#its finally MY friday... i can finally relax... and watch

[luvmahae]

just finished xo kitty szn 2 and it just made me wanna rewatch tatbil all over again... i also love minho....

[ahundredtimesover]

Something About You (03) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: friends au, vacation au, slow burn, romcom-ish vibe; adulting; inspired by AYS; PE teacher!JK and researcher!OC; fluff, comfort, smut (?)

Chapter Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption, minor injury (18+)

Word count: 17.9k

Series Masterlist

Status: Complete

Series Summary: You and Jungkook have been friends for a decade. And while he’s the charming and dependable, often reserved boy-next-door, he’s also just been a friend - a constant in your life, a part of a whole, and someone who’s seen all the flawed and probably unattractive sides of you.

A resumption of your friend group’s out-of-town trips has caused you to spend more time with him. And somewhere in between the morning coffee in the forest, running around in the snow, and watching the sunset on a boat, he’s become something more. And you’re not quite sure how to deal with it.

🎶: Beautiful Soul by Jesse McCartney || Yes or No by Jungkook

A/N: My favorite Koo look! Hope you're enjoying this series so far!

[From: kook] Leaving in a bit. Be there in 20.”

You turn off your laptop camera and quickly give Jungkook a call, wanting him to hear your cutesy, pleading voice for this request.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asks on the other end.

“Hello to my amazing friend. I’ve run out of tea and I really need one,” you cry out. “Do you think you can get or make me a cup? Please?”

“Sure, there’s a cafe near my place,” he chuckles. “Anything specific?”

“Chamomile or jasmine,” you respond. “Thank you! I’ll see you in a bit!”

You end the call and quickly get back to your meeting, your fourth one of the day, and it’s only been seven hours since you clocked in at work. You’re thankful for work-from-home Fridays but somehow they’re even more tiring, at least recently, given the upcoming holidays and people taking their respective leaves. 

Like many at your firm, it’s your last day before you take a few weeks off then return in early January. Everyone’s doing end-of-year meetings and pre-planning for next year. There are financial reports to submit and project updates to consolidate. You were able to get all the paperwork done overnight so you could focus on your meetings during the day and you just can’t wait for it to be over so you can completely switch off.

“I guess that wraps it up,” your manager says after you provide a progress summary of all your ongoing research projects. “You got everything on-track and we’ll be starting next year on a good note. Thank you, ___. You deserve this break.”

“We all do,” you smile. “Enjoy the break, everyone! I’ll see you next year.”

You end the meeting and drop your head on your desk. Today was a marathon and you feel like you’re still running on adrenaline so you take deep breaths to calm yourself down. You’ve got a couple of days of vacation with your friends and then several more with your family when you go to your hometown and that technically starts right now. 

So you turn off your laptop, clear out your desk, and do a final check of your things before dressing up in time for Jungkook’s arrival in five minutes. 

He’s already standing by the trunk of his car when you scurry down the driveway and drag your luggage to meet him. You apologize for making him wait but he waves you off to say that it’s okay. You load your things and quickly get into the passenger seat.

“Here’s your tea,” Jungkook says, handing you a hot cup that you excitedly receive. 

You take a sip and hum in satisfaction at its warmth. The scent and the taste are already making you feel better, and you sink in your seat at the comfort it gives you. Releasing a drawn out hum, you feel your muscles slowly relax.

“Looked like you needed that, huh?” Jungkook says as he starts driving.

You’re both headed to the airport where you'll meet your other friends who are on their way there after work, too. Living close to Jungkook, he offered to pick you up so that there’s only one of your cars you’ll leave at the parking for the duration of your trip to Sapporo.

“Totally. I was up until 4AM getting all of my paper work done,” you sigh.

“And what time did you wake up?”

“7:30.”

“Yah, that’s not a healthy sleeping habit,” he reprimands you.

“Says the guy who used to do exactly that,” you point out.

“Those were college days. I’m an adult now, you know? I get at least seven hours of sleep because any less and I’d be a dysfunctional mess.”

“It’s so weird how we’re at that age where we require a lot of hours of sleep but then in 10 years’ time, our body will just decide it can survive with four.”

“We produce less melatonin as we age,” he informs you. “But you know what’s funny about my 4 - 10 AM sleeping pattern before? People thought I was up studying but I was really just playing video games for most of it.”

“Oh I’m not surprised,” you shake your head. “I already knew you're the one who influenced Jimin’s sleeping habits. He used to follow a strict curfew and then you messed it up.”

“Yeah and now he thanks me because he’s now used to it. He says it’s how he survives his job.”

“Working in advertising requires that, I guess,” you frown. “At least he gets to have a break. At least we all do! I am completely shutting off so please call me out if I talk about work.”

“Sure, that’ll be fun,” he chuckles. “Can I call you out on other things, too?”

You make a face at him and say he’ll do that anyway even if you tell him not to.

You yawn for the third time in the past minute and Jungkook turns to you. 

“Sleep. It’s a long drive so might as well get some of your energy back,” he says. “I’ll wake you up when we’re there.”

“Okay,” you say as you yawn again. “If I snore… just suck it up.”

He playfully rolls his eyes then points to the lever that adjusts the seat so you can lie down more comfortably. He puts some mellow music on and you fall asleep instantly, curled against your arms and soft snores escaping you. 

Jungkook can only laugh to himself as he sneaks glances at you during the ride. It was about a month ago when he told himself that the way to deal with this maybe harmless and fleeting crush he has for you is to spend less time together. That was only slightly possible because there was some lunch or dinner with your friends every weekend, but it wasn’t as if not seeing you meant he wasn’t thinking about you. 

Of course he still was. He thought about you a lot and wondered how you were doing. For the first time, he was thankful for his stressful job and the busy days of making student reports for the end of the semester, which meant he couldn’t always meet you every time you asked if he was done with work or if he was in the area where you were. He was always tempted to just drop things to see you but he knew that would make things more complicated for him. 

But then again, he hasn’t even fully grasped exactly what he feels yet. Is it admiration? A newfound fondness? Did he just need to rid himself of some past baggage that he didn’t even realize he was carrying for things to make sense to him? 

Regardless, he knew that spending more time with you - for an extended period of time, and in close proximity - isn’t going to make things easier. But Taehyung just had to spring this trip on all of you and no one could refuse because he’s actually the other baby of the group that everyone has a soft spot for and he’s leaving for who knows how long again in a few months. 

Jungkook’s not complaining at the least because he’d go anywhere with his friends. He just finds it a bit comical that this is exactly what he said he shouldn’t be doing but here he is now - on another long drive with you asleep next to him, with a two-plus hour flight ahead to a city he always wanted to go to, and a few days of winter coldness that might cause him to seek your warmth in one way or another. Or you might seek his for all he knows and that might actually be worse.

He just shakes his head and focuses on the road after glancing at you again. He’s not really the type to overthink things. He’s fared well in most aspects of his life by going with the flow and dealing with whatever comes his way. 

Though his relationships are another story, he supposes those youthful years were characterised by a level of insecurity and lack of trust in himself that made him hold onto things that didn’t feel right. He thinks he’s a lot more mature now - he’ll have conviction in whatever he feels for you, whatever it is, and he’ll accept rejection if that’s where it’ll lead to. 

He’ll see where things go but for now, what matters is that he, you, and all of your friends get to enjoy this trip as much as possible.

Jungkook finally makes it to the airport and checks in his car for a few days of parking. He wakes you up and you take a while to open your eyes. He pats your head when you do and reminds you that you’ll have more time to sleep on the plane.

You dazedly drag your luggage and you pout at Jungkook who giggles at your sleepy state. 

“I’m so tired,” you pout at him as you both make your way to the check-in area where the rest of your friends are waiting.

“I can tell. Let’s just get through the gates and then you can sleep somewhere there, okay?”

You nod as if you’ll cry any moment, and part of him wants to just pull you close so you can lean on him while you sleep but that might be too unexpected so he just puts his hand on your shoulder to stop you from falling. 

“Princess can’t stay awake?” Jimin’s voice cuts through the airport chatter.

“She barely got any sleep last night and she had meetings all day,” Jungkook informs your friends who have gathered where you are. 

“Aww, poor thing,” Jimin hums as he hugs you, and you respond by hugging him tighter.

“Let’s get to the gates then,” Yoongi orders. “There are lots of places we can eat and rest at.”

You all line up and slowly get through the check-in line before you’re able to head to the gates. Gyu-rim finds a table big enough for 12 at a restaurant and while all of them order their meals, you stay seated, with your head on Jimin’s shoulder and on your way to dreamland once again. 

“Let’s take turns,” Mo-eum tells him, as she finishes her rice bowl first then shifts your head to lean on hers after.

You briefly wake up to have a few spoonfuls of your bulgogi before offering the rest to Jungkook and then taking quick naps again. You’ve seriously never been this tired. But you feel like your body knew it could afford to just shut down because you’re on vacation. It just didn’t plan it well enough because you’re in the middle of the airport, just randomly dozing off. 

You finally board the plane and find that you’re seated next to Jungkook who’s on the window seat, and Taehyung and Mo-eum are on the row in front of you, while an aisle separates you from Jimin. It’s a good enough arrangement, and Jungkook helps you load your carry-on in the overhead compartment before you take your seat and immediately rest your head on his shoulder.

It’s a natural thing for you to do, and you suppose your friends are used to you by now. You make yourself comfortable then look up to smile at Jungkook.

“I’m gonna fall asleep once we take-off,” you tell him.

“I’m sure you will,” he chuckles, as he looks through the emergency instructions. 

“Have we sat next to each other on a flight before?” You ask.

“Uh, I think this one flight to Jeju,” Jungkook responds. “But that was some time ago. I might’ve been asleep then.”

“Hmm, that’s why,” you hum.

“What?”

“I didn’t realize how comfy you are.”

“It’s probably the clothes, ___,” he reasons, more to himself. “I need them to be fluffy and warm because it’s winter.”

You adjust yourself again before resettling your head on his side.

“Maybe.”

Jungkook doesn’t overthink it. You’ve leaned on his shoulder lots of times before. This isn’t out of the ordinary. But with you pointing out that you haven’t really sat next to each other on flights before reminds him again of how you’ve always just been part of the whole. And now he’s got this time and proximity with you and it’s comforting but also exciting.

Even if yes, he’s just playing games on his phone while you flick through the airplane magazine while waiting for take-off. Once you’re up in the air and the seatbelt light has turned off, you push back your seat and start dozing off.

Your head keeps slipping from the position it’s in, even as he tries to straighten it so you don’t hurt your neck in the process. Perhaps out of discomfort, you briefly wake up to unlatch the table then lay the pillow and your head on it. Even then, it constantly bounces from the slight turbulence so you sit back again and shift your body in search of the right position. 

Jungkook sees you cross your arms against your chest and assumes you’re cold, but just as he’s about to cover you with his airline-provided blanket, Mo-eum peeks her head from between the seats. 

“She needs to hug something when she’s asleep,” your best friend says. 

“Oh, uh—”

You curl your body in the seat and snore softly, and Jungkook can sense your body’s need for a proper position. So he lightly taps you awake, grabs a spare hoodie from his bag on the floor, then places it on his lap. He gestures towards it and you take the offer, immediately pulling up the arm rest and laying half of your body on top of his. 

You bend your legs and adjust yourself. You have your pillow on top of his jacket that’s on top of his lap, your blanket over you and then his blanket for you to hug. You release a low moan then your breathing steadies. Figuring out your position must’ve tired you, but with how fast you’ve fallen asleep, he figures you’ve found the right one.

Is he glad it’s on his lap? Not exactly, and only because it’s a kind of closeness he’s not used to with you, and he’s worried he’d look for it. But it doesn’t matter because you’re comfortable and he’d gladly help you get that much deserved rest in whatever way. Even if it’s at the cost of his stupid heart. 

Mo-eum peeks again to check on you and giggles when she sees where you ended up. She turns around and kneels on her seat to take a photo of you slumped on Jungkook’s lap while the said man poses. 

“Cute,” she smiles, before sitting back down and showing it to her seatmate.

It prompts Taehyung to turn around, too, laughing under his breath at how Jungkook is trying to figure out where to place his hands, now that you’ve hijacked his personal space. 

But Jungkook does figure it out, as he holds onto your arm to keep you from falling in case there’s another turbulence. Thankfully there isn’t, and when it’s announced that the plane will now start its descent so everyone must sit upright, he wakes you up and tells you that you’ll be landing soon.

You were in deep sleep and having a good dream that you don’t remember and the next thing you know, someone’s shaking your arm and telling you to wake up. Feeling like you’re on a bed, you shift your body and stretch your arms. But then you hear a groan and you look up to see Jungkook glaring at you.

“Did I hit your face?” You gasp, suddenly sitting up then turning his chin to check any damage. “I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

“You hit my jaw,” he groans. “But yeah, I’m fine.”

“Oops,” you sweetly smile. 

“Hey, you don’t apologize like that to me or Jimin when you hit our faces,” Taehyung remarks, turning his head and cocking his eyebrow. 

“That’s because Kook has a precious nose that must always be protected,” you reply with a straight face. “You don’t.”

“Yah!” Jungkook exclaims, knowing it’s a running joke in your group.

He pinches you in retaliation but you giggle at him and pinch his cheeks in response. 

“I’m kidding. Thanks, Kook. I’ve regained my energy and now I feel ready to take on the day,” you confidently say.

“___, it’s 9:30 PM,” Jungkook deadpans. 

“I’m really hungry, too,” you add, disregarding his statement.

“So now we have to deal with an energetic and hungry you? At this hour?” Jungkook groans. 

“Order food with me when we get to the hotel?” You ask, not minding his complaints. 

“And if it’s closed?”

“The convenience store, then!”

“Now I’m the one who’s tired.”

“No, you’re not! You can’t be!” You pout at him with your puppy eyes.

“Fine, whatever,” he gives in as he always does.

You’re talking about the dream you don’t remember when the sight of the snow-capped streets catches Jungkook’s attention. You see his doe-eyes go wide and he looks so innocent,  but you understand the amusement - it looks stunning outside and you can’t wait to bury yourself in the pillowy ice and breathe in the chilly air.

Both of you just look out while waiting to land and disembark. You manage to get all your luggage quickly then head to three separate rented cars to drive to your lodging for tonight.

The hotel restaurant isn’t taking orders anymore so you announce to the group that you and Jungkook are going to the convenience store across the street. Jimin, Namjoon, and Suhyeon join you, and you’re skipping out the lobby to get your snacks in no time. 

Jungkook tells you to be careful because the roads are slippery but you show-off your sliding skills that make you feel like you’re ice skating. He copies you and shows off, too, speeding his leg movements as he walks down an icier path.

But then he slips and falls to the ground, and you can’t help the way you laugh at his mishap. You can hear your other three friends laughing as they walk towards you, and Jungkook remains lying on the ground, laughing, too.

“You’re so clumsy,” you mock him, as it’s one of the things he says to you whenever you fall or hit something. 

“I was just trying to show you what not to do,” he makes a face before taking the hand you’ve reached out for him to take. “So don’t go skating and shit, okay? You might hurt yourself.”

“I won’t. I’m not a show-off nor a klutz,” you say and stick your tongue out.

He frowns at you then pulls you by your cheek to enter the store.

You, Jimin, and Jungkook stay together while you go around and drop various things in your basket that you think Taehyung and Mo-eum would like, too. You all get some chips, matcha cookies, chocolates, mini-cakes, instant ramen, beer... and about a dozen tuna mayo triangle kimbap because Jungkook is obsessed with them. You meet Namjoon and Suhyeon at the counter where they’ve filled their basket with a bunch of other things as well then head back to the hotel.

As is often the arrangement, the five of you share a suite while your seven other friends share one as well, and you make your way to the living room where all your purchases have been dumped on the table. 

Being that you barely had dinner and Jungkook’s stomach is a bottomless pit, both of you make ramen and get one rice ball each while the rest munch on snacks and dessert. Spread across the couch and the floor, you all hold up your beer cans and make a toast to this trip. 

Later that night, you watch the snow fall from the window as you sip the chamomile tea that Jungkook bought for you at the store. The city is beautiful at this hour and it feels cozy and romantic and exciting yet peaceful all at once. It’s a kind of feeling you’ve always wanted to experience, and now you know how a place can make you feel that way. 

Like all the times your mind has travelled somewhere, you suddenly wonder if it’s possible with a person. And if maybe, somewhere in this town, they’re right by their window, thinking the same thing, too.

You wake up to the sound of your alarm the next morning. For the brief moment right before you open your eyes, you feel that sense of relief over what turned out to be a really good sleep. 

Despite being knocked out the whole flight then eating and drinking late at night, you managed to get enough rest. You’ve truly switched off now. All you can think about are the sights you’ll see and food you’ll eat and all the time you’ll spend just walking through the snowy streets. 

The last time you all went to Japan, it was an action-packed trip. You went to amusement parks and went partying at night. This time, everyone decided on taking things slow. Sapporo’s perfect for that, and you suppose it’s what you all need.

Sitting up from the bed, you see that you’ve kicked your blanket off the edge while Mo-eum is cocooned under the sheets. You like the cold and you wish you had the aircon at a lower temperature, but your best friend freezes easily so you let the room stay warm. 

You tap her on the foot as an attempt to wake her up before heading out to the living area. The boys are in the other room and they seem to still be asleep. Wanting to see how the sun shines on the street outside, you pull open the curtains to let the light in and the way it does makes things look more enchanting.

But then a grunting sound disrupts your moment, prompting you to turn around.

It takes five seconds for you to notice Jungkook, who had camouflaged on the black couch with his black shirt and sweatpants and his arms behind his head. He seems to have slept there, as evidenced by the rearranged pillows and his half-lidded eyes gazing at you. The sun probably woke him up, so you apologize and try to close the curtains but he tells you it’s okay.

“Did you sleep here?” You ask, as you sit on the other end of where he is.

He groggily nods his yes.

“It was too hot in the room. Tae and Jimin had the aircon on fan mode.”

“Oh, that sucks,” you say. “Mo-eum had the temp high, too, and I ended up kicking my blanket on the floor. I like it cold.”

“Me, too,” Jungkook hums. “Good thing the couch is comfy.”

“You and Mo-eum can just switch places then,” you suggest. “The three warmies can stay in one room and you and I can enjoy a cold night.”

If Jungkook wasn’t awake five seconds ago, now he is. It’s not like he’s never shared a room with you before but with his little feelings recently, it might as well be the first time. He knows he can stay up with you just talking or saying nothing at all. You could also pass out and snore like crazy but then again, he wouldn’t mind that either. It’ll just be something new he’d tease you about, as if your snoring video that he shows to your friends isn’t enough.

“Sounds good,” he manages to say. 

Yawning as he stretches, he asks you what the itinerary is for the day.

“Do you not read the group chat?” You laugh at him. “The schedule is pinned on there.”

“Not really.”

“How do you ever know what’s going on, then?”

“I wait for Jimin or Tae to tell me when it’s about something important because they know I don’t check messages,” he shrugs. 

“You’re weird,” you playfully roll your eyes. “But anyway. We’re gonna have lunch, go to a beer museum, go to a mountain, check the–”

“You’re climbing?” He exclaims.

“We go by cable car, duh! Do you expect me to climb? In this weather?”

“You wouldn’t do it either way.”

“Excuse me, I climbed that mountain in Chungbuk,” you remind him.

“You mean I dragged you,” he chuckles. “And come on, ___. That wasn’t a mountain mountain. It was a short hike because we were already on the mountain. I just wanted to know if I had to drag your ass again or something.”

You make faces while he talks, prompting him to hit you with the small pillow.

“Yah!” You whine, hitting him back. 

Jungkook turns into a childish man when he’s challenged or provoked. He tends to be nonchalant about most things but you also know that he likes to play around and tease. He also likes to show off his athleticism and agility because now, as you try to hit him back again, he’s effectively dodging you while landing his pillow shots on your face.

“Kook, I’m gonna get your annoying ass,” you groan, grabbing the bigger pillow and then hitting him a little harder, knowing it’s not gonna affect him anyway. 

This dude is built like a brick. It just doesn’t seem like it because he’s always in loose clothes, but you know enough that not much hurts him. But you’re so into the pillow fight that he ends up lying down on the couch while you sit on top of him, your legs wrapped around his waist, and he’s there chuckling and blocking your hits. 

You take a rest, essentially giving him an opening. But instead of attacking, he turns to you and places his hands behind his head.

“Okay fine, I’ll let you make one last hit then we call it quits,” he says, challenging you.

You consider it, and as you act like you’re going to smack his face, you instead drop the pillow and make a tiny pinch on the sliver of his stomach that’s been exposed from all his movements. He yelps in pain and you manage to get off him in time, or else he would’ve easily wrestled you or turned you over.

He chases after you to the kitchen though, and you’re definitely not fast enough for the Jeon Jungkook. Before you know it, you’re getting pulled by your shirt and being tickled in your torso that you easily give up, facing him in submission then catching your breath.

“You’re such a brat,” he frowns. “That hurt.”

He slightly raises his shirt and discovers the red mark on his stomach that you caused.

You gasp in surprise; you didn’t realize you hurt him that bad. You pout then hug him - a reflex almost because this is how you apologize to your friends when you get a little too intense - and apologize.

“Nah, a hug won’t cut it,” he says, not returning the act.

You look up at him with sorry eyes.

“Coffee?”

“Nope.”

“A 6-pack in the beer museum later?” You sweetly smile, knowing that’s his weakness.

He gives in. “Deal.”

“Wow, that was easy,” you chuckle as you let go of him. 

“You leave a mark, you get me beer. It’s that simple,” he shrugs. 

“I bet it didn’t even really hurt,” you cock an eyebrow.

“___, it’s literally red. Look. It might even have a bit of your nail stuck in there.”

He pulls up his shirt again to show you the crescent on his abdomen and though you feel sorry, you also can’t help but tease.

“Show-off,” you stick your tongue out.

“Hey, I worked hard on that.”

“I’m sure, and they look great,” you flash a smile. 

“Kook, why are you giving ___ a private show this early in the morning?” Jimin says as he enters the kitchen. 

Jungkook tries not to look scandalized at the comment even if he knows it’s just his best friend’s way of teasing.

“She pinched me.”

“The tiny, painful kind?” Jimin asks.

“Yes. And I was just showing her the damage.”

Jimin turns to you with a disapproving look. “You’re a brat.”

“I said I was sorry,” you pout at Jungkook again. 

You look adorable and he can’t really be angry. 

“She’ll make it up to me with beer at least.”

“That’s not too bad,” Jimin laughs. “Just be her punching bag and you’ll end up with lots of free things.”

Jungkook chuckles in agreement and proceeds to boil water for coffee. It’s 10:30 AM and you’re set to meet the rest of your friends in an hour for lunch, so you munch on another triangle kimbap and some snacks then get dressed.

As you’re going down the stairs to the lobby, you slow down to walk with Jungkook and you turn to him.

“You’re not mad, right? I’m sorry again,” you say softly.

There’s an innocence in your eyes as you utter the words and Jungkook has to stop himself from engulfing you in a hug. 

It’s fondness, he convinces himself. It’s this tenderness that always cuts through at the end that gets him. You can be playful and rowdy and unforgiving sometimes but you’re affectionate and gentle and it catches him off guard. He doesn’t know why it’s never affected him like this before because he knows you’ve been like this to him before.

“I’m not,” he says, nudging your shoulder in assurance. “It’s stopped hurting and your nail marks will go away. You’re all good.”

“Good. We don’t want blemishes on those pretty abs,” you wink.  

He laughs in your wake. He hopes the fondness he feels for you stays. He also hopes that’s all there really is.

The ramen place you find for lunch is a tiny restaurant that manages to fit all of you. You and Taehyung moan in satisfaction at the richness of the broth, content with your weak people’s palette that can only handle the lowest level of spiciness, whereas Jimin next to you winces because he definitely didn’t expect his level 7 to be that hot. But still, he says it’s one of the most delicious things he’s ever eaten and you’d have to agree. 

The restaurant is buzzing in chatter and laughter because of all of you, especially when Gyu-rim calls out Jungkook’s bottomless pit of a stomach once again.

He ordered chashu don with his ramen but is on his second serving of the rice bowl after Suhyeon offered the one she couldn’t finish. 

“You know how normal people stop eating after they’re full?” He says. “I end up eating five more portions.”

“Oh, we know,” most of you answer in unison. 

“How good is it anyway?” You ask.

“Dude, it’s so good,” he moans, furrowing his brows; he tends to look angry when the food is delicious.

You open your mouth to signal that you want to try it and Jungkook prepares a spoonful for you. He’s about to hand it over but then you stand and lean over the table, so he feeds you and tips the spoon to make sure you get everything in your mouth.

It’s something he’s done with you lots of times before but this feels different. There’s that fuzzy feeling of doing this intimate act for you, even as a friend. 

Because it’s just that, he reminds himself - an act of affection towards a person dear to him.

You hum with a full mouth with how good it is and urge Mo-eum to try as well, so Jungkook feeds her, too - something completely normal that doesn't elicit any unusual warm feeling. But he can’t keep his eyes off you still chewing your food while asking for another spoonful with the ramen broth this time after he said it was even better together.

You lean over again and Yoongi tells you to just order your own. 

“We’re not in a rush. We can stay here for as long as you all want,” Hoseok - the one who keeps you all on track with schedules during your trips - says.

You smile in response then scurry to the ticket machine to order more. You’re served two bowls not long after, and you announce that you got another one so each person can try it at least once, starting with Jimin who gets two spoonfuls. 

You prepare one yourself and lean over to Jungkook to feed him this time. He’s caught off guard but he opens his mouth in time before you complain that he’s taking too long. Returning to your seat, you get another bite for yourself then another.

“Yah, I gave you two spoonfuls,” Jungkook reminds you.

“Get from the other bowl,” you frown at him. “That’s why I got two!”

He laughs, only wanting to rile you up, but he does finish what your friends couldn’t, and there he goes again with his unnecessary fifth portion.

Once you’ve finished, you head to a local park that’s covered in snow. Jimin immediately runs and dives on one of the mounds he sees and you follow, loving the pillowy ice almost as much as he does. Soon enough, Mo-eum, Jungkook, and Taehyung are next to you, lying down and making snow angels, all the while giggling like little kids.

Your seven older friends all stand around and watch with the softest smiles on their faces.

“This is why we came here, right?” Hoseok hums. “To watch them be like this?”

“It’s like I’m watching our grown up children,” Yoongi says.

“We’re two years apart,” Gyu-rim points out. “They’re not that young.”

“I don’t know. I kinda feel like they are,” Yoongi replies.

“You’re just old,” she counters, quietly laughing when the other man chuckles to himself.

It’s a struggle getting off the ground when it’s so soft and cold. But your jacket is also added weight and you’re scolding yourself for not being agile like your friends who can easily get up and then run further into the park.

“Kook, help me,” you plead with your legs bent to your sides and your one arm raised. “I can’t carry myself.”

Jungkook sighs but pulls you anyway. You pant as you try to walk towards the frozen pond and he teases by saying that you probably need a piggyback ride or something.

“Will you give me one?” You smile sweetly.

“Nope,” he smiles back, and you pout at him in return. 

He easily could, but Jungkook - normally - likes to tease you. He gives in most times, but he’s been trying to recall how he was prior to these possible feelings surfacing and he remembers that there were times when he turned you down or argued with you first before granting your request. 

He’s trying to balance it out for that sense of normalcy he wants to maintain. He can’t have anyone, especially you, suspecting him of treating you differently, even if deep down, he wants to give you that piggyback ride or hold your hand while dragging you all the way to the center of the park. 

But he goes with the latter. Similar to what he did during your hike months ago, he pulls you by the wrist until you reach the pond. 

He watches you look around in awe. He does the same while stealing glances and he hopes no one notices. He’s not really ready to explain himself to anyone about something he’s still trying to make sense of.

The hour flies by. You spend it just walking around and having mini snowball fights where you all ban Jungkook because he was making snow boulders and burying Jimin in them. You buy coffee from a park stall and finish it by the time you’re back in your cars.

You head to a Beer Museum after. The building itself is stunning and you spend time just admiring it. Inside, you explore Sapporo and Hokkaido’s history and take time reading and watching the information presented. Jungkook, of course, heads straight away to the tasting section and begins eyeing which drinks he wants to sample.

He loves beer, which is ironic for a PE teacher who teaches his students about healthy living but like he says, too much of something is what makes it unhealthy. Plus, there are doctors who have worse vices and so he gets a pass. 

And maybe he’s right. Jungkook has a high tolerance for many things and he knows when to stop but you also know he truly enjoys the taste, and not just the social aspect of drinking it. 

You’re still exploring, as you’re more interested in learning more than drinking, but most of your friends have already gone ahead, with only Suhyeon and Hoseok walking alongside you.

“Don’t forget that you promised me a six-pack,” Jungkook reminds you once you get to him.

“Why, what did you do?” Gyu-rim asks you, knowing that’s the only reason you’d agree to buy Jungkook something.

“She pinched me on the stomach this morning and it left a mark,” Jungkook narrates. “It hurt like hell.”

“Is that why you were showing your abs to ___ in the kitchen?” Taehyung asks. “I was half asleep but I saw you. I thought you were being kinky or something.”

“I said the same thing!” Jimin exclaims, causing your friends to laugh.

“Yah! I had to show her proof because she didn’t wanna believe me!” Jungkook defends. 

“Because you don’t even get hurt!” You answer back. 

“Wow, that’s deep,” Jimin hums. “And totally off-mark. Kook is a sensitive one.”

“Yeah, but his body isn’t,” you pout, knowing exactly what your best friend means. 

Jungkook laughs it off then returns to his beer tasting, claiming that he wants three cans of two different exclusive flavors. You agree and taste them at his insistence and decide to buy a variety of alcohol as well. 

It’s close to sunset when you finish, then you all head to Mt. Moiwa for some scenery. It’s a chilly and entertaining ride to the top, with Hoseok and Jimin going from amused to terrified in seconds, and you’re glad you decided to join their cable car instead of Jungkook and Mo-eum who’d probably be dancing around because they’re not really scared of anything.

As you expected, the view is pretty special. Everything is blanketed in snow and the city lights add that urban charm. You stay there until the sun has completely set before going to your final stop of the night - the Christmas Market. It’s something you’ve always wanted to experience, so all of you walk through the streets and look at every stall for something to buy or taste.

Jimin and Yoongi try some mulled wine and Namjoon buys some cute figurines. Seokjin and Hayoung buy something to commemorate their last overseas trip before getting married, and you and Suhyeon munch on a pretzel. 

And then there’s Jungkook - a gourmet sausage on one hand and a donut on the other. 

“Kook, we still have dinner. You know that, right?” Hoseok laughs from next to him, clearly amused at how his younger friend can still have an appetite. 

“Of course he does, that’s why he’s eating all this now so he has space for more later on,” Gyu-rim states. “Go on, Kook. Eat to your heart’s content.”

You stand next to Jungkook as you wait for Suhyeon who said she’ll order hot chocolate for you.

“Is it good?” You ask.

“Yup,” he mumbles. “Try some!”

Like always, you open your mouth and he feeds you the donut, prompting you to complain that sweets always go last. He just laughs at you and waits for you to finish chewing before letting you bite off his sausage.

“That’s good,” you hum, uncaring about the juice that drips on the side of your mouth.

“Yah,” Jungkook groans. He takes his napkin and wipes it off your face. “Are you a child?”

“You literally eat with sauce all over your face,” you call him out.

“And you’ve never wiped them off. Gee, thanks,” he counters.

“You’re an adult.”

“And so are you,” he chuckles while he continues to wipe you clean. 

You stand there, clad in a loose jacket and a beanie that makes you look adorable, and he can’t help but smile once again. You’re such a handful sometimes but he likes this. He likes giving in to your requests and watching you enjoy it and maybe cleaning up your mess, too. He likes seeing you appreciate the things that he does. He likes knowing you’re curious about what he’s up to and then sharing it with him.

He doesn’t recall ever caring this much but he’s down that slope of finding everything you do so captivating that he might as well smile every time you breathe.

Suddenly he feels silly, and he makes a face at you to mask whatever he’s feeling. 

You leave him once Suhyeon calls and Jungkook’s left there to shake his head and internally scold himself to get it together.

You return to the hotel, drop your things in your rooms, then head to the restaurant for dinner. It’s a spread of premium meat, hotpot that tastes like cabbage water, and some of the freshest seafood you’ve ever had. 

You jump in your seat in delight and Jungkook does the same. After all the bickering, you know that both of you love food so much even if he enjoys it because he knows how it’s supposed to taste, whereas for you, most things are just delicious. It’s just funny that you’re only realizing now that both of you react to things pretty much the same way.

You’re back in the suite by 10 PM, and the five of you take turns in the bathroom while the boys play a card game with push-ups as punishment for the loser while you and Mo-eum act as both penalty enforcer and cheerleader. 

The tiredness from the day slowly creeps in so you all retire to your rooms, upholding this morning’s agreement about who’s sleeping where. 

Jungkook lies down on Mo-eum’s bed and half wishes that he’ll fall asleep soon so that he doesn’t have to spend more of this time alone with you. The last time that happened, his heart was doing weird things and now that might just happen again.

He starts to slowly doze off when your voice wakes him up.

“Do you want to put on a face mask?”

“Uhm, okay,” he stupidly gives in easily.

You grab two packs and a mirror from your pouch then try to put the mask on properly. You turn to Jungkook who now kneels next to you, as if asking him to fix it. He shifts it a little before putting one on himself. He turns to you as well and you flatten the edges, making sure you spread the serum from his jaw down to his neck, completely unaware of how you’re affecting him.

For some reason, you decide to sit in the space between the beds so Jungkook follows suit. There’s not much distance between the both of you but this isn’t the first time. He supposes he’ll just keep doing what he’s been trying to do - try to act normal while also figuring out exactly what he feels without making it obvious that something has changed. 

“Today was good,” you hum. “I liked playing in the snow and walking around. And now it’s 12 AM but we’re not passed out. What a change from years ago.”

“Such a change,” he laughs, reminiscing about your post-university trips where you were finally earning money and spending it on shopping and partying. “Hong Kong was the worst.”

You and Jimin were drunk and entered the wrong hotel, and Jungkook was the one who looked for you and dragged your asses out of there before you fought the hotel staff for not letting you into your room.

You remember that night and smile behind your mask. “Oops.”

“So yeah, this trip is good,” he chuckles. “We just get to relax and do whatever we want and actually remember everything and you know, not end up fighting strangers and stuff.”

You laugh in response.

“I liked the park, too. And my free beer. Thanks again, ___.”

You’re reminded of your comment from earlier about him not getting hurt. It’s not that deep but given the conversations you’ve been having with him and the things you know that the others don’t, it may not have been the best thing to say.

“What I said when we were at the museum…” you start. “I know it might have a double meaning but you know what I meant.”

It takes a while for him to figure out what you’re referring to but when he does, he just shakes his head. 

“I know what you meant and it’s totally fine. I didn’t take it the wrong way.”

“But still, I’m sorry,” you mutter. 

“It’s okay. Why are you always apologizing though?”

“Because I… don’t wanna do or say anything that’ll hurt you,” you admit. “I mean duh, I don’t want to do that to any of my friends but with you, it’s different.”

Jungkook’s thankful that of all the times he agreed to put on a mask, it was tonight, because at least you can’t see the way his face falls at your statement.

Different? What does that mean? Surely it can’t mean the same different he feels towards you because you haven’t acted out of the ordinary with him at all. 

But you’re unpredictable sometimes and he doesn’t really know what to expect.

“What do you mean?” He manages to ask.

“Like… it’s simple and unproblematic. We bicker, we tease, we comfort each other… You’re there when I need you; I’m there when you need me, but we don’t need each other all the time. You get what I mean? We’re close but not–”

“Too close?” He finishes.

“Yeah, and it’s a good thing,” you clarify. “It’s not like with Jimin where we get on each other’s nerves all the time but we worry about the other just as much. But that’s always how we’ve been. And with Tae… I miss him so much when he’s away but I can’t tell him that because I don’t want him to worry. And he worries a lot and that affects him.”

“Tae does worry a lot about you. At one point I thought there was…”

“Something more?” You chuckle, and Jungkook nods in response.

It’s something he asked his friend years ago but Taehyung insisted there wasn’t anything.

“I pushed myself so hard in university. And when I worked there after graduation, I lost myself for a bit and Tae was just always there. I guess I became dependent on him as a friend to an extent,” you explain. “So a bit of that still lingers. I want to tell him things but not every little thing so he doesn’t worry. And Jimin’s like family and families fight sometimes. All of that said, you and I have always been… normal, for lack of a better term.”

Jungkook hums, as he tries to find the right words to say. But he gets it. It’s not like he was ever jealous about your closeness with Taehyung or Jimin; it was just a fact he accepted because it had always been like that. A big part of it was definitely because he had Joo-yun early on, and that kept him from developing a closer bond with you unlike his friends. 

And while he regretted the part where he could’ve gotten closer to you much earlier, he supposes maybe it wasn’t that bad. Like you said, what both of you share is simple and unproblematic. There are no expectations, no fights, no secrets.

Well, maybe now there is, and Jungkook is a little guilty for feeling things while you continue believing that everything between both of you is simple. He reminds himself there are no expectations on his end and that as far as he knows, he’s not fully acting on whatever he feels. He’s just… going with the flow.

He recalls that conversation at your apartment about both of you wishing you’d been better friends to each other back then. For him, it was about knowing your struggles and being there for you. Perhaps it was that distance that led to this kind of friendship you have now. He stops himself short of thinking that while this is normal, so is getting used to each other and developing feelings. You’re not a believer of friends turning into lovers so maybe your definition of normal is also different.

He wills his thoughts to stop forming right now, not when you’re in the middle of something pretty serious. He wants to assure you that he’ll keep that unspoken promise you made about being better friends to each other. On one hand, that could mean not crossing any line and keeping things simple, like you said. On the other hand, it might also mean just being honest and making you feel comfortable in being the same.

“I don’t want to do or say anything that’ll hurt you, too,” he finally says. “Tell me if I do, yeah?”

“I will,” you nod, and he can sense a smile behind the mask. “Can I be honest though? It’s hard to continue being serious when you look like that.”

He nudges your knee. “You’re the one who wanted to put this on!”

“I know, but then I got carried away,” you laugh, pulling the sheet mask off your face now and throwing it in the trash. “We’ve been having more deep conversations lately, Kook. It’s like we turned 28 and then poof, we became mature.”

“It doesn’t work that way but sure, ___,” he chuckles, clearing his face now, too. “I think experience does that. We realize what we want for ourselves and others, what we’re willing to tolerate, and what we want to focus our energy on. And we’re barely 30. We’re not even close to our peak.”

“So I’m gonna be even more mature?” You gasp. “Are you gonna be ready for that?”

“Okay, much as I’d like to tease you, you honestly don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re wise and mature and deep and shit, and not just because you’re an intellectual,” he clarifies. “You’re a smart person who also feels things, and I think maturity stems from that.”

“Hmm, I suppose,” you say, yawning as you crawl into bed. “But you’re a lot more mature than I am.”

“I’ll take that,” Jungkook smiles. 

He lies in bed and turns off the night light. There’s a beat of silence before your sleepy voice echoes in the room.

“Kook?”

“Hmm?” 

“Thank you for always making me feel better about myself. It means a lot.”

Your deep breathing follows and he supposes you’ve already fallen asleep. He wishes he’d said something right away but he couldn’t find the words, like always. 

He holds onto the fact that that was your last thought before you knocked out and he was at least awake to hear it. He’s sure you know he heard you and that should be enough.

You wake up much better the next day, given that the room temperature was what you wanted. You were curled under the covers with your feet warm from your socks, and there’s just something refreshing about feeling cold in the morning. 

It’s a much earlier call time today, as you’ll be taking a train to a nearby town. You all get ready, and you’re doing your makeup in the living room while you glance at Jungkook doing his morning skincare routine. 

You remember a time when Hayoung used to scold him for not wearing sunscreen despite spending all day outdoors. Eventually he developed that habit, including putting on toner and moisturizer. He has a headband on and it causes you to giggle. 

Even without trying, Jungkook looks adorable sometimes. His oversized tan hoodie swallows his body. The way his hair falls over his forehead and his large, bright eyes make him look like a boba ball. There’s something so endearing about him as he alternates between two pairs of sunglasses because he can’t figure out which to wear. 

“Second one,” you call out. “It settles cutely on your nose.”

“I can’t tell if that’s an insult or…”

“I’m disappointed you’d even think I would ever insult your nose!” You gasp.

Walking towards him, you adjust the black jacket over his hoodie and fix his bangs.

“You’re so dramatic,” he chuckles, feeling his throat immediately dry up with you being so near him.

It’s another one of those normal things you do often that suddenly means more to him now. You’ve also always looked nice barefaced but when you’re made up and this close to him? He wonders if you’ve always been this pretty. 

“I mean it. This nose has super powers,” you say, pinching them out of reflex.

“And what does it do?”

“It keeps me from getting angry when I’m hungry. Too cute.”

“You’re so annoying,” he groans, as you laugh and yell out for your other friends to finish up.

They eventually do and you decide to separate from the older ones at least for today’s coffee run. You find a nice cafe and order some drinks and fluffy pancakes that’s perfect for this weather, and then you meet the rest in the train station for this morning’s little excursion.

The coastal train ride to Otaru, especially during winter, is apparently a must-do. And you agree, as you lean your head on Taehyung’s shoulder while the ocean comes into view. It’s so scenic, as the waves crash on the shore, just like that famous painting, and there’s that enchanting feeling once more in seeing the snow-covered town.

The 45-minute trip is spent looking at the views while talking to Mo-eum who sits in front of you, and occasionally taking photos of Jungkook and Jimin right behind you. You savor the simplicity of the experience and the fact that over a decade in, you still get to enjoy this with your friends. To remain this close and to have them so constant is a blessing, and something you don’t ever want to take for granted. 

You arrive in the port city and immediately fall in love with it. From the architecture to the historical mansions and quaint streets, it gives such a unique and warm vibe despite the icy winds and snowfall. 

You all decide to get hot drinks while you make your way to the frozen canal. There’s so much to see and just like yesterday, you take your time in taking in your surroundings, with the occasional snowball fight care of Jungkook at the expense of poor Jimin. It’s one of the few entertainment sources of the morning. There’s also making a Yoongi snowman and trying your butts at snow sledding using your puffer coats. The film cameras that Jungkook and Hoseok bring capture it all.

The group separates into two when you find a Music Box Museum that you want to explore while Jungkook and Yoongi choose a brewery to taste their season-exclusive drinks. Jimin and Gyu-rim join them so the rest of you head to the stunning building and look through thousands of music boxes and Christmas decorations. You reconvene after two hours and aren’t surprised when the other group brings back a few bottles of liquor that they said they wanted to try tonight.

You choose one of the dozen seafood restaurants on a popular street for lunch and you really can’t go wrong. This, for certain, is the freshest seafood you’ve ever had, and you spend the majority of your time eating just humming in satisfaction at everything you put in your mouth. And laughing, because while you admit to being dramatic sometimes, your friends overtake you in the eating department.

Because there’s Hoseok clapping after every new dish, there’s Jimin bowing his head down while moaning after every bite, there’s Gyu-rim cursing every five minutes, and then there’s Jungkook jumping in his seat and making the most bizarre hand gestures to express how delicious the food is. 

It was definitely an experience, and you’re glad that Taehyung insisted on doing this. 

You all walk back to the station to look at the other structures and to digest everything you ate. In less than an hour, you’re back in Sapporo and in your hotel room, needing the short break before the long drive to your next destination.

It’s hilarious Japanese reality TV shows and more convenience store snacks for an hour and a half in the living room before you leave late in the afternoon to head to another town. 

You decide to sit in the backseat with Taehyung and Mo-eum this time. If it were with any of the other two guys, there’ll definitely be a lot of smacking and pinching and you can’t afford to be violent during the drive. It’s peaceful enough, as you spend it just talking about random things and before you know it, you arrive at a restaurant for your yakiniku fix for dinner. 

The sun has set and you spend most of the ride with the windows down. The cold doesn’t seem to bother anyone and it’s just quiet - perhaps sentimental, too - until you reach your rented home for the next three days.

The place is stunning and you all thank Taehyung and Seokjin’s parents for covering your lodging because they said it’s been a while since you’ve been complete and you deserve the luxury this place brings. It’s something they often did and you suppose it’s just a rich family thing to do and you’re not one to complain. 

All four bedrooms are on the first floor and like always, the five of you younger ones take the biggest of them, which already has the mattress on the floor anyways that Taehyung calls dibs on. You climb up the stairs to the living and dining rooms and find a huge open space that’s perfect for all of you. It opens to an outdoor area that houses the hot tub and sauna.

You’re glad it’s a detached house. That way, you can laugh and stay up late as much as you want and it won’t bother anyone. You can’t wait to spend your nights here.

It’s just past 8 in the evening and Jimin suggests going for the hot tub and taking turns because not everyone’s gonna fit.

“Well, not everyone’s gonna dip,” Yoongi shrugs, as if you all don’t know he’s one of those people.

But he’s right. Seokjin, Hayoung, and Hoseok join him in being spectators as they sit on the table outside while the rest of you take a spot around the tub and take turns on entering it. 

You feel comfortable in your olive green bathing suit. Despite being out in the open, the heat from the water is enough to balance things out. There’s a spread of alcohol and other snacks that you pick from and like you expected, it’s a lot of laughter and reminiscing and discussing plans of future trips. 

You look at each of your friends, the people who have been with you for over a decade, and you think about all the years in between. You’ve all definitely matured. It’s not just in the wrinkles or the responsible alcohol consumption or the complaints about sore legs after today’s walking spree. 

It’s in the comfort of each other, the fulfilled promises of making time to be together despite the busy schedules and the distance. It’s in indulging what one person wants because doing anything as a group is the priority. It’s in the relief in your eyes knowing that at a time when people tend to lose sight of the important things, you’ve all made it a point not to lose each other. 

That brings you to another thought, something you voice out.

“We are such a good looking group of friends,” you state, almost out of nowhere. 

But really, from the camping trip that had you all looking a bit raggedy to this trip where you’ve been bunched up in thick clothes or with barely anything on, like right now, it’s something that just entered your mind.

“I’m surprised no one else decided to date each other apart from Seokjin and Hayoung,” you continue.

It’s not an uncommon topic amongst you. In fact, it’s one of those things you like teasing each other about, given all the history.

“Yoongi and Gyu-rim will. In 10 years,” Jimin states, and the people in question just shake their heads in response because this isn’t the first time and they’re unfortunately used to this. 

“Mo-eum and I have a pact that if we’re still single at 55, we’ll marry each other,” you announce.

“___, I was drunk when I agreed,” your best friend laughs.

“No taking it back. We pinky promised,” you glare at her.

“Yah! Both of you will surely find someone before then,” Taehyung exclaims.

“Well, it could’ve been you,” Mo-eum tells him.

A round of “oohs” echoes in the room, prompting her to smile sweetly and Taehyung to chuckle and say that’s probably true. 

It’s that kind of history you all like unearthing and resurfacing every once in a while. Come to think of it, it was over five years ago during your trip to Tokyo when your best friend revealed that she actually liked Taehyung during your junior year of college but she never had the guts to say anything, only for him to start liking her right after she got over it. 

The confession shook everyone because no one knew, even you. And knowing how your best friend is, it would’ve been something she was really shy or nervous about if she never told anyone. 

“Hoseok, care to top that?” Jimin teases now as he smirks at Suhyeon, who understandably splashes him with water. 

“No, I don’t,” Hoseok laughs. “Brat.”

“Well, that ship could’ve sailed if someone wasn’t such a coward about it,” Seokjin eyes him. 

Hoseok’s “what-if” with Suhyeon happened in real time, where everyone knew they had feelings for each other except for both of them. Despite all of you urging them to just make a move, one made a small step but the other was too scared to risk things and it didn’t fall through. 

Both of them now have partners outside of your friend group though, and they’re even better friends this time, something that Suhyeon points out.

“When you think about it, it’s really just about timing,” Namjoon reflects. “Whether it’s liking someone at a certain point or believing you’re ready enough to go for it, it’s about the other person being on the same boat - liking you at the same time and being ready when you are.”

“True. I mean, Hayoung and I luckily liked each other at the same time,” Seokjin nods.

“Liar. You had a crush on her the year before she admitted her feelings,” his younger brother calls him out.

“It was harmless!” Seokjin argues. “We went to a farm where the chickens chased her and she started running and yelling like crazy and I thought she looked adorable. It didn’t mean much until she couldn’t hold herself back from saying that she thought I was handsome.”

“It was still a crush,” Taehyung points out. 

“And it materialized a year later! That happens, too. Admiration or affection for someone doesn’t always mean it has to be something more right away,” the older man counters. “Sure, we could’ve dated much earlier if I’d said something but it also could’ve gone nowhere if I went for it right then. Or she could’ve rejected me. I didn’t wanna pressure her or make it feel like she had to return the feeling, which really was just a crush.”

“True,” Hayoung hums. “I probably would’ve thought he was unserious about it or I would’ve kept my distance because I didn’t feel anything then. Like Joon said, it’s about timing. Seokjin held out and thankfully, I got to him in time.”

“She ended up falling more in love with me so… it all worked out well,” Seokjin winks.

Everyone just laughs because you all know the truth - Seokjin is crazy about Hayoung. It’s a given that he’ll be the one bawling his eyes out during their wedding.

Jungkook laughs along as the teasing continues, thankful this time that given his history, people are a bit cautious of asking him about his thoughts when it comes to relationships. 

But his friends’ words linger in his mind, even as the conversation shifts to something new. 

Seokjin and Hayoung’s love story always seemed so simple to him - two friends who always got along well and one day realized they felt something more. Looking at how they are, it’s as if there’s really no one else made for them but each other. 

But of course, it’s never as simple as just confessing their feelings and being lucky that the other person felt the same way. It’s also about knowing what’s worth risking and when to do so. It’s about being ready to deal with the consequences, whether you’re taking a step back, forward, or staying right where you are. 

Like what Seokjin said, it isn’t always about being something more right away. Jungkook thinks that maybe feelings aren't something you just have; it’s something you settle into. 

The hours pass and Jungkook doesn’t notice them flying by. Between the conversations, the premier Japanese liquor and convenience store snacks, and lying on the snow by the edge of the deck then retreating to the hot tub, there’s a lot going on.

But he’s far from tired, and even if the temperature has dropped even lower, he still wants to stay out here and let his body relax.

The others have gone ahead to wash up and get ready for bed but there’s still you, Jimin, and Gyu-rim with him outside, talking about the latter’s non-existent but probable relationship with Yoongi. 

“You’re the most comfortable when you’re together and it’s the same with him,” Jimin points out. “That doesn’t happen overnight and it certainly doesn’t happen with just anyone. I’m just saying that it’s something to think about. Finding someone new isn’t the only option, you know?”

Gyu-rim, who surprisingly hasn’t smacked Jimin yet for all the years he’s been insisting on this, just chuckles in response. 

“I admire your commitment to this ship,” she concedes, knowing it’s better to just go along with the teasing than to react negatively. 

It’s Yoongi anyway and there’s nothing to feel negative about.

“Let’s just say that I have deep love for my friends and I want them to be with people who know how to love them, or would learn how to,” Jimin responds. “I’ll shut up about it after this but I just wanted to give you that nudge. I’ve learned my lesson with the two what-ifs in our group because we just all stood by.”

She argues that sometimes, standing by is the better option but that she’s also at that age where she just wants a companion. Jimin says that he knows that Yoongi does, too. 

Both of them eventually decide to retire for the night and you say you want to stay a little longer since you barely stayed in the tub. It’s just you and Jungkook now and with two people left, you take the chance to stretch your legs and submerge yourself in the hot water that you’ve slowly gotten used to. It even starts snowing and somehow that adds to your relaxation.

“So,” you turn to the man next to you who seems to be in awe of the snowfall as well. “You were quiet during all the relationship talk. You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook replies, his head leaned back but facing towards you. “I guess I’m like you when I’m with more mature people. I just listen.”

“And reflect?”

“A bit of that,” he hums, shifting his gaze towards the trees now.

With you in that bathing suit next to him, it’s just another version of you that he suddenly finds pretty.

“About what?” You ask. 

“Settling into feelings, I guess. How we don’t always need to act on them right away because they could be mild or fleeting or confusing or just… something that develops over time and that needs time for it to be right or enough. Or certain.”

You let his words linger. It’s something you definitely can’t relate with.

“Wow. I wish I knew that before my past relationships that failed because of my feelings that I immediately acted on,” you laugh, almost mockingly, at yourself.

“Acting on them isn’t always wrong, though. You shoot your shot when you can and you don’t always have time,” Jungkook tries to comfort you. “You could lose your chance completely.”

“That’s true but then like I said before, I get excited and impatient. Looking back, I guess I never really settled into my feelings for the people I liked because, well, it wasn’t something I thought about.”

“Me, too. It’s just something that got to me while listening to them earlier. Nothing too deep. I guess time and experience make you see and realize things that were always there but never really thought much about,” Jungkook states. “Suddenly they mean a lot more now.”

It’s the closest to being honest he could be with you about the thoughts he’s been having. Somehow this makes him feel better. He’s not lying to you or anything. He’s just settling into these newfound feelings for you. 

Maybe they are fleeting or mild or confusing. Maybe it just needs time to develop into something that could be right and good enough for you, if it ever gets to that point. 

Being with you right now, he’s trying to figure out what it is. It’s still a mix of everything but he’ll be patient this time. One thing is for sure though - he doesn’t want to scare you. If anything, he just wants to keep you close enough for a little while longer. 

As you both lie in your beds later in the night - you next to Mo-eum and him next to Jimin - there’s space in between that perhaps resembles where you both are right now. You’re both lying on your sides and you stick your tongue out at him as good night right before you turn the light off. 

He smiles to himself. It’s a good view from where he is.  

It’s a little chaotic in the morning as all 12 of you take turns in the three bathrooms to get ready. People are washing their faces and brushing their teeth next to and behind each other. The men are dressing up in the hallways and in the living room while the women are behind closed doors. 

And then there’s Hayoung and Suhyeon making sure there are enough water bottles for everyone and Hoseok who’s reminding you all about the proper outerwear and boots for today’s activity. 

Right as you’re dressed, you feel the energy surge through you. You haven’t gone skiing in years and you’re looking forward to trying it again this time. Everyone else seems to feel the same way, especially Jungkook who keeps mumbling that he’s excited and pretty much skipping all around the house.

You put your heavy coats in the trunk and head out for a fairly long drive. You call shotgun because you like getting a wider view of the snowy streets and everyone agrees because it’s you. Jungkook drives like always, insisting that he genuinely enjoys it.

You arrive at a rest stop shortly after, as you all decided to just get snacks from there for breakfast. You divide and conquer - Jungkook orders the food and you join him because you’re curious, while the rest get the drinks. 

Ordering at the ticket machine, you and Jungkook get excited about which snacks to get, even if you were confused about which buttons to press and when to pay. But you manage and buy a few flavors of the fried rice balls and croquettes then head back to the car. You start eating before Mo-eum and Taehyung return with the rest of the drinks and by the time Jungkook restarts the engine, he’s already devoured two of them.

He keeps both hands on the wheel and his eyes focused on the road while the rest of you munch on the food, humming in satisfaction and singing your praises. 

You see his gaze constantly flit to the rice cake you’re eating. You think he’s probably itching to have one right now but he doesn’t want to risk putting you all in danger so you take out a piece for him to eat. Knowing he’s wary of the drive, you feed him and cup your hand under his mouth in case a piece falls. 

“Hmm, that’s so good,” he moans, angling his head to the side for another bite.

You chuckle as he tries to get as much of it in his mouth so you appease him and say you’ll feed him so he can still eat them while they’re hot. He beams at you so endearingly and with his blue beanie and loose jacket on, he looks like a kid with his bunny smile and innocent doe-eyes. 

It’s a complete shift from last night where he was half naked in the tub, toned abs and tattooed arm on full display. Like boys do, he, Jimin, Taehyung, and even Namjoon were all showing off their biceps and posing ridiculously like bodybuilders, triggering a pose-off and tummy ache-inducing laughter from the rest of you. 

You can’t say it’s something that surprised you. Jungkook’s always been an athlete. You watched some of his swimming competitions when you were in college. You’ve also had dozens of beach trips. Toned bodies like what your friends have are normal to you and you’re often unbothered. They’re used to walking around without a shirt on and they have never felt shy around you; none of you girls ever felt bothered by it, either. 

But you’re still a woman with fully functioning eyes and can appreciate a pretty physique when you see one. Jungkook just happens to possess it and being in close proximity to him reminded you of that. It’s just a funny thing to remember seeing how he is now. There’s just something so charming about him that makes you smile.

You continue feeding yourself and him throughout the drive, with him losing it with the cheese croquette, his favorite one out of everything. You bring up his iced americano to his lips, too. It’s your way of thanking him, you tell yourself, as he’s been taking on the long drives like always. 

You finally make it to the ski resort and Jungkook skips all the way to the lobby. You all rent your accessories and equipment then head to the gondola all the way to the top. Despite the powdery snow, there’s still so much of it that it’s a struggle to even walk.

The view is stunning and the weather is cold and bright yet you already know you’re gonna suffer. But it’s the good kind. You’ll just brace through all the falls and face plants you’ll make but you’ll at least have fun.

It’s a group decision to snowboard first. As expected, there’s the group that can do it, and another that can definitely do better. The Kim brothers grew up doing this so their skills are not a surprise. Hayoung has done it a few times since dating Seokjin so she’s not bad at all. Namjoon is surprisingly good with his balance, Mo-eum is just good at anything sporty, and Jungkook obviously quickly relearned the ropes even though it's been years since the last time he’d done it.    

And then there’s Yoongi who settles with little hops down the mountain and Gyu-rim just laughing along as they semi slide all the way. There’s Suhyeon content with cheering you on despite constantly landing on her butt, Jimin who falls after every turn, and then you who falls right behind him. 

You’re just as tired at laughing at your mishaps than you are with all the face planting and swimming through snow you’ve both been doing. But you always end up turning on your back and marveling at your surroundings and the feel of the snow under you. At one point, you and Jimin almost give up.

You do manage two rounds down the slope while the others end up with a few more. You all rest at the cafe for a bit at Yoongi’s request and watch the few clips some of you managed to get of each other going down the mountain. 

Skiing is a lot more doable. It’s something you’ve done more than once so it’s not hard to relearn it. But with now-sore legs and overworked muscles from all the laughing and tensing up, it’s still definitely a lot more than you can handle. But you push through because it’s seriously a lot of fun. 

The snow is falling hard by the time you finish. Your hands feel frozen and your nose feels numb. Your legs and knees are definitely sore, and you feel the pain once you start going down the stairs. 

Hayoung, who overdid herself a little, climbs on Seokjin’s back. You whine because you’re in pain, too, but you don’t want to trouble any of your friends who might be just as tired.

Taehyung stands next to you and chuckles at your pouty face and your eyes that are focused on your cousin and his brother.

“Do you want a piggyback ride, too?” he asks.

You nod and give him your puppy eyes, waiting for him to offer you one.

“Okay. Kook!” he yells out behind him. “Our princess needs a ride.”

Jungkook looks at him questioningly then you. “What?”

Taehyung eyes the couple not far ahead and Jungkook takes the hint.

“Ah,” he says, looking at your tired form. “Your legs hurt?”

“I can’t feel them anymore,” you wail.

You’re so dramatic that it makes Jungkook chuckle, prompting you to weakly smack his arm. But he gives in this time, seeing how helpless you look.

“Fine. Jump,” he tells you, bending low to help you get on his back then gripping your thighs to keep you steady.

It’s not a long walk back to the car but it isn’t an easy one, so you constantly apologize in between your grumbles of being in pain. 

“I’ll pay for your drink at the whiskey museum tomorrow,” you promise him. 

“Tempting but you don’t have to,” he says. “It’s fine. Being your carriage is totally a normal thing.”

“Hey,” you cry out. “Please? I’ll treat you something.”

“Or you can just say thank you. Really, ___. You don’t have to pay me back for every good thing I do for you.” He slowly puts you down and turns to face you. “Just… stretch and relax. The hot tub will help so get on it later. And maybe don’t snore too loud tonight.”

You laugh at the last part because of course he’ll sneak that in even if it’s unrelated, but you agree.

Sitting at the back this time, you lean your head on Taehyung’s shoulder as you slowly doze off. He opens the window to let the cold air in to wake you up a little but you still fall asleep shortly after.

Jungkook glances at you from the rearview mirror. His heart did a thing again earlier when you had your arms around his neck, and then again when you sweetly smiled at him and said thank you before you entered the car. 

It’s a little different this time though as it feels more like floating. Looking at you peacefully napping, it continues to do just that.

The famous soup curry is famous for a reason. It’s rich despite the thin broth and the meat is soft and tender. It’s exactly what you need after this morning’s adventure and paired with the draft beer, it’s every bit satisfying. 

You gain a bit more energy after lunch, which you quickly expend during the car ride. Taehyung is the designated driver this time. Jungkook couldn’t resist the beer earlier, so you sit between him and Jimin and they alternate between teasing you mercilessly and cooing at you. 

You play the injured card, quickly clarifying that it’s your ego that's bruised after face planting so many times. Mo-eum from the front says everyone was laughing at Jimin and Yoongi more than they were laughing at you. They expected you’d fall but that the other two looked like adorable baby pandas who couldn’t get their shit together in the snow.

It’s mid-afternoon by the time you get home, which is where you’ll be staying for the rest of the day. Everyone picks their spot in the common room and you take your place on the large couch next to Hayoung. The Switch is turned on and a battle begins but you can barely keep up as not long after, you doze off.

Jungkook manages to win one game of Mario Kart before he heads out with Yoongi to buy what they’ll need for tonight’s dinner. It’s an hour later when they return and when they do, you’re still lying down on the same spot, softly snoring and getting some needed rest. He brings out the muscle spray he bought at the pharmacy and Jimin is the first one to take it. It’s passed around and when it’s returned to him, he briefly looks at you to check if you’re already awake.

You aren’t, even with the shrieking going on because of everyone’s epic fails on Fall Guys.  You have your hands together tucked under your cheek and your head laying on a pillow on Hayoung’s lap. There’s this urge to tease you about still being so tired but also to move your hair out of your face and caress your cheek.

He’s a little alarmed when you start opening your eyes, paranoid that he might’ve said something while fondly looking at you or if telepathy is actually real and you’d read what was going through his mind. But you mumble something instead and shift your body for a more comfortable position. He kneels down next to you and asks what you were saying.

“Did you beat Hoseok?” You mutter.

“Yeah, earlier,” he replies. “But I haven’t played since. Yoongi and I bought stuff at the supermarket. I got muscle spray for soreness, too.”

That piques your interest, as you open your eyes wider and ask where it is. 

“Jimin’s hogging it. Let me get it from him.”

He gets back to you with the bottle and you lift your pajama pants to expose your legs. Your puppy eyes tell him that you want him to do it for you. He chuckles but gets to it right away, gripping your foot and spraying the liquid on your limbs. You linger, and Jungkook instinctively sits down and lays your legs on his lap, gently massaging them. 

You moan in satisfaction and urge him to continue, earning you another chuckle. He works on your joints and your calves, knowing they just need to relax and that you’ll feel better soon enough. You’re lying on your back this time, but then Hayoung says she’ll go to the bathroom so you sit up and watch Jungkook work on your legs. 

“You would’ve been a good therapist if you chose that path instead of teaching,” you tell him.

“My dad said the same thing. I used to massage him after a long day of laboring when I was younger,” he laughs. “Glad I haven’t lost my touch.”

“You’re good. I approve.”

Your face contorts in pain when he kneads the tender parts and you try to move his hand towards a different area.

“But that’s where it hurts,” he insists. “I’ll go gentle, I promise.”

You let him, but your hand remains gingerly on top of his just in case. He keeps his word and goes easy on you. 

“Get in the hot tub later, yeah? That’ll help,” he advises.

You nod and instead of lying back down, you lean on his shoulder while he continues massaging you. You think you can fall back asleep with how this feels.

But then Gyu-rim suggests watching a horror movie because the last time you did that in the forest was so memorable that she wants to laugh at the scaredy-cats again. 

So Taehyung puts some Japanese thriller he finds on the shelf and dims the lights, resulting in 90 minutes of shrieks, curses, the occasional “I give up” from Hoseok, and the timely laughter from the horror enthusiasts. It’s quite the experience but it’s the perfect build up to dinner.

Yoongi lays out a spread of sushi and various salads for your appetizer while baking slabs of premium beef in the oven. Jungkook makes a Japanese pork offal and vegetable soup dish that sounds so perfect for tonight. Everyone else is busy drinking and eating while he’s glued next to the pot so you go to him.

He turns to you and eyes the plate of sushi you’re holding.

“Is it good?” He asks.

“So good. So fresh,” you hum. “Here, have some before they finish it all.”

You feed him some, an act that’s somehow become reflexive for you these past days, and he nods in approval. You get a few more pieces and alternate between feeding yourself and him.

The aroma of the broth wafts through your senses and you can’t wait to dip your rice in a bowl of all that goodness.

“Is it done yet?” you peek inside the pot.

“You wouldn’t know even if you tried,” he teases,

“Oh shush,” you nudge him. 

He laughs but he takes out a spoon, fills it with broth, then blows on it before feeding you. 

“Yup, my chef palette says that’s good.”

To his surprise, it is, and you make a claim that you’ve gotten better at this. 

It’s at the same time when Yoongi says that the meat is ready so you all gather at the dining table and have dinner. You finish with matcha tiramisu and cheesecake for dessert.

You start cleaning up with Namjoon and Taehyung while the rest of your friends either move back to the living room or head to the hot tub. You can hear them laughing and playing around outside, no doubt lying on the snow again or doing something silly, but you focus on your task then get dressed before heading out the deck.

You sit with Jimin and Suhyeon while the others take a rest. Just like last night, you alternate again so everyone gets a chance to take a dip. You end up staying a little longer, hoping the hot water will relax your muscles and get you feeling better for your last full day tomorrow. 

One-by-one, your friends leave the tub to wash up, as the temperature continues to drop. You’re left with Jungkook once again and he sits next to you, both of your heads rolled back, and the sounds of the wind and bubbling water filling the space.

“Feel better?” He asks.

“Yup. I wanna stay here longer but I don’t wanna stay up too late and I still wanna drink,” you say, somehow feeling like the day is too short for you to do everything you want, even if you’ve done so much already.

“We can stay for a couple more minutes. Being here for too long isn’t good, anyway.”

“Fine,” you agree. “But today was a good one. Thanks for my massage.”

“What have I not done for you at this point?” He laughs. 

“I’m a spoiled brat, aren’t I?” You call yourself out. 

“A little bit,” he playfully shakes his head. 

“Well, thanks for putting up with me,” you mumble, and he assures you that it’s not as bad as you make it sound.

Namjoon, Yoongi, and Gyu-rim go out to drink at the picnic table on the other end of the deck and they raise their glasses to you in acknowledgement, warning you of Jimin possibly finishing off the sake if you don’t stop him.

You say you’ll wash up soon but remain on your spot, occasionally stretching your legs, until you return your focus to Jungkook and shift to face him. 

With his whole lower body submerged in the water and only his neck and his damp hair on the surface, he doesn’t look as intimidating so you start playing around with his hair and attempt to tie a ponytail at the top, resembling a sprout. He grumbles under his breath but he doesn’t say a word. He just closes his eyes and lets you do what you want.

For Jungkook, an attempt to stop you would be futile. That would entail fighting you off and getting a little too close in such a small space, which again would be deemed normal if it wasn’t for his growing fondness for you. He tries to just watch what you’re doing but given your proximity, he thinks that closing his eyes would be better for his stupid heart.

“Ooh, you’re letting me tie your hair,” you point out. “That’s new.”

“I’d have to pry you away for you to stop and I don’t want you falling out of this tub or something,” he reasons.

“Hmm, you have a point.”

You giggle when you finish, and it’s at the same time that Taehyung appears behind the glass door and waves. He spots Jungkook’s sprout and starts laughing, too. Opening the door, he coos at his friend and pulls up his phone to take a photo.

You immediately scoot closer to Jungkook and pose multiple times before your friend gives a thumbs up sign and walks back inside the house. You can see the rest of them still in the dining room, looking like they’re playing card games and downing the remaining bottles of alcohol you’ve all been buying since you arrived.

Jungkook stands up from the tub and turns to the door to see what he looks like through his reflection. He frowns at you in response.

“Okay, sprout off,” you say once he sits on the ledge. “It doesn’t fit the muscle bunny Jungkook vibe.”

“What?”

“Your hair has to match your body. It looked fine when you were submerged in the water,” you reason, pulling the hair tie off him. “Now with these muscles and these abs and this tattoo sleeve, it’s a mismatch.”

“How is it that you analyze even these things?” He questions.

“It’s my brain. It just does.”

He descends back down once the cold air becomes too much and you’re just there, so close yet so far like many times before. There’s that urge to get even closer and just examine your face, now that he’s looking at you in a new light. 

Settling in the feeling, he reasons to himself. Figuring out if it’s fleeting or something more. 

He repeats the words in his head as he watches you flounder in the tub. You move to the end near the railing and the snow lightly falls on your head. It almost feels romantic, as you sit there with a soft look on your face and a sweet smile as you let the snow touch your skin. 

But with you, unpredictability is a thing. Before he knows it, you’re scooting back close to him. You lift his right arm from under the water and start pointing out the tattoos that you think are new.

“I just had them colored. Some were redone,” he explains.

“Ahh,” you reply, wiping off the droplets on some areas so you can see them better, unknowing of the shivers you’re causing. “So do you just wear a jacket every time you’re at the school?”

“Pretty much,” he hums. “When it’s hot, I wear a shirt and then an arm sleeve to cover it up. Thankfully they weren’t too strict about it, although I was almost not accepted because of it. I just made up some story that I was trying to be cool in college so I got them but I straightened myself out and wanted a fresh start so I became a teacher.”

“Wow what a liar,” you respond. “You were getting new ones even after you got the job.”

“I know. But they don’t know that,” he laughs.

“I think it looks cool on you.”

“You called it a muscle bunny vibe,” he deadpans.

“It’s because you have an adorable bunny face but your body’s ripped. Bunnies are fluffy, chunky babies. They have puffy cheeks. They don’t have abs.”

“They could. If they exercised.”

His comment sounds ridiculous and it makes you laugh, as an image of a bunny doing crunches flashes in your mind. You think he imagines that, too, as he laughs right after. It’s a silly thing but it’s one of many things that you talk to Jungkook about. One evening you’re reflecting about feelings and relationships and the next, you’re picturing bunnies exercising. 

“Yah, you two,” Yoongi’s voice cuts through your muffled laughter. “It’s getting too cold. You might get sick. Wash up soon.”

“We will already, uncle,” you grin at him. 

You stand up and slowly make your way to the steps but Namjoon tells you to stop so Jungkook can help you down and avoid a probable accident. So he does, walking ahead of you then down the stairs before you take his hand and follow him. 

Your room is still empty when you get your clothes. When you return after your bath, Mo-eum and Taehyung are on your bed, watching something on the laptop. Clearly yesterday’s conversation about their history didn’t change anything between them, as they’re as comfortable next to each other as they’ve always been. 

There are still a few people at the dining table when you go there for a few drinks. You get the sake before Jimin finishes the bottle and you drink it and then some. 

One-by-one, they start to retire for the night. You have a glass of beer that you want to keep drinking whereas Jungkook lost to rock-paper-scissors so he’s finishing the cup of mixed alcohol as penalty, so you both stay behind.

You tell him that he can throw it down the drain and you can keep it a secret but he honors the rock-paper-scissors code, he insists, so he’ll finish it off.

Keeping each other company has become a pattern for both of you recently, but you suppose it’s just the timing of everything. He moved into an apartment his cousin owns that’s closer to his school last year; it also happens to be 15 minutes away from you. 

Both of you aren’t in relationships so it’s easier to hang out. Plus, you committed yourself to maintaining a work-life balance after you suffered burnout some months ago, and that’s meant switching off during the weekends and being a lot… calmer, you think. Probably less erratic and maybe more bearable.

All of those circumstances just happened to take place around the time Taehyung came home and commenced his role of being the trip planner. Before then, you and Jungkook were either in a relationship or neck-deep into your job or both. 

You were definitely a different person back then and you suppose he was, too. Now, you get to spend time together and just enjoy each other’s presence, something you always have but something you get to experience differently this time. 

And it’s a good feeling, something that you don’t express out loud. Not that you think he’ll judge you or anything but only because somehow, you think he’s thinking the same thing. 

You do your final cheers then clean up before brushing your teeth and heading to your room, ready to finally rest.

Except when you get there, you find Jimin sprawled on the mattress on the floor this time with the phone on his face, no doubt having fallen asleep while playing his games. Mo-eum and Taehyung are fetus-curled on either side of your bed, softly snoring. 

That leaves one bed for you and Jungkook, and the realization that this has never happened before hits you. Not that it’s uncomfortable; it’s just that you’ve always been closer to the other guys and he’s always been closer to Mo-eum. Still, you don’t mind but he seems like he does.

“I can sleep on the couch,” he mumbles.

“It’s soft but not as soft as this bed. We can just stay here. You need proper sleep and this is big enough for both of us,” you insist. “Is that okay with you? I mean, I’ve slept next to the guys before.”

“Yeah, and you’ve either elbowed or kicked each one of them. More than once,” he reminds you.

“Is that why you don’t want to sleep here?” You ask worriedly.

He hates it but Jungkook half-lies.

“Yup.”

You think about it for a second but still insist. He’s already slept on the couch in the other hotel and you don’t want him to do that again.

“Nah, you’re strong. You can handle me,” you wink.

“Fine,” he grumbles, mockingly laughing at himself for giving in so easily once again.

“Don’t worry, there’ll be a pillow between us,” you assure him.

“Yeah, whatever. By the way, they left the blinds open. You don’t like the light, right?”

“Hmm, I usually don’t and I know you don’t, too, but uh… Can we leave it up? I wanna fall asleep and wake up to that sight,” you say, gesturing towards the snow-covered branches of the trees right outside the window.

“Sure.”

Jungkook climbs in bed next to you with the pillow in the middle, even if he knows you’ll hog that, too, because apparently, you like hugging something when you sleep. 

You’re on your side with your eyes glued to the window and he lays on his side as well, facing you.

“I’ve been so enchanted by this city and how the snow covers everything,” you whisper, no doubt being sentimental at this time. “I just want to ingrain the image of this place in my mind as much as I can. Jimin got me so fascinated with snow. I used to not care much about it.”

“I’ll get you a snowglobe in one of the shops tomorrow then,” he smiles. “That might help.”

“It will,” you groggily smile back. “You’re so sweet, Kook. I’m glad we–”

And just like that, you’ve fallen asleep.

It’s fitting how the night ends, he thinks. There’s a short distance separating both of you but so many years and memories in between. You’ve always been there just as the snow has always been around, yet it takes something, or someone - perhaps a moment - to make him look at things in a different light.

Has it always been like this? Have you always been like that? What was it these past months that made the difference? 

He’s unsure but he doesn’t want to overthink. Just like you, he wants to ingrain this in his mind as much as he can. He’ll deal with whatever comes after when it comes.

The first sliver of light cuts through your eyelids and you curl yourself closer to the pillow to hide your face. It works only a little, and you mentally curse yourself for leaving the blinds up. No one else seems bothered because no one’s put them down yet. It would’ve been Jungkook but you suppose he’s too exhausted.

You turn to your side and find his tattooed arm over his eyes and you kind of feel bad. So you get up and walk towards the window, marvel at the trees for a few seconds, then pull down the blinds. You return to bed and go back to sleep, knowing you’ll see it again later on. And tomorrow, too, for the last time.

You wake up two hours later to Jungkook saying that the guys have made breakfast. You stretch your legs and ask him if he can put on the muscle spray again even if you’re feeling a little better. He does, and you smile when he briefly massages your calves before he pulls you up from the bed.

Everyone else has gone up so you head to the dining table and find a spread of scrambled eggs, bacon and sausages, toast, and pastries. Hayoung and Gyu-rim apparently watched a cooking show this morning and immediately craved a Western breakfast, so Yoongi and Seokjin went to the supermarket to grab ingredients and cooked them. 

It smells amazing, and you hum in delight at how good it is. It feels so foreign yet it tastes like comfort. 

There’s no rush in spending your last full day. You drive to explore a quaint town then hang out at a cafe to play with cats and drink coffee. You go to a whiskey museum and laugh at Jungkook and Jimin doing some role play by the bar. 

You try some samplers and end up getting Jungkook one of the bottles he chose not to get because he’s used up all his alcohol budget for this trip. You give it as a surprise while walking back to the car.

“___, I told you you didn’t need to get me anymore,” he groans.

“Yeah but.. You carried me, you've been massaging me… And you’re gonna drive me home tomorrow,” you say.

“So what, should I expect you to get me something every time I do something for you?”

“Uh… no.”

“Exactly, so there’s no need to.”

“Too bad, it’s already paid for,” you shrug. “Plus, you looked so sad when you had to give it up. You were pouting your lips and pep talking yourself into accepting that you weren’t gonna get it.”

“I’m also an adult who’ll get over it,” he points out.

“Well, just think of it as a birthday or Christmas gift or something.”

“You’ve never gotten me either of those,” he deadpans.

“Exactly! So here,” you chirp, placing the bottle in his hand. “Belated happy birthday and advanced Merry Christmas.”

He laughs at your persistence but accepts that this is how you are. Again, it’s the tenderness of your personality that he’s been experiencing these past few weeks that builds on the fondness, that makes him enjoy being around you.

“Fine. Thank you,” he finally smiles and accepts. 

Not long after, you go to a street lined with local shops. That’s where Jungkook finds you a snowglobe of this town. He gets you another one of a tree with a deer next to it. He’s also never gotten you a gift so he says it’s for all the years that he missed out on. 

Later in the night, after having dinner at a hotpot place and spending the rest of it reminiscing about the trip over tea and milk, you lay on your side next to Mo-eum, as you’ve returned to your original sleeping arrangements. You place both snowglobes on the night table next to you, as if in replacement of the view from your window. 

“Careful, you might hit and break them,” Jungkook warns from not far away.

“I think my body can only recognize body parts when it’s hitting something,” you laugh. “But don’t worry, they’ll be safe.”

“They better. They’re your reminder of this place.”

“Well, years from now when I still feel my sore joints, I’ll be reminded of Sapporo,” you laugh. 

Jungkook laughs, too, and thinks that while you’ll have those as a reminder, he has this other than the bottle of whiskey you got him - this view of you smiling at him as you fall asleep.

Even if you remain as friends, years from now he’ll think of this trip and how you made it enchanting for him with the moments, the silence, and all your unspoken words.

You leave Sapporo the next afternoon.

It’s quite a drive to the airport and you savor the scenery as you pass the snow-covered mountains and frozen lakes for the last time. 

You sit next to Jungkook again on the flight home, with your head leaned on his shoulder while you both look at the photos in the shared photo album. He drops you off at your apartment after you all have dinner at a restaurant and the entire drive had you laughing and teasing each other, same as how you spent the entire trip.

He helps you unload your luggage and walks it up to the entrance to your apartment building.

The snow starts falling at this time and you ruffle Jungkook’s hair and call him out for not wearing his beanie.

“I’ll live,” he laughs.

You just smile in response, thankful that you spent the past week making new memories with this man you feel you don’t have enough of. It’s weird how a trip can do that - make you experience someone you’ve known for a decade as if for the first time. 

But you suppose life is like that. We focus on certain things at certain points of our lives depending on who and where we are at that time. We rediscover people and feelings and friendships and maybe that’s what living means. Those that remain are the ones that matter.

“Enjoy the holidays, okay? And have a safe trip home tomorrow,” he says.

You’re riding with Hayoung to Gwangju in the morning and Jungkook’s driving to Busan with Jimin in the afternoon. 

“And don’t hurt yourself. Your legs are still a bit sore,” he reminds you.

“I’ll be alright,” you say confidently. 

He chuckles and heads back to his car. You wave him goodbye for the last time then head to your apartment.

Five minutes later, you text him.

[To: bunny kook] I stubbed my toe on the couch 🙁

He laughs out loud and decides to call you. You don’t need him to come back, you say, but you wail that you miss him already.

He knows what you mean but it doesn’t stop his heart from doing that thing again. He ends up talking to you on the phone throughout his drive and while you’re both unpacking and then packing again for your respective trips. 

You hang up first and Jungkook already dreads what these next few weeks of being away from you would mean.

Settling into the feeling could mean accepting that proximity is the biggest factor and that being physically apart is what’ll make him get back to how things used to be. He could also be convinced it wasn’t much anyway. 

It could mean settling into the idea that both of you have changed over the years and have truly committed to just being better friends for each other. 

Or it could mean that there really is something more, and he’s gonna have to figure out how to live with that, whether or not you feel the same way.

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[lay-z]

Kinda kinky, but made it domestic and fluffy. (I guess, idk...) Also, very long for some reason, sorry. MINORS, DNI! 18+ !!! Pairing: F!Reader x Simon 'Ghost' Riley Warnings/Info: Established relationship; domesticity; fluff; consensual smut; masturbation kink; praise kink; some dirty talk; explicit language; cussing

It's Friday evening, barely past 8 pm, inside your apartment in the private 141 apartment complex on base.

After a late dinner – homemade lasagna with fresh ingredients, because you always thrive to get something proper other than MRE's into Simon's and your own system – you and your boyfriend are sprawled out on your large deep brown leather couch.

Cuddling, resting, and relaxing after a tough week of training and "important" briefings on duty.

The atmosphere is filled with contentment and coziness, while the delicious smell of lasagna and the fresh shower steam wafting into the open living space from the nearby bathroom, still linger in your shared apartment. The lights are off, except for the vanilla-scented candle you’ve lit on the white sideboard and the flickering lights of the TV screen illuminating the spacious room.

With the both of you now suffering from a food coma, Simon is laying on his broad back, taking up nearly all of the couches’ space. One muscular arm tucked behind his head on the armrest casually, the other hand playing with a few strands of your hair on the back of your head, his eyes half-lidded and glued to the large flat TV mounted on the opposite wall, currently playing the first episode of Band of Brothers, after you two had finally settled on something to watch – something you'd both enjoy.

Meanwhile, you're laying between his spread thighs, draped over him with your cheek resting on his lower stomach, your right hand rubbing slow, soothing circles over his lax abs with your flat palm and tracing the many faded scars while his tight black shirt is rucked up to his chest; his belly now slightly round and full, sporting a food baby, and thus not as hard and ripped as it usually is.

You can hear his stomach work as your ear presses against his pale skin, his gut already processing the food and sounding like a bunch of whale calls while his strong heartbeat fades into the background noise like a steady drum. It's an odd concoction of sounds, and you swiftly find yourself paying more attention to your boyfriend's bodily functions than your favorite war show playing on TV.

"What's so funny, eh? We're laughin’ at WWII now?" Simon asks eventually after your second quiet snicker to yourself, his deep voice sounding gruff and heavy with beginning fatigue, though it still carries that familiar dry, deadpan humor of his.

"Nope. Nothing," you reply with another breathy chuckle, patting and caressing his lower abdomen reassuringly. Perhaps a little bit too close to his crotch this time.

The sudden movement makes his muscles flex below your palm, and a low groan escapes Simon's slightly parted lips and both actions immediately trigger something within you, like a house cat being taunted by its owner moving their hand below a blanket.

"Don't... don't do that, luv," he chides you gently, cupping his free hand over yours to keep it still on his stomach, "Gimme another good thirty minutes, and I'll rock yer world." Simon tells you, stifling a yawn.

While he keeps your ministrations at bay with his mammoth hand, you prop yourself up on your other elbow with a small pout before you wordlessly begin peppering wet and hot kisses along his belly, down to his naval and lower abdomen, inhaling his masculine scent greedily while your nose nearly digs into his milky, scarred skin.

"Bloody hell, lass – don't, I –" Simon protests half-heartedly, sucking in a sharp breath, before another low groan slips past his lips as he shifts his body beneath you.

"Watch the damn TV and let me do my thing.” You mutter against his skin, though there is no bite behind your words, only teasing and affection – and burning determination. You two didn’t have any time nor strength for sex all week and you suddenly feel like making up for it now.

A low grumble vibrates in his chest in return and you know he wants to object again, but then he doesn't, because Simon is low-key just as horny as you are – he was just trying to be mindful, thinking you’re too tired to engage in anything sexual with him tonight.

"Always so goddamn bossy when we're alone," he mutters instead, clicking his tongue in mock exasperation, though a small smirk tugs at the corner of his scarred mouth.

“C’mere then, lovey,” he murmurs in his deep, gravelly voice, swiftly pulling his black T-shirt over his head and letting it fall down on the fluffy carpet next to the couch haphazardly, before he audibly pats his now bared chest in silent command with the hand that was previously tucked behind his head.

He needs to feel your lips on his first; ease in to this slowly before he might come too quickly; it’s been a week after all and Simon is only now realizing how tight his balls are.

However, you shake your head with a cheeky smirk, nuzzling the tip of your nose into the coarse dark hair of his thin happy trail, feeling his muscles flex at the sweet touch, before lifting your head to gaze up at him through your lashes.

“I wanna suck you off, baby. Can I?” You ask in a sultry purr, almost innocently, batting your eyelashes at him as you tug on the waistband of his grey sweats, pulling at it playfully before letting it snap back against his skin.

A rough groan escapes Simon as he watches you play with the thick hem of his pants and he already knows, despite his stamina, it will be a quick first round tonight; he’s way too sensitive and you know exactly what to do to drive him wild with lust. That familiar heat of arousal is already pooling into his gut and making his blood rush south.

“If I say no, what’re ye gonna do, hm?” He counters gruffly, biting back a sly smirk; his dark eyes fixated on yours, burning and molten and filled with desire and curiosity – because he rarely denies you anything, if ever.

“Maybe I’ll just do it myself,” he adds after a beat of silence, “Make myself feel good.”

Simon can practically watch how you process, assess, analyze his words in the span of mere seconds, but then your pupils dilate comically large, like a cartoon characters, and a foreign look appears on your face, one he’s never seen before. His heartbeat accelerates and he grunts lowly as you push yourself off his stomach to sit back on your haunches between his spread legs while the soft leather of the couch creaks and shifts as you move.

“Okay,” you retort in a breathy, deadpan voice, your eyes never leaving his, “I’ll watch.”

Simon instinctively shifts on the couch as well, propping his large upper body up in a reclined sitting position when he hears that you mean business. His dark eyebrows raise slightly at your unexpected reaction – the fact that his joke-proposition seems to excite you so immensely. His cock twitches and throbs inside his boxer briefs in return.

His eyes roam over your curves briefly, noticing how your braless breasts rise and fall with heavier yet slow breaths, nipples already peaking behind the fabric of your tight black crop top. You’re clearly aroused and Simon is sure he can smell you already, sweet, slick and warm and, most importantly, all his.

A pleased growl rumbles through his buff chest, until he remembers what exactly made you react this extremely.

"Yer into that?" He asks incredulously, brows drawing together in disbelief and curiosity, though if he's honest with himself, Simon is not surprised in the slightest.

You always encourage him to be more vocal in bed, make sounds, let loose. The dirtier, the better. Plus points if he sounds like a goddamn caveman claiming you; grunting and groaning in your ear while his fat cock is buried inside your tight cunt up to the hilt. You always love that.

"Yes," you answer curtly, squirming in your seat already. "I used to watch blokes jerk off and fuck their pocket pussies all the time on the Hub. Looked up the biggest, buffest lad and imagined you being the one doing it." You confess bluntly, a wicked smirk creeping on your lips as his big doe eyes grow even wider.

"Pff, seriously?"

Simon tries not to show it too obviously, but that is, hands down, the hottest and most flattering admission you've ever shared with him. Gods, he bloody loves your bluntness.

"Yes, sir." You nod enthusiastically while he snorts and rolls his eyes in mock annoyance.

You only ever call him Sir off duty when there's a deeper meaning behind it – a plan.

"So... you – you wanna see that, innit? Wanna watch me have a wank in front of you and look all pathetic while I could also just...fuck you properly instead?" Simon enquires with a hint of sarcasm, scratching the stubble at his chin as he studies your beautiful face appraisingly, still obviously hesitant about the whole idea.

"Uh-huh," You nod again, smiling at him with a certain twinkle in your eyes, like a child finally receiving a toy it always wanted but never dared to ask for. “Please.” You add for good measure, tilting your head to the side in a playful manner.

Simon quirks an eyebrow at you, his eyes flickering over your pretty features to make sure you're really not messing with him. He's never done that before; it has never occurred to him that anyone would want to see him do that.

Masturbating has always felt pathetic and awkward to him; it's a means to an end to him and especially those Combat Jack’s are the worst. Feel sad and horny, jerk off, feel sad and empty afterwards. Done deal.

But how can he ever deny you that particular pleasure when you've always been so good for him? So incredibly patient, caring, and loving despite all his flaws and issues; way before you've become a couple, even.

"Fine. I'll do it," he finally huffs gruffly, his own heart skipping a hard beat, his brows creasing together in a slight frown while he can't hide the obvious tent already sporting in the front of his sweatpants at the sight of your beaming smile and sparkling eyes after getting exactly what you want – again.

"But ye're not allowed to touch me...or yerself. Understood?"

Oh.

Your nostrils flare as you exhale sharply, drumming your fingertips along his clothed thighs as you narrow your eyes at him, pondering briefly.

"Yeah... okay... sounds like torture, but... the fun kind." You agree reluctantly, giving a small shrug, though you quickly notice that his strict order only fuels your growing arousal and excitement. It’ll be like watching your own personal porn after all.

Simon moves his knees then, a silent warning to get your hands off like you agreed to, and you retrieve your hands from his thighs with a tiny snarl that makes him chuckle darkly while you rest your palms on your own thighs instead.

“Be my good girl then and take yer top off, lovey. Show me yer pretty tits, yeah?”

Yet again, a violent shiver runs down your spine as soon as Simon gives you another order in that deep, gravelly voice of his and you don’t hesitate to obey his request – peeling off your tight crop top to reveal your breasts to him at once and dropping the piece of clothing next to the couch, your skin flushed with arousal and carnal desire for him.

“Like this?”

Simon hums deeply in approval, his pink tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip, like a wolf licking its chaps, while his whiskey-colored eyes darken and gleam an inky black as they drink in your gorgeous, bare upper body, now only illuminated by the soft candlelight and the flickering lights of the TV screen, still playing Band of Brothers. You look like an absolute goddess and his fingers itch to reach out and touch, flick his thumbs over your perky nipples just the way you like it, squeeze and grope your tits until you mewl with neediness.

But, alas, he doesn’t.

“Aye, just like that,” he grunts out, shifting and adjusting his position until he’s comfortable on the couch and has a good view on you. “Bloody perfect, you minx.” He adds thickly in a low murmur.

And then, without a further word, Simon finally hooks his right thumb into the waistband of his sweats and boxer briefs and tugs both fabrics down until the stretchy waistbands are snug taut below his balls, right at his taint, adding some pressure to the sensitive spot. He grunts when his large cock springs free from its confinement and rests on his lower stomach, a droplet of pearly pre-cum leaking onto his dark happy trail from his blushing tip, making your mouth water on sight and a breath hitch in your throat.

The musky scent of his arousal hits your nose, and it takes all of your trained willpower not to pounce on him. No, this is special. You can't ruin it with your impatience.

There's a slight grimace on his ruggedly handsome face when he simply grabs his shaft, then his right mammoth hand wraps around his girth completely. It almost looks painful to you, but Simon bites his cheek and fights the immediate shudder of pleasure running down his spine at his own rough touch, giving himself a few slow, tight strokes.

"You're a dry guy?" You ask curiously, scrunching your nose up in surprise. You always use some kind of lube when you give him a nice hand job.

"Huh? Yeah?" Simon's eyes flicker from his throbbing cock to your eyes, then swiftly back again, shrugging his broad shoulders before stilling briefly, then he clicks his tongue in annoyance.

Great, now he feels like he's doing it wrong; something he's been doing to himself for years. It’s not his fault that his calloused hands cannot compare to your soft ones anymore and that you’ve completely spoiled him with your gentle yet firm touch; you’ve utterly ruined him for himself at this point.

“Mhm,” you hum appraisingly, practically buzzing with pent-up arousal as you squirm in your seat between his spread legs again and feel the fabric of your thong rub between your slick folds and against your pulsating clit in delicious torture.

“Spit in your fist, baby,” you advise him then, your own mouth filling with saliva at the sheer thought, completely self-conditioned, “Enjoy it for me. Relax.”

Simon nearly groans at your words, but suppresses the wanton sound again, all to your disapproval.

“Fuck –“ He grunts through clenched teeth, nostrils flaring as he's already crumbling beneath your smoldering gaze and bratty pout.

The urge to just pinch your pretty nipples in retaliation and grab you by the nape of your neck like a disobedient kitten, only to make your plump lips spread and open up over his needy cock, is becoming more unbearable by the second.

Eventually, Simon lifts his right hand, because he does want to put on a show for you, and spits into his rough palm generously.

The sudden choked whimper that spills from your lips at the lewd gesture of his makes it all worth it, tough, and Simon lets out a guttural moan this time, when he cups his leaking tip with his slicked up fist and twists his wrist for more friction.

“This good enough for you, luv?” He manages to ask in between guttural grunts and deep, deliberate breaths.

Meanwhile, you don’t even know where or what to look at as your feral eyes try to drink in and process this whole scene in front of you – his flushed cheeks, glazed eyes, how his abs and the muscles in his chest and arms ripple and flex with each heavy breath and movements, the way he works on his long, girthy cock for you. It’s still such a rare sight for you – seeing him this open and vulnerable.

If Simon would let you, you’d record and safe all of it for later.

“Yes,” you breathe out in return, voice hoarse and thick with lust and need, utterly captivated and amazed by his performance. “God, yes, baby. You look so fucking sexy right now.”

Your praise sends a jolt of hot, searing pleasure straight to his cock while Simon keeps fucking into his rough fist and his breath stutters briefly as he tries to maintain his fervent rhythm, muttering curses under his breath.

When his head lolls back against the armrest while a husky groan tears itself from his throat and his hips buck up into his own hand instinctively, right in front of you, you have to take several deep breaths to keep yourself seated on your haunches and, simultaneously, from reaching out to him – even though it’d be so easy to just…join him, perhaps fondle his balls and increase the pleasure.

Letting out another whimpery moan at the thought, your own fingers are now digging into the fabric of your gym leggings on your thighs, fidgeting and twitching restlessly while you move and roll your hips desperately, trying to find some release as your soaked thong keeps rubbing your swollen clit between your folds.

Simon can already feel how pathetically close he is and he knows it’s only because you’re watching him wank off right now, enjoying it – and praising him for it in that tooth-achingly sweet voice of yours, too.

It usually takes him so much longer to cum on his own, no matter how blue his balls are, but this is different – a good kind of different, and the tension in his lower stomach continues to rise at a rapid pace while he can barely hold eye-contact with your mesmerizing eyes when you’re looking at him like that, all aroused and needy with lust.

“’m close,” Simon huffs out, sounding like an angry bull as he bends one leg and puts the other foot down on the ground for leverage, readying himself for the inevitable.

“Play with yer tits for me, beautiful,” he requests through his clenched jaw as he watches you squirm through heavy-lidded eyes, “Help daddy come.”

“Oh…Fuck…” you practically gasp out as soon as you hear him calling himself that, and your head tilts back slowly with a breathy moan when your hands roam over your bare stomach sensually, up until they rest over your heavy breasts. You begin toying with yourself for him, groping and squeezing the supple flesh, tugging on your stiff nipples and rolling the sensitive buds between the pads of your fingers, until you’re panting for him like a bitch in heat.

While you’re playing with your tits like he asked you to, like the good, obedient girlfriend you are, Simon’s free hand finds its way slithering up his taut stomach, up his heaving chest, until it wraps around his own throat firmly, blunt nails digging into his scarred skin, tightening just enough to feel his own strong pulse flutter and thrum beneath his fingers, while he keeps stroking and fucking his cock into his tight fist with shameless vigor.

You and Simon moan simultaneously then – you at the sight of him choking himself suddenly, without warning, and he, because of all combined sensations bullying him to his peak all at once.

Eventually, his loud breathing keeps hitching, the vein in his temple protruding visibly as he keeps his grip around his throat, and your lips part with a wanton moan as you watch him climax, squeezing your tits harshly, as Simon’s balls tighten, eyes rolling back and fluttering shut and he finally comes with a guttural groan, spilling his thick, white release into his fist until it leaks and drips out from between his rough knuckles, making a mess on his lower belly.

“Fuckin’ hell, luv –“ Simon curses with a low chuckle, and swallows hard, still catching his breath as he releases his throat and lifts his head up from the armrest to look at you, feeling somewhat sheepish all of a sudden.

“That what you wanted?” He asks sarcastically, his voice all wrecked and gruff as he gestures at the mess on his stomach with his clean hand while his body keeps shuddering with aftershocks.

You need a moment to find your voice again, your heart still hammering against your ribcage just from watching him get off while your core is still fluttering and pulsing with want and a desperate need for attention.

“Y-yeah,” you admit with a few tiny nods, still blushing with arousal after heaving a deep sigh, “That was…perfect. You were bloody perfect, honey.” You utter another praise and watch his cheeks tint with a blush.

“Tsk,” Simon scoffs, shaking his head slightly, completely blissed out of his mind, “You better shut it, lass, and help me clean up this mess.” He grunts dismissively, though he’s grinning proudly.

“Gimme ten minutes, lovey.” He remarks with a wolfish smirk, the innuendo clear as he doesn't bother to tuck his half-hard cock back into his sweats, after you’ve retrieved some soft tissues from the box on the coffee table.

Making him cum now merely opened the floodgates, like shaking a champagne bottle and pulling the cork recklessly; his hunger for you has only been ignited and, boy, he is starving again, though not for your delicious lasagna this time.

When you hold out the tissues to him with an amused look, Simon grabs your wrist suddenly and hauls you on top of him again, up to his chest this time, wrapping one strong leg around your body securely to keep you caged in before he cups your cheek with his cum-slicked hand and finally captures your lips in a deep, sloppy kiss.

He knows you don't mind the mess.

[trevorsturnioloappreciator]

Good Girl

Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader

-After a hard day at work, you seek comfort in Matt. He knows exactly what you need.

cw: explicit material (oral m!receiving, daddy kink, hair pulling, praise kink) looooots of pet-names, use of ‘sir’, he says ‘slut’ one time, rough!matt, patronizing!matt, matt’s sort of mean in this :P in the hot way

a/n: minors Do Not Interact!! i tried my best to not describe the reader or use any language that would insinuate anything about her looks :) also no use of y/n i hate that shit. this is the first fic i’ve written in like six years so i appreciate all feedback!

⋇⊶⊰⊱⊷⋇ ⋇⊶⊰⊱⊷⋇ ⋇⊶⊰⊱⊷⋇ ⋇⊶⊰⊱⊷⋇ ⋇⊶⊰⊱⊷⋇

It was Friday, the one day you got off work early enough to spend the rest of your night with Matt, it was around 6:30 when you finally parked your car in his driveway and made your way up the stairs. The day you just had was replaying in your mind, all the grief you got from your boss and the way every coworker on your floor watched you leave her office, eyes welling, face hot from the embarrassment. You couldn’t help but feel defeated, like you had deserved the verbal assault and all you wanted now was your boyfriend.

Matt was perfect. He knew exactly how you needed to be treated before you could even tell him, which was lucky for you, considering how flustered you got asking for anything, let alone something on the more sexual side. It’s why the closer you got to the top of the stairs the more your body started to relax, albeit this also meaning your eyes once again felt the hot prickle of tears ready to fall.

You felt relieved as you saw the living room empty with just one ambient light glowing from above the sink across from you. you followed your heart and the sound of Frank Ocean playing softly to Matt’s bedroom door, rapping lightly with your knuckles so as not to startle him. Walking in, you saw him doing what you expected, sitting heavily in his chair, headset half on so he could still hear the low melody from his speaker, making final edits on a new hour long video the boys had filmed that week.

Matt straightens in his seat as he turns to where you’re leaning against the doorframe, waiting for him to welcome you in, nervously picking at your thumbnail. “Hey, doll, c’mere.” a smile breaks over his face as he takes his headphones off and twists his chair to face you, holding his arms out.

Walking in, you try and muster up a smile but it falls short as the comfort of Matt’s presence makes your damn finally break. You traipse over to settle into his lap sideways and tuck your head under his chin already feeling the tears spill over onto your cheekbones. Matt must’ve felt the drops falling onto his sweater as he cranes his neck to see your face where it’s nestled into his collarbones, “Whats wrong, honey? hm?” he rubs your leg where its propped up on the side of his chair, squeezing you closer by the arm he has wrapped around your shoulder.

You feel his lips meet your forehead gently, resting them there more than kissing you, you bring your hand to tug on his sweater, shaking your head and letting out an almost imperceptible whine. “awe, poor girl, d’you have a rough day? want daddy to help, baby doll? we can go lay down or…” his sentence trails off as you slip from his lap onto the floor between his legs.

Matt lowly chuckles as he watches you get comfortable on your knees, looking up through your still-wet-lashes at him, laying your hands on his thighs and resting your cheek on his left leg. Matt’s amusement is evident in his voice, “what’re ya doin, silly girl. not gonna even ask me?” his smile stays playful as he moves his hands from atop yours to rest on the sides of your head, the feeling of his cool fingers lightly touching your ears and the pressure of his big hands causes you to almost purr in his hold.

The tension from your day a thing of the past as you feel your mind floating to a place only your boyfriend can take you to. “s-sorry” speaking is the last thing on your mind but a part of you knows matt loves hearing you have to explain yourself, loves how you squirm at his insistence and especially loves your willingness to fulfill his wish through your embarrassment. “need daddy, need you ta just do what you want please, don’t wanna think.”

Your voice is meek as you move your hands up his thighs feeling over his soft sweatpants, not pushing too far as you know matt hasn’t given express permission.

One of Matt’s hands move to meet yours where it’s resting on his upper thigh as his right hand slides to cup your jaw, rubbing his thumb against the apple of your cheek.

“hmm, my sweet girl.. you need daddy? thats okay sweetheart, just need to ask like a good girl, okay?”

His voice is gentle and guiding with the slightest glint of condescension, just enough to make your eyes slip closed, melting into his palm as you blearily nod at his instruction. “could I please make you feel good, daddy, and let you do what you want to me, please, sir?”

Matt feels his heart clench at your words, always loving how he can get you so eager and desperate for him, your soft voice adopting that airy quality, eyes sparkling, looking at him like he was your whole world. Matt can’t help himself as he leans forward and lands a sweet kiss to your hairline, your cheek, then down to the tip of your nose. “My girl~.. so polite, you know how much I love when you use your manners, huh? Good job, sweetheart..” His voice soothing and husky, you can tell he’s beginning to give into you, but you also know he’s not that easily swayed.

Matt leans back in his chair, hands behind his head, like he’s relaxing on the beach and not mentally torturing you as you squeeze your thighs together, squirming where you’re propped on your knees between his legs. “Please.. please?” you’re trying your hardest not to break into a full-on beg but looking up at his smug expression, legs spread and chin tilted up as he stares at you down his nose, you feel like youre going to burst out of your skin, needing him to just grab you and take you.

The only response Matt dignifies you with is a low chuckle and a patronizing ruffle to your hair, you know you should be angry or even ashamed but the only thing running through your mind is how thankful you are for him. You feel your body temperature rising as his hand stills and starts patting over your head, “Okay, sweetheart.” he drags out the oookay in a placating tone, “Why don’t ya show me how bad you need it, hm? If you’re not gonna tell me whats botherin you, you can show me where you need me, at the very least, huh?”

Matt’s words are all you need to hear as you lift up onto your heels, planting your hands on the muscle of his thighs and tilting forward to shyly nuzzle against the slight tent forming in his sweats. You look up, gauging his expression, feeling nervous no matter how many times Matt has reassured you that there’s just about nothing you could do to him that he wouldn’t love.

“Ah…” he drags the syllable as if he’s just connected the final clues to a mystery. “That’s what my dirty girl wanted. Need me let you sit there and have daddy take over like a good girl?” You nod lethargically, head swimming with desire, your nose brushing against the part of him you want the most. “Need it, i’ll be good, promise..” Hearing your own words distantly, you almost feel like someone else is in your head controlling you, opening your eyes to meet Matt’s devilish expression, you begin to half believe he is in your head.

You mouth desperately at his bulge, wetting the gray fabric of his pants, digging your fingers into the meat of his thighs, furrowing your brow at how close you are to what you’ve been thinking about all day. Matts large hand thats still resting on the crown of your head suddenly tightens to grip your hair firmly, “Okay, okay… let daddy take care of ya, princess. I can see how bad you need it, hm? Need to be put to use?” You begin to nod as much as you can while he still holds you by the hair, Matt kicks the chair from behind him as he stands in front of you, using his tight hold on your hair to make you crawl after him as he moves closer to the end of the bed.

The whine you let slip could only be described as pitiful. It makes Matt’s face light up as he lets go of you, smoothing your hair down and bending to kiss where he had previously been tugging you.

“Alright, babydoll stand up for me.” as you rise to your feet, finally feeling how numb your legs had become, you lilt forward to hug around his waist. Matt chuckles sweetly and uses a gentle hand on your jaw to tilt your head back, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

The sheer intensity of the kiss makes you feel like you’ll never be able to breathe again, only able to inhale what he lets you, nose filled with his scent and a lingering breath of the cologne he must’ve put on this morning. If this is how you went, you would die happy. Matt holds you firmly by the back of the neck, using this leverage to pull back just slightly, lips barely touching as he examines the mess he made of you, in contrast, you study his composed demeanor, making you feel a flutter of shame at just how worked up you are knowing matt has barely even touched you.

The thing to snap you out of your own head is a soft thump from beneath you, looking down, realizing Matt has tossed a throw pillow on the floor in between you two. His hold on the nape of your neck stays firm as he lowers his head just a bit to really meet your hazy eyes, “You gonna be a good girl and get on the ground for me? I know your poor knees must hurt, hm? Sit on the pillow, doll, get comfy. Don’t wanna hurt ya too much.” The splitting grin on his face as he says this last sentence is enough to make you that much more aware of the arousal in between your legs.

Eyes never leaving each others as you drop to your knees, Matt’s hand cradling the side of your face. Once you’re settled his soft touch turns to a grip on your chin causing your lips to form into a pout, making him laugh at your position.

“Such a good slut, bet I could tell ya to do anything and you would.” He uses his tight hold on your face to manipulate your head into an exaggerated nod, “Uh huh, and you’d love it… love when daddy bosses you around, makes you humiliate yourself…” Matt’s smile stays wide but his eyes have lost all humor as he bends to be eye-level with you.

“But you don’t have to worry about that, sweetheart, you know i just wanna take care of you. Help you let go, stop doin all that thinking, huh? Yeah… ‘s too much for my girl, thats why you just gotta let daddy do all the thinking for ya.” He finishes his words with a light couple taps on your cheek. By the end of Matt’s monologue his smile is reaching his eyes and you can tell, even through the fog in your head, that he’s sincere, slightly teasing, yes, but he means what he’s saying, knows how much you need him to take over.

You only nod dumbly in response which gets you another tender kiss as a reward. Matt straightens out and lets go of your face, holding out his hands to you. “Gimme your hands, baby.” Your hands placed in his up-turned palms are then guided to hold his hips. “Want ya to keep your hands here for me, tap me twice if it’s too much, alright?” Matt’s stern tone letting you know that this was a rule not a suggestion, “Mhm, yes, sir.”

“Good girl~!” His voice as though he was giving a treat to a puppy who learned its first trick, causing you to squeeze your legs tighter, hyper aware of the wetness growing in your panties, and smile up at him lovingly.

“T-thank you, daddy..” Your low voice like kryptonite to your boyfriend, moving his hands from where they were settled over yours to play with your hair, gently twisting the strands with a blissed out look on his face.

“Okay, babydoll, I liked that little show you put on for me earlier but…” His voice trails slightly as he tugs on one of the strands of hair he’s still holding, “I dunno if you’ve demonstrated just how much you need me in your mouth, so daddy’s gonna let you try again, hm? How’s that sound?”

“Mhm mhm i’ll show you!” At this point your brain is so beyond feeling embarrassed you don’t even realize how pathetic you sound, only knowing you’re allowed to put yourself to some use, allowed to prove your devotion to Matt. Immediately leaning forward your mouth reattaches to the still damp spot on Matt’s sweats, licking and kissing at his erection, needing to convey all the words and feelings swirling in your head through your lips.

You’re still fully attached to him as your grip on his hips tighten, mumbling through the fabric, “Please, please lemme take ‘em off, your pants, please.” You feel like your skin is on fire, mouth too empty, head not empty enough. “Of course you can, princess, just remember, don’t move those hands.”

His words give you pause for a split second before you’re straining to bite at his waistband moving downward as you pull off his pants, you don’t even care that you hear him failing to stifle his laughter from above you, it only spurs you on, making you more wet, more hungry for him.

Matts hands in your hair start to move more to the back of your head, now pressing your face against his hard on, “That what you’ve been begging for this whole time? Daddy’s dick in your face, hm? Makes sense, what kinda guy would i be if i didn’t know how much my girl likes getting her face fucked, huh?” It’s these words that finally make you moan out loud, now more eager than ever to just get him down your throat.

“Please, please, need it so bad, more than anything please. Don’t wanna breathe anymore unless you want me to, need daddy to make it better~” You’re almost unaware of the words you’re saying as they tumble out of your mouth, Matt certainly enjoyed your little outburst as he lets out a quiet Fuck under his breath, now completely hard as he haphazardly tugs down his boxers, kicking them and his sweatpants from around his ankles, reaching to his back and pulling his sweater over his head.

Then just as you were about to get what you wanted, Matt pushes you back slightly at the shoulder, tugging meanly on your shirt, “Take all this shit off, keep your panties on.”

A shiver runs through you while you rush to take all your clothes off, obediently repositioning onto the pillow, feeling Matt’s scrutinizing eyes on you, making your face heat up. “Good job, doll, say ‘ah’…” His smile is verging on cruel as he holds your chin, pulling your mouth open.

You follow his orders and he immediately steps closer to you, slapping his tip against your tongue. “Ya look so pretty, baby…” his voice trails off as he uses the hand under your chin to guide your mouth onto him, letting out a deep groan and rolling his head back.

“Fuuuck, good girl…” Matt’s eyes are back on you as you slowly work your mouth up and down his length, your eyes slip closed, finally feeling your body and mind level out, you feel Matt’s big hands lay on your head, assisting your movements. “Open those eyes… ‘Atta girl.” his left hand moving down to lightly pinch your cheek, right hand petting you softly as he stares down at you- shiny lips, teary eyes, and puffed out cheeks.

Suddenly, the hand that was previously stroking over your hair, was now firm at the back of your head, pushing you forward.

Your brows furrow as you gag on Matt’s dick, feeling him hit the back of your throat as he holds you still, laughing under his breath at your spluttering breaths and the tears falling down your cheek.

“Such a good job, babydoll, know how much you love choking on it, hm?” the hand he has on the back of your head lets go, allowing you to pull back for a full breath of air. “So good, honey, i love how you take it, love how you’d do anything to please me..”

Immediately after taking a break to breathe you put him back in your mouth, fervently bobbing your head, sucking him down to his pubic bone, forcing yourself to stay there, looking up at Matt as he smiles down at you proudly. “That’s my good girl, want daddy to fuck your face, hm?”

You nod as much as you can with your mouth so full, Matts smug smile only getting bigger at your answer, he plants his hands on the side of your head and starts slow. Pulling you off him just a bit before tugging you back down, again and again. Matt’s moans and swears increase as you gag and choke on his dick, you can feel him pulsing in your mouth as he thrusts messily, “Fuck, so good, so perfect, angel.”, he pants out the words, throwing his head back and finally holding you down on him, cumming down your throat.

“That’s it, baby, good job. Swallow it all like a big girl…”, he pats your head lovingly, before nudging your head off of him. The floaty feeling not subsiding as you slump down, hands still gripping at Matt’s hips, looking up at him with stars in your eyes.

“Thank you, sir…”, is the only words you can think of, watching Matt as he slips his sweats back on, “Don’t need to thank me, babydoll, I love helpin you.”

Matt’s voice lulling you, he comes back over to you and leans forward, picking you up under your arms and holding you to his chest. “C’mon, sweet girl let’s go lay in bed, hm? Did so good for me, im so proud of you for tellin me what you need, such a good job.” Matt carries you to the head of his bed, laying you down and walking over to his wardrobe, grabbing a long sleeve shirt and dressing you in it, sitting sideways on his bed next to where you’re sitting back against his headboard. “D’you want daddy to take care of you, hm?”, he says this while rubbing up and down your thigh, lightly nudging your legs open. The blush that covers your face makes you feel more shy as you answer, “N-no, that’s okay… just wanted to make you feel good, it makes me feel good.”

Matt smiles brightly at you, cooing at your words. “Awe, baby, that’s so sweet…”, he brackets you in between his arms as he leans forward to kiss you deeply. “My sweet girl..”, another kiss, “You know I love you so much, right? More than anything, just wanna give you everything you ask for.”

Your arms reach up to wrap around Matt’s neck, tucking your face into his neck, your blush intensifying at his words, “I love you, too. So much. Thank you for always knowing what i need, you’re the best thing to happen to me.” You’re still hiding your face in his neck, too shy to see his face as you speak your mind.

Matt leans back, bringing you with him and positioning you in his lap, his hand on the side of your face pulling you away from his shoulder to look at him. “I’m always gonna take care of you, sweetheart, it’s my job.”

[capuccinodoll]

The boyfriend act, part 2: "The one with the purring traitor" Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter summary: You and Frankie hash out the details of your fabricated story, all while enduring the blatant betrayal of your own cat and your brother’s relentless teasing. WC: 8.4K

A/N: Hi everyone! I'm so happy to see how much you enjoyed the first chapter of TBA! Your comments mean the world to me—I absolutely love reading them, and I hope you love this part just as much <3 let me know what u think ;) Don't forget to lmk if u want to be added to the tag list, and follow capuccinodollupdates for notifications <3

Friday, August 9th. One day before the party.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, the sound breaking the quiet of your bedroom. You set your book down, its pages splaying open across the blanket, and rolled onto your side to grab your phone. The screen lit up.

[Unknown number]: Outside.

You exhaled sharply, a breath that sounded louder than it needed to. Your stomach twisted, a faint ripple of nerves spreading through you. 

Five minutes later, Frankie stood in the center of your living room, his hands planted firmly on his hips. His brows were drawn together, his expression impatient as he watched you move around the kitchen. The faint smell of tea leaves and honey filled the air as you poured hot water into your mug.

“You don’t seem to be in much of a rush,” he said finally, his voice carrying the faintest edge of irritation.

You glanced at him briefly, your hand stirring the tea as if to say he could wait.

“What’s the rush? The party isn’t until tomorrow.”

Frankie didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked around the room, his eyes flicking to the books stacked on the coffee table, the blanket draped haphazardly over the arm of the couch, the quiet clutter of a space lived in but not always tidy. He shifted his weight, his boots scuffing lightly against the floor, the impatience practically radiating off him.

You blew on your tea, meeting his gaze over the rim of your mug.

“You look like you’re about to explode. Sit down, you’re making me nervous pacing around like that,” you said as you walked past him, your hand cradling the warm mug. “Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink?”

Frankie hesitated for a moment, then dropped into the couch across from you. He ran a hand through his already messy hair, making it stick up at odd angles.

“What do you have that isn’t hot?”

You settled into the couch, the mug resting on the coffee table in front of you. The surface was cluttered with your used stickynotes, a few receipts, coasters, and an old pen you didn’t remember leaving there.

“Water, iced tea, a couple of cans of soda.”

Frankie leaned back, only to be interrupted by Mr. Darcy, your perpetually attention-seeking cat. The tabby appeared from the side of the couch, his soft meow high-pitched and delicate as he rubbed himself against Frankie’s leg. You frowned, betrayed.

Frankie leaned down, his hand immediately stroking the cat’s fur, and Mr. Darcy responded with a loud purr.

“What kind of soda?” 

You rolled your eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t know my guest was royalty. Next time, send a list of your preferences in advance, princess.”

He lifted his head and rested his elbows on his knees, leaning closer with an expression that was almost amused. Almost.

“I just asked what fucking flavor. Relax.”

“Coke.”

“I’ll take one.”

You stood with an exaggerated sigh, letting it linger in the air, but refrained from commenting on his lack of manners. The word please seemed allergic to his vocabulary, but you didn’t feel like pointing it out. Not today.

When you returned, you set the can of Coke down on the glass coaster on the table and took your seat again. Frankie reached for the drink, his fingers brushing the cold metal as he popped it open. The hiss of carbonation filled the quiet, mingling with the soft hum of Mr. Darcy’s purring at his feet.

“Okay, tell me about them,” you said, your tone clipped and businesslike, as if the two of you were about to negotiate the terms of a merger. You folded your hands neatly on your lap and fixed your gaze on him. Frankie, meanwhile, was focused on the can of Coke he’d just opened. He tilted it to his lips, taking a long sip. The way his throat moved as he swallowed made you glance away, irritated for no good reason.

When he finally set the can down on the coaster, he looked up at you.

“My mother’s name is Helena. She’s kind, easygoing. And observant. She’ll be watching us like a hawk the entire time. She already has her doubts about... all this.” He gestured vaguely, as if to encompass the entirety of the situation. “So we can’t get sloppy.”

You leaned back, crossing your arms over your chest.

“That’s going to be difficult, don’t you think?”

“Well, you’ll have to cooperate.”

You scoffed, an expression of mock offense crossing your face.

“I have to cooperate?”

“Yes. You.”

“Believe it or not, Francisco,” you said, leaning forward ,“I’m very nice. Easy to get along with. Mothers adore me.”

Frankie raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching like he was suppressing a laugh.

“That may be,” he said, his tone skeptical. “But I can’t risk even one slip in this... circus. If we let our mutual... our mutual thing show, she’ll catch on immediately. Believe me.”

You mirrored his arched eyebrow, matching his energy.

“Fine. Just be nice to me, and I’ll be nice to you. I promise.” You let the words hang for a moment, watching as he relaxed just slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing. Then you added, sweetly, “I just want you to remember, at all times, that no matter how nice and lovely I am, it’s all a lie.”

Frankie leaned back, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. “Noted.”

The he exhaled heavily, rolling his eyes as if to physically expel his frustration. His hand moved to his neck, fingers brushing the skin in an absentminded gesture, like he was trying to ground himself. Mr. Darcy, ever the opportunist, leapt onto the couch beside him, his sleek tail flicking against Frankie’s arm. The cat’s head butted into him in what looked like a gentle plea for attention. You watched the scene for a moment, torn between amusement and suspicion, your lips pressed into a thin line.

“Just get a grip, okay? You can’t react to everything I say like it’s a personal attack.”

You arched an eyebrow, leaning back slightly with your cup in hand.

“And what about you?”

“What about me?” He leaned forward again, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped tightly together like he was preparing for some kind of intervention.

“You have to behave yourself too. Sometimes, you don’t even realize how nasty you’re being. Maybe it flies under the radar for most people, but if your mom is as observant as you claim—and she’s your mother, so obviously she knows you well—she’s going to pick up on all those little micro-attitudes. Immediately.”

You delivered the last word like a verdict, your tone carrying the weight of someone speaking to a particularly stubborn child. To your surprise, Frankie didn’t argue. Instead, he nodded slowly, his expression calm, even thoughtful.  

“Yeah. I can do that.”

“Good,” you replied, watching him carefully as you lifted your cup to your mouth, the faint steam curling around your face. You let the warm liquid sit on your tongue, satisfied—for now—that you might have just come to an agreement with the most impossible person you’d ever met.

Frankie began describing his family in broad strokes, filling in the blanks with enough detail that you felt as if you were piecing together a portrait of his life. You listened intently, committing everything to memory like a student preparing for a crucial exam. 

Helena, his mother, was the first to come up. She was fifty-nine, a literature teacher with a reputation for being kind but quietly persuasive. Frankie mentioned that she had a particular way of asking questions that felt more like peeling back layers than making polite conversation. She still lived in Austin, sharing a house with his youngest sister, Maia, ever since his father passed away almost two years ago. That detail hung in the air for a beat longer than the others, but he moved on quickly.

Luna, his oldest sister, was next. She was forty, an interior designer based in Boston, and from Frankie’s tone, it was clear she had a strong presence in the family. “Kind, funny, a little overbearing,” he said, his mouth twitching slightly, as if recalling an incident that perfectly illustrated her character. She was married to Henry, a wealthy architect fifteen years her senior. Frankie made a point to say that Henry was a good man—honest and big-hearted—and seemed to mean it. Together, they had a ten-year-old son named Jamie.

Sofía came next, the middle sister. She was thirty-eight and owned a flower shop. Frankie described her as friendly and warm but also hinted at a guardedness beneath her cheerful exterior. She lived in Austin with her sixteen-year-old daughter, Grace, a name that carried an air of quiet reverence when he said it. You wondered what Grace was like, if she carried more of her mother’s warmth or her uncle’s sharp edges. For the sake of her, you hoped for the first option.

Finally, there was Maia. Twenty-nine, a graphic designer, and still living at home with Helena. Frankie hesitated before speaking about her, his expression shifting slightly. “Of all of them,” he said, almost reluctantly, “she’s the most complicated.” Not because she was difficult or unpleasant—quite the opposite. Maia, he explained, was the kind of person who could see through walls, so perceptive it was almost unnerving. “She’ll figure us out if we’re not careful,” he warned, his tone heavy with certainty. 

By the time he finished, you felt like you’d been handed a dossier. Each name and detail was a thread you knew you’d need to hold tightly. You nodded as he spoke, mentally sorting the names and faces into a map of relationships you’d need to navigate. This was going to be more than a performance—it was going to be a test.

Frankie exhaled, slapping his palm against his thigh with a finality that felt rehearsed, like he was drawing a line under the conversation.

“That’s it, I think,” he said, his tone flat as his eyes lingered on you. 

But you weren’t ready to let him off the hook. Squinting slightly, you folded your arms across your chest and leaned back into the couch.

“And what about you?” you asked, tilting your head as if that might give you a different angle on him. 

He raised an eyebrow.

“You know me,” he replied with unearned confidence. 

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, letting the sound punctuate the silence before glancing away. Amusement tugged at the corners of your lips as you brought your gaze back to him.

“I don’t know anything about you. All I know is what little Santi’s told me, what I’ve overheard here and there... that’s it.”

“That’s something,” Frankie interjected, leaning back slightly as he crossed his arms, lifting his chin with a smugness that made your fingers itch to knock him down a peg. “Go on, then. Tell me what you know.”

His expression dared you, and you met it with a smirk of your own.

“Fine,” you said, sitting up straighter and pressing your lips together in mock seriousness. “You’re in your thirties, you live alone, you’re a pilot, you like beer... Oh, and apparently, you can devour a whole burger and fries in under ten minutes.”

Frankie snorted, like he couldn’t quite decide whether to laugh or call you ridiculous. He held your gaze, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to wait you out. But the smirk stayed on your face, unwavering, and eventually, he sighed. 

“I’m thirty-five,” he said finally, his voice measured and calm, as though reciting facts from a resume. “I live alone, yeah. Used to be in the CAG, but I retired a few years ago. Personal reasons. Now I’m teaching pilots-in-training over at the JPA.”

“Oh, right, I already knew that. That’s where you met Santi, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“And what were you doing there? He never told me much.”

“I’ll tell you some other time,” he said, sounding either annoyed or uncomfortable—it was hard to tell. “Do you know what CAG stands for?”

"Tell me."

“Combat Application Group,” Frankie said, his tone steady, measured. “Do you know what that is?”

You arched an eyebrow, shaking your head. 

His lips curled into a faint, humorless smile.

“Then they’re doing their job right. They change the name every so often. Some people know it as Delta Force.” He paused, his eyes searching yours, as if testing how much you could handle. “I was part of the CAG for most of my military career.”

For the first time, you found yourself leaning forward, your interest genuine, your usual quips momentarily silenced. Frankie seemed to notice, his expression softening slightly, though the seriousness never left his face. 

“Why did you retire? What happened?”

For a fleeting second, his eyebrows twitched.

“Personal issues,” he said again.

You exhaled through your nose, sitting back slightly.

“I’m supposed to be your girlfriend. Shouldn’t I know that?” 

He sighed. Shaking his head just enough to let you know he wasn’t budging, he replied:

“No one in my family is going to ask you about it.”

You studied him, your eyes narrowing slightly, searching for any crack in the armor he wore so carefully. But Frankie didn’t flinch. His shoulders remained squared, his gaze firm, the set of his mouth resolute. Whatever lay behind the personal thing was locked away, and it was clear he wasn’t going to hand you the key. 

After a few more seconds of silence, you nodded, more to yourself than to him.

"Okay, I get it,” you said with a sigh, letting your gaze fall to your hands resting in your lap. For a moment, you traced invisible patterns on your palm, your tone edging toward resignation. “What do you want me to tell you about me?” 

“Nothing. I know enough.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.” 

“I’m not trying to be mean. Santi has told me what’s necessary. I know enough to get by.”

“Oh, really? Enlighten me,” you said, folding your arms across your chest, your tone daring. 

Frankie gave you a slow, confident smile, as if he’d been preparing for this moment.

“You’re twenty-nine years old. Santi’s your only brother. You studied Literature, and you’ve been running your dad’s bookshop for, what, six years now?” He paused briefly, letting the words settle before continuing. “You like cats. Movies—especially horror movies. You love the cold, which is ironic since you’re from Austin, where it’s basically summer all year. And you’re... well, I wouldn’t describe you as outdoorsy or... or adventurous.” 

He glanced at you with a faint smirk just as your expression twisted in a mixture of surprise and mild disgust. His hand dropped to pet Mr. Darcy, who had curled up beside him, purring softly. “Oh, and your cat’s name is Darcy.”

“Mr. Darcy," you corrected him. "Santi told you all that?” 

Frankie shook his head, his focus still on your pet, his hand moving in lazy strokes along Mr. Darcy’s back.

“He didn’t tell me outright. But he let it be known. You just have to listen.” 

There was something about his tone that irked you—a subtle but undeniable air of superiority, as if he’d decoded your entire existence from a handful of anecdotes. You studied him for a moment longer, debating whether to challenge him further, but Mr. Darcy’s contented purring seemed to deflate your frustration. For now. 

“Well, I… Well,” you faltered, unsure of what to say. "Okay, I was thinking, what should I wear to the party?"

“Something nice. Not too fancy. But cute. You know, approachable."

"Sure," you muttered, feeling the weight of his gaze on you as he smoothed a hand over the cat’s fur.

"You have to make a good impression. But not too good. You need to seem... normal. Forgettable, even. Be nice, but don’t go overboard."

"What’s the point, then? I thought my job was to be the awesome girlfriend. Isn’t that what you wanted?"

Frankie leaned back against the couch, stretching his legs out, and gave a slow shake of his head like you’d just said something profoundly silly.

"Yes, but don’t overdo it. I don’t need my family asking me about you for weeks after. Tomorrow’s the first and only time they’ll see you, so what’s the point?"

"What a waste," you whispered to yourself, but loud enough for him to catch. “But fine, your family, your rules. So, what should I bring your mom as a gift?”

Frankie waved his hand dismissively.

"Don’t worry about it. I’ve got that covered."

“So you’ve thought of everything, huh?” you said, letting a touch of mockery creep into your voice. “I didn’t realize this was such a big deal to you.”

Frankie snorted. "If this is what it takes to stop them from setting me up with every woman they know, trust me, I’m going all in. No room for half-measures here."

He scratched his chin thoughtfully, his eyes sweeping over the room, taking in the familiar clutter of your living space, before a long yawn interrupted the silence.

“But why do they even care so much about you having a girlfriend? I mean, I get it—you’re, let’s say, not the easiest person to tolerate, and small talk probably feels like torture for you. But I didn’t have you pegged as the kind of guy who needs his mom to play matchmaker,” you said, voice dripping with just the right mix of sarcasm and curiosity as you tilted your head.

“That’s a bold comment coming from someone who had to invent a fake boyfriend because her ex, who dumped her for someone else, invited her to his wedding.”

Fair. That stung, but you couldn't bring yourself to be genuinely angry. Instead, you let out a small, wry smile, your ego only slightly bruised.

Frankie continued, unfazed by the fact that he had clearly made his point. “And I have no problem getting someone,” he said, stretching his legs out casually. “I just don’t want to. I don’t feel like dating anyone, much less getting romantically involved. But of course, they don’t get that. They think I need to settle down, find a woman, all that ‘commitment’ shit.”

For a brief moment, you let your mind wander, imagining Frankie next to someone. His type, you wondered. What would she look like? Would she resemble you in any way? Definitely not, you thought. You hoped that wouldn’t be a problem.

You cleared your throat, shifting in your seat, and then asked, trying to sound nonchalant, though a part of you was genuinely curious.

“And why don’t you want to date anyone? You’re not one of those guys with an eternal commitment problem, are you?”

Frankie took a moment to think about it. He leaned back, looking almost lost in thought, his eyes distant for a second. Then, in a flash, Mr. Darcy leapt onto his lap, pulling him back into the present moment with his typical disregard for anything that resembled personal space. Frankie shifted a little, adjusting the cat so it was comfortably curled on him.

“My last relationship didn’t end well,” he said suddenly, his voice unexpectedly serious. “We were together for about a year and a half. She broke up with me a little over a year ago. It wasn’t exactly my best moment, but her reason was that I wasn’t what she needed.” He paused, his gaze unfocused for a second, as if reliving the memory. “I tried to tell her I’d make the changes, that I really wanted to, but she didn’t care. So we broke up. And then, like two weeks later, I found out she’d been cheating on me with some guy from work—does that sound good enough for you?”

You blinked, processing it all, and felt a slight pang of sympathy, which you hadn’t expected.

“Well, that sucks,” you said, glancing down at the floor, feeling a bit awkward. You bit your lower lip, then looked back at him, unable to hide the trace of empathy in your voice. “But it makes sense now... I think."

Mr. Darcy, seemingly done with his intrusion, hopped off Frankie’s lap and sprawled on the floor instead, rolling onto his back in that exaggerated, dramatic way cats do when they’re probably overheating. His belly was exposed, a show of complete vulnerability.

"Yeah. Well. I guess," Frankie said, leaning forward as if the weight of his own words had just fully settled in. He rested his elbows on his knees and interlocked his fingers, his hands becoming a tight knot as if trying to physically hold everything together. Then something seemed to click in his mind. He looked up at you, the shift in his expression almost imperceptible. “Have you talked to Santi about this?”

You furrowed your brow, a little thrown off by the question.

"No, I thought you were going to tell him."

Frankie shook his head. "I didn’t tell him anything. I thought you were going to tell him."

You clicked your tongue, trying to shake the odd tension settling in your chest.

"We should tell him, don’t you think?" Your voice was sharper than you intended, but you couldn’t help it. "Although I'm sure he'll think this is a bad idea."

When you opened the door, Santi’s smile appeared instantly, like the sun breaking through clouds. He pulled you into a hug, enveloping you in that unmistakable warmth only a brother could give. It was absurd how much you’d missed him, considering you’d seen him just two days ago. But that was the thing about Santi—he had this way of making you feel like everything was fine, or at least like it could be.

When he let go, his smile lingered. But then his gaze shifted past you, toward the living room, where Frankie stood by the couch, arms awkwardly crossed, caught somewhere between waiting and retreating.

Santi’s expression changed so fast it was almost comical—his smile collapsed into confusion, his eyebrows pulling together, eyes widening like someone had yanked a curtain back too quickly.

“Frankie?” he said, his voice pitching upward in disbelief. “What are you doing here?” His gaze flicked from Frankie to you and back again, his tone laced with the unspoken demand for an explanation. “What happened?” He stepped forward, clapping a hand on Frankie’s shoulder, nudging him as if to make sure he was real.

“Hey, man,” Frankie said, managing a small smile as he accepted Santi’s hug. His voice was casual, but you could feel the tension beneath it, like a thread pulled too tight.

Your stomach knotted, the weight of the moment pressing into you. This was a mistake. You shouldn’t have agreed to Frankie’s deal, not like this, not without more thought. But it was too late to undo it now, wasn’t it? The pieces were already in motion, and there was no way to unring a bell.

Half an hour later, Santiago was sitting in the couch across from the two of you, his arms folded tightly over his chest, his expression shifting between disbelief and reluctant curiosity. He hadn’t spoken in a while, too busy digesting everything you’d just explained. When he finally did, his words cut through the silence like a whip.

“That’s fucking ridiculous. Are you crazy?” he asked, though his incredulous smile suggested he thought maybe you were joking.

You and Frankie were perched on opposite ends of the couch, as if a force field separated you, like your bodies were mutually allergic to the idea of being any closer. Frankie had his arms resting on his knees, his hands clasped together, his gaze fixed somewhere in the middle distance. You sat with your elbow propped on the armrest, your cheek resting against your hand, trying to look nonchalant.

“Do you really think this is going to work?” Santiago asked, shaking his head.

“It’s going to work,” you said, the firmness in your voice at odds with the knot of uncertainty in your stomach. “It’s not that complicated. Harry’s already met Frankie, so that part’s fine. We go to the wedding, stay a little while, and then leave. Tomorrow? Same thing. We show up, I do my forgettable bit, and then we’re out. Easy.”

Santiago raised his eyebrows, unimpressed.

“¿Easy? Your mom knows me, man,” he said, turning to Frankie with an accusatory tilt of his head. “You don’t think it’s going to be complicated if she thinks you’re dating my sister?”

“I’m not planning on telling her she’s your sister,” Frankie said. He sat up straighter, his hands tightening into fists briefly before he relaxed them again. “This is a one-time thing. I promise you, it’s not going to lead to trouble. It’s just a favor. A transaction. Nothing more.”

“And what happens when they run into each other again?” Santiago asked, his voice rising slightly as he gestured between the two of you.

“How likely is that, Santi?” you shot back, your brow furrowing in irritation.

He clicked his tongue, leaning forward like he had you cornered.

“My wedding is in a few months, smartass. Frankie’s mom is invited. What’s your plan then?”

The room fell into a charged silence. Oh.

You hadn’t thought of that. Neither had Frankie, apparently, because when you turned your head, you found him looking at you for the first time since this entire mess had started. For one fleeting moment, your eyes met, a shared look of complicity—and, more importantly, desperation.

“Of course, you didn’t think of that,” Santi said, his voice cutting through the growing tension like a whip. He dragged a hand across his forehead, closing his eyes as if summoning the patience to deal with you both. When he looked up again, his expression was pure exasperation.

“God, you guys seriously make me desperate. Are you two ever going to be normal with each other? First, I have to put up with years of your petty, hateful attitudes, and now this?” He gestured between you and Frankie as if the very sight of you sitting there made him tired. “Do you want to kill me? Is that the plan? Seriously, I’m asking—do you both want me dead?”

The sheer absurdity of his words made you laugh, even though you tried to swallow it.

“Oh my God, Santi, you’re so dramatic,” you said, shaking your head, though you were half-smiling.

“Dramatic?” he repeated, incredulous.

“Hey, man, look,” Frankie cut in, like someone trying to defuse a bomb. He leaned forward slightly, his hands open, his tone edging toward apologetic. “I promise I’ll fix it. I’ll tell them she’s your sister—no big deal. And then I’ll come up with something to explain how we ‘broke up’ on the best possible terms. No drama, no mess, okay? I swear.”

You nodded quickly, eager to latch onto his plan.

“Exactly. This can stay simple, we’ll just say we broke up over something normal. Totally amicable, decided to stay friends. Easy.” Your tone softened as you leaned toward him, more pleading now. “Really, Santi. Please, please don’t get mad.”

Santi let out a heavy, theatrical sigh, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just tipped his head back and closed his eyes like he was praying for patience.

“I’m not mad,” he said finally, though his tone suggested he might not be entirely convinced of that. His eyes opened, and he looked at you with something between disbelief and reluctant amusement. “I’m just surprised. Out of all the people in the world, you and Frankie are the ones pretending to date?” He let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head. “It’s fucking ridiculous.”

“Well,” you said, rolling your eyes as the irritation bubbled up. “It’s not like we planned this. I never thought I’d run into Harry in the middle of fucking nowhere. Besides, this wouldn’t have even happened if you—” you jabbed a finger in Santi’s direction, “—had gone looking for me in Dallas instead of sending Frankie. Or, I don’t know, if you’d given me a proper warning. I could’ve found another way home.”

Santi’s eyebrows shot up, his hand flying to his chest as if you’d physically shoved him.

“Oh, now this is my fault?” he asked, his voice dripping with incredulity. He pointed to himself for emphasis, his jaw tightening like he was trying not to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the accusation.

Next to you, Frankie snorted, shaking his head in that infuriatingly smug way he did when he thought he was being clever. You turned sharply toward him, glaring.

“Do you have something to say, Francisco?” 

Santiago let out a breathy, humorless laugh, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Frankie, meanwhile, scratched his chin, clearly deliberating how to phrase whatever was on his mind without making things worse. Or maybe he was just stalling, dragging out the moment for the fun of it.

“Yeah. First of all, I don’t understand what you’re trying to prove to this Harry guy. He’s marrying someone else, isn’t he? I doubt he cares whether or not you have a boyfriend.”

“Ah, right, 'cause you’re the paragon of honesty, aren’t you?” you shot back, the heat rising in your chest now threatening to spill out.

“Sure,” Frankie said with an infuriating nod, leaning back slightly as if to make room for whatever you were about to throw at him next.

You leaned toward him, unable to resist. “It’s not like you made up a girlfriend or anything, right? Tell me, Francisco, wouldn’t it have been easier to just act like a real man and tell your mom you don’t want to be with anyone? Instead of, you know, lying like a coward? Or is that too scary for you?”

Frankie laughed then, a low, sarcastic sound that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. He shifted closer, leaning in until his face was just inches from yours, his dark eyes gleaming with something sharp and taunting.

“He’s with someone else. He doesn't care about you. Get over it—”

“No one loves you—"

“Okay, fuckin' stop it!” Santiago shot up from his seat, his hands landing firmly on his hips as he stared at you with an expression that teetered between disbelief and outright despair. He shook his head, exhaling sharply through his nose. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. That’s how you’re going to convince people you’re together? What’s the plan tomorrow, huh? What are you going to do when people actually talk to you? This isn’t even remotely believable.”

“I know how to act,” you shot back, crossing your arms as you leaned into the challenge. You tilted your head, trying for a smug expression, though the heat rising to your cheeks probably undermined it.

Frankie let out a laugh beside you.

“No, you don’t.” 

“Sure I do,” you retorted, fixing him with a defiant look. “You’ll see tomorrow, Francisco. I’ll be super—”

“You almost shit yourself at the diner the other day, what are you even talking about? I saved you—”

“Oh my God, stop!” Santi cut in, throwing his hands up in a desperate plea for silence. He made a horizontal motion with his hands, like a referee calling a foul. “Stand up. Now.”

“Why?” you asked, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“Just. Stand. Up.” Santi said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You hesitated, glancing at Frankie as if he might somehow explain what was going on. He was already on his feet, his movements slow and deliberate, like he didn’t particularly want to comply but knew better than to argue.

With a resigned sigh, you rose from your spot, the tension in your shoulders apparent even in the way you stood. The second you moved, Mr.Darcy wasted no time, sliding into the space you’d just vacated.

Santiago leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest, his expression unnervingly calm. He watched you both like he was observing a particularly amusing experiment, his lips twitching as if he were holding back a smirk.

“Okay,” he said after a moment, his tone almost conversational. “Kiss each other.”

You blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “What?”

Frankie, equally caught off guard, tilted his head toward Santi. “Sorry, what did you just say?”

“Kiss,” Santi repeated, his voice louder this time, like he was explaining something to a particularly dense child. He gestured between the two of you. “Frankie, kiss her.”

“Absolutely not,” you said immediately.

“Are you crazy?” Frankie added, shaking his head vehemently, his face scrunching up like the very idea was offensive.

Santiago raised his eyebrows, his calm demeanor giving way to something more pointed.

“What, you didn’t think this through? How the fuck are you planning to convince anyone you’re dating if you can’t even manage a little kiss?”

You stared at him, dumbfounded, your brain struggling to process the absurdity of what he was suggesting. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Frankie’s jaw tighten, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

Meanwhile, Santi seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. There was an unmistakable glint of amusement in his eyes, his gaze darting between you and Frankie like he was watching the climax of a particularly entertaining play.

He was savoring this—your awkwardness, your obvious discomfort. To him, this wasn’t just funny; it was justice. A kind of poetic payback for the years of chaos and petty feuding you and Frankie had inflicted on him. The sheer satisfaction on his face was infuriating, but also, somehow, undeniably deserved.

“Well?” he prompted, raising his hands in mock encouragement. “Go on, lovebirds. Show me how convincing this great plan of yours is.”

You glanced at Frankie, hoping for some sign he was going to end this absurdity. But he wasn’t looking at you, or at Santiago, or even at the floor like a normal person. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling, his teeth dragging over his bottom lip like he was physically restraining himself from speaking. His hands rested on his hips, fingers tapping idly against his belt, while his foot shifted incessantly, a nervous rhythm you couldn’t unhear.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms.

“Is this fun for you?” you asked Santi, your voice sharp enough to cut through his amusement.

He barely suppressed a laugh, the corners of his mouth twitching upward as he gave a little shrug.

“Of course it is. Look at you two. You can’t even conceive of the idea of a teeny, tiny, innocent little kiss.” He paused, his expression shifting into something mockingly thoughtful. “You know, Fish,” he added, turning his attention to Frankie, “your mom invited me to her birthday tomorrow.”

That got Frankie’s attention. His head snapped toward Santiago, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“It’s a shame,” Santi continued, raising his eyebrows in exaggerated regret. “But I can’t go. I’d love to see the two of you embarrass yourselves in front of an audience. That would’ve been a real treat.”

Frankie clicked his tongue, clearly irritated. “Come on, man, don’t start.”

But before Santiago could respond, you interrupted.

“Kiss me,” you said, turning to Frankie with a tone that was less a request and more a threat.

Santiago let out a breathy laugh, stifling the full force of his amusement but not entirely succeeding.

Frankie looked at you like you’d just suggested a double homicide, his brows lifting high enough to crease his forehead.

“Come on,” you repeated, stepping closer to him. You let your arms drop to your sides in what you hoped was a disarming gesture, but Frankie didn’t budge. His expression didn’t soften, either—in fact, it somehow got worse. He was looking at you like you’d offered him a plate of raw sewage.

“Come on, Fish,” Santi chimed in, his voice laced with mock encouragement. “One little kiss and that’s it. What’s the big deal?”

You stayed where you were, holding Frankie’s gaze, your jaw tightening as you willed him to just get this over with. But he remained firmly rooted in place, his face still twisted in disgust.

And then something shifted in your chest. It was small at first, but it grew quickly—an anger, sharp and undeniable. What the hell was wrong with him? Was the idea of kissing you that horrifying? It wasn’t like this was real. It wasn’t like it meant anything.

You snorted, shaking your head as determination overtook you. Without giving it another second of thought, you crossed the space between you in a single, decisive motion.

“Wait, what the fuck are you—” Frankie started, but his words cut off as your hands gripped the sides of his face and your lips crashed against his.

The kiss lasted no more than three seconds, but it felt like an eternity. His lips were softer than you’d expected, warm and surprisingly still. Your eyes stayed firmly shut, as if that could somehow make the situation less mortifying.

When you pulled back, it was abrupt, almost violent. You jerked away from him and immediately crossed your arms again, your defenses snapping back into place.

Frankie stood there, completely still, his face frozen in an expression of shock. His eyebrows were furrowed, his mouth slightly open, and his eyes were unfocused, like he couldn’t quite process what had just happened.

“It’s not that hard, Francisco,” you said, your tone clipped as you turned away and sat back down on the couch, this time right next to Mr. Darcy. “I’m a woman, not an alien. It’s not so terrible.”

Your brother was staring at you, his expression a mixture of delight and disbelief. For a moment, he said nothing, just taking in the scene like it was the best entertainment he’d had in years. Then, with a wide grin, he walked over to Frankie and delivered a solid punch to his stomach.

Frankie clicked his tongue in annoyance, snapping out of his daze with a low groan.

"I’m already regretting this," he muttered then, his voice low but sharp, as he turned his back to you and Santi. 

“You can’t regret it now,” you called after him, your tone sharper than you meant. It was enough to stop him. He turned his head slightly, just enough for you to see his face. He didn’t look angry, not exactly. There was no sharpness, no fire. Just this quiet disappointment.

“A deal’s a deal,” you said. "You were the one who insisted. Or have you forgotten that already?”

“No,” he said, a little too quickly, his eyes flicking to the ground. “Of course not. I just—” He paused, rubbed the back of his neck. “We didn’t think it through.”

From his spot against the wall, Santi let out a low whistle, arms crossed as he watched the exchange unfold like it was a show he’d seen before.

“Yeah we did,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “The issue isn’t that. The issue is you chickening out. You were fine until Santi showed up.”

“Oh, now it’s my fault again?” Santi asked.

You shrugged, noncommittal.

“Okay, well,” Santi said, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. “Do what you want. It’s none of my business. Just—” he gestured vaguely, like he was brushing something away, “be a grown-up about it. And don’t screw it up, yeah? Because, honestly, of the three of us, I’m the one who has to deal with your shit.”

“We won’t cause trouble,” Frankie said, his voice quieter now but clear. He glanced at you, then at his best friend. “You have my word. I’ll keep it together. I'll be respectful. No bullshit. I promise.”

Santi nodded, his mouth twitching into the faintest smile. He reached out and clapped Frankie on the shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Sure, man. I trust you. Just—” He laughed lightly, his smile widening. “Don’t be such a child.”

He turned to you then, something knowing in his gaze, before looking back at Frankie. His laugh came deeper this time, warm and unguarded.

“Oh, I know exactly how this is going to end,” he said, shaking his head.

He didn’t stay much longer, mentioning something about dinner plans with Yovanna and promising to call tomorrow. The air felt lighter as he left, like he’d taken the weight of the moment with him, leaving only the two of you standing in its wake.

A few moment later, Frankie was ready to go too, or at least he looked like he was. He sat across from you now, his posture relaxed in a way that felt calculated, like he was trying to project a calm he didn’t entirely feel. Your cat, utterly oblivious to the undercurrent of tension in the room, rubbed insistently up and down his leg, purring loud enough to fill the silence. Frankie absentmindedly ran his fingers along his fur, the gesture soft, almost tender.

From where you sat on the opposite end of the couch, you shifted slightly, trying to tread carefully. Your voice, when it came out, was low, calculated even—an attempt not to poke at the fragile truce that had settled between you.

"You know Santi’s right, don’t you?" you asked, watching as Frankie’s head lifted immediately, his gaze locking onto yours. "I mean, I don’t know how you are with your actual girlfriends—if you’re, like, affectionate, or into, you know, public displays of affection or whatever. But if we’re going to do this, you’ve got to get over it."

"I don’t have anything to get over. We just need to stick to the basics."

"Aha, the basics," you echoed, leaning forward slightly. "Sure, okay. But you couldn’t even kiss me without looking like it was physically painful."

"That’s not fair. You caught me off guard, that’s all. The context was weird. Santi was watching—it threw me off." He shook his head, his discomfort practically radiating off of him.

You leaned back, crossing your arms as you let out a short laugh, the sound more exasperated than amused.

"Your whole family is going to be watching tomorrow."

You stood abruptly, the movement carrying your frustration with it, and crossed the room in a few quick steps. You didn’t look back as you walked into the open kitchen, heading straight for the sink and grabbing a glass from the counter. The sound of water filling the glass was the only noise for a moment, the silence stretching uncomfortably.

Frankie didn’t say anything right away. When you turned around, your glass now empty in your hand, he was still in the living room, his focus firmly on your cat. He scratched behind his ears like he hadn’t just been called out, like he could stay there indefinitely and avoid the conversation entirely.

But then he stood, moving toward you with an unhurried calm that didn’t quite match the unease in his eyes. He stopped a few feet from you, leaning one hip against the kitchen island as if he needed something to ground himself.

"Your mother," you said, setting the glass down on the counter with more force than you intended, "your sisters, your aunts and uncles, your mom’s friends—they’re all going to be watching."

Frankie sighed. "It’s different." 

"Different how?"

"Because Santi’s my best friend. And you’re his sister. It was weird."

"And this is all fake, Francisco," you said, gesturing vaguely with your hand, like you were pointing out something so glaringly obvious it hardly needed to be said. "How old are you again? Forty?"

"Thirty-five," he replied, deadpan.

"Right. Almost forty. And you can’t do something as simple as kiss a woman. Yes, I’m your best friend’s sister. Yes, you clearly dislike me. And yes, I clearly dislike you too. But it’s just a kiss," you said, your tone sharp, cutting. Like you were explaining basic arithmetic to a particularly slow child. "A fucking—"

The word caught in your throat mid-sentence, stolen by the sudden, startling pressure of Frankie’s hands on your face.

Before you could react—before you could even think—he was there. Close, impossibly close, his fingers firm but steady as they cupped your jaw, his palms warm against your skin. His eyes barely met yours before his mouth was on yours, and for a moment, the world narrowed to that one unexpected point of contact.

His lips moved against yours with a precision that felt calculated, like he wasn’t rushing, but he wasn’t holding back either. They parted yours gently, and his breath mingled with yours, each second stretching into something that felt far longer.

Three seconds. Four, maybe five. It was enough for you to notice, to feel how his thumb brushed against the side of your face, to register the faint scent of his cologne. Enough for it to completely throw you.

Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it was over.

He released you, stepping back without ceremony. For a moment, he just stood there, looking down at you from his full height, his expression unreadable. Then he clicked his tongue, a sound so small but so maddeningly smug it made your blood simmer.

You didn’t move. You couldn’t. You were rooted to the spot, your thoughts a scrambled mess as you tried to catch up with what had just happened. Your breathing was uneven now, a shallow rhythm you couldn’t quite control.

Frankie turned away, shaking his head slowly as if he were frustrated—with you, with himself, with the entire situation. His hands flexed at his sides, his gaze fixed on the floor.

When he finally looked back up at you, his scowl was sharp enough to cut. There was something accusatory in the way his eyes narrowed, as if he were blaming you for... what? Letting him kiss you? Letting him prove a point?

“I can do that, no problem,” Frankie said, his voice dripping with confidence, his expression so self-assured it almost felt rehearsed. He stood tall, chest slightly puffed, radiating an air of someone entirely too pleased with himself. “Stop being so fucking insufferable all the time, and maybe this whole thing would be easier.”

The words stung more than you cared to admit. You wanted to hit back, to say something sharp and cutting that would wipe that smug look off his face. Insult him, rattle him—anything to remind him that if this situation was unbearable, it wasn’t because of you alone.

But no words came.

Your throat tightened, and you couldn’t force yourself to speak. It wasn’t just that you were angry—though you were. It was that he was watching you now, not with his usual indifference but with something sharper, something closer to scrutiny. Like he was waiting for your reaction, ready to pounce on it, to use it against you.

Frankie leaned back against the kitchen island, crossing his arms over his chest. His gaze dropped to the floor, and for a moment, it felt like the room itself had shrunk, like the air had turned heavy and suffocating. The silence between you was uncomfortable in a way it had never been before.

You swallowed hard, the sound loud in the stillness, and forced yourself to meet his eyes.

"Thank God you’re not my real boyfriend," you said finally, your voice breaking the tension. You tilted your head, letting a sly smile curve your lips as you arched a single eyebrow. "I’d rather kiss a toad."

The corner of Frankie’s mouth twitched, and for a second, you thought he was going to brush off your jab entirely. But then he let out a quiet laugh, one he didn’t even try to hide, his expression softening into something teasing.

"You’ve got a lot of experience with those, don’t you?" 

You rolled your eyes, letting out a soft, incredulous snort. Your gaze drifted to the empty glass of water sitting on the counter, the condensation forming a faint ring beneath it. You should’ve said something else, something sharp to cut through the tension still lingering in the air, but you didn’t.

Frankie straightened up, peeling himself away from where he’d been leaning against the kitchen island. He stretched slightly, his movements unhurried, one hand brushing absently over his stomach like he was just waking up from a nap. Then he reached into his pocket, his fingers curling around something—his keys, you realized—as if confirming they were still there.

He turned without a word and walked over to the couch, where Mr. Darcy had curled up in his usual spot. Frankie gave the cat a quick pat on the head, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary, then straightened again. When he turned back to you, there was something almost playful in his expression, a teasing glint in his eyes that made your stomach twist in a way you didn’t want to acknowledge.

"I’ll pick you up at six tomorrow," he said, his voice casual but firm, like it was already decided. "Don’t keep me waiting."

You blinked at him, disbelief washing over your face. From your spot leaning against the counter, you tilted your head slightly, trying to gauge if he was serious—or if he was just trying to get a rise out of you.

"Or what?" you shot back, your voice dripping with mockery. "You’re going to leave without me?"

Frankie paused at your door, his hand hovering over the handle. He turned his head, his eyes locking onto yours.

"I’ll come up and get you," he said, his tone low and almost threatening.

Before you could reply, he pulled the door open, stepping out into the hallway and closing the door with a gesture that felt vaguely theatrical.

You stood there for a moment, motionless, your eyes drifting aimlessly around the room. It was quiet now, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the corner.

Then a sharp, high-pitched meow broke through your thoughts.

You glanced down to see Mr. Darcy padding toward you, his tail held high like a little banner, the picture of feline confidence. He stopped just short of your feet, looking up at you with wide, expectant eyes. The kind of look that demanded attention.

“Oh, so now you’re coming back to me?” you asked, crouching down to run your fingers over the soft fur on his head. He tilted his chin upward, leaning into the touch like he hadn’t just spent the last hour fawning over Frankie.

"Of course, you traitor," you muttered, scratching behind his ears. "Now that he’s gone, you’ve suddenly remembered I exist."

Mr. Darcy purred in response, his tail curling slightly as he rubbed against your hand, but you snorted softly, the sound carrying a faint edge of betrayal.

"You’re lucky I love you," you said, your voice low, almost conspiratorial. "But don’t think I’ve forgotten how easily you switched sides. I don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you just yet."

He blinked at you, unbothered, and you couldn’t help but laugh under your breath. Still crouched, you rested your elbow on your knee, glancing toward the closed door where Frankie had disappeared. 

Mr. Darcy meowed again, drawing your attention back, as if reminding you of where your loyalty should lie. For now, you decided, he was forgiven. Just barely.

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Taglis: @paleidiot @gothcsz @everyth1ngfan @katw474 @mellymbee @pedritosgirl2000 @tsunamistorm123 @jokesonthem @sunnytuliptime @greenwitchfromthewoods @ashleyfilm @darkheartgatita @joelmillerisapunk @nandan11 @whirlwindrider29 @onlythehobi @diabaroxa @yellowbrickyeti (some tags aren't working apparently sorry!)

[bunlaozu]

April Showers

[Redacted] X Reader

type: angst? fluff at the end for u

word count: 1881

warnings: cw for lots of tears

this one is formatted a bit differently, i probably won't develop any sort of style for this for a while but! this time i have some hurt comfort for u, can u tell i love Redacted :3

once again pls don't mind the grammar,,, i was having it edited but ultimately decided to post it before it was finished for one of my friends, ty glasses for ur work tho <33

It was late April, and the spring rains finally decided to roll through Corland bay. The rain kept the two of you inside, as it did most Sundays, too dreary and wet to make use of the final day of the weekend before a new work week began. Usually, Sundays were chore days, a time for sweeping the floors, doing leftover dishes from the previous day, and washing the pile of work clothes from the previous week that no one had had the energy to do.

All the chores were done now and the late afternoon haze cast a cool blue on the living room behind half closed curtains.The setting sun was absent behind thick heavy clouds that rumbled with unshed rain and carried along cool ocean swept winds. The tv was set to a soft volume, some reality show played out its overly obnoxious sound effects that usually, as per routine, was only on for you to giggle at. Redacted laid in his usual spot at the curve of the L-shaped couch, the cushions pressed in from the times the two of you spent in this exact space week after week, with you in his arms watching bad late night tv. He looked like a spoiled cat this way, lounged out on bent cushions not meant for cats to sit on, but clearly understood no one would have the heart to force him up.

Usually, this time spent was relaxing; something soothing and soft before the start of a new stressful work week while Redacted softly ran his fingers through your hair and looked at his phone with the other, a routine.

Tonight was different. Maybe it was the deep thunder rolling through the house, cutting through the gentle evening sounds, or the patter of heavy rains beginning against the large living room panes. Maybe it was the lack of time spent at home this weekend, Friday spent in overtime, errands around the bay, or unfortunate inconveniences keeping you from home. Maybe it was none of that or maybe it was just this; the tv on low just for you, the soft blanket thrown over your legs, your favorite even, the fingers carding softly through your hair and the gentle breaths from above, reminding you that you weren't alone tonight or any night.

Your heart felt tight in your chest and your breath felt rough in a drowning sort of way, like maybe the heavy rains had been pouring into your chest this whole time creating a pool of murky reds. It had clung like a sharp thorned vine all week, small things keeping you from home, little things that maybe would be a bigger fight a week from now lingering stuck to your mind like mold. You wondered to yourself how you'd got here, after only a few months now living together domestically, happy, perfect.. but when did anything perfect stay as it was.

Of course nothing had changed, Redacted was nothing but attentive and sweet, charming and teasing, careful and considerate, and yet. You stared ahead at the small table below your tv where you kept your small knick knacks and plants that you decorated your home together with, the tv drone becoming a faded buzz in the background. It was a small shard of your home, a mix of the both of you so simple but was it really? Maybe tonight was different, maybe one day Redacted would stop meaning everything he said, everything he did for you.. he changed once entirely in the beginning, didn't he? You thought with a growing unease of the pink and pastels, the soft sanitary version you'd been shown of your love when you'd met. It wasn't that it was for a lack of trust in him that you spiraled, but more the question, when will he lose his trust in me? When will I be nothing?

It didn't take too long for him to notice your unnatural stillness, the kind of forced stillness that annoyingly makes you twitch anyways because of course he would notice, his eyes are only ever on you as if the tv’s glow didn't exist. Redacted's fingers stilled in your hair as he shifted slightly under where your head laid, his gentle concern radiating from him in waves.

"Angel..?" his voice was only just above a whisper, giving the impression he didn't want to break the softness of the evening lest you shatter. (so sweet, too sweet, undeserving.) He tugged you gently upward off his lap to guide your head onto his chest, holding you closer and bringing the soft throw blanket previously on your legs, back around your shoulders.

"Are you ok? Tell me so I can help." he murmured, his fingers finding their way back to your hair to play with. Your eyes stung the moment the words left him, the curtains you were facing going blurry from the water logging your eyes as you refused to look his way. It felt so deeply unfair to have this, the ocean deep divine worship of such a perfect person after so many years apart, your own doing.

Despite this you didn't move, putting a blanket covered hand over your eyes to pad away the warm tears only made worse by the frustration that they fell at all, before finally speaking up in a soft crackling cadence. "You.. you love me- right? Are you.. sure this is what you want?" The second the words left your mouth you cringed, threatening to shy away from his gentle ministrations in an effort to escape the suffocating sweetness.

Redacted seemed to falter for only a moment at the question, a stillness in his frame and a pause in his petting that was still just enough to notice, making you feel unusually cold. “‘Course i love you m’ angel, did.. I say somethin'?" he said with nothing but sincerity, his own voice seeming raw from such an accusation. Redacted seemed not angry or sad, only worried about anything he'd done that could have given you doubt today.

A choked off sob finally bubbled out of your throat, practically suffocating your words. "No! I.. what if? You have me, what's next? What if that's just enough and then-" the words ended in an agonized sound as you did your best to turn away from him to hide your tears. “Wha- what if i get boring one day? or- what if you find someone better? I d-dont want you to go..” the words came out more as a wobbly whine, the tears choking you every few moments as if they didn't wish the words to be said. the evening seemed daunting in a way, the end of the week, the end of a day, the start of a storm.

He cut you off gently before you can begin again with a kiss, not one unkind or meant to silence you but a bone deep compassion for your anxieties. The salt of the tears and the sweetness of cherry and mint mixing together on your lips was a grounding combination, a balm on your cracked open vine wrapped chest. He kissed you and kissed you, breathing sweet nothings and a bottomless devotion into your mouth till the tears finally slowed. His warm steady hands on your cheeks drew soft stars on your skin, reminding you exactly where you were.

He pulled back only just enough to run his stormy blue over your face, a sort of sad smile running into the creases of his face and behind his eyes looking almost like the clouds just outside the windows. "I love you. s'you and always you, y'hear?" he said resolutely, brushing a strand of hair from your face in a gentle affection so painfully sweet that the tears poured down your cheeks silently in fat droplets you were helpless to stop.

"Only you... only you." he practically prayed into your skin as he kissed your temple, your nose, your cheeks, kissing until you choked out a wet broken giggle. Redacted's smile at the sound was like the sunset after heavy rains, a soft glowing thing but this sunset was only for you. He kept you there like this, lavishing prayers of love upon your skin with each gentle caress and kiss for a limitless amount of time, maybe minutes or hours or no time at all.

"I love you too, y'know? And- and so sometimes I think- I'm just glad, is all.." you said softly with a sniffle, trying to wipe your face with the back of your hand only for your partner to catch your wrist. Redacted gently pulled your hand to his chest instead before taking his own scarred fingers to gently swipe the water away, the rough pad of his fingers so light on your cheeks it was almost as if he was swiping the rain droplets from a petal. "Well stop thinkin' so much hm? It’s bad f'you." he said with that grin of his, the one that reminded you of sunny afternoons at lake Bluemoss and multi-colored band-aids, the one you couldn't help grin back at no matter how hard you tried.

He held you against his chest and rocked you back and forth gently, where nothing needed to be said because this already meant everything. The silence wasn't a deafening thing, it was something in company with the storm pattering against the windows and the love inside your home that created its own noise. Suddenly the thunder wasn't so loud in your ears and the rain wasn't so heavy, maybe it would be a clear Monday morning tomorrow and the work ahead wasn't so crushing. You laid there slowly relaxing into his warm hold, dozing lightly to the sound of his heartbeat and the rhythm of his breaths against your ear.

-

The next moment you blinked your eyes open you were alone on the sofa with the throw blanket drawn up to your shoulders. The windows were peacefully dark now and the warm light of the kitchen replaced the earlier evening glow. The rain was only a pitter patter dying as the night crept in, making way for a chilly breezy morning tomorrow. As you sat up confused and exhausted and looked around, Redacted was approaching the couch with a bag of take out and two plates in hand, an exasperated smile on his face seeing you'd immediately woken up.

"Jus' can't let me surprise you, hm? I bought your favorite. Let's eat yea?" he said as he sat down and opened up the delicious smelling paper bag, making the both of you plates full of warm, amazing smelling food.

The rest of the evening was full of soft laughter and a better tv show, ending how it began with your head in his lap and his hands in your hair. The laundry got done eventually of course not by you, and the dishes were somehow done before the morning as well even if you'd forgotten to help with that in the sleepy haze post cry. Maybe he did need to carry you to bed at the end of the night too but maybe pretending to be asleep for that bit was worth it.

[eqt-95]

Easter put together an amazing flash fiction challenge that I've finally gotten around to attempting incorrectly*:

Genre: crack

Premise: sentenced to community service

Trope: in vino veritas

Subject: paint samples

*it is definitely longer than 1,000 words. my hand slipped.

also on AO3

----------------

Luthor Green

HOUR 1

"This would go a lot faster if someone picked up the tempo a bit," Alex said with a side-eye.

"Superspeed won't teach us any valuable lessons," Kara explained, carrying an armful of painting supplies.

Alex's side-eye became an eye-roll. "Listen, we aren't some rag tag group of teenagers who graffitied the centennial monument-"

"The Tag Teens," Nia whispered.

"-we are superheroes who-"

"Who caused seventy-three million dollars in damages fighting off an illusion," came a stern but familiar voice from behind Alex.

"Lena!" Kara exclaimed. Her hands sent the supplies sprawling across a drop cloth as they lifted toward the LuthorCorp CEO.

"It's Ms. Luthor, Supergirl."

The same hands fell lifelessly back to Kara's sides. Nia grinned mischievously. Alex was already over the entire thing.

"And she's right, Agent Danvers: powers won't teach any valuable lessons nor are they permitted," Lena continued, heels crisply clacking across the empty lobby floor. "Court orders."

"Rich coming from a Luthor," Alex mumbled, knuckles whitening as they tightened a paint roller to a long reach pole.

"But that'll take all weekend," Nia scowled.

"50 hours, actually," Brainy advised.

"Good thing you're getting an early start," Lena offered cooly. "Friday nights tend to be rather quiet around here-"

"I'm sorry, what?" Alex said, eyes fluttering with disbelief. "As in five-zero?"

"Correct," Brainy nodded. "Assuming no breaks except for the advisable pause between paint coats. That, and we should each average 300 square feet an hour for the base layer which is approximately 50% faster than the average professional painter - aggressive, but I have confidence in us. It also requires 20 square feet an hour for the rather intricate mural Ms. Luthor's marketing team has requested; however, I have gone ahead and simplified it to project as a paint-by-number scheme which seems quite popular among-"

"Mural?" Alex gawked. "No, no, we did not agree to a mural-"

"You agreed to paint LuthorCorp's lobby in preparation for the NC Science Summer Camp we are now hosting because a rag tag group of superheroes destroyed its original venue," Lena interrupted, gaze stern and voice in a tone that felt like an undressing. Alex glanced toward Kara whose chest was puffed out like she was jealous it wasn't directed at her.

"But I had plans," Nia huffed, eyeing the red cooler she was sitting on.

"That's hardly my concern and frankly, the task hardly fits the crime," Lena replied, fingers tapping against her crossed forearms. "If it were up to me, you'd be reinstalling the LuthorCorp signage you destroyed as well."

"It wasn't a crime," Kara grumbled. "And you were replacing that anyway."

"There's scaffolding in the corridor," Lena continued, "try not to turn this into a total circus."

HOUR 4

"What are you shaking? Is that spray paint?" Kara asked from the top of a questionably supported ladder.

"We can use spray paint?" Alex called from the other end of the wall.

"Interior use without proper ventilation is frowned upon," Brainy chimed in from his own end of the wall.

"Relax. It's a shaker," Nia answered.

"For what?" Kara asked.

"From what?" Alex added.

"Court orders said nothing about doing this sober."

HOUR 9

"Here champ," Nia said. A hand offered an ice cold beer.

"No thanks; I don't plan on being here that long," Alex replied stubbornly.

Nia examined an imaginary watch and shrugged. "Suit yourself," she continued before turning toward the questionably supported ladder: "Hey red, wanna do shots? I've got rum."

HOUR 10

"I'm telling you, it's the wrong color," Kara repeated.

"And I could care less-"

"Couldn't," Nia corrected. A drop of condensation fell from her latest concoction as the scaffolding creaked under her movements above.

"I don't care," Alex said, eyes narrowed toward the blue-booted feet dangling from overhead. "If they gave us the wrong paint, that's on them."

"But-"

"And it's 2am. Name a paint store that's open at 2am."

"If I just hop over to Europe and-"

"Oh!" Nia exclaimed, head peering out overhead. "That's a great idea. Maybe you could grab some scones-"

"No, nope. No powers," Alex glared at Nia who pouted and retreated from view. "I am not about to get called out on a technicality by a Luthor."

"She's just doing her job," Kara defended with flushed cheeks that screamed Kara was at least two shots deep.

"Are we just ignoring the whole trapped-in-kryptonite bit now?" Alex gawked.

"I just think we need to take a different perspective: new timeline, new me, you know?" Kara offered.

"Perhaps when we're between coats Supergirl can acquire the correct paint," Brainy suggested.

Kara's eyes widened and head nodded like a bobblehead. The only thing missing was a lolling tongue. Alex lungs expelled in a slow, centering sigh Kelly taught her. "Fine. New us, whatever."

HOUR 15

"You missed a spot."

"And you could help," Alex muttered, pressing her forehead to the extension pole dripping SW 6364, Eggwhite. "New us," she whispered until her eyes caught sight of something giant and purple: "Is that a bean bag chair?"

"Can't," Nia explained from within the giant purple bean bag chair that also arrived just as mysteriously as the Mary Poppins cooler offering up an endless stream of drinks. "M'waiting for my section to dry."

"There are other sections."

Nia shook her head. "Uh-uh," she managed between handfuls of popcorn. "Those are Supergirl's."

"She isn't back yet?" Alex balked. "How long does it take to get paint?"

"Maybe she's stopping by Noonan's for some sticky-buns," Nia said dreamily.

Brainy cleared his throat: "Accounting for typical Saturday morning traffic and the quantity of paint to be mixed-"

"And don't forget she'll want to learn how the paint mixer works-" Nia added.

"Fair point," Brainy replied and gave due thought to his recalculation. "With that in mind, my estimates indicate she is twelve minutes overdue."

HOUR 18

"Where the hell are you?" Alex hollered the moment Kara picked up.

"They were insisting it's right," came Kara's voice over speakerphone.

"Which is exactly what I told you eight hours ago. Now get back here-"

"So now I'm trying to get them to tweak the recipe and-"

"Absolutely not, Supergirl."

"But-"

"Get back here. That's an order."

HOUR 23

"Hey, Supergirl, help a girl lift that bean bag chair up here, will ya?" Nia called out.

"You've got paint in your hair," Brainy said from Alex's left.

"Gee, I wonder how that happened," Alex said, glancing up between the slats of scaffolding where Nia was humming the latest pop sensation and taking long sips of her self-named mixed drink.

"Initial deduction would indicate it's coming from-"

"I was being sarcastic."

"Ah, right."

HOUR 34

"Where did you get that?"

"Dreamer," Kara explained after a pull. The bottle sloshed with far too little liquid. A paintbrush lay forgotten on the floor. Paint drops were everywhere but the wall they'd been sentenced to complete. "I wonder if she still has any Red Vines. Ooh, or maybe Goldfish."

Alex's gaze scanned for the youngest superfriend who had most recently been adlibbing science puns about the phallic-looking test tube Brainy had painted. It was purgatory bordering on hell.

"And what if someone sees you? Did you think about that, Supergirl?"

"No one works this late on the weekend, Alex," Kara slurred, rubbing at dripped paint on her cape, "'cept Lena." A hiccup followed. The cape was now stained a moss green. "Lena," she continued in a sing-songy way that made sober Alex want to hurl.

"Dear god," Alex sighed, reaching for the bottle of Alderbaran Rum. "Give me that. You're done-"

"Not unless you admit the color is wrong," Kara pouted. Another hiccup. More spilled paint. Mrs. Fischer was going to be pissed.

"Do you ever think maybe we shouldn't be allowed to operate life-saving missions?" Nia posited from her perch two storeys up.

HOUR 39

"Ok, the Pewter on the beaker and microscope is finished. With any luck we can all be home by dinner. How are we doing with the rest?"

"The Polished Concrete has been applied to the shaded regions," Brainy advised. "I will commence outlining with the Charcoal Dust to the mitochondria and rocketship."

"Beautiful. Dreamer, how is the African Violet and Passionate Purple coming along?"

"Well…" Nia began from the depths of her cooler, "the DNA, bunsen burner, and solar system would be done," she continued, reappearing with a bottle of neon blue liquid.

"Would be? What do you mean 'would be'?" Alex asked, jumping with a thud from the scaffolding to take in the three-storey wall.

"I can't exactly do my portion until someone finishes her part."

"Finishes?" Alex repeated.

"'Start' would be more accurate," Brainy corrected, swirling his own Nia-Nal-authored cocktail.

Alex didn't have time to give that a double-take. Instead she backed up to survey the progress. Sure enough not a single paint stroke of green had been applied. A forefinger and thumb found the bridge of Alex's nose. The slow exhale didn't work as well this time.

"Supergirl?" she called and waited. And waited. "Supergirl? Super- where is she?"

"Follow the paint splotches," Nia answered before the rattle of a shaker interrupted further conversation.

HOUR 45

Alex let her brush drop into the empty pail. She rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck before checking the time and letting out a tired sigh. So much for dinner at home.

"How are we looking?" she called warily. "Any chance we'll be finished before the sun sets?"

"Nearly there," Nia called, somehow uninhibited by the conveyor belt of drinks she'd been knocking back all weekend.

"I've begun disassembling the scaffolding," Brainy affirmed, slightly more inhibited by the string of beverages he'd been knocking back.

"And Supergirl?" Alex asked. It was met with silence. Alex's hope vanished. A grimace took its place. "Supergirl?"

"This still isn't right."

Alex looked upward. To what, Alex wasn't sure - heaven was too far away because this was most definitely the last level of hell. "What isn't?"

Kara waved a handful of paint chips at the group. "This green - the paint sample still isn't right."

"How?" Alex huffed, landing with a thud from the scaffolding. She glanced between the chip and the sample they'd been given. "Looks right to me: foreboding, villainous, manipulative; it's 'Luthor' in color form - it's even written on the can. See? SW-6921, Luthor Green."

"And there's only one?" Kara continued, ignoring Alex's running commentary.

"Maybe it should glow in the dark?" Nia offered through the crunch of a cheese puff.

Kara's frown deepened. "I'm going to mix our own."

"Supergirl, hang on, no; and Dreamer will you please stop mixing drinks and pick up a paintbrush - Brainy, a little help here?"

"Far be it from me to tell Nia Nal what to do," he slurred from what was the vacant bean bag.

"Guys, can we please focus. I want to go home."

"And I want to run…" a hiccup, "run this to a head."

"She means 'ground'," Nia clarified before the sound of ice cubes jingled into an empty glass.

"Is that another bottle of Rum?" Alex asked. "Nia!"

HOUR 53

"Ok, guys, I'm close."

"To finishing?" Alex begged. Her head hadn't left her hands in an hour. "Close to finishing, right?"

"I've narrowed it to four different shades for the left half. I'm working with greys and purples which like, isn't ideal, but I think it's close. Now, the right half will be a bit trickier-"

"It's one color!" Alex erupted. "It's a single green. Why are we talking in multitudes when it is one - one - color," she shouted, stretching one extended finger for emphasis.

"Perhaps Supergirl is simply considering the lack of color neutrality coming through the glazing due to the slight tint of the low-e coating," Brainy postulated.

"Right," Nia snorted. A used lemon wedge sat in one hand and a salt shaker was held in the other. "It's the quality of the Sherwin Williams Luthor Green that Kara's all hung up on."

"What do you mean?" Alex pressed.

"I mean that-"

"I realize your limited competence lies in your powers, but I honestly thought you'd all be further along by now."

Alex looked up to find Lena standing, once again, in the middle of the lobby. "It is midnight on a Sunday, Luthor."

"Precisely. In less than eight hours this lobby will be bustling with children, their parents, and a hoard of my employees. This is what you've got to show for a weekend of work?"

"Look, see?" Kara exclaimed, finger pointing toward Lena. She stumbled to her feet, cape tangled around her and other hand gripping a dozen paint-filled brushes.

"See what?" Alex shouted. Her wits had ended hours earlier.

Kara marched toward Lena who lifted a single eyebrow in silent judgement. "It's not just one!" Kara slurred. "It's… a lot."

Alex looked between Lena and Kara's outstretched hand of brushes with dawning realization.

"Hang on: you thought 'Luthor Green' meant Lena Luthor's eye color?" Alex fumed.

A quiet 'ohh' from Brainy was interrupted by a howl of laughter from Nia.

"Um… yea?" Kara confessed, expression sheepish and confused.

"'Luthor Green' is part of LuthorCorp's marketing color scheme," Lena clarified curtly though her cheeks flushed red.

"Wait, it's not…" Kara started, nose scrunched in thought. "But why not? It'd be so much prettier. See? Lena, don't you think it'd be so much prettier?"

Alex's mouth fell open. "What?"

"I expect this finished before registration opens tomorrow," Lena continued through a crack in her voice.

Kara nodded eagerly. "So does that mean-"

"Use the 'Luthor Green', Supergirl."

[httpsdana]

Hi how are you, please can you do something with Pau Cubarsi and just something super sweet and fluffy x

Blush and Bliss~Pau Cubarsi

・��・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

It’s a Friday night, and y/n finally convinced Pau to do a self-care evening with her. He was hesitant at first, but with after a little pleading and a playful pout, he caved, laughing as he said, “Alright, princesa, whatever you want.”

She set up everything in the bathroom, laying out face masks, lip masks, and even some under-eye patches. Pau looks at it all with wide eyes, a bit overwhelmed. “Are we really putting all of this on my face?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, and you’ll love it!” she insisted holding up a fluffy headband. “Now sit down, handsome. This is going to be so relaxing.”

He chuckles, sitting on the edge of the tub. “If you say so. But only because my princesa wants to pamper me.” He lets her put the headband on, holding back a laugh as she adjusts it to keep his hair out of his face.

"you look so cute" she pinched his cheeks, making him roll his eyes playfully, opposite to the blush that found its way on his cheeks

She started by applying a hydrating face mask to his skin, and Pau sits still for about ten seconds before leaning in, trying to steal a kiss. “Ah-ah,” she denies, pushing him back gently. “We can’t mess up the mask, Pau! Give it a few minutes.”

He pouts, feigning offense. “You’re so cruel,” he teases. “How am I supposed to sit here with you looking so cute and not kiss you?”

y/n laughs slightly, rolling her eyes. “You’ll survive. Let me just finish applying the mask.” Once it’s on, she grabs two pink lip masks, handing one to him. “Okay, now this one goes on your lips.”

Pau examines the lip mask with curiosity. “It’s… pink,” he says, chuckling. “Are you sure this is going to make me look good?”

“Of course!” she grins, peeling the backing off and helping him place it on his lips. “You’re going to be the most radiant man in Barcelona.”

He tries to speak but remembers the mask and just gives her an exaggerated thumbs-up, making her giggle. Then she puts on her own lip mask, sitting down beside him.

y/n sits there, scrolling through her phone, showing him funny memes and videos, and he’s trying to laugh without moving the mask. But after a few minutes, he scoots closer, eyes twinkling with mischief. She narrows her eyes at him. “Pau… don’t even think about it.” she mumbled under the mask

He feigns innocence, his eyes wide. “Think about what, cariño?” he said, his mask slipping a bit.

She gives him a playful glare. “You know what. No sneaking kisses. We need these to stay put.”

He pouts again, mumbling through the mask, “You’re so mean.” Then he adds in a dramatic tone, “I’m suffering, and you don’t even care. I just want one little kiss.”

“Patience,” she giggles. “Good things come to those who wait.” She pats his cheek, and he sighs, pretending to be heartbroken.

Eventually, the time is up, and y/n gently peels off the lip and face masks. Pau watches her carefully, his green eyes watching intensely every detail of her face as she gently helped him remove the masks.

He eagerly waited for her to finish so he can finally close the distance between them. y/n leaned in to inspect his face, admiring how soft his skin looks.

“There,” she say with a satisfied smile, running a finger along his jaw. “You look radiant, Pau. How do you feel?”

He grins, reaching up to touch his cheeks. “Like I’m glowing. Guess my princesa knows what she’s doing.”

She's about to respond when he suddenly grabs the back of her neck and pulls her close pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. y/n laughs against him, feeling the warmth of his hands and the giddy happiness bubbling up in her chest. He pulls back with a mischievous grin. “Finally!” he says. “You have no idea how hard that was.”

She giggles, resting her forehead against his. “You survived. And now you’re all soft and pampered.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed with the results. “I hate to admit it, but you might be onto something with this self-care thing.”

“See?” she said in a teasing tone. “Next time, you won’t even need convincing.”

“Next time?” he laughs, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his lap. “Only if it means I get more time like this with you.” He brushes his nose against hers, his voice dropping to a soft whisper. “And maybe a few more of those kisses.”

She smiles, brushing a thumb over his bottom lip. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Pau. Otherwise, I’d make you wait even longer.”

“Oh, so I’m cute now?” he teases, his eyes gleaming with mischief, although his cheeks had turned into the darkest shade of red. “You didn’t seem to think I was cute when you were pushing me away earlier.”

y/n laughs at his words playfully rolling her eyes. “Yes, yes, you’re adorable. But let’s go finish our self-care night with some popcorn and a movie. I promise no more masks, just you, me, and maybe a blanket fort.”

He lights up at the idea, taking her hand and tugging you toward the living room. “That,” he says, squeezing her hand, “sounds perfect. As long as I get to hold my princesa the whole time.”

The two of them end the night snuggled up in a cozy blanket fort, laughing, sharing popcorn, and stealing plenty of kisses—face masks no longer in the way.

[allidoistrytrytryy]

a moment's silence when my baby puts her mouth on me (cove holden x reader)

ao3 version here

summary: Cove Holden and the black underwear (from Patreon moment 2, if you know you know), except it's his own surprise on a random Friday (smut with feelings)

word count: 3,116 words

tags: smut, porn with feelings, porn without plot, light dom/sub, switching, sexual intimacy, they're in love your honour, author has been feeling insane about cove for years and lately about the black underwear so here we are (female reader implied but i tried to be as non-descriptive as possible, can be a male trans reader too)

You were exhausted, your fingers rubbed at your eyelids and at your forehead, trying to take the headache away.

You had had a large project at your job, long hours, and planning that took too much of your time. You came home late, too late, so late sometimes Cove would already be in bed or asleep on the couch, always waiting for you (even though you had told him to sleep, not to wait up for you if you were too late, but he insisted every time).

You sighed at the thought of your fiancee. You missed him too much, missed being able to have time with him, going out on weekends or lazing around after work to watch a show you would fall asleep through anyway, snuggled in his warmth.

You hadn’t been able to do that in more than two weeks, always working, always in contact with your coworkers to continue the project even deep into the night. You were glad today was the presentation, and then you were taking a few days off, away from everything.

You felt the fear in your gut at the presentation. You were nerves on legs, as you always were when you had to talk in front of an audience. You knew that would never change, the way you spaced out, waiting and waiting, at your desk.

Your phone buzzed on your desk, which took you out of your thoughts and the ball in your stomach. A smile crept up on your face before you even had the time to read what the text said, at the name appearing on your screen.

Cove.

Romeo: You have this, show them what you’re made of. Love you. <3

You smiled hard, your finger rubbing at the heart emoji with the text, at the picture you had set as his picture on your phone. A picture of him asleep on your couch, snuggled under a blanket, his long hair freed from its usual low bun.

You hadn’t been able to resist the urge to take a picture, and your fingers had gone through his hair.

You sent him a heart back, now fired back up. You could do this, go home and kiss your fiancee senselessly until you fell asleep snuggled into his warmth.

And the presentation happened. It went well, and you shared smiles and compliments with your colleagues. Sighs of relief. You could all go home peacefully tonight.

Which you did. You sprinted to your car when the hour came, your colleagues’ laughter following you down the elevator. They all knew you were eager to be home again, to be with the fiancee you talked about too much. (You couldn’t help it. You loved Cove Holden too much, loved him since you were eight. What could you do?)

The drive went quickly and you arrived at your little place a bit further from the city in record time. When you parked in your spot, next to Cove’s car who was already there and home, you realized you had forgotten to send him a text. You bit your lip, hoping he hadn’t waited for it.

Five unread texts with Cove inquiring about the presentation, worried. Shit.

You climbed the stairs of the apartment complex quickly, your keys already in hand. You entered.

”I’m home! Sorry, I completely forgot to answer your texts, I’m so so...” You interrupted yourself by the sight of your living room, your coffee table with a range of plates and food, and even a cake.

Hands sneaked around your waist, a kiss on your hair, a chest against your back. Your fiancee enveloped you, mint, citrus and this particular ocean smell in your nose and you finally relaxed. “Hi sweetheart, how was it?” he asked gently.

You turned around in his arms and, as always, you had to crane your neck to look up into his eyes. You hadn't been fortunate with height while Cove had had too much of it over the years. His arms circled your waist. “Went smoothly, we can finally breathe now,” you answered and got on your tiptoes to kiss him quickly, which he answered with that giddy smile he never lost around you. “Now, what’s all of this, Covie?”

”Well, I knew it would go perfectly since it’s you,” you rolled your eyes at the remark but the smile betrayed you, the blush even more. “and wanted to celebrate it. I got your favorite things from your favorite places and got a cake.”

Cove looked like it wasn’t even an effort, and it wasn’t in your relationship. You both made so much effort, so much again and again for each other that it was just normal. But, it didn't change the fact that you were always touched by every gesture.

You still couldn’t phantom how dear you were to this man sometimes. You still couldn’t understand how your heart never seemed to stop expanding for him, taking in every piece, every detail, every word and action from him.

Your hands dragged his face to you, to kiss him deeply, like you had wanted to since you had finished the project. He sighed against your lips, that content sigh, his lips and tongue entangled with yours. An intimacy you could never get enough of.

”I love you so much,” you whispered against his lips and his eyes misted over, your crybaby, always yours.

”I love you too,” he whispered as if he didn’t want to break the calm of the moment, wanted to stay in this moment suspended in time.

Until you dragged him to the couch to drape yourself over him, eating and barely paying attention to whatever was on the TV as background noise. You talked about the project. He talked about his day and his own job.

When you finished, he pushed you to the bathroom. “Go take a bath, relax, I got the dishes,” Cove reassured and you pouted.

”But, I can help, I didn’t get dinner so it should be me,” you whined in his shoulder and he laughed while pushing in the bathroom while you couldn’t do anything.

”No way. Go, now,” he kissed your cheek and you still pouted as you got into the bathroom.

You did well on what he had told you to do, spending too much time in a hot bath until it got cold, your body wrapped in your comfortable fuzzy robe. You finally stepped out to get to the bedroom, itching to put your pajamas on, and fall asleep next to Cove.

The too-large shirt was in your hands, actually just one of Cove’s shirts you had stolen and never returned, as you did since you were teenagers, even before you were officially truly together. You hadn’t realized why the light was so dim, hadn't realized Cove was on the bed.

You turned your head slowly and you felt your knees wobble, felt your eyes widen until they almost popped out of your skull.

You had seen Cove in all types of clothes and nakedness over the years. You knew him and his body by heart, the moles, the sleeve on his right arm that you loved to kiss all over, the dips, and where the redness would creep. But right now? You were speechless.

Cove fucking Holden was sat against the headboard, half-lidded eyes on you, but you could see the blush high on his face and ears and down his neck. He was naked, well, except for the underwear but it was the underwear that made you want to scream.

It was black but it barely hid anything, the green happy trail visible from that delicious V-shape you liked to bite, down a dangerous low dip. Straps followed his hips and they showed his hipbones. You almost wanted to ask him to get up and show the back, to see how it looked over that ass you loved too much.

”Surprise,” he simply said, wanting to sound sultry but ending up at excited, embarrassed, waiting.

The shirt slipped through your fingers, forgotten on the floor, and you were still speechless. “What...are you...” you swallowed hard, heat at the back of your neck, on your ears.

Large shoulders were shrugged and he tilted his head, “I… we talked about how I wanted to try some...lingerie out and I thought it would be a good idea for a celebration.”

He was still waiting and you could see how waiting affected him, the redness ever more present on his face and down his neck, the quick jostle of his knee. You approached the bed slowly, eyes laser-focused on him.

You could feel a restraint slowly unfurling in your gut, a wait. You had missed Cove and his hands on you, you had missed the everyday intimacy but you had also missed the sexual intimacy you shared. You both couldn’t have enough of each other sometimes, a pull between your hearts and your bodies.

Your hands settled on the edge of the bed, and you crawled slowly to him, putting up a show for his eyes and his eyes only. The robe dipped down and he gulped, his eyes on your cleavage, on your bare chest visible underneath. You smirked, finding a place between his legs, hands on his thighs, so so close to the dangerous piece of underwear that threatened your composure.

”So, you decided to gift my eyes with this, baby?” you whispered, a finger playing with a strap at his hip. “You’re way too good for me.”

Cove gulped again and you wanted to bite at his Adam’s apple, leaving marks on his pale skin until everybody would know. He shook his head.

”What? You don't agree that you’re too good for me?” you asked, a little pout at the words, your eyes on his face. You were playing the game of how sultry you could be, how much you could push it until his own restraints broke. “Maybe I should show you.”

Your hands traced the straps and the edges of the underwear. Your mouth found a nipple as your hands traced but never touched where you could feel a hardness growing and growing. His moans hit your ears and you smiled, your tongue playing from one nipple to another.

”You don't have to...” he tried to say, his moans high, and god, did you love how vocal he could be. He was always so vocal, so good.

”I want to, so be a good boy, baby,” you whispered, bit at the side of his chest, so muscular, so pretty. He moaned higher, hips bucking against your chest. Your mouth traveled down and down, following the green trail of hair. “Driving me crazy with this, Covie.”

Your hands caressed the hardness over the fabric, but your mouth found the tip already out with how hard he was. The dip was so low that the tip was the only thing visible, so your tongue swirled around it, the saltiness hitting your tastebuds. You moaned, fingers at the straps.

”Oh my god," Cove whined loudly, hips bucking again, the tip making its way deeper into your mouth. “Shit, sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean to...”

You shook your head and pulled at the straps downward, until the underwear sat underneath his cock and you pushed more and more into your mouth, desperate for more, to make him feel even better.

”Fuck, fuck, fuck," you heard him repeat and you wanted to smile, to tease him like you always did because he only ever cursed in those moments, so gone, so desperate.

More and more, until you felt tears in your eyes, until you breathed through your nose, hands at what you couldn’t fit down your throat because of how big he was. But you loved it, thighs clenching to relieve the ache that formed in between.

It wasn’t about you, even though you could spend hours between his legs, to look at his head thrown back, his eyes closed and face scrunched up, like now. He looked out of this world, long hair around his head, down his shoulders, redness still at his face, sweat down his neck and on his chest. You couldn’t believe he was yours still.

”Shit, sweetheart, I’m gonna… I’m...” Cove’s voice rang out and you felt how tight his balls were getting, see how his abs tightened. He was close, and a part of you wanted him to cum in your mouth, but you had another plan.

You popped off his hardness with a loud pop, saliva around your mouth, and his head rose up, his eyes opened in question. You crawled back up his body, your hands opening your robe, until you could throw it on the floor beside the large bed. You settled on his lap, hands on his shoulders.

You swatted his hands away before they could fall on your hips, and you saw the small pout on his face that you kissed away with a laugh. “Sorry, no touching baby, be good a bit longer for me,” you kissed along his face, nibbled at his neck, leaving a few hickeys as your hips moved, your wetness rubbing on his cock.

Cove whined still against your shoulder, “But you look so good… And you’re so wet,” he moaned, groaned. “Let me touch you, please,” he begged but you shook your head, your hips rising up to catch the tip at the edge of your wetness, of your warmth.

You slowly sunk down, your own moan unable to stay in your throat at the delicious burn his cock always gave you, that fullness that always took your breath away. You hummed as you sank lower and lower.

His eyes were closed tightly, his body trembled when you finished back on his lap, the length fully inside you. You stayed still, enjoying the moment, and his hands stayed beside his hips, beside the underwear that was still underneath his cock, trapping his legs in place. He was taut, all muscles tight and restrained.

”Please, please, move," Cove begged and you could only answer with your hips moving up and slamming back down.

Your moans intertwined with Cove’s, as you rode him, slowly, building a faster rhythm with every breath, every moan. You rode him, a deep pleasure building in your stomach, pleasure built with his moans in your ear, your teeth at his shoulder.

You rode him until your thighs trembled and his hips, so restrained until now, slammed up in response. You almost screamed his name. It had hit that one spot deep inside and your body had fallen down onto his chest.

All restraint broke in his body, his hands at your hips, so tight you knew you would feel them still tomorrow, “Sorry, I can’t...” he breathed out, before his hips slammed up again and again, his hands guiding your hips down every time.

“Fuck, Cove, Cove,” you repeated his name, your forehead on his shoulder, your eyes on the spot that joined your two bodies together, his cock sliding in and out.

His name on your lips broke him again and you lost all control you had on the situation. His hands manhandled you on your back, almost ripped the underwear that had started it all off his legs, and he had your legs folded against his chest before he slid back in.

The breath was knocked out of your chest, your hands tugged at his hair, and your eyes were on him always. The muscles bulging with every movement, the sweat trickling down, the pure ferocity and desperation on his face.

Cove wasn't always pushed to this side of dominance, if not ever. Not to this degree. You both liked to switch, to play with what were the limits and new things, but falling back into lovemaking most of the time. Here, your gentle sweet Cove was gone, to leave a rougher Cove you loved too, your moans encouraging him.

”Don’t stop, Cove, don’t stop," you begged, hands desperate in his hair, hips moving to answer every thrust deep inside, against the spot. You could barely talk and he could only groan and moan, his own mouth busy on your nipples, back arched.

You were getting closer and closer, and he could feel it, the way you arched more and more, the way you were tighter and tighter around him, the way your moans only got louder. His eyes were on your face, a hand moving down from your hip to the nub of nerves, so wet from everything.

Your head tilted back into the pillow, “Cove, I’m… I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, warned and he hummed in response, his thumb insistent on your clit, in time with every thrust. Your back arched even more, the pleasure exploding in your stomach, behind your eyes, and in your whole body until you were left a trembling thing underneath Cove.

His thrusts slowed down, but your hips moved and you shook your head. “No, don't stop, need you to cum,” you croaked out, voice spent, hands still tugging at his hair.

”I don’t want to hurt you,” Cove moaned over you, eyes half-lidded on your face, but you shook your head again. You tugged him closer, forehead against his.

”You can’t hurt me. Please Cove, I love you, please,” you begged, his thrusts were erratic and you could tell he was close.

”I love you, fuck, I love you so much, I love you," he repeated against your cheek, and you hummed, answered back, until he moaned louder.

Until the final thrust, until he came deep inside you with your name on his lips and you kissed his face.

Cove detangled himself from you only to bring back a wet washcloth, to wipe you and himself. You only got up to go the toilets, fast and impatient, to find him back in bed, under the covers.

You cuddled in his arms, your cheek on his shoulder, legs entangled to look at him. Content, beautiful. It was magical, as always, to go to sleep with him every night, to have him be the last thing you always saw at night.

”Well, that was a nice surprise," you giggled and he smiled lazily. “I’ll be the one to surprise you next time.”

He groaned lightly but laughed, forehead hitting yours gently. “If you want me to really die, sure,” and you could only laugh, his lips on your eyelids, yours reaching up to kiss his eyebrows. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

You hummed, “I love you, Covie.”

His smile grew larger, and his cheeks turned red as always, “I love you too.”

And you fell asleep, safe, happy, home, where you belonged.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Javi’s Playground✨

A/N: Ahhh I’ve been wanting to write a Javi one shot for a while, and I finally got the inspiration after listening to “Sex & Candy” by Marcy Playground. Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for helping me come up with a name and beta read so I didn’t chicken out and not post 😘 This is my first time writing Javi, so I’d like as much feedback as I can get 🥰 I tried my best with the Spanish translations.

Summary: Javi decides to blow off some steam at the strip club, but he doesn’t intend to attempt to take one of the dancers home with him.

Pairing: Javier Pena x fem! reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Tags: smut, flirting, Javi goes to a strip club, alcohol, smoking, unprotected p in v, oral, Narcos era, reader is a stripper, reader has long hair, switching POVs, some Spanish (translations at bottom of doc)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The glow of the amber lights swirl above his head as a crystal disco ball spins slowly, throwing its sparkly essence into the crowded strip club. This isn’t his normal place, Paradise Cove. It’s only a distraction, a secret alcove to let go of any thoughts of drug lords, innocent bloodshed, Pablo Escobar, or any traces of misery he’s been holding on to over the past treacherous year. This was a place for forgetting, relaxing the mind, indulging in mere fantasies he could only wish to grasp his torn hands around. So he’d drink, smoke, and indulge in beautiful women in peace on this lonely Friday evening. 

   The red walls are smeared with flecks of sparkles, and the atmosphere is bursting with energy and dim lighting. The cool glass of amber whiskey sits in his hand as he gulps down another swig, letting the burn coat his insides as he flicks the small lighter and lights up another Marlboro cigarette. He lets the smoke surround him, fogging his vision as he inhales the nicotine and lets it sit there dwindling around him in a blur. Just for a couple of seconds, just enough to take the edge off of his growing migraine. 

   He throws his head back and exhales, blowing the smoke out as the music changes over to a tune he knows. “Sex & Candy” by Marcy Playground starts to play from the blaring speakers, the song slowly slipping through his ears as he sits up just a little straighter in the black leather chair. 

   The crowd hollers when the next girl takes the stage, low whistles reverberating off the side mahogany tables as the volume of the music picks up. He doesn’t realize what they’re all making a fuss about until he looks up and sees you. The most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. Esplendida. 

   You’re so radiant, the way you strut across the stage in your crystal clear stiletto high heels as you spin in slow motion, running your fingers through your thick, long curls as you look over your shoulder and flirt with the crowd. Your legs are so long, the curve of your thighs begging to be touched as you sway your hips side to side and get lost in the song.

   And then there she was, in platform double suede. Yeah, there she was. Like disco lemonade.

   He can’t help but grip the damp glass in his hands a little too tight as he spreads his legs wide and relaxes into the plush leather, his eyes glued to you as you slide down the pole gracefully. He wets his lips as his tongue glides across his bottom lip, his cigarette burning his flared nostrils as he oogles the way you please the crowd with every single move you make across the reflective stage. 

   He watches the way you push the swell of your breasts up with your delicate hands, eyes the tiny black lingerie set that barely covers your porcelain skin, assesses the way the lacy thong skims across the curve of your hips, and nearly drowns on his sip of bubbling whiskey as you bend down and show off the thick globes of your ass. 

   Javi sets the half empty glass of alcohol down beside him on the little sturdy table and grabs his denim clad knee as he sinks his nails into the fabric, trying to hold himself together as he listens to the track play through the massive club, watching the way you keep turning and finding his searing gaze. 

   I smell sex and candy here. Who’s that lounging in my chair? Who’s that casting devious stares in my direction? Mama, this surely is a dream. 

   His brown eyes blow wide every time you turn and wink his way, casually flirting as you flip your hair and bite your lower lip, sending him spiraling as he feels the blood rush to his cock in his tight jeans, feeling just how hard he is now as his thick cock presses into the metal of the zipper. It’s like you know what you’re doing, sparkling eyes penetrating his gaze as you flirtatiously bat your long mascara coated eyelashes and eye fuck him from the glowing stage, making sure he’s getting exactly what he came her for. To feel good, to indulge in his fantasies, to make him think you want him. But customers don’t get to take strippers home. That’s not how this business works, not how it’s supposed to run, unless… 

   You slide slowly down the metal pole, ending up on the floor of the lit up stage as you spread your legs wide and tease him just a little as you play with the straps of your panties and press your heels into the floor, giving him a view that just about takes him out. He leans his elbows against his knees, rakes a hand through his thick mustache as he groans into the palm of his hand while sweat sticks to his tanned forehead. 

   He loves the view that’s on display, loves the outline of your pussy as he swears he can see wetness pooling there in between your legs while you sit there and tease him with the biggest smirk on your face he’s ever seen in his life. Those red, plump lips, those glistening thighs that deserve to be kissed, that pulsing core that begs to be lapped up. He can see it now, you splayed out on his bed while he fucks you deep, bottoming out as you scream his name, claw at his tanned skin as you beg for more. He’d take care of you. God he would. And fuck does he want to. Desesperadamente. 

   He can feel the precum sliding against his thick length, can feel just how badly he wants to palm himself through his tight denim as he watches you fall apart on the stage before him. At this point he has no restraint, can barely sit here and watch as you start to crawl on your hands and knees toward him, hypnotizing eyes that lock on his as he leans forward and unfastens the black tie that clings to his button-up white collared shirt. 

   His eyebrows furrow, lips parting unbelievably as you curl your finger and beckon him to come to the side of the stage, your gaze flicking over his figure as he prays you don’t see the erection that’s begging for some kind of release that’d involve hands, or maybe a mouth, a warm tongue…

   He takes another drag of the sweet nicotine and pushes himself out of the leather chair, slowly trudging up to you as he lets his eyes trail generously over your perfect body. When he finally makes it over to the end of the glossy stage, he sees just how beautiful your eyes really are, eyes that were just eye fucking him seconds ago, eyes he’d love to gaze into while he cants his hips against yours roughly. Eyes he could lost in, swim in.

   You smirk his way, letting your hands run through your tousled curls as you flutter thick eyelashes up at him. He digs into the pit of his denim pocket and pulls out a crisp twenty dollar bill as he cautiously slides it inside the lace of your push-up bra, his fingertips grazing the edge of one of your perky breasts as he groans in response. Your skin is so soft, he thinks what you have underneath the lace will be even softer, divine, delicious. 

   You bite your bottom lip flirtatiously and play with the end of his loose tie, letting the silk slip through your fingertips as he watches in a blissed out daze. You could’ve chosen anyone to target, could’ve had attention from any of the sleazy men in this nightclub, but you chose him. The one with the flecks of honey eyes, the one that couldn’t keep his eyes off you for one second, the handsome stranger who must’ve been new to this place. 

   “You new here?” you ask curiously as you eye his stance, watching the way his eyes seem to light with burning fire every time he even dares to look your way. 

   “Been here once or twice before, but this is the first time I’m seeing you, hermosa.” He lets his dark eyes slide down your body, a smirk curling across his plush lips as he leans in closer, until you can smell the tinge of nicotine lacing through his taste buds. “You sure look good up on that stage, amar. Prettiest thing I’ve seen in a city like San Francisco.”

   “Oh? You like what you see?” you blush as you hang your legs off the end of the stage, just enough to brush his thighs as you feel how strong they are. 

   “Oh, I like what I see alright. Jodidamente perfecta.”

   You feel your cheeks burn bright red, feel your thighs clench up as you see how thick his fingers are, how dark and ravenous his eyes look, how hard he is underneath the fabric of his tight jeans. You don’t ever get this wound up about customers, but something about well dressed, smoldering men makes you want to lose all dignity and throw yourself at him. He must be so good in bed. With the way he’s staring at you, all hot and bothered, he may as well just carry you out of this club. Even if it’s technically against the rules. 

   “What’s your name, handsome?” you ask as you brush your heels against the side of his ankles and watch him tense up under your touch. 

   “Javier. Just call me Javi for short, though. And yours, hermosa?” You tell him your name, your real name, not your stripper name, even if that’s against the rules, too. You clearly don’t care about any fucking rules at this point. 

   “Ahh, that’s a gorgeous name. Telling me your real name, yeah? Aren’t you a little rule breaker,” he teases as he cocks up a thick eyebrow and slides his thumb over his lips as he brushes against his thick mustache. You wonder what it’d feel like with his mouth covering your core, his mustache brushing over your swollen clit as he licks and licks until you come apart on his large tongue. 

   You pull yourself out of ridiculous wet fantasies and watch the smoke fall off his tongue. “I live to break rules,” you tease as you pull him closer, catching the end of his black tie as he’s so close now that you can see the embers of brown flecks scatter across his dark eyes. He’s so handsome, you think you want to go home with him. 

   “That right, hermosa?” he asks as he takes another long drag of his cigarette and blows the smoke away from your face as that smug smirk still encases his playful teasing. 

   “That’s right,” you giggle as you gently curl your fingers over the wrist that holds the burning cigarette. 

   He watches you carefully, eyes full of trouble as he puffs out a breath and fills your nostrils with the stench of whiskey and nicotine. “What do you say, hermosa? Wanna take a tour of my bedroom tonight?”

   You carefully snag his lit cigarette from his outstretched hand and slide it in between your crimson lips, taking a slow drag of the cigarette as he watches you with dark, wide eyes and parted lips that shine with the gleam of amber colored whiskey. You gently blow out the smoke in his face and lean forward as you wrap your manicured fingers around his loosened tie. “You can give me money, yes, but what else? I have plenty of money. What is it that you want, handsome?”

   He grabs the cigarette from your open hand and takes a whiff of the nicotine, letting it blow right back into your face as you smell whiskey, smoke, and trouble fill your lungs.

   “Te deseo…” He says it slowly, meticulously like it’s the most sensual thing he’s ever said to a woman before. You don’t know what it means, but it damn sure sounds like you need to say yes. 

   Your eyebrows raise as you smile wide his way. “I don’t speak Spanish, handsome. But I think I want to say yes. Wanna indulge me in what exactly it is you want?”

   He takes another slow drag of his cigarette as he smirks your way. “I want you, hermosa. In my bed, underneath my body, so I can fuck you fast and hard. Wanna rip off that lace and devour your sweet pussy until I have you coming apart on my tongue. Wanna make love to the beauty that stole my heart away tonight.”

   Your breath hitches as you gasp out of breath, not realizing you clutched onto his leather belt and clenched your sticky thighs together as slick pools warmly in your lace. You should’ve known he was a handsome menace the first moment you saw him sitting there with his glass of cold whiskey and lit up cigarette. You should’ve fucking guessed. 

   His body is now too close to yours, chest pressed against yours as you stand shakily off the stage and feel just how bad he wants you through the fabric of his tight jeans. You can see that way his dark eyes flick over yours, feel the heavy breaths coming from his broad chest, smell the stench of trouble and nicotine lacing around your wrists as he slowly grabs a strand of hair and whispers your name into the shell of your ear. 

   It’s almost too much, almost enough to get you fired right on the spot until the music suddenly changes to a Rhianna song, signaling it was time for the next dancer to come out. You abruptly pull away from him as you feel the tension sit thick in the air, almost like a fog takes over and you can’t see anything clearly anymore. 

   It’s your time to go, to mingle with other clients, and he knows that, you can see it in the understanding of those big chocolate eyes that stare adamantly at you. You give him a flirtatious wave and brush up against his large arm as you whisper up to him, “I get off in an hour. Meet me in the back.”

   He watches you saunter off, half smiling as he realizes he got the girl. He never misses, almost never gets turned down, but this one he might want to see again. He can already tell he’ll want you to stick around, maybe even make you his. Maybe he won’t have to walk this lonely, overbearing life alone anymore. Maybe…. just maybe you’ll stay. Maybe he’ll let you stay. Maybe for a night, a month, a year, forever. 

   The smell of sweat covered bodies, vanilla scents of sensual movements and whiskey clad tongues fill the room as you move at a slow, passionate pace. His meaty hands and smooth tongue are everywhere, sliding down your neck, pulling your pebbled nipples into his warm mouth, and lapping thoroughly at the slick between your sticky thighs. 

   Your moans come in sync. Elated, deafening, ravenous every time he licks a thick stripe over your dripping core. He groans each time you rake your fingers through his mess of dark locks, your pleasurable moans filling the room every time he pulls your puffy clit into his mouth as his thick fingers curl up into the spongy walls that make you see blinding stars in your vision. He doesn’t stop even after the first time you come for him, spilling all your pent up slick as he laps up every single drop between your thighs. 

   He pulls out another mind blowing orgasm with his experienced tongue alone, and he doesn’t even give you a minute to breathe before he’s splitting you in two with the slick cock that fills you to the brim, bottoming out in you time and time again until you feel him everywhere in your system, like the nicotine and whiskey that fill his lungs night after lonely night. He licks into your mouth, his smooth tongue dancing along with yours until you can’t taste anything but the tang of neat whiskey and toxic nicotine that bleed into your bloodstream, tasting like sweet addiction and danger, a lover in disguise. 

   You’re already close again, almost spilling yourself around his thick cock as he bends your knees back and folds you like an acrobatic so you can feel him deep, rough every single time he snaps his hips against yours and buries his face into your neck with furrowed eyebrows as he sucks and bites against the base of your neck. 

   “Come for me again, hermosa. There you go, such a good fucking girl. Let me feel you again. Squeezing so tight around my fucking cock,” he growls as he guides his thumb down to your clit and starts to circle nice and slow, the pressure building in your spine as you start to let go. 

   “Javi,” you moan as you scratch your long nails down his bare back, clawing at his tanned skin every time he guides his slick cocks inside you, reaching that spongy spot that makes you plead and moan with every thrust of his hips. 

   “Attagirl, hermosa. Tan encantadora,” he pants as sweat covers his glistening forehead. Once, twice, three more tight circles on your bundle of nerves and you’re squeezing his cock, spilling yourself all over him as you moan loudly into his ear as he comes seconds after, throwing his head back as he groans with pleasure as thick ropes of white come paint your insides. 

   He topples over next to you in the damp, twisted sheets and pulls you against his broad chest while his free hand lights a cigarette up while he gets lost in the thick cloud of nicotine and musty sex. While he sucks on the addictive stick of nicotine, his dark eyes wade over you as his lips graze warmly over your sweat covered forehead. 

   “Did so good for me, hermosa. You wanna stay the night? I can get you all cleaned up in the morning, and we can go for breakfast. Maybe eat you out on the kitchen counter while I make you coffee. What do you say, hermosa?”

   You shift closer against his side, sliding your fingers over his glistening chest as his deep breaths fill the void in the spacious room. You flick your eyes up to him and study him, watching the way he inhales smoke and stares warmly down your way, like he’s in a lucid dream just watching the girl of his dreams. “You mean like… you want to keep seeing me? This wasn’t a one time thing?”

   His jaw goes slack as his lips parts open, putting the burning cigarette out on the pale blue ash tray on the edge of his mahogany nightstand. “That’s right, hermosa. A sweet, beautiful, gorgeous girl like you deserves more, and I want to give you that. If you’ll let me.”

   You take in his offer, your fingers threading through his as you crawl over him and graze your swollen red lips against his. “Okay then, Javi. Show me your world.”

   He cups the back of your neck and brings you down to his lips as he slots his tongue between your lipstick smeared lips, pulling you deep into him as you taste every shade of red he can paint you, coating you in desire you’ve only ever dreamed of. 

   He tasted like sex and candy, and you were just getting started. 

If you enjoyed this fic, please consider reblogging or commenting or leaving me asks 🩷

Spanish Translations:

Hermosa - beautiful

Esplendida - gorgeous

desesperadamente - desperately

jodidamente perfecta - fucking perfect

Tan Encantadora - so lovely

Tags: @keylimebeag @sawymredfox @littlevenicebitch69 @milla-frenchy @aurorawritestoescape

@vivian-pascal @msjarvis @amyispxnk @jasminedragoon @burntheedges

@akah565 @princesatracionera @rav3n-pascal22 @604to647 @pedrostories

@syd-djarin @tuquoquebrute @r3dheadedwitch

[kellynickelsgirl00]

A Chibs "Filip" Telford and OC Plus Size Reader Fanfic

Taglist: @youngadult9016 @tommyflanaganfan-blog @ravennaortiz @privatetruths @etclouie @theoutsiders25

Chapter 2: Knowing Louise

It's been a month since I moved in and I finally got everything unpacked and finished decorating my room. Chibs and me have been talking alot the whole month and hes been really sweet and a quite neighbor despite the tendencies of the clubhouse. I haven't had a minute to relax so tonight being a week night the chances of relaxing are good before the Friday night fight and party, I go through my closet and pick up a big baggy band shirt and some plaid shorts and turn on the water to the shower getting undressed as I wait for it to warm up and tuen on some music humming softly as I think. It's to quite next door so chibs must be out with jax or something for himself or the club so I grab my toy and close the bathroom door slightly since I'm alone and finally step into the shower to relax and unwind.

Chibs POV:

Coming back with some groceries for the clubhouse and my room I Start unloading and putting everything walking to my room holding the beer I picked up for myself and decide to see if Louise would want to join me for a late night beer and talk like every other night *knocks...... knocks again* maybe she's asleep I think to myself and go to walk away and hear a noise a whimper ans a louder whimper and moan and I open the door alittle and peak in and knock jusf to be polite and check ans see the stream our of the shower pouring into the bedroom and I hear louder what I heard before and its clear she's fine. Closeinf the door as quixk as I can I take my beer and decide to jusr fo outside and smoke adjusting myself alittle wanting so bad to go back and peak in but I don't want to pull a Tig..

I sit outside on my bike smoking and drinking looking around at everything waiting till I'm sure it's clear to go in and not be distracted or hard still and lay back on my bike alittle and start just thinking about Louise she's been so much fun she's like one of the guys but also she's different when the guys aren't around, we've been talking alot at nigjt having a beer or two in my room or the clubhouse couch before going off to bed I don't know alot abour her but I feel like I've known her even though she is very quite and still mysterious .. I snap out of my thoughts seeing her come our of the clubhouse toweling off her hair and smiling at me" I thought you were our for the night I was gonna come our here and sit on the swings " she giggles alittle and stands next to the bike . She smells of rose and vanilla and cherry she alwsus smells so good like roses and cherry most and I hum and sigh" nah just came our here for fresh air after a beer run" I hand her a beer " you wanna talk tonight or are you busy " I smile and sit up snd swing my leg over yje bike standinf next to her " we can sit out here and talk ya know change of scenery" I chuckle anf check yhe time and it's 11pm " unless you have to get to sleep it's pretty late I know you gotta work" I smile lighting a cigarette blowing the smoke up as I look her up and down unknowingly " eyes up telford or I'll smack you around like Tiggy if your eyes get to wild " she jokes and pushes my shoulder playfully " she's not even dressed up in her normal every day clothes and no make up ans she's gorgeous she's perfect , I think to myself snd chuckle " hey I'm nothing like that strange man I've just never seen you in sleepy clothes " I joke qnf grab the beer starting to walk to the swings " nah come inside I wanna watch a movie since you are here chibsy " she smiles and grabs my hand and holds it so soft and gentle and all I can do I follow her like a lost dog and look at her how her hair bounces and the smell of her hair as the wind blows .

Getting to her room she smiles and opens the door " welcome to Louise's plaxce" she giggles " since I'm alwsys in your room I'll show you around " she jokes " heres the bed that's the room" she laughs so loud snd I feel my heart beating faster and clear my throat trying not to look like a lost in love puppy ans more like the biker tough and rugged she knows and I look around as she starts setting up the movie and see all kinda of band posters and music stuff and Harley stuff qnd I go over to the other side and see a picture of her and realize what it is" you've been arrested why do you have your mug shot up" I chuckle and take it down looking at ir " maybe we should put this with the guys " I joke and act like I'm walking to the clubhouse wall and she runs over " no no I'd rather not get interrogated again" she laughs " I have a temper it's no big deal I mean you have a mug shot to so ha " she sticks her tongue out and puts it back on the wall" well are you gonna tell me what happened or do you want me to think of some things " I rub my beard thinking " hmmm maybe you got arrested for being to pretty or something or maybe you slapped a guy like Tig" I laugh and sir on the bed" that's all my guesses " wait have you murdered someone is this how you do it you bring them yo a room and strike " I joke and gasp" oh my god m' next I'm your next victim " I tease and she rolls her eyes " are ya done "' she chuckles and smirks laying next to me and I try not to notice how close she is " I got arrested for speeding on my bike believe it or not I have my own Harley back in Missouri and I got it and the first night I let lose and just went 110 on the highway at 3am "' she smiles " the cop didn't like my argument of well I don't see anyone else our here so who am I hurting " she rolls her eyes " so the prick arrested me only after he gave me thw worst pat down and basically groped me " she shakes her head and my jaw clenches as I think of it " did you report him" I asked sounding more pissed then I mean to be" what no calm down Telford don't worry it's nothing it was just a hand it's fine don't worry I'm good " she smiles and kisses my cheek scooting under the covers next to me " ya know you can get under the covers right " she smiles ans I shake my head and hold my hands up' nah lass don't wanna give off the wrong impression plus if you gall asleep I don't wanna disturb you trying to get our of the covers " I lay next.to her ans sir up a bit looking down at her and smile " so what we watching cherry " I ask softly and lean in closer whispering " is this a sleepover because I don't do pillow fights or gossip or anything like that and no nail polish" I joke " it would ruin my reputation " I chuckle and she laughs " no irs a movie and a talk like normal except a movie too" she smiled " this is my favorite movie well one of them snd I wanna show it to you it's really good I think you would love it " she smiles turning it on and scoots closer grabbing another beer" oh I have snacks do you want snacks " she looks up so close I could kiss her ans I stare and jusr shake my head wanting so badly to kiss her and she giggles snapping me oht of it again" watch oknits on now " she sips her beer resting her hand near mine as our pinkies brush and I look out the corner of my eye as she watches so intently

2 hours later:

" so did you like it " she smiles and sniffs " sorry I didn't mean to cry it gets me every time though" shs giggles and smiles excited " it was a great movie you are alot like Penny Lane you have the same everything as her ya kno personality wise " I smile qnd sigh " what was that movie called " I asked takinf a sip of the last beer " it's called Almost famous it's my favorite ever " she smiles so big qnd giggles" wanna watch another one " she asks looking through her dvds " Lass I'm gonna get to bed aren't you gonna go to bed " I yawn and smile up at her sleepy " oh ok yea I can try " she sighs layinf back looking over at me and I rib her cheek" what's wrong why don't you wanna sleep what's up " I sit up alittle and hug her to me snuggling her and she sighs " nothing I just don't sleep alot I'd at all this whole time I've been here I've slept maybe 4 hours " she admits " I'm not much of a sleeper I have insomnia and I can't relax I mean I do everything I take sleeping pills and smoke weed and that relaxes me but I can still never sleep if I sleep it's like a miracle and I just every night no matter how awesome my day was or how shifty my head just won't shut up" she sighs and wraps her arks around me " it's not a big deal really you asked so I told you c shs shrugs qnd sighs " I thought you heard me up and cleaning I mean didn't you wonder why the clubhouse was actually clean" she laughs and keeps talking as I rub her back." Well no I just thought one of the prospects or something or Gemma " I laugh and talk to her a few more hours tryinf nor to fall asleep and I look down lost in a story I'm telling her and see her asleep and I sigh and smile sofflf civerinf her up and holding her tighter ad I yawn " sleep good beauiful " I whisper falling asleep holding her

Louise's POV:

I groan and stretch snugglint into the bed more and see the sun peaking in and groan more opening my eyes all the way seeing chibs next to me and look around and smile relaxing and quietly scooting closer wrapping my arms around him qnd starinf at him ad he snores soffly " well this is a good morning " I mumnle and smile so happy and kiss his scars so lightly and trace them jumping and scooting away as someone knocks on the door " Louise honey you ok " Gemma asks through the door and knocks again and you look at the clock jumping up" OH SHIT "I yell loudly getting out kf bed and tripping waking chibs up in as I fall ans he sits up and cocks his gun qnd you groab" it's me it's me I'm late I overslept " you talk so fast and panick trying to get dressed and he covers his eyes " wait wait hold on I'm still in here " he gets up and walks to the door and opens it to Gemma " shit " he mumbles and she smirks and shakes her head " well now I swe why you're late " she comes in as chibs leaves " no not what you think we watched a movie and had our late night talk and we fall asleep " I blush ans keep rushing " chill out you don't have to come into work I was mostly makinf sure you weren't sick or ya know a victim of Tiggy love" she laughs " besides I think you should shop for the clubhouse were having a club dinner Tomorrow and I'd like yoi to cook witb me here " she smiles and hands tou your truck keys " plus the cars all fixed " she smiles ans walks out " also if you did sleep with chibs I won't tell anyone " she winks " Gemma I did not ' I sigh and huff " stop " I laugh and blush and finish getting dressed.

Outfit below:

Walking out I see Chibs, Tig, Opie ans Jax" hey you guys need anything I'm going to the store for Gemma for the club party/dinner tomorrow ' I smile ans look doen at chibs putting my hand on his shoulder standing behind him and the guys smirk" mmm nothing maybe condoms since it's a party " Tig smirks and winks " how about no" I smile and wink back" find someone else to do whatever you do with them with " I laugh and chibs chuckles " Aye maybe some more beer and maybe some shortbread cookies " hs smiles and I smile back and nod" ok you got it " I smile and scratch genelf ad the back of his neck before walking away hearing tig whistle before a loud ow " thank you chibs" you giggle not having to turn around to know he smacked Tig in the head.

"Hey Gem anything specific I need to get or are we making whatever I want whatever you want " I ask as she works in the office" umm no get whatever you want youre the chef tomorrow I wanna try some of your cooking " she smiles looking up from the papers " no pressure jusf wanns see what you can do" she smiles ans I sigh " ya no pressure I'm just cooking for you and the 40 kids in the clubhouse " I joke and put on my sunnies and smole " I'll be baxk " I say and walk to the truck getting in anf driving away when I notice an ATF van and cars pull in not thinking much of it as I drive away to the store. Deciding what to make I get all the fixins for chicken cordon Bleu but youre gonna makw it less fancy and more biker friendly of course jusf bc also ita good but alot of shit to try and do. On the way out I grab All of the ingredients to also make a special treat and dessert.

Pulling back up to the garage and clubhouse I see ATF searching anf wrecking the clubhouse and garage and see chibs, juice, jax, tig and Bobby on the ground in handcuffs and I freak our andd get out parking the car slamming tje door marching up to the clubhouse and hear in the distance chibs calling my name but ignore it and get stopped at the front door by Sherrif Hale and I push his hand aqay" no what the fuck do you think you're doing I just moved in and you aren't fuckin searching anf destroying my fuckin room" I yell trying to push past him " thw fucck get off me you fuckin asshole you show me the fuckin warrant how do I know you aren't just doinf this shit because they're bikers " I yell and hale grabs my arm hard and walks me back to his car " get the fuck off me " I pull and pusssh and he puts me faxe down on the car " shut up keep your mouth shut one more word and I'm gonna put you in cuffs ans haul you off with your little biker buddies '' he chuckles and chibs yells at him" get yer hands off her she's got nothing to do with this " he shouts and I look back and chibs shakes his head " I tried to tell you to calm down" he looks at me and I huff " who the fuck cares he's just tryiny to show off like he doesn't have a shrimp for a dick" I laugh and hale shoved my face to the car and cuffs me pushing me down next to chibs and I chuckle ' seems I hit a nerve " I smirk at Hale" go fuck yourself " I wink and stahl comes put " well you must be the new girl looks like you fit right In witb your gang buddies" she smirks " yea why don't you buy me dinner next time before you fuck me ya cunt" you growl" and thwy aren't a gang rhis is a club " you smirk" you fuckin shrimp dick stroking his ego are ya ' I laugh and chuckle as they walk away ignoring me and I look over at chibs smirking and sighing " I got the cookies by the way" I smile " hope we can eat them tomorrow " I chuckle trying to get his grumpy faxe to smile ans he shakes his head and Tig chuckles and smirks " somebody's got a temper " he laughs " got some fire in you maybe sometime I'll see if the carpet matches the drapes " he winks and chibs looks over so quick " Shove it curly " he shouts and you giggle " in your dreams Tigger and only those dreams " I laugh " Hopefully the party stoll happens tomorrow I didn't shop for nothing " I think to myself snd huff not what I had in mind for a Thursday night...

Sorry This chapter toom so so long to get out Hopefully the next chapter doesn't take as long 🤣🤣💗💗♥️💕💕❤️❤️ also thank you @ravennaortiz for the help on what to do with the beginning of this 😊😊❤️💕💕💕

[chochuuya]

boy next door.

hanma shuji x fem!reader

disclaimers: hair down and glasses hanma is in mind, he calls you miss perfect, slow burn kinda, college/uni setting, mentions of weed & alcohol, you & him are of the same age, hanma shuji in general 🚬

note: please do read with precaution. more suitable for those 18+, even though the overall fic is fluff and this is a sfw blog (^^ゞ

word count: 2.2k [2262]

it’s been a few weeks since you’ve moved into a new neighbourhood, finally gaining independence and a new start in university.

the problem is, it’s anything but positive.

boom. boom. boom.

you swore that you could feel your windows pane rattle due to the loud music coming from next door.

trying to keep your cool, you found yourself in front of your new neighbour’s doorstep, apparently named hanma shuji. you shouldn’t have to be doing this. again. it’s 2 in the morning.

you knocked his door, hoping to get an answer or at least tell him to lower down his music.

there’s no response from within.

you knock a little louder and a second later, his front door swings open.

hanma, wearing only boxers, leans on the door’s frame, rubbing his eyes. his hair is disheveled and his voice is hoarse when he speaks to you.

“...what?”

unfazed by his appearance, you sighed before explaining yourself. “for the fifth time this week hanma, can you please lower down your volume? people are trying to sleep.”

he just stares at you, his brow furrowing. his gaze is... piercing and cold.

“look, i don’t really care about people trying to sleep. its friday; i have a party to throw.”

“at 2 am?” you didn’t even try to sneak a peek at his place. you would rather not.

hanma rolled his eyes.

“it's early; the majority aren’t here yet. but the ones that are here are having a good time.”

you stayed quiet, trying to process his words.

“fine, whatever. do whatever you please.”

he smirked, noticing your reaction and gives a mocking smirk.

“if you’re going to act like a grouch, go back to bed. it’s not like you’re invited anyway. i don’t like the look of you, miss perfect.”

“don’t like the way i look but calls me that.. what an idiot.” you mumbled to yourself and went back to your house, which is oh, so conveniently next to his.

he watched as you started to walk away.

“oh, you aren’t leaving already, are you? i thought you wanted to have a discussion with me.”

“what discussion? i only asked you to turn down your music, hanma.” you deadpanned. “good night.” you went back to the comfort of your own home.

he didn’t like that. the volume of the music increased again. the thumping and bass became even louder than before, probably just to annoy you.

you heard footsteps approaching your front door, and him knocking loudly. “hey, come out. i just wanted to talk.”

you opened the door a tiny bit as you glare at him irritated.

“what is it that you want now?”

“what i want?” he asked bitterly. “i want you to stop being such a goddamn prude.”

taken aback by that remark, you opened your door wider and your arms crossed.

“excuse me?”

hanma stepped forward, towering over you. his face was just inches away from yours, with your head tilted upward to look at him.

“i said, don’t be so uptight. just come to one of my parties already, you stick-in-the-mud.”

“i'd rather be sleeping.”

he was speechless and eyes widened as he looked down at you.

“you’re not serious, right? you’d rather be sleeping, rather than partying? it’s a friday night! everyone’s having fun, but you choose to be a loner instead?” his tone was dripping with sarcasm and he couldn’t help but sneer.

“yeah, so good night.” you closed your door once more and actually turned off the lights, trying to shoo him away.

“no wait, come ba—”

he tried opening your door, but it was locked.

“damn it...” he muttered to himself, before returning to his own home. the music continued to go on through the night.

the next two weeks went by without the hanma shuji hosting another party. the peace had been restored, and you started to relax...

..that is, until the following tuesday.

you woke up at the ungodly hour of 4 in the morning, the loud roaring music of another party disturbing your sleep. you covered your ears in annoyance and got up to investigate.

you knocked on his door.

there he is.. just in boxers, opening his door again. his hair was wild but still somehow looked good on him. he yawned and his voice sounded raspy.

“what do you want? it’s 4am.” he stared at you sleepily, a small smirk forming on his lips as he remembered your previous encounter.

you eyed him sharply, annoyed. “how did you even sleep with music that loud?! turn it down, hanma.”

the music started again, now slightly quieter. he turned to you and once again, he did not hold back his words as they came out sharp.

“what, didn’t your parents ever teach you to mind your own business? stay in your lane, miss perfect. nobody asked you to butt into my matters and my lifestyle.”

he pushed his hair away from his face and rolled his eyes, as if your request was the dumbest thing he’d ever heard.

oh, you hoped he finds his brain back there with the amount of times he have been rolling his eyes every time you both talk.

“when your loud ass music comes to my range of hearing, it is already my business hanma. you're going to be the death of me one day.”

before you could make it back into your house, he walked up next to you, looking down at you once again.

“awww, that’s cute of you to assume that i’d ever let my music be the death of you.” his voice was cold and sarcastic, but the way he said it... sent chills down your spine.

“night's still young, and my party’s just getting going. do you mind if you... join in?”

“yes i would mind.”

typical hanma looked you up and down for a good few seconds, as if trying to decide whether or not he should keep pestering you. his gaze was sharp, and almost unsettling. and to your surprise, he actually chuckled at you.

“oh come on! i’m not letting you off that easily. i want to see you let loose for one night. you need a break from that uptight and workaholic personality you’ve got going on.”

“i don’t see the point of having parties at 4 in the morning.”

he chuckled again.

“because it’s a party, (y/n). you don’t see the point? well, let me show you then. come join us.” he took your arm and held it, waiting for a response from you.

“fine but i won’t stay long.” you reluctantly followed him into his place.

“us?” you thought to yourself.

almost immediately, the strong smell of cigarette and people almost knocked you out. your eyes dart everywhere at the crowd and felt out of place.

as soon as you walk in, you notice a few people standing against various walls in the living room. there’s also people dancing and sitting on the couch, chatting away. the smell of the devil’s lettuce is overwhelming, and it feels strange to see this side of your neighbourhood.

hanma led you to the couch where he sat, looking at you and grinning. “sit with me!” he gestured to the couch.

“make yourself at home.”

you had to cover your nose and mouth with a hand or else you would start to cough like a kid. you sit next to him anyway, since it is probably the safest.

hanma laughed at your reaction, not even bothering trying to mask his smirk.

“don’t be so dramatic, (y/n). it’s just pot!” he chuckled. “here.”

he handed you what appeared to be a.. cancer stick in your eyes.

“oh no, thank you.” you declined his offer, shaking your head.

he chuckled again — he was probably quite entertained by your reactions tonight.

“oh, come on. live a little!” he raised the joint near your face, almost forcing you to take it.

“i’m leaving if you push it any further.” you deadpanned.

he narrowed his eyes, but eventually let out a sigh.

“fiiiine, you have no fun.” he said mockingly. he took a huge hit from his cig and then exhaled the smoke slowly, before grinning at you.

“how about... just have a sip of my beer, then?you can’t be that picky when it comes to alcohol, miss perfect.”

you may not be much of a drinker but you can handle it. you hesitantly took the beer from his hand— force of habit, you wiped the opening with your hoodie before taking a sip.

“there.” you gave it back to him.

he giggled and stared at you with his arms crossed. his gaze was almost piercing. he didn’t say anything for a moment, probably waiting to tease you more.

“how old are you, again, (y/n)?”

“you don’t ask a lady that, hanma.”

he laughed. “oh, shut up. that’s a pathetic response. you’re in college, right? then just tell me your age already. you’re obviously not a little girl, so just tell me and drop the act for a second.”

you were getting irritated by the minute and feeling humid too from the crowd.

“you first.”

he smirked at your response. “fine, i'm __. now your turn, miss prude.”

you swear he just knows how to annoy you every time. you rolled your eyes.

“same age then, jerk.”

“well, well. same age, huh? that’s funny, i’d think you were way older since you act like, i don’t know... a grandma?” he laughed at his own joke as he took a sip out of his drink.

the night, or should i say morning.. dragged on until you managed to escape from his party. you took the opportunity to sleep until the actual morning.

you woke up feeling fresh and did your usual routine before throwing away your trash.

you made your way to the outside bins and that’s when you notice hanma was standing next to you. he stared at you with his piercing eyes, no surprise there.

“you know, the more that i see you around, the more annoyed i get. you’re a walking headache, (y/n).” he had an annoying smirk on his face once again — his way of trying to wind you up.

“good morning to you too, i guess.” you said nonchalantly as you threw away the trash.

hanma didn’t reply to you right away, just watched you throw away your trash without a word. you noticed that he seemed... distracted, his gaze wandering from you, to something or someone else.

something was annoying him.

“you just woke up, yet you look better than i do.” he said, his voice low. even for hanma, it was an unusual comment, as if he was trying to... compliment you?

you raised an eyebrow. “..thank you?”

you would give a more.. sassy reply like he should cut down on the damn cigs and alcohol but maybe next time.

he chuckled softly and leaned up against the wall. “no problem. i’m just saying you look good.”

he stared at you for a good few seconds, then finally spoke up again.

“do you have anything planned right now?”

“not really but—”

“you want to grab a cup of coffee with me?” he asked bluntly. he waited for a response. of course, he had a smirk on his face again, as if he was expecting you to refuse and then for him to say something smart or sarcastic in response.

you couldn’t believe your own ears and looked at him as if he transformed into a different person.

“i’m sorry, what?”

he shrugged, his tone slightly softer.

“i’m asking you out for coffee.” he looked at you as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “i’d like to get to know you.”

“uh.. sure, coffee it is.” you were still slightly surprised though but he asked nicely.

hanma nodded to you and if you were quick and had looked closely, he smiled to the ground. his eyes seemed less sharp than before.

“good. let’s go now.” he then offered you a hand to hold, waiting for you to accept.

“and stop acting so surprised. i’m not such a bad person, you know.”

“well, you are annoying.” you took your hand in his anyway.

he nodded in agreement, chuckling to himself. he was actually quite surprised that you accepted his offer so quickly.

both of you went and walked off together to a nearby coffee shop.

“do you have a boyfriend, or anything?” he asked out of nowhere.

that caught you off guard and almost made you choke on your own spit. you looked up to him in disbelief.

“right off the bat??”

he shrugged as he walked beside you.

“i’ve never liked beating around the bush, it pisses me off. besides, that way, i know if i have any chance of getting to know you more without stepping on some other guy or chick's toes.”

he was completely unbothered by your reaction to his question. in fact, he didn’t seem to care.

“what’s the big deal with that question?” he smirked. “answer the question, (y/n).”

“no, i don’t have one hanma.”

“i’m.. actually surprised. so, i have a chance huh?”

you scoffed. you knew that he was just trying to gouge a reaction out of you. shortly after, you two arrived to the coffee shop.

he ordered an iced coffee for himself, and got one for you as well. hanma's gaze was still fixated on you.

“so, what’s someone like you doing being single?”

oh, he isn’t wasting any time eh?

please do not steal, copy, translate, repost to other sites or claim my writings as your own. plagiarism is real!

💌 hanma for ray!! @h4nman

this is.. the longest solo character fic i've ever written. just testing the waters hehe ＼＿ﾍ(ω・｀) all likes & reblogs are vv much appreciated! ♡

[missvelvetsstuff]

The Situation Room

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After a mission almost gone wrong, Tony brings back Bucky's former assistant, who is also Bucky's ex. Can they work together without hurting each other? Will the whole truth about their break up finally come out?

Avengers AU where Thanos never happened.

Chapter 8

Notes: Sorry this has taken so long. Life has really been kicking my ass of late so its been hard to concentrate.

I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: swearing and angst, lots of angst.

Bucky had set the table and put all the food out when everyone went to sit, he shouldered Sam out of the spot next to his, that was set up for Radar, her iced tea with a slice of lemon in her green glass.

As everyone else started eating, Bucky waited impatiently for Radar to return to the kitchen, pacing until Tony stopped him.

"Look, Manchurian, I know you're back to lovestruck swain but could you not wear down my rugs?"

Bucky glared at Tony but quickly dropped it and smiled when he heard Radar walking down the hall. He hurried to pull out a chair for her, ignoring Sam's chuckle. He filled her plate with Sam's chicken jambalaya, making sure to give her a couple of fresh biscuits on the side.

Radar looked at her plate, felt a flutter in her stomach and smiled at him softly "You remembered my tea. And biscuits instead of cornbread."

Bucky blushed and mumbled softly "I remember everything."

Tony coughed loudly "Whipped!"

Sam cleared his throat and Loki hummed softly with a small smirk.

Bucky glared around the table while Wanda and Nat grinned back. The whole team seemed very invested in this renewed relationship.

Radar giggled and elbowed Bucky in his side, distracting him from the rest of the team. "Is everything ok, doll? Do you need anything else."

She shook her head "I'm good, Buck. Relax and eat. It's just dinner with the team."

The rest of the meal was a typical team dinner except that everyone paid special attention to the interactions between Bucky and Radar.

When everyone was done Wanda offered a cake she'd made for dessert but Radar begged off "I couldn't eat another bite, I'm stuffed."

Bucky had been about to take a piece but quickly changed his mind. "There's still a little light left, wanna go for a walk around the lake?"

Radar nodded and he pulled her chair out before offering his hand to her. Once they were outside, the table erupted into discussion over the pair. Nat tried to sneak over to the window so she could watch both of them, Sam went to the other window but Steve was faster and closed the blinds while trying to herd them back to the table.

"Come on, guys. Give them some space."

Tony just sat back chuckling at them before speaking up "Pffft, Amateurs. Friday? Could you keep an eye on Radar and Barnes?"

"Sorry, boss. Captain Rogers insisted they need their privacy and asked me to keep their interactions confidential."

Steve smiled smugly while Tony wasn't amused "Excuse me? Override Rogers request."

"I'm afraid I can't do that at this time, boss."

Tony swore under his breath "Friday, we're going to have a chat." He glared over at Steve "You too Rogers" and stomped away while the rest of the team laughed uproariously.

When they got outside Bucky offered his arm to Radar who looked at him and took his hand. "So what do you think are the odds that we aren't being observed?"

Bucky shrugged "I'll bet we're pretty safe out here." And led her down the path that went along the water.

She laughed "You know Tony has every inch of this place wired so that Friday, and by extension him, doesn't miss a thing."

He chuckled "I've missed that laugh but don't worry, Charlie. I've got, an angle."

Radar looked at him sideways "Ok, Captain Stern. I'm impressed you remembered that line."

Bucky smirked at her "How could I forget, considering how many times you made me watch that cheesy movie."

Radar pulled her hand from his "Cheesy movie?" She questioned indignantly. "Cheesy? It only had some of the best music of the 20th century. How dare you, Barnes?"

Bucky grabbed her hand and continued walking "I don't recall any jazz or big band music in that movie at all."

She scoffed "Well it is called Heavy Metal so that old stuff wouldn't have fit in very well, now would it?"

"Maybe but you said-"

She nudged him with her shoulder "I know what I said, Barnes but that old music you listen to is not the best of the last century, unless you're at least a century old."

"Very funny young lady"

Radar smirked at him "You can't win this argument so might as well concede before I have to embarrass you."

Bucky grumbled under his breath before changing the subject "So tell me about Madripoor. What kind of trouble did you get into there?" He paused for a moment "Wait, were you there when Sam and I were-"

Radar nodded "Yes, I saw you revert into Soldat mode. That shit put Zemo at the top of my enemies list but he was back in jail before I could do anything about it."

He looked at her confused "You saw that but that means you were there? Why didn't you-?"

"Yes, I was in the bar but what was I supposed to do? 'Oh hi Barnes, I know you hate my guts because that whore Sharon set me up to look like I cheated on you but how have you been?' I'm sure you would have loved to see me in the middle of all that."

Bucky looked at the ground "Yeah, I guess you're right." Then looked at her "I'm so sorry doll."

Radar shook her head "I told you I forgive you, you don't have to keep apologizing."

Bucky looked at her sadly "Yes, I do. I don't think you understand, I don't know how to help you understand how sorry I am."

He sighed "I know this might be a lot to ask but would you be willing to come to one of my therapy sessions? Dr Raynor would like to meet you, she thinks it could help both of us."

Radar chewed on her lip, thinking and he had to force himself to keep his hands to himself and not run his thumb over her lip to pull it away from her teeth "Yeah, I guess I could do that."

They started walking again, no longer holding hands but their arms softly bumping as they moved before Bucky turned and stopped her again. "Look, doll. The sun is setting."

Radar turned to see the sun going down until it looked like it was sinking into the lake. She sighed softly "It's beautiful."

She didn't realize that Bucky was staring at her when he agreed, whispering "Stunning"

He pulled her to face him and caressed her cheek with his right hand before looking at her lips and starting to lean in like he wanted to kiss her.

Radar felt her heart stutter before turning her face so he ended up kissing her cheek then gently pushing him away.

"Buck" she murmured softly, looking at him with watery eyes "I can't, I um, this is too much. I have to go."

She turned and quickly walked away, forcing herself to stand straight, when she wanted to run back to Madripoor where her heart felt safer even if she wasn't.

Bucky stood there sadly and watched her walk away from him. Again.

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

The compound was quiet for a few days and the team tried to get any information about their talk from Radar and Bucky but neither would even consider discussing it as they tiptoed around each other until he finally couldn't stand it anymore and knocked on her door.

Radar looked surprised to see him there but forced a small smile "What's up, Barnes?"

Bucky smiled back "I was wondering if you would be up for lunch, or coffee or something?."

She frowned "I'm sorry, I already have plans. In fact I-"

A booming voice interrupted "Lady Radar! I hope I'm not too early. Are you ready?"

Radar gave Thor a soft, sad smile "Yes, let me grab my purse."

She looked at Bucky "We'll talk later, ok?"

Thor grinned "Sargent Barnes, I hope you don't mind if I take the lady off of your hands for a short time. I promise to return her safe and sound."

Bucky smiled with clenched teeth. "Of course not. I'll see you both later."

That night, after the dinner that Radar and Thor were conspicuously from, Bucky received a text from Radar *therapist tomorrow?*

Bucky sighed. He wanted to ask about her date with Thor, if anything was going on between them but he knew he had no right so simply replied

*Sure, that'd be great*

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

Bucky didn't see Radar until they were both standing outside of Dr Raynors office. The doctor smiled when she opened the door to let them in.

"Welcome Y/N, I'm so glad you've come to talk. James has told me so much about you."

Radar flinched and giggled nervously "Great, starting out with a target on my back"

Raynor smiled softly "Not at all. One incident doesn't define you, especially considering such extenuating circumstances. I always try to keep an open mind when someone does something that seems unforgivable."

She moved to her desk, motioning toward the couch "Please have a seat, Y/N. James."

After a few moments of silence she looked at both of them pointedly "Who wants to start?"

Radar sighed "I really don't know what to say. My ex worked with a woman who hates me, to set me up and the man I loved believed her without even giving me a chance to say a word so I left. I wasn't going to stay and watch her seduce him."

Raynor nodded "Running away is often easier, in the short term, than confronting our problems. Considering the circumstances and your past, it's understandable that fleeing seemed like a safe response."

Radar replied sharply "My past? What do you know of my past? And what does it have to do with this?"

Raynor looked at a chart "You joined the military to get away from an abusive father, only to fall in with an abusive boyfriend, John Walker. When that relationship fell apart you left the army and joined the CIA to get away from him. Hurt your back on a mission and ended up at a desk but when a romance with a coworker blew up you fled to SWORD which brought you to the Avengers compound."

She sat back with a reassuring look on her face "Running away is your go to, leaving painful situations behind instead of trying to repair them."

Radar bristled "So I was supposed to stay in abusive situations and try to talk my abusers out of hurting me?"

Her voice went up "You think I didn't try to talk to my father? Stop him from hurting us? Or John? I guess the hours of couples therapy aren't in your little chart."

She shook her head as she stood, wiping the tears from her eyes "I knew this would be an ambush, I don't have to sit her and take all the blame for shit that I had little control over."

Raynor stood "Please, Y/N. This isn't about assigning blame. It's about understanding why you and James acted and reacted to the incident that broke you up."

Radar sat back down with her legs and arms crossed, a sullen look on her face. "In the past I tried to fix things and only left when I couldn't make things better. I tried to talk to Bucky the morning after and he wouldn't even let me get one word out. What would be the point of staying?"

Raynor nodded "I understand your logic but if you had stayed, maybe you could have talked in a few days, after James calmed down."

Radar sighed "Every time I tried to fix the problems I dealt with, I failed. I wasted so much of my life trying to make things better and it never worked. I had no reason to believe that Bucky would change his mind and didn't have the strength to try anymore."

She looked at her hands "Besides, Bucky has been through enough. I thought it would be easier for him if I were gone."

Bucky had been sitting silently, observing and remembering what Radar had told him about her past, aching for all she had been thru and feeling guilty for his part in her trauma.

Raynor quickly glanced at Bucky before looking back to Radar "We all have our ways to cope, James has convinced himself that he doesn't deserve anything good, because of his past, that his friends and loved ones are better off without him so he pushes them away. Like he did to you. He felt like your cheating was proof that he didn't deserve your love and you could do better. Less than a week later he was in here telling me about his efforts to find you because he needed to talk and understand why but you had disappeared and no one would tell him anything about your whereabouts."

Radar looked at Bucky, surprised at Raynors words "You, did what?" She barely whispered but Bucky could hear and nodded.

He grabbed her hands and pulled her to face him "I was desperate to find you, to understand but it was like you had ceased to exist.

The last two years have been Hell for me and I know I don't have any right to lay my angst on you but I need you to know how empty I've felt, how nothing has made a dent in the hole that I carved out of myself when I pushed you away. Women, Thor's ale, workouts, missions... Nothing helped."

He sighed "I've spent what feels like a thousand hours in therapy, trying to understand why it happened, blaming myself for your cheating. I know I don't deserve anything from you but is there any way you could give me another chance?"

Radar pulled away, wrapping her arms around herself and looked down "I I really don't know. I came here planning to get your Avenger shit together and get out as soon as I found a replacement. I didn't want to see all the hard work you've done be lost. Plus, Tony kinda begged. But I still have people in Madripoor and we haven't caught Sharon and I just I I I don't know if I can do relationships anymore. I think something is broken inside of me. I've tried a couple of times and I couldn't open up at all or trust even enough to give out my real name instead of the Legend I created before I got there."

Bucky rubbed her hands "I think I understand that. Maybe we could help each other heal? Dr Raynor has been helping me work through my guilt, helping me understand why I reacted how I did."

Radar sniffled "I can't promise anything, I don't know if I can stay here or if we can have any kind of relationship again.

I mean, you never even listened until John told you and you've been kind of a dick, like above and beyond, doing everything you thought would hurt me."

Buckys shoulders dropped "I know. I was still hurting and wanted to make you feel like I felt. It was stupid and childish and I'm sorry."

He clenched his teeth "Is that why you're spending so much time with Loki and Thor? To hurt me back."

Radar shook her head "No, they're my friends. Loki is still dealing with being a former villian, you should understand that. And Thor, well he's dealing with losing Jane.

Like much of the team, they've still been my friends, even though we split up but I didn't see Loki or Thor while I was gone so we've been catching up."

She looked at Bucky sadly "Ok, if I'm being totally honest maybe it was in the back of my mind that me spending time with them might bother you. Not at first because I really didn't think you'd care but then John told you what happened and there was a pinch of spite in me. Because you listened to him, even though you hate him but wouldn't listen to me who you claimed to love."

She became angry, her voice raised "How could you listen to John and Sharon but not me? You threw us away on the words of two of the worst people I've ever met."

Bucky felt her pain hit him in the chest, slamming into his guilt, rendering him speechless.

The room fell into a silence that Dr Raynor interrupted "We're out of time but I think its been a productive start." She stood and shook Radar's hand

"It's been good to meet you. I hope you'll come back with James, I think it would be good for both of you."

Radar and Bucky left Raynors office and walked back to the team's living area in silence.

Bucky broke it when they arrived at Radars door. "I guess dinner is a no, huh?"

She shook her head sadly "I need some time to, to think, about everything. I'll see you tomorrow."

Bucky nodded "Yeah, ok. Just make sure you eat ok? I can send Wanda or Nat...."

"Dont worry, Bucky. I'm good."

"Ok. Good night, doll."

"g'night"

@unaxv @calwitch @buckitostan @cjand10. @vicmc624 @sandrab02

Chapter 9

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

i did wind up having to do some work into monday & a little on tuesday, and should prrrrobably do a mid-break admin catch up session tomorrow, but even so i have been having a very nice time off! we were able to head up for family stuff on christmas eve into christmas day, which was very exciting because our nephew is now JUST old enough for real legos if he gets some help :) thursday i took for chipping away at chores (i conquered dish mountain and finally did All my laundry and hopefully can now settle into doing one load once a week like a normal person….); friday i went over a friend’s to watch cinema classique xtina/cher vehicle burlesque, in which among other miraculous happenings dr. sam from new girl fucks stanley tucci; saturday i split a pot of tea & a slice of pistachio-chocolate cake with a friend at a yemeni coffee shop & saw her again at the party after which some of us got a nightcap at a local bar and i wound up drunkenly booking a haircut at 4:25 in the morning, which is very silly but you know i’ve been putting it off for months; today i slept off last night and did some end of year journaling & reflecting and then headed into the city to catch babygirl with some friends, at which i had somehow an even better time than i had hoped for. i have mostly been extremely physically lazy but i did get my five workouts in even through the very worst of the luteal times; i have been extremely intellectually lazy more or less without exception. in my head when i pictured my Staycation i thought i would go to museums and such but i really forgot how much i need an effort shutdown at the end of the year and also hate leaving the apartment when it’s cold and i feel fortunate to have had fun find its way to me anyway. i have zero plans tomorrow and then fun plans four days in a row and then one final mostly empty day (which realistically speaking will also be spent sleeping off the night before), which seems basically ideal for me in terms of the relaxation-stimulation balance.

[porcelainseashore]

Teenage Headache Dreams (2)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: High School! College! Leon Kennedy x Dancer! Fem! Reader

Summary: You’re a bored, but ambitious high school student who can’t wait to escape small town life and make it in the big city. You thought you had it all figured out, until you unwittingly befriend the resident golden boy, Leon. A series of events beginning from junior year to college until Resident Evil 2 Remake.

Warnings: 18+ Swearing, Recreational Drug Use, Eventual Smut, No (Y/N), Ambiguous/Open Ending

Content: High School AU, College AU, Pre-Resident Evil 2, Fluff, Romance, Cliche, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Lack of Communication

Author's Note: Cliché alert and mostly fluff in this chapter! There’s been a mini time skip, but I wanted to show that Reader x Leon became fast friends in the meantime and are relatively comfortable with each other. I made Leon a lot cheekier this round, but I feel like he uses mischief to mask his true feelings.

AO3 Link

Chapter 2: More Than Meets the Eye

The first couple of weeks of the new term had already flown by and managing your tight schedule of school work, actual work, dance and cheer practice left you with literally no time for anything else. Sighing as you yanked open your locker to retrieve your school books, a familiar figure popped up at your side, slouching against the metallic compartments with a loud thud.

Without even turning your head in its direction, you already knew who it was. “Hey, loser,” you called out, smiling inside.

“Hey, yourself,” came his gruff reply.

As you finally faced the culprit, you and Leon laughed at each other’s greetings.

“So, since it’s a Friday, wanna hang out and watch something tonight?”

Both of you had been almost inseparable until school started, and that’s when you guiltily kept postponing your regular meetups in favor of working on your future goals.

“Uh… I don’t think I can.” You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly. “I seriously need to get some studying time in and I have cheer practice after school.”

“What was that again?” He put a hand to his ear, listening for something non-existent and pausing for dramatic effect. “All I heard were excuses.”

“Hey-”

“Come on, relax.” Placing his hand on your shoulder, he gave it a tiny squeeze. “School’s only just started. You’re gonna burn out if you keep going like this.”

“Leon…” It came out a lot whinier than you intended.

His eyes widened as you caught a brief glimpse of something devilish in them. You knew it was too late to stop the bullshit that would come out of that filthy mouth any second now. 

“Mm, say it like that again.” Ah, there it is.

Groaning internally, you smacked his hand off your shoulder playfully. “Ugh, you know there’s no way-” 

You turned your head around, checking behind you before lowering your voice. “-I’ll ever get outta here, if I don’t push myself from the start.”

He straightened up a little as he considered your words. “You hate this place that much, huh?”

“You think?” It came out almost as a whisper.

“Shame,” he muttered. “Well, tell you what,” he glanced quickly to the side before looking back at you. “Since you’re so damn keen on this study session, we could do that and then grab some burgers after. Maybe even a movie. How’s that sound?” He puffed his chest and looked almost victorious, as though he knew it was an offer you couldn’t back out of.

Fuck Leon and his persistence. “Yeah, fine,” you grumbled as you shut your locker in defeat.

Once again, that smug grin flashed across his face. “Great, so uh, see you at 5?”

“Mm hm, library,” you nodded reluctantly.

“By the way, your girl gang is here,” he motioned with his head in the direction behind you. “Guess that’s my cue to leave.” Before you could respond, he had already walked ten paces away.

Nobody likes gossip. Ever since you had started hanging out with Leon, people talked and they assumed many things. How far the rumors reached, you didn’t know, but you didn’t want to ruin things between the two of you. You cursed small town gossip under your breath. This was probably one of the few genuine friendships you had, so you tried to keep things as lowkey as possible. Thankfully, Leon agreed to play along. For now.

You tightened your grip on your books as you spun around, plastering a bright smile across your face as you greeted your teammates, who were still sporting tans from their holidays and bubbly chatting with each other.

“Hey, babe,” Kayla, the cheer captain, moved in to give you a quick hug. You caught a whiff of her tropical-scented, coconut vanilla perfume. “So where did your boy run off to?” She winked, giving you a side smile. The other girls around her immediately broke out in hushed whispers.

There wasn’t anything malicious about her question. In fact, your teammates were nice enough, but they could be rather superficial and nosey. You tried to downplay it with a look of confusion in your eyes, shaking your head as you remarked, “He’s just a study partner, Kayla.”

Some giggles broke out and your ears burned. Great, they didn’t buy that a single bit. Defending yourself would just raise more suspicion, so you unhappily resigned yourself to the fact that you were probably doomed for the rest of the term.

“Yeah, whatever.” Kayla waved her hand dismissively. “Was about time anyway, and he’s quite the catch.” She licked her lips suggestively, but quickly added, “Not as good as mine though.” Of course, her obnoxious football boyfriend. You tried to hide your grimace. 

Flipping her shiny, raven-colored locks, she continued, “Still, very cute. I approve.”

Your mouth ran dry. Why couldn’t they just mind their own business? You swallowed your anger as you tried to change the subject. “Um, cheer practice at 3, right?”

She snickered, seeing right through your act. “Yeah, same as always.” She turned to leave, wiggling her fingers as a form of goodbye. “Oh, and you’re leading warm-ups today. Ciao, babe.”

You could hear audible groans coming from the rest of the team as they trudged off with Kayla. They definitely weren’t looking forward to your intense warm-up session, but to you, warmer bodies meant lesser injury risk and better preparation for stunts and routines. Pursing your lips at the less-than-ideal conversation you just had, you tried to shove it to the back of your mind as you hurried off to class.

━━━━━━━━━━━

As you flung open the double doors leading to the school’s indoor gym, you were greeted by the unfamiliar sight of another group you didn’t exactly recognize next to your cheer team. It seemed like Kayla was speaking to their coach, as she nodded a bit too enthusiastically - a nervous habit she displayed when she was irritated but didn’t want to show it. Slowly, you inched closer to listen in on their conversation.

“There must have been a double booking-”

“I’ll sort this out with the admin right now,” Kayla offered.

“It’s just going to eat into practice time. Anyway, this lot won’t need much space today. Functional training.” He sucked his teeth and gestured towards the group. That’s when you spotted Leon, sitting at the side with his arms across his lap, chatting merrily with another girl on his team.

Just my luck, you sighed, folding your arms as the coach continued, “I’m sure you girls won’t mind sharing?”

You saw Kayla clenching and unclenching her fists as she hesitantly agreed to the proposal. With that, she spun around and called out shrilly, “Ladies! We’ve gotta share the space. We’re taking this half.” She drew an imaginary line with her arms as if to stake her claim, before brushing past you seething, “They always think they can sideline us, like we’re not important.”

At this point, Leon made eye contact and waved over. The girl beside him suppressed a laugh and you weren’t sure whether she was embarrassed or making fun of you. Furrowing your brows, you gave a hasty, lopsided smile before heading over to your side of the gym, making a mental note to question Leon about that exchange later.

Wasting no time for further pleasantries, you proceeded to blast your high-energy mixtape on the cassette player as loudly as possible, secretly smirking as you heard the coach swear under his breath at the intrusion.

“Ok, everyone! Let’s get those heart rates up!” You hollered, running through the exercises as they copied you dutifully, breaking out in a sweat and panting furiously. 

Your eyes filtered through the crowd, checking for anything they could improve on, as you continued calling out prompts. “You can lift your legs higher than that!” Hm, that sounded rather… You ignored that prickly feeling at the back of your throat and continued, “Face up, not to the floor!”

When it came to the stretching section and the music toned down, you suddenly heard the unmistakable yell of a reprimand being given from the other end of the room. “Kennedy! You can stare at girls after training!”

Wait, what? Your head darted in the direction of the bellowing. Sure enough, you saw the coach glaring at Leon, who seemed pretty flustered as he denied the accusations with a feeble “I wasn’t!”, which was met with roars of laughter.

Really, Leon? Getting distracted by a bunch of cheerleaders? You were oblivious to what actually happened there and decided to pay no more attention to it. Instead, it was time to go through the routine and fortunately you were relatively decent at compartmentalizing.

“Alright, a few things I wanted to point out,” you began. “This part’s looking good, but it would start off even more amazing, if you frame your body like this.” Adjusting your shoulders with your arms slightly back, profile tilted a smidge upwards, you angled yourself in a semi-diagonal position, shifting your weight towards one leg as you lengthened the other for the prep stance. The other cheerleaders shuffled around, attempting to imitate what you showed.

Kayla motioned for you to demonstrate the full sequence before she took over and you obliged. “Ok, watch me.” You danced through the routine dynamically, hitting all the accents and flowing through the softer parts more sensually. Whipping your hair around as you transitioned from a body wave into a hip roll, you swung the pom poms above your head at the same time and trailed them across your body.

It all seemed to happen in a haze, but after coming out of the next spin, you somehow ended up holding a gaze with those same piercing blue eyes that had caused you so much trouble today. They widened and flickered, but didn’t break away for what felt like an eternity, until-

“Leon Scott Kennedy! I swear to god!”

Uh oh.

“You either train, or you can leave!”

Leon’s cheeks flushed bright red as he bit his lip, stammering, “Sorry coach, won’t happen again.”

You’d never seen Leon get this unnerved, which concerned you. He emanated a natural sense of confidence and was usually laid-back to the point where nothing could ruffle him. In any case, you were also sure as hell everyone heard and saw that commotion, especially since a number of students were now looking between him and you, mumbling to each other.

Nothing could beat the relief you felt when Kayla took over your position, as you stepped away from the center to join the rest of your team. Just when you thought you were in the clear, one of your teammates scooted over to you, whispering seductively in your ear, “Ooh he definitely enjoyed the show you put on.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

The minute practice ended, you bolted straight for the restroom, just so you didn’t have to deal with anyone else for the time being. Hiding in one of the cubicles for a good 10 minutes until you could hear the last footsteps trickle out of the hallway, you unlocked the door and stumbled over to the wash basin, splashing cold water on your face. Checking yourself one last time in the mirror to make sure you looked presentable, you inhaled a deep breath before exiting and making your way towards the library.

From afar, you could see Leon waiting patiently outside of it, as though he fully trusted that you would still show up after that little stunt he pulled earlier. Walking gingerly towards him, you cleared your throat.

“Oh, hey. So… what’re we studying today?” He asked casually, while browsing through his pile of books, as if nothing had happened.

“Math. Definitely Math,” you concluded, also pretending to ignore the white elephant in the room. “If that’s ok with you?”

“Sure, I suck at it. So why not?”

The study session went by rather sluggishly and uneventfully, with both of you going through equations after equations and figuring out the logic together. It was a wonder you could concentrate at all with the events of the day playing back in your mind like a broken record. 

You were thankful for Leon’s earlier suggestion of burgers when it was time to pack up to leave. He gave you a knowing smile when your stomach growled and you placed a hand over your belly instinctively, as you cast back a self-conscious glance. It seemed like he had thought of everything again, where you often had trouble remembering your own basic needs when you were lost in your schoolwork.

Both of you plopped down on the cushy, retro red seats opposite each other in a booth at the only diner in town, getting in your orders as quickly as possible. You suspected that he was just as famished as you, but trying his best not to show it. During the waiting time, the two of you caught up with and exchanged news on all the goings-on of the past weeks.

When your orders finally arrived, you snatched up your burger, devouring large chunks of it, while Leon looked on amused as he bit into his.

“Wuhhff?” You managed to cough out with your mouth stuffed with food.

Almost instantly, he mimicked your reaction, resulting in a fry being thrown in his direction, as he ducked to avoid it while snickering.

“Here, you got some sauce on your chin.” He reached out with a paper napkin, gently wiping it away, as his bright blue eyes bore into yours. That prickly sensation you felt earlier in the school gym started to bloom again, as you squeezed your eyes shut and cleared your throat. “Is it gone now?”

“Uh… y-yeah.” 

Fluttering your eyes open, you caught sight of him looking down at his plate, suddenly completely engrossed with his meal, as he chucked the used napkin to the side. You were quite certain you spotted a pink tinge dusting his cheeks while he slowly chewed his food.

The table grew silent as you muttered a quick, “Thanks.”

Giving it a few minutes before you attempted any form of conversation, you casually decided to bring up the topic you had both been avoiding till now.

“So…” you breathed, testing the waters.

“So…?” Leon questioned, raising an eyebrow, still munching the last bits of his burger.

“At the gym. What was that all about?” You picked at your fries nervously, as you felt a rush of adrenaline coursing through your body in anticipation of an answer.

“What do you mean?”

Ugh. He’s deflecting again. But you weren’t about to let this go so easily. “Don’t play dumb, Kennedy.”

Leon paused, and you could see the wheels turning in his head as he considered his words carefully. It only took a moment for his face to light up as if he hit the jackpot. “I got distracted, that’s all.” His signature smirk broke out across his lips, before adding, “By you.”

The boldness of his answer caught you by surprise, as you choked on your food. Patting your chest, you gulped down some water before sputtering, “Excuse me?”

All at once, he was back to his usual, composed self, as he remarked, “You dance really well. Can’t I admire that?”

“Um… y-yeah, I guess.” You weren’t sure how to respond. Coming from a background where dance teachers often gave you tough love and criticisms in an effort to spur you on, you never really learnt how to accept compliments.

“A ‘thanks’ would be nice.” 

Clenching your jaw, you wished you could wipe that stupid smirk off his face. Trying to approach it from a different angle, you blurted out, “But, people talk.”

Leaning back against his seat and placing his hands behind his head, Leon seemed unfazed. “So let them talk.” Noticing your frown, he continued, “What’s wrong if they think we’re dating? Am I really that bad to be with?” He mentioned it as if it was the most normal thing to say in conversation between two friends, and the worst thing was that you didn’t know how to counter that.

“No, you’re gre-,” you quickly corrected yourself. “I mean, you’re fine.” Sighing, you explained, “I just don’t want things to be awkward between us.”

His gaze softened as he reassured you, “It won’t, trust me.”

Since he was that calm about it, you decided not to pursue it any further. Maybe you were thinking too much into things. However, another question popped up in your mind. “Who was the girl you were speaking with back there?”

He propped himself up again, a little taken aback by the quick change of topic. “Oh, you mean Val? Yeah, we sometimes participate in relays together. She can be a real handful though.”

“She seemed to find me amusing,” you pointed out.

“Really? I didn’t notice,” he shrugged and scoffed down the remainder of his fries. You searched his eyes to detect if he was messing with you, but couldn’t find anything of the sort. “I told her about you.”

Well, that explains it. Crossing your arms, you prepared to release an earful until you were interrupted by the grinning idiot in front of you. “Do I even want to know-”

“I said…” He drifted off, taking his time to sip his soda, leaving you hanging on purpose. You subconsciously leaned in closer as your patience started to wear thin. He lowered his voice, presumably to utter something serious. “You’re the coolest kid I met over summer.”

“You’re such a dork!” You exclaimed, as you punched his arm lightly from across where you sat.

“Ouch! And here I am baring my soul to you.” He rubbed his arm melodramatically and feigned a hurt expression on his face, which only served to encourage you to taunt and play fight with him further.

Sometimes he could be so infuriating. But funnily enough, that was part of what drew you to him in the first place. 

━━━━━━━━━━━

It turned out that Leon had rented some VHS tapes from Blockbuster, so you had the choice of either heading to the local cinema for a late night screening or watching a movie from the comfort of his home. Naturally, you picked the latter. Going to the cinema together would seem too “date night”-like and you had endured more than enough gossip that day to last a lifetime.

You greeted his parents as they kindly let you and Leon hog the living room TV. Before heading upstairs to their bedroom, they gave a half-hearted reminder not to stay up too late, that they knew would go unheeded. They were friendly and way more relaxed than your parents, so much so you preferred hanging out at Leon’s place over yours.

After making some hot chocolate, you settled onto the couch as Leon popped the tape into the video player. Relaxing into the cozy atmosphere, you hugged the warm blanket he offered you and savored the steaming drink between your hands.

Unfortunately, the day’s events probably caught up to you, as your eyelids grew heavier as time went by and you were fighting a losing battle to keep them open. At some point, you must have drifted off to sleep and then accidentally used Leon as a makeshift pillow. He swallowed thickly, as you curled up beside him, resting your head against his shoulder and nuzzling his neck, completely unaware. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest that he was afraid he would wake you. Something made him instinctively wrap his arm around you, even though his mind was screaming to do the exact opposite. This is just gonna make things worse, he sighed, but he didn’t feel the urge to remove it and maybe he could get away without you knowing. So he let you sleep soundly until the credits ran.

“Hey.” He called out softly, as you stirred. “The movie’s over now.”

Blinking groggily, your vision was still blurry as you tried to make out where you were. You weren’t sure if you felt an arm around you or just the back of the couch, as you rubbed your eyes.

“You fell asleep,” he explained, as he let you go and tried to shift away from you as stealthily as possible, hoping you wouldn’t recall the previous position you were in.

“Hm?” You stretched your arms out, yawning lazily as you scratched your head. “Uh, what time is it?”

“Just past midnight.”

You jerked upwards, startled. “Shit, so late?” Your face swung in his direction. “You didn’t wake me?”

He bit his bottom lip, eyeing you apologetically. “You looked like you needed the rest. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

You buried your face into the bunched up blanket on top of your knees, groaning, “Ugh, my parents are going to kill me.”

That drew a faint laugh from him. “Don’t worry, I took care of it.”

You turned towards him with a puzzled look.

“I called them before-” he stopped himself abruptly, as you noticed him tense up.

“Before what?” You questioned out of confusion.

“Nothing.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and refused to meet your gaze.

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to figure out if something out of the ordinary had happened. It started off as a vague recollection of falling asleep, maybe leaning against something and the smell of fresh citrus and musk… which smells exactly like- Oh god, no. Your stomach dropped. The realization that you had snuggled with Leon in your sleep dawned on you and your head was whirling.

At this point, Leon knew you had worked out what happened, so he did the only thing he could do in such a situation. “Man, you were heavy.” 

That snapped you out of it and earned him a slap to his chest. “It was a joke, jeez!” He raised both hands up in defense and quickly moved to a different topic, “Anyway, as I was saying, your parents told me to walk you home when you woke up.”

“Oh… thanks,” you shook your head and sighed. “Sorry to put you through the trouble.”

He waved it off. “It’s really no big deal. I’m just glad I finally got to hang out with you again.”

“Yeah, me too,” you admitted. “This was nice.”

As you got up from the couch to prepare to leave, it seemed like Leon had another idea. Grabbing your wrist, he coaxed, “And?”

You knew what he meant and nodded in agreement. “And… I promise I’ll make time for this in the future.” A random thought flashed across your mind as you grinned cheekily. You had to get him back after all his teasing. “How about…”

“I’m listening,” he mentioned with a hint of suspicion in his voice.

“...we meet for more study sessions?”

It was his turn to groan, as you giggled uncontrollably. “That’s such a cop-out!” He responded accusingly. 

Placing your hands on his shoulders and bending down to meet him at eye level, you pleaded, “Come on, we could do something fun after too?”

Rolling his eyes, he rebutted, “You’re kinda driving a hard bargain here.”

You weren’t ashamed to play dirty though, so you turned on the best doe eyes you could muster, and insisted, “Please?” You knew he was a lost cause now.

“Damn it, that’s not fair,” he grumbled, though he eventually gave in. “Ok fine, but only if fun’s a guarantee.”

“Deal.” With that, you took his hand in yours, giving it a firm handshake.

[braidlottie]

WRAPPED AROUND YOUR FINGER.

part 1

series masterlist | gif credit | next chapter

you were finally home from school, with the weekend ahead of you. you got an insane amount of work done last night, just so you could take the next few days to relax.

kicking off your shoes and putting your key on the hook, you called for your mother.

you walked through the hallway, entering the kitchen and seeing your mother and another lady across from her with a cup of tea.

“oh, hello,” you greeted shyly. the woman just smiled and waved. “sorry if i’m intruding-”

“no, it’s fine, honey. i wanted you to meet lottie. she’s one of my friends from high school.” the woman went to shake your hand, you shaking back politely. “i’m y/n.”

“your mother’s told me quite a lot about you, y/n.” lottie’s eyebrow raised, your smile fading. “oh god, she didn’t show my naked baby pictures, did she?” you asked in fear, making her laugh and your mother roll her eyes.

“very funny. now if you’ll excuse me, i’ll be in the bathroom.”

taissa leaves the room, also leaving silence between you and lottie. you went to the fridge to grab a drink, gulping deeply before speaking again.

“so how did you and my mom meet?”

“we were in a soccer team together in high school. we were so close, the team had a beautiful bond. it was almost like we were stuck together with glue because we would never leave each other’s side. but then, college came around.”

you frowned. “did you guys end up going to different schools?” lottie nodded, taking another sip of her tea. “we all made plans to meet up during break, but no one ever had any time. then one day i realized i haven’t spoken to my friend in months.”

“i’m sorry, that must’ve been hard.” you tried to say something sympathetic, nervously scratching the back of your head. “you’re a darling, you don’t have to apologize.” lottie shook her head and lightly patted your hand that was on the marbled kitchen island. you looked down at your feet, then back up at her. she was totally checking you out, but you didn’t want to think that! she was your mother’s friend!

but..

her touch was so gentle, and her voice, oh her voice was so raspy yet so soft and warm, it could send you to sleep. you were so bad at making eye contact and part of you felt like she knew.

“what were you two talking about?” you jumped, hearing your mother’s voice down the hall. lottie’s hand left yours, just before taissa turned the corner, the same peachy smile she had when you first saw her. “oh just telling him about us in high school. your mother was the most competitive person i know. and still is.” lottie turned to you mid sentence, her eyes dark with lust.

“uhh, it’s been fun you guys, but i really have to study-”

“on a friday?”

“yes, mom. on a friday.” you hurriedly walked up the stairs, seeing the two women watch you from below.

finally, walking up to your room, you closed the door. you straight up lied to your mother, turning on your tv instead of pulling out our workbook. you just wanted to get away from it all.

you couldn’t get the way lottie looked at you out of your head. her eyes were practically burned into your brain, you couldn’t even close your eyes. her big brown eyes were still there, staring you down.

you got broken out of your trance when you heard a knock on your door. “can i come in?”

“uhh- yeah, sure.”

your mother came through the door, leaning against its frame. “i just wanted to let you know that lottie was staying over tonight. are you okay with that?”

your heart sunk. you had thought you wouldn’t see this woman ever again after today, and now she’s staying at your house?!

“uhh, yeah, no, that’s totally fine. that’s awesome, actually.” you smiled awkwardly, trying to play off the fact that you wanted lottie to absolutely fu-

“are you sure? you seem a little-”

“tired. i’m really tired, i might actually take a nap.”

“alright, well, good night, honey.” your mother kissed your forehead, you mirroring her smile as she walked out your room, closing the door behind her.

you face planted onto your bed and sighed. you wanted to go back down there and talk to her, but there’s always tomorrow, right?