#it Is friday which are normally my Worst Days but hey. last friday was okay so. let's get it.

[slashpaws]

good morning here's to another good day

[leaentries]

Bad day

luke hughes x chubby!reader

a/n- hey y’all! so guess who’s not dead 😋 i’m so so sorry i’ve been so inactive this past month! i’ve been dealing with college starting back up and my new job. but now that i’m back to semi-normal schedule, im hoping to start posting more! so please don’t be afraid to send in any thoughts or requests you may have! also, im so sorry if this is shit, i didn’t really know where i was going when i started writing. i just wanted to get something out for y’all to read😭

p.s- gif is not mine, credits to the owner!!

some days truly never seemed to end.

even though it was only a wednesday, the bleakness of the sky and air ruined every seemingly good thing coming y/n’s way. her day started off great. waking up next to her boyfriend who gave her plenty of good morning sleepy kisses and “i love you’s.” luke even went the extra mile and warmed up her morning shower, paired with a fresh towel straight out of the dryer.

as she stepped into the shower, she felt confident that she was going to have a fantastic day. her classes were easy on wednesday and only lasted till early afternoon. although she knew that luke would be gone for practice by the time she returned home, she was excited to lounge around and be lazy for the day.

only, her day took a turn for the worst.

walking to her first class of the day, the coffee she held in her hand, that luke put so much effort into, somehow managed to slip from her grasp. the cup went tumbling into the pavement, leaving ugly light brown splotches in its wake. frustrated, she picked up the soaked cardboard.

y/n took a deep breath and quickly disposed of the cup, before continuing her journey to class. even though she felt bad for wasting the coffee, she was still set on having a great day. her class went by decently fast, ending when the professor decided to go on a tangent about his recent disk golf tournament.

on wednesdays she only had two classes, her next one being the longest. sitting down for her next lecture, she noticed the thigh portion of her jeans had begun to rip. y/n couldn’t help the feeling of dread that filled her body. those were her favorite jeans and the store in which she bought them, had discontinued this style.

sighing, she placed her head down on her arms. she decided to close her eyes, since she got to class early anyways. what seemed to be a few seconds, quickly turned into her feeling a jab to her side. she lifted her head, eyes squinting due to the bright lights. she looked over to her desk partner. julie looked back with concerned eyes.

“dude, are you okay?”

puzzled, y/n replied, “yeah….why?”

“you just slept through the entire lecture. which, by the way, prof decided to assign some stupid essay on. he said it’s gonna be due friday.”

with wide eyes, y/n stared at the clock on the wall.

i slept through the whole thing?

hitting her like a train, she turned back to julie.

“wait wait wait. an essay? shit, i don’t even know what he talked about today.”

worry gripped her like a vice. how the hell was she ever gonna get an essay done about a lecture she didn’t even listen to? there goes her plan on being lazy for the rest of the day.

“don’t worry, i got you girl. i made sure to take some major notes for you.” julie handed y/n the purple notebook, “just make sure to bring it to class on friday.” with that, julie gathered her things and left the classroom.

still stuck on the fact that she slept through the entire lecture, y/n slowly began to pack up and make her way home. rushing to her car, she made the drive as fast as possible.

not to her surprise, she was greeted with an empty apartment. she would normally be a little sad at this, but she took it with grace. the quiet will give her time to go over julie’s notes and start her essay.

❥.

by the time luke found his way through the door, it was easily past six.

“angel?” luke called into the open apartment. “y/n?” he called again. when he still received no response he walked to their shared bedroom, only to find her hunched over a desk with headphones in her ears.

he walked up to stand behind her, gently placing his hands on her shoulders and a kiss to the top of her head. her body jumped slightly, startled at the sudden touch.

“what the fuck, lukey?” she turned to him.

“awww, im sorry baby.” luke responded, chuckling slightly.

though his smile began to fall from his face when he saw the deep line of worry and distress around her eyebrows. luke felt his own furrow.

“what’s wrong, angel?” luke felt his own worry begin to set in. he could have sworn she was in a great mood this morning, recalling when she told him her plans for the day.

frustrated tears began to fill her eyes, “today has just utterly been shit. first, i spilt the coffee you spent so much time making me. then, i fell asleep durning my lecture and missed the entire thing. and to top it all off, my professor decided to assign an essay on said lecture. so now i’m having to bullshit this assignment, which means i’ll probably get a horrible grade.”

by the end of her rant, hot tears found their way from her eyes and down her cheeks. luke’s hands quickly reached to wipe them away.

“don’t cry, pretty girl. it’s okay.” luke said in a hushed voice. he swiveled the chair around, crouching to look up at her down casted face. he placed his hands on her plushy thighs, not failing to appreciate the warmth they radiated under his palms.

“hey, hey. look at me, y/n” at the sound of her name, she tilted her head up slightly, meeting his concerned filled eyes.

“you did nothing wrong. that coffee took me all of about 30 seconds to make and i can help you with your essay. i promise you, you are doing great, baby. you’ll do fine on this essay and it sounds to me like you needed the sleep anyways.” his hand reached to cradle her damp, round cheek.

“i’m sorry. i don’t know why i’m upset. it’s not like anything horrible happened. it-it’s just today was supposed to be so good. a-and,” a small sob cut through the air. taking a deep breath she continued, “and i’ve been doing this essay for the past 4 hours. i feel like i’m getting no where.”

luke’s heart hurt at the sight of his girlfriend so drained. it was a complete 180 from the cheerful attitude she had that morning. he slowly stood up, reaching over to close her laptop. she opened her mouth in protest, but was quickly cut off. “before you try and stop me, you need a break, sweetheart. you’ve made plenty of progress on your essay for today. come lay down with me. we can call in some take out and watch a movie.”

luke’s eyes gazed pleadingly into her own.

“but what if i can’t get it finished by tomorrow? it’s due at the beginning of class friday.” luke was fast to ease her worry, “i promise i will help you finish it tomorrow. i don’t have practice, so we can spend the whole day making this essay a+ material. now, go change and meet me in the living room.”

with a smile and another kiss to her head, luke walked out of the bedroom. attempting to brush off the last thoughts of her essay, y/n got up and walked to the closet. she grabbed a pair of sweats and one of luke’s big sweatshirts. putting it on reminded her of how thoughtful he is, always making sure to get them a size bigger so they’ll be extra oversized.

she smiled as the scent of his cologne filled her nose.

now completely changed, she walked out, only to be met with what seemed to be every blanket in the house set up on the couch. next to it laid plenty of her favorite snacks, along with her favorite drinks. with wide eyes, she turned to meet luke’s nervous form.

“w-what’s all this?” she gestured toward the couch. luke walked up to her, placing his hands on her full hips.

“i just wanted to do something for you, make your day a bit better. do you like it?” luke’s eyes were hopeful.

“of course, i love it.” she looked up at luke’s face, “thank you. for everything.” luke flashed his beaming grin.

“anything for you, angel,” he whispered. luke leaned down to press his lips into her soft ones. his hands pulled her hips to meet his, deepening the kiss. y/n found her own hands finding home in the curls on the nape of his neck. she gripped his hair, slightly pulling at the intensity. luke’s light groans filled the apartment.

forcing themselves apart, y/n placed her hands on luke’s shoulders as he tried to chase her lips. a whine escaped his throat, “whyyy? i want to kiss you.” a laugh bubbled out of her mouth, bringing a smile to luke’s face.

“as much as i would love to keep kissing you, i want to go lay down. and that movie isn’t going to watch itself.” with this, luke took liberty of going to lay across the couch first, opening his arms to welcome y/n into them. she didn’t hesitate to find comfort in his arms, laying her head on his chest.

luke grabbed one of the many blankets, covering them both. he placed his chin on the top of her head, grabbing the remote lying next to him.

“alright angel, what do you want to watch?”

[kaunis-sielu]

Sick: 6

You’ve been bouncing ideas for a cure off of one another all night. Even while you, Nat and Yelena dig through the dark web to try and see if anyone has posted anything bragging about making this virus, you need to occupy your brain as much as possible. If you don’t you’re afraid you’re going to go into a panic spiral about Steve.

None of the guys are any better, but none are any worse either. Sam’s temperature had spiked for a couple hours but has since dropped back to normal. You have FRIDAY monitoring the rest of the guys to make sure that their temperatures stay down too. Carol had flown Scott in, in his shrunk down suit since it was the easiest and fastest way to get him here. It seems the virus had started on the east coast and was now infecting other big cities. Chicago, Minneapolis, LA, Atlanta and Milwaukee.

You don’t sleep for two days no one seems to notice so you just keep working, keep going, you’re not going to stop until you figure this out. You miss your brothers and you miss Steve, god it’s like you’re missing part of your body.

“Hey.” Wanda says softly drawing your attention from the screen you’ve been staring at. “When did you last sleep?”

“I’m fine.”

“Nox, you cannot lie to me.” She says softly, “you need to sleep.”

“I will when we have a cure.”

“You could sleep next to him. He wouldn’t want you to kill yourself looking for a cure.”

“I’m fine.”

“Please don’t make me force you.” She says softly and you glare over at her. You may not be the best fighter but you can hold your own against Wanda if she plays fair. You have a feeling she won’t be playing fair.

“Fine. Just a few hours.”

“Would you like my help?” You sigh heavily before responding,

“Yes please.” You head back to the room where the guys are, they’re all hooked up and all still unconscious. You gently touch the foot of each man as you pass them, making sure they’re still doing okay, easing any pain.

If physically hurts you to see him like this. It’s like he’s been frozen in the ice again and it breaks your heart.

You climb up onto the bed with him, careful not to pull out any of the things that are monitoring him. Once you’re settled Wanda gently touches your shoulder and you fall into a deep sleep.

You’ll never admit it but when you wake up several hours later you feel almost normal. You kiss Steve on the cheek then gently climb back out of bed. You check on the other guys then wander out of the room to find your friends.

You’re half way down the hallway when a hand reaches out of the lab and grabs your arm. Helen pulls you into the lab “You can’t ask me how I know this or why. You just have to trust that I do.” Helen says wringing her hands, her gaze is darting around the room.

“Uh, okay.” You agree hesitantly.

“I know who made the virus.”

“Who made it?”

“Yea.”

“Okay?”

“Which means I might know how we can stop it. But she’s not going to be easy to find.”

“Who?”

“Dr. Deidre Wentworth. We were roommates in college. She’s part of this group, they call themselves the Femizons. She runs the group and hates men.” Things are starting to fall into place.

“Do you know where to find them?”

“No, but Natasha will.” You nod and turn to leave when she stops you, “Nox?” She says softly and you look over your shoulder at her. “Just please don’t judge me.”

“Is there more Helen?”

“I- No. She wasn’t always like this.” You nod then head out of the room and back to where you’d last seen Natasha.

“Nat? Nat! Are you in here?” Of course she’s not in the room, you turn on your heel and sprint out of the room before stopping suddenly. FRIDAY. “FRIDAY! Where’s Natasha?”

“In the gym Miss.”

“Thank you!” You call before you start to run again. When you burst into the gym Nat freezes, horror is etched onto her face.

“No, nothing, nothing, bad.” You pant and her face relaxes. “Have a, lead.”

“What? How?” She asks excitedly, you gulp down a few more deep breaths and then tell her everything that Helen told you.

“The Femizons are the worst. Because their message is so twisted. They believe in female power and being badass and shit but they also hate men and think they’re superior to them.” She says with a huff, “like I want to support some of their shit but they’re just too extreme and also they wouldn’t have me.”

“Why wouldn’t they have you?”

“Um I kinda beat the shit out of Black Lotus, one of the members. They tried to kidnap me and it didn’t end well for them.” She says with a little shrug and you blink at her in surprise. One of the things you’ve always loved about Natasha is how straightforward she is.

“Helen said you would know where to find them.”

“I know where to start looking.” She says wiping her forehead with a towel. “How are you doing?”

“Feeling more optimistic now that we have a lead.”

“How did Helen figure this one out?”

“I don’t know. She said not to ask how or why she knew but to trust that she did. And I trust her.” Natasha looks thoughtful, “what?”

“I don’t like it but it can slide for now. We have more pressing issues. Finding Femizons is first.” She tells you as the two of you make your way back to the war room.

“We should start looking down south. Usually that’s where they hang out.”

“Okay, what exactly am I looking for?” You ask as you drop into a chair and get comfortable with your laptop on your lap.

“They tend to live in smaller towns, several women together. Not super isolated but isolated enough where they can do shit they don’t want people to know about. Be prepared, this could take a while.”

“Someplace like this?” You ask flipping the computer around to show her.

“Wait, what the hell? How did you find this so fast?”

“I just googled feminist communes.” You tell her with a shrug and she shakes her head in astonishment. “This is them right?” She comes over and looks at the photo. Natasha doesn’t even need to say anything to confirm that it’s the Femizons, you can see it in her eyes.

“See if you can find any other compounds. I’ll start getting a team and a plan together.” She says, “since apparently you’re really good at just googling.” You laugh softly but get to work as Natasha leaves the room. You can’t imagine this group is going to be particularly difficult, you’ve got two Black Widows, a Scarlett Witch who Wanda can now control, a woman with literal alien tech in her veins and yourself. While you’re not quite as deadly as Yelena or Natasha you know how to fight, and you know how to weaponize your powers like Wanda. You’ve never been helpless a day in your life.

After an hour of searching the first couple of Avengers have wandered into the space. Hope has been here for almost the whole hour. She’s been fiddling with some tech on her suit and cursing softly occasionally. Wanda, Kamala, Monica, Carol and Jessica came in as a small group about a half hour ago. You know that Nat and Yelena will be here soon and you’ve found two more compounds that you need to search. Pepper wanders in talking to Jean and Rogue, while the Mighty Thor and Storm chat about their ability to harness lightening. Valkyrie, Yelena, Kate, Gamora, Nebula and Jennifer come in as a noisy group but there’s still no Natasha. Sue comes in with Helen, followed by Shuri, Okoye, America and Doreen who makes a beeline for Kamala who looks like she’s going to explode with excitement. You’ve never seen this many female heroes in one room and it’s honestly overwhelming and amazing. Kitty, Jessica Jones, Felicia, Elektra and Nat come in and when Natasha makes her way to the front of the room. As she passes the room slowly quiets.

“I know there are a lot of questions, but let’s get started. Helen.” She says and Helen stands before clearing her throat.

“We know that the strain of this is only effecting men. It’s something to do with the Y chromosome and it is made by a Dr. Deidre Wentworth. She will have made a cure but she’s either going to be withholding it for ransom or she’s just withholding it for fun.”

“Does this look like fun?” Carol asks gesturing to the tv that’s playing the chaos on mute.

“To Deidre? Yes.”

“Deidre hates men.” Natasha says, “she runs the group the Femizons.”

“Fuck.” Carol says and Natasha nods.

“Um, who are the Femizons?” Kamala asks looking between Natasha and Carol.

“They’re a group of women who live in compounds and hate men. They’ve recruited several super powered women. Titania is one of them.” She says and Jen frowns,

“So they have money.” She says and Natasha nods.

“And other super powered women.”

“And smart women. Deidre isn’t exactly moral but she is smart.” Helen chimes in again.

“So we’re going to need a good plan.” Hope says and Natasha nods.

“How many locations are we looking at?”

“Potentially three.” You say, “FRIDAY share my screen.”

Tag list:

@foxyjwls007 @andahugaroundtheneck @also-fangirlinsweden @pagina16ps @princesssterek @valsworldofcreativity @dumblani @inkedaztec @loving-life-my-way @animegirlgeeky @shinycupcakebaker @eralen @sophham @gh0stgurl @killcomet @wonderlandfandomkingdom @abschaffer2 @capsiclesdoll @patzammit @sass-masterkittenmama @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

[sibillascribbles08]

46. “I’m with you, for better or for worse.” “It’ll probably be worse.” “I know.”

Can you believe my laptop made me write half of this TWICE??

Anyway CW: Brief discussions of an eating disorder

Donatello had seen Jase on bad days before.

High strung, frustrated, jumpy, quick to snap. Usually when it happened Jase would just leave, or tell Donatello to go home, depending. “You don’t need to be around for this,” he would say. 

Donatello wanted to argue with that, wanted to help, but decided to respect his need for space. Typically things went back to normal the next day anyway after a quick apology text. 

But this lasted for almost a week. 

Donatello sent multiple texts, all of them went ignored. It made him so worried he felt sick. Should he go over and check on him? Last time he tried that—over something much less serious—it’d resulted in an argument. 

“Do you think it’d be weird if I peeked in his window and spied on him?” Donatello mumbled to his siblings as he stared at his phone.

All of them looked up at him, but Mikey replied first.

“Yeah that’s weird, D.” 

“But I’m so worried.”

“Then at least knock on his window and let him know you’re there!” 

Sure. Fine. What was the worst that could happen? Jase would open the window and scream at him to get lost and then never talk to him again?

Ugh.

They’d only been dating for a month and a half. He didn’t want to screw things up already. 

Still, Donatello took the risk and headed over to Jase’s house—making sure his dad wasn’t there—and climbed up to his bedroom window.

For a minute, he wondered if Jase was even home. But after a few glances around the room he finally recognized his boyfriend curled up in the sheets of his bed. Was he asleep?

Donatello knocked on the window.

Jase rolled over, revealing his face as he squinted at the window. It took him a few seconds to figure out what he was even looking at, after which he visibly sighed. 

As he approached the window, Donatello studied him. Messy hair, circles under his eyes, and looking a bit pale. Was he sick? 

The window opened and Jase stared at him, still squinting. “Donnie? Please tell me that’s you and not something else dressed in green and purple.”

“It’s me.” Donatello ignored the urge to reach out and touch his face. “Um… are you okay?”

Jase blinked. “Fine.”

“Well…” Donatello tapped his hands along the windowsill. “Forgive me for doubting you, but you don’t exactly look fine.” 

Another sigh. “Look, Donnie, I told you a couple of days ago—”

“Jase. It’s almost been a week.” 

That made his boyfriend blink, eyes going wide. “Shit.” He darted back into his room, obviously looking for something. Perhaps his phone, or his glasses. Hopefully the latter, as it would make everything else much easier.

Donatello took the opportunity to climb into the room, sliding through the window and catching himself on the floor to tug his legs inside. 

Jase was still looking around, clearly growing more anxious by the second as he ran his hands through his hair, tugging on the ends.

Donatello found the glasses on the back corner of the nightstand. He unfolded them and stepped over to Jase.

“Hey.” He made sure his boyfriend turned to look at him before sliding them on his face. “That’ll probably make things easier, huh?”

Jase glared at him. “I don’t need your smart ass right now!”

The volume of his voice made Donatello flinch back, but Jase didn’t seem to notice as he went back to his search. He finally found his phone among his bed sheets, glancing at the screen.

“Ugh, damn it. Almost a week? Really?” He flopped onto the bed. “ I haven’t even been sleeping and it hasn't felt like that long.” 

That tossed up a red flag. Donatello shuffled over to the bed, kneeling across from Jase and resting his elbows on the mattress. “You haven’t? Are you sick?” 

“Stupid brain bullshit.” He muttered into the mattress. “I see the Psych on Friday. May need to get my meds changed, or increased, or whatever.” 

Donatello frowned. He still didn’t fully understand the situation, even doing his research. He imagined mental health always sounded so much different on paper than it felt to experience. He’d been learning that since the Kraang invasion. 

“Are you sure I can’t help?” He rested his chin on the mattress now.��

“No, there’s nothing you can do.” Jase still didn’t look at him. “I guess I should have replied to one of your texts, but you’re better off just waiting until I get better.” 

“But what about a distraction?” Donatello scrambled for solutions. “Or if you haven’t been sleeping we could try—” 

Jase pushed himself up before he snapped again. “I don’t want you around!” 

Donatello flinched back again.

Jase’s anger seemed to leave as fast as it arrived and he flopped back onto the sheets. “Sorry. That’s exactly why. When I’m anxious I lash out.” 

“Hah.” Donatello forced a smile. “Sounds like me when I’m stressed.” 

Jase didn’t reply to that. He just reached out for one of his pillows and pulled it close. 

Donatello tapped his fingers together, trying to think of what else he could do. Just then, the silence was interrupted by an odd, low grumble.

Jase curled up even tighter.

“Was that your stomach?” 

“Donnie, can you just leave?”

“Was it?”

“Yeah, probably I…” 

Donatello dared to pull himself up farther on the mattress. “You…?” 

“I… haven’t eaten in a while.” 

Of course. No wonder he looked so tired and so pale. “Well, that won’t do. What would you like? I’ll make something!” He pushed himself up, leaning on the bed. “Or go get something. Dumplings? Sushi? Or—” 

“Donnie.” Jase raised his voice, but only for a second. “Just let it go.”

“I won’t. You need to eat something.”

“Well I don’t want to.” 

“But—”

“Donnie!” Jase snapped once more, but then sniffed as he covered his face with the pillow. “I can’t, okay? I just can’t.” 

Ah. “More brain bullshit?” 

Jase didn’t answer, obviously occupied with muffling his tears with his pillow. Gods, he was probably so tired if he hadn’t been eating or sleeping. 

“Um, what about a smoothie? Or just some water?” Donatello tried one more thing. 

Jase sniffed a few more times before uncovering his face. “I guess drinking some water would be a good idea.” 

“I’ll go get some then.” Donatello was about to head out, but hesitated. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Jase, laying on his side, arms still draped around the pillow. 

Donatello reached down and gently brushed some of the stray strands of hair away from Jase’s eyes. 

“Hey.” He whispered. “I’m with you. For better or for worse.” 

Jase snorted. “It’ll probably be worse.” 

“I know.” Donatello leaned down to kiss the side of his head. “But you agreed to date the most stubborn turtle in the family, so I’m not going anywhere.” 

Tears appeared in his eyes again, so Jase hid in the pillow once more. “Thanks.” 

Donatello hummed and gave him another kiss before heading out of the room to grab a glass of water. 

By the time he got back, Jase had fallen asleep. Donatello left him to it, leaving the water on the nightstand, taking off his glasses, and tossing part of the blanket over him. 

Then he sat on the floor and pulled out his phone.  >Hey Mikey? I need some advice.

[samstree]

for the cliche tropes, 27. Help me I’m being hit on at a bar please be my fake boyfriend for a second with geraskier, if you please <3

Thank you for the prompt! 🌼 Sorry it’s quite late but please enjoy this tiny piece of pining on this fine Friday.

(1.3k, geraskier, slow dancing, drunk jaskier, protective geralt, no warnings.)

“Oh, Geralt! Fancy seeing you here!” Jaskier exclaims, as if they didn’t come to the banquet together.

The bard reaches Geralt’s table and sweeps away his ale in one swift motion before chugging it all down. When he finally puts down the tankard, Geralt finds himself the recipient of the bard’s most charming and yet most performative smile.

Jaskier is nervous.

“Phew!” His hands flail dramatically. “Fine evening, isn’t it?”

Geralt hums, waiting for the catch.

“Let’s dance!”

Without getting a reply, Jaskier is already dragging Geralt up from his seat. With all the wine and ale in his system, Jaskier’s hold is not strong enough to manhandle a bulky witcher, but they end up at the edge of the dance floor anyway.

Jaskier’s warm palms rest flush against Geralt’s waist, and their faces are only a hand’s breadth away. Geralt can feel the heat on the bard’s flushed cheeks and hear the pounding of his heart in the din of the room. They sway to the gentle music.

It’s…close, too close. Geralt needs a distraction.

“What’s the catch, Jask?”

The bard scoffs, almost offended. “Do I require a reason to dance with you? Or am I not allowed to just enjoy quality time with my favorite witcher?”

Geralt simply lifts an eyebrow.

“All right. You are too smart for your own good.” Jaskier chews on his lips, again, nervously. “There is this one gentleman, who may have been too eager for my…company, despite my explaining of the situation.”

“Which is?”

“That I’m in love and thus unavailable?” Jaskier says as if it’s obvious. Geralt frowns with worry.

“Still?” the witcher asks quizzically. “Valdo left nearly a year ago, Jaskier. It isn’t healthy.”

That is the wrong thing to say because Jaskier flinches at the name. Hurt flashes across those cornflower blue eyes, and Jaskier looks too dejected, too similar to how Geralt found him at his worst, in pain and alone and roaring drunk. He never wants to see Jaskier like that again.

“Well, no matter,” Jaskier chuckles tightly. “It’s not like the guy took the hint and left me alone, so I had to improvise. Now, before you give me another lecture or something, you need to know that I had no choice but to—”

“What did you do?” Geralt lets the music and the crowd lead the two of them around the dance floor, careful not to bump into another couple.

The bard regains his balance, looking contrite.

“I may have implied that, um, the person I’m in love with is here tonight.” He pauses before continuing reluctantly. “Or I may have said plainly that he is…a certain witcher.”

“Jaskier…”

“I know. I know! But he was relentless and I couldn’t get away!” he pleads.

“Hmm.”

Geralt’s hands tighten on Jaskier’s shoulders protectively. The bard is too drunk to even keep up with the dance, let alone fight off some unwanted pursuer. In truth, he’s only relieved that he is here with Jaskier, even though the lie is hitting a bit too close to home.

Holding Jaskier like this, swaying with him gently, is once again reminding Geralt of what he isn’t allowed to dream. He no longer dares these days. Not when he’s the one pushing Jaskier away time and time again, not when he’s the one who let Jaskier slip through his fingers and end up with Valdo, not when he’s the one who inadvertently caused Jaskier’s broken heart.

“Oh fuck.” Jaskier hisses, his body tensing. “He’s coming towards us. Okay, act natural! Wait, what is natural if we were together? Oh…um… Just roll with me, will you?”

Before Geralt can reply, Jaskier’s mouth is on his. The kiss is as chaste as it can be—Jaskier is only pecking at his lips gently, never pushing in. Geralt only remembers to close his eyes after a moment, and forces himself to respond as such. To keep up the front, he tells himself, lest the guy is watching.

And he is. Deliberate footsteps are circling the dance floor, not far from them. Geralt concentrate on identifying the man’s heartbeat and his movement—

Jaskier sucks on his lower lip once, twice, before letting go. He buries his face in the crook of Geralt’s neck, his body still taut like a statue.

“Is he gone?”

Warm breaths ghost over the skin of Geralt’s neck and he struggles to open his eyes. The man is not gone. In fact, he’s observing them intently, just shy of stepping into the dance floor himself. Through the moving crowd, Geralt can make out his golden hair and slim shoulders, almost a spitting image of one Valdo Marx, only a little taller.

Geralt hates this man immediately.

Perhaps it’s those too piercing eyes, or the way his presence is making Jaskier nervous like this, or just the look of him. Geralt narrows his eyes dangerously.

“He is not,” Geralt says into Jaskier’s ear, mimicking a lover’s murmur, all the while not breaking eye contact. He’s heard so many times how his yellow eyes are monstrous, and Geralt is thankful for once. It takes some balls to not cower under a witcher’s glare, one that projects predator from afar. This one crumbles within seconds.

With a triumphant smirk, Geralt moves one hand up to cup the nape of Jaskier’s neck, the other one still pressed between his shoulder blades. He’s laying claim. Hopefully, the light can catch a glint of his fangs, but either way, the man is soon running off, tail between his legs.

“Now he’s gone,” Geralt’s voice comes out deeper and rougher. He clears his throat. “Should be out of the gate by this point.”

They are standing impossibly close. The anxious rise and fall of Jaskier’s chest slow to normal and they separate. Geralt misses the contact. He now has a harder time keeping Jaskier steady on his feet. Yes, that’s the sole reason to miss holding Jaskier.

“I—” Jaskier’s gaze is still fixed somewhere far away behind Geralt’s shoulder, oblivious of how reluctantly the witcher is retracting his hands. “Sorry I did that.”

“Hmm. It worked.”

The bard lets out a dry laugh. “Thank the fuck you are here. I wouldn’t have known what to do.”

“You can take care of yourself.”

Geralt only has one hand at Jaskier’s elbow, holding onto him with a featherlight touch. The music has come to an end and the quiet intimacy dissipates.

“Can I?” Jaskier says half-mockingly. “One look at that guy and I could barely breathe, Geralt, and he doesn’t even look that much like Val—him.”

Jaskier bites his lips in contrite, his eyes dimmed. Geralt dips his head to meet Jaskier’s gaze, the ocean blue so lost.

“Hey. I’ll be here if you need me,” he adds way too quickly, almost spluttering. “—to get rid of unwanted attention, that is.”

Jaskier doesn’t seem to notice the awkwardness. Instead, a soft smile stretches across his face. Wordlessly, the bard leans forward to place a small kiss on Geralt’s cheek.

Geralt has to hide the gasp, his eyes wide. He doesn’t know why he’s more affected this time. Is it because it’s real? A voice at the back of his head asks. The last time—even with Jaskier’s lips all over him—was only a show, but this one is full of Jaskier’s heart.

“You are sweet.” Jaskier wipes at the spot with a thumb. “What would I do without you, my friend?”

“Hmm.”

Friend. It’s one little word that Geralt has rejected time and time again, and just when he begins to want for more, he finds himself trapped in the very same word. The irony would be laughable if Geralt is not missing the warmth of Jaskier against him so much.

How the turntables.

Geralt lets Jaskier retreat into the crowd, and if he turns to smell the lingering scent of Jaskier on his shoulder, nobody needs to know.

[scuttle-buttle]

Chapter 10

WC: 1633

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: anxiety, angst, brief fears of infidelity, discussions of childbearing and marriage/gender roles, psych theories, some manipulation, age difference, brief mention of domestic violence (there is none)

A/N: If you have any questions regarding the tags for this chapter and want to ask me about it before reading please do so! The chapter is not necessarily dark but I understand that some may want me to give a more detailed warning/context. I want all my readers to be as comfortable as possible 💙

🧠

It started out small. He would bring up Dr. Stratton during conversation more and more often. Three times now he had been late to office hours, causing you to have to wait outside his room, nervously checking the time. But it’s nothing, you continue to remind yourself. They’re just good friends that haven’t seen each other in years. And you trust them both.

When another Friday night passed with Laszlo skipping drinks in favor of meeting with Karen, you decided to stay in as well. It had been a month since they reacquainted with one another. In those weeks you had seen less of him outside work. Your sex life was stagnating too, much to your annoyance. He had even canceled at the absolute last minute on a dinner date. Naturally, you had begun to feel a twinge of jealousy at his lack of attention. He kept saying it was work related. Nevertheless, the sullen temperament you'd adopted went unnoticed by the doctor. You felt foolish; you weren’t so needy that you had to make a big deal about it. So you said nothing on the issue.

You sat on the old couch in your apartment. Bitsy was getting ready to go out with Lucius for date night. Picking at your fingers, you decide to ask your roommate for advice. “Hey Bits?”

“Yeah?” she called from her bedroom.

“Can I ask you a question about Lucius?” you start.

“Sure, what’s up?”

You pause as you think of how to word your thoughts. “Do you ever, like, get jealous? When he hangs out with other girls I mean.” Her head pops out of the door frame as she finishes fastening her earring, eyebrows raised in question. “It’s just that Laszlo has been spending a lot of time with Dr. Stratton now that she’s back in town. I trust them and everything, but I’m starting to feel a bit left behind I guess…” you trail off.

“Oh honey, that's normal.” She waves a hand through the air as she speaks. “There’s this girl at the lab that Lucius works with and for the first month I was convinced she was trying to steal him away from me. Turns out she just wanted Marcus, his brother!” Bitsy lets out a cackle.

“Right…” you pick at the skin around your fingernails. “I just feel silly about it. I’m sure I’m overreacting to the whole thing, though. Laszlo would never do anything, and I don’t think Dr. Stratton would either,” you remind yourself outloud. "There's just this thing John said to me about them having a past and I can't get it out of my head."

“It's not silly.” Bitsy had moved further into the bedroom, causing her voice to be slightly muffled. “But if it bothers you that much, talk to him about it. He’s a psychologist, it’s kinda his job to understand emotions and things like this. And if he loves you like you say he does then he’ll put a bit more effort into giving you his attention.”

You marinate on what she’s told you. Bitsy is right, if it bothers you that much then you need to bring it up with him. Be an adult, use communication, and all that. “Why’re you always right and level-headed about everything?”

“Someone’s gotta be, with a hot head like you,” she snarks. Her phone buzzes letting her know her date is downstairs. With a squeeze on the shoulder she bids you goodbye, telling you to let her know if you need anything.

_

The atmosphere in Dr. Stratton’s office felt off. What was usually so open and warm had felt forced and awkward. You were still ignoring the guilt of your jealousy at the doctor. She wasn’t as talkative today, unlike usual. Instead, it was strictly business. You chalked it up to her having an off day.

The two of you discussed in more depth the fetishes and kinks from the list you had compiled. Unfortunately, due to spending less time with your boyfriend the last few weeks you hadn’t had much of an opportunity to try any of the new tricks you were learning about. Therefore, you had little to really talk about in that regard. You found that you didn’t particularly mind, as you were feeling less inclined to want to share about your love life due to your envy towards the woman in question.

Dr. Stratton quietly gathered together her notes from the session and placed them into the folder. You were about to ask if she needed anything else from you when her lips parted before closing again. She leaned forward on her desk towards you. Her fingers steepled under her chin.

She licks her lips. “There is something I wish to discuss with you unrelated to the study.”

You didn’t like where this was going. Dread pooled in your gut at the concerned look on her face. “O-okay.”

“Now I want you to understand that I only bring this up out of concern for your wellbeing and emotional health. But some of the things you have told me over the course of this study have me worried.”

What on earth could you have said that would cause this sort of reaction from her? She was the most calm and collected person you had ever known. To have her speaking out made your heart race in your chest.

She takes a moment to gather her thoughts before opening her mouth again. “In truth I worry about your current relationship. I fear that-”

Brows furrowing, your mind goes to the worst conclusion. You blurt out “what? No! He doesn’t hurt me or anything, I don’t know what would have given you that impression but I- ”

The doctor reaches out with her hand to settle on your forearm. “My dear take a breath, I meant no such thing.”

You take a deep inhale to compose yourself. “Then what are you talking about?”

“Speaking as your friend, and as an alienist, I fear that this boyfriend is potentially using you for your youth,” she begins the tale she concocted, unbeknownst to you. “In my experience as a psychologist, the young women such as yourself that I encounter with significantly older male companions find themselves locked into the relationship. Typically, it is from dependence on money at first. Over time, the male pressures the woman to be compliant in things like marriage and childbearing. I understand how difficult it is for a woman as driven as you to balance your aspirations with relationships and domestic matters. Do you want children?”

Her statement and question take you back. Confusion is written all over your face. Marriage? Children? Neither you nor Laszlo had ever brought up either subject. You didn’t even know if it was something he was interested in. “Wait what? I'm not sure I follow…”

“Men around his age go through an identity crisis in which they begin to become aware of their mortality. A change in priorities. The most common desire is to procreate, to start a family in which to pass on their wisdom is strongest here. Are you prepared to give him children soon? Of course there is nothing wrong with wanting to be a mother, it is a very noble role. Yet you do not strike me as someone ready for such a large step.”

You can barely form a coherent thought at her onslaught. The whole conversation was so out of the blue that you felt incredibly lost. Did you want children? Did he want children? Now? You wrap your arms around your torso to stave off the uncertainty and anxiety you feel creeping in. No words come to your defense at her interrogation. You are speechless, jaw dropped.

She stands and crosses the room, placing her cool hands on your cheeks. “My dear you are still a child yourself. This is something you need to consider. To… consider the possibility that you can’t give him what he needs. That he may need someone closer to his age with the same priorities, someone more willing to give in to his needs now. I don’t think you’re ready for that. I’ve seen the cost that these girls face. And the societal pressures and judgement you would face being with someone so much older? I think it could throw you into a state similar to after your friend passed. I wouldn’t want to see you in that position again. I want you to have your freedom."

Dr. Stratton looks up at the clock suddenly; “oh! My, I’m going to be late for a meeting, you’ll have to go. I don’t believe we need any more sessions for the study, but I will let you know if anything changes.”

You are too in shock trying to process everything she said to you as she ushers you out of the door with a “think about what I said, dear.” The door shuts behind you.

Karen sat with a huff. She felt a tad guilty for what she had said to you. She had no idea if Laszlo wanted marriage or children, he hadn’t when they were first together. But times change. She hoped that by using the angle of kids and identity crises that she could subtly plant a seed of doubt in your mind. Strike quickly and overwhelmingly, plant the doubt that you weren’t right for him, then push you out before you have the chance to seek answers or reassurance from her. It seemed you bought her false concern as actual worry. You were a great girl. But you were just that - a girl. You couldn’t give Laszlo what he needed, not like she could.

Now she simply had to wait and let your mind eat away at itself, leaving him for the taking.

Tag list

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams @thatoneartgalsstuff @hb8301 @fandom-princess-forevermore @foggycandywitch @creme-bruhlee @andy-rocks @nonamec0s

[honeypiehotchner]

Looking Too Closely (Bucky x Fem!Stark!Reader) -- part three

I did not expect to get so invested in this damn fic but here I am :))

Summary: The one in which Tony invites you to the “family dinner” but you sleep through it. Also, the “Father Test,” as Tony calls it.

Warnings: angst (what’s new?), talk of food/eating (so sorry, I should’ve tagged this a lot sooner!), medical stuffs (needles, blood being drawn)

A few hours pass by slowly as you doze, floating in between sleep and consciousness, both places completely unsoothing to you.

You wake abruptly when FRIDAY’s voice echoes throughout the room. “Do Not Disturb overridden by Tony Stark.”

With a groan, you sit up, listening to Tony knock — though surprised that he even does.

“Come in,” you sigh.

The door swings open and Tony opens his mouth to speak, but stops when he sees you on the floor. “What…” He glances between you and the bed, giving you an incredulous look. “What’s wrong with the perfectly new bed I gave you?”

“The least of your concerns should be that I’m taking a nap on the floor,” you deadpan. “What do you want?”

“Dinner will be ready in a few,” he says, still looking at you all concerned. “We have a family dinner once a week to...build rapport.”

You raise an eyebrow.

He continues. “You live here now, so...you’re invited. Wanda and Pepper will be there. Bucky, too.” Tony pauses. “Bucky didn’t bother you earlier, did he?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, good.”

“You bothered me, Tony.”

“Right,” Tony nods. “Sorry about that. I shouldn’t have brought that stuff up. I should’ve just been happy that you’re okay.” He pauses again, like he’s having trouble putting all the words together. “I am, by the way. Glad you’re okay. I’m sorry you went through that.”

“Thanks,” you say slowly. “You don’t have to worry about it.”

Tony offers a half-smile, half-grimace, because what you don’t know is that he has FRIDAY currently working on a full, extensive background check on your mom. And you, but your mom is top priority. Ever since the conversation in MedBay earlier, he’s been worried. For your safety — both past, present, and future. But he’s also worried about who you really are — and the worst worry of all is that you might not even know.

“Anyway, dinner in a few,” he says. “Nothing fancy. Come as you are, all that bullshit.”

You snicker at his reference.

He tries not to think of it as too much of a win. “Oh and,” he points to the bed, “it really is new. No one’s slept in it before you. And you can adjust the settings on it — softness, heating, cooling, all that. Just,” he pauses again. “FRIDAY, will you show Y/N the control panel?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark.”

Your eyes widen when a hologram appears next to the bed, projected onto the wall. There, all the settings — and many more — that Tony mentioned are shown.

“When you get it set where you like, FRIDAY can save it for you,” he explains. “Just for whenever you feel like sleeping in a bed again. I guess.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, looking over at him. “Really, thank you, Tony.”

“No problem, munchkin.” He smiles fully this time as he leaves, closing your door. And to your surprise, he activates Do Not Disturb again.

Food is the last thing on your mind, so instead you head over to the hologram on the wall.

You spend the next hour and a half fixing the settings. Once you get it just right, though, you lie down and you sleep.

Soundly. For five hours.

+++

When you wake again, you’re confused and disoriented to find yourself sleeping in a bed. But you love that your back, shoulders, and hips aren’t screaming in pain for once.

One glance out the window tells you that you’ve definitely missed the dinner Tony invited you to, but you don’t care all that much. You’ve met everyone individually. You didn’t really need or want to go to a big dinner. It seemed pointless.

But, unfortunately, you are hungry, so you drag yourself out of bed to go to the kitchen in search of something resembling food.

One glance at the clock in the hall tells you it’s just past midnight, so you relax even more, knowing you won’t encounter anyone.

Or at least, you hoped.

There, leaned against the kitchen counter, straight up guzzling a glass of water, is Bucky.

At least it’s him, you think.

Bucky smiles gently when he sees you coming. “Hey.”

You offer a slight nod and a quiet “Hey” in return, going straight to the fridge.

“Oh, the plate in there is yours,” he says. “Top shelf.”

You look up and spot it, your eyes widening as you grab it. Did they eat monstrous portions here or something? It must weigh five pounds or something crazy.

As if reading your mind, Bucky says, “Sorry there’s so much. I think Tony went overboard.”

You blink down at the food. Tony made you a plate? You expected Pepper to do it, if anyone. Quite frankly, you weren’t expecting it at all. You figured they wouldn’t even notice your absence.

Bucky wordlessly steps to the side, giving you access to the microwave. It even looks expensive, which makes you snort. It’s touchscreen. Of-fucking-course.

“We missed you at dinner,” Bucky says. You didn’t know he liked to talk this much.

“I fell asleep,” you confess with a laugh. “Tony uh, showed me the controls for the bed.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows. “No more sleeping on the floor for you, then?”

You shrug.

“I sleep on the floor most nights, too,” Bucky continues, taking in a deep breath. “It’s just…”

“Normal,” you finish quietly.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “It feels normal.”

You turn back to the microwave, opening the door a second before it beeps. The food is warm enough now, you guess. Where the hell are the forks, though?

After opening two drawers, Bucky realizes what you’re looking for. “Here.” He opens the drawer across from you and pulls out a fork.

“Thanks,” you murmur, taking it from him. “Night.”

He nods and gives a slight wave. “Night.”

+++

The next day, Pepper stops by your room with a ton of clothes, shoes, and a phone.

“Uhm, thanks…”

“I know it’s a lot,” she smiles gently. “And if you don’t like anything, just let me know. Or if I didn’t get anything that you need, let me know, too.” She pauses. “You don’t have to do it now.”

“Okay,” you sigh, trying not to feel overwhelmed, but it’s hard. There’s like...fifteen bags on your bed right now. Not to mention the boxes of shoes that are stacked on the floor. And the new phone, still in the box, that you’re holding in your hand.

Pepper points to the phone. “It should have my number, Tony’s number, and the rest of the Avengers programmed in there. You’ll see one named Happy, that’s just Tony’s assistant, just in case. You don’t have to talk to everyone on there, but they do have your number as well. It’s all a precautionary thing. Oh, and the phone can be tracked.” She pauses, lowering her voice. “Just a heads up. In case Tony goes crazy.”

You smile at that. “Thanks.” As if he hasn’t already gone crazy and driven you closer to insanity, too.

“Speaking of Tony,” she says. “He’s willing to do the paternity test whenever you are.”

“Okay,” you nod. “Is today good?”

Pepper blinks. “I don’t see why not.”

“Okay, just...I’ll put some clothes on first.” You’re still wearing what Wanda gave you.

“Yeah, of course,” she nods. “I’ll let Tony know and whenever you’re ready, you can just ask FRIDAY to take you to the lab.”

“Okay.”

Pepper leaves you be, while you get dressed, and it takes you a lot longer than you were expecting.

There are so many clothes.

After finding something somewhat comfortable (and because you’re tired of looking through the bags), you grab your phone, though it feels foreign having it in your pocket.

“FRIDAY...where is the lab?”

“If you head to the elevator, I’ll take you there.”

“Thanks.”

“Of course, Y/N.”

Following FRIDAY’s orders, you head to the elevator and step inside. The doors close and the elevator begins to move, and when it stops, the doors behind you open.

“Welcome to Mr. Stark’s lab.”

Hesitantly, you step off, and you’re met with blaring music.

“Really?” You scream, and Tony lifts his head. “AC/DC? Really?”

The volume lowers a little while Tony replies. “You know your music. I’m impressed.”

“I’m disappointed,” you say. “I prefer Pink Floyd.”

Tony smirks. ‘Another Brick in the Wall, Pt. 2’ begins to play. You hate that you grin, but you do.

“Much better,” you comment. “Pepper told me to come here?”

He nods. “Right, the Father Test.”

You snort. Of course he calls it that.

“We’ll have to head down to MedBay to do it. I’ll be done in just a second.” He taps something on the screen before looking back up. “Did Pepper give you your phone?”

“Yeah.” You pull the device from your pocket and wave it. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”

“I’m not gonna leave you stranded without a phone,” Tony replies. “Also, just for the foreseeable future, don’t leave the Tower without someone. Preferably without me.”

You furrow your eyebrows. You hadn’t thought about leaving and going anywhere until now. “Why?”

“Well, for one, you have an arrest warrant,” he reminds you. “They won’t question it if I’m with you. Which is why it needs to be me — Steve is also fine. But, let’s say, if you left with Bucky, they wouldn’t hesitate to grab both of you.”

“Wasn’t he pardoned or something?”

“Doesn’t mean no one holds a grudge against him.”

You nod. “Right.” Then, you reel back. “So you’re not going to turn me in?”

He shrugs. “I believe you. Even though you won’t tell me who stabbed you.” He taps something else, then drags the screen, and a hologram appears right in front of him.

You roll your eyes. “Because I don’t know who they were. I told you.”

“And I still think you’re lying,” he retorts.

You glare at him through the hologram.

A few more minutes pass where all that fills the silence is Pink Floyd. You’re not complaining, but even Tony’s breathing is grating to your ears.

Once he’s finally finished with whatever the hell he was doing, he heads to the elevator, and you silently follow him.

+++

This time when you enter MedBay, it’s empty, aside from the on-site doctor, Dr. Cho.

“Here for the Father Test,” Tony quips, smirking when Dr. Cho rolls her eyes at him.

You like Dr. Cho already.

“Alright,” she says, putting a pause on what she was doing. “It’s just a simple cheek swab and a little blood.”

“Blood?” You ask. You hate having your blood drawn. Not because of the needle, but because of the idea of your blood being drawn out of your body and used for things you’re unaware of.

It’s creepy.

“Just a small amount,” Dr. Cho assures you with a soft smile. “It acts as a double-check for the paternity test. The cheek swab can give us a general yes or no, but blood is definitive.”

You agree, you just hate it.

First is the cheek swab and Dr. Cho lets you do it, probably sensing your anxiety. She refuses to let Tony do his on his own, but that probably has something to do with how much of a child he is.

Tony gets his blood drawn first, and it is too short for your liking, because once he’s done, Dr. Cho preps you.

Your head is turned the other way while she wipes your skin. Tony moves into your line of vision, and you’re ready to tell him to fuck off before he teases you, but he doesn’t.

He just talks to you.

“Barnes told me you fell asleep yesterday.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Yeah. That’s why I missed dinner. He said you made a plate for me?”

“I did,” Tony nods. “I didn’t want you to go hungry.”

“I could tell,” you snort. “There was enough food on the plate to feed four of me.”

He chuckles. “Did you at least eat?”

“Yeah, I did,” you say. “It was good.”

“Good. How’s the bed?”

“Really good,” you say. “Thanks for showing me the controls and stuff.”

“No problem,” he shrugs. “Nat asked me earlier if you’d like to train with her and Wanda.”

“Train?”

“Yeah, train, workout, whatever you want to call it. Barnes and Rogers usually run if that’s more your speed, Wilson, too, when he’s here.”

“Who’s Wilson?”

“Sam,” Tony fills in. “Falcon.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“He’s in...Louisiana right now, but he should be back here in a few days, so you’ll meet him.” He pauses. “But...stay away from him.”

“Why?”

“He’s...flirty.”

You nearly wheeze. “Are you joking?”

“Nope,” he shakes his head. “I’ve been meaning to say that about Barnes, too. I don’t care if you talk to him. I think it’s good for him — and you. But don’t…” He waves his hands in an ambiguous manner.

“Tony, the absolute last thing on my mind right now is a boyfriend, but even if it was, why would you have any say in it?” You counter.

“Because I know them, and I don’t want them anywhere near you,” he says, like that’s the end of it. “All done, Dr. Cho?”

“All done,” she confirms, and that’s when you feel her pressing a Band-Aid over your skin.

Your head whips around. You didn’t even feel the needle go in or out. What the fuck?

You look back at Tony with a small smile. “Well played.”

“You’re welcome,” he smirks. “Though, I wasn’t kidding.”

You roll your eyes. “Not even Nat or Wanda?”

He looks surprised, but still shakes his head. “Still no.”

“Darn. My plans have been foiled.”

This time when he looks at you, he smiles.

As the two of you are walking to the elevator, he says, “Want to help me in the lab? I’ll let you control the music — just this once.”

You almost say yes, but you’re not really in the mood. “No, thanks though. I really should go through all the clothes Pepper brought me.”

“Ah, right,” he nods. “She told me she went shopping.”

“Yeah…” You exhale. “She went.”

You step onto the elevator after him, and he presses the floors for you and the lab.

“You know, Wanda might help you sort through the clothes if you ask. She might wear whatever you don’t want.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll ask.”

“She’s training right now, though.”

You nod. “Okay. It can wait, I guess.”

Tony rocks on his heels. “I could really use an extra set of hands…”

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

He grins. “You still want to control the music?”

“There’s no way I’m letting you play AC/DC the whole time.”

[kiki-shortsnout]

May I request frostiron Mpreg as a prompt? Thank you! 💜

Hey everyone! A few of you have asked if I'm still doing prompts. The answer is yes, but it does take me a while to write them, I do have a day job and restrictions on my time, plus I'm also working on my IronStrange Bigbang, so please be assured I will get to them all eventually, it will just take time! ❤️

Warnings for below: This is Alpha/Omega and contains Mpreg, just so everyone is aware! Also as it's me.....it's also much longer than I initially thought........

***

‘Sleepy,’ Tony groaned, flopping onto the couch and shoving his head in Loki’s lap. Weakly, he lifted his arms, attempting to bat Loki’s book away and have his full attention.

‘Tired, little Omega?’ Loki teased, his voice low as he closed his book and placed it down on the armrest. If anyone else had called him that, Tony would’ve torn a strip out of their hide, unleashing a verbal smackdown so powerful that it made even the toughest Alphas quake. As it was Loki, Tony accepted the words for what they were, a form of sarcastic affection.

Fingers tangled in his hair, and Tony all but purred at the attention, stretching his limbs out and melting into the couch beneath him, feeling safe in Loki’s hold.

Whatever this was between them, it was good. Loki had respected his boundaries ever since Tony had created the foundations of this…relationship. The Alpha had returned to Earth after his trial on Asgard, remorseful over his actions regarding the Battle of New York, but not quite able to apologize properly for it. The Avengers and SHIELD regarded him with hostility, despite knowing he had been held captive to a brainwashing scepter, waiting for the inevitable betrayal, but Tony had seen something different.

He had recognized something of himself in Loki. Tony knew how close he’d skirted the line of becoming a villain, how his choices in life could’ve been very different. He’d been drawn away from crossing that line many times by Pepper and Rhodey, but Loki didn’t have friends, struggled under different obligations, with only his mother believing he could be more.

Tony understood that all too well, a father that always saw reason to fault you, who always saw the worst in you, and a mother who believed in you.

Loki was one of the few Alphas who respected Tony for who he was, who seemed to enjoy the challenges and verbal sparring they had. He didn’t know if that was because of his Jotun heritage, or how Alphas were brought up on Asgard, but Tony had a sneaky feeling that secondary genders didn’t matter to someone who was neither Asgardian nor a Frost Giant, someone who was a bit of both, but not really either.

Just like Tony who had been raised to suppress his Omega characteristics, to overlap them with Alpha traits and now he was a paradox that didn’t fit into either category.

Like this now though, with Loki stroking through his hair, gazing down at him with fondness, Tony inhibited the sweet Omega form, happy to be close to an Alpha, breathing in his scent, the cold bite of snow that reminded Tony of cozy nights with his mother. They weren’t together, even if Tony had allowed Loki to share his heat a few months ago, one of the rare Alphas Tony had trusted to see him vulnerable in such a way.

‘Your scent…it’s different than usual,’ Loki said, his tone cautious.

This was one of the things Tony adored about Loki, his unwillingness to push him for more, understanding that he was terrified at the prospect of being bonded to an Alpha. He hadn’t morphed into an overbearing monster or become territorial after Tony’s heat, he still checked in and made sure he was comfortable.

Loki was the one Alpha he could see himself becoming bonded to, which made whatever they were doing bittersweet as Loki had also expressed concerns about not wanting to be ‘beholden to an Omega’s whims’ as he’d put it. It was beyond ironic, the one Alpha Tony trusted, the one he would consider for a mate held the same ideals about mating as he did.

Tony wasn’t going to dwell on it, he had a good, no strings attached thing here and he wasn’t going to ruin it.

‘Hmm? I haven’t been feeling well. Pepper says it’s stress, as if I haven’t been stressed every day of my life,’ Tony scoffed, lifting his head for more attention.

‘Do you…would you,’ Loki amended, ‘like my assistance with anything? I know I’m not always understanding of what it is you do but-’

‘Thanks, Lokes, but I’m alright honestly. It’s just board members giving me a rough time that’s all, things will ease off soon,’ Tony told him, opening his eyes and looking up into concerned ones. Loki couldn’t help his Alpha instincts, wanting to care and protect those he cared about, heightened by the fact they had shared a heat and a rut together.

Tony lifted his hand, cradling the side of Loki’s face, both in reassurance and so Loki could bend his head down and breathe in his scent from the gland in his wrist, grounding him. Lips dropped a delicate kiss over the gland, and as green eyes opened, Tony felt a lurch in the pit in his stomach and an irrational rage towards his past self.

Why did I put those boundaries in?

***

Tony ground his forehead into the cool desk, chafing the skin, his blinding headache doing nothing to drown out the words of the doctor ringing in his ears.

What was he going to do?

‘Boss, I think you need to take a break, this can’t be good for you, or the-’

‘Don’t, just don’t,’ Tony snapped, feeling his shoulders hunch, his teeth baring in a snarl. His arms came up to cover his head, protecting him from everything and anything. He needed Pepper, or Rhodey, he needed someone to tell him this was going to be okay, to go through his options.

‘Boss, Loki is requesting a visit,’ FRIDAY told him, making his stress levels skyrocket, his heartbeat increasing to match.

‘Tell him I’m busy.’ Tony jerked his head up, looking around the room. Loki wouldn’t teleport in here, that had been one of Tony’s very first rules, no invading his workshop unless invited. Pepper and Rhodey ignored it, but Loki abided by the rule, as did most of the Avengers.

‘I did. However, he has expressed concern regarding the changes in your behavior, the length of time between your last visit, and I really think-’

‘Alright!’ Tony held a hand up to stop her in her tirade, scrubbing his hands through his hair, thinking quickly. He couldn’t do this, he wanted space to think, to plan. It had been days since he’d gotten the news of his condition, and he’d come straight here, needing to work.

‘Let him in,’ Tony said, ‘and I’m sorry, for my shitty attitude, I’m just-’

‘Understandable Boss. No matter what your decision is, I will support you in any way I am able.’

‘I know, honey, thank you,’ Tony breathed out, trying not to cry, knowing Loki would be able to smell it.

‘Are you well, Anthony? It has been longer than normal since the last time I have seen you and I know the idiots you call teammates share my concern,’ Loki asked, stepping forward with narrowed eyes, trying to scent the air without being obvious about it.

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m fine Loki, just been distracted with something,’ Tony told him, gesturing with his hand at the schematics in the holographic display behind him.

‘You’re distressed,’ Loki informed him.

‘Damn Alpha nose,’ Tony hissed, turning in his chair to look back at his holograms.

‘It has nothing to do with your scent,’ Loki told him, turning his chair back the other way and bending down so they were eye level. ‘What is wrong, darling?’ he asked, reaching up to stroke his thumb over Tony’s eyebrow, trailing down to circle around his eye. ‘You are close to weeping.’

‘I can’t fix the suit,’ Tony answered. It wasn’t a lie, not really.

Loki’s gaze flickered up, taking in Tony’s designs. ‘Is there a weakness in the stomach plating? You’re focusing much of your calculations on that area,’ he asked.

‘It’s the most vulnerable area,’ Tony answered, subconsciously resting his hands over his stomach and then quickly moving them down to his thighs, gripping his jeans.

‘Anthony, your armor is impenetrable, I would know,’ Loki tried to change the tone of their conversation, making a lighthearted jab about their fight months ago.

Tony looked up at the schematics, knowing that no matter the tinkering, the redesigning of the suit, nothing he did would protect the life growing inside him. It was too dangerous, the number of times he got flung across the battlefield, the energy beams, the alien technology, the stress on his body.

He couldn’t be Iron Man anymore. Not like this.

‘Anthony, you need to breathe, listen to me,’ Loki’s voice faded in and out. Nails suddenly tightened on his knees giving him a focus point, his lungs suddenly remembering how to inhale air. ‘That’s it, one breath in, hold it, now release,’ Loki instructed, his scent wrapping around him, forming a protective bubble amidst all the panic, holding him steady.

If I can’t be Iron Man, if I can’t be an Avenger, then what am I? What use am I?

‘Anthony…Tony, darling, you need to breathe. You are safe, I will protect you from everything,’ Loki swore, his gaze turning brittle as he watched him, his lips drawing back from his teeth as he readied himself for battle.

‘I can’t do this,’ Tony blurted, feeling his shoulders beginning to shake.

‘Anthony, you are the strongest Ome…the strongest person I know. There is nothing you cannot do. Know that I will stand beside you, fighting your demons alongside you, you are not alone.’

Beside you. Not for you. Even now with his instincts going haywire, Loki’s scent curdling in the air, becoming so sour with his rage, he was still respecting Tony’s wishes.

Tony flung his arms around Loki’s neck, clutching him close, burrowing his head into his unbroken bonding gland, even as his nose wrinkled against the foul odor, the aroma thick on his tongue, choking him. Loki held him close, rubbing his jaw the best he could over his head, scenting him in a rare act of claiming, warning others away that Tony usually would’ve balked at.

Instead, he tried to get closer, sending Loki to his ass on the floor as he scrambled onto his lap, his hands fisting into Loki’s tunic top, wanting the warmth and reassurance of the Alpha. Loki allowed him to take whatever comfort he wanted, drawing his legs up so his knees bracketed Tony’s body, his arms in a loose hug around his back.

He felt himself blinking back tears, the agony in his heart ingrained in the very tissues of his muscle, aching with every beat. Had Loki ever wanted more from him? He’d never asked, taking Loki’s word for it months ago that he too didn’t want to be tied down. They’d never spoken about anything changing, and Tony wasn’t certain Loki even wanted him in a long term sense, if he would eventually go home and find a royal Omega.

The thoughts made him shake in Loki’s hold, and even the deep crooning rumbling in the Alpha’s chest couldn’t calm him, the frantic thoughts of his mind more powerful than biological instincts.

‘Listen to me, I do not say this as an Alpha to an Omega. I know the boundaries you have set, will abide by them always, but I hope as one friend to another you will speak to me about what is ailing you,’ Loki encouraged.

‘I can’t,’ Tony whimpered.

He needed to sort this out alone.

***

He’d always scoffed at all of the insipid dramas Pepper had made him watch, the misunderstandings unfolding between two characters, arguments and heartbreak that could have easily been resolved with a mature conversation, sometimes even a word.

I’m pregnant.

They weren’t even difficult words to say, but Tony was suffocating under the weight of them, what they meant to him, to Loki, their future, his future.

Tony stood at the edge of the room, on the fringes of things where he was most comfortable. The charity event was in full swing around him, people in their finest clothes dancing, swirls of colorful silk and chiffon, the dark suits of the men a gorgeous contrast. The atmosphere was bubbly, light and frothy like the champagne they drunk, and Tony was the dark cloud, sucking up the positive emotions and radiating a toxic miasma in return.

Pepper suspected something was wrong too. Betas didn’t have the sense of smell Alphas had, but she knew him better than anyone, knew he was hiding something, and he knew he didn’t have long before she backed him into a corner.

He didn’t want to deal with the issue at hand, had started ignoring it, convincing himself that it would go away if he didn’t think about it. Even as he started being sick, the constant exhaustion now plaguing him, he turned a blind eye to it all, cutting himself off from everyone. The Avengers hadn’t noticed, used to Tony becoming obsessed with projects and cutting them off for weeks at a time.

Loki had though, Tony could feel his gaze boring into his back at the shared common room in the tower, the questions burning on his tongue when Tony refused to suit up as Iron Man. Even as Steve and Tony argued about his cowardice, Fury’s threats to take him from the team, he hadn’t said or done anything, leaving Tony to fight his own battles unless he was called for.

No matter how desperately Tony had wanted the Alpha…his Alpha beside him, he couldn’t say anything. Looking down at the untouched champagne glass in his hand, he gave a self-deprecating laugh. He couldn’t come to terms with the idea of becoming a parent, but understanding he’d been thinking of Loki of his Alpha for some time had been a simple realization.

Looking up through all the crowds of people here for the charity event he was supposed to be hosting, Tony found Loki easily. The Alpha was staring at him, hurt lurking in his gaze before he was quickly able to mask it, offering Tony a well-rehearsed smile, one he himself wore at events like this. Loki’s gaze went down to the still full glass in Tony’s grip, lifting his own and tapping the side of it, asking if he wanted something else.

Shaking his head, he turned away from Loki, forcing himself into conversation with one of the sponsors, nodding in greeting as Thor walked past with Bruce, both talking happily with a crowd of fans following.

He felt like an imposter, knowing he was meant to be part of a team. This…condition would change all that, he wouldn’t be taken seriously, forced into a desk position, watching on the sidelines. That wasn’t him, he wanted to protect the Earth.

I am Iron Man.

Smashing glass caught his attention, an ominous hush settling over everyone at the party, guests drawing away from Loki, revealing him to be the culprit of the damage. His fingers were still poised from where he’d been holding a glass, his eyes huge as he stared down at a woman.

A very pregnant, Omega woman.

Shit.

Tony thrust his glass into someone’s hand, trying to escape while there were people forming a barrier between them, fear clawing its way over his body, seizing him in its clutches as he tried to escape. Others turned to help him as they caught scent of his terror, some thinking a villain had shown up as he started to barge pass, trying to make a run for it.

He smacked into Loki’s chest, the lingering magic shimmering in the air revealing he’d teleported himself straight in his path.

‘I think not, Stark,’ Loki hissed, teleporting them both.

***

Despite the rage oozing from Loki’s body, he still made sure Tony had regained his footing after teleporting before he thrust him away, trying to put space between them both, magic crackling in his palms and snaking down his arms.

Tony staggered over to his bed, taking a moment to appreciate Loki the fact had teleported them somewhere he viewed safe. His bedroom was a sanctuary that few had access to, the one place he could nest without judgement, where he had his heats without fear for his safety, knowing that only FRIDAY could override the security locks on his door.

He wrapped his blanket around his knees, subconsciously guarding the life growing inside him as he hugged a pillow to his stomach. Hidden within it was a prototype gauntlet, and he knew Loki knew that, saw the way his gaze went to it even as Tony slid his hand into it, ready to fight.

‘Did you not think I would find out?’ Loki growled, holding his ground, trying not to threaten a pregnant Omega, but ensnared by the potent mix of rage and hurt. ‘Did you think you could conceal it from me forever, ashamed of me and my heritage? Or did you think I planned this for you somehow, trapping you as mine, the one thing you did not wish for!’

‘That isn’t it, Loki,’ Tony protested.

‘Then what, Stark? Tell me before my patience wears thin!’ Loki demanded.

The second use of his surname stung. He’d grown used to the way Loki said Anthony with reverence, the loving way he used darling sparingly, muttering it against his skin when he’d been exhausted from his heat, or when it was used when he sought affection from the Alpha.

‘I didn’t know how,’ Tony pleaded.

‘How to say you were carrying my child… or how to say you wish you weren’t?’

‘That isn’t it Loki! I’m scared damn it!’ Tony shouted, flinging the pillow to the floor, his gauntlet powering up as he pointed it at Loki. He was reacting to the Alpha’s rage, refusing to ever be powerless to an Alpha ever again. Never would he succumb to an Alphas manipulation that he was worthless because of his secondary gender like his father had taught him. Never would he be vulnerable to an Alphas pride, watching as someone he considered family tore his literal heart from his chest, leaving him for dead.

‘This isn’t about you! It was never about you!’ Tony shouted, standing up on the bed, refusing to have the lower ground. ‘I’m going to lose everything! Iron Man, the Avengers! I don’t know how to raise a child! I don’t want my life to change!’ Tony growled, every bit as terrifying as an Alpha.

That was partly the truth. Tony had a soft spot for children, always had done, but that hadn’t meant he wanted one of his own. These writhing, conflicted emotions he had were proof of it. This wasn’t what pregnancy was meant to be like, it was meant to be gender reveal parties and crying over baby booties, ecstatic would be parents falling into each other’s arms as they sobbed.

Not a twisted, broken Omega who didn’t know how to be a parent.

‘Loki…if I can’t even be happy I’m pregnant how am I going to be a parent? I’ll destroy them, just like my father destroyed me,’ Tony croaked, his hand falling to his side, his bare hand going to his stomach, finally acknowledging the life inside him.

‘Anthony, you’re in shock, I think you’re allowed to feel whatever you want to. Children are a wonderful-’

‘You don’t even want me! Why would you want this?’ Tony spat, lifting his gauntlet up again, aiming it at Loki’s chest.

‘Anthony, of course I want you. I have wanted nothing else but you since I began living here on Midgard. You honestly think I care for the Avengers, for dancing the steps SHIELD set out for me? I came to repair the damage with my brother, but I stayed because you were here. A gorgeous, spitfire Omega who stands strong against any Alpha, who ignores his instincts and decides what he wants out of life.’

Loki took a daring step forward, the anger gone from his posture, his hands held out in front of his chest, his posture meek, unthreatening.

‘An Omega I would have bonded long ago had I not seen how deep the scars life had left upon his soul, how terrified he was of commitment. Anthony Stark, I would have you stand beside me for the rest of your days, longer if you would accept me.’

‘Don’t,’ Tony choked out, his voice thick with tears, his legs struggling to hold him up.

Loki continued walking, lifting his head back, baring his neck in a vulnerable gesture, showing Tony he was in control.

‘I moved slowly because I did not want to scare you. No matter how much I yearned for you, how much I coveted you as a mate, I restrained my intentions because I wanted you, Anthony. I care not about your gender, either of them, I want you, because of you.’

‘What if I hurt them? What if they end up hating me? What if I can’t do it?’ Every ugly thought he had, every insecurity came flying out and he hated himself for it. Who was he thinking about? Himself? Or the child inside him?

‘Anthony, you are not alone in this. Even if you do not wish for me to be your bonded Alpha that will not stop me supporting you, or our child.’

Tony whined, a high pitched noise of distress and Loki was before him in an instant, embracing and scenting him to calm him.

‘This,’ Loki reached out, his hand huge on Tony’s abdomen. ‘This means more to me than I can express in words, that I found an Omega I could love, that he would bless me with such a gift. Do not think I do not want you, nor or child.’

‘I do want you,’ Tony told him. ‘I haven’t been able to tell you, I thought you-’

‘Hush, Anthony. You know the truth now. Now all that needs to be said is where we go from here.’

‘Iron Man, the team-’

‘Will all be waiting for you after the child is born,’ Loki promised. ‘I will guard Midgard for you in your stead, I swear it.’

‘What about-’

‘The fact that you already worry about such a thing reassures me that you will be a wonderful parent. You have taken great pains to reassure me over the past months that I am more than the sum of my parts, and now I speak the same wise words to you. You are not your father, Anthony, and I am not mine,’ he whispered, bending down to swipe away the furious tears building.

Tony surged forwards, kissing Loki, their tears mingling on their lips, sealing them together. Loki attempted to laugh as he pulled away, kissing Tony’s cheekbone.

‘I love you, Anthony. May I please have the honor of courting you?’

‘I love you too, Loki and only if that involves lots of presents,’ Tony tried to joke, his tears still falling.

‘Of course, only the best for my demanding Omega. We shall speak of our…unexpected gift at another time, but for now I believe it is best we rest. You’ve had me worried for weeks and unable to sleep,’ Loki told him, encouraging him back down towards the bed, scooping the blankets around Tony in a haphazard nest, not hiding his impulses now he knew of his feelings.

‘You really think I can do this, that we can do this?’ Tony asked as he settled down against Loki’s side, all the exhaustion he’d been struggling with making itself known.

‘I do not believe it will be free of challenges, but I am not lying to you when I say there are few beings in this universe I could love, fewer still that I would entrust to bear my child,’ Loki whispered down to him, hand splaying over his stomach. ‘Sleep, darling, we will talk more in the morning.’

Shoving aside any rampant thoughts in his mind, for positive reasons this time, Tony allowed his fingers to lace through Loki’s on his stomach, turning his gaze inwards, wondering who was inside there.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By Your Doorstep (Part 2)

Summary: Dean lets Sam in on a secret of his as to why he’s previously sworn off all dating before he and the reader go on their first one together. But it’s not just a simple first date when they realize they have more in common than they originally thought...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 4,200ish

Warnings: language, mentioned past sexual assault (not graphic)/child abuse, talk about sex toys, self-worth issues

A/N: Enjoy!

_________

Dean’s POV

“Hey,” said Sam a little over an hour later as he walked in the front door. Dean nodded and put the pie he’d brought into the fridge, walking back over to take a seat on the other side of the wrap around couch. “Your eyes are red.”

“That’s what happens when you cry, genius,” said Dean. He sighed and pulled his blanket over himself, rolling his eyes when Sam got up and sat closer. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing was me being really sick when I was sixteen and shitting my pants and you didn’t say a damn thing about it other than you got me cleaned up. Dean nothing you can say will make me laugh. Fuck, I’m scared somebody…” said Sam.

“You’re gonna find out stuff about my sex life,” he said.

“You taught me about sex. Dean, I’m not gonna judge you.”

“I hooked up with a chick after work once. I had some meetings so I wore a dress shirt and tie that day. We got a room, it got heated, and my first mistake was letting her tie my hands to the headboard with that stupid tie. I shouldn’t have asked but I did. I must have been in a mood cause...I asked her to stick a finger up there cause it feels good with a blowjob. I told her the tip of a finger and she didn’t really seem to care when I told her to stop pushing inside with a dry fucking finger. She didn’t care when she shoved practically her whole hand up there no matter how much I told her to stop. Eventually once she realized my boner wasn’t coming back she washed up, untied me and left. I’ve always been leery of relationships but after that I said fuck no. Until I met this girl today. She seems sweet.”

Sam didn’t move and Dean threw his head back. 

“Say something.” 

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” said Sam quietly. Dean risked a glance over at him and was surprised to see Sam’s scrunched up face. “Did you ever say anything?”

“No and I don’t want to. It was over two years ago. I honestly forgot about it until today and I met that girl,” said Dean.

“I hope she’s a good fit,” said Sam.

“Me too.”

“Just um, for the record, doing that stuff isn’t weird. I’ve had my share of experiences,” said Sam. 

“Thanks,” said Dean. “Don’t go on treating me any kind of way or anything, got it? This was a one time thing.”

“That’s what you said the last time,” said Sam before he gave Dean a hug. 

“Loser,” said Dean as he returned it. “You staying the night? It’s pretty late.”

“Yeah if you don’t mind,” said Sam as he sat back. He stretched and Dean looked him over. “What?”

“You were at the office, weren’t you.”

“So,” he said with a shrug. 

“Sammy you’re twenty seven. Friday nights are for fun or hanging out at home, not work. I told you I didn’t like that firm you work for.”

“It’s not a very kind place to work,” said Sam. “I’ve been thinking of leaving honestly, coming closer to home again.”

“Really?”

“I miss my friends, our friends. You’re alright too,” he said, Dean resisting the urge to tease him for it.

“Move in here. If you want your own place, you can find one with no rush. I wouldn’t mind company,” said Dean. “There’s plenty of law firms downtown. You’d have no problem getting a job.”

“I gotta stay another two months for them to finish paying off my loan,” said Sam. “But after that, yeah I think I’ll come back home. I just had to go out on my own without you watching my back, you know?”

“Yeah. I was still always watching your back though,” said Dean. “Don’t be trying to get me to eat all that healthy crap or I’ll kick your ass to the curb.”

“You are literally a doctor.”

“And doctors are literally the worst patients. Trust me,” said Dean with a smirk. “What kinda pie you bring me?”

“Blueberry,” said Sam.

“I gonna ruin whatever cleanse you’re on if you have a slice?” 

“You got ice cream?”

“Always were a sucker for ice cream,” said Dean. He hopped up from the couch and hummed as he went over to the kitchen, Sam watching and following after a moment. Sam took a seat at the counter while Dean put a plate in front of him, putting the ice cream on top of the pie how he liked it. “There you go.”

“Thanks,” he said before he dug in. Dean took his time with his own piece, leaning back against the counter. 

“Thanks for coming over tonight. Never told anyone before.”

“I’ll never say a word,” said Sam.

“I know you won’t, Sammy,” said Dean. He got out a pair of beers from the fridge and handed one to Sam with a smile. “You doing okay? Been awhile since we talked.”

“Mhm,” said Sam quickly.

“Want to tell me what it is? Whatever you’re not telling me? I think we established that-”

“Mom contacted me this week. At work. My number and picture was on the company website so she called there,” said Sam.

“What exactly did Mary have to say?” said Dean, setting down his plate and nursing his beer instead.

“She said she and dad have been together again for a few years. They went to couples counseling and dad stopped drinking and a whole bunch of other bullshit.”

“Wouldn’t happen to be the fact I’m a doctor and you’re a lawyer and her stay at home ass wants a nicer lifestyle, hm?” said Dean. “Tell her to shove it up her ass and to get a job if she wants money.”

“She sounded different, Dean. Like maybe she’s in trouble or something,” said Sam.

“That’s the same crap she pulled on you when you were eighteen and twenty one and twenty four and guess what, it’s three years later again. Time for her to lie to you, right on schedule.”

“She’s not the devil, Dean.”

“She slapped you in the face.”

“I was backtalking her. I deserved it.”

“You were an upset kid-”

“I was 14.”

“You were an upset kid and she hit you. That was the final straw for me and it should have been for you too,” said Dean. “You should stay away from her, Sam.”

“I’m not going to suddenly start hanging out with her. She just wanted to know if I’d consider meeting her and dad again and I told her I didn’t know and if I wanted to talk to them, I’d reach out, otherwise they could leave me alone. Happy?” Sam pushed his plate away and crossed his arms, pursing his lips while he stared at the counter.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, Sammy. I wish our parents were normal. I’d kill to have had them. But they weren’t and they sucked and they’ve tried to manipulate us our entire lives. Just keep no contact and you’re better off.”

“Why don’t they ever contact you?” Sam looked up and Dean turned his head.

“They hate me. I hate them so that’s fine,” said Dean. 

“But why-”

“I got custody of you. I took you from them in their eyes, ergo they hate me.”

“I mean, do you ever think about-”

“No. I don’t plan on speaking to either one of them for the rest of my life,” said Dean. He finished his beer and picked up his pie plate again. “I know you want-”

“I used to want a lot of things. It wasn’t what was best for me though and I shouldn’t have given you so much shit for taking me away as a teenager.”

“Well alright then,” said Dean, picking at his pie again. 

“You ever gonna tell me how exactly you pulled that off? It was handled outside of court and I know you gotta have some shit or something on them,” said Sam.

“Maybe I’ll share someday but not tonight,” said Dean, his voice firm. “Why don’t you grab another couple beers and we’ll throw on a movie, alright? Polish off this pie.”

“Alright. I’m stealing some of your clothes though. I want to get out of this office crap,” said Sam. He stood up and headed for the stairs when Dean grunted. Sam looked back over his shoulder and Dean nodded.

“I’m glad you came over tonight,” said Dean.

“Me too. This girl must have made a hell of an impression.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

Reader’s POV

“Tessa. Oh my God, it was fine the first time,” you said as she worked on your side braid again. “Dean’ll be here any minute.”

“Relax. Make him squirm,” she said. “How are you so shit at braiding hair anyways?”

“Cause mom never taught me, that’s why,” you said.

“I think it’s cause you’re just shit at it,” she said.

“You shouldn’t say shit all the time you know.”

“Seriously.”

“Just don’t do drugs and don’t get pregnant and I’m happy.”

“Well for the record, I’m a virgin,” she said.

“Good.”

“I actually do have a question.”

“You waited until I literally can’t move away, didn’t you,” you said as she moved your hair together.

“Yes, I did,” she smiled. “Um it’s kinda…”

“Go ahead and ask. I guarantee I had the same questions.”

“What’s a vibrator? One of the girls was talking about it in gym class and I didn’t...get it,” she said.

“Do you understand how girls masturbate?” you asked. She nodded and you bit your lip. “So you know how when you rub your...when you rub your clit it feels good, right? Some people like to use a vibrator which is normally a stick type thing that has different settings with a head end that’s rounded. If you put that against your clit, it can feel really, really good...and get you to orgasm pretty hard.”

“Oh. Okay,” she said as she finished with the braid. “So what’s a dildo?”

“Similar but basically a fake dick,” you said. 

“Uh, what?” she said as the doorbell rang.

“How about we talk about all this stuff tomorrow, okay?” you said.

“Okay. I’m still hung up on the fake dick thing.”

“Block it out of your head for now,” you said, shaking your head. “If I’m not back by the time you head to Hailey’s lock up and remember to bring Toast’s bed with you this time, okay? He likes it better than the hard floor.”

“I know, I know,” she said. You jogged downstairs and opened the door, Dean in a pair of jeans and a black tee shirt. 

“Howdy,” he said with a big smile.

“Hi Dean,” said Tessa out her window. 

“Hello Tessa,” he chuckled. “Torturing your sister today?”

“Always,” she said. “You two kids have fun now!”

“Oh you don’t even know what a fake dick is,” you said. “Do not go looking that up on the internet either.”

She groaned as you grabbed your purse and locked up, Dean laughing to himself.

“Sorry. She decided to literally start asking about sex toys right before you got here.”

“Sounds fun,” he said. You hopped down your steps and saw a very nice muscle car parked out front. “Hungry?”

“Starving.”

“I know the perfect place.”

“Okay, Winchester. I will respect your food truck game,” you said, munching on your taco. “Normally I’m leery but this is good.”

“Told you so,” he said. He took a big bite of his across from you, slurping down some lemonade. He burped and blushed, covering his mouth. “Excuse me.”

“You’re almost cute with that pink on your cheeks,” you said.

“I liked this better when you were the shy one,” he said. You smiled and ate quietly for a few minutes, Dean nodding when you were both finished. He took your hand and you started to walk around the big park in town, finding a walking trail after a few moments. “I like your hair. It’s cute.”

“My sister did it. I’m not you know, good at that stuff,” you said.

“I liked your hair yesterday too,” he said. “So how does one name a dog Toast?”

“I thought it’d be funny,” you said. “Tessa was on a limited diet at first at the hospital. Toast was the one thing she liked. When they talked to me about a service dog, I got in touch with some people and they were training a new litter so we got to name the dog and I picked Toast. It was just a goofy thing I suppose.”

“Is he always on duty?” he asked.

“No. His vest comes off at home and he’s a normal one mostly. Tessa’s staying with a friend tonight so he’ll go with her. He’s very protective of her. It’s why he ran home and got me yesterday.”

“Smart dog,” he said. “My brother always wanted a dog. It never quite fit with our life though.”

“How old is he?”

“A year younger than you. He might get one soon I think.”

“What about you?”

“I don’t think I’d be very good at it. My yard is big enough though,” he said. “I’m over on Fern Lane. The blue house.”

“You got that big cool balcony over the garage right?” you said.

“That’s the one,” he said. “I haven’t been there too long. It’s a nice neighborhood.”

“It is. We grew up here. I was out of the house but I moved back for Tessa. You from Lawrence?”

“Yeah. East side of town though. Always wanted to live over here,” he said. “Everything seemed so perfect over in the nice part.”

“Mostly,” you said. 

“It does get easier. Trust me.”

“I hope so,” you said. He bumped your shoulder and you smiled. “So what kind of doctor are you?”

“Obviously I’m a brain surgeon,” he said. You rolled your eyes and he laughed. “General family practice. I’m boring, I know.”

“That is still way too hard for me,” you said.

“I bet you could do it if you really wanted to. So what do you do? I overheard you say to Tessa you got a new job.”

“I was a paralegal at a law firm. On Monday I start as a junior investor at Sandover, the big marketing firm.”

“My friend Charlie is head of IT there,” he said. “She says it’s a pretty decent place to work.”

“Oh. That’s good. I hope it works out,” you said. 

“I bet it will. Just don’t let ‘em work you to death,” he said.

“I’m gonna try. I’m excited. This could be really good for us. Tessa doesn’t know how...tight things have been.”

“Leeman’s over on the east side, it’s a pretty cheap grocery store. It’s not fancy but we used to go all the time as a kid. Way cheaper than the box store over here,” he said.

“I’ll have to check it out,” you said. You looked him up and down, Dean smiling to himself. “You grew up kinda…”

“Poor? Yeah. It’s okay. It’s not a bad word,” he said. He ran his thumb over your hand and you smiled back at him. “You learn to get by. My brother’s a lawyer now so we don’t have to worry about that too much now.”

“Maybe Tessa’ll be a doctor,” you said. “That’d definitely help us.”

“I’m sure she’ll do something good. You can just tell she looks up to you. She won’t let you down.”

“Fingers crossed,” you said. “So why choose general medicine?”

“Thanks,” you said, sticking your arms through Dean’s flannel later that evening.You took his hand again, walking through downtown back towards his car.

“I don’t remember the last time I spent a Saturday like this, hanging out with someone,” he said.

“Been a while for me too,” you said.

“Is this still considered the first date?” he asked.

“Probably. Why?”

“You want to come over my place...for coffee?” he asked. 

“Oh.”

“No, no. I mean like, literal coffee. I have pie at home and...if I was talking sex I’d be a big boy and just ask,” he said.

“Oh. Well in that case, sure,” you said. “Guys that want sex on the first date normally don’t end up getting a second one in my experience.”

“Well I definitely want a second one,” he smirked. “Also I really want some pie and I need to know your pie stance because this could impact the future of this relationship greatly.”

“I see,” you laughed. “I like a man who knows where his priorities lie.”

“Damn straight I do,” he said. He threw his arm over your shoulders and chuckled. “It’ll knock your socks off, I guarantee it.”

“Alright, this is pretty good,” you said twenty minutes later as you sat at Dean’s kitchen counter, munching on a piece of blueberry pie. 

“Told you so,” he said. He ate another forkful, getting some whipped cream stuck on the tip of his nose. He didn’t notice and started to giggle as you stared at him. “What’s that face for goofy?”

“You got a little…” you said, reaching over and wiping it off with your thumb. You licked if off and he blushed for probably the tenth time that day. “You don’t strike me as shy around women, Dean.”

“Normally I’m not. You make me nervous. Good nervous but still nervous.”

“What about me is so intimidating?” you asked, stealing a tiny piece of his pie. 

“You remind me of me. I’ve been in similar shoes to yours. I know how easy it is to get set off and how people don’t realize you don’t mean what you’re saying.”

“Pushing people away you mean.”

“I don’t want to get pushed away or cross a line.”

“Tell me a secret and I’ll tell you one of mine,” you said.

“I took custody of my brother when I turned eighteen,” he said. You stared at him, Dean nodding. “My mom walked out when I was a kid more than once and my dad was...unkind at times. I protected my brother from it as much as I could. When I was able to, I left and I was given guardianship of my brother. I’ve not seen either of my parents since. I understand raising your younger sibling when you are scared shitless. Most people don’t. They don’t get that I’m still fucked up from the stuff that happened as a kid and when I took in my brother. People don’t get that, not all the way. Not even my best friends or my brother. But you have this look and I know you understand the same way I do so I’ll be nervous because I like you more than just because you’re pretty and helpful and a good sister. You get some part of me that I don’t talk about and it’s the part of you that you don’t talk about and maybe we can make that work.”

You leaned forward and kissed him, Dean sliding a hand to your cheek, a soft but comforting weight to it.

“What’s your secret,” he said quietly, your forehead resting against his.

“I lost my job,” you said. “I lied to Tessa. She worries so much already and I can’t let her know the truth. I’ve been working as a cashier the past month.”

“Y/N, you gotta tell her the truth.”

“She already feels guilty because our parents were picking her up from basketball practice when the accident happened. She goes to therapy, Dean. I can’t tell her. Not now.”

“Can you afford to stay in the house?”

“It’s almost paid off. She can afford four years at the university with my share of the inheritance.”

“Y/N. You can’t go bankrupt just to send her to a university.”

“Lots of people do.”

“Y/N. I practice general medicine because the state pays off my student loan debt if I do. You have to tell Tessa the truth about what’s realistic.”

“My seventeen year old sister currently makes more money than I do. I can’t take anything else from her. She deserves to go to the school she always wanted to.”

“Well...we need a new lab tech at work. Do you want it?” he asked.

“Dean, I’m not asking for a job.”

“I’m not giving charity either. You have a degree, you’re smart and I know you could do it. I don’t know the pay but it’s got to be better than minimum wage.”

“Dean.”

“Someone helped me. I was an eighteen year old kid with a part time job and I had no idea what I was doing. Someone helped me and it gave me a chance to live, to have all this. It’s not charity. It’s decency and everyone deserves that.”

“Never tell my sister,” you said.

“If you take the job I won’t.”

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “This was a more fun date a few minutes ago you know.”

“But now we’re really starting to know one another,” he said. You were quiet, playing with your fork for a beat.

“Can I stay over? I don’t like sleeping in the house alone.”

“Of course,” he said. You flicked your eyes up, Dean offering you a smile. 

“How do you get happy again?”

“Having a stranger run by shouting about toast helps,” he said. You rolled your eyes and he shrugged. “I’m not joking.”

“Why are you single?”

“I’m more complicated than I look at first glance. I’ve been told it’s not an attractive quality.”

“Well fuck whatever bitch said that.”

“I really like you,” he chuckled.

“I have my moments,” you said. You sat back, Dean pushing the bit of pie left on his plate around. “Was that too much...me sharing that.”

“No. I’m glad you did,” he said. “You want to watch something?”

“Whatever you want is fine.”

“Come on,” he said. He showed you upstairs and gave you some clothes to sleep in before he showed you outside to the balcony over the garage. “I sit out here at night sometimes.”

“It’s gorgeous,” you said. You settled down into an oversized chair with him, looking up at the dark sky.

“Yes, it is,” he said as he looked in your direction. 

“So what’s your favorite kind of pie?”

“Oh well if you want to go down that road I can chat your ear off all night.”

“Good morning,” said Dean as you made your way downstairs. You yawned and gave him a smile, Dean handing you a cup of coffee.

“Much appreciated.” You took a long gulp, stretching out and taking a deep breath. “What time is it?”

“After ten. We stayed up pretty late talking,” he said.

“I guess we did,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck. “Can I have your phone for a sec?”

“Sure,” he said. You put in your number and handed it back.

“Text me sometime,” you said.

“I think I’ll take you up on that,” he said. “I gotta run and do a few chores this morning but I’m having a few friends over later to watch football if you and Tessa would like to join.”

“You really want my sister hanging out with us?”

“Yeah. As long as she’s like, not a devil worshipper or doesn’t like pie she’s always welcome.”

“Only you would categorize those two things together,” you laughed.

“I am quite serious about my pies.”

“Oh I learned that last night,” you said. “I’ll invite her. She’s seventeen though so not sure how much fun she’ll have.”

“There’ll be a couple guys her age if-”

“She’ll definitely be there then,” you said.

“Great. Let’s have some breakfast quick before I drop you off at home.”

______

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

[fanfics-for-the-hockey-fan]

A Lie to Love - Nathan MacKinnon

This is for @antoineroussel Summer Fic Exchange. I had the wonderful @broadstbroskis!

I had so much fun writing this fic and reading everyone else's work, I love getting to see so many great writers sharing their work on this site. This is also one of the longest pieces I have written in a very long time, as I was writing this I had a million other fic ideas pop in my head so many those will get written some time soon.

***

I just sat down on my couch, just getting home from work when someone started knocking on my apartment door. I was hoping to ignore it and it would go away, unfortunately they kept knocking. I groaned as I got up, decided how much I was going to curse this person out. “What-” Right behind the door was Nate, giving me a nervous smile.

I had met Nate through his teammate Gabe, I babysat for Gabe and Melissa on a regular basis. Nate showed up one night that I was watching their daughter looking for advice from Melissa. I was able to help him then he hung out with me until Gabe and Melissa came home. Since then I could expect him to show up at my apartment at least once a week for dinner, and we were close friends after I had to save him from a laundry emergency that first night I met him.

“I’m so glad you’re home. I need a huge favor.” Leaving the door open I headed back towards my couch, I knew Nate would follow me and close the door behind him. Once I was sitting on the couch again Nate pulled my legs onto his lap.

“Last time you asked for a favor I ended up with the flu.” Which was true, he had asked me to help out at a learn to skate event that was outside in December. It had been a cold and foggy day, and two days later I was down for the count.

“I brought you soup! And tissues for we left for that road trip.”

“You brought me one box of tissues and two cans of tomato soup.” Nate raised an eyebrow like I had proven his point. I threw a pillow at his head before speaking again. “I’m allergic to tomatoes!”

“Oh, I’m an idiot. Sorry. But I still need a favor.” I really wanted to just say no, ask Nate to leave and go to sleep until I had to go into the office tomorrow. But I knew I was going to say yes before I even found out what he needed. “Please Ruth.”

“What is this favor?”

“I need you to be my fake girlfriend.”

“That was not what I was expecting you to say.” That got a small chuckle out of Nate but he also looked nervous. “Why do you need a fake girlfriend?” Nate was in a ‘single and loving it’ stage of life, he just wanted to play hockey and hang out with his teammates.

“An executive on the team has been talking up his daughter for like the last two years. I’ve been able to brush off the hints he has been throwing at me, luckily she doesn’t live here. Today he came up to me when I was heading out for the day, talking about how his daughter is coming into town and how we should get dinner together so I can get to know her. I thought I could brush it off as a one off dinner, say we there was no connection and then she would be gone. Easy, ya know?”

“Not really. But continue.”

“Apparently this isn’t just a visit for her, she is moving here. And going to work for the team on the social media team.”

“That must have ruined your plan.” Nate nodded and I knew I was going to agree to his crazy plan. “So how did all this lead to me needing to be your fake girlfriend?”

“I panicked and said I had a girlfriend.”

“And I’m the only girl you hang out with that isn’t related to you or in a relationship with a teammate.”

“You are also one of my best friends and the one person I trust every part of my life with. I know this is a lot to ask, I know this is bigger than asking you to help with a skating event. This is a change to every part of your life, and lying to a lot of people.”

“I’ll do it.” Nate’s jaw actually dropped like he couldn’t believe I was agreeing to do it. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

“Thank you, thank you so much. I know this is a huge ask, I really do.”

“Before we talk about details, I need food and wine. Not necessarily in that order.” I ordered food and pulled out the biggest wine glass I had. As we waited for the food, we came up with a plan and story to tell everyone. We decided to stick with the cliche story of best friends who decided to fall for each other.

“Um, what about kissing? And other PDA?” Nate’s cheeks flushed as he asked the question and I knew it wasn’t from the wine. “I don’t want to do anything you are uncomfortable with.”

“Let’s just start with hand holding and that kind of stuff.”

“Yeah, okay. That sounds good.” Our food was delivered then, Nate going to the door and coming back with the bags of food.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it, you can think about it like this is our first date.” I nod and start eating once we decided on something to watch. This felt normal for us, eating take out and watching whatever hockey game Nate was able to find. After we finished eating Nate helped me clean everything up before he got ready to leave. I walked him to the door, hugging him tightly as he let out a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I will ever be able to repay you for doing this. Thank you so much.”

“Don’t worry about it Nate, I’ll always be there when you need me.” I closed the door behind him, hoping that I wouldn’t regret agreeing to fake date my best friend.

Nate’s pov

I had been ignoring my phone since I pulled into the parking lot at Ruth’s apartment building, knowing that asking Ruth to do this would make or break our friendship. When I left her apartment I was hopeful that this wouldn’t be the end of our friendship. But I also knew it was only going to make my feelings for her grow. I realized within a month of knowing Ruth that I had feelings for her, and I had almost told her a dozen times a year since then.

I checked my phone when I got home, I had four missed phone calls from my captain and nearly a dozen texts. I skipped over looking at all the messages and just called him. “Nate, why did I hear you say that you are dating someone? Mel has been questioning me since this afternoon because she heard you say to someone that you are in a relationship. She is pissed that I didn’t tell her about it. Which is hard to do considering I had no clue.”

Before I could answer I heard Mel’s voice. “MacKinnon, you better tell me who you are dating.”

“Uh, Ruth-” There was a loud squeal on the other end of the call and then I heard Landy trying to shush his wife.

“When were you going to tell us this?” Gabe asked after it got quiet. I wanted to tell them the truth, we had talked about it. We eventually decided that we wouldn’t tell them the truth because Gabe was the worst gossiper on the team.

“It’s only been about a month, we wanted to make sure this was going to work before we shared it with anyone. We wanted to wait even longer but one of the executives was trying to set me up with his daughter.”

“Alright. I guess that is enough information from now. We can always ask more questions at that fundraiser on Friday night.”

“Oh shit.” That caused Gabe to laugh at me.

“You didn’t tell her about that yet?”

“No, we weren’t going public yet so I figured that I would just go by myself. But I guess I need to tell her about that now and see if she is willing to come with me.”

“That is a big first outing, good luck with that buddy.” Gabe hung up and I knew that I needed to tell Ruth about Friday but when I left she had mentioned she was going to crash as soon as I left. I figured I should go to bed now and deal with everything tomorrow.

***

I was getting ready to knock on Ruth’s door when it flew open and Ruth was standing there looking shocked. “Nate! What are you doing here?” Her eyes then looked at the coffee cup I was holding, one that I had brought for her. “Oh, what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“You only ever bring me my favorite coffee order when you have bad news.”

“I-Landy reminded me last night that we have a black tie fundraiser on Friday night.”

“And now that our supposed relationship is public, you are expected to bring your girlfriend with you.”

“Yeah. I am sorry, I never meant to make your life this complicated.” Ruth took the coffee from me, taking a sip before locking her door.

“I know what I signed up for Nate. I need to get to work, walk with me to my car.” I followed her through the hall of her apartment, waiting for her to yell at me. “What is this fundraiser for? And what kind of dress do I need?”

“It’s for the children’s hospital. We do it every year, they book a huge ballroom and it’s a lot of rich people. The Avs don’t run this fundraiser but all the sports teams in town donate a bunch of stuff to them to auction off and the team likes us to go so the people are more willing to open their wallets.”

“And yet that doesn’t tell me what kind of dress I need, or what time this thing is. Or any of the other million things I need to know to get ready for this thing.”

“I’m not sure about any of this, every year I go by myself. I can have Mel call you?”

“That sounds good. I have to go now, I have a project that was assigned to me yesterday that is way behind schedule. So thank you for the coffee and I’ll see you later.” I watched as she got into her car and drove away.

Ruth’s pov

By the time lunch came around I was buried under a pile of work, I hoped that if I could work through lunch and stay a little late every day this week that I would be caught up by the end of the week so I could focus on the lie at this fundraiser. So when I saw that Melissa was calling me I knew my plan was about to be derailed. “Hey Melissa.”

“I am going to ignore the fact that you didn’t tell me about you and Nate. And I am also going to save all of my questions for later, Nate told me that you need a dress for Friday. I can be at your office in 10 minutes, we can go shopping during your lunch hour.”

“I am so behind on a project that was just given to me this morning and it was already so far behind because the guy who was incharge of it before me was an idiot. I don’t have time to take a lunch break this week.”

“But Nate gave me his card to buy your dress with.” I knew I would regret what I was about to say but I didn’t have another option.

“If I tell you what size I wear, can you just get me something?”

“Absolutely!”

“Thank you. As much fun as I think shopping with you would be, I just can’t leave right now.”

“I get it. Send me a text with your sizes and I’ll find you the perfect dress.”

“Because my brain is a mess right now, I wasn’t supposed to babysit on Friday right?”

“No, my parents are in town this week. They are watching the kids. There is no way you are getting out of this event.” A part of me was hoping that I would have that as an excuse to not go but with that option gone I started to mentally prepare myself for Friday night.

***

“Thank you for letting me get ready here.” I said to Nate as he let me into his house. “And thank you for letting me crash here tonight.”

“Of course, it makes more sense this way. I also have your dress, Mel wouldn’t let me look at it when she dropped it off on Tuesday. I figured you can use my room to get ready, it has more counter space for whatever you need.”

“I’m not kicking you out of your bedroom and bathroom.”

“It’s not kicking me out when I volunteer to use the guest room. C’mon, let me carry your bag.”

“How long until we need to leave?”

“I have an Uber scheduled for 75 minutes from now.” I nod, knowing that I could make that work without having to rush too much. Once Nate headed into the guest room I started to unpack what I would need for now. Grabbing a towel before going to figure out the shower, which was far more high tech than anything I had ever seen in a shower before. I wrapped the towel around myself and went to find Nate. “Nate?! How do I work your futuristic shower?” I only stuck my head out in the hall to yell and luckily he heard me from the guest room he was in. A few seconds later he came out in only a loose pair of shorts, laughing at me. “Don’t laugh at me, your shower has a computer screen!” I opened the bedroom door so he could come in, watching his eyes widen when I saw I was only wearing a towel. As he came in to turn the shower on for me I took the time to look over him. When he turned to show me how to change the temperature and turn it off I knew he caught me checking him out. Nate was such a beautiful person, inside and out. I knew that fake dating Nate had the potential for my true feelings to come out and I was trying to convince myself that this wouldn’t end with the death of our friendship.

“Need anything else?”

“Nope.”

Nate’s pov

It took every ounce of willpower to not kiss Ruth when I saw her standing in my bedroom in just a towel, and then when I caught her checking me out I was really tempted to tell her the truth. I knew that this fake dating would just cause more pain for me but there was nothing I could do about that now. I took a colder shower than I had originally been planning to take but after that was done I got my suit on, just a dark grey suit so that hopefully I wouldn’t clash with whatever Ruth was wearing.

Just as I finished getting my shoes on there was a knock on my door. I opened it and was immediately speechless. The deep green dress looked amazing on her and I am pretty sure that my jaw was on the floor. As she moved in the dress I saw the large slit on the one side that showed a lot of her leg. “Can you zip my dress?”

“Y-yeah.” Ruth turned so her back was to me, pulling her hair to the side so I could tug up the zipper before whispering. “Perfect.”

“I should be ready in just a few minutes.”

“Yeah, I just need to come grab a tie. I wanted to wait until I saw what color your dress was.” Ruth nodded as we both heard into my bedroom, I headed straight for my closet and by the time I came out with my tie on Ruth was standing at the end of my bed smiling. “You look amazing.”

“You do too.” I walked over to Ruth, both of us looking at our reflection in the mirror. “We make a good looking couple.”

“I don’t think I can do this.” I froze after those words came out of my mouth, Ruth looking at me with wide eyes.

“O-okay, um, I’ll go grab my stuff and get out of your hair.” Ruth went to turn and walk away from me, but I gently turned her around so I could tell her the truth.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” I cupped Ruth’s cheek, locking eyes with her. “I have had feelings for you for so long. Probably since a month after I met you but I was scared to tell you. And then we became friends and I didn’t want to make things weird, so I kept it a secret. But I also fell for you more as we became closer friends. So I think a part of me decided to say I was dating someone because I want to be dating you. For real.” Ruth didn’t say anything, just took a step closer and pressed her lips to mine. “I, what just happened?”

“Everything you just told me, I feel the same way.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Now kiss me for real.” That I could do, I kissed Ruth like I had wanted to do for years. We only stopped kissing when a car horn sounded in my driveway. “I think I need to fix my lipstick.”

“I would say sorry but I’m not. I’ll go to the car if you want to fix your lipstick.” Ruth nodded, stepping back while smiling at me. “Just so you know, this isn’t our first date. I will be planning that for next week and it is going to knock your socks off.”

“As long as you are there, I can’t wait.” I kissed Ruth one more time before healing downstairs to tell the driver we were almost ready. I also couldn’t keep the smile off of my face, I couldn’t believe what started out as a panicked lie turned into a chance to date my best friend for real.

[ridiculousn3sswrites]

Lost in Translation

*Lafayette x Reader

*Request: “ @thefluffypancake asked: ‘Hey could you do a Lafayette x reader where she’s learning French and she try’s to ask him out on a date but accidentally asks something else. If not, it’s okay! Have a great day! 💞💞’”

*Warnings: Language, my own personal issues with French as a language. Let me know if I missed anything!

*A/N: This request is so old and I’m so sorry for that. Also I kinda changed the request a bit to reader saying she wants to kiss Laf because that word-for-word translation is off and you’ll see in the fic.

Tip Jar

**********

French was definitely a made up, ridiculous language. While - as your friends always felt the need to point out - every language was made up, French was even more made up than anything else. And yet here you were, trying to learn French on your own just so you could ask out the Frenchie in your friend group. It was a stupid idea in hindsight, but you thought it’d be cute to just surprise him by talking to him and then asking him out in French. Turns out it was a lot harder than you thought it would be. When your initial plan didn’t work out, you could always count on your friends to fuck up in a way that would make things somewhat better. 

Apparently, John never got the memo to not tell Alexander you’d asked him for help with French, and Alexander never got the memo that you learning French was supposed to be a secret. He definitely didn’t get the memo to never bring it up in front of Laf (even though you were pretty sure you’d told John you were trying to learn to impress Laf), so he did exactly that when all of you were hanging out. You had just got back to the table, coffee in hand when Alexander opened his stupid mouth. “Hey, how’s learning French going?”

“I mean, that’s one way to greet me I guess,” you said, trying to ignore the heat rushing to your face. Nope, the best course of action would just be to avoid the conversation. “Like, I haven’t even sat down yet.”

“Wait, you’re trying to learn French?” Laf asked, looking at you in excitement. You could already feel your resolve weakening.

“I mean, I’m trying but it’s not working out so great. Turns out that Duolingo owl only cares about Spanish,” you tried joking, taking the empty seat next to him.

“Dude, you asked me for help,” John spoke up, like that would make the situation any better. It wasn’t your fault that French was an utterly ridiculous language. What language even needs that many vowels? 

“Not my fault you’re a shit teacher,” you shot back, deadpan but completely joking. Even though John looked offended, you knew he wouldn’t hold it against you. After all, you were his ride back home. It took John a second to bounce back.

“Nah, you’re just a shit student.”

“I mean, my grades aren’t gonna argue with you there,” you laughed, the tension finally easing up some. You were still gonna strangle Alexander later, but for now things were fine. For all of five seconds.

“Why didn’t you ask me for help?” Laf asked, stealing your coffee and taking a sip. You were quick to take it back from him, trying to think of an excuse that wouldn’t give away your true intentions. However, now that you thought about it, just asking him to help you learn French probably would’ve been the easiest course of action. Have lessons with him a couple times a week for a few weeks, ask him how you ask someone out in French, and then bam! hit him with the question. Why do I always make things more difficult than they need to be?

“I… actually, I don’t know. Do you think you could help me out?” You tried to ignore the impressed look John was giving you. Sometimes you hated the fact he was your best friend.

“Yeah, of course! I’m offended you went to him first,” Lafayette said, stealing another drink of your coffee.

“Dude, buy your own!”

“But yours tastes so much better,” he teased.

“Gross, can you guys get a room or something?” Hercules spoke up. “Actually, don’t. I forgot I share a room with Laf for a second.”

“And you just made it worse than it had to be,” Angelica muttered, rolling her eyes.

“Anyways, when are you free? It’ll be fun helping you learn,” Laf said, turning his attention back to you. “Just send me your schedule and we can set it up!”

“Yeah, sure thing,” you agreed after a second, trying not to seem too eager. You and Laf rarely hung out on your own, normally having at least one of your other friends there with you. You couldn’t remember the last time the two of you had been alone, let alone you not being awkward when it was just the two of you. You texted him a screenshot of your schedule, your heart already racing at the thought of getting closer to him. You could handle hanging out with him with other people, but alone was a whole different story.

“Great! This’ll be fun!” His bright smile was enough to take your breath away, easing your worries somewhat.

“Yeah, I can’t wait.”

“Okay, so back to me,” John redirected the conversation, making a face at the look you were giving Laf. You couldn’t help but laugh at his obvious attempt, gladly letting him talk about whatever project he was working on now. No, you needed to figure out how you were going to handle this.

**********

Considering it was the middle of the semester, it was difficult to find a time to meet up with Laf that worked for the both of you. You both had papers, midterms, and group projects to work on, but you were finally able to find some time to have a little French session. The first few sessions were accidental, happening when Laf happened to find you in one of the 24-hour libraries, way too late for anything to actually stick in your mind. You found yourself only focusing on the way he spoke French, which was way too attractive to be fair.

After you had a few more impromptu sessions, you were finally able to actually set something up with Lafayette. For once, the both of you had a Friday afternoon free, so you’d be able to see him when you didn’t look absolutely destroyed by assignments and projects. It was still early on into your changed plan, but you figured now was as good a time as any to make your move. You managed to convince John to leave the apartment for a few hours at least, not that he made it easy on you. With his incessant teasing, sometimes you wondered why you chose him to be your best friend and roommate. 

Once John was finally out of the apartment, all you had to do was set things up. You set out some snacks, not really knowing how to host other than offering people food, had some study materials set out because the two of you were going to work on some other assignments before you started with the French lessons. Things didn’t have to be perfect, but you were determined to make it as close as possible. You had a note on your phone for what you wanted to ‘ask’ Laf about, and you were ready. The only thing you needed was for Laf to show up.

As you waited for Laf to make his appearance, you decided to get some reading done for class. Well, you tried to. You couldn’t help you constant fidgeting, switching between tabs as though there would be a different internet on each one, checking your phone and scrolling through Twitter - you really had no idea how you were supposed to pretend that you were going to study when he got here. You knew it would be super obvious that your mind wasn’t 100% on your work. Before you could think about it any longer, there was a knock on your door. Holding yourself back, you waited a minute before getting up to answer it.

“Hey,” you said with a smile, acting like you hadn’t just been fretting over how you were going to get through this.

“Hey! You ready to study?” Laf asked, tugging on his backpack strap as if to prove he brought his work with him.

“Yeah! I’m set up at the table if you wanna just head over there.” You silently cursed how non-human that sounded. As soon as the two of you sat down, though, things got easier. Even as the two of you worked, you kept a small conversation going, making jokes about things you’d just read or were working on, telling stories about class. For the first time in a while, things were going just like they were when the two of you hung out with the group. Lafayette made it really easy for you to like him.

After a couple hours of the two of you working on your own things, Lafayette closed his laptop, getting your full attention. Laf leaned forward like he was about to let you in on some giant secret. “Are you ready to learn some French now?”

“Yeah, I wanna know what you, Alex, and John are saying whenever you go into French,” you teased.

“Non, that’s a secret,” Lafayette laughed, looking away. “Alright, let’s start.”

The session started out much like your impromptu sessions: Lafayette would say a common word or phrase in French, he’d ask you what you thought it meant, he’d tell you what it actually meant, and then you’d repeat it to him. He’d fix any mispronunciations, and you’d keep going until you got it right. This would go on for as many phrases or whatever until one of you decided to take a break. It was a nice little process and was definitely helping things stick in your mind more than when you tried learning on your own or with John.

You were the first one to call for a break, your heart pounding as you tried to figure out how you were going to do this. You wanted to ask him out soon, not willing to let yourself chicken out at the last second, especially since you knew John would talk so much shit if he found out you kicked him out and didn’t even ask Laf out. As you were in the kitchen, filling up your water bottle as an excuse, you tried to calm yourself. The worst that could happen would be things getting weird between the two of you, the best was the two of you would get together, so that meant reality would be somewhere in the middle. You took a deep breath before making your way back to the table.

“Ready to start again?” Laf asked, looking up from his phone.

“Yeah, I actually had something I wanted to ask you.” You took your seat next to him, grabbing your phone to double check what you had translated earlier.

“Go ahead.”

“So, uh,” you paused for a second, gathering the last bit of courage you needed. “Right, uh, what does je veux te baiser mean? Because, uh, je veux te baiser.”

Immediately, Lafayette looked away, drinking his water so he didn’t have to answer you. You could just tell something was wrong and felt your face heat up as you just looked down at your hands. When Lafayette finally spoke, you felt your heart drop. “I… I don’t think you know what you just said.”

You looked up, eyes wide. You knew French was tricky, but there was no way you messed up something that simple, right? You tried not to appear too flustered, but you knew it was a losing battle. “Wait, what did I say then?”

“I think I know what you were trying to say, but you didn’t say it.”

“So what did I say?”

“Okay, so direct translation was that, but what you said was, uh, you uh wanttofuckme,” he rushed out the last part, and it took you a second to process what he said. If you thought your face couldn’t get any hotter, you were wrong. 

“Jesus Christ, I am so sorry. I mean I really like you but I didn’t mean to say that and I’m so sorry, that probably made you really uncomfortable and I understand if you want to leave and-” You were cut off by his lips on yours. You quickly melted into the kiss, even though you still weren’t exactly sure what was going on.

“Je veux t’embrasser,” Lafayette said as he broke the kiss.

“What?”

“Je veux t’embrasser. That’s how you say I want to kiss you,” he explained.

“Je veux t’embrasser,” you repeated with a small smile.

“Good.” You were rewarded with another soft kiss. Maybe French wasn’t so ridiculous…

No, it definitely was. 

**********

Permanent Tag List: @treatallwithkindness, @laic2299, @delaber

[mca-attack21]

Distraction part 1

This is a mini series that is Scott x Reader. And before you ask, yes I am still writing the Stiles Sis Fic series the next part will be out relatively soon. I've been busy planning out the later seasons so I could make sure to time everything correctly. Anyways, for more of my writing here is my Masterlist.

Friday

It started as a normal day, you woke up and prepared for school. It was not long before your phone lit up with messages from your boyfriend. It was something along the line of ‘Good morning beautiful’ ‘I can’t wait to see you at school’ ‘I love you’. Every message caused the smile on your face to grow. You loved Scott. He was the guy who had seen you at your worst but would only talk about you at your best. He had a unique ability to make everything better. It was like as long as the two of you were together, nothing could ever stand in your way.

You were about to leave your house when your phone buzzed again. This time the text was from Lydia. ‘Ready for this weekend?’ she sent. ‘Totally, my bags are already in the car’ you replied. You, Allison, and Lydia were going to leave right after the Lacrosse game and go up to one of her family’s cabins. She had decided that you were in need of mandatory girl time. After all, you hadn’t spent much time together with all of the supernatural chaos.

It was a normal school day. You were greeted by Scott and Stiles. You sat through all of your classes, met up with Lydia at lunch, and talked to Scott during your shared free period. After school was over you hung out with Scott until he had to start getting ready for his game.

“I wish you didn’t have to go with Lydia” he pouted jokingly.

“It’s not that big of a deal Scott I’ll be back Sunday night,” you replied.

“I know but that is two whole days without you,” he answered.

“Exactly, it’s two days” you laughed, “You’ll be fine” you added.

“We can text, right?” Scott asked.

“Well as much as I would love to, Lydia would kill me, and there is no signal up there anyways,” you answered.

“This is about to be the longest 48 hours of my life,” Scott groaned.

You rolled your eyes, “It’s a good opportunity to have some bro time with Stiles, maybe you can finally watch Star Wars,” you remarked as you started to get up.

“Not so fast,” Scott said as he pulled you back down onto his bed and kissed you.

“Scott” *kiss* “I” *kiss* “Love” *kiss* “you, but” *kiss* “we have” *kiss* “to go” *kiss* you managed to say before he pulled away. You tried to look away from him knowing you were blushing hard. “Good luck tonight, not that you’ll need it. I love you and I’ll see you Sunday if not before then,” you said hugging him.

“I love you too Y/n, I’ll see you at the game,” he returned.

You went to Lydia’s house and went through the plan one last time. She went through a checklist to make sure that neither you nor Allison had forgotten anything. After that, it was time for the three of you to go to the game.

You watched the game and cheered for both Scott and Stiles. The team won 5-3. You were getting ready to go when Allison realized that she forgot to put her bag in Lydia’s car. Lydia was going to take her back and grab the bag. You decided to use the time to catch your boyfriend before leaving. You were weaving through the crowd when someone’s hand went over your mouth. “Nighty Night Y/n,” you heard an eerily familiar voice before feeling a pinch in your neck and seeing everything fade to black.

‘Hey Lyds, I’m really sorry but my mom called. She’s in the hospital. It’s not serious, but I’m staying here with her.’

Lydia text you back, ‘Do you want us to come with you, we can reschedule’

‘No don’t do that. Go have fun. We can hang out next weekend’

‘Are you sure? It’s not that big of a deal,’ she replied.

‘Don’t worry Lydia, it’s fine, just enjoy yourselves, I’ll see you Monday’

‘Okay, see you Monday’ She answered as she and Allison started to leave.

“What’s up?” Allison asked.

“Something came up and Y/n can’t come with us,” Lydia answered.

“Awe, that’s too bad, you still want to go?” Allison questioned.

“Of course, let’s do this, phones off” she replied, turning off her own phone.

Scott was dragged to a party with Stiles. It was for a friend of Stiles’, Heather. Scott didn’t really want to go, he couldn’t get drunk and he wouldn’t know anyone other than Stiles. But Stiles had insisted that it would make the time without you and Lydia more bearable. As Stiles entered he was greeted with a passionate kiss from none other than the birthday girl herself. He was quickly whisked away to the wine cellar. Scott reluctantly moved into the living room, grabbed a drink, and pulled out his phone. He smiled as he saw he had a text from you. ‘Hey babe, I’m leaving with the girls, turning my phone off now. Love you, see you Sunday!’

That was the last text sent before your phone was shut off and thrown in the dumpster behind the school. “That will buy me some time,” your kidnapper replied before driving away with you unconscious in the back seat.

Saturday

The day started off pretty normally for Scott. He went to text you before he remembered that you wouldn’t have service. He was glad that you were able to get away and relax with the girls. He had decided to go to the field with Stiles to practice Lacrosse. But he couldn’t shake a gut feeling that something was wrong. Stiles explained to Scott that there was a body found and that he was waiting on his dad to see if it was anything supernatural. Scott couldn’t help but be slightly uninterested. He was tired of death and the supernatural world, he was just a kid, and for once he wanted to act like it. Scott stared out the window of Roscoe, and wondered what you were doing right now.

........

You woke up and were caught completely off guard. It was dark and you were sitting knee-deep in water. There was a light above you. You must have been in a well. But you couldn’t remember how you would have got here. You went to reach for your aching head and realized that your hands were bound. You tried standing up splashing the water around which sent a shiver through your body. You wondered how long you had been missing. You weren’t that worried though, you were supposed to be with Lydia and Allison. They wouldn’t have left without you. And once Scott found out, he’d come for you. But then again, you were trapped in water, which meant he’d have a hard time following your scent. And you didn’t know how long you’d already been down here. You started to worry, trying to break your hands free so you could attempt to climb the wall. But that would take hours.

Meanwhile:

Scott and Stiles were at Stiles' house about to start their movie marathon when Stiles got a text. “Woah dude, you remember that body they found earlier?” Stiles asked, rereading the message in disbelief.

“Yeah, what about it?” Scott asked, wishing he could have one night off.

“It wasn’t just your average dead body. There was a significant blow to the head, his throat was slashed, and he was strangled by a garrote,” Stiles explained.

“Okay Stiles, but that doesn’t exactly sound supernatural, can’t we let the police handle this one?” Scott tried.

“Yeah I guess, but talk about overkill,” he answered, though he was planning on looking into it more after his best friend went home. Nothing was ever as it seemed in Beacon Hills, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t prepared for the worst-case scenario.

The two of them ate pizza and started to watch the first movie, however it wasn’t long after Scott finished eating that he fell asleep. Stiles took this time to do research on the latest murder.

Later that night:

You had finally managed to unbind your hands after what felt like hours of scraping them against the brick. You wanted to climb up the wall but it was now so dark that you could barely see your hand in front of your face. You decided that it would have to wait until morning. You sat back in the cold water, trying to find a safe position to sit in. The water was so cold. Your throat was sore from the screaming you had done earlier. You started crying as you realized the severity of your situation. You could die down here. You were going to die down here if someone didn’t find you soon. You thought about Scott. The only comfort that you felt was in knowing that he was out there looking for you. After a while, you drifted out of consciousness.

[smoochkooks]

—lost stars, part 2 (m.)

⟶ pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

⟶ genre: smut, angst, bits of fluff, (troubled) idol au, childhood friends to lovers

⟶ word count: 20k

⟶ summary: in dead hours of the night he stumbles upon the bars, reaching, searching, trying to feel something, for once forget about consequences and taste the bittersweet freedom. between sips of addiction and faint touches of nameless lovers he finds you again: his own long-lost star on a blackboard sky.

⟶ warnings: explicit sexual content, soft dom!jk but also bit possessive!jk, sub!reader, oral (f receiving), praise kink, jk calling oc his pretty girl, unprotected sex (stay safe kiddos!), creampie, implicit car sex, mentions of infidelity, smoking, both oc and jk are emotional mess sometimes.

✔ read part one here!

a/n: i’m sorry i keep you waiting for so long but it’s finally here. as i promised, by the end of october. this story has a really special place in my heart, i’ve had it in my drafts for over a year now. i hope you’ll enjoy it!

Twenty-two. No, twenty-three. Or maybe it was actually twenty-two? Jungkook starts counting again.  

Various, different certificates are aligned on the wall in front of him, every single one dedicated to the same man, sitting across the table with crossed arms and stern expression. It’s rather obvious his ego reaches far beyond the printed sheets of paper with his name written in swirly fonts. They are here just to make an impression, to fool people into believing that the pastel blue shirt he’s wearing and expensive watch on his wrist are the outcome of his hard work.  

He opens his mouth to say something, but it doesn’t reach Jungkook’s ears. He starts counting again; this time the number of letters on the first certificate.

“What do you suggest we should do then?”

The man whose achievements in marketing and public relations Jungkook currently attentively analyzes, is Lee Ilsug, or at least that’s what those diplomas indicate. To be honest, Jungkook couldn’t care less about his name or the list of accomplishments that made him be employed here.

He’s new in the company, that’s certain. Jungkook didn’t have to deal with him before but Yoongi had the unpleasantness though, when he needed to deny the rumours going all around the Twitter about his slightly too close friendship with a female singer he had collaborated with.  

Quoting Yoongi, Ilsung was pain in the ass. 

“The photo is blurry. It’s debatable whether it’s Jungkook-ssi or not.” Another voice, this time female, cuts in. Jungkook remembers her face fleetingly from some PR meeting he had attended before. It looks like she’s now Ilsung’s assistant. “I checked SNS. Fans are on Jungkook’s side, they don’t believe what that girl had written, which is a good situation for us to interfere and release a statement.”

“What do you think, Jungkook?”

It’s Sejin. He was the one who contacted Jungkook about the ruckus in the company that has been going on since morning. The case is simple: on the day he did his walk of shame out of your apartment, he stopped to light up a cigarette that happened to be another one of his cardinal mistakes he’s made in span of 24 hours. What started with getting the temptation and alcohol got better of him and sleeping with you, ended with someone taking a picture of him while smoking.

It’s truly a miracle the photo’s quality is moderately vague. His mom always tells him he was born under the lucky star but for Jungkook it’s more like fate was playing hide and seek with him. This time, he managed to blend into the shadows in time.

Ilsung clicks his tongue. It’s not a secret he hates his job yet cherishes the money he earns. He pushes his thick-rimmed glasses up his nose and leans over the table. He’s close enough for Jungkook to notice the fresh cut from shaving on his cheek and a small, golden cross hanging on his neck. 

He raises his brow, eyes trained on Jungkook. Cold, emotionless. Clearly, his ambitions don’t end on dealing with some idol’s reckless shenanigans. “Well? What’s on your mind, Jungkook-ssi? We are ready to release the statement denying rumours about the incident in an hour.”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek. “But that will be a lie then. I did smoke, it’s me on that picture.”

Next to him, he hears Sejin clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Jungkook, I know it’s unfair but we can’t let it affect yours or boys’ reputations right now. We are a month before the comeback.” he says and no matter how much he tries to make it sound neutral, pulling the ‘what about the rest of the members?’ card is usually the last straw to bend Jungkook.

Jungkook releases a long sigh at that. He feels unworthy. He let down his brothers again, made them worry about him countless times before and that’s what he offeres in return: disappointment. He cannot risk his bandmates’ good name because of his incautious behavior. They sacrificed too much to be where they are now to lose it over a silly scandal.  

“Do what’s best for the team.” he decides after a while.

Once he’s out of the office, his thoughts drift instinctively to you. Do you already know about the mess he created? Do you even search through social media, looking for the updates about him? No, you wouldn’t go there, he tells himself. He’s almost sure. He hopes those revelations won’t ever reach you.

Sejin breaks his chain of thoughts, stepping into the elevator after him. “What were you even doing in that part of the city so early?” he asks, staring at Jungkook’s reflection in the mirror.

“Does it really matter?”

Sejin’s features soften a little. He’s been with them practically since the beginning. Seen their best and worst, always by their side even when the whole world seemed to be against them. Piggybacking Jungkook out of the practice room because he complained about his feet being sore, joking behind the stage about trivial things when no cameras where around. They trusted him. And he’s never stopped believing in them.

“I told you that million times before. You are allowed to lead your life the way you want, Jungkook. I know how you feel, but as a public figure you have to be extremely careful, first and foremost. People don’t forget, nothing ever disappears from the Internet,” he says, or rather repeats the same mantra he’s been telling them since they broke into the mainstream and started being overly recognizable. “I am here to protect you but I won’t be able to do that if you don’t take care of yourself first.”

He places a strong hold on Jungkook’s shoulder and squeezes reassuringly. Jungkook releases a sigh and the door slides open behind them. “Thank you, hyung.”

“Always, Jungkook-ah. I’m feeling like a father of rebel teenager now.” Sejin laughs lightly to clear the heavy atmosphere, making Jungkook snort.  

“Hey, I’m twenty-two!”

Sejin ruffles Jungkook’s hair, ignoring younger’s grumbling protests. The walk into the spacious parking lot of the company and Jungkook suddenly stops in his tracks.  

“Does Bang already know about this?“ he asks matter-of-factly, although he’s sure what the answer will be. The confirmation he needs comes with a nod from Sejin. “Is he pissed?” he adds then.

Sejin raises his brows, looking down at him. “His golden boy let him down, what do you think? He might not be mad but he’s sure as hell disappointed.” He gestures to his car and Jungkook follows him without a word, imagining his boss’ sour expression next time he sees him. In Bang’s self-made ranking he’s sitting at last place right now probably.  

“Want to grab a proper breakfast with me? I’ve been called into the company while I was in bed. I didn’t even have time to finish my coffee.” Sejin offers, pulling Jungkook out of his thoughts.

“Okay.” Jungkook says, hopping in Sejin’s car. “You’re buying?” he asks, mustering a snickering smile even though he’s definitely not in the mood for joking.

Sejin rolls his eyes, fastening his seatbelt. “Don’t you think you own it to me for saving your ass once again?”

“But I’m your rebel teenager kid, remember?” Jungkook pouts. When he sees Sejin hesitating, he opts for another strategy. The one that never fails. “Rock-paper-scissors?”

“Deal.” 

Tonight, Jungkook pulls up in front of the club you’re working in with his car. It’s Friday night and he recalls you saying you work here every two weeks. He counted the days three times. There’s no way he made a mistake. He’s sober. And he has no intentions of getting drunk.  

You’re surprised when you see him. You haven’t spoken a word for a whole week since he walked out of your apartment. He seems happier when he approaches you, flashing a bunny-toothed smile like nothing ever happened. Maybe he’s good at pretending. That’s exactly what you told him to do - act like the night he stripped you bare and fucked you silly was merely a mirage.

In a way, you’re relieved he makes everything seem ordinary, even though it’s anything but normal.

He waits for you to finish your shift. Tells you he drove here with his car and your eyes involuntarily widen. When you’re standing in front of his black Mercedes Benz, you can’t help but gawk.  

“I don’t even want to know how much money this cost.” You take in the all-polished, black glory of his car, muttering “Holy shit” under your breath.

Jungkook chuckles to himself, gesturing for you to get in. You do it without a word, making yourself comfortable on the leather seat. If he manages not to make things awkward, you can do it to, acting as though he isn’t a well-known persona in your country with an addiction for unhealthy lifestyle.

He starts the engine and drives in the direction of your neighborhood, humming to himself the tune playing in radio. It’s awfully domestic, the way he navigates through the streets like he knows them like the back of his hand although you’re aware he’s glancing at his phone once in a while to check the directions. You catch yourself watching him from the corner of your eye with curiosity, biting your lip to suppress the urge to ask him million questions at a minute. Instead, you let him do whatever he has in mind. You can’t ruin this, you remind yourself.

Later that night, you’re sitting in his car in the darkness, parked on the rundown parking lot where no one’s standing expect for you. The only source of light is coming from the single street lamp nearby, illuminating delicately Jungkook’s features in dim, yellowish lighting.  

He doesn’t say much. He fumbles with the hem of his jacket almost absentmindedly and you know him well enough to sense there’s something plugging his thoughts. You call his name and he turns his head to the side. It’s too dark for you to spot the tiredness on his beautiful face, too dark to read from his eyes and find all the needed answers in them.

“Is everything alright?” you ask and it sounds awfully loud in a small space of his car. Despite the silent promise you made to yourself about keeping things between you civil, you can’t help but interfere.

Jungkook then whirls on his seat so he can face you fully, flashing you a smile meant to throw all your former worries away. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to sit with you for a while like that, if you don’t mind.”  

If anything, it doesn’t cure your concerns but you shove it to the back of your head for now. Nodding at his words, you fall into the distressing silence. The street lamp nearby goes out and if it wasn’t for the digital dashboard in Jungkook’s car, you would have been surrounded by darkness completely.  

Jungkook chuckles under his breath and you follow suit. The sudden change in the atmosphere should be taken as a sign to abandon this damned parking lot and go somewhere else, but he looks like he has other plans in mind. Hearing the soft whisper of your name, you start feeling like it all was meant to happen. Him appearing in front of the club, the lights going out and enabling you to read the true emotions from your faces – it’s all like fate is again playing tricks with you.  

You don’t know who moves first, crossing the invisible oceans between you and reaching homeland, but the next thing you feel is his lips on yours.

He tastes like the non-alcoholic beverage he drunk earlier, mixed with faint bitterness of his beloved cigarettes and something akin to mint, yet you’re drowning in it, in him, in the warmth of his breath on your wet lips.

You feel the world spiraling in front of your eyes, despite your soberity. You’re moving automatically; leaning into his touch and accepting the kiss with raw passion, welcoming his tongue in your mouth willingly. It should be alarming how good it feels to have him like this, in your arms, teeth scrapping your neck until you’re writhing in your seat. Breathless, he takes the hint, maneuvering your body until you’re straddling his lap.  

It feels dangerously familiar. You know what’s going to happen next, when he unzips your jacket and places his hands underneath your sweater, relishing in the way you shiver at the coldness of his touch. When he sinks his teeth in your neck and withdraws seconds before leaving a blossoming mark. Yet you make no vow to stop him.  

From this exact moment, it’s just a blur of hushed whispers, broken moans and quick caresses that leave you yearning for more. Jungkook acts like he knows your body inside and out, thrusting his fingers knuckle-deep into your heat until you’re keening and begging him for more. And he gives it to you with earnest, coaxing you into an orgasm with one last, final flick of his thumb on your sensitive bud.

Jungkook groans when you palm his bulge through the material of his pants, but he’s too desperate to feel your wetness around him to let you tease him any longer. When you sink down onto him, all of your rational thoughts fly away with the breathy moan you let out in unison with his choked gasp.

It’s fast and ragged, chasing the high that it’s both forbidden yet so craved. And it hurts, when tears well in your eyes, when you’re at the brick of pleasure and you know there’s no way in the world you’re going to experience a desire so raw and overwhelming with anyone, ever again. It hurts when Jungkook picks up the pace and fucks into you with ferocity and anger, because the world is unfair and he’s a slave in the system in which freedom means fucking you dirty in his car when it’s dark out.

And he hates it, hates it so much when you unveil in front of him, whimpering his name hoarsely and tightening around his cock deliciously. He swallows every sound you make with his mouth, clenching his teeth because the pleasure is right there, but he needs an extra push to throw himself over the edge. It’s his name on your lips and the whimper of “Inside, please” that finally makes him snap.

Then, there’s only guilt and laboured breaths. In his self-made list of mistakes, you’re aiming for the top.

Grocery shopping has never been your favourite thing to do.

You would never quite enjoy doing it, not due to the constant anxiety of forgetting about buying something even if you make a list of products beforehand, not when you don’t have enough money to buy a little extra than needed (thanks to the dear capitalistic world we live in).  

Right now, you’re standing in the middle of an aisle with cereal, trying to look as much casual as possible so people passing by wouldn’t suspect you to be a wanna-be thief. The cause of your distress sits at the very top shelf and there’s no way in hell you’ll manage to snatch that Reese’s Puffs without knocking everything over.  

Defeated, you raise your hand to take your second option (good, old Corn Flakes), but a familiar voice coming from the right stops you in tracks.

“Need some help?”  

Twirling on your feet, you’re now standing face to face with Kihyun – Minho’s friend from work. Smiling sheepishly, you nod. “I do, actually. Can you pass me these ones, please?”  

You feel stupid asking that but fortunately, Kihyun doesn’t seem to mind your awkwardness. You talked to him briefly a few times before thanks to Minho, who took his friendship with him as far as to go on a double date together.  

“So, how are you?” Kihyun asks, placing the cereal box in your cart.

“I’m good, thanks. I assume you’ve been also doing well,” He raises his eyebrows at that and you clarify, “Minho told me you got promoted lately. Congrats, chief Yoo.”

“Ah, yeah, thank you,” There’s a tiny bit of pink covering the apples of his cheeks when he waves his hand dismissively at your comment. “But it’s not that big of a deal.”

“I’m sure working in a homicide department is a big deal,” you say. “And I heard it requires some extra shooting training as well.” you add, alluding to what Minho has told you the day you read the message on his phone from someone named Soyeon.

To your surprise, Kihyun furrows his brows in a manner that could only mean he’s confused. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”  

Hiding your astonishment with a light laugh, you explain, “Don’t you go to the shooting range with Minho after work? He told me so a while ago.”  

Something akin to realization crosses Kihyun’s face. He shakes his head. “Yeah, we went there together once or twice but recently he’s training there our new recruit, Soyeon.”  

His words punch you right in the guts. Minho lied to you. He wouldn’t come up with that shitty excuse if he didn’t have something dirtier to hide, right? Maybe you’re exaggerating, but he certainly hasn’t been truly honest with you for a while now. It must be a reason behind his strange behavior.

“Are you okay?”  

For a moment you’ve forgotten you’re in the middle of the grocery store with your boyfriend’s friend. Shaking yourself off your unpleasant thoughts, you send Kihyun an apologetic smile.  

“I’m sorry. I just remembered I need to go to the pharmacist’s and they’re closing soon so I gotta hurry now.” you lie. He doesn’t look like he entirely bought your story but nevertheless, he bids you goodbye.  

You leave the store with half-empty shopping bag, raging headache and a torn heart.

They say silence can speak more than any exchanged words.  

It hovers in the air, heavy and overwhelming, a tension primed to snap at any moment yet it has never happened before. There’s always quiet, no hushed sentences, half-lies or stuttered confessions leaving quivering lips.  

Sometimes you wonder when will you have enough. When will you be able to resist, to say you’re hurting so bad it aches right in your heart, like there are tons of bricks lying on your chest, suppressing your breathing. And maybe this is the night.  

A few unread messages on your phone, next one popping up and the screen lights up. 

[1:23pm] jungkook:

i need you  

It pains, a dull ache and suddenly there isn’t enough air in the room.   [1:24pm] jungkook:

please  

He never begs. It doesn’t suit him. There is too much pride and power inside him to crawl in front of you, to fall to his knees and plead. Yet, you falter, shaking fingertips typing a quick response. When brain screams fuck you, you don’t deserve me, a sight of him makes all the rational thoughts go to hell.  

He stands in your door, slender body leaning against the frame. You haven’t seen him for a while, a week or maybe two. His skin is pale, sheer and delicate you worry it might break if you trail your fingers over it. There are bangs under his bloodshot eyes and you know he had trouble sleeping again. It hurts seeing him like this, beautiful and broken but you’ve always loved picking up the damaged pieces.

He smiles, a lopsided smirk you know oh so well, a dark amusement because here you are, pliant under his gaze, vulnerable under his every command.  

“Hello, doll.”  

It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you grimace. Nickname he uses only when you’re stripped bare for his liking, bend to his will. It means he’s been drinking. Probably the expensive whiskey you hate the taste of so much when it lingers bitterly on your tongue after each swipe of his mouth against yours. “Will you let me in?” he then asks although he already knows the answer.

It’s cruel of him how he uses your weakness. You hate seeing him like this, hate when he’s thrown apart and you’re the only one who knows how to fix him. That’s why you move away from the door in a silent invitation, biting your lip when you see his slouching posture and unsteady walk.  

It hurts when you help him sit on your bed and he smiles at you lazily, in all his beautiful yet broken glory. You almost don’t recognize him. It’s not your Jungkook. Your Jungkook would never drown his misery in alcohol, he would never sit in your room barely conscious, smelling of cheap bars and cigarettes.  

But you accept your fate the way it is.  

“I need to sober you up a little. I’ll go get you a glass of water, okay?” He hums in response, although you’re worried it might have not reach his ears at all.  

Jungkook looks up when your back, accepting the water and drinking it with eagerness. “You’re too good to me, you know that right?” he slurs a little once he’s done. “I don’t deserve you.” he adds after a moment, cupping your cheek with his unoccupied palm.  

You squeeze your eyes shut because you fear you might break down in front of him if you look him in the eyes. He strokes your skin, murming “I’m so sorry” all over again.  

You stay like that for a few beats of silence, breathing in each other’s presences until you hear Jungkook’s phone buzzing in the pocket of his jacket. Taking it out, you see ‘Jimin-hyung’ written on the screen. “Your friends are worried about you.” you murmur, nudging his side.

“Tell them to go to hell.” You hear him muttering under his breath. Sighing, you decide to exit the room and answer the call.  

“Jungkook? Where the fuck are you?!” Jimin’s angered, thick with Busan dialect voice rings in your ears, making you flinch. “You should’ve at least answer my text once so I would know you’re okay!”  

Mustering the courage, you take a deep breath and say, “Hi, it’s Y/N speaking. Jungkook’s friend.”  

There’s a pause on the other side, until your hear Jimin clearing his throat. “Oh, hi. Is Jungkook maybe with you?” he asks and you smile to yourself involuntarily noticing how his voice has changed once he realised he’s not speaking to his friend.  

“He is. Drunk, but in one piece.” you reply, sparing a glance at aforementioned Jungkook who’s now slumped down on your bed, probably fast asleep.

Jimin sighs with relief. “That’s good then. You know, we got into a little fight today and he suddenly disappeared without a trace, and we are right before the comeback so–”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me,” you interrupt his rushed rambling. “I’ll take care of him.”  

“Thank you, Y/N-ssi. It means a lot.”  

‘’I’ve been taking care of his ass practically since we were kids, so it’s not a big deal for me,” you chuckle lightly, even though you’re definetely not in the mood for jokes. “Well, maybe not in that way but still.”  

“I know. He told me about you.”  

Your eyes widen. “He did?” you ask, failing to hide the surprised tone of your voice.  

“Yeah, he did. When he first told us he met his childhood friend accidentally in the club he got drunk in, we didn’t believe him at first. But then he slowly started opening up more about you and even showed me some picture of you and him when you were kids.” Jimin says. “You know, Jungkook hasn’t been himself for quite a while. He kept pushing us away but ever since he met you, he’s started smiling again. Please, promise me you’ll never hurt him.”  

You release a shaky breath. “I promise.”  

It’s easy to promise such thing. Because you’re for sure going to end up being hurt first.

It’s your alarm that wakes you up the next morning.

The sight of Jungkook is long gone, the only proof he’s been here in your bed last night is an empty glass on your bedside table and a small note written on the napkin.  

Thank you for everything. I really don’t deserve you.  

Jungkook.

Sheets have gone already cold underneath your fingertips where he laid beside you just hours ago. You didn’t get much sleep the night, watching his beautiful, pale features illuminated by the moonlight slipping through your window. He looked so peaceful with his chapped lips slightly parted and in that moment, you couldn’t think of any reason to hate him and what he’s doing to you.

Later, when you’re finally out of uni, you come home and take a quick shower. It’s Wednesday and Wednesdays are reserved for your small dates with Minho. The guilt you’re feeling while getting dressed and fixing your makeup is eating you from the inside. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you almost don’t recognize the shallow of a girl you’re seeing.  

You are not a bad person, you keep reminding yourself, then why did you sleep with him that night? Let him crawl into your bed again and again after?

Minho waits for you outside in his car. He’s taking you to a new Thai restaurant and you manage to hide the frown on your face, because your dear boyfriend forgot you don’t like this type of food.  

“You look pretty tonight, babe,” he says once you’re inside, waiting for your orders. You smile at him briefly. “It’s really been a while since we went out together, hasn’t it?”  

At that, you nod curtly. It’s true, you haven’t seen each other last week at all. Minho ditched your usual Wednesday date in favor of staying at work for something important. It happened second or third time this month. You feel like you don’t have right to be mad at him. If anything, that’s what you deserve for lying to him behind his back.

The rest of the evening goes smoothly. Your food arrives, you act like you don’t feel nauseous chewing on your pad thai and trying to break out the taste with red wine. Minho babbles about the new Netflix series he’s started watching and you’re pretending to be intrested. Wednesday date at its finest.

Then, when you’re about to pour yourself another glass of wine, Minho stops you with his hand on yours. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something,”  You fight an urge to roll your eyes. He wants to discuss serious matters? What a change. “We’ve been together for eight months. My parents keep asking about you.”  

“Oh,” you blurt out. To hide your anxiety, you force out a breathy laugh. “So, what about them?” you ask, however you already know what the answer is going to be.  

“I thought we could visit them soon in Daegu over some weekend when you don’t have work,” he proposes, squeezing your hand as if to calm your nerves. It’s not doing much to put you at ease. “My mom has already started making plans what food she should make. They’re really excited to meet you.”  

You feign a smile. It should be a natural progression for couples to take things at a time, step by step but you can’t help but feel uneasy. Minho wants his parents to meet you, the girl who lets a certain raven-haired boy play with her heart and mess with her head. In a sick game where both parties are out of reach, you’re terribly losing.

“I’d love to meet your parents.” you say finally, almost breathless.  

“You don’t look very excited.” Minho comments with a smirk and you know he’s joking but the lump in your throat only grows.  

You smile meekly. “I’m just nervous, that’s all. What if they won’t like me?”  

“I’m sure they’re gonna love you. You don’t have anything to worry about.” he dismisses your concerns, reaching for the wine bottle to pour himself a glass. “I’ve got one more thing to tell you. I know it’s a lot for one evening but I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it for weeks now so since we have this opportunity now, I’m gonna use it.”  

Color drains from your face. What else is there to converse about all of a sudden? Biting the inside of your cheek, you give him a sign to continue.

“I’ll go straight to the point. I want you to move in with me,” The bomb explodes and you nearly drop your wine glass to the floor. “I know it might be a lot for your but I really, really want to see you every day in my bed. My apartment is big enough for both of us but once I get the promotion my boss talked to me about last week, we can look for something fancier.”  

You stare at him blankly. First his parents, now this? Minho from the beginning of your relationship was the one who liked to take things slowly. He didn’t kiss you until your third date, he waited unnecessary amount of time to have sex even though you told him over and over again you were more than ready to do it with him.

The sudden rush feels weird. As if sensing your discomfort, Minho clears his throat and asks, “Don’t you want to move in with me?”  

You notice the subtle change in his voice, the way he’s not as enthusiastic as he was a minute ago but you shove it to the back of your head. “I’m surprised,” you respond neutraly. “And of course I don’t mind living with you. I just thought you wanted to take things slow.”  

Minho clicks his tongue. “This has nothing to do with that. I’m not asking you to marry me, Y/N,” he chuckles but you don’t mirror the sentiment. “I think it would be more comfortable for you to live with me than your current cubby-hole.”  

He’s already irritated by your reaction and you know it’s better not to poke the bear but those three glasses of wine down your throat give you enough courage to disagree. “Your place is further from my university and work. Not to mention I have a five minutes long walk to the underground now and it would take longer for me to get there in your area.” you point out.

“You can get a driving license then finally.”  

You frown. “What do you mean ‘finally’? You know damn well I can’t afford it now with the job I have and student loan. We talked about it before.”  

Minho is aware that with your current financial situation you’re barely making ends meet and you can’t let yourself have another, bigger expenses. But you’re fine on your own, you don’t mind living where you do because that’s the result of your independence. You showed your parents you are able to study and work without their extra help. You’re proud of yourself for that.

“Now you’re literally making excuses. Just say you don’t want to move in.”  

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you try to reason. “I’m not ready for such a big step yet. I need more time to think about it.”  

Minho snorts, rolling his eyes. “What else is there to think about? Either you say yes or no!” His raised tone catches attention from the family sitting nearby and they send curious glances in your direction.

“Stop being so loud, please. We are in a restaurant for God’s sake.” you whisper-shout.  

“Do I look like I give a fuck?” he snorts, obnoxious and annoyingly snarky.

You stay quiet for a moment, debating whether you should give up entirely and hang a white flag or wait for the atmosphere to clear on its own. But you’re so, so tired. Tired of being lied to. Tired of always having to choose your words carefully and bending to his will.  

“You know, I met Kihyun the other day at grocery store,” Minho doesn’t seem much interested in your inquiry, still deeply frustrated with your tantrum. He simply hums, unfazed. “I congratulated him on his promotion. He for sure needs to visist shooting range more now, doesn’t he?”  

Minho arches his brow. “Yeah, I told you he goes there with me and that new recruit.”  

It’s ironic, how easily he can lie to you straight in the eye. But you’re strong enough now to fight back.  “That’s interesting actually, because Kihyun said something totally different.” you say languidly, watching your boyfriend narrowing his eyes.

“And what is that?”  

“He said you’re going there only with your new recruit, Soyeon. The one sending you messages on your private phone.”  

Minho gapes at you for a few short seconds and then, bursts into laughter. “What are you trying to insinuate here, honey?” he asks.  

The petname sounds mocking this time. Ignoring his lighthearted approach to the situation, you dodge a bullet. “I’m not insinuating anything yet. I just pointed out that you lied to me.”  

“Lied? That’s bullishit. I would never lie to you.”  

“But you did, Minho. The day I asked you who Soyeon was after reading the message on your phone. You said you’re visiting shooting range with her and Kihyun after work sometimes. Turns out it’s just you and her after all. Isn’t that a lie?” you press.  

Minho doesn’t like being backed into the corner. When you confronted him first, he thought he had everything under control. Now, he’s losing it and he isn’t used to being that helpless.

“So what? Maybe I told you that so you wouldn’t freak out and think I’m cheating on you. Because that’s all it is about, right? You think I’m fucking someone behind your back.” he snaps, making you wince.  

“I didn’t say that.” you counter but there’s no use for that. You stepped into the lion’s den.  

He aprubtly stands up from his chair and the cutlery on your table clutters. “You know what? I’m done. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit anymore.” He withdraws his wallet from the pocket of his jacket and throws a few bills onto the table.  

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips. “Your’e leaving? Just like that?”  

“Yeah. Are you going with me or not?”  

You shrug your shoulders. “I guess someone has to finish this bottle. It would be a shame to waste such expensive wine.” you say, mustering a sarcastic smile.

Minho doesn’t utter anything more to you. He nods and exits the restaurant, leaving you sitting by the table alone. Despite the stares, hushed whispers and an urge to run away and hide from the audience, you stay a little longer and drink up that damned bottle of wine until there’s no droplets left inside.  

Once you’re outside, you inhale greedily the fresh air. Your head spins a little and you’re debating whether to take an Uber home or just walk thirty minutes on your own to sober up a little. You choose the latter.  

You don’t know what makes you dial his number. You’ve never done that before. He was the one calling you in the middle of the name and begging without words to tend his wounds. Tables have turned, and here you are.  

You call once, twice. After the fifth attempt you give up, showing your phone into the pocket of your coat. As the first tear rolls down your cheek, you realise he would never be there to pick up your pieces.

Three missed calls from: Jungkook

[11:11pm] jungkook:

I’m so sorry y/n. I couldn’t pick up the phone cause we had late practice  

Please call me back. I’m worried

Two missed calls from: Jungkook

[11:36pm] jungkook:  

At least text me if you’re okay

Please  

[11:39pm] me:

I’m fine

[11:39pm] jungkook:  

Thank God

You sure you don’t wanna talk?

[11:41pm] me:

Maybe next time

[11:41pm] jungkook:

Okay  

Night, miss grumpy  

You’re sitting in your favourite cafeteria, typing furiously on your laptop the last paragraph in your assignment. Your philosophy proffesor has been a bitch lately, telling you to write essays about the most uninteresting stuff she could possibly think of. And here you are, writing about Hegel’s triads, reminding yourself the semester soon will be over and so will be your mandatory philosophy classes.

Taking a moment to sip on a caramel macchiato you ordered, you notice a message popping up on your lockscreen.  

[10:45am] jungkook:  

Do you have time now?  

I need to tell you sth  

It’s been two days since your date with Minho. You’re still mentally flogging yourself for calling Jungkook that night repulsively because of your tipsiness. In that exact moment, he was the only person on your mind you could talk to. Once the fresh air cooled down your emotions, you realised how stupid your idea was. 

With slight resistance (and raced heartbeat), you type a response. 

[10:46am] me:  

I guess  

[10:46am] jungkook:  

Great. I’m gonna call you now

Eyes widening, you stare at your phone. What is so important that he cannot just text you instead? Not even a minute later, you hear buzzing. Exhaling shakily, you answer it.  

“Hi, Miss Grumpy,” Jungkook says and you could tell by the tone of his voice he’s in a good mood. He sounds like the old Jungkook you know well. It’s a pleasant surprise. “What’s up?”  

“You called me to ask how am I doing?”  

Jungkook chuckles and something inside you flutters hearing that. “And what if I did?”  

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “Let’s just say it’s unusual of you. Shouldn’t you be at some dance practice right now?” you ask.

“We just ended a company meeting. And this is exactly the reason why I’m calling you.”  

“Should I be scared?”  

”Not at all. I’m gonna move straight to the point,” he says and your pulse involuntarily quickens. “Are you free next weekend?”  

You bite your lip. There’s a part of you that wants so bad to counter with “What? Do you need a booty call?” but you don’t let your facade break that easily. Instead, you tell the truth. “Yeah, I am.”  

“Would you like to go with me to Busan then?”  

You nearly spill the coffee onto your laptop. “Oh.” You can’t quite hide the surprise in your voice. You would never expect him to propose you such thing, yet here you are.

It’s been a while since you were home. Not like you don’t want to see your parents, it’s actually the opposite. The reason you haven’t been in Busan for months is simple: you don’t have extra cash on the side to afford a two-way train ticket.  

Sensing your bewilderment, Jungkook takes your silence as a sign to explain further his sudden proposition. “Our company gave us few days off to relax before final comeback preparations so I decided I could go home,” It’s what he says and unsure of what to answer with, you only hum in response. “You told me some time ago you haven’t seen your parents since Christmas so I thought you might accompany me.”  

Something squeezes in your chest hearing that. You fail to hide the smile creeping on your features and despite the many obstacles that should be a warning sign for you to say no, you find yourself reminiscing in the idea of spending a weekend at home with Jungkook. Just like old times.  

“Okay. I agree.”  

Upon hearing your response, Jungkook breathes out a sigh of relief to the phone. “I thought you would ditch me.”  

“Excuse me? Who do you think I am? I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to eat my mum’s bulgogi.”  

You can’t ignore how you’re feeling, cheeks flushed and a silly smile stretching on your lips. But there’s still that bugging thought present at the back of your head, reminding you of your illicit affair and every mistake you’ve made so far. Maybe agreeing to a small trip down childhood memory lane is one of them.  

Right now, sitting in a cafeteria and talking on the phone with Jungkook about the details and your mum’s cooking skills, you pretend like you’ve turned back the time and everything else is a mere drawback to deal with later.

“I can’t believe I agreed to do that.”  

That, is a blatant lie. You know damn well why you’re standing on the pavement in front of the building you live in as Jungkook pulls up with his high-priced, straight-from-the-salon black Mercedes. Something ignites in your lower stomach at the mere memory of what you’ve done there inside last time.

When he exits the car, you disregard as best as you can the aloof feeling in your chest, seeing him adjusting his bucket hat further down. This is the life he’s living, you remind yourself. If he wants to minimize the risk of people with preying eyes recognizing him.

Dressed in all black, he comes up to you and lifts his head up. That’s when you see him fully for the first time since he stumbled through your drunk and barely conscious. He smiles widely approaching you, not an ounce of uncertainty in his movements when he wraps his arms around you in a bear hug.  

“What’s that for?” you mumble.

“Just missed you.”  

He smells like the flowery fabric softener you know he likes. It almost lulls you into paying no mind to the thumping of your heart against your ribcage and redness blossoming on your cheeks.  

It almost makes you forget he’s not yours, and you will never be his.  

You’re the first one to withdraw, stepping away. “You’re such a sap.” It’s the first thing that comes to your mind to say after such intimate moment  – twist it into something without depth and meaning you’re so afraid of facing.

He shrugs, still smiling. “I’m just happy we’re going to spend some time together with our families.”  

You know he is. Jungkook has always been a family person. Moving out at a ripe age of fourteen paradoxically strengthened the bond he has with his parents and brother.  

He picks up your bag from the ground and throws it into the trunk next to his. Getting into the car, you mutter, “You know, I tweet ‘eat the rich’ every two days but you are safe from my hatred for high class as long as you drive my ass with this expensive car to Busan.”

Jungkook chuckles, starting the engine. “Thanks for your kindness, love. Good to know I’m pardoned.”  

“Jokes aside, I mean it though. I might want Jeff Bezos to rot in hell but at the same time I think you deserve that money because I know you worked hard to achieve it.” you say, buckling your seatbelt.  

He spares you a quick glance and arches his eyebrow. “I didn’t know you are actually a fellow comrade Y/N, Miss Grumpy.”  

“Oh, boy. Follow me on my private account. You’ll see then how radical I can get.”  

You earn another laugh from him and you find yourself getting more and more comfortable in the situation, sitting in his car and venturing onto a weekend trip to your hometown. The perspective of spending a couple of hours with Jungkook in the same car doesn’t seem to bother you as much as it did the whole week before.

Tapping the unknown rhythm on your thighs, you reach to press what you think might be the radio button. Your aren’t good with modern technology, so you smile triumphantly to yourself, hearing the first tunes blasting from the speakers. 

The slow pop-ballad ends and radio host announces next song as ‘fan favorite’. You look out of the window for a short while just to be brought back to the reality by the sound playing in the background. You know this song more than well.

“No. We are not listening to this.” Jungkook reaches to change the radio station with a speed of light, but you swat his hand away.  

“Jesus christ, stop being so dramatic. I love Blood Sweat and Tears! It’s a masterpiece.” you protest.

“I thought you don’t listen to our songs.”

You gasp, placing a hand on your chest. “Excuse me? I’ve been to your concert twice, dumbass. And I’m saving up money for another.”  

That, is true. You like listening to BTS not because of Jungkook (though he might one of the reasons you fancy them) but it’s their music and message in general. Now, since they’re over their badboy phases and objectifying women in every ‘love song’, you’re fond of them even more.

You start humming Namjoon’s part when Jungkook cuts in. “Okay, then. Who’s your bias?” he asks.  

You don’t miss the way he seems to grip the steering wheel tighter. Of course he would be that petty to ask you this. To entertain yourself a little, you quip, “Take a wild guess.”  

“It has to be Jimin-hyung.” he says right away.

You shake your head. “Boo. Try again.”  

“Namjoon-hyung. You bit your lip when he started rapping his part.”  

“That’s bullshit. Namjoon’s hot but not my type. And you should keep your eyes on the road, buddy.” Placing your fingers on his chin, you turn his head away.

Jungkook sighs. “Who is it then?”  

“Taehyung.”  

Hearing your response, he snorts. “I should’ve known that.”

“And why is that?” you ask, trying to hide your amusement.

“Because he’s the most good looking from us all. He dresses stylishly,” You could tell by the tongue in his cheek you’re irking him right now. Adding to the irony, Taehyung’s part in the song comes blasting from the speakers. “He has a nice, deep voice.” Jungkook adds and before he can name another positive trait of his friend, you chime in.  

“Is somebody jealous?”  

Though you’re clearly making fun of him, he decides to chuckle like he doesn’t give a fuck anyway. “Jealous? Of Tae? Please. I have no reason to be.”  

Smirking to yourself, you find his demeanor too entertaining. “That’s good then. Because I think you’re handsome too. And I love your voice when you sing.” you say, turning your head to the side to observe his reaction.  

No matter how much he tries to hide it, clenching his jaw and giving you an eye roll, there’s no use for that. The blush covering his cheeks gives him anyway. His agony ends with one last beat of the song.  

Hiding a yawn behind your palm, you lean back onto your seat. Last night you didn’t get as much as you’d like to and your four hours long drive to Busan seems like a great opportunity for a compensatory nap.  

Drifting off to sleep, the last thing you remember is Jungkook’s hands on the steering wheel and his soft voice humming the song playing in the radio.

“Hey, sleeping beauty, wake up. We’re almost there.”  

Slowly opening your eyes, you’re met with familiar-looking streets of your hometown, Busan. You jerk abruptly, straightening your posture. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?” you ask, looking to your left at Jungkook.  

He shrugs in response. “You looked like you didn’t want to be waken. And trust me, I know what it feels like to be brought back to reality from a good nap too early.”  

You don’t dwell on that more. Instead, you look out of the window, greedily drinking in the city. You’re now driving through downtown, passing by shining skyscrapers. Both yours and Jungkook’s houses are situated in a more peaceful area of Busan, closer to the sea. That’s why you spent most of your childhood and teenage days there as long as the weather was merciful.  

Spring has always been your favourite time of the year but spring in Busan hits different. You don’t have an occasion to sit by the sea and watch the sky burning in orange and red in Seoul. Here, where you used to grow up, spring is the cherry tree blossoming, your mum planting vegetable seeds in her small garden behind your house, you and Jungkook smoking cigarettes underneath the pier while the sun hides  behind the horizon.

“Did you tell your parents you’re coming?” Jungkook’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.  

“No, I didn’t. I want it to be a surprise for them.”  

“Oh, that’s cute.” he comments curtly and turns right. You’re approximately thirty minutes until you reach your destination. “I need to talk with you about one more thing before we get there.”  

You focus your sight on him, however he seems to avoid your eyes. You give him a sign to continue. “Go on.”

Jungkook rubs his forehead with his hand and then sighs. It’s a nervous habit of his, you recognize. “I just want to apologize for causing you so much trouble. Not only last time but in general,” He stops at the red light and cocks his head to the side to look at you. “I acted like a complete dick and you don’t deserve to be treated like that. I’m sorry for everything. I thought this small trip here would be some sort of redemption for me, I don’t know.” The lights turns to orange, then to green and he focuses his eyes on the road again.

Reaching over the gearshift, you place a hand on his thigh to get his attention. When he peeks at you with the same, round, sparkly eyes you’ve grown to adore, all you can do is smile softly. “I’m okay, Kook. If that’s what you need, I don’t mind helping you. If only it means you’ll be okay too.”  

Perhaps he notices the sadness in your eyes when you say it. Perhaps he can tell your smile is not the happiest he’s ever seen. If he does, he chooses to stay silent. Instead, he nods. Taking his action as a sight to withdraw, you straighten on your seat.  

“There’s one more anything, actually,” Jungkook adds after a while.  

“What is it?”  

“You’re invited to a party.”  

“What party?” you ask, brows furrowed.

‘’We are celebrating Junghyun’s engagement.” he says casually.

Eyes widening, you let out a shocked gasp. “What?! Your brother got engaged?” 

Jungkook sends you a look. “Jealous, buttercup?”  

You roll your eyes. “I told you I had a crush on your brother when I was ten. It’s been twelve years since then. Twelve!” you exclaim, but he only smirks in response.  

The reason you liked Junghyun as a kid was simple: he was your best friend’s older brother. He was just there yet unreachable at the same time.  

(And he didn’t have as many pimples as Jungkook.)

But Junghyun getting married? That is a news to you. You clearly remember him telling you one day he would never form a serious relationship before he reaches thirty. Looks like he made up his mind.

“I’m just pleasantly surprised he decided to settle down. Junghyun has always been more of a free soul when it comes to dating. I even remember your mum throwing him a tantrum during barbecue because of this.” you say.

“Honestly, I’m not that shocked. You should’ve seen him looking at Hyerin during our Christmas dinner. This boy is whipped.” Jungkook chuckles.  

“Your parents must be happy.” you comment absentmindedly.

He nods, the corners of his mouth stretching in a small smile. “Yeah, they are. They really like Hyerin. And considering they won’t be getting grandchildren anytime soon thanks to my line of work–” he trails off, “–they are even happier that hyung is settling down.”  

The air seems heavy now inside Jungkook’s car. He said an obvious thing you were aware of but something aches in your chest at the thought.

You will never understand why there’s so much stigmatization surrounding idols dating other people. Wanting to be loved by someone is a natural, human need. Prohibition won’t magically stop them from catching feelings.  

But there’s also another side of the story – the one Jungkook referred to. In his line of work even if there are no obstacles, it’s hard to maintain a long-lasting relationship. And he knows that.  

You still remember vividly his first girlfriend. Her name was Eunbi and she was one of their manager’s daughter. Her dad used to take her to the MV sets, introduced her to the boys because she was a fan of them. And that’s how she met Jungkook.  

Jungkook, age seventeen, was too shy to hold a proper conversation and keep eye contact with a girl at the same time but somehow, him and Eunbi got along pretty quickly. They shared a sympathy for the same video games and for Jungkook back then it was enough to fall head over heels for her. She was his first kiss as he told you (”First real one, because I don’t count that peck Jisoo gave me in fifth grade as a kiss.”)  

After that moment you decided you’d never like Eunbi. Not because you were furiously in love with him, no.

You just didn’t want to see him form such a close bond with anyone else but you.

Their fairytale love story ended when Eunbi’s father found out about their secret randez-vous. Jungkook sulked for a week and then eventually got over Eunbi.  

(And he was again texting you about that video game you had no interest in but you pretended to be a good substitute for Eunbi and her nerdiness you lacked.)

“What are you thinking about?”  

You’re standing on the red light again. Glancing at Jungkook, you find him staring right back at you. “I’m wondering whether I’m invited to the wedding.” you lie.

“Of course you are. I’m sure hyung is going to do it officially tomorrow,” he answers with a grin. “I think Taehyung is coming too. He loves weddings.”  

Narrowing your eyes, you reply with a saccharine sweet voice, “It’s about time you introduce me to your bandmates. Especially Taehyung-oppa.”

“Oppa?”

You bite your lip. There’s no doubt you did that on purpose. You find it rather amusing to see Jungkook so worked up over such a silly thing. You wonder how far you can go before he finally snaps.  

Smirking to yourself, shrug your shoulders. “The light’s green. Watch the road, Kookie.”  

Jungkook huffs, shaking his head. It’s approximately fifteen minutes until you reach your destination. “I’m sure you will be delighted to meet him.” he says with enough amount of sarcasm for you to know he’s irritated.

“Oh, I will be over the moon.”  

“Good.”  

“Amazing, even.”

You hope he doesn’t notice you failing to maintain a serious expression.

You moved with your parents to your new house in Busan at the age of eight, two ponytails, overalls and sparkly sneakers every kid wanted to have adoring your small frame, a look of pure concern worrying your childish, chubby features. 

It was a quiet neighborhood, on the suburbs of the town, a row of similarly looking terraced buildings and small gardens in front of them, every single one akin to the other. There was nothing distinctive about the area, it screamed dullness and tedium but for years you have grown to call this place home.

You know every corner here inside out. A local grocery store owned by a lovable, elder woman known as Miss Kim, who always has spare candies underneath the counter for children who come to buy something for their parents. Next to the store, there is a florist’s. Your first, high school part-time job. The intense smell of roses makes you nauseous to these days.

There is also your primary school, huge backyard behind it with a run-down playground. You never minded it though, spending there probably too much time for your parents liking. Many memories were made there. First, innocent childish peck placed on your cheek from a 6th grader named Jinyoung. Twisted ankle, tears, pain and regret because you decided to jump off the highest step of the climbing frame one Friday afternoon after classes. A punch to the face of school’s bully Dongin, who called your new pair of Converse trainers ugly.

It was exactly fourteen days before the end of August when you met Jungkook.

You had been living in the new house for almost a month but still felt too insecure to explore the neighborhood. Most of your time you were spending inside, missing your old friends and reading books to distract your attention from the approaching start of the second semester in school.  

It was probably one of the last scorching-hot days of the year and you were sitting in your garden alone, family’s cat named Leo purring on your lap, when all of a sudden a ball bounced on the grass right in front of you, landing perfectly at your feet and almost scarring Leo to death.  

And then, you looked up and saw him.

A pair of big, black doe-like eyes hidden behind a fringe of onyx hair staring at you through the fence curiously. The boy was not much older than you, probably around your age. He was wearing a striped football t-shirt with some popular team name.  

You fidgeted slightly on the pavement where you were sitting, glancing at the boy shyly like you didn’t know why he was looking at you so intensely. You noticed a small scar on his left cheek, his knees were bruised, splashed with dirt just like his sneakers.  

“Can you give me my ball?” he asked suddenly, startling you.  

Your eyes widened. Of course he would talk to you, you scolded yourself, he wants his ball back.

When you didn’t answer immediately, he continued, “I kicked my ball here by an accident. Can you give it to me?” He pointed at the object lying at your feet.  

You nodded and picked up the ball from the ground. You threw it over the fence, so it landed directly on the other side.

“Thanks.” the black-haired boy said. “I’m Jungkook, by the way. What’s your name?”  

“___.” you responded and the boy, Jungkook, grinned at you friendly, showing his bunny-like smile. He looked cute.  

“Bye, ___! See you tomorrow!” he beamed and headed back to his house.

Tomorrow. He wanted to meet up with you and what? Play football? You were petrified, as the eight-years-old girl should be after hearing such thing from a boy.

And just like he promised, Jungkook visited you the next day. He took you to that playground behind your new primary school. You came home with bruised legs and splotches of dirt on your skirt, to your mother’s dismay.

You also came home with a content grin plastered on your face and a new friend.

Unexpectedly, Jungkook appeared to be a pleasant company and you found yourself enjoying his boyish bickering while fulfilling the rest of the summer break doing things your old friends would consider inappropriate for a girl.

You never thought you could be friends with someone like Jungkook. He was a boy, for God’s sake, and your eight-years-old-barbie-phase-self absolutely despised boys. But months passed quickly and you both found yourselves stuck to each other sides. Something in your relationship simply clicked.

The neighborhood you grew up in isn’t a suburban area but it definitely seems more peaceful than busy streets of downtown. You pass by local church, miss Kim’s store and the big, luxurious house owned my Gwon family you dreamt of living in when you were a kid.  

And then, approximately two hundred meters further, there is your house.  

“Here we are.” Jungkook says, pulling up at his parent’s driveway. They left the gate open, anticipating their son’s arrival.  

Jungkook hands you your belongings, offering you sheepish smile. “I thought that once you unpack and eat dinner, we could go to the beach together,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “Of course, only if you want to.”  

You don’t give his proposition a second thought. “I’d love to.”  

He grins in response and you take it as a sign to leave and finally meet your parents. From the distance you see your mother in the garden, dressed in her usual clothing – black and red checked shirt and cropped denim pants she wears while gardening.

She doesn’t notice you yet, too busy pulling weeds from her precious tulips. You know her better not to creep behind her like that, so you take a deep breath and shout, “Eomma! It’s me!”  

She stands up and twirls around to face you. Her eyes visibly widen, like she actually thought her mind is playing tricks on her and she might have misheard you.  

“Good Lord, Y/N, sweetie, is that really you?” She throws away her gloves and jogs up to you, enveloping you immadietly in a bear hug. “I missed you so much. Why didn’t you say anything you’re coming?”  

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” you mumble. “Jungkook took me with him.”  

At that, your mother pulls away. She arches her brows. “Jungkookie is home as well?” she asks, earning a nod from you in response. “You’re talking with him again?” Her voice is laced with apparent bewilderment but that’s exactly what you expected her reaction to be like.  

Your mother is aware you and Jungkook haven’t been keeping in touch for three long years. She was basically your only source of information about him (besides Twitter) thanks to her close friendship with his parents.  

“That’s quite a long story. I will tell you everything later.” you say. Well, maybe not entirely everything. You’re for sure going to miss out the parts you’re not proud of.  

Your mother doesn’t press you more about it. Instead, she puts her arm around your shoulders and pulls you to her side. “It’s your lucky day sweetie, because we have your favorite bulgogi for dinner. Honey, come here quick!” she shouts and you chuckle, hearing your father responding with: “What is it again?”.

The door to your house creak open, revealing your flustered dad. His expression morphs into a genuine smile when he spots you. “Is it really my daughter or are my eyes deceiving me?” he asks.  

‘’Your eyesight is fine, appa. It’s really me.” You come up and give him a small hug. He was never the affectionate type of parent but once you moved out, he let his facade break a little.  

From where you’re standing now, you have a clear view of Jeons’ house. Here, fourteen years ago, sitting on your porch, you met Jungkook for the first time. You see his window upstairs, alligned perfectly with yours. You wonder if he’s already there, inside, unpacking in his blue-painted childhood room.  

(What if it isn’t painted blue anymore?)

“Come on, let’s go. You’re probably starving.” your mother says, pulling your mind back to the present.  

Walking into your house, all you can think about are his tears-filled eyes when you were bidding him goodbye almost ten years ago in his blue bedroom.

It takes you more or less thirty minutes to reach the bay.  

When you were younger, you used to ride there by bikes practically every single day during summer. You loved sitting on the beach and observing people enjoying their time; swimming in the sea, kids building sand castles and their mums trying to relax among childlike chatter and the smell coming from nearby fishmonger’s store.

It was Jungkook who discovered the spot underneath pier. His curiosity only a twelve-year-old can posses led him there one day after school. At first, you were rather reluctant to go and didn’t mirror his excitement but once he actually showed you it, you changed your mind completely.  

It was a perfect place to hide from the world. You called it a ‘temple’ because it really felt like no one beside you knew about its existence, and that’s what made it sacred to you. When Jungkook moved away you were left to go there by yourself. Without him, it always felt like it was something missing.  

Right now, sitting here feels like you’ve you’ve turned back the time.  

It’s like you’re eighteen again, running away from the whole world, starting your own rebellion with a cigarette caught between your lips and sun disappearing behind the horizon. Listening to the songs Jungkooks had saved on his old iPod and catching up with everything that happened during the last few months when he was absent in your life. 

When you were eighteen you didn’t even know how to smoke properly, blowing out the fume too quickly and stiffing a cough so Jungkook wouldn’t laugh at you. Now it’s a different story.

Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you notice how much he’s changed physically over these five years that have passed. Gone is the baby fat on his cheeks, replaced with sculpted jawline and prominent nose. His hair is longer, falling on his forehead. There’s more piercings on his ears, an expensive watch wrapped around his wrist.  

He looks breathtaking. It never occurred to you before just how beautiful Jungkook really is up close, when there’s no flashing cameras around and make-up covering every imperfection on his face with concealer.

This is your Jungkook. The same one whose competitive nature never let you win any of his computer games, who called you after their debut showcase with quivering voice, who always treated you as his equal even when other boys were making fun of him for being friends with a girl. Your Jungkook, who’s too good for this world to be treated so unfairly.  

“I think Minho is cheating on me.” you blurt out.  

It’s been sitting on your tongue for weeks and now you finally let the words slip. You don’t see his reaction but from the sharp intake of breath you assume it’s not something he’s expected to hear from you.

“Few weeks ago I read a message on his phone from some girl asking when he will be free next time,” you continue before you could stop yourself. “He’s been meeting with her alone behind my back this whole time and I didn’t notice anything until now.” A pair of arms wrap around your frame. Jungkook presses a fleeting kiss to the crown of your head. “I don’t even know if that’s true or I’m overreacting but I just can’t understand how he can lie to me one day and the next propose to move in with him.”  

You don’t realise you’re crying until you feel Jungkook hugging you closer to him. You burry you face into his chest as sob after sob shakes your body. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispers, stroking your hair. “I’m here.”  

Few minutes pass until you calm down, wiping your tear-stained cheeks with your hand. Jungkook offers you a tissue and you thank him with a small smile. You can only imagine how ridiculous you look right now, with smudges of mascara underneath your eyes and red nose. Not a sight for sore eyes.

“I’m sorry. I just needed to get it off my chest.” you say after a moment.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Y/N. If you need to talk about it, I’m here for you. I’m still your friend, right?” Jungkook asks, meeting your eyes.

You nod, although he’s anything but friend for you. “Right.”  

Because friends don’t console each other with burning touches on bare skin. They don’t give into carnality and submit to pleasure, putting it before everything else.  

From the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook’s jaw clenching. “I’m gonna kick his ass when I meet him.”  

Before you could stop yourself, you mumble, “He should probably kick yours, too.”   

Jungkook visibly stiffens, hearing your words. He avoids your eyes, staring down at his lap instead. You wonder what he’s thinking about now. Does he regret his actions? Do you regret letting it happen? No matter how much you know you did wrong, there’s a part of you longing for more. Because with Jungkook, you felt alive. Minho could never compare.

Reuniting with Jungkook after three years made you realize just how much you needed him back in your life. You actually stopped being mad at him the moment he stood in your room for the first time that night, disheveled and sleepy.  

You could love him. Perhaps you’ve always did. But he cannot give you more. Nothing besides bitter-sweet pleasure between the sheets.  

It’s Jungkook who speaks first.

“I might not be the best man in the world but I would never, ever hurt you like Minho does,” he says and you know he means it. He stares at you intensely. “You do believe me, right?”  

“I do.” you whisper truthfully.

He then leans closer and when you think he might actually kiss you, he places a small peck on your forehead. ‘’Good,” he murmurs, still inches from your lips. “Come on, let’s go. It’s getting late and I can practically hear my mum already complaining she doesn’t have enough time to spend with her son.”  

You nod aabsentmindedly at his words.

There’s a tough conversation for you to have once you’ll be back in Seoul again. Finding out about Minho’s lies was a point of no return for you. It made you realise you’ve been on this path with your relationship for a while now, missing signs or not paying enough attention to the details.  

But what is even more disturbing to you, is that you didn’t let Jungkook warm your bed out of simple frustration or heartache. You did it because you wanted him. And that thought scares you the most.

The first thing Jungkook hears in the morning when he wakes up is the high-pitched chatter and the clutter of pots coming from the kitchen.  

He sighs to himself, staring at his blue ceiling. The clock on his bedside table reads 10am and at this rate, it looks like he won’t be getting any more sleep, not when his mum and soon-to-be sister-in-law are making a fuss downstairs preparing for the party.  

The strong smell of homemade food invades his senses as soon as he enters the kitchen. He spots his mum putting something in the oven, her usual red and white polka-dot apron adoring her form. Hyerin is right next to her, busy cutting some vegetables and listening tentatively to her mother-in-law’s babbling.  

“Good morning.” Jungkook says in a groggy voice followed by a yawn.  

“Morning.” Hyerin quips, flashing him a smile.

Jungkook’s mother barely acknowledges his presence, too busy moving around the kitchen and making sure nothing is burning or overcooking. Feeling the first rumble of his stomach, Jungkook opens the fridge and stares blankly at its contents.  

Miss Jeon runs her house by the rule the more, the better when it comes to preparing food for special family occasions. Hence why there’s so many different type of products lined up in front of him, just begging to become a remedy for his empty stomach.  

“Nu-uh, don’t even think about it!” she chimes in, closing the fridge in front of Jungkook’s face and crushing his dreams about having egg toasts for breakfast. He stares at her with confused expression. “Order yourself something for breakfast, please. We need kitchen to ourselves right now.”  

Knowing better not to argue with his mother, Jungkook sighs in defeat and opens the food delivery app on his phone. He chooses the first option that comes to his mind that won’t take too long to make and slumps down onto the couch.  

“Eomma, where’s dad and hyung?” he asks, debating whether to turn on the TV or not. He decides on leaving it silent.  

“I sent them to the grocery store. They should be back in two hours,” she responds. “Hyerin-ssi, please make sure to keep an eye on the soup. I’ll be right back!” The door to bathroom slams behind her and Jungkook chuckles under his breath.  

“Is she giving you hard time?” he asks Hyerin once he knows his mother cannot hear them.

Hyerin looks up to peek a glance in his direction. “Your mum is a lovely person, really, but she can be… a lot sometimes. Especially when she’s stressed.” she says, smiling coyly.

“Tell me about it.”  

She lets out a laugh that quickly dies down when aforementioned woman emerges from the bathroom. Instead of heading straight to the kitchen, she makes her way to Jungkook. “What are you planning to do after breakfast, Jungkookie?”  

Jungkook shrugs because honestly, he hasn’t given a thought it yet. “I don’t know. Maybe I can help you with something here.” he proposes, although cutting onions and cabbage is the last thing he would like to do.

Fortunately, the grimace on his mother’s face tells her she’s not quite fond of his proposition. “Oh, no, no, no. We’re perfectly fine on our own with Hyerin-ssi. We don’t need extra pair of hands. Why do you think I told Junghyun to go with dad?” she asks rhetorically with raised eyebrows.  

Of course Jungkook knows why. Kitchen is his mother’s kingdom. No one steps a foot there while she prepares food unless she permits it herself. Today she’s even more uncompromising about it because it’s the first time Hyerin parents are meeting Junghyun’s. It’s the matter of making a good impression as the host.  

“Maybe you could call Y/N and ask her what her plans are? I’m sure she won’t be very busy.” Jungkook’s mother prompts and he feels like he’s ten again, bored on Saturday and wondering what to do with himself. Then, an idea pops in his mind.

“Yeah. You’re right,” he agrees. “I’ll call her.”  

Maybe a literal trip down memory lane is everything he needs to feel like himself again.  

As predicted, at first you welcomed his idea with a little bit of qualm, yet you said yes nonetheless.  

And now here you are, hanging out together at the playground behind your old primary school. Getting there wasn’t an easy task, it required some parkour abilities and jumping over the fence because the place is apparently being locked on weekends now. Ten years ago it used to be your life estate on Saturdays.

You’re currently sat on a swing, watching Jungkook doing pull ups. You have a nagging suspicion that he chose to go on with his daily workout routine right now on purpose but you’re not better yourself, doing rather poor job at ignoring the way his hoodie rides upwards with every move he makes, revealing his toned abdomen.

“Okay, I’m done.” he grunts, letting go of the bar. He plops down on the other swing next you with a heavy exhale. “How many was it?” he then asks, referring to the number of pull ups you were supposed to keep a track off.

For a moment you forget you’re supposed to answer, eyes focused on Jungkook’s throat as he chugs down the whole water bottle.

“Hmm?” he repeats and you quickly snap out of your trance.

“I lost count.” Truthfully, you didn’t even make an attempt to do so. You were too distracted by the act itself to pay attention to anything else, let alone do basic math. Now you do understand all these girls going crazy when they get a glimpse of his sculpted body.

Jungkook rolls his eyes in response and starts swinging himself back and forth. It you recall correctly, he lost one of his front baby teeth here, jumping off the swing.

“I thought a lot of would change here after so many years. But it looks exactly like I remembered it.” he says, slowing down to a halt.

You nod at his words. Apart from a little painting and renovations done here and there, it’s like it all got stuck in time. You’re about to add that your mother told you the infamous principal Choi is still consistently running the school, but Jungkook doesn’t let you vocalize it.

“Wait,” He stands up suddenly and walks to the seesaw swing. You furrow your brows as he crouches on the ground and attentively observes the object, presumably searching for something. “A-ha! Here it is! I knew it still would be there.” he exclaims excitedly after a few seconds.

Confused, you come up to him. “What are you doing?”  

“Look,” he says, pointing at the wooden base of the seesaw. At first glance you don’t notice anything but as you get closer, you see what he meant.  

Jinyoung + Y/N = ♡ engraved on the swing.

“Oh my god.” you groan, covering your face in embarrassment.  

Jungkook ignores your whining and actually snaps a picture of his finding. “You know what’s actually funny? It was me who did this because you didn’t have enough strength.” He giggles, making your cheeks heat up in bright shade of red. “I stole my dad’s pocket knife for it. Such a shame your love story lasted only a week.”  

“I’m not listening to you!” you announce and quickly come back to your previous spot on the swing.

Jungkook doesn’t give up easily though, enjoying tormenting you with your pre-teen love life. He follows you, asking, “Wasn’t he your first kiss as well?” You keep your mouth shut, avoiding his eyes. He then clasps his hands. “Yeah, I remember now. Sixth grade. He kissed you here, am I right?”  

You wish you could wipe off that smirk from his face.  

“I never liked Jinyoung,” he continues, sitting down next to you on the second swing. “But I always wanted to have that black range rover his dad drove.”  

Your face heats up even more at the mere mention of Jinyoung and his dad’s car in one sentence. Jungkook can make fun of your silly crush as much he wants, but he doesn’t know one thing.  

That your little infatuation had a sequel.  

Taking a deep breath, you lean closer to him and ask, “Wanna know a secret?” He sends you a curious look and nods. You brace yourself for what is about to come. “I lost my virginity at the back of that range rover.”

Jungkook chokes on air. His eyes widen in pure shock and you have to fight an urge to laugh at how ridiculous he looks right now, gaping at you with mouth wide open. “What the fuck, Y/N?! Tell me you’re joking, please.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “I wish but unfortunately, that’s true. We went to the same high school and somehow… our paths crossed together again.” you explain.

“And you decided to fuck him in his dad’s car?”  

“No, dumbass. We were dating. For whole six months.”  

Jungkook sends you a look. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“It’s not like we were talking back then,” you reply sheepishly, toying with the edge of your sweater. Suddenly it’s hard for you to meet his scrutinizing  stare. “You stopped responding to my messages a little before I started dating him.”  

The atmosphere between you tenses. Jungkook’s expression morphs from astonishment into guilt and you curse yourself for ruining the mood.  

Jinyoung is just a mere memory, one of many mistakes you made during your teen years. He wasn’t anyone special to you anymore, he never had been. Not even when he deflowered you on the backseat of his dad’s car one night after some party. You were too drunk to care and too inexperienced to do more than just lie there and take it. With your skirt hiked up and blouse mid-open, wondering if Jinyoung was just as clueless as you when it came to sex or he simply didn’t know how to pleasure women.

What Jungkook doesn’t have to know, is that you jumped into the relationship with Jinyoung to fill the void your best friend created three years ago with unanswered messages and never returned calls.  You were lonely in high school, you couldn’t manage to form a close bond with anyone after Jungkook. You hoped Jinyoung was good enough for a replacement.

“What about you then?” you ask to clear the atmosphere. “I told you my secret, now you reveal me yours.”  

To loosen up the tension a bit, you decide to play the quid pro quo card. Partially out of curiosity, but mostly because you feel like you’ve exposed yourself too much in a short period of time. It will only be fair if he gives you the same in return.  

Jungkook smiles bashfully. For the person who had done many dirty things to you before, he sure looks shy now. “I was nineteen as well. She was a friend of a friend, four years older than me. We met a party, flirted a little and one thing led to another,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve never seen here after that. She tried to contact me but I just… I didn’t want to commit to something more.”

Is he ready for more now? you wonder silently. The question stays at the tip of your tongue though. You can’t wish for more when everything he’s able to provide is a few, quick moments of blissful relief between the sheets when sun goes down.  

But what if you want more? What if you’ve always, subconsciously, felt like you belonged together but universe decided to split you apart? What if you’ve always been in love with your best friend?  

The realization hits you like a tsunami. All these years, you spent denying your feelings for him. And when there’s a chance for you act on them, you back away. 

Because even if he’s now inches from you, he seems out of your reach.

By the time you gulp down your third glass of champagne, Jungkook’s brother’s engagement party is in full swing.  

Junghyun and Hyerin didn’t invite many people to celebrate. It’s a small, family gathering. Your parents were invited thanks to the almost twenty-years-long friendship with Jeons, which started when you moved into the new house next to theirs.  

Jungkook looks painfully handsome dressed in black suit pants and emerald green button-up shirt. His raven hair is styled the way you like the most, parted in the middle and revealing his forhead. You, on the other hand, are wearing a simple, long-sleeved navy blue dress you’ve had on multiple occasions before but it’s still your top go-to garment when you have nothing else to put on.

“Have I told you look great tonight, buttercup?”  

Turning around, you’re met with Junghyun’s smiling face. Of course he would approach you with his childhood nickname for you that used to make your heart flutter.

Besides his hair color, there’s little resemblance between him and Jungkook when it comes to appearance. While Jungkook took a lot after their father, Junghyun is almost a cardboard copy of their mum. Even their characters are two polar opposites. Junghyun is the more outgoing, boisterous type but Jungkook still tends to act introverted towards strangers.  

And paradoxically, it’s the younger brother who’s making a career in entertainment industry.

“Shouldn’t you be complementing your fiancée instead?” you ask, accepting another glass of Martini Junghyun hands you.  

“As you can see, she’s busy being interrogated by my mother.”  

From the corner of your eye, you see Hyerin nodding along to whatever miss Jeon is telling her right now, expressively gesturing. It’s her brand to do so. Your father says that she talks with her mouth and hands simultaneously.

“I’m sure Hyerin-ssi went through it already when they were preparing food together earlier today.” you joke.

Junghyun chuckles, having a seat next to you. He sends quick, supportive thumbs-up to to his girlfriend when she glances at him from the spot she occupies on the couch. You can’t help but coo at the sight.

“So,” you quip, “when’s the wedding?”  

“Next year in August,” Junghyun answers. “You’re obviously invited as well.”  

You smirk around the champagne glass. “I wouldn’t miss seeing my childhood crush getting married.”  

Junghyun laughs at that, throwing his head back. After a moment he adds, “It’s funny though, how you were gushing over me when the boy who had heart eyes for you was right under your nose.”  

You arch a brow. “You mean Jungkook? He had a crush on me?”  

“If course he did. You were the only girl who talked to him and moreover, you always helped him with his homework and you know how bad he was at algebra,” Junghyun says, sending you a knowing look. That much is true. Jungkook did suck at Math and could not, for crying out loud, interact with girls. “If he could, he would’ve taken you with him to Seoul all those years ago.”  

Your eyes involuntarily drift to aforementioned boy, standing with his father in the kitchen. They are looking at something your dad is showing them on his phone, probably pictures of the car he recently renovated.  

(A classic Chevrolet Camaro 1969. For all you know it looked like Damon’s car in Vampire Diaries.)

You can see Jungkook’s eyes growing big as he stares down at the screen. Obviously, he’s genuinely amazed with what he sees. You can only hope your dad won’t try persuading him to sell his luxurious Mercedes and buy something vintage instead.

“Why didn’t ever tell me that?” you ask, your voice quivery. You take another gulp of your drink to soothe the emotions bubbling in your chest and you barely succeed.

Junghyun shrugs his shoulders in response. “Would it change anything? You were thirteen-year-old kids back then and he was moving out to another city to make his big dream come true.”  

Pursing your lips, you nod. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”  

You don’t know exactly what Jungkook feels for you right now. Back when you were teenagers, it was just a fleeting attraction. Perhaps he thought about you this way because you were a girl who liked spending time with him.  

“I know him giving up your friendship was a dick move but you have to believe me that this boy has been really lost these past three years. Now he’s trying to find himself again, to become a better version of himself,” Junghyun remarks. “He needs his best friend to help him do so.”  

Turning once again to look at Jungkook, you catch him staring right back at you. He flashes a cheeky grin and completely fails winking at you. You’re lips automatically stretch into a smile seeing his goofiness. You like that side of him. It suits him.

“I think I need to go save my fiancee from my mother.” Junghyun whispers, catching you off guard. He follows your line of sight and smirks to himself. “Go talk to him. I’m sure your dad wouldn’t mind snatching Jungkook for a bit.” Unlike his younger brother, he lands a perfect wink.

Like beckoned, Jungkook approaches you when Junghyun leaves the table. “Aren’t you a little sad he’s getting married, buttercup?” It’s the first thing that night he says to you.  

Fighting an urge to snort, you ask, “Aren’t you tired of being jealous I chose Junghyun-oppa as the object of my affection and not you when we were kids?”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, manifesting his irritation. You relish in it even more now, having the knowledge he used to pin after you. He ignores your witty retort though completely.

“Want to get out of here for a while?”  

Your heart skips a beat. “Where?” you blurt out, looking around the room for any place comfortable for you to stay in for a while.

“Isn’t it obvious?” When you raise your brows in question he adds, “To your house, of course.”  

“But–”

He shooshes you with a finger on his lips. “No buts, Miss Grumpy. It’s been ages since I’ve been in your room. Do you still have that Edward Cullen’s poster above your bed?” he asks and this time, you actually land a punch to his arm.

Downing the rest of your champagne, you get up from the chair. “Shall we?”  

“Ladies first.”  

“I still can’t understand why did you really hang a poster of some pale dude above your bed.”  

You’re climbing up the stairs to your room, and Jungkook is in the middle of his rant about Why Twilight Has Ever Been A Thing. You’re ten seconds from pointing out his teenage female crushes one by one, starting with IU just to rile him up.

“It’s just weird for me,” he huffs upon taking one last step to the top.

You whip your head to send him a glare. “Do you really want me to say the same thing about your fans worshipping your posters?” you ask, eyes narrowed. “You’re out of their reach just like Edward Cullen was out of mine when I was fourteen.”

He points his finger at you. “But he’s a fictional vampire and I’m real.”  

“Exactly!”  

You leave him with that, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, and open the door to your room.

“So you did get rid of him after all.”  

Nothing really much changed in your childhood room since you moved out four years ago. Your walls are still painted in lavender but the posters are long gone, much to Jungkook’s dismay. There is a bookshelf with all your favorite positions (Twilight included) standing directly next to the desk which is now pearl white, just like the rest of your furniture.  

Before you can say anything, Jungkook plops down onto your bed. “You still got them though,” he murmurs and you glance in his direction, waiting for him to elaborate on what he means. He raises his finger to the ceiling. “Those yellow stars that shine when it’s dark. You have the same in your apartment in Seoul.”  

“Oh, yeah,” you awkwardly reply, looking up. “I put them there so I can have something reminding me of home.”  

Truth to be told, you are a sentimental person. The very best evidence of your heart’s weakness is the corkboard with old photos in your apartment. As cheesy as it might sound, it gives you a sense of comfort.

Jungkook hums at that and pats the spot next to him with his hand. “Come lay with me.” he proposes.

“Why?” you ask, although you sit down on the bed anyway.  

“Because I want you to,” he grumbles and places his palm on your stomach, pushing you to lay flat. “There you go.”  

It reminds you of old days, how you used to lay down with him like that on your bed and just do nothing, simply staring at the constellations on your ceiling in silence or speaking about trivial things.  

Life was much easier back then, when there was no cameras flashing around and capturing every move your best friend makes. When you were just two kids with head full of dreams and dragging on forever doing your Chemistry homework. When you were each other’s beginning and end, yin and yang, sun and moon and the starry sky above you.  

It slips off your tongue eventually, what have you been meaning to ask him since the beginning of your illicit affair. And now it seems like you’ve finally reached the point of no return. “What are we, Jungkook?”  

You turn your head to the side, staring at his right profile. His chiseled jawline, black lashes ghosting the skin of your cheeks. He opens his eyes slowly, focusing his sight on you but you quickly look away.

“You know damn well that we aren’t just friends anymore. Maybe we’ve never been,” You sit up straight from your position, finally gaining enough courage to face the matter. “You can’t play with my emotions like that and expect me not to catch any feelings for you. You’re confusing me so much, Jungkook. I don’t think I can go on like that any more.”  

You feel his palm on the small of your back, comforting and bringing you a brief wave of solace. He follows suit, getting up from his position as well. “Look at me,” he murmurs and you jerk your head to the side. You don’t want him to see you like this again - vulnerable and exposed. “Please, ___.”  

It’s his pleading voice that makes you succumb to his request. Hesitantly, you accept his touch on your cheek and meet his doe eyes, two black charcoals shining in the dim lighting of your childhood room. He has the same look in them as you saw the first time he kissed you. If the teeth worrying his bottom lip are anything to go by, you could mistake it for nervousness.  

“I shouldn’t feel that way about you,” Jungkook finally says. “I shouldn’t wake up with an urge to text you because if I didn’t, my day would be incomplete. I shouldn’t picture us doing mundane things like cooking ramen in your apartment or picking you up from work,” he recites, voice laced with an emotion you can’t quite put the name on. Or maybe you do.

It’s longing.  

“I shouldn’t imagine us being together because I can’t give you all of these things, ___.” Lone tear slides down your cheek and he catches it with his thumb. “I’m so, so sorry.”  

You’re shaking your head, because no, he shouldn’t apologize for the world’s unfairness, for wanting to have more of you, of freedom. “Jungkook–” you start but he’s quick to interrupt you.  

“I told you this before and I’m repeating it now: you deserve so much better than what I can give you, ___.”  

He tries to distance himself, to back away and leave because that’s what he’s a master of but you beat him to it, extending your index finger and poking him right in the middle of his chest. “Now you listen to me, Jeon Jungkook,” you urge, not caring about your tear-strained cheeks and shaky voice. “I’m a very stubborn person, and you know that. If I wanted to leave you, I would’ve kicked you out of my apartment the day your drunk ass stormed back into my life.”  

He smiles sheepishly, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “And why didn’t you do that?” he asks, his palm not leaving your cheek.  

“Because more than anything, I’ve never stopped caring about you,” It’s almost a whisper. “No matter how hurt I was, I couldn’t let you slip away from my reach again.”  

And then he’s leaning even closer, lips almost touching yours yet it feels like it’s not enough. It’ll never be. “___,” he murmurs your name softly, breath smelling of champagne hot on your skin. You feel dizzy, drunk on him. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”  

You both know it’s a white lie, that as soon as you’re back in Seoul the reality will brutally kick you in but you let yourself for a moment indulge in this fantasy – that you’re his and he’s yours. You’re on the opposite sides of the spectrum, yet you cannot be separated.  

And you need to hear him say it.

“Promise?”  

Jungkook seals it with a kiss, the one that leaves you breathless and pliant in his arms, blindly reaching for him and pulling him closer with your hands on his neck. “Promise.” he whispers, eyes trained on yours.

For now, it has to be enough.

Then, as if he can’t hold himself back any longer, he dives in for more, hands finding purchase on your hips. He’s tugging you closer until you’re perched on top of his thighs, feeling the hard flesh flexing underneath your weight. It feels familiar; that funny, pulsing sensation building up in your core when he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip to meet yours. It makes you tangle your fingers in his black locks and pull, just to hear him groan into your mouth.

But there’s another pressing matter on your mind and before you can go any further, you’re pulling away from his lips with a light smack. Jungkook doesn’t take the hint though, anchoring your hips over his crotch.

“Wait,” you mumble in between kisses, biting down the moan that almost tears from your throat when he uses the grip on your body to grind down on him. “What about the party? What if parents will come home and–”

“Shhh,” He silents you with a peck on your quivery lips. “They won’t. The party has barely started. And even if they do come home, you’ll just have to be quiet, right?” Something about his tone makes you nibble on your bottom lip to suppress a whimper. He sees it, and leans down to kiss your throat. “Can you do that for me, baby?”  

“Mhm,” you mewl, angling your neck to give him more access. He sucks a mark right above your sternum and it almost distracts you from asking him one more thing. “Jungkook,”  

He licks a stripe up the column of your throat and looks at you, lips shining with saliva. “What is this?”  

Despite the urge to kiss him stupid right here and there, you cup his cheeks and repeat the same question that led you to this very moment. “What are we?”  

Jungkook looks like a living sin with his blown out pupils and disheveled hair yet his gaze is nothing less than affectionate. He brings one of your hands to his lips and places a kiss on your knuckles. “Whatever you want us to be,” he responds, sincere. “You know I never give up without trying.”

You nod, a small smile dancing on your features. “I know.”  

He captures your mouth in another kiss, like he’s trying to prove his statement with actions; sucking, biting, kneading your supple flesh just right. Suddenly there’s too many clothes separating you and your fingers grip his silk shirt in faint attempt to satisfy your yearning to feel him fully.

As if reading your mind, Jungkook stops mid-decorating your neck with yet another red mark. “Get up and take off your dress for me, baby.” he says, all soft but still demanding enough to make your knees wobble. As much as you love the dominant side of him, you’re enjoying this new-found softness of his.  

You comply to his request in an instant, raising from his lap to a standing position. Your fingers travel to your backside and pull the zipper down. Your dress falls on the floor with light thud, leaving you in your underwear. It’s matching but not your best pick nonetheless; simple black lace bra and cotton panties. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, two antsy hands gently pulling you closer to him until you’re in between his thighs.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a feathery kiss on your belly. You let out a shaky sigh, trying to avert your gaze away from his burning stare but he destroys your attempt. “Don’t shy away from me now.” A squeeze to your hip is a warning. You give in, looking down just to see him smirking right back at you.  

“I won’t if you take off your clothes as well.” you challenge despite your trembling voice.

He gets up, towering over your figure. “Undress me then.” Your shaky fingers reach for the buttons, opening one by one. He watches your movements attentively, lets you run your palms over his broad chest. His silky shirt joins your dress on the floor as you fumble with his belt buckle.  

There’s something intimate about this moment. It’s not the first time you’re seeing each other naked yet everything feels new, unchartered. You’re exploring each other again, mapping your bodies with subtle touches and observant eyes. 

Jungkook strips off his slacks, steps off his shoes along with socks. He sends you a cheeky grin. “Now we’re even.” He swallows your giggle with his mouth, not wasting any more time and pressing you against his body.  

You moan when you feel his erection touching your hip. He uses it as an opportunity to slither his tongue inside, each experienced lick making it hard for you to follow his tempo. You go lax in his hold, letting him snap your bra open. He maneuvers your body until you’re laying on your back and he’s straddling your waist.  

“So pretty,” he marvels, palms caressing your breasts. Your nipples harden under his ministrations, breathy moan escaping your lips when he pinches them. “Such a pretty baby.” he repeats, lost in touching every part of you he can reach.

Jungkook peppers kisses on your belly, hands travelling to your thighs. He leans to kiss you on your panty-clad mound. You mewl at the sensation, unconsciously sliding your legs wide open and giving him more access to your center. “Can I eat you out?” he asks, continuing mouthing over your pussy. When you don’t answer him in time, he slaps your thigh in reprimand. ‘’Hmm?”  

“Please,” you whimper, mind send into overdrive. Minho rarely went down on you and you almost forgot how good it feels to have someone’s mouth on you.

Jungkook grasps your underwear and pulls it down your legs, revealing your dripping pussy to his hungry eyes. His breath tickles your folds, sheets grasped tightly between your fingers. Jungkook kitten-licks your pulsing clit, eyes trained on your face to see every small reaction he emits from you.

“Jungkook,” you keen, hips rising to chase after his mouth.  

He nibbles on your thigh playfully, flashing you a sly smile. “What do you want, doll?”  

It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you whine pitifully at him. He relishes in it, sucking your clit into his mouth as an apology for his teasing.  You whimper, “Please, I want more. Give me more.”  

‘’Demanding, are we?” he snorts but complies anyway. No matter how much he loves hearing you beg, he enjoys eating you out more. He covers you your pussy with his mouth, tongue swiping over your sensitive numb. He licks up clean your soaking slit, not missing a single drop of your pearly arousal.

He groans at the taste and throws your legs over his shoulders. He pulls you even closer to him until his face is burried between thighs. Your fingers wander to his hair on their own accord, threading into his silky strands. After a harsh suck he abuses your clit with, you pull. It spurs him on even more, a groan mouthed against your pussy causing even more slick to drip down your opening. 

“Tell me how good it feels.” he mumbles, glancing up at your face. You focus your sight on him, his chin is shining with translucent substance, hair tangled and sweaty against his forehead.  

“So good,” you mewl.  

“Yeah? That good?” Jungkook asks, tone almost mocking. You’re now only nodding in response, your cunt pulsing with a need to release. “Can you cum for me like this, baby?” he mouths along your folds.  

“Please, please,” You’re nearly crying, tears pricking in the corners because the pleasure is too much to bear. Your clit throbs, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Oh my god–Kook!”  

“Good girl,” He rewards you with two slender fingers pushing inside your pussy, searching for that one stop that makes your insides flutter. “My pretty baby, tastes so sweet for me.” he rasps before licking a stripe up your cunt.

His digits slide even deeper into you. It sounds sinfully wet but you don’t care, accepting whatever he gives you. And give does he, plunging his fingers repeatedly inside and flicking his tongue against your bud – a perfect symphony to finally send you over the edge.

“There you go,” he murmurs, feeling your walls tightening around his fingers. More juices leak out of your hole and he drinks them up eagerly. “My pretty girl doing so good for me.”  

He prolongs your orgasm until you stop him with a breathy whimper of, “’m sensitive.”  

Jungkook gets up to hover over your shaking body. He opens your mouth with a deep, wet kiss. You taste your arousal on his tongue, feeling no longer foreign and eliciting a moan out of you. His length presses against your hip, hard and straining his briefs. With a surge of boldness you reach down, rolling his underwear off his body. His cock slaps against his abdomen, curved tip leaking precum.

Nibbling on your bottom lip you watch as his hand encloses around his member, giving it a few pumps. He groans, head thrown back. Your eyes focus on the sweat dripping down his sculpted body all the way from his neck down his chest. Jungkook is a sight for sore eyes– slim waist, toned thighs. Everything about him is mesmerizing.  

He settles between your legs, cock prodding at your folds. “You sure?” he asks, searching for your eyes.  

You don’t answer him verbally this time and he doesn’t press about it. Instead you open your legs even wider, a small smile dancing on your features as you nod. You’re welcoming the stretch with a drawn out moan. He pushes himself inside slowly, until he’s flushed against your pelvis, his neatly trimmed pubic hair tickling your skin.  

“Fuck,” he curses, hands coming up to grip your sides so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave fingertip bruises. “You’re so perfect, baby. Made for me.” He leans to press a kiss on your mouth, tongue lazily lacing with yours. It’s messy, saliva trickling down your chin but you don’t care, reciprocating with vigor.  

Jungkook pulls away and places one last peck on your cheek. “Ready?” he murmurs.  

You couldn’t be more than. “Ready.”  

He picks up the pace, blindly reaching for your legs to make you encircle his waist. You’ve never fucked in this position before, with him so close to your face you could practically taste the sweat dripping off his body on your lips. He relishes in having you like this, palms caressing every square inch of your flesh. 

‘’God, I missed having you like this, doll,” he grunts. He props his hand next to your head and it gives him leverage to hammer himself faster into your cunt. “Do you like how I’m fucking you?” he asks and you keen in response. He doesn’t seem to be satisfy with your reaction. “Too fucked out to speak?” You hear him chuckling evily into your ear.

“Shit, Jungkook,” you whimper, throwing your hands over his neck. His skin his hot and slippery under your touch. He rams himself even harder into you, hips never losing the rhythm. You feel the pressure building up in your abdomen already, reducing you to mewling mess underneath him. “I-I love it. So, so much.” you stammer out.

“Yeah?” he prompts, fingers slipping down your belly to toy with your clit. “Love how my cock is fucking you?”

“Yes, yes–fuck,” you chant. “So good.”  

He loses himself in you, in the way how tight you feel around his cock. He tells you this, spits filthy obscenities into your ear and punctuates it with deep strokes inside you. He wants to have you like this forever, keep you to himself and hide from the whole world.  

It’s selfish of him to think that way but he can’t help it, not when you’re moaning so pretty when he tightens his grip on your waist and rails you harder into the mattress. Not when you’re there when he needs you, when you’re his lifeboat bringing him back to the land (sanity).  

He wants to see you smile for him, because of him. Wants to call you his. And that’s what he asks you to, begs in stranded voice. “Say you’re mine,”  You’re shaking your head, tears threatening to spill from your eyes but he needs to hear you say it even if it’ll be just this once. “Please, tell me you’re mine, ___.”

Your whole body shudders from pleasure. You open your quivery lips but nothing comes out of it except for a broken whimper of his name. “J-jungkook–”

“Please,” he pleads once again, entangling your hands from around his neck and pinning them over your head instead. “Say nobody will ever make you feel this way. Fuck you until you cry,” he continues, fingers circling your nub with ferocity. “Fucking say it!”  

You sob, pleasure rippling through your body and throwing you off the edge. “I’m yours,” you whisper hoarsly, staring into his dark orbs. “Yours, yours, yours!” you repeat, creaming his cock with your release.  

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans and you don’t know it’s because of your confession or your walls constracting around his member. Maybe it’s the mixture of both. “You’re mine just like I’m yours.” he spits as the orgasm approaches him, shuddering through his whole body. He comes with a call of your name, spilling himself inside.  

You whimper at the sensation, your arousal mixing with his and dripping from your hole. Jungkook lets go of your wrists, pressing a peck on each of them. His palm cups your cheek and he leans down to kiss you. It’s lazy, your mouths barely moving but it feels good anyway.  

He’s in the middle of pulling his softening cock out of your core when you hear your mum’s voice.  

“___, honey, are you here?” She’s downstairs, approximately forty-five seconds from reaching your room.

Jungkook sends you a panicked look. “Go lock my door!” you hiss. 

He obliges quickly, naked butt jogging across the room to twist the key. You can’t help but giggle as he tiptoes to the bed again. He puts a hand over your mouth and murmurs, “Shhh, be quiet.”  

Your mum’s heels clink on the stairs. Few seconds later she’s knocking on your door. “___, are you there?” she asks. You’re praying she won’t twist the handle because in that case you’ll have a lot of awkward explaining to do. Fortunately, she gives up. “I guess they went for a walk.”  

By ‘they’ she means you and Jungkook who’s currently stifling a laugh against your shoulder. “Well, maybe not for a walk but something equally energy-draining.” he whispers. You elbow him in the stomach, making him chuckle even harder.

When you hear the door to your house closing, you let out a breath of relief. “I knew fucking in my childhood bedroom wasn’t a good idea.”

Jungkook smirks. “You sure about that?” he teases, squeezing your hip. It makes you roll your eyes but you don’t hide the smile on your face afterwards anyway.

Jungkook reaches for your panties and rolls you onto your back, carefully cleaning you up and then himself. He tucks you beneath the covers, encircling your body with his arm. You relish in the heat radiating of him, pressing your cheek right where his heart beats.

“You’ve never told me what would be my biography’s title.” Jungkook says after a moment.  

You smile to yourself, fingertips drawing patterns on his skin absentmindedly. “I’d call it ‘Lost Star’.” you answer.  

“Because I’m a troublesome celebrity?” he chuckles and you shake your head.  

“Well, of course you can interpret it like that but for me it has more of a metaphorical sense,” you explain. “You’re a star, like those on the sky, which got lost and came to Earth instead. That’s why you’re so special. Because you’re out of this world.”  

“I’m no special,” Jungkook grumbles, pouting.  

You sit up from your position to look him in the eyes. “You’re wrong, Jeon Jungkook. And I think I’m not the only person who thinks the same,” you urge. He meets your gaze and you realise how young he looks right now. Young and boyish. “You make thousands of people smile because of your music. That’s a special ability to me.”  

He flashes you a small smile. “I’ve never thanked you for believing in me from the very beginning.” he says, cupping your cheek in his palm.  

“Always.”  

You drift off to sleep with his voice humming softly in your ears.

[4 months later]

“Bangtan Sonyeondan are currently at the Incheon International Airport, leaving for their upcoming world tour. Their first show will be held this Saturday in Los Angeles and–”

You walk into the living room and sit on the sofa, staring at the pictures Korean press took of Jungkook and his bandmates while they were departing to US. They are dressed in their casual clothing and you know the fans are going to freak out seeing Jungkook’s hair has gotten long enough to tie it in a man bun. You’re almost sure the news have already spread on Twitter.

The TV is too big for your liking but Jungkook insisted on buying it anyway. You can almost see the pimple on his cheek he woke up with this morning. It makes you smile involuntarily.

Rest of the design in his–now yours as well– apartment was mainly your idea. He bought it without telling you because he knew you would freak out. And you did, obviously, call him crazy. But he didn’t mind. Told you he needed a space for himself for a very long time and now he has someone to share it with.  

The house feels empty without him. It’s too spacious for one person and when he’s not around, you feel like intruder. But you’ve put on your big girl shoes this morning after a passionate round of love making and teary-eyed goodbyes. You won’t slip them off until he will come home to you in two months.  

He promised he would show you Paris and London. You know he will keep that promise, although you aren’t sure you’ll be able to make it with your new job. After breaking up with Minho, Jungkook encouraged you to try sending your drafts to different publishing companies. And one of them responded positively.

You check your phone–your smiling face meeting you on the lockscreen. Jungkook’s smooching your cheek, but prying eyes wouldn’t be able to tell it’s him from that angle. His last text message is from fifteen minutes ago.  

[5:55pm] jungkook:  

We’re departing in 20 minutes  

I’m missing you already so much:(

You reply, although he’s probably fast asleep like he always does during flying.  

[6:01pm] me:  

Miss u too!!

And you mean it. You’re missing him when he’s at his dance practice, when he’s in the studio. But it has to be enough for now.  

The dates he takes you for have to be in the confines of your apartment. You can’t go for a walk and hold his hand or kiss him in public. He said you needed to wait for the tour to end to discuss publicly announcing your relationship. You’re wondering what’s better: forever hiding or being judged for every step you take.

You’re a strong girl, he once told you. And you’ll continue being one. For the two teenagres on the beach smiling to the camera in the framed photo next to your TV.  

However long it takes.  

[missskzbiased]

Eggy First Date

Summary: You can’t seem to catch a break this week. You’ve run out of eggs, visibly stained your living room carpet with grape juice, and worst of all: your laundry machine has broken down. Such an event has resulted in you awkwardly shuffling your dirty clothes to the nearest laundromat, but hey, at least the boy using the machine next to you is cute!

WC: 2,3 K

Requested: By Stayndays <3 Thank you, Buddy!

Genre: Slice of Life, Fluff, Humor (?)

AUs: College, (Implied) Classmates to Lovers, Crushes, Kinda Friends to Lovers

Pairing: Yang Jeongin X GN! Reader

Rebloggable Masterlist   //   Main Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of food, Language (Crap/Shit)

                                                   ////

   Yep… Turns out it’s impossible to fix one’s life in a few hours.

      You should have known better than letting everything pile up like that, but now it was a little bit too late to be sorry. As your phone insisted on reminding you ─ alarm shouting for anyone to hear ─, your parents should arrive at your apartment in about two hours. It didn’t sound too bad when you put it like this, but when you think in perspective, it’s kinda easy to see why you’re screwed up…

      The first problem: You have no eggs.

     It may not sound that alarming, but you promised your mom to flex your culinary skills and bake her favorite cake as soon as she came to visit you. Funnily enough, when you tried to fix some scrambled eggs on Tuesday ─ a hopeful attempt to eat anything other than cup noodles ─ you had to drop half of them to your recently cleaned floor. In other words, not only you had to clean your floor again but you also had only four eggs to make your lunch and survive the week… Which meant you ran out of eggs by Wednesday.

      Now, you didn’t have to be a genius to know that having no eggs meant no favorite cake for your mom… And as much as having no cake didn’t sound like the end of the world, it was only the beginning. No cake meant questions, and questions meant answers, and answers meant you would have to either tell them the truth or lie to them… Unfortunately, you couldn’t tell them the truth or else you would expose your Thursday’s mistake, but we’ll get to that later.

      That being said, you were left with two options: Lie to them ─ and risk being caught ─ or buy fresh eggs to bake her a cake. It was needless to say that you went with the last one. However, by Wednesday night ─ when, despite having no eggs, you had finals to worry about ─, buying your groceries after your exams, on Friday, sounded like the perfect plan. And it kinda was… At least for the next 24H that followed it, before you managed to screw everything up on Thursday.

      The second problem: Grape juice.

      You were stressed out, alright?! You had only one more day to go with your exams and it may or may not have gotten to your head. So drinking grape juice on the couch ─ since you had no actual food to eat and have been feeding on liquids ─ while watching a 20 minutes episode of Brooklyn 99 was a good way to relax. Perhaps, you should act more like the nonfunctional college student that you were. This way, you would be studying in your room instead of missing the coffee table as you laughed; spilling your juice on the carpet.

      Of course, it couldn’t be a normal carpet that was totally replaceable… No, it had to be the very own carpet your grandma gifted to your father when he moved out… It happened to be the same one her mother gave to her when she moved out as well! Of course, it had to be this one and not the stupid carpet on your bathroom that meant absolutely nothing. It had to be the carpet your father gifted to you while saying that this new journey full of responsibilities ─ also called miserable college life ─ would be blessed by your previous generations or whatever!

     Basically, you just drowned your whole family in cheap juice that tasted like purple! Because of a joke! A joke that wasn’t even that good! It definitely wasn’t worth it.

     Whatever was the necessary skill to remove a stain from a carpet, you didn’t have it. And you didn’t have the time to learn it either. So, as a desperate student, you did the best you could: Blot the liquid with a wet cloth, pour about half of the ocean over the spot, mix the most random stuff you had, soak the carpet overnight, and go off to sleep so you wouldn’t botch your finals.

      The third problem: The Rise of the Machines. 

      When you got home after your exams ─ no eggs, ‘cause your mind was too focused on saving the carpet ─, you were still hopeful that everything was going to be okay. The Internet blessed you with the ultimate knowledge to remove any stains from a sacred carpet and you followed each step as if your life depended on it. Because it did. You did such an amazing job that the spotless area turned into a clean spot on the dirty carpet… And that, dearest friends, was the real problem.

      It was exactly 10:27 PM when you decided to shove your carpet into the washing machine and go downstairs to buy a burger on your friend’s stand. It was about 11:13 PM when you got back to your place, happily fed and unworried about your life. It took you less than a minute to have all of your happiness fading away as you saw that the foam spilled over the floor, bringing you a sad realization: Your washing machine had failed you.

     In other words, you had a damp, dirty carpet to save, a dozen eggs to buy, a cake to bake, and a lie to keep in the next… Twelve hours or something. And you needed to sleep for at least half of that time. But that was okay! Everything was fine… You had six hours to fix your entire life tomorrow, right? Yeah… Except that not really, no. Because obviously ─ how didn’t you see that coming? ─, your phone had decided to not wake you up the next morning.

     The fourth problem: Your parents.

     The two hours ahead of you could mean twenty minutes or even a second… Knowing your parents, they could be standing right in front of your door, ringing your bell and asking themselves why you weren’t home. The answer would be because you were at the laundromat next to your building, which wasn’t the cheapest one but it was the closest thing you had to a miracle right now. Well, it would be, if the washing machine actually gave a shit about your struggles.

      As the water slowly spilled over your carpet ─ instead of being gushed to soak the damn thing ─, you let your shoulders drop and a sigh escape from your lips. You didn’t know if you felt more relieved for finally having things working out or defeated for having to go through all of this. The exhausted eyes you met in your reflection were a good hint, though, and you got closer to the glass door to rest your forehead on the cold surface and take a small break. At least ─ as long as your parents didn’t arrive before the drying cycle ─, they would never know about the truth and everything should be just fine… You wouldn’t need to worry about being kicked out from the family.

      “Crap” You grumbled, mindlessly knocking your head on the door on repeat.

      “Tough day, huh?” The soft voice was familiar, but the warm hand preventing you from hitting the glass again wasn’t. You frowned before turning to check if you weren’t going crazy. To your misfortune, the cute boy smiling sympathetically at you was exactly who you thought it was “That’s bad for you” He pointed out, chuckling as he watched you snapping your head away from his hand.

      “Hey!” You blurted; face burning to the thought of him seeing you like this. Why everything had to go so wrong in your life?! Why did Jeongin have to see you wearing the most sloppy outfit you could ever wear? Your hands flew to your hair to try and fix the nest on top of your head “What’s up?” You huffed playfully; hitting his shoulder lightly in the most unnatural way that you could.

     Way to go, Y/N! Humiliate yourself in front of your crush!

     “Just washing some stuff” He shrugged, pointing to the machine next to yours, “You don’t usually come here, though… Well, at least, I never saw you here before” He mused, arching his brow “Are you following me around now?” He whispered teasingly, cupping his hand around his mouth as he smirked at you.

      “What?! No!” You panicked, widening your eyes and floundering your hands in the air “I’m not, I swear!” You insisted as he stared at you mockingly, “If anything you’re the one following me! I live nearby! Where do you live?! Is it even close?!” You defended yourself vehemently; poking his chest as you visibly lost your mind.

      “I’m joking, jeez!” He chortled, rubbing his torso “Calm down, Y/N… It’s your neighborhood, I know” He reassured you, squeezing your shoulder and chuckling as you relaxed under his touch “I was just trying to make you feel better” He explained; hand sliding to pat your back “What’s up? Did you mess up on your exams?” Jeongin asked; tone wandering around curiosity and worry.

      “No… I did just fine” You sighed; getting him to tilt his head in confusion ─ he’s so cute scrunching his nose like this! ─ while you smiled at him, getting back to your senses.

      It was just Jeongin, for Lord’s sake… He was your classmate! He had seen you look way worse than this before, if you were being honest. Which wasn’t that reassuring now that you think about it… But anyway! He had seen you drooling all over your desk, and snoring, and looking like a zombie! There was nothing to worry about… Even if he kinda is really cute and you kinda have a crush on him.

      “Wanna talk about it?” He offered friendly. Did he really have to be this kind and bubbly while smiling at you? Couldn’t he be a little bit less cute? Or just look like a normal human being while doing his laundry? Like having messy hair… Or messy clothes… Or dark circles under his eyes… Or just not look this fresh and perfect and… “Y/N?” He called unsurely, waving his hand in front of your eyes.

      “Sorry” You rushed to say, ducking your head between your shoulders “I... I mean, there’s a lot going on in my mind now” It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t quite the truth. You were just thinking about him, but he didn’t need to know that, “Mom and Dad are going to come and visit me today… I promised to bake her a cake, but I ran out of eggs” Now you were just spilling whatever was on your mind, hm? It probably didn’t even make sense for him.

      “And you thought doing your laundry could get you some?” He joked confusedly, laughing as you pouted at him.

      “No…” You whined, kicking him lightly “I knocked my grape juice on the family’s sacred carpet… So I’m trying to make it look okay or else my dad is going to kill me” You explained further, pinching the bridge of your nose “But they’re coming and I still have to buy those damn eggs, and bake this damn cake, and wash this damn—”

     “Hey, hey” He shushed you, holding both of your shoulders to prompt you to look into his eyes. They held a thousand million stars… But that wasn’t really the point “Everything’s good, okay? Why don’t we go to buy some eggs, then you go and bake your cake?” He suggested calmly, massaging your skin as he smiled reassuringly “I can take care of your laundry… Mine is here anyway” He chuckled, seeing the way your eyes lit up to his plan “I can get it to your house before they get there… They’ll never know” He promised.

      “No way” You chirped; hands jolting to his face and grabbing his cheeks firmly “Jeongin” You said seriously; eyes unwavering as you stared right into his “You’re my hero” You stated matter-of-factly, enticing a wide grin from him “I owe you my life, I mean it” You concluded, quickly letting go of his face.

     What were you doing?!     

     “Ask me on a date and we’re even” He joked.

      “Don’t be silly” You rolled your eyes, pretending not to be affected by his friendly banter.

      “Fair enough… So go out with me on a date and we’re even” He smirked; eyes glinting amusedly as you let your mouth fall agape to his request. You took a while to react properly, and the growing silence seemed to get into Jeongin’s head, “I mean… I’d like to if that’s okay with you…” He shrugged, gulping down nervously “I’ve been wanting to… I was going to ask… I was just waiting for…” He floundered, clearing his throat to make it less obvious.

      “Well, if it makes us even…” You fought back your smile, watching as his anxiety dissolved into relief before he beamed at you “I guess I’d love to go on a date with you...” He laughed wholeheartedly, taking your hands in his “What about next week?” You suggested coyly, enjoying the warmth of his touch.

      “What about now?” He grinned like a fox.

      “Have you listened to what I said before?” You chortled “I have to buy some eggs and –” You began to enumerate on your fingers, but he giggled playfully, interrupting you.

      “You know what’s funny?” He smirked “My dream was to buy some eggs with you as a first date… I don’t think we’ll ever get this chance again” The corner of his lips twitched; dimples showing as he looked fondly at you “Shall we?” He asked in mocking politeness, extending his arm for you to take.

      “I must say you have such a weird taste…” You hummed, studying his extended arm amusedly “But you’re cute, so it’s all forgiven” You shrugged, chuckling as he locked his arm with yours and took the lead to find a grocery store nearby.

[love-kazin]

Mixed Feelings

Genre: friends-to-lovers, smut.

Pairing: Jang Wooyoung x Reader (female) x Lee Junho.

Warnings: a little bit angst in the beggining but it’ll pass soon, a lot of dirty talk.

Word count: 3.778.

REQUESTED.

You came to a conclusion about your feelings and also how to avoid it. It wasn’t your best idea, and gladly they changed your mind. 

-x-

"Taec just told me you're talking normally with him, so why aren't you answering any of my texts or calls?" and "Did I do something wrong? Or is it something I said? It's been almost a month since I heard about you from yourself..." were the first messages you saw after grabbing your phone to turn off the alarm at that cold morning. It was actually ironic how the weather seemed to match perfectly your feelings. Those messages weren't helping, not even a little bit. And Taecyeon was the one who could ease your pain, being the only person whom you shared your little secret. Which was why you had a meeting with him to get some lunch that day.

"So, how's your heart?" "Unfortunately, the same. I don't know what to do. But seeing you brights my feelings a little bit." "I'm touched. But seriously, you should just tell them. I mean, it's not like they're gonna turn their backs from you." "How could you know?" "I've been friends with them for more than a decade, so I guess I'm safe to say this. Plus, you're friends with us for at least the five last years, so we could never judge you or step out of your life. Specially both of them." "What do you mean, 'specially them'?" You stopped your fork that was tossing aside the piece of meat on your plate. The possibility of talking with Wooyoung and Junho that you liked them both and they tossing you to the side just like you were doing with that juicy meat caused you some nausea.  "If I may add this, to burst you some courage, I know Wooyoung has a little crush on you." "What?" "Seems like you have some positive effect on his life, which makes him ramble about you every time after you meet. About Junho, I can't affirm anything, but he also seems very fond of you." "That's crazy. I couldn't be lucky enough to have these two men liking me just how I like them." "You may find out, but you have to talk to them. They keep coming after me to discover things about your daily life since you cut them off. You don't want them to do this with you, so I don't think what you're doing is fair." "You're right." "You bet I am. Now, while you think about it, eat a little. The meat is perfectly tender." Nodding, you started to eat a bit as your mind went to a crazy place where those two guys liked you back. This couldn't happen. It'd be a total mess. But what was the difference between how you were all dealing with each other now? In the worst case scenario, they wouldn't like you and you'd probably step out of their lives a little, to soothe your heart. It was better to rip off the bandage once for all. "I'm sorry for the absence. I'm dealing with some stuff. Can you come over friday night? I wanna talk to you in person." As soon as you sended the text for Junho and Wooyoung, your phone was ringing like crazy. You just turned it off and shrugged when Taec looked at you arching his eyebrows. "I invited them over at friday. I hope we can talk through this." "I know you will, but I still wish you a good luck." Smiling, you finish your lunch just in time to go back to work. Taecyeon drove you off since it was on his way and you thanked him once again for all he has done and he just chuckled. "C'mon, how couldn't I help my favorite people?" He was truly the best friend in the whole world, and left after motioning for you to answer the - probably - 5th call after the invitation you made for those men. Sighing, you pick up the black phone almost lost inside that filled purse. It was Junho. "Why are you ghosting me? If you have something to deal, I can help you with it, and you know that! Do you know how worried I got? I was in another country and couldn't come to you, but it was the first thing I tried to do when I came back, but you weren't anywhere to be found. Then, Taec told me you didn't wanted to see me. Taecyeon, not you! You couldn't even tell me this? Seriously, after all these years?"  He was angry. His voice was kinda aggressive, just how you knew it would be. And you also thought that you deserved that treatment. Junho was right in every word he pronounced, but your heart still felt hurt. It made your heart ache because behind those words, you knew he was suffering too. It was the first time ever you have cut him off of your life in all those years. You got so caught up in your feelings that didn't even noticed when you started crying, and the tone in Junho's voice changed immediately.  "Wait, don't cry. I'm sorry. I'm just really preoccupied with you, I didn't mean to sound so rude. You know how I am. Please, stop crying. I can't deal with this if I'm not close enough to hold you." "Junho..."  He sighed.  "I'm not waiting until friday. I'm coming over tonight. We need to talk." "But... That's not only our business." "I know you cut Wooyoung off too. What did we do?" "It's not that, you didn't do anything wrong." "I'll bring him with me so we can all deal with this as soon as possible. Is that okay?" "Yes..." "Ok. I need to go now. But please, the only thing I ask from you is to not cut me off again. Not like this. If I do something, talk to me. Or even if I don't, but you feel something that put you some doubts, just talk to me." "Ok. I will. I'm so sorry. Seriously. I don't even know how I can start to apologize because of this." "You can tell me tonight why this even happened in the first place. Alright?" "Yeah... I'll wait for you." As soon as the call finished, you hurried to the bathroom to fix your make up before going back to the office, but didn't result as great since you looked paled and bothered, even with all that concealer in your face. "Hey, who's that guy from before? Are you dating?" Looking at your colleague with a expression that screamed 'what?', she saw your red eyes and how you were still sniffing. "Oh, did you guys break up? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to touch in a sensible topic." "Oh, no, is not that. We weren't dating. We're just friends, really." "So why are you crying? I know you're not feeling so good lately, so I'm a little concerned. I never saw you look like this." "You don't need to bother, I'm just dealing with some stuff." "Wanna talk?" "It's a little weird topic, so it's better if I don't talk about it." "Well, if you feel like it, I'm here, ok?" "Thank you." You were so anxious about finally confessing and not knowing the reaction you'd get that the day passed quickly enough to make you even more nervous. Soon the clock was hitting the 5PM and you were heading home.  "I wish you good luck with your stuff!" The girl from before said when the elevator opened to the parking lot in the building. Thanking her once again, you got on the car and on the whole way, your mind was working on what to say to Wooyoung and Junho. What would be their reactions? And what was that about they having feelings for you? Nothing was making sense. And these questions stayed on your mind until the door bell ring loudly on the apartment just after you finished showering, but those guys behind the door didn't gave you any time to dress before. "Jeez, I was on the shower!" "Oh, sorry..." They looked like they never saw a woman in a towel before, turning their heads to the side. "Come in, I'm gonna put on some clothes." Wooyoung and Junho were sitting on the couch, looking apprehensive when you came back dressed comfy and serving some beers.  "So, are we gonna talk?" "Oh, straight to the point." "You didn't answered me in almost this whole month, come on. What's happening?"

Wooyoung looked really desperate, which only made you feel worse.  "I'm sorry I put you guys through this, but the thing is I've been dealing with something that I don't want to, and I don't know how to break the news for you." "Are you dating? That's why you don't wanna talk to us anymore? Did the guy told you to back off from us? Because if he did it, I need to talk to him." "He can't tell you what to do! Who the hell does he think he is?" "Wait, no. I'm not dating anyone." "Oh. But do you want to? Because I know a guy." Junho only looked in disbelief at Wooyoung. "Well, If I can say this, yes. But that's not up to me anymore. Not at this point." "What point?" "Ok, let's do this. The reason why I've been distant is because... I mistook what I feel. I thought it was only a deep friendship, but it's not." "What do you mean? Do you like someone?" "I do, yes." That answer hit them hard. Wooyoung felt like his heart was being crushed, while Junho started to think that what he felt could never work well.  "And that's why you stopped talking to us? That doesn't make any sense." "Well, it does for me, since I don't know how to deal with this. I mean, how could I tell to two of my closest friends that I like them?" Junho choked on his drink, being the first one to understand the situation. Wooyoung looked lost. "What are you talking about?" "I'm talking about that I like you both. I really do. And I tried to not to, but that doesn't seem to work. I thought the best I could do was staying away, since you both couldn't like me as well. And everything would be a total mess if other people found out. But Taec told me that if I don't want you both cutting me off of your life, then I shouldn't be doing this to the both of you. So here I am, confessing the reason behind the mess I made." "Are you serious?" Nodding, you finished you beer while they tried to process what you just said.  "But what do you mean by us couldn't be liking you as well?" "Ahn, I... There's no way you'd be liking me. Like, not the both of you. Not at the same time. That would be crazy." "Well, but that could happen." "How?" They looked at each other before finally breaking if off for you. "I know I'm kinda slow for a few things, but I couldn't not notice how Junho look at you, because it's the same way I look at you." "How do you guys look at me?" "Like you're the missing piece of the puzzle that's our lives." "Wait, what?" The burn in your cheeks could be felt, so you were probably looking like a tomato that moment. "We both like you. I don't know what kind of spell you put on us, but it worked well. This almost feels like magic, because it's too crazy. Even more knowing it's mutual." "Yeah. And we talked, you know. We've been friends for such a long time, so we should know how to work this out. But I wasn't prepared to you returning these feelings." "We also tried to talk to you, but since you ghosted us, it was hard. It's not something I wanted to say on the phone. Now I'm kinda lost." "We didn't think that you'd like us both, and to not break anyone's heart, we should just talk about it and move on. But how do we do this now?" "One thing is the both of us having feelings for you without any real chance of being mutual. Another thing totally different is you actually having feelings for us. At the same time. It'd be unfair to choose just one." "So are you saying we should all just forget about it and move on?" "I'm actually thinking how we all could make this work. Not breaking hearts, just healing them." "What do you have in mind?" "Well, you know, it's a new century, people are more open minded to try new stuff. Couldn't we try some arrangement?" "Like, sharing me?" "When you put it like that, sounds kinda weird. Why would we share you if we could have you entirely at the same time?" Then it hit you. The three of you, together, at the same time and in every way.  "But how could we know if this works well for us?" "Trying. Come here." Junho got up from the couch and offered you his hand to take you out of the floor. Then he held you in his toned arms, like you were so precious that could break at anytime but loose enough to not do it. His eyes focused on your lips while Wooyoung's breath hit your neck. The both of them were so close that made you intoxicated but as soon as their lips found your mouth and neck, you forgot everything but them. The feeling of being kissed by the two guys you liked the most at the same time was crazy, something you couldn't describe, but it made your body burn wanting more. More of that, more of them.  "I guess this is gonna be very good for us." "Then let me kiss you to verify this." Chuckling, you turned your back to Junho, feeling his hands attaching at your waist immediately, while his mouth traveled through your shoulders and neck. You didn't had time to think about how good that felt, because Wooyoung made your senses get lost in his sweet kiss. You felt dizzy with those two men changing all your perspective of intimacy. They only kissed you but you felt more connected to them than to anyone in your life. So the urge to feel more like that started to be build up inside of you. "We'll only go further if you agree with it." "Now that I'm finally able to be with you both, I'm afraid if I let this chance pass, it won't happen again." "I think I can speak for the both of us that if you want us, then we'll be with you." "I do. I really do." "So it's sealed, honey." "We're your men." Hearing that made your knees weak, but luckily they were holding you tight.  "Then make me your woman." Junho took that as a challenge to turn that night into the best one you have ever lived, and Wooyoung didn't thought twice before kissing you again. Your hands went to Wooyoung's chest, feeling him breathing heavier as the kiss got more heated, and just when you broke the kiss to regain some air, Junho sinked his teeth on your skin, making you feel like you would combust at anytime and moaning at the sensation.  "Should we take this to the bedroom?" "Please." Wooyoung was the first one to sit on the bed, calling you with his lips already plump, and you went like he had you laced around his finger. You made his lap your seat, kissing and biting his neck, while he slowly opened the buttons of his shirt, making easy for you to just slide the fabric to the sides while your lips tasted his smooth skin, until Junho's hand got entangled in your hair to make you look at him. His already naked chest was almost calling your lips, and you couldn't help but moan when he pressed his mouth roughly on yours while Wooyoung made you grind on his hardening cock. In no time your shirt was flying across the room, and at the same speed, Wooyoung's mouth was attached to one of your boobs.  "You look so pretty like this." You could only show Junho a little smirk because he didn't gave you enough time to even think about an answer - his fingers traveling around your body. Kissing Junho was kinda hard because the only thing your mouth wanted to do was moan how good that felt, but it became worse when you felt his hand slipping through your shorts and circling your pulsing clit, making you roll your hips to get a better friction. Wooyoung cut the teasing to get rid of the clothes on his way and Junho got the chance to lay down and call you to take off his jeans. His dick was hard against the black fabric of the boxer, and your desire to taste him only got bigger. You started to kiss his body but didn't got to tease too much - his hand on your hair directing your lips for a better use. Taking off his underwear, you left little kisses on his cock, licking and circling the tip with your tongue to adjust better in your watering mouth. His shaky moans were getting you even more wet, which Wooyoung seemed to  enjoy a lot. You could feel Wooyoung's boner poking your ass, since you were on all fours, and rolling your hips on it was one of the best decisions because he sounded so pretty getting lost on you. He couldn't wait much longer so his fingers went to your pussy to prepare you for him. "You're so wet. Is it all for us?" You could only moan in response, since your mouth was pretty busy working on Junho. "Then let's have some fun, honey." His fingers spread the wetness on your folds, not taking too long before inserting one inside you, but it wasn't enough and you wanted more. His fingers were long and touched you just right. Plus, with the way Junho was grunting under you, it wouldn't take long for your legs started to tremble. Your body was aching for more of them, and you needed to let them know. "Please, just fuck me already." "Hm, should I? What do you think, Junho?" "She's doing good, so maybe you should give it to her. Are you gonna be a good girl and spread your legs for Wooyoung, sweetheart?" "Yes, let me be good for you, Wooyoung." Your legs opened up a little more, giving him all access to your dripping pussy, but he suddenly got up from the bed and you looked at him with a puzzled expression, until you saw a package of condom on his hand. "Hurry up and take me, Wooyoung." "You're so needy for me, aren't you?" You could only moan as you were feeling his covered dick slip inside of you, making you squirm and grab Junho's thighs to regain some composure. "Looking at you, taking him so good. Are you gonna be a good girl for me too?" You almost felt embarassed because Wooyoung was going in such a good rhythm that you kinda forgot Junho also needed a release. "I want to feel you coming undone on my mouth." He left some curses under his breath while your mouth went down on his shaft, taking almost all of him at once. You felt the tip of his cock on your throath and gagged a little, taking him out of your mouth with a plop sound to regain some breath and dive in to pleasure him once again. "Take it easy, baby. Don't need to be so eager, I'm gonna be here the whole night for you." The sweet sound of his voice full of malice almost made you smile, if you weren't trying to work him up very nicely. Your right hand went to cup his balls, making him moan your name and you could swear it was the prettiest sound you have ever heard. Along with Wooyoung picking up his pace, you felt like you were in heaven. "You keep clenching on me, it feels so good." "Look at you, baby, being a good girl for us. Hm, take it all, honey. You look so pretty getting fucked." Junho's dirty talk was making you tremble. You felt your knees get weak at every filthy word that escaped through his lips, and the smirk on his face was only helping to make you reach higher and higher. "You like that dirty talk, don't you, love? Are you gonna cum on my dick? Do you want it?" You felt Wooyoung's tender voice reaching your ears while his hand went to work on your clit, making the pleasure almost unberable and you moan against Junho's twitching cock. Everything felt so good, none of you would last long at that time. Applying some pressure, you sucked Junho a little harder, making him squirm under you. "I'm so close, baby. Don't stop. Let me fill up your pretty mouth." He rolled his hips almost making you gag again, but you got a little used to it, so it only helped to reach more of him, making him gasp and call you name repeatedly as he came hard. You swallowed everything before letting go of him, focusing on Wooyoung and your pleasure at once. His hips snapped so right against yours and his fingers worked like magic on your clit, you were almost seeing stars. "Wooyoung, I'm gonna cum." "That's it, love, cum around me." You could feel his thrusts getting sloppier, your legs trembling and your walls squeezing Wooyoung's dick inside of you, while he estimulated your clit and Junho looked at you with shiny eyes, and it was too much to handle. You came undone around his shaft, moaning loud and getting breathless. Wooyoung didn't last much longer since you were holding him so nicely inside of you. You didn't want him to let go, but he made up for it pampering you with kisses while Junho looked for a towel to clean all of you. You never felt so loved before. "Do you feel good?" "Absolutely. Do you guys too?" Junho hummed positively, laying down and putting you on his embrace, and Wooyoung hugged you from behind. "Never felt better. I'm glad you accepted us." "I'm the happiest for being yours." "Ten more minutes and we're gonna make you even happier, baby." Oh, this is going to be a very good relationship. 

[softomi]

And The Best Boyfriend Award Goes To....

Nominee One: Suna Rintarou

Dreadful, that’s how you felt. You moved slowly, you slumped into your seat, you groaned. Your boyfriend wasn’t even paying attention to you. He was simply resting on his desk, head buried in his arms but you knew that he was listening. He just always liked to pretend like he couldn’t hear your whining. 

“I don’t want to be here! Babe.” You’re calling to him. 

He finally looked at you, “What’s wrong?” He still rested his head on his arms, you were following his actions. Your head resting on the desk as you looked at your boyfriend; wishing for once he could give you some sympathy.

You were pouting, “Mother nature visited me.” It was short, sweet, one of the closest ways you could address your period without actually saying it. 

“Well, what’d she say?” You almost throw your stuff at him; only he would ever ask a question like this. 

“She said I’m not pregnant.” A sigh escaped your mouth, sure this was supposed to be good news for him and you but it’s not fun when you’re the only one suffering. 

“Well.” He quirks a brow at you, “Isn’t that a good thing?” He thinks he’s funny but he wasn’t to you. 

You turn your head to look away from him, a groan on your lips, “Ugh, you’re the worst boyfriend ever. I’m dating a robot.” 

You were talking with some of your girl friends, some were also going through their own time of the month and could empathize with you. They ranted on how their own boyfriends were just as bad as yours; perhaps some of the others were just a tad bit worse. 

“Ow.” A chocolate bar bounces off your head, landing right in front of you. When you turn, you see your boyfriend standing with his hand in his pockets, “What was that for?” 

“Stop telling everyone I’m the worst boyfriend.” He hands you another chocolate bar but this time it’s one filled with almonds. He pats your head, one of the only actions he’d actually do in front of people. He walks away as he hears the group of girls coo, a blush on his cheeks when he hears you flaunting your boyfriend.

You’re smiling, taking bits of the chocolate to eat as your friends whine about jealousy. That’s how it started. 

Nominee Two: Miya Atsumu

He had just heard about what Suna did, he felt betrayed. Now he had to go above and beyond for you; you who was mad at him because when you snapped at him accidentally, he told you to chill because you were on your period. He was thinking, he was wondering,  just what beats chocolates?

“My love.” He was trying to butter you up with his sweet words, “I’m sorry.” 

You hum, “You heard about Suna didn’t you?” You shrug his hand from your arm, “Don’t try and include me in your dick measuring contest. You’re still the worst.” 

You ignored him for the rest of the school day, even during lunch when he tried to pick at your food, you swatted his hand away. He was practically pouting the entire day, shooting daggers at Suna who had his partner snuggled right up to him. He missed your hugs. 

“It’s Atsumu.” Osamu had burst into your club meeting, sweat trailing down his forehead, calling you for an emergency. 

You rushed behind the male as you two made it to the gym; Atsumu was on the ground, holding a hand to his chest as you came to his side. You were panicking, “Tsumu, are you okay? What’s wrong?” 

“I can’t.” He’s coughing until suddenly he stopped, his hand gripping the back of your neck as he pulled you down to meet his lips, “I can’t live without your kiss.” 

Needless to say, you slapped him across the face; storming out of the gymnasium as he ran behind you. You were on the verge of tears when he pulled you to look at him. 

“You’re the absolute worst, do you know that.” You hit his chest, “I thought you were actually hurt.” 

“But you’re talking to me now.” He’s smiling, “Look, I got you this.” He’s pulling a rose out from behind him, “It’s a secret though, I snagged it from the garden club’s rose bushes. They banned me after the last time I stole their tulips for you.” He watches your eyes soften with the rose, “Am I forgiven? Am I the best boyfriend now?”

You take the rose from him, “Fine, but as consequence, you need to snap a video of you buying pads, chocolates, and flowers to all the members of the volleyball club.” 

Nominee Three: Miya Osamu 

Club activities weren’t over but you watched as Atsumu and his girlfriend reconciled out in the courtyard. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t jealous, you had heard about his stupid plan from your own boyfriend. You didn’t think she would actually fall for that; but as your own boyfriend approached you in the hall, you told yourself you weren’t going to fall for his sweetness. 

“Hey, don’t walk away from me.” Osamu follows behind you, “You still mad?” 

“I don’t know, are you still stupid?” Yes, you were still angered and annoyed. He invited you to go swimming over the weekend but when you told him you were on your period, he told you to just hold it in. It wasn't the dumbest thing he’s ever said to you but the fact was that he wasn’t considerate enough when you tried to explain that girls just can’t hold it in; instead he high fived his bros as if it was a joke. 

“How many times are you gonna make me say sorry?” He’s still following you. 

You don’t even look back at him, “The fact that you have to ask means that it hasn’t been enough.” 

He’s sighing, “What do you want? Flowers? Chocolates? A giant teddy bear? I’ll rob Atsumu for you.” 

You were so close, so close to cracking a smile but you kept your composure; turning to him abruptly. For a second he thinks you’ll come running into his arms; heck, he’s even got his arms out ready for you. 

“Go out into the courtyard, profess your undying love for me.” You coldly turn away. 

You knew he wouldn’t do it, he was too reserved to be shouting professions of love out in the open for everyone to hear. Even when he confessed his feelings for you, he hid you between the corners of the library; handing you a love letter before scampering off shyly. But you didn’t know the extent his feelings of love reached, you didn’t know that he would literally do anything for you. 

“Hey.” Your friend came running into the classroom, a large grin and giggle on her face, “There’s a crazy person out in the courtyard.” She looks at you, “He kind of looks like your boyfriend.” 

Your heart drops, you’re running to the windows, opening them to see him proudly standing in the middle of the courtyard with a megaphone, “Can you hear me?” 

Students have now gathered from all the windows, the crowd answers a screeching ‘yes’ to him. 

“I love my girlfriend y/n.” He looks straight at you. 

You’re blushing profoundly as he opens his mouth once more, a teacher comes running out of the building. Students are laughing as he’s being scolded by the teacher. You meet him when he comes out of the office, your hand tucked behind your back. 

“You’re stupid.” You say to him, draping his arm over your shoulder. He puts a tight hold on you. 

“For you I am.” He kisses your hair.

The Winner: Kita Shinsuke 

Ah, young love. It made you want to laugh, the way the second years were running around the school trying to cease their lover’s anger. It also made you smile, the way your own boyfriend was bending backwards for his younger friends. The three stooges had all come to you one by one; of the three, Suna was definitely the only one who listened. 

“Where’s Kita?” 

One of your friends had come to visit you in the gymnasium, you looked up, the pencil in your hand tapped against your chin, “I think he’s at the office, Osamu got in trouble.” 

“Typical of the second years.” Your friend mutters before she bids you a farewell. 

It wasn’t long until he showed up, slight annoyance on his expression, “Sorry.” 

You’re leaning forward, a grin on your lips, “No need. What happened with Osamu?” 

Kita frowns, “He has to do a week of clean up duty after school, meaning we’ll be down a hitter for our practice match Friday.” He’s about to return to practice when he suddenly remembers, “Oh, here, I accidentally activated it on the way here.” 

You take the small heat pack from him, the warmth taking over your palm, “What’s this for?” 

“Your cramps.” He drapes his jacket over you, “If you put it in the pocket, you can use it to apply heat on where it hurts the most.” 

You were blushing, your lips suddenly in a pout, “How perfect are you.” You’re opening your arms for him, inviting him for a hug to which he can’t refuse. You press a kiss onto his cheek, “Best boyfriend indeed.” 

It’s the one time you’ll see his face go red, it’s as if he’s buffering for a second before going back to his normal stature. Composed, poised, and calm; he turns back to the team. His hands on his hips as he starts to give a lecture on how significant others shouldn’t be distracting the players from the game. 

“But.” Suna raises a hand, “How come your girlfriend can come to our practice and ours can’t?” 

Kita freezes, as the team looks back on you; your attempting to hide the growing smile on your face. He was definitely caught; it was true, technically you weren’t supposed to be in the gym. 

The captain coughs, “She’s our unofficial manager, so she’s allowed to be here.” 

“If that’s the case, my girlfriend’s the unofficial manager too.” The men snicker at the comment thrown into the crowd but their laughs suddenly cease when Kita steps forward. 

“Ten laps around the school yard, everyone, now.”