreadable smile tugs at the corner of her lips.

“Not really,” he stammers. “I just figured you wouldn’t be interested in immature stuff like this.”

“Hmm. I’m actually having quite a lot of fun. Don’t worry about me and loosen up.”

Jungkook swallows roughly and mentally chides himself for being weird. Even he’s not sure where the pouting spell came from. Regardless, he smothers down the party pooper vibes and tries to enjoy the game as best he can.

Taehyung rolls a 10 and pouts at not be able to get back at Yoori. After all the laughter and the handful of swipes she’d made at his birthmark, he’s eager to pay her back somehow. But all he can do is turn to Hoseok with a bored expression.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare. Do you worst!” Hoseok sits excitedly at the edge of his seat while waiting for Taehyung to come up with a juicy truth or dare.

“Uh, I don’t know, bro. I dare you to do, like, 30 pushups or something.”

“That’s such a shitty dare.”

“I couldn’t think of anything. I was hoping Yoori would roll so I could give her a taste of her own medicine,” he says while locking eyes with Yoori. The two engage in a semi-serious staring competition for a while before they break into laughter.

“This is bullshit,” Hoseok mumbles as he rises from his chair and gets into position to do the pushups.

The room is quiet while everyone waits for him to finish. Sound of his exertion floats over from his section of the circle and you swipe through your twitter feed in the meantime. But you become so engrossed in a recipe for spinach dip that you don’t realize Hoseok has rolled a 2 and is calling out to you.

“What,” you say, distracted by the amount of leafy greens going into the dip.

“Put your phone away,” Hoseok whines, “It’s game night rules.”

You don’t look up from your screen. “Doesn’t count when we’re not playing video games.”

“You suck.”

“So do you.”

“Truth or dare.”

“Dare,” you say on autopilot before realizing the mistake you’ve made.

You let your phone clatter to the ground and prepare to take back what you said, but you can see that its too late from the smirk Hoseok is wearing. It’s the worst kind, too. The smarmy one that lets you know he’s thinking about doing something greasy. You’re willing to bet all the money left in your student account balance that he’s going to dare you to show him your boobs.

“Dare you to kiss Yoori,” he says smugly, like he’s got you cornered.

You’re only slightly surprised and let out a breath of relief. The idea that he might dare you to shed your layers to sit in Taehyung’s freezing living room in just your bra and bottoms was really worrying you.

“Really, Hoseok? What are we, 13?”

Taehyung chimes in with concern. “Yeah. They might not be comfortable with that.”

“I’m fine with it,” Yoori perks up slightly in her seat.

“Okay,” Taehyung hesitates, “But Jungkook—”

“Might not approve of it? Why don’t we ask him,” she supplies before turning to Jungkook. “Kook, what do you think?”

“Well, I—”

“Why the hell would he care,” Hoseok cuts him off. “Dude, you don’t care, right? It’s harmless and its 2018.”

“Y-yeah, I guess.” He pushes his glasses up with his ring finger, a nervous tick you’re familiar with. Your first instinct is to go over and see what’s wrong, but you quell the urge. 

“Holy shit,” Hoseok mumbles to himself when he realizes this is really happening. You get up to join Yoori in the love seat she’s occupying. Before you can change your minds he speaks up. “No pecks. It has to be real.”

“Figured as much,” you roll your eyes and gesture for Yoori to scooch closer to you. She sends you a smile that’s hidden from the others by the shiny curtain of her hair. You mirror it back automatically.

“For 60 seconds,” Hoseok shouts. Yoori’s eyes widen at the time condition but she doesn’t say anything.

“That’s too much.”

“30 seconds, but you have to use tongue.”

“Hoseok!” You and Taehyung yell simultaneously.

“Fine,” he says before thinking for a beat. “45 seconds but no lame stuff. Final offer.”

You check in with Yoori to see if she objects, but she merely rests her cheek on your shoulder and gives you a thumbs up.

“Deal, you damn pervert.”

Hoseok scrambles to get his phone timer launched while you and Yoori arrange yourselves accordingly once and then a second time when Hoseok says he can’t see. You whisper an apology on his behalf, but Yoori waves it off and pulls you in with a gentle hand resting at the base of your neck. You can’t help but notice that even from a few inches away, her skin is flawless. Its almost unfair.

“Alright. Start.”

Yoori swoops in and immediately parts your lips with her own. They’re soft and taste like the moscato she’s been drinking, and it’s honestly a very tantalizing sensory experience. You let her take over, let her press you closer until her nose brushes your cheek and she sucks your lip into her mouth. It takes you by surprise and when you gasp softly, she teases the border of your lips with her tongue ever so lightly. You let out an appreciative hum, surprising yourself. She smiles, nearly breaking the kiss, before nipping at you once. Tentatively, you brush your tongue against hers. She surges forward and works over your mouth until the soft chiming of Hoseok’s alarm alerts you that the dare has been completed.

You pull away first with hot cheeks and a slightly swollen mouth. Yoori looks pleased with herself as she looks over your flustered state. Neither of you see any of the guys’ shocked, wistful expressions. Yoori moves to smooth down the flyaways she created when she pressed you into the seat’s upholstery.

“You kiss just like Jungkook,” she laughs before pulling away slightly. The others murmur in the background as they strain to listen in.

“Wait, what?” Her words are slow to register at first. “You guys have kissed?”

“Yeah. Loads of times,” she snickers, “On the way to the restaurant, in the parking lot of Dreamies, in the back of his car. My apartment. We’ve even—” She takes in the mortified look on your face and grimaces. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry. I know you don’t like to hear about this stuff. I’ll stop.”

You make mental note of all the occasions she’s mentioned. One of which was their first date. But just yesterday Jungkook had told you that they hadn’t even started holding hands as a couple. And while he hadn’t made a comment about anything else, the implication behind the statement was that they definitely hadn’t done anything more than that. Something about his more daring behavior struck you as unusual. But if he’d been getting other practice elsewhere, it wouldn’t be odd at all.

He had lied to you. And you wonder what else he’d been lying about.

When you turn around to face Jungkook, he looks pale and scared. You’ve only ever seen him look like that a handful of times and it was when he was in deep shit and it was his own fault. During those times, you’d somehow managed to show him why he was wrong while also making him feel supported. This time, though, there was no way you could do that. Not without throwing away what little dignity you have left from getting into this heinous arrangement in the first place.

Taehyung, Yoori, and Hoseok look on silently as you and Jungkook exchange the long look. Jungkook’s chest rises and falls rapidly as adrenaline runs through his system. When you stand up, he stands up at the same time, a hand instinctively reaching out.

You ignore him in favor of grabbing your things without a word and pulling up the bus schedule app on your phone. You’re not going to force yourself to wait around for an uber to pick you up, but you’re also not going to subject yourself to further torture by walking home in the middle of winter. Once you see that the next bus is coming in 20 minutes, you put on your jacket.

“I’m heading out. I’ll see you guys around.” You wince as your voice cracks a little bit, but don’t bother lingering to see if people noticed. You hurry out with the hopes that you can find a place to hide and wait for the bus before Jungkook can follow you out. He calls your name, softly at first, but you don’t acknowledge him.

But you don’t get any further than a few meters away down Taehyung’s hallway before Jungkook’s catching up after having sprinted out after you.

“Jungkook, stop,” is all you can trust yourself to say as you stare at your shoes.

“I can explain.”

“Fine.” You look up at him, gaze sharp. “Explain.”

He seems taken aback like he didn’t think you’d let him speak. His demeanor turns sheepish. “I didn’t mean to lie to you. It just...happened.”

“Do you think I’m stupid enough to believe that? You made a choice, Jungkook. It didn’t just happen. I want to know why you chose to lie.”

“I just…wasn’t ready for the weekends to stop.”

“Look, I get it. You got used to getting your rocks off. But we had a deal. It shouldn’t have mattered that you didn’t want it to end. As soon as you and Yoori got physical, we were supposed to go back to normal.”

“That’s not why I decided to lie,” he hisses.

“Then why did you?”

“Because!”

“Because?” You scoff. “That’s not an answer.”

“Because I,” he stammers, not sure of what to  to say. “I didn’t feel comfortable detailing mine and Yoori’s intimacy to you.”

“You didn’t feel comfortable?” Your voice is carefully low, but raises as you continue. “You didn’t feel comfortable telling me, the girl who has been your best friend since we were kids, about you and your new girlfriend? The girl who you had spit into your palm yesterday so you could jerk off in her bed yesterday? You didn’t feel fucking uncomfortable then, Jungkook!”

“Well, you’re always talking about my comfort. Shouldn’t it matter when I’m uncomfortable? Even if its at a weird time?”

“Fine. Let’s say you were uncomfortable. You still should have told me.”

“Why is it your business?”

Your jaw drops open. “Maybe because yours and Yoori’s relationship is the reason this whole thing started? And maybe because if you’re going to be running between the two of us and swapping bodily fluids, I should know? For my own fucking health?”

He stammers when he realizes that reason never came to mind once. Its a losing argument, he knows. As a last ditch effort, he turns things around.

“Is that the only reason why you’re mad? Because you think I would have given you an STD?”

“Are you serious,” your voice cracks again as tears take hold of you. “You think that’s all I care about?”

“You haven’t made any other points,” Jungkook sniffs like he’s indifferent to your shimmering eyes. “What else am I supposed to think? Is there something else?”

“I can’t believe someone so smart can be so stupid. You really don’t get it? I can’t keep sneaking around with you like this because you’re dating a girl who’s my friend now. But even if she weren’t, I can’t keep doing this because I have feelings—”

The front door opens and Hoseok slides through and closes it softly. He takes in your bowed shoulders, watery eyes, and shaking hands before pinning Jungkook with a glare that’s so potent he steps back a bit.

“You okay,” he nods his chin at you subtly.

“Y-yeah, Hobi. I’m fine. Me and Kook were just talking.”

“Just talking, huh?”

“Hoseok,” Jungkook grits through clenched teeth, anxious for you to continue what you were about to say. “Go back inside. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Oh, I think it does. I mean, she’s my friend and you’ve been screwing her over figuratively and literally for the past month now, haven’t you?”

Your eyes widen and tears of embarrassment slip over your waterline. “You knew?”

“Of fucking course, I knew. You were walking around like you were suddenly getting laid and Kook was showing up to TA sessions with hickies on his neck the week after we made a joke about you taking his V card off his hands. All at the same time that you magically have to start staying over after game night at his place for tutoring,” he spits the word out. “You’re the smartest girl I know. There’s no way you actually have that much to learn from Kook of all people.”

“Oh, come on,” Jungkook drawls and steps in between you and Hosoek. “Don’t pretend to care about her now.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re always picking fights with her. You don’t care what’s going here, you’re just trying to feed the flames.”

“Kook, stop,” you rasp from behind him, but he ignores you and shoves a hand into the center of Hoseok’s chest.

“Say more,” Hoseok smiles darkly, egging him on. The two of them stand inches apart, each one poised to attack the other at a moment’s notice.

“You’ve been itching to see things fall apart for me because you can’t handle being the oldest and the least accomplished in the group.” You try not to gasp but it’s hard because you’ve never heard him say something so nasty to anyone, let alone to someone you would both call a friend. “You’re just mad that your…your indifferent stoner, beta cool guy act hasn’t paid off and you’re still alone with your hand on the weekends. I can tell when someone wants what I have. You’re like every other stupid bully from high school, but with none of the popularity.”

Your mouth drops open, but you can’t find any words to stop the situation from escalating any further. Jungkook smirks at his silence. But Hoseok merely raises a casual eyebrow before turning to look down at you from over Jungkook’s shoulder.

“If you wanted sex that badly, you could have just come to me, you know. Offer still stands now, too.”

Before you can counter anything either of them has said, Jungkook’s fist collides with Hoseok’s jaw. The sound resonates in the empty hallway with a loud crunching sound followed by Hoseok tumbling to the floor and Jungkook yowling in pain at his damaged knuckles. Jungkook automatically turns to you, grimacing and cradling his hand, but you swerve past him to check on Hoseok.

He’s still very much conscious, but the blow took him by surprise and he lost his balance. There’s a little bit of blood when Jungkook’s fist split the skin on the side of Hoseok’s jawline and you can tell already that there will be swelling and bruising. But he should be fine and he doesn’t show any of the signs of concussion that you remember reading about a while ago.

You pull him up by the hand and sling his arm over your shoulder when he stumbles once upright. Together you hobble back into the apartment. Taehyung and Yoori are sitting stiffly at the dining room table when you come in and both rush forward to help you. Jungkook shuffles in after, at a loss for what’s going on.

Wrapping a bag of frozen vegetables from Taehyung’s freezer in a dish towel, you tend to Hoseok’s minor wounds. Taehyung looks tired and frantic as he looks at his friend in pain.

“I don’t get it. What happened out there?”

You hang your head in shame and to avoid both Taehyung and Hoseok’s watchful gazes. Thankfully Hoseok doesn’t say anything, but you’re so embarrassed and disoriented that nothing satisfying comes out.

“They were fighting. And Jungkook punched him.”

“But why would he do that? Hoseok, did you say something?”

“Don’t blame Hobi, he was trying to help me,” you whisper so Yoori can’t hear. You’re not sure you can handle breaking the news to everyone just yet. “Tae, I haven’t been honest with you a while now. Things have been going on between me and Kook and it hasn’t been right. All I can say is that I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t fix anything, but its been eating me up.” 

Jungkook watches as Yoori stands off to the side, looking lost and a little out of place as she tries to parse out where the boundaries for her are. She looks between you and him with uncertainty in her eyes before she finally comes over to check in with him first. He waves her off and watches her naturally gravitate towards you.

When Yoori comes asking you what’s happened with worry in her eyes, you look back at Jungkook for a moment before bawling your eyes out in the middle of the kitchen. Yoori envelopes you in a hug immediately, and you let her comfort you despite the fact that you’ve been secretly highjacking her relationship. Sobs wrack your body for a moment before your phone chimes to let you know your bus is coming soon.

You whisper in her ear that you’re sorry and you’ll explain when it’s the right time. You squeeze her soft hands to your cheek and stutter out that you don’t deserve a friend like her, but that you hope you can remedy that sooner rather than later. With that, you whisper a goodbye and head out, giving Jungkook a wide berth.

He turns around just in time for him to catch one last glimpse of you before the door swings shut behind you.

[the-fiction-witch]

Girly

MOVIE: MAZE RUNNER

COUPLE NEWT X READER

RATING: CUTE + FUNNY + FLIRTY

I shudder, my body as cold as ice. I shot up feeling the dark rusted metal around me I was soaking wet, just getting my breath back.

There where boxes, everywhere full of all sorts of things, they where piled higher then me and only absent where I sat

"Hello? Someone? Somebody's help!" I yelled and just as I did I heard a alarm and this place moved the floor itself moving upward occasional flashing lights illuminating things for milliseconds before being to far to see I looked and noticed a celling come up faster and faster and faster if we didn't slow it was going to hit-

CRASH!

And Everything went dark.

"What is it?" A voice asks

"Newt what do you see?" Another asked

"It's a girl..." Another voice answered

"A girl?" The first voice asked sounding angry

"You sure newt?" Another voice chimed in

"I think... The hair, the build, the... Tits, it sure as bloody hell looks like a girl" the voice answered

"Why would they send up a girl?" Another asked

"get her out!" A voice of authority ordered I felt hands on me as I was carefully lifted and set down on something it was comfy and soft like a blanket almost "what the hell is this? A girl? What is she doing here?"

"Who knows... Maybe there being nice? Maybe we might get some variation in this place"

"A girl is dangerous, we need these boys focused now with some girl walking around, god knows what it will be like"

"I don't know Alby...maybe it will be okay"

"Okay? Newt! Look at them! It's a mad house and she hasn't even woken up yet!" He said "you deal with her I've got work to do"

It was quite for a while before I heard that voice again

"Hey? Uhh girly? You should really wake up" he smiled as I felt a finger on my face gently caressing my skin to try to gently wake me but I tried to push the finger away but In my just woken up, terror I bent it back away from me "AAAAAAHHH! Bloody hell!" He screamed  he was a young boy or so he looked with fluffy blonde hair caked with dirt a terrible tattered white hoodie and brown pants holding his hand in pain as many others rushed over, I was in a hammock under some wooden structure, outside was green and grey what exactly I couldn't tell

"What's wrong newt?" One boy asked he must have spoke earlier as I recognise the voice trying to look at this boys hand

"Shuck! I think she broke my finger!" The boy complained almost crying

"Ohh what where you doing to her?" Another asked he had very cared for hair and tones arms

"I was just trying to wake her!" The boy complained

"Let me look!" The other boy complained forcing this blonde boys hand away "shucking hell she did break newts finger" he laughs

"She did what!" The voice that had been talking with this blonde boy yelled "take newt to the med jack's take her to the pit, carefully!" He yelled and those boys got hold of me and carried me of somewhere else even if I was kicking and screaming the whole way.

It had been days I had been in here sometimes boys would drop me off a plate off food and some drink but then run off Again, I was so confused where I was what was going on, I did feel bad for that poor blond boy, I believe from what I overheard and from the talking I could pick in here his name was newt and I had defiantly broke his finger, I did feel bad I didn't mean to, I just didn't want him to touch me I didn't mean to hurt him he seemed nice and all. When that very athorative boy came sitting with me I think this was alby,

"If we let you out you have to swear on your life your not doing something like that again" he warned and I nodded so he let me out "welcome to the glade, girl" he says as I got my footing and he walked off this place was beautiful, a nice green glade with houses and bonfires even a forest but it was surrounded in all sides by these looming grey walls I didn't really know what to do or where to go so I wondered around a while without much of a purpose till I thought of something to do, go and see that poor boy and apologize I wondered around for a while and spotted his mess of hair as he sat on a bench trying to see but often pricking his fingers I went over to the table and smiled and he saw me and panicked trying to move away

"What- what do you want?" He asked protecting his bandaged hand I didn't know what to say really so I sat across from him taking the needle and the clothing finishing up sewing it for him "you want to help?" He asked and I nod "ohh uhh here you do this half" he says handing me half of the little like he had as he for another needle and thread "I uhh I am sorry, I shouldn't have touched you while you where asleep," he explained and I smiled at him making him blush a little "you uhh you don't talk much do you girly?" He asked and I giggled shaking my head "it's alright, I was like that, I didn't speak to anyone for weeks when I first came up... You'll find someone you'll talk to" he shrugged just as I finished up what he gave me "your much better at this then I am" he blushed I giggled a little and moved my hand gently sliding my hand Into his Intertwining our fingers he blushed more hardly looking at me mostly looking at our hands

"I'm sorry newt" I smiled "for breaking your finger"

"Uhhh that's okay, don't worry about it." He blushed "apology accepted girly" he smiled "hey uhh how about I give you a tour of the glade? So you can learn your way around" he offers and i nodded so we finished up and got up I giggled gently taking his hand again and he held my hand tightly too

"So I don't get lost" I blushed

"Okay girly" he blushed starting to lead me around the glade

I giggled humming my little tune as I wondered out towards the deadheads

"Your late" he says

"I had to deal with zart" I sighed as I spotted newt sat on a blanket waiting for me

"Was he bothering again?" He asks and i nod sitting down beside him "alright I'll have a word" he says "hello girly" he smiled taking my hand

"Hi newt, how was your check up?" I ask

"Ohh Clint said a few more weeks then my fingers all better" he smiled "bacon?" He asks and I nodded having some

"Cookie?" I offer

"Aww thank you girly, you didn't have to make me cookies" he blushed

"I like to" I smile

"Your too see to me you really are" he smiled

"I like to, I'm still working in being sorry for your finger" I smiled

"Girly, you don't have to be sorry for that anymore, it's alright I forgave you months ago" he says squeezing my hand

"Did the boys give you any trouble today?" I ask

"Uhh...Alby did, he wanted to know where I was going with all this stuff" he says

"And you said?" I ask

"I said I was going to the forest to have dinner on my own" he shrugged "he seemed happy with that" he smiled "Uhhh look love, there was actually something I wanted to talk to you about today" he says

"Ohh what?" I asked

"I was wondering as...well we spend so much time together and, you've been holding my hand since you got here that maybe you... Wanted to, be my girlfriend?" He asked

"I assumed I already was" I giggled

"Ohh? Well then, in that case I have something else to ask girly" he blushed

"What newt?" I laughed

"Could I kiss you?" He asks

"Aww newt of course you can" I giggled

"You mean it?" He asks

"Of course" I smiled he blushed hard looking at the floor a little holding my hand a little tighter he glanced to my lips and fixed a bit of hair out my face as he leaned closer, the leaned closer to smiling sweetly at him before he jumped forward pressing our lips together his lips where soft slightly cracked where he bites them sometimes I closed my eyes focusing on his sweet little movements that I happily returned I noticed his sweet scent, like grass, mud, tea and mint... And I could clearly smell the soap from teh showers he must have had a shower before we came out here till he pulled away and got his breath as I don't think he was breathing thought that "so?" I ask Carefully

"So..." He blushed messing with his hair

"That was nice" I smiled nuzzling into his neck

,"You liked it?" He asks and I giggled

"Of course I did newt" i laughed "did you-" I began

"Of course I liked it, well... I loved it actually" he blushed "so uhh... Could I kiss you again?"

"Newt, you can kiss me whenever you like, as much as you like" i laughed nuzzling closer to his neck giving his skin there s little kiss making him jump a little

"I can?" He asks

"Of course you can" I smiled "so long as I get to kiss you all I want to?"

"Definitely girly" he smiled giving my lips a quick peck then another and another started to kiss me deeper again his hand wrapped around my waist the other still holding mine

"Newt! Newt where are you!" A voice yelled it sounded like Alby so I gave him another kiss and hid myself away in the tree's and brushes

"Hey Alby, something up?" He asked

"We can't find the girl, have you seen her?"

"Not since lunch Alby"

"You sure about that newt?"

"Yeah I think so"

"Alright" Alby said leaving the woods so I came out of my hidding spot

"That was close, we'll have to start getting more sneaky" he smiled holding my hands "we'd be in so much trouble if he found us out here together, let alone if he found us kissing"

"Or worse" I giggled nuzzling into his chest as his shoulder was to high now we where stood up

"I don't think there's anything worse girly" he says

"Uhhhh.... Newt what about you know... Other stuff" I smirk and he looked down at me very puzzled so I moved my hips against his feeling that he already had a semi awww that's adorable little newtie getting half hard from our kisses

"Ooohh! That stuff!" He said his voice cracking as he did

"Did you not want to?" I ask

"Are you bloody joking girly, I've been locked up in a maze of only boys for two years of course I want to!" He says "I'd love to" he says making me giggle "but...how? Where? I mean, it's not like the box gives us condom's or anything like that" he says "and I mean where, we can't in the glade for obvious reasons, albys found our snuggle spot out here, and if we did in my hammock the whole glade would see us"

"You've thought alot about this haven't you newt" I laughed

"Well... I Uhhh," he stuttered blushing hard

"Relax newt I know a place" I smiled kissing his cheek "tomorrow night? Meet here and I'll take you" I giggled

"Uhhh okay" he blushed "see you tomorrow girly" he smiled

"Newt you'll see me once we leave the woods" I Laughed

"I know but I can't kiss you or cuddle you or hold you hand, I have to pretend you're not my girlfriend" he explained

"Come on newt before Alby comes looking for us again" I smiled giving him a kiss before went back to the glade

I turned over again, I couldn't sleep, not sure why I just couldn't as I turned I noticed the familiar blonde boy so I smiled hopping out my Hammock and gently going over to his giving him a poke

"Ughh what?" He complained sleepily

"It's me" I smiled "I can't sleep, can I sleep with you?" I whispered

"Alright, just be out before Alby wakes up" he says moving his covers a little so I climbed in beside him and nuzzled close.to his warm soft body as he tucked the covers around me I giggled giving his nose a little kiss and he smiled and kissed my lips "come on legs get some sleep" he says wrapping his arms around me tightly as we gently fell asleep.

P2?

[thereluctantinquisitor]

New year prompts, 3 for Dorlen? :)

3. Person A and B are strangers and fight over the last bottle of champagne at the store. 

Pavellan. Dorian Pavus x Varlen Lavellan (modern AU). Approx 1800 words, most under the cut

Varlen hated New Year’s Eve. Not because it meant that thelast year, which had inevitably been crappy, was drawing to a close, but becauseit meant he was expected to start all over again. Get some resolutions. Puthimself out there. Meet people. Now,trudging down the aisle of the bottle shop in his sweatpants, all Varlen wanted to do was buy the mostexpensive bottle of champagne he could find, go home, and drink it through afunnel.

He sniffed, reaching up to rub his nose as he considered hisNew Year’s Eve plan. It had already been partially ruined the moment he steppedinto the store. Varlen had asked one of the staff where they kept their bestchampagne, but of course, it was eleven-thirty at night and they were all sold out. All that was left wascheap swill, and while Varlen supposed it was more fiscally responsible, it wasalso depressing.

Maybe I should justadd soda water to wine while I’m at it, he thought miserably as he arrivedat the correct aisle. Really lean intothe whole ‘alone on New Year’s Eve’ aesthetic.

Lost to his own dark musings, Varlen barely bothered toregister the naked shelves, already cleaned out by more discerning drinkers inthe earlier hours of the evening. But as he trudged, he did spot a lone bottle,standing proudly on the top shelf like a soldier who had survived the carnageof war. Joy. Moving towards it,Varlen squinted, attempted to make out the label. It was some strawberry-flavouredabomination, but he supposed it was better than nothing.

However, as he reached out and his hand closed around it, sodid someone else’s.

Varlen started, but did not release the bottle, insteadopting to clutch it tighter. He’d grabbed it around the body, while hisopponent had managed to snag it around the base of its long neck. Livid, Varlenfollowed the line of the stranger’s arm until he reached the source of hisirritation.

“Hey. Back off, I saw it first!”

The man, whose face had initially been one of surprise,furrowed his brow almost immediately, the expression darkening his handsomefeatures. “Oh I rather doubt that. Besides, I had it first.”

“Bullshit.” Varlen attempted to tug the bottle – carefully –but the man refused to let go. Inside, he felt his gut twist, bitter and frustrated.Just this one thing. I just wanted thisone fucking thing. Varlen let out a groan of irritation, reaching up to roughlyrake his free-hand through his hair. “Look, we obviously both grabbed it at thesame time. You didn’t have it first.”

The man gave a thoughtful hum, then Varlen felt somethingwarm wiggle beneath his palm, pressed tight to the bottle. He hadn’t noticedbefore; perhaps he would have if the champagne had not been sadly stewing atroom temperature. Glancing across, Varlen realised it was the stranger’s pinkiefinger, trapped between the palm of Varlen’s hand and the bottle.

Damn it! He really hadgrabbed it first.

The absolute bastard.

“I…” Varlen trailed off. He had lost. But still, he didn’tlet go. He needed this. If he actually did resort to wine and soda water whenthe year rolled over he might just roll himselfright out the window of his fifth-floor apartment. So instead, he looked overto the man, meeting his eyes for the first time. They were a startling palegrey; quartz-like. Brilliant. Feeling oddly warm, Varlen made a show of clearinghis throat. “Listen. I’ll… pay you whatever that bottle costs. Just let me walkout of here with it.”

The offer clearly came as a surprise to the man, and heraised his dark brows, regarding Varlen for a long, silent moment. “A… generousoffer,” he began hesitantly, eyes flicking to the champagne, “particularly forsuch a modest vintage. Although, it does leave me wondering what I might bemissing. Should I accept, that is.”

At that, Varlen let out a dry snort, rolling his eyes. “Nothingto write home about, trust me. There’s probably a reason it’s the only bottleleft. I bet dish-soap would leave a better aftertaste.”

The man chuckled, nodding in agreement. Clearly his mind hadarrived at a similar conclusion. But damn,he had a wonderful laugh. “Indeed. Tell me then; why the offer?”

Why offer to paydouble for something probably worth half its ticket price? It was a goodquestion, Varlen supposed. He hesitated, however, tongue absently sweepingacross his lower lip. This man was a complete stranger. He owed him nothing.

But then again, this man was a complete stranger.

So what did it matter if he toldhim everything?

“Just… figured it was the thing to do,” Varlen mumbled afteran extended, surprisingly uninterrupted pause. “Y’know. Because it’s New Year’sEve. You’re meant to celebrate, right?” He hesitated, but the man neither spokenor released the bottle. “I’ve… screwed up plenty of stuff this year already. Iguess I just… didn’t want to start the next one wrong too.” A dry laugh bubbledup the back of Varlen’s throat. “Figured I could at least get this right. But look at me now. Pouringmy heart out to some random guy in the bottle shop, fighting to pay ten dollarsfor a five dollar bottle of flavoured champagne.”

“Sparkling wine,actually,” the man corrected, reading the label of the bottle from betweenVarlen’s fingers, but the comment didn’t strike Varlen as mean-spirited. Ifanything, there was something akin to solidarity in it, and they both shared a bleaklyamused look. “Well… to be perfectly frank, this entire situation strikes me assomething of a failure for both of us. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Varlen winced at that, but couldn’t deny it. So he nodded,then let out a sigh, his grip loosening on the bottle. “Yeah. You’ve got apoint.” He started to let it go. “Sorry for… all of this. You’ve probably gotsomewhere to be.” Lucky him.

“Actually… I don’t.” To Varlen’s surprise, he felt thebottle being pushed back against the palm of his hand, and when Varlen’sfingers closed around it once more, the other man released it, a faint smiletinging his lips. I normally don’t likemoustaches. But I really like his. “As much as I would, ah, enjoy choking down that poison inpreface to another year of lost causes, I simply cannot bring myself to rob youof the pleasure.”

They both laughed at that, softly and a little shamefully,the way one laughs in a library when reading the back covers of D-grade romancenovels. But they held each other’s gaze through the moment, Varlen’s smilewidening in gratitude as he slid the bottle from the shelf and held it. His cheapskate trophy. Then, slowly, hedrew his lower lip between his teeth, pulling on it thoughtfully as he regardedthe sparkling wine in his hand.

“Would you…uh… like to suffer with me?”

The other man raised his brows, a distinctly amused gleam inhis eyes. “I must admit, I have been asked out many times, but never quite so honestly.”

“I’m an honest guy,” Varlen replied with a chuckle, thenwaved the bottle in the air; a mockery of enticement. “C’mon, what do you say?It’s eleven-thirty, and I live nearby. If we walk at a moderate pace, we mightjust make it in time to stare at the clock for fifteen minutes.”

The man barked a laugh and regarded the bottle, then Varlen.It took him the whole of three seconds to make his decision. “Very well, then!Consider myself persuaded. After all,I am never one to turn down a free drink in a questionable neighbourhood.” Hesmiled to show he meant to offense, then reached out, plucking the bottle fromVarlen’s grasp before he could even think to protest. “But if you are to host,then I will bring the poison. A fairtrade, yes?”

“Sure, I won’t argue with that.” Varlen shook his head,smiling as he fell into step beside the man, heading for the register. “Oh,right. I’m Varlen, by the way.”

“Dorian. A pleasure.” He glanced across, smirking slightlyas he raised the bottle. “I would shake your hand, but I fear mine are somewhatoccupied with precious cargo.” He paused when Varlen gave a dismissive wave – no harm done - then added, “I have tosay… this has been quite the unexpected turn of events.”

Well, no one was arguing that. “Yeah. Tell me about it. HereI thought I’d spend New Year’s drowning my sorrows and passing out on thebathroom floor. Now… well, looks like I’m going to have company doing it.”

“Do remind me to toast to that,” Dorian said as he paid forthe bottle, handing over a rumpled five to the miserable looking cashier… thenadding another as a token of sympathy. With their prize nestled safely in theembrace of a paper bag, Dorian turned and nodded towards the street. “Well, Varlen…lead the way.”

Smiling, Varlen gave a mock-bow and moved forward, the belldinging as he pushed open the door and held it for his new friend. “I hope you’reready for this,” Varlen said as Dorian moved past with a hum of thanks. “Youdon’t really strike me as the type to indulge in strawberry flavoured sparkling wine. No offense. Your shoes are waytoo expensive for that.”

“Come now, how else to you think I was able to afford them?”Dorian chuckled as Varlen grinned and began leading them back to his apartment.“Life is entirely made of compromises, I am afraid. But not to fear – you alreadygave me the perfect solution, should the taste be as terrible as promised.”

Varlen cocked his head, brow furrowing slightly. “I did?”

Dorian nodded. “Yes.” Then he smiled, his white teethflashing playfully against his dark skin. “I will simply chase it with dish-soap.”

Varlen let out a long, horrified groan. “Disgusting. Terrible.” Then he, too, succumbed to agrin. “I love it.”

They walked for a time, conversing with surprising ease,casting baleful looks at drunk revellers staggering down the road to their destinationsof choice for the big countdown. Eventually, they came to Varlen’s building; anarrow thing nestled meekly between two far nicer ones. Fishing his keys out ofhis coat pocket, Varlen headed up the stairs, Dorian close behind – almost nervouslyso. The jingling of keys and rustling of their paper liquor-bag provided theonly form of distraction from the sounds of dull music and carousing thatdrifted from the buildings nearby. But, for the first time, Varlen wasn’tenvious of everyone else. He glanced back and was greeted by a smile fromDorian, who raised the paper bag and wiggled it in mock-seduction.

Maybe this wouldn’t besuch a bad night after all…

[boop-bri]

Blind Date

Written by: Admin Hobicat

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Word Count: 2,848

Genre: Maybe Fluff? I Honestly Don’t Know Lol

Not Requested

AN: An old Yoongi fic I did just for the hell of it. I tried to edit it to not suck so bad, but if it still sucks oh well I tried lmao. I’m only putting it up to get rid of the fics I already have written before I upload new ones i’ve written. Hope you enjoy it.

Blind dates. I never liked them. They’re awkward, sometimes boring and you can meet some major weirdos. All in all blind dates are terrible yet here I am standing in front of this random guys house. Staring down at my phone with the address he texted me I suddenly wanted to turn around and just pretend I was sick. My friend set me up with some guy named Yoongi, but apparently he liked to be called Suga. What kind of nickname is that? Normally I wouldn’t say this about my best friend but she’s horrible. Setting me up with this guy because she felt like I needed to get back out there.

According to my best friend he’s perfect for me. Like she hadn’t said that for all the other guys she tried to set me up with. It’s not like I need a guy anyway. I’m perfectly fine binge watching Netflix and eating pizza all by myself. Just because she’s ‘found the one’ doesn’t mean I have to find a guy too, but oh well might as well give it a shot. What’s the worst thing that can happen?

Taking a deep breath I knock on the door. A few minutes go by before the door finally opens and let me tell you in that moment I think I died. Literally I think I saw the light and everything. He couldn’t be real there’s just no way. There Yoongi stood in all his handsome glory covered in sauce and a spoon in his hand. Even covered in food he managed to look good. We stood there for a few seconds just staring at each other.

“Um you want to come in?” God even his voice is perfect.

I opened my mouth to answer him but no words came out. Nodding my head I looked down suddenly feeling extremely shy. I saw him move to the side and stepped through the doorway. He closed the door behind me and silence fell between us again. What words do you even say to someone like him?

Instead of talking he began walking into the kitchen and I followed behind him. Looking up I gasped and covered my mouth at the sight. Did a soccer team come through here? What happened?! Everything has food over it and I mean everything. From the fridge to the floor to the cabinets there was sauce. It honestly looked like a science experiment gone wrong. That’s when I began to worry.

“Sorry about the mess. I was cleaning it up when you showed up. I didn’t expect you to come early.” Suga looked away while scratching the back of his neck.

Even that small action was attractive. Curse him and his perfectness. I shook my head and sighed. Even though the kitchen was a mess I could tell that he tried, if the pot of sauce bowling over was anything to go by. I smiled a little, grabbed the mop leaning on the wall and began mopping.

“It’s okay. I should have came later. It’s just a bad habit of mine to be early or on time. Why don’t you go get cleaned up and I’ll straighten this mess up.” I said while continuing to mop.

I was already nearly halfway done with the floor when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Tensing up a little I turned my head to look at Suga. My heart fluttered and I’m sure I was bright red. The smile on his face made my knees wobble and my stomach clench. How could a simple smile make me wanna cry?

“Thank you so much. I know this isn’t how you pictured the date going, but I promise I’ll fix it anyway I can. I won’t take too long so you won’t have to clean all this up by yourself.” With that he left.

It took me way too long to get back to normal. I had to pinch myself just to snap out of the daze I was in. All he did was smile at me and touch much my shoulder why am I freaking out so much. Okay (Y/N) calm down. You haven’t been on a date in almost a year that’s the only reason. With that thought in mind I began cleaning again. Time went by and I nearly had everything clean. All that was left was the pot that boiled over. Feeling quite proud of myself I began to pat my back.

“Wow I can’t believe you’re almost done. It would have taken me forever to clean all this up. I feel bad you cleaned all this up by yourself though. How about I order some pizza and we just watch a movie? You can pick the movie.” Turning to face Suga I nearly groaned at the sight of him.

His black hair looked slightly damp, the blue highlights in his hair seemed to look brighter than before, and the plain white tee he wore hugged his body. He sheepishly placed his hand at the back of his neck and rubbed it. There he goes again touching his neck. This man is going to be the death of me.

“It’s okay. I’m use to cleaning for others. I share a dorm with three other people who aren’t the best at cleaning. I pretty much cook and clean all the time. Pizza and a movie sounds like a great idea.”

“That explains why it didn’t take you long. I don’t clean often. Way too lazy for that if I’m being honest.” Suga chuckled a little and took his phone out of his pocket probably to call Pizza Hut.

Turning back to face the stove I moved the pot to the sink, poured some soap in and turned the water on. While the water ran I wiped up the sauce off the stove and turned the water off just as it was about to overflow in the pot.

“What kind of pizza do you like?”

“Cheese.”

“Really? Just cheese? Isn’t that a little boring?” The teasing tone of his voice for some reason slightly irritated me. Turning around to face him I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms.

“What do you have against cheese pizza?” I asked while raising my eyebrow. Suga smirked and shook his head.

“Nothing just think it’s a little boring is all.”

“Well for your information cheese pizza may be ‘boring’ but it’s delicious.” Suga shrugged, a smirk on his face, and went back to ordering the pizza.

Since the kitchen was all clean I decided to go into the living room. It was pretty cozy looking. A plain black and red color scheme with splashes of other colors thrown about to make it not so plain. I plopped down on the couch and sighed. This had to be the most comfortable couch I’ve ever sat in. It seemed to mold to my body the longer I sat. Picking up the remote off the coffee table I started scrolling through the guide, looking for something interesting to watch.

“Well the pizza will be here in about twenty minutes. Did you find something to watch?” I shook my head and kept scrolling. A few minutes went by before I gave up.

“Why is there never anything to watch on TV?” Mumbling to myself I frowned and leaned back into the couch.

“Well why don’t we check Netflix. I go on there pretty often when I’m not working on my music.” Yoongi said while sitting down on the other end of the couch. I perked up at the mention of Netflix before I realized what he said.

“You make music?” Genuinely curious I turned to look at Yoongi. He nodded and smiled a little. His eyes seemed to light up at the mention of music.

“I make hip hop music. I compose my own music and write my own lyrics. My dream is to be a famous rapper one day. For everyone to hear my music.”

The more he talked about it the bigger his smile grew till his gums showed. It wasn’t long before I found myself smiling along with him. Anyone could tell that he’s incredibly passionate about his music. Seeing him like this, gummy smile and bright eyes, made my heart flutter while butterflies filled my stomach.

“Maybe I could hear one of your songs one day?” He nodded before turning back to the TV and turning in Netflix. Time seemed to fly by kind of quickly. Before I knew it we had picked a movie and the pizza man showed up.

“Are you sure you don’t want to watch something else?” This had to be the third time he’s asked me this same question. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes yet again.

“For the third time, yes I am sure I want to watch this. Do you want to watch it? I can handle scary movies. It’s okay if you can’t I won’t hold it against you.” He scoffed, muttering under his breath, and pressed play.

We were halfway through the movie and nothing scary had happened at all. This movie was turning out to be really boring. Seeing as the movie was incredibly boring I decided to watch something, or should I say someone, more interesting. Every now and then I would steal glances at Yoongi while eating his pizza. He is literally a sight to behold. He even made eating pizza look hot. Bless my best friend for setting this up. I so owe her. Except for having to clean up his mess earlier the date is going pretty smoothly.

Oh my fuck. Yoongi licked his lips and smirked. Let me just say that was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. All I wanted to do in that moment was kiss him. My body felt on fire at the thought of his lips on mine. It was like a burning need began to rage within me. Squeezing my hand into fists I looked away from him to try and regain some sort of control. If I looked at him any longer who knows what thoughts would swirl through my mind.

I turned my gaze back onto the tv and gasped. The leading lady had just been sawed in half. I clearly missed a lot. A couple more minutes went by and off went the movie. I can’t believe I spent most of the movie just staring at him.

“Its safe to say that movie was boring. Pretty funny though, but terrible. Besides it was hard to focus on the movie with you staring at me.” Fuck he noticed. I blushed and looked down at my lap.

“Sorry.” I muttered and tucked some hair behind my ear.

“Its okay. I was staring at you too.” My breath caught in my throat and I froze. Did I just hear him right? No he must have said something else.

“You’re really beautiful by the way. I didn’t get a chance to tell you that earlier so I figured now would be a good time to say it.” My eyes widened as Suga moved closer to me.

He placed his hand on my thigh and rubbed it a little. I just kept quiet, surprised at how forward he was being. When I didn’t say anything back to him he slowly moved his hand off my thigh and moved back to his original spot. My shyness would choose now of all times to make an appearance.

“It’s getting pretty late. You should probably be getting home now. Its not safe to be leaving so late.” Ouch. Why did it feel like he was trying to get rid of me?

“Yeah you’re probably right. I have to get up early so I guess I’ll be going.”

I stood up, made my way towards the door and slipped my shoes on. My heart hurt a little at how cold he seemed to be all of a sudden. What happened to the Yoongi that was smiling and teasing me? I opened the door and frowned. Rage suddenly filled me.

“I know this was probably a hassle for you. Having to spend your money on me. You probably expected something else to happen. Well sorry I’m not that easy. If that’s what you’re looking for then go to a club or something. This was a complete waste of time.”

Just as I was about to walk out the door a pair of hands grabbed my arm and pulled me back in. The door closed behind me and everything seemed to happen pretty fast after that. I hadn’t even realized that I closed my eyes until I felt Yoongi press his body against mine.

My eyes snapped open and widened. He was so close, too close. His lips were so close to mine all I had to do as lean forward and our lips would touch.

“When my friend told me he was setting me up on a blind date with his girlfriends best friend I was completely against it. Blind dates are stupid and just bad in general, but the moment I saw you I was glad I didn’t cancel like I planned on.” My heart was beating a mile a minute. He leaned closer to me, his breath tickling my ear and driving me crazy at the same time.

“Just so you know I don’t regret buying you pizza or think you’re easy. In fact I think you’re incredibly adorable. Especially when you would glance at me like you thought I wouldn’t notice. Every time you would look at me and bite your lip I had to keep myself from kissing you. I figured that would be moving too fast.” He stopped talking for a second to place his hands on either side of my head. As he stared down at me with that smirk on his face I could feel myself getting weaker.

“I never thought this night was a waste of time by the way. I don’t know about you but I really enjoyed myself.” I realized that he probably expected me to say something to him but in all honestly I could barely think straight with him so close to me. Taking a deep breath I pulled the strength from deep inside of me and opened my mouth to speak him.

“I was having fun but you suddenly acted cold and I didn’t know what I did wrong.” Suga frowned and placed his left hand on my cheek.

“I do that sometimes. It’s a bad habit. Probably why I can’t keep a girlfriend but I promise you that you did nothing wrong.”

“Really?”

“Really. I know I said that I didn’t want to move too fast but I really want to kiss you right now. If that’s okay with you.” Aww he’s asking for my permission. Can he get any better?

Nodding my head I felt my eyes close as I waited for him to kiss me. It didn’t take him long before his lips were placed on mine. At first it was just a small peck then it escalated to a gentle kiss and ended up being passionate. Our lips moved in sync, bodies pressed together and tongues battling for dominance. In the end Yoongi won.

His tongue ran over mine and explored every inch of my mouth. I couldn’t help but moan into the kiss as his hands roamed my body. My hands gripped and pulled at his hair causing him to let out a soft moan. I take back what I said about him licking his lips being the sexiest thing ever. His moan took first place. We stood there, making out for awhile before we had to pull away for air. Both of us were breathing heavy and if the dark look in Yoongis eyes were anything to go by he didn’t want to stop. Hell neither did I, but I knew and he knew that we should before things went too far.

Moving away from me he smiled his wife gummy smile that warmed my heart. My legs already felt like jello from that make out session, but his smile was making it even harder to stand on my own. He seemed notice and pulled me to him. His arms wrapped around me while his chin laid on my head.

“I know you have to go now but I would love to take you on another date. There’s this new restaurant that opened a month ago that I would love to take you to. If you want to that is.” I don’t think I’ve ever smiled bigger than in that moment.

“I would love to.” Yoongi kissed the top of my head and pulled away to smile down at me.

“Good. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Of course. See you later.” Opening the door I turned to hug him one last time and out the door I went. He watched me walk all the way to my car, get in and drive off before he closed the door. Maybe blind dates aren’t so bad after all.