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snackhobi · 4 years

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this is my part of the rockin’ around the christmas tropes collab with @yeojaa, @underthejoon @ladyartemesia, @ppersonna, @untaemedqueen, @xjoonchildx ✨ MERRY (early) CHRISTMAS Y’ALL

summary: yoongi is your favourite regular. he’s patient, polite, and predictable, a-large-black-coffee-to-go-please, no cream, no sugar, thank you. rinse and repeat. the seasons might change, but yoongi’s order stays the same.

and then one fateful day in winter, yoongi asks about the weekly specials, orders a cup of christmas and sugary sweetness, and everything starts changing.

pairing: yoongi x barista f!reader / word count: 14.8k / genre: coffeeshop!au, fluff, dash of smut (NSFW)

warnings: slow burn, terrible drink concoctions, pining, miscommunication (kind of/reader comes to incorrect conclusions based on literally nothing), the tiniest bit of swearing, heated makeouts, oral (m receiving), I think that’s it

a/n: I have a lot of people to thank: thank you to my loveliest most beautiful wife @yeojaa for the beautiful banner 🥺💖 thank you to @morndas for helping me name this fic and suggesting some of the awful weekly specials featured within 🥰 thank you to @yeoldontknow for letting me have multiple meltdowns at her and for letting me pick her brain about working in the music industry, and for helping me with plot points I wasn’t sure about!! 💕

also thank you to @hobi-gif for helping me brainstorm the original fic idea with her; she hasn’t beta’ed this fic because I am TERRIBLE and literally finished this like an hour before posting. that’s on me and not her. I am a shambles without her indomitable proof reading skills; any mistakes are down to me, and I apologise for that. I’ve only read this through like once, sorry in advance, I’m literally formatting this while I should be getting ready for work

Being a barista isn’t all bad.

Like, okay, you’re on your feet for hours at a time, the pay isn’t exactly the highest in the world, and coffee beans have a tendency to end up in the weirdest places (how did you get the light roast in your bra?)—but it’s not entirely terrible.

Here’s a (totally not comprehensive) list of good things about working at the Paradise coffee shop:

The free drinks (y’know, for taste testing purposes)

The free food (you probably eat more than you’re actually allowed, but who’s telling?)

Your coworkers (like Taehyung, who is—yep—currently shoving a whole mini panettone in his mouth)

Most of the customers are pretty nice, too (you have some lovely regulars)

(If you had to be more specific, there’s one regular in particular that you really, really like—)

(Yoongi appears like clockwork every week. Just after the Tuesday lunch rush, the bell above the door will sing out its greeting as he steps inside, ordering the same drink each and every time he’s here—a large Americano, to go, plain and simple and unadorned, no room for cream or milk, no added sugar or sweetener.)

(Yoongi really is the perfect customer. He has been from the very beginning, a point of quiet in a churning sea of hot, sweaty people all begging for frappés and milkshakes, the hottest point at the very peak of summer. The queue had been growing longer and longer, out of the doors as the blenders whirred their way through a neverending cascade of sugary, iced blends; the counters were a mess and all the baristas were running around and everything was chaos and in had walked this guy, all dark hair and dark eyes and dark clothes, even in the height of summer—you were ready for death at this point, hands sticky with syrup and apron streaked with flecks from almost every drink from the summer menu, and you’d braced yourself for some terse words, impatience and passive aggressive comments on the long wait—)

(—and this intimidating man had just patiently asked for an iced Americano, calm and quiet and polite.)

(You’d fallen a little in love, then and there. Fallen in love with that simple order, quick and easy to make, and fallen a little in love with the dichotomy of the man who looked like nothing but sharp edges being the softest customer you’d had all day. There was nothing rushed about his motions, no desperate need to get his drink and get away, no anger at having waited for so long.)

(He’d been ready to pay, too, no fumbling with his wallet or money; he’d tapped his card, easy and breezy and all lemon squeezy, but he’d left a tip in change, dropped almost thoughtlessly into the jar. He’d collected his cup with the smallest upturn to his lips, a tilt of his head, and then he’d left, other customers parting before him like the Red Sea.)

(The only thing that’s changed over the months is that the iced coffees of summer have changed into hot Americanos for the cooler months, autumn and now almost-winter, warding off the chill in the air. Everything else is the same; his dark eyes and low voice and patient smile, small but ever present, pressed lightly into the surprisingly soft line of his mouth.)

(So, yeah. Yoongi is your favourite customer. Even if you’ve barely spoken, really, the two of you dancing through the same short script each time he comes in—the longest conversation you’ve had so far is the one where you’d tentatively asked if he’d like a rewards card, and after a moment of contemplation, he’d quietly agreed.)

(You like to think that you’re Yoongi’s favourite server, too. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but—)

(Taehyung had been stunned into speechlessness, because, to quote his words exactly: “I tried getting him to sign up for a card last time and I swear he just pretended he couldn’t hear me? He just straight up didn’t respond? What?”)

(—you know Yoongi likes you at least a little bit.)

Anyway. You’re getting off the point. Paradise is a decent place to work, the people are nice, and the building is pretty and airy and welcoming and warm, toasty and cosy in the upcoming cold of winter. It’s one of the things that keeps people coming back, that lovely atmosphere.

Another thing that people apparently love about Paradise is the constantly changing menu. It’s not enough to have seasonal menus, no—you need to have weekly specials, apparently, to keep people interested. It’s like a gachapon, but instead of cute little capsule toys, it’s a random mix of concoctions that are hit or miss.

“Well, I liked the Peachy Keen Jelly Bean,” Taehyung says, around a mouthful of sweet bread, still chewing his way through the panettone.

“You’d be the only one,” you reply, swiping a cloth over the counters and crinkling your nose at the pile of coffee grounds you gather. “Iced peach tea with blackberry and vanilla and cherry and watermelon syrup has got to be one of the worst things we’ve ever served.”

That had definitely been one of the misses. This week’s special, though, is far more palatable, if incredibly sweet—Crystal Snow, a white chocolate mocha with whipped cream, dusted with powdered sugar, and a crystallised sugar stick to stir in. Sugar on sugar on sugar, basically. (Your teeth ache just thinking about it.)

But there’s always something so fun about making the winter specials, no matter how sugary they are; the smell of the sticky syrups, the swirl of cream to top off the cup, the dusting of cocoa or cinnamon, everything mulled in the sweet warmth of winter. Even if the drink you’re making is questionable, you get so excited about it, genuinely enthusiastic when you recommend them to customers, carrying everyone into the spirit of the upcoming holidays. You’d hardly describe making coffee a billion times a day fun—it’s pretty exhausting, actually—but you’ve always had a weird affection for the winter menu and the weekly specials alongside it.

You don’t upsell the drinks because you have to. You do it because you want to.

(You’re pretty good at it too. Not a flex: just a fact. Your customer service is on point.)

The only person you’ve never tried to persuade into trying something new is Yoongi. He might not be rude or short tempered, but he clearly knows what he wants, and you hate the idea of ruining the easy flow of his visits. You’re not about to embarrass yourself by asking Mr No-Cream-Or-Sugar if he’d like a drink that's nothing but cream and sugar. Asking about the rewards card had been nerve-wracking enough, even if it had been worth it for the genuinely-unintentional-but-definitely-not-unpleasant brushing of your fingers when you’d handed the card over to him.

(Okay. Look. Yoongi is patient and pleasant and polite and cute. You never thought that you’d crush on a customer, but here you are. He just… oozes masculinity in an understated, self-assured way that has you internally swooning. He looks intimidating and serious but when he smiles his eyes go soft-soft-soft, his voice a low rumble as he gives you his gentle thank you, and everything about him is just so… attractive. Even the way he holds his coffee is hot, fingers loose around the lid as he makes his way out of the café, your eyes tracing every motion as he goes. Like. Come on. Of course you’re crushing on him.)

(Just a little bit, though. Just a little bit. It’s just an itty bitty crush. A teeny weeny crush.)

The bell above the door chimes. Your kneejerk reaction is to snap your head over to see who it is—but you hold it together, instead letting your head turn at a normal, natural pace. It’s just an unfamiliar woman, rearranging the tassels of her long scarf with one hand and holding her phone with the other as the door swings shut, and you deflate.

(... It’s a small crush, you swear. It’s not like this is around the normal time Yoongi appears and you’d thought it was going to be him. Nope. Definitely not that.)

As the woman lingers near the counter, eyes flicking between her phone and the chalkboard menu on the wall above your head, Taehyung finishes licking the panettone crumbs off his fingers.

“It’s Tuesday,” he states solemnly.

“I know?”

“It’s just past two o’clock,” he continues.

“I know,” you repeat, glancing at him quizzically. “You told me what the time was less than five minutes ago.”

“I did.”

The bell chimes again. This time, a gaggle of giggling girls come bubbling into the café, cutting you off before you can ask what Taehyung is trying to say. You go to flick your cloth at him before thinking better of it, not wanting to rain dark roast everywhere.

“Go wash your hands,” you say, just as the scarfed woman approaches the counter, ready to order. A bright smile splits your face, voice rising into its usual peppy Customer Service tone. “Hi, welcome to Paradise! How can I help you today?”

She barely glances up from her phone as she orders, asking for a latte macchiato and croissant, a distracted ‘no thanks’ when you ask if she’s interested in this week’s special. Oh well. The girls behind her, though, all seem incredibly excited when they catch wind of it; they all eagerly listen as you describe what a Crystal Snow is, your eyes lighting up as you mime piping the cream and dusting the sugar on top, laughing when they ask if they can buy extra sugar sticks to take home, because of course they can, you’d be happy to do that for them, would they like those in to-go bags? Yes, the bags are cute, aren’t they, the snowflakes are lovely, you agree.

Taehyung’s just finished wiping the steam wand when you give him the next order. You see the way his face crumples before his brows lift and his lips purse, pleading as he looks at you with big eyes, and you just roll your own eyes affectionately.

“Yes, yes, I’ll make them even though you’re meant to be on the bar, it’s fine,” you say, and Taehyung’s whole face lights up.

You’ve worked with Taehyung long enough by now to know that it takes him until at least Wednesday to memorise how to make whatever that week’s special is. And there’s not a queue, so you don’t mind taking over, pulling espresso shots and steaming milk and pouring everything together, puffing air in Taehyung’s face when he peers at your cream swirling technique. (No matter how many times you’ve tried to teach him, he’s never been able to get it right, usually just farting a mess of cream out of the nozzle and hoping for the best. Results are… mixed.) Maybe the flourish you put into dusting the sugar on top is unnecessary, but, hey. It’s fun. You smile to yourself as you give a small flick of the wrist over each drink, powdered sugar floating down like snow, and, done.

You don’t like to toot your own horn but the drinks come out Instagram perfect, each latte glass set on a tiny napkin on a saucer, sugar stick on one side, and you take a moment to admire your work.

“They’re so pretty,” Taehyung says, and your smile grows wider.

The girls all agree, cooing over the drinks in a way that only makes your smile grow even more, wide on your face. You watch as they squirrel themselves away in a corner, talking and laughing and nibbling their food and sipping at their drinks, pleased at the way their eyes widen at the first taste.

Yeah, it’s the small things that makes your time here good. Being a barista is a thankless job most of the time, as relaxed as Paradise usually is, so you try to appreciate the small things. Like having fun when you make a drink, for example. Making nice customers happy. (Having cute regulars that you can quietly ogle.)

Actually, on the note of cute regulars—

“Your 2:15 appointment is here.”

You tear your attention away from the table of girls at the sound of Taehyung’s voice. “My what—?”

There’s someone in front of the glass display, hunched as they slowly and quietly peruse the selection of pastries and food inside—and you realise with a jolt that it’s Yoongi. You have no idea how long he’s been there, so distracted with patting yourself on the back for making a few nice drinks; oh, God, what if Yoongi had seen your pleased expression? Do you look smug? You probably look smug. Great, now he probably thinks that you’re a self-obsessed clown, honking your nose like some sort of narcissist.

“You’re spiralling,” Taehyung points out mildly, voice low enough that Yoongi doesn't hear.

His surprisingly perceptive comment snaps you out of aforementioned spiralling, and after shaking yourself off, you glance over at him. “Why didn’t you serve him?”

He shrugs. “He didn’t seem like he wanted to be served so I just left him to it.”

To be fair to Taehyung, he’s not wrong. Yoongi is staring intently at a slice of carrot cake—even if he’s never ordered any before—and it’s not until you move to your usual spot behind the till that his attention finally rises, meeting your gaze with his deep, dark eyes.

Your inner schoolgirl feels like she needs to sit down. Your entire stomach and chest is a looping mess of frantic butterflies after making eye contact with the cute boy who you’re crushing on, but you’ve got a great poker face; you’ve worked as a barista long enough that you’re good at shoving your real feelings down, none of your internal turmoil playing across your face as you smile. Customer service mode activate.

“Hi, and welcome back to Paradise. What can I get for you today? The usual? Large Americano, to go, for Yoongi?”

You’re a little softer than you would be with other customers, a little more subdued, dialing down how upbeat you normally are to match Yoongi’s level. His lips lift almost imperceptibly, the faintest smile playing across his mouth, and it takes all your strength for your knees to not immediately buckle.

“Hi,” he says. His voice is soft and low, faintest drawl at the end of his words, and yep, just your weekly reminder that you’re enamoured with him. Cool. “Yes, please, that would be great.”

He already has his card ready, you know he does. He always does; card to pay, loyalty card to swipe, tip to drop in the jar, quick and smooth and easy. This is normally where you’d rattle off the price—as if he doesn’t already know what it is—but you pause, thinking about how intent he’d been on the pastry display, as uncharacteristic as that is.

“Did you… want something to eat, too? I couldn’t, um, help noticing that you were eyeing up the carrot cake?”

Yoongi blinks, wispy lashes fluttering. You can see the muted surprise that flashes across his face, and you wonder if you’ve misstepped, thrown off the usual rhythm of his visit. It’s an unusual step away from your regular script, an ad-lib that he wasn’t expecting.

“Uh, no, thank you,” he says. “Maybe… next time.”

He’s polite as ever, thankfully. You’re not surprised at his answer but you do have to wonder why he was looking at the cake so closely if he hadn’t planned on getting anything; you know he likes getting served by you the most, if the evidence over the months means anything at all, but you don’t think he’d stare at cake just so he would avoid Taehyung. You’re making assumptions based on the fact he just drinks black coffee and literally nothing else, but you’ve guessed he doesn’t have a sweet tooth. (The only time he’s ever ordered food had been two months prior when he’d asked for a single croissant, and nothing since. Taehyung still talks about the croissant sometimes.)

Well, it doesn't really matter. If he doesn't want cake, you're not going to force it on him, and the rest of the transaction goes as normal. Yoongi hands over his rewards card, fingers long and knuckles knobbly and altogether lovely, pays for his Americano—made by Taehyung, cup wrapped in the sleeve that you’ve written Yoongi’s name on, black sharpie bleeding into the cardboard—and smiles at you both when Taehyung hands it to him across the smooth wood of the counter.

“Thanks.” He gives you that slight tilt of his head that he always does, and you smile helplessly back.

He’s a gentleman, through and through, even if he looks as distant as ever; dressed in all black, his ripped jeans the only splash of lightness in his dark outfit. Maybe you’re biased, but no matter what he wears, he looks stylish, somehow. It’s something in his aura. All cool understated elegance and power.

And here you are, in your cream jumper under the dark mulberry apron of your uniform, a flower blooming next to the name on your badge. All chirpy customer service, smiling broad and wide as you go through the same motions over and over with each new person that comes in. Sometimes you wonder what Yoongi thinks of you, as different as you are to him, but at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter—because he keeps coming back, doesn’t he?

“Have a nice day,” you say as he turns to go, and when he glances over his shoulder and says you too, smile soft and eyes softer, you know he really means it.

(And if your eyes always trail after him once his back has turned, who’s telling?)

“You’re staring.” Taehyung’s telling, apparently.

You tear your eyes away from Yoongi, bell tinkling as the door swings shut behind him. “He’s my favourite customer,” you say. As if that explains why you were staring.

“You’ve barely spoken to him.”

“He’s my favourite customer,” you say again, emphatically. “He comes in, he gets the world’s simplest drink to make, is always polite, always leaves a tip, and he goes. Literally the perfect customer.”

“Alright, true,” he says, as if he hadn’t considered that before now. “Cute, too.”

You sigh. A little wistful. “Yeah,” you say. “Yeah, he is.”

Taehyung opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something else when someone spills their drink on their floor with an unholy clattering sound, even if nothing breaks; without saying anything, both you and Taehyung raise your hands, eyes narrowing at each other.

"Rock, paper, scissors," you chant. Taehyung promptly loses, and the pout that forms on his lips doesn't disappear until he's finished mopping everything up.

(“Why do I always end up having to clean spillages?”

“Because you never win rock-paper-scissors. You always choose scissors, Taehyung. You literally always choose scissors.”)

The tradition of the weekly specials at Paradise is a weird one, truth be told. Each Monday whoever’s on the opening shift will enter the coffee shop and find that the board on the wall has been updated, the recipe typed up and laminated, waiting on the counter for the baristas. You all assume it’s the mysterious owner, who no one has ever seen, and no one even knows the name of, apparently.

“Someone has to know their name,” you’d said, once, back when you’d first started, only to receive a shrugs from everyone.

“I heard one of the old baristas say the owner’s name was Jackson,” Taehyung had said, and you’d just blinked at him.

“Huh?” you’d said, but Jimin had rolled his eyes and told you to ignore him, so you had.

This week’s drink is the Marshmallow World. As always, when you and Taehyung start your shift together, you read the recipe and follow it step by step to learn how to make it. Warmed milk, vanilla syrup, topped off with marshmallow fluff instead of whipped cream—not bad in theory, if you like sweet things, although it does pose one significant problem.

“It’s clogged my hole,” Taehyung says sadly.

You sputter on your own drink, desperately hacking your lungs out as you try to stop milk from going down your windpipe. “I’m-sorry-it’s-what,” you wheeze all at once, struggling for air.

Taehyung tilts his takeaway cup at you, gesturing at the lid. (All the mugs are still out back or on a rinse cycle so laziness had forced you to make do.) “My drink hole. It’s blocked,” he explains. “The fluff is getting in the way.”

So, yeah. It clogs people’s holes, apparently. But other than that, you have to admit it’s pretty nice, and if you drink it in the café (and thus out of a mug) then you’re fine. You just get into the habit of warning the customers if they order it to go and laugh about it with them and it’s all fine and dandy and everyone is happy.

It’s starting to get busier, now. The nights are getting longer and the days are getting colder and everyone’s starting to think about Christmas, which feels both close and far away, all at once. Close, because you still have presents to buy and there’s never enough time for it; and far, because the lights have yet to go up and Christmas songs aren’t dominating the radio yet and you have yet to experience the real winter rush. Students home for the holidays and families out to see Father Christmas and workers grabbing Secret Santa gifts, everyone desperate for something warm and soothing, hot and comforting in the face of the snow which has yet to fall.

But there’s something in the air, that cool hush that lets you know it’s nearly here—the changing of the seasons, the burnt sunset colours of autumn melting into the iced blues and greys of winter. No matter if you prefer hot or cold weather, there’s something about the beauty of wintertime that’s undeniable.

And it’s a lot easier to sell something like the Marshmallow World on a day like this, the nip in the air almost solid, biting cold into the apples of your cheeks, nibbling at fingers that are so cold they feel frost-bitten. Once again, your genuine enthusiasm shines through, persuading people to give the drink a go, happy to add a shot of espresso for whoever needs it, desperate for caffeine to buoy them up through the day.

You’ve just finished laughing with a lovely old couple, wearing matching scarves and hats—awwww—waving them goodbye as they go to sit down, when you come face to face with Yoongi, blindsided by his sudden appearance. You’d been so caught up, once again, too busy giggling your way through the conversation with your other customers, able to persuade them to try one special to share alongside everything else they’ve ordered.

“Oh. Uh. Hi,” you say. Your hand is still by your face after you’d given the couple a cute wave, and when you realise, you freeze. Flustered. Behind you, Taehyung is struggling to spoon the marshmallow fluff neatly on the vanilla steamer, making small noises of distress, but you’re too caught up in your own distress to really notice.

Once again, you have no idea how long Yoongi’s been there. You’re slipping. You’re normally aware of him as soon as he steps into the coffee shop. (You know, because you’re always aware of when a new customer steps in. Like any good barista would be.) Had he witnessed you enthusiastically waving your hands and talking about marshmallows and s'mores? Seen the way you'd grinned and laughed as you'd gotten excited over the weekly special, yet again?

Well, if he had, he doesn't seem perturbed at all. His usual smile is on his face, though you would swear it seems a little softer around the edges, almost fond.

“Hi,” he says, and… that’s it.

There’s no addition of his usual that would be great, and that’s when you realise you haven’t asked about his coffee. In fact, your fingers are still curled near your chin, almost like a claw. You clear your throat and let your arm fall to your side, fiddling with the tie of your apron.

“Hi,” you repeat. Flounder for a second. Try to remember your usual line. “Large Americano?”

“Y/n.” Taehyung whines your name from the bar, loud enough that it catches your attention. “The marshmallow isn’t staying. Why do you keep recommending Marshmallow World? Why must I suffer through this torture? Every day I wake up and I make coffee—”

“Sorry, sir, one second,” you say, face scrunching in apology at Yoongi.

“It's just Yoongi,” he replies, gentle, and your heart thuds in your chest. "You don't have to call me sir."

Your face feels warm. "Um, okay, Yoongi." You've said his name before, of course, said it dozens of times to confirm his order, but never like this—by invitation from the man himself, an acknowledgement of familiarity.

Taehyung makes another noise. Yoongi's expression turns into one of faint amusement, eyes drifting over your shoulder to your friend; when you turn around, you can see why.

The other barista’s managed to get marshmallow fluff all over the edge of the glass, on the handle of the cup, all the way up the spoon, on his fingers—everywhere except on the drink itself. It’s funny, in a sad sort of way.

“Wow.” You have no idea how he managed it, but you’re here to help. “Alright, go wash your hands, Tae. I’ve got this.”

The cup is a goner. There’s no way you’ll be able to wipe off the sticky marshmallow. You’re acutely aware of Yoongi at the counter, able to watch your every move, but then you get distracted as you salvage Taehyung's attempt at a Marshmallow World. You just feel grateful that it’s a steamer so you can pour it into a new glass, not having to worry about layers of coffee and milk and foam; it’s a pretty easy fix. Good. (You don’t want to keep Yoongi waiting, as patient as he may be.)

It doesn’t take long to spoon the marshmallow on, whipped peaks in the sticky white, and by the time Taehyung returns you’re ready to present him with the picture perfect drink, not a single lick of fluff anywhere it shouldn’t be. You've got your hands on your hips as you survey your work proudly, and Taehyung sticks his tongue out at you.

“Witchcraft,” he says, and you laugh.

“You’re welcome,” you say. “Alright, shoo, go take this over to the table before they start wondering where it is.”

When you turn back, Yoongi’s watching you. Contemplative. You tamp down the flush that threatens to spill onto your cheeks, face burning, but before you can say anything, he speaks.

“Was that the weekly special?”

You blink. Blindsided. Yoongi’s never asked about the special before, never commented on the A-frame outside, the sign on the wall that sits next to the regular menu. No surprise there—why would someone who only drinks Americanos want to drink ninety-nine percent of the weekly specials you offer? “Um, yeah,” you say. “We’ve got the Marshmallow World this week.”

“Would you recommend it?”

You can’t help it. You light up. You love when customers ask for recommendations, and the fact that it’s Yoongi—whose blood must be made of coffee at this point—who’s asking about it? Americano Yoongi, asking about something without caffeine? Black coffee Yoongi, asking about a weekly special that’s nothing but sugar and sweetness? Something inside you switches on, a Christmas tree, all flashing lights and shimmering tinsel and excitement.

“Oh, if you like sweeter drinks, absolutely! It’s great for a cold day like today,” you gush. Maybe you should reel it in, far more exuberant than you usually are with Yoongi, but. You can’t stop. “It’s warm milk and vanilla, so it’s a lovely comfort drink, and we can add a shot of espresso too if you were wanting a little pick-me-up. And then you’ve got marshmallow fluff on top for some extra self-indulgence. We were meant to, uh, toast the top, actually, but we don’t have the necessary health and safety clearance for blowtorches. I guess you could do that at home if you really wanted to. Everyone likes toasted marshmallows, right?”

Yoongi hums, and you wonder if you’ve maybe gotten ahead of yourself. Oversold it. Maybe he was asking out of curiosity. Just because he’s asking about it doesn’t mean that he wants one—

“Can I get a Marshmallow World, please? Large, to go?”

—or maybe Yoongi is an official convert to the world of sweet drinks, changing after a lifetime of drinking unadorned, unadulterated black coffee. Holy shit. Holy shit? Holy—

“And a large Americano to go, too, please.”

(Record scratch. Freeze frame.

Yoongi of-the-black-coffee is ordering his usual drink, and another. Both large. Too much for one person to reasonably drink before one of them got cold. He’s not ordering for one person; he’s ordering for two people. Of course Yoongi wouldn’t order something as heart-stopping as the Marshmallow World—not for himself, anyway.

Mental maths. Two plus two is four, four plus four is eight; one large Americano and one Marshmallow World is two people. Yoongi and one other person is two people, a couple of people, a couple—

Oh, God.

A couple.

You’ve been crushing on a taken man.

You know how they say your life flashes before your eyes before you die? It’s sort of like that, but rather than remembering your life, you immediately recall every moment over the months where you’ve looked at him or thought about him with even the smallest iota of longing and you want to crawl under the counter and never come out.

You feel weirdly guilty. Like… like you’re some sort of unintentional homewrecker. Even though, you know, you thought Yoongi was single and you haven’t made a single move on him and nor had you had any plans to. The guilt bubbles up inside you anyway.

All at once, you feel immensely, incredibly embarrassed. Of course he’s taken. There’s no way he wouldn’t be, as attractive and nice as he is, and you’ve just been sat here crushing on him like a big dumb idiot.

You are the worst.)

You manage to squeeze this internal breakdown into the span of a few seconds. You’re grateful that you have your customer service face locked on, giving nothing away—from the outside the smile looks just like that, a smile, rather than the rictus of deathly mortification it actually is, burning through you like a wildfire.

Yoongi seems none the wiser, just patiently waiting for some sort of acknowledgement of his order. Most of your brain power is still taken up with the mish-mash of humiliation and guilt that’s roiling through you. Luckily, though, the part of your brain that’s still in the moment (trying to drag you back to the real world, shame-faced as you are) forces you to move before things get weird.

“One large Americano, one large Marshmallow World, both to go.” You tap the drinks into the till on auto-pilot, dimly noting that Taehyung’s been pulled into conversation with the old couple at their table, having delivered their drinks and food to them. It’s just you behind the counter, no one else to man the coffee machines. “Let me get those started for you.”

Luckily, making the drinks means you can turn your back to Yoongi, oscillating through the five stages of grief as you fiddle with hot milk and coffee grounds and paper cups. You always take pride in your work—especially when it comes to Yoongi—and you take even more pride now, determined to make these drinks as lovely as they can be. His Americano is fairly simple, but the Marshmallow World requires a bit more finesse, and you lavish attention on the fluff, swirling it beautifully, even though you know it’ll stick to the lid anyway.

(Okay, listen. Whoever this person Yoongi is seeing must be as nice as he is. They both deserve nice drinks.)

There’s something sweet about it, actually. Before the lids go on, you spent a second staring down at the drinks and the juxtaposition between them; black coffee and white marshmallow, bitter and sweet, night and day. It’s lovely, really, these two opposing things coming together. You wonder what Yoongi’s partner is like. Exuberant and bright, rather than his subdued warmth? A balance, yin and yang, opposite but complementary.

(Isn’t that a nice thing to think about? Finding someone who’s different to you but matches you so well?)

You firmly press the lids into place, making sure they’re secure. The protective cardboard sleeve of Yoongi’s Americano has his name—the name you’ve memorised, written out countless times—while the Marshmallow World has a scrawled happy face, and an enjoy! on it, for this mysterious person who likes sweet drinks. You do sincerely hope they enjoy it. You really do.

“The fluff blocks the hole,” you warn, sliding the cardboard tray for both drinks carefully across the counter. “It’s probably a better idea to just take the lid off.”

Something flickers across Yoongi’s face, too fast for you to identify. But then he nods, lifting the tray up with equally careful hands. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says.

He’s always polite to everyone, Taehyung and the other baristas, but he seems to smile at you the most. He’s smiling at you now, curling at the corners of his lips, and you smile back, fighting through ten layers of embarrassment and self-inflicted shame to do so. Just because he smiles at you the most doesn’t mean anything. You can smile at people and not have it be weird; it doesn’t mean you return their ill-fated attraction.

Why, oh why, oh why.

By the time Taehyung returns to the counter, having escaped the chatty, kind clutches of the elderly couple, Yoongi is long gone. Your fellow barista finds you crouched down in front one of the cupboards with your head in your hands.

“Y/n?” He sounds incredibly concerned. “Are you okay? Do you have a headache? Are you sick?”

You let out a quiet noise, a mix between a whale dying and a hippo trying to swallow porridge, muffled into your palms. “I’m such a doughnut,” you say. “Just an absolute doughnut.”

Taehyung crouches beside you. “A glazed doughnut or a jam doughnut?”

Your hands drop away from your face as you think. “Plain,” you say, eventually. “Unglazed. No toppings or fillings.” A little sad and disappointing. It seems fitting.

Taehyung puts a hand on your shoulder, warm and comforting. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You feel embarrassed all over again, thinking about admitting your (now-squashed) crush to your friend. It was stupid in the first place, crushing on a customer, especially as you’d barely spoken to him; Yoongi might be cute, and nice, but your crush was silly and dumb and you’d been silly and dumb not to think that he was already in a relationship.

“I’m fine,” you say. “Just going through it. And by ‘it’ I mean life generally, you know?”

Taehyung makes a noise of understanding, patting your shoulder. “Big mood,” he says sombrely. He always knows what to say, empathetic to a fault.

“Uh,” a customer says, craning over the counter to see the two of you. “Sorry to interrupt, but can I get a refill on my coffee, please?”

That effectively kills the conversation, which is good. Keep yourself busy and distracted. By the time you see Yoongi next week, this crush will be dead and gone and you’ll be fine. Just fine. Absolutely fine.

He’s dyed his hair.

It’s a Tuesday afternoon, the café is full of people, and Yoongi has dyed his hair.

You’d spent all of last Tuesday alternating between all-consuming guilt and embarrassment, Taehyung catching you with your head in your hands in one moment and furiously cleaning the steam wand the next, channeling your tumult of emotions into anything that will distract you.

It had worked. Mostly. You’ve had a week’s worth of time since, to get over this month’s long crush, your brain consistently reminding you that Yoongi is in a relationship, with someone who’s probably lovely and attractive and all around just wonderful (just like him). You remind yourself about this every time you find coffee grounds under your nails, or notice milk flecked on your apron, soured and off-white after a day of work; your life isn’t a meet-cute, and you’re not the cute barista who falls in love with the cute regular. You’re the tired barista who makes more cups of coffee in a day than most people probably drink in a year, and Yoongi is the cute regular who’s already in a long term relationship and comes to Paradise just because he likes the dark roast you use. That’s as far as it will go, because this is real life, and not a romance film or novel. (Even if you wished that it was.)

You’ve come to terms with it. Really, you have. But then he has to step into the coffee shop looking like that, his hair bleached so blond it almost looks white, silver hoops in his ears, and he’s still dressed in dark clothes but he’s wearing glasses, no, this isn’t a drill, Yoongi’s dyed his hair, he’s all light and dark, soft and sharp, and you want to crouch behind the counter again. Because he looks so good and of course he’s in a relationship because he’s hot, and you feel dumb for not having realised it sooner.

You can’t hide behind the counter, though. There’s a queue of people, all waiting for your attention and your time, and it’s still just you and Taehyung; none of your usual Christmas temps are back yet, still away at uni, hence the we’re hiring! posters that are up for all the customers to see (and mostly ignore). The seasons are changing and the weeks are passing and the really eager people are starting to think about Christmas shopping; you swear you don’t even need a calendar, able to trace how close you are to Christmas just based on the amount of foot traffic the coffee shop gets. You’re definitely hitting peak.

But it’s fine. You have this down to a fine art. You and Taehyung are both good on the till and scarily efficient at making drinks and plating food, dancing past each other with an ease that only comes with time spent working together and friendship alongside.

People aren’t ordering the weekly special as much, either, not today. You can’t blame them. Candy Cane Dreams is a white hot chocolate, flavoured with mint and coloured green, topped with whipped cream and sprinkles of candy cane bark and red and green drizzle too; it’s… pretty overwhelming. So it means you don’t have to take over for Taehyung from the bar, focusing on smiling at customers and soothing them after their wait, taking their orders and shuffling them along as quickly as you can. You keep a smile plastered on your face as Taehyung pulls espresso shots and grabs tea bags and heats milk, routine and familiar.

When Yoongi steps up to the counter, you’ve barely had time to mentally prepare yourself, so focused on serving everyone else in the queue; it feels like a slap to the face, a kick to the knees, but then you take one deep breath and exhale. Long, deep, slow, forcing air out of your lungs and thoughts out of your mind, and you smile.

You’ve been so careful up until this point, wanting to keep Yoongi happy, wary of misstepping—but he’s just a regular customer. You feel more confident, now, less worried about breaking this tenuous thing you thought you’d had; less worried about what you’re doing being construed as some weird, roundabout way of flirting, because. You know. He’s in a relationship, so it doesn’t matter either way. He’s definitely not interested. You can talk to him like you would anyone else.

So you say: “You dyed your hair.”

And, just like you suspected, Yoongi doesn’t seem bothered that you’ve broken your usual script. “Oh, yeah.” He reaches up, touches his head, as if he’d forgotten. “I did.”

“It looks nice,” you continue, because it does.

He’s smiling back at you. He looks pleased; maybe a little bashful, even, as surprising as that is. “Thanks,” he says, warm and genuine. (The tiny gremlin of a crush that’s still lurking in your soul lets out a wistful sigh.) “Can I get a large Americano and a—” he squints at the board— “large Candy Cane Dream, please?”

(One plus one is two, Yoongi and his other half, the sugar to his coffee.)

“Sure!” Your voice is bright. “I’m guessing the Marshmallow World went over well?”

There’s a brief beat of silence, but you don’t notice, too focused on typing Yoongi’s order into the till.

“Yeah, it was great,” he says after that moment of quiet, and you smile. Good. You’re glad they enjoyed it.

“I’m really happy to hear that,” you say, genuine and bright.

“What’s actually in the, ah, Candy Cane Dreams?” Yoongi asks, and you laugh, leaning forward conspiratorially.

“It’s horrendous,” you say in a low voice, as if you’re sharing a secret. “Have you ever seen green hot chocolate before?”

You’ve never spoken to Yoongi like this, easy and light, and it’s… nice. He gives no indication of surprise at your sudden friendliness after months of barely talking. If anything he looks pleased, and at one point he even gives you a smile you’ve never seen before, wide and wonderful, flashing his teeth and gums. (The crush gremlin rattles at your ribcage like prison bars, trying desperately to escape, but you don’t give it a chance.)

“Alright, let me just swap with the other barista, he’s still not gotten the Candy Cane Dreams recipe down.”

You hear a suspicious crunch as you make your way over to Taehyung. He turns to you with a guilty smile, edged with sugar, munching on shards of candy cane while his back is to the customers.

“You’re terrible,” you say affectionately. “Go take over on the till, I have a special to make.”

Taehyung glances over, sees Yoongi making his way down to the collection point. “Huh. Alright.”

The Candy Cane Dreams recipe might be a questionable one, but it’s definitely fun to make (watching the white hot chocolate turn green makes you feel like a kid all over again, mixing shampoos together in your bathroom and calling them potions), and maybe you’re overly generous with the candy cane bark, giving Yoongi’s beau more to nibble on and enjoy. It’s not Christmas yet but you’re already in a giving mood, so sue you.

“Here you go.” You slide the drinks towards him, the man busy reading one of the vacancy fliers, eyes flicking away from the poster when you appear. Your lips quirk up. “Looking for a job?”

You’re expecting a huff of a laugh, a small shake of the head, but he answers you seriously. “Not me, but I have a friend who is,” he says, reaching to take the tray.

You realise your hands are still curled around the cardboard; you quickly pull away so that there’s no chance your hands will brush. (You might have shoved your crush down as far as it will go, but you have to be careful with your weak, gooey heart.)

“We could do with any help, honestly. Your friend is more than welcome to apply.” You glance over at the queue, which is small but ever present, and you know it’ll only get worse as time goes on. “And, hey, if you ever decide for a change of pace from whatever it is you do, we’d be glad to have you, too.”

This gets a laugh from him, a warm burst of sound. (The gremlin points out that this is the first time you’ve heard him laugh, really laugh, a little raspy and a little quiet and altogether lovely; you beat the gremlin back with a stick.) “I’m better at drinking coffee than I am at making it,” Yoongi says, eyes soft with lingering amusement. “I’ll leave that to the experts.”

You might have gone off script, but the nod he gives you is his usual one, that familiar tilt of the head. “See you next week?” His eyes are dark, dark and deep, and it’s so hard not to fall into them, to fall all over again.

“See you next week,” you echo, hoping the smile you plaster on your face doesn’t look as forced as it feels, as you struggle once more. Yoongi is just nice, okay? He's just being nice, but still. He needs to let a girl breathe.

(He needs to let the gremlin of her crush wither away, instead of making it threaten to come back as strong as before, fuelled by his smile and his eyes and his everything.)

(... maybe you’re not as over this crush as you thought you were.)

It seems like the we’re hiring! posters actually worked.

“I’m Jungkook,” says the new starter, all crooked smiles and warm eyes and thighs so thick they threaten to split the trousers of the café’s uniform, ties of his apron emphasising his small waist.

(“Good lord,” Taehyung says faintly.)

It’s the last week of November and even though Jungkook is still learning the ropes, he’s a massive help, and you know he’ll be a lifesaver over Christmas. He’s eager, learns quickly, and gets stuck right in, material of his shirt straining across his shoulder blades when he rips a bag of coffee beans open with his bare hands, rather than having to use scissors like you or Taehyung.

Taehyung watches with stars in his eyes as Jungkook pours the beans into the grinder. You cover your smile by sipping at one of the espresso shots Jungkook has pulled—full-bodied and dark, rich in your mouth.

“This is really good, Jungkook,” you say. He looks over, eyes squeezing into a smile.

“Thought it would be,” he says, and you can’t help but huff a laugh into the tiny espresso cup. He’s cocky and competitive, telling you that he’d never made coffee before but he was going to do a better job than any of the other baristas here. He’s too endearing to come across as arrogant, though, and you have to admit that the coffee is good. (Not as good as yours or Taehyung’s, of course, but still. Pretty good.)

Taehyung coos at him and reaches out to shamelessly squeeze his bicep. “Jungkookie is a natural barista.”

Jungkook’s cocky smile turns equal parts pleased and flustered. You continue to sip at the espresso as Taehyung moons over him, then the bell above the door rings, and the mooning temporarily is put on hold. (Temporarily, because Taehyung continues to moon over him for the rest of the shift, insisting on doing the bulk of his training, which is fine by you.)

It’s the 1st of December tomorrow, so not only do you have to clean after the café is locked up, you have to put out all the Christmas decorations, too. But it’s more fun that it is work, the three of you dragging the tree out of the storage room and decorating it with a menagerie of tinsel and baubles; Jungkook lifts Taehyung so he can get the star on the tree, wrapping his arms around Taehyung’s waist and hoisting him up effortlessly, leaving your friend with a pleased smile on his face.

Jungkook is new, only on his second shift, but he’s slotted in so easily. He laughs at Taehyung when he wiggles his butt along to the Christmas songs you've put on to play, and he helps steady the stepladder as you string garlands of snowflakes on the ceiling, even if he doesn’t really need to.

He absently readjusts the reindeer headband Taehyung had unearthed from the storage room and proudly placed on his head. “Yoongi-hyung talks a lot about this place,” Jungkook comments, offhand.

If you’d heard this a few weeks ago, you probably would have fallen off the stepladder, inner gremlin grabbing your heart with both hands and squeezing tight-tight-tight. As it is you only pause for a moment, one of the larger snowflakes cradled in your palm, before you go back to your job of hanging them up.

“So you’re the friend he mentioned that needed a job,” you say.

“That’s me.” Jungkook grins, boyish and bright, and you laugh. “He really, really likes this café. Wouldn’t shut up about it, even before he told me that you were hiring.”

You can’t imagine Yoongi gushing about a café to his friends, but then again, he clearly is passionate about his coffee. Jungkook will know him better than you, having a real friendship rather than this patron-and-customer back-and-forth that you’ve had, so who are you to imagine what’s normal for Yoongi and what isn’t? You didn’t even know he was in a relationship, after all. You don’t know anything about the guy, really.

“Well, we appreciate his custom,” you say. “I know Yoongi is the one who actually comes in, but you can thank his other half, too, and I hope they enjoy their drinks as well.”

You’re too busy hanging the garland to see the way Jungkook’s face twists.

“Huh?”

“You know. Yoongi always comes in for his Americano and the weekly special for his partner,” you say.

You’re focused on stepping down the ladder without falling to see the expression on Jungkook’s face, nose scrunched and lips pursed, like there’s something he’s smelled that he really doesn’t like.

“Did he say that to you? That it was for someone else?”

“Hm?” You pause in grabbing another string of snowflakes, glancing up. “Oh, no, I just worked it out, you know? Yoongi is a religious coffee drinker, why else would he order something that’s basically hot sugar water? I think it’s cute,” you add, belatedly. “That he always comes in to grab something for them, too.”

(You wish you had someone to do that for you.)

There’s a beat of silence. Jungkook’s holding the stepladder, ready to move it, staring at you in a way that’s weirdly intense. “I see,” he says, like that isn’t weird or mysterious at all.

Then he drags the stepladder’s rubber feet across the floor with such a loud noise that Taehyung startles, bauble falling out of his hand and shattering. Jungkook, of course, profusely apologises and insists on cleaning it up—but not before making sure Taehyung is okay, of course, grabbing his hands and looking over them, as if the bauble had broken in his palms and not the floor.

Taehyung looks immensely pleased. You just smile quietly to yourself, roll your eyes lightly, and go back to hanging snowflakes as Jungkook speaks to Taehyung, soft and low.

You think your favourite thing about training a new starter is witnessing their reaction to the weekly special.

“So,” Jungkook says, slowly. “You put in the whole gingerbread man—gumdrops and icing and all—and just blend it?

“Yep.” Taehyung’s reply is cheery. “Straight in and whizz it all up.”

This week, it’s You Can’t Catch Me, I’m the Gingerbread Frappé which is a) probably the longest name known to mankind and b) probably the most questionable name known to mankind and c) who orders a frappé in December?

These thoughts are clearly playing across Jungkook’s face as Taehyung coaxes him to drop the gingerbread man into the blender, and you’re too busy enjoying the consternation on Jungkook’s face to notice someone stepping up to the counter—until they clear their throat, that is, and you all turn.

“Hi,” Yoongi says.

“Oh! Hi,” Taehyung says.

“Hyung! Look!” Jungkook says.

“Jungkook, wait—” you say.

“Whirr,” the lidless blender says.

It’s chaos. Frappé ends up everywhere, splattered over the counter and the floor, splashed across the wine-red aprons of both of your fellow baristas, as close to the blender as they were—saving you from any of the sugary fallout, unwitting human shields.

There’s a beat of silence, where you all stare at each other—

And then Yoongi laughs.

You’ve never seen Yoongi laugh this loudly, eyes squeezed so hard you wonder if he can even see, almost cackling as he laughs at Jungkook’s expression, joyful and loud and free. It’s another dimension to him, another new part you witness as Jungkook wipes gingerbread and ice off his face and Taehyung stares at the mess spattered across his hands and arms.

It makes you think of a paper crane. Yoongi is this unfinished thing in your mind, each new thing you learn about him another fold that you add, a flat sheet of paper turned into something entirely and wholly new. You wish that it weren’t so alluring, watching it come together, finding out more and more about this man you’ve technically known for months, but only recently started to get to know.

(You wish that it wasn’t so easy to keep falling for him.)

Once the counter is cleaned, both Jungkook and Taehyung retreat to replace their aprons, leaving you—once again—alone with Yoongi. He’d stopped laughing to tease Jungkook, to gently rib him, but you can see the smile that’s etched on his face, the echoes of mirth written across all his features.

“We usually train the baristas to keep the lid on, I swear,” you say, and Yoongi’s face splits into another smile.

“I was going to say that it’s an unorthodox blending technique,” and you can’t help but smile back at this, even if you’ve been trying not to laugh. Professionalism barely wins out, your lips trembling as you try to hold your giggling back, but Yoongi spots it anyway, looking pleased, like he’s accomplished something by getting you to (nearly) laugh.

You’re not laughing when you have to make one of the special frappés, though. You stare at the gingerbread man as you hold him above the blender, at his cheery iced face and his cute little buttons (not the gumdrop buttons), and brace yourself to drop him.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, and let him go, before quickly slamming the lid on top and turning the blender on so you don’t have to look at the betrayal you’ve just committed.

When you turn, Yoongi has an expression of sympathy on his face; for you or the gingerbread man, you can’t tell, but his face smooths the second he notices you looking at him, blinking innocently, as if there’s nothing unusual going on. It’s disarming, seeing that expression on his face, when you’d gotten used to seeing him act more reserved, but it’s cute.

(It is cute, whether you’re crushing on him or not. It’s just a statement of fact, okay? It’s nothing more than that. Even if that tiny gremlin of a crush still lives in your chest, scuffing its feet against your heart, reminding you of its presence when you least need it.)

(It digs its heels in when you put the frappé and Americano side by side, nestled snug in their cardboard tray. You slide it towards Yoongi and you’re a little too slow, fingers brushing his when he reaches for them; you’re surprised by how quickly he moves, how eager he seems to be reaching for his order, fingertips dragging across the back of your knuckles, and the gremlin kicks your heart, pulse rising just at that glancing touch. Even if you know it’s fruitless, useless, you can’t help but like Yoongi anyway.)

(“See you next week,” he says, and you can’t do anything but smile helplessly back.)

You normally love snow. You love waking up to the sight of it, pure and pristine white, adding another dimension to your familiar world—you love snowball fights and snowmen and snow angels, even if it all leaves you feeling cold, chilled right to the bone, nose running and hands freezing. The best part about winter is getting warm again, the season of throw blankets and hot water bottles, knitwear and scarves, tea and hot cocoa, all cosy and lovely and wonderful.

It’s a bit different when you have to work all day, though. You watch as the snow on the streets outside is threatened by the spray of salt and a thousand spinning car wheels and busy feet, ice turned to slush water; for now the snow is winning, though, and judging from the weather forecast, you think that’ll be the case for the rest of the day. You hope it lasts through to tomorrow, too; by the time you get home you’ll be too tired and it’ll be too dark to play in the snow, and it leaves you feeling disappointed and sad.

(Winter is lovely but it can be a hollow season, too, something about the leafless trees and fogged windows making everything feel like an empty dream.)

At least Paradise is warm, even if you’re cooped up inside, safe from the still-falling snow that keeps trying to turn the world into an untouched, frozen wonderland. It’s quiet in the coffee shop today. Only the bravest of people have ventured out into the not-a-blizzard-but-basically-a-blizzard, plastered against radiators and putting drinks to their faces, letting hot steam heat their cold cheeks.

It’s why you’re both surprised and unsurprised when Yoongi appears, bell chiming above his head as the door swings shut and he stamps his feet on the front mat, knocking snow off his boots. He somehow looks disgruntled and soft all at the same time, a royal blue beanie on his head forcing his fringe down to sit messily over his eyes, bundled up warm even if his face is scrunched up and his cheeks are red from the cold.

“I hate cold weather,” he tells you once he reaches the counter, gloves peeled off his fingers so he can reach for his wallet, his nose tinged pink as he sniffs.

You proffer him a box of tissues. “You look like you need it,” you say gently, and he smiles at you, a warm hearth in the cold winter.

“Thank you.” His voice is equally as gentle as yours, and something aches in your chest.

It’s just you behind the counter right now, so you take Yoongi’s order and make the drinks too—one large Americano and one large Latteggnog (a basic latte made with eggnog instead of milk, rich and thick and creamy), this week’s special: everyone’s favourite Christmas drink, but with a twist of coffee.

The quiet gives you time to think. Jungkook and Taehyung are out back, the older barista coming up with the most ridiculous excuses to take them away from the counter; you don’t mind that they’re taking the time ‘counting the coffee beans’, as deserted as the café is.

The café is practically empty and Yoongi hates the cold but here he is, venturing into the ice and snow to get this person he cares about the drink they want, because they’re that special to him. (You hope they realise how lucky they are.)

You’re normally okay being single. Don’t really think about it. But there’s something about today, this moment, that has you reflecting; Taehyung has this budding thing with Jungkook, Yoongi has this steady thing with his love, and here you are, by yourself, alone. It’s hard to summon up your usual energy, going through the motions as you make the drinks. You tilt your head forward, dusting nutmeg on the eggnog latte, watching the way the sprinkle of spice settles delicately and softly in the foam. No flourish, no flick of the wrist, not today.

(There’s two cups in front of you now, but later, when you’re home, there’s just going to be one. Yours. Yours, and no one else’s.)

(When you get home, you’re going to do what any self-respecting single person would do: order too much takeaway, rewatch The Good Place, get emotional over Eleanor and Chidi’s relationship—they’re so different but they’re so perfect for each other, why can’t you have that?—mope for a bit, rewatch The Princess Bride, get emotional over Westley and Buttercup—where’s your cute farmboy who saves you from an evil prince?—mope a bit more, before finally climbing into bed and hugging a pillow to your chest in the space of having someone else there. You know. Perfectly normal single person things.)

When you turn to Yoongi, drinks ready and raring to go, you’ve forced a Customer Service Smile onto your face. They say that just the act of smiling makes you happier, right? Maybe if you smile hard enough, you’ll cheer up, chasing away this sudden sadness that lingers in the back of your throat, scratching at your lungs like black ice.

“Here you go!” Your voice seems too loud for the quiet hush of the café, but you roll with it anyway. “Enjoy your drinks!”

Yoongi takes them from you, hands carefully cupped around the tray, but his eyes don’t leave your face. He doesn’t return your smile, as convincing as it should be (even Taehyung struggles to tell between your real smile and your work smile, sometimes); he stands for a moment, looking at you.

You think he’s about to say something when he clearly thinks better of it. He tilts his head, like he always does, but you’d swear his expression is tinged with concern. “Thanks,” he says. Pauses. “The roads are really icy. Get home safe, okay Y/n?”

Blink, blink. Your eyelashes flutter. You suddenly realise that he’s never said your name out loud, never had a need to, even if he must have known it all along from the badge on your chest. It sounds so good in his mouth, soft and safe.

“Oh,” you say, slow with surprise. “Thank you. I will. You, too.”

Yoongi nods again, as if to himself, before he turns to go.

He stops one more time before he goes. He stands at the open door, glances over his shoulder before he steps out, dark eyes meeting yours, as if checking that you’re still there, still tethered to the ground. Seems satisfied when he finds that you are. He gives you one last smile, all soft around the edges—that’s something you know intimately about Yoongi, that he’s soft through and through, even if he can look sharp, as cold as the ice outside—and then he goes, back into the falling snow to deliver a steaming sip of warmth into the hands of the person he loves.

(Your heart aches.)

It’s the week before Christmas. The whole world has that feeling it always does at this time of year—excited and bright, if a little frantic, the hanging lights in the city a backdrop to people’s last minute shopping, their breaths pluming out into the air as they rush around in the cold. The whole world feels full of life, that final push towards the end of the year; the hearth fire of Christmas before that weird in between before the new year, that held breath of potential, before the clock ticks over and the world is thrown into the next year.

Paradise has been busy. It’s like summer, only instead of sundresses and shorts, everyone is in knitwear and scarves, shivering as they wait to be served, desperate for a drink to warm them up, something to eat to fill their bellies. You spend more time in the coffee shop than you do at home, pulling overtime shifts to help your fellow baristas out—everyone thinks Christmas is a time of relaxation and coming together, but it doesn’t feel like that when you work in a customer facing job, oh no. It’s just non-stop busyness and being rushed off your feet.

(You’d barely had a chance to speak to Yoongi, café full when he’d stepped in, your pace frenetic as you’d danced around behind the counter with Taehyung and Jungkook; you’d slid his drinks towards him, his Americano and the special, and maybe your smile had looked more harrowed than you thought because he’d caught your hand and squeezed it.

“I hope you get a chance to rest over Christmas,” he’d said, concerned and sincere, as you’d stood in stunned silence, not expecting that almost-intimate touch, gentle against your skin.

“I will,” you’d said eventually. Yoongi had seemed to suddenly realise he was still touching you, fingers clasped around yours, and he’d withdrawn quickly, giving you a smile that felt like a whispered secret, before leaving you to deal with the ever-growing queue.)

Suffice to say, it’s been a long week, and you’re tired, and your feet hurt after all the running around you’ve been doing, and you just want to go home. You just need to finish the close, need to finish setting everything up for the open tomorrow, need to finish cleaning everything, and then you can get some sleep.

At least, that’s what you thought. Instead, you’re standing across from Jungkook and staring at him incredulously. You can feel a headache coming on.

“Wait.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “What do you mean, we need to deliver some coffee?”

You don’t know if Jungkook is being deliberately obtuse, but he just stares at you as if you’re the one talking nonsense right now, and not him. “We have a customer order to deliver,” he says.

“Yes, I gathered that,” you say. “I just mean, why did no one tell me sooner?”

Paradise doesn’t do deliveries, as such. You cater for events, and you technically do deliveries then, but it’s less ‘one coffee to go’ and more ‘enough sandwiches and pastries and bagels and coffee to feed an entire office’. It’s not that you can’t bring someone their order directly, it’s more that you just… don’t.

“Taehyung took the order,” Jungkook says, as if that explains everything.

You pinch the bridge of your nose again. You can’t ask Tae about it, the other man having had to leave just as you’d been about to flip the sign to closed (‘Jimin says Tannie peed in his shoes again! I have to go clean it up! I’m so sorry, I swear I’ll cover a close for each of you next time!’), so it’s just you, and Jungkook, and the slip of paper on the counter between you. You’ve worked with Taehyung long enough to trust his judgement and his decisions, as inexplicable as they might seem sometimes, but you do think it’s weird that he’s taken this delivery on board.

“It’s not too far from here,” Jungkook adds, peering at the address on the paper. “It won’t take long.”

“We have to finish closing, Jungkook,” you say.

He shrugs casually, carelessly. “I’ll do it, I don’t mind. You can just do the delivery and then go home straight after, it’s whatever.”

“It’s not whatever,” you mumble. “Why can’t you deliver it?”

“You’re the senior barista, you’re a better representative of the brand,” he says, and you have no idea where he pulled that from. (You blame Jimin. You know they’ve had shifts together, and Jimin is too smooth-talking for his own good.)

As much as you want to argue, you can’t help but cave, because the prospect of getting home early is one that you’re not about to sniff at. (You’d worry that Jungkook would get home late, what with the amount of prep he still needs to do for tomorrow, but you half suspect that Taehyung will reappear at some point, anyway.) You’re too tired to want to argue. “I just want to say this is a one off, and normally we cater for events, we’re not really a delivery service, okay?”

“Duly noted.”

It’s a simple enough order, anyway—it’s just two drinks. The first is a large quad shot latte with caramel and toffee syrup, extra whipped cream and cinnamon on top (something you’d definitely order, you think, indulgent and milky and with enough caffeine to kick you up the ass). Jungkook dutifully cleans as you start the second drink. The special this week is far, far less sweet than normal; a Rudolph the Red-eyed Reindeer: a simple red eye with a pinch of holiday spice, coffee with an extra espresso shot and topped with cinnamon and nutmeg. You take in a deep breath, swallowing down the warm smell and letting it flow through you before you double check the details on the note.

It takes you a second as you squint at the address, wondering why it looks familiar—and then you pause. This is Yoongi’s office, you think to yourself, and it feels a little like there’s an apricot pit sitting heavy in your stomach, heavy and hard. Paradise had catered a breakfast for them last week, and it hadn’t been on your shift and so you hadn’t gone, but—you’d heard enough about it from Jimin, the type who gets to know everyone and everything the second he walks in the door. You’d heard about the team that Yoongi manages, found out that Yoongi works in music, in artist and repertoire, and when you’d had the chance to Google exactly what that meant, you’d been bowled over. He has such a complex, high skilled job, and here you are, struggling to get a job with your degree, hence the barista thing. (Thanks, economy.)

You hastily shuffle past the address, trying to ward off your sudden sense of inadequacy, focusing on the name instead. What sort of name is Suga? you think to yourself, and then shrug. Probably one of the workers had enjoyed the breakfast the other week and was still hanging around before going on holiday for Christmas, or something.

“Alright, I’m off.” You’re ready to advance into the cold outside: coat on, scarf looped around your neck and hat secure on your head, cardboard tray of drinks clutched in your hands. “If you need help closing, just call me and I’ll come back, okay?”

“I won’t, but, thanks,” Jungkook says, equal parts self-assured and reassuring. “Don’t fall on your ass!”

It is icy outside, the entire world a winter wonderland, beautiful but cold and daylight long gone; snow drifts slowly from the sky above, dusting your shoulders and the top of your hat, flakes caught so softly by the weave of your clothes. It’s the kind of day that’s perfect spent indoors, curled up with the people you love, warmed through and through—and here you are, picking your way across the pavement slush to deliver a coffee to someone. (You’re not even getting paid for this.)

At least it’s not too far, really, just a few blocks away. The building is small, which is a plus, because it means you won’t have multitudes of rooms and offices to trawl past to get to your destination. The receptionist is more than helpful, too, when you say that you have a delivery for Suga; she gives you exactly directions and then she smiles at you, pleasant and pretty and lovely, and that gremlin that’s still clinging desperately onto your feelings for Yoongi whispers: what if this is Yoongi’s girlfriend? She’s beautiful.

Shut up, you think, before smiling back and thanking her, and heading on your way.

This close to Christmas you’d think that the building would be almost empty, but you’d be wrong. It’s not a buzzing hive of activity but there are still people walking around, speaking behind closed doors or laughing through open ones, decorations and tinsel hanging from the ceiling. Up ahead you see a someone come out of a room, shutting the door behind them before they walk in your direction. It’s a man who looks like he’s just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine and as you pass in the corridor he pauses, raising his eyebrows at you. Not suspicious, just surprised.

“Uh, I have a coffee for Suga,” you say without prompting, as if he was about to accuse you of some sort of nefarious scheme and your coffee delivery is the only thing saving you from that.

“Oh,” mister-model-handsome says, suddenly smiling widely, like this is all perfectly normal and not weird at all. He’s got some of the poutiest lips you’ve ever seen. “You’re nearly there, he’s just down the corridor and on the right. Have fun!”

“Uh, you too?” you reply. (Is he Yoongi’s boyfriend? He’s tall and broad shouldered and incredibly attractive, with the type of smile that makes people’s hearts race, and Yoongi definitely deserves someone like that.)

Your destination seems to be the office the (probably) model just came out of. You look around the corridor, which seems to be deserted now, the hubbub of people elsewhere in the building. You knock quietly, not wanting to disturb the hush that’s filled the air around you.

A beat. Then: “Come in,” someone says, voice muffled through the door.

It swings open easily at your touch. You stand on the threshold, mouth open around the announcement of your delivery when the words die on your lips.

Yoongi’s there, sitting behind a desk and his head bowed as he scribbles something in a notebook. He doesn’t look up. “Shut the door,” he says. Dumbstruck, you do just that, and it’s not until the door’s quietly clicked shut that he starts to raise his head. “Hyung, I already said that I don’t need to eat—”

And then he spots you standing there.

He stops mid-sentence, mouth open, eyes widening. He looks as shocked as you feel, utterly taken aback and agog, and even now you can’t help but notice how good he looks. He’s in a black button up, sleeves rolled to the elbow and top button undone, revealing the pale skin of his collarbones. It’s another juxtaposition, the Yoongi that you’re familiar with (an aura of effortless authority and attractiveness) in a place you don’t know at all, completely professional, his desk neat and the entire space put together. There’s a tastefully decorated tree in the corner but it doesn’t throw off the balance of the room at all.

“Uh.” You cough lightly. “I have… a delivery… for Suga?”

Yoongi stares at you.

“Is this… not the right room? I can go,” you mumble, gesturing over your shoulder with a thumb.

This seems to snap Yoongi out of whatever thoughts he was having as he shakes his head. “No, this is… Suga’s office,” he says. “I just didn’t order any coffee.”

You open your mouth. Shut your mouth. You don’t have an Americano on the tray, but he’d probably like the red eye, coffee with extra coffee, no sugar or cream. Just a little pinch of spice.

“Maybe it was a surprise, or something? Couples get each other gifts all the time.”

Yoongi’s lips quirk up. “I’m not really the type that gets surprised with gifts.”

Something about this strikes a discordant note in you. He’s always delivering gifts of coffee—he deserves those expressions of love returned to him. You can’t help but say as such.

“You’re always giving gifts, though,” you say. “Those weekly specials. I wouldn’t be surprised if your other half is returning the favour.”

Blink, blink. He looks perplexed. “I don’t have an other half?”

Your mouth opens again. “Uh,” you say eloquently. “What?”

“I… don’t have an other half? I’m… single?”

“You’re…” Your face scrunches up, wrinkled in confusion. What? He’s… what? “But you always buy two drinks?”

Silence. Then: “I… the Americano is for me,” he says. “I usually just pour the special away. I only started ordering them because you got so excited talking about them and making them. I never planned on drinking them.”

Your mouth falls open, soft around a quiet breath, a soft oh. “You—wait. You ordered them because I got excited about them?”

Yoongi’s eyes are so dark, so gentle; melted chocolate, warm. “You started to talk to me more, after the first time I did,” he says, and you know you had. Because you thought it was safer to talk to him, though you were secure in the knowledge he wasn’t single—but he is single. “So I kept doing it, because I wanted to talk more to you. I thought you knew? And that’s why you started having real conversations with me.”

You’re frozen in place, eyes as big as dinner plates. Min Yoongi, your futile crush, who looks as sharp as a knife but is as sweet as spun candyfloss, has been coming back week after week—for you. He’s not in a relationship, and he’s been flirting with you.

Or at least he thought he had been. You, however, hadn’t even realised.

“I was going to ask you on a date after Christmas,” he continues, calm and steady, as if your brain isn’t melting. He’s still sitting behind his desk, and there’s something about his tousled hair and bared lower arms—watch on one wrist and a few bracelets on the other—that has your heart pounding, that casual air somehow not at odds at the weight of the surroundings. Because the world is a backdrop to Yoongi, and he makes it work.

“What the fuck,” you say. You realise you’ve never sworn in front of him when something flickers in his eyes; not a bad flicker, no. Definitely not. “I thought you were taken.”

“I’m very single,” he says lightly, belying the weight behind the words. And then his eyes drop to your hands. “You said you have a coffee for me?”

Which leads to this: Yoongi, in his chair, you, leaning against his desk. He’s taken the red eye (of course) while you sip at the latte, relishing the punch of espresso, the flavour of the syrups.

You’re both staring at each other as you drink, air in the room growing thicker by the moment, when Yoongi breaks the silence. “This is probably the only weekly special I’d actually want to drink.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Black coffee with more espresso? That’s you all over,” you say. “The other specials aren’t so bad, though. I think you just need to give sweet drinks a chance.”

You’re speaking without thinking, but the second those words leave your mouth, the air turns electric. Yoongi’s still staring at you, unwavering and intent, and everything inside you is melting, leaving you flushed and hot. The smile hasn’t left his face, which had been warm but it’s changed, evolved, edged with something sharper.

“If you say so,” he says. His eyes are on your lips. “Let me try?”

His fingers are so gentle on your face, hands cupping your jaw as he tilts your head down. All your thoughts leave you. There’s nothing in your mind but Yoongi, his warm hands and dark eyes, the heat of his body so close to yours, his mouth; you can’t help but look down, tracing the shape of his lips with your gaze, a small soft pout that’s so at odds with the weight of his intensity.

When he kisses you, it’s featherlight. Barely the softest of pressures, the potential of something more—and then he pulls you in deeper, and there it is, that heat flickering in your stomach jumping into a full fire. The kiss turns hot and wet as he licks the flavour of caramel and toffee syrup out of your mouth, and he tastes like coffee, dark and bitter; you make a noise against his lips and he swallows it down, pulls you closer.

You’re straddling his knees, a little awkward and cramped in his office chair, but you don’t care. You’ve been wanting to kiss Yoongi for so long, even when you felt like you shouldn’t, thought about his dark eyes and pink mouth, the curve of his lips, the paleness of his hands; a steadying presence around your waist, holding you in place.

When you pull apart, Yoongi’s lips are flushed, kiss swollen. It looks good on him. Really good on him.

“I’ve thought about that more than I’d like to admit,” he says, and you can’t help but feel warmed by it, the realisation that you’ve wanted to kiss him but he’s wanted to kiss you, too.

“This really isn’t comfortable,” you say, wriggling a little—your ass is starting to go numb, sat on Yoongi’s knees—and Yoongi sucks in a quick breath at the way you’re all but squirming in his lap, even if he doesn’t say anything.

Oh, you think.

When you move away, he lets you go without protest, hands sliding off your waist. It’s not until you fall to your knees that Yoongi realises what you’re doing, his eyes widening.

“Y/n,” he breathes. “You don’t have to—”

“Please, Yoongi, I’ve wanted to do this for months,” you say. Maybe it was a little crass to start with, wanting to get on your knees for a man you barely knew just because he was hot and polite to you, but now you know he wants you back. You’re not about to let this opportunity pass you by, staring up at him between his knees, hands braced on his thighs. “But if you want me to stop, I’ll stop.”

He looks torn, just for a second, eyes darting away from your face and to the door. It’s shut, but it’s not locked, and though the building is quiet there’s nothing to say that someone couldn’t walk in at any second.

Without thinking, you lick your lips. Yoongi’s eyes flicker back at the motion, watching how your tongue moves, and you can see how he crumbles.

“I don’t want you to stop,” he says, and you dig your nails into his trousers, electricity shooting through you.

“You’ll have to keep your voice down,” you warn, and reach for his zipper.

It’s a struggle for him, you can tell. He’s already biting his lip by the time you’ve tugged his trousers and boxers down, hardening under your grasp, and you knew his dick would be as pretty as the rest of him. You don’t have the luxury of worshipping him the way you want to, acutely aware of the fact you’re in his office, but it doesn’t mean you’re not going to make Yoongi feel good. It’s dirty and messy, the way you suck his cock into your mouth lewd and wet, lavishing attention on the most sensitive parts; his hips jump as you circle the head with your tongue and jerk the rest of his length with a hand.

Everything’s sloppy with spit and precum and Yoongi’s biting off curses, hand tightening in your hair as you take in as much of him as you can, relaxing your throat and swallowing him down, down, down. When you look up at him through your lashes he looks wrecked, the paleness of his skin flushed pink, and you can’t wait to see that all over. Can’t wait to see Yoongi entirely bare in front of you, when you have the luxury of time and pleasure.

But there’s something about this, too, that has your heart racing, cunt throbbing. You’re running your spit slick lips down the side of his shaft, tonguing the throb of the vein there, when you hear footsteps nearby, muffled through the door. It doesn’t sound like they’re coming in this direction and Yoongi seems almost entirely lost to the feeling of your mouth on him, but you flick your tongue across the spot where the head of his cock meets the shaft and he bows forward, swallowing down the noise that threatened to spill from his lips. He’s so fucking hot like this, falling apart under your hands and mouth, and you know he’ll give as good as he gets.

“Gonna cum,” he rasps. You smile up at him before taking his cock back into your mouth, jerking him off hard and fast as you lick and suck—and when he cums it’s with a noisy exhale of breath, a muffled groan, and even as you’re swallowing down his cum and mouthing at him until he winces with oversensitivity, you’re imagining what he sounds like when he doesn’t have to be quiet.

He’s not shy, either. You’ve barely tucked him back in when he’s reaching for you, kissing you. There’s no taste of coffee any more and you shiver, molten and boneless at the way his tongue presses into your mouth.

“Still want to take me on a date?”

You’re being cheeky, voice light as you joke, but Yoongi’s responding look is equal parts serious and affectionate. He sweeps a thumb over your cheekbone and you relax into his hands, feeling like a cat that got the cream. Here you are, on your knees in his office, the glittering lights of his Christmas tree thrown across your hair and skin, warmed by the touch of a man you’ve wanted for months but never thought you would get.

“Of course,” he murmurs, gentle-gentle-gentle, as if you hadn’t just sucked his soul through his dick—and you love that about him, love his inherent soft core, his big heart. You might not know him as well as you’d like—not yet—but you already know that much about him. “I owe you a present, too.”

Your face scrunches. “What, because I gave you a blowjob?”

At this he laughs, mouth split wide and gums on show as his whole body shakes with the intensity of it. “No, because you brought me a coffee,” he says. He still has your cheek cupped in his hand, palm warm against your skin. “But if you want to say it’s because of the blowjob as well, then sure.”

“There’s plenty more where that came from.” You smile at him, gentle expression at odds with the meaning behind the words and your position—still on your knees.

You don’t know if they ache when you stand, because Yoongi is kissing you again, distracting you. And it’s easy, this back and forth you have, comfortable as you finish the (now lukewarm) coffees and get ready to go, because Yoongi insists on walking you home. Because he’s a gentleman, your gentleman, and he even holds the door open for you.

You’re not sure if you can reach for his hand, if that would be too forward in his place of work, if he doesn’t want to when this thing between you is so tentative and new. But you’re barely halfway down the corridor when he stops you with a gentle hand on your arm; when you look over, he’s smiling at you, and then tilts his chin up.

“Oh!” You stare at the huge bundle of mistletoe above you, tied with red ribbon and messily taped to the ceiling. It brings a smile to your face. “Oh, how cute.”

The hand on your arm shifts down. Yoongi weaves his fingers with yours.

“You know about the tradition, right?” There’s a twinkle in his eyes, and it’s not just from the lights from the ceiling above, turning his dark eyes into warm chocolate, deep brown. “Kissing under the mistletoe?”

You can’t help but blink, surprised at his sweetness, his forwardness. There’s nothing to say that someone couldn’t walk by right now, to see the two of you hand in hand under the mistletoe, but Yoongi doesn’t care at all. He’s staring at you like you’re the only other person in the world, and you feel like a fountain of champagne is bubbling inside you, heady and sparkling and light.

“I think I’ve heard of it,” you say, and he’s still smiling, a small thing, just for you. “Do you think you can show me?”

And he does, with his hand in yours, your lips against his, and up above, the mistletoe sparkles.

(Your phone rings. Caller ID says it’s Taehyung, but when you pick up, he’s not the one who speaks.

“So.” Jungkook sounds knowing, his voice bordering on smug. “How did the delivery go?”

In the background you can hear someone crowding close, put it on speaker, Kookie, I want to hear too, and you can’t help but smile at Taehyung’s eagerness.

“Good,” you say. Yoongi’s palm is warm against yours and you swing your joint hands together, looking at him, entranced by the way the snowflakes dust his eyelashes. The sky above is dark and the wind around you is cold, but the man beside is so bright and warm. You feel wrapped up in it. “Yoongi says he’s going to kill you, by the way.”

“He won’t,” Jungkook says cheerfully, loud enough that Yoongi can hear. He looks fond.

“Well, tell Taehyung I’m going to kick his ass for lying about Tannie peeing on Jimin’s shoes,” you say.

“You won’t,” Taehyung says, equally as cheerful, and you can’t help but smile.

“No, I won’t,” you say.

You think about the seasons. You think about the man walking beside you; the man who says he hates cold weather, but has kept his gloves off so he can feel your hand against his. The man who came out in the snow to order a drink, just to make you smile. The man who looks like winter but feels like spring, something cold bursting into potential, new life.

In the depth of winter, under the snow and twinkling Christmas lights above, Yoongi squeezes your hand.)

taglist: @beyoncesdragon @vensulove

#btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #magicshopnet #houseofddaeng #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts #yoongi au #bts au #yoongi #yoongi scenario #yoongi imagine #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #joy.masterlist #PLEASE feel free to message me with any typos or whatever and I'll get on those when I have a chance

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samwilsonshandsandass · 3 years

Text

In The Coffee Shop

Summary: You work in a coffee shop and preparing the special of the month starts something you’d never thought would happen at your work place.

Pairing: Sharon Carter x Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff x Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Dubcon (sex pollen), smut, oral sex (m and f receiving, m and f giving), fingering, anal

Word count: 4.6K

A/N: This is my entry for @tinymalscoffee 400 follower writing challenge. Congrats on that milestone and thank you for hosting this challenge! I chose the prompts sex pollen and coffee shop AU. The graphics I used are by the amazing @firefly-graphics

It was, surprisingly, a slow morning in the coffee shop. Well, maybe not that surprising. There had been a warning for an extreme weather phenomenon and judging by the lack of customers in suits, several of the big employers had for once decided to not force their employees to come into work during this. You could already see the dark clouds forming on the sky.

The bell above the door rang and in came a red head with shorter hair. You didn’t look up from the flat white you were preparing and put some chocolate powder on it when your colleague yelled to you to get started on a double espresso. The flat white was done and snatched up by someone who visibly thought himself a hotshot, and even more visibly, wasn’t. Probably why he was out, to show his unwavering dedication to the company…

Then came the red head into your line of view directly. She was beautiful. And your hands trembled when you pushed the cup over the counter to her.

“Here’s your coffee, ma’am. Enjoy” You were surprised you were able to keep your voice steady.

“Thanks. Sugar is…?” Her voice was beautiful.

“To your right, ma’am.”

She smiled. “Do I look that old?”

“N-no, miss” You felt yourself get hot in the face.

“Don’t worry, just pulling your leg.”

You smiled at each other. Her smile made her even more beautiful. She nodded once more to you and then went to find a seat in the farthest nook of the shop. Your shift went on like usual after that.

Some days later, you had the afternoon shift. Your favorite. There were mostly students chatting about their lectures and during ordering, they were the nicest of customers and even chatting with you and the other baristas about their own side jobs, often in other cafés like yours.

This time you were on the register. Because of the influx of customers, you didn’t register the black-haired man and the blond one next to him until they stood directly in front of you.

“What can I get you, sirs? Our feature of the month is the flat white and the blueberry muffin.”

“I’ll have a latte macchiato and one of those blueberry muffins. Sound delicious.” The black-haired man grinned at you.

“And for you, sir?”

“Just a black coffee, thanks.” The blond one smiled.

“Right away, just wait for it over there.” You pointed to the end of the counter.

“Thanks” The black-haired one smiled. “So, Steve about that idea for Veterans Day…”

A week later, right at noon, a blonde woman and a brown-haired man came in. You were just finishing up an americano when they came over to you and you caught a snippet of their conversation: “… but knives-“ Said the blonde woman.

You had expected normal talks about work or whatnot. But not about knives, and apparently that had shown on your face.

“Don’t you scare the lady that’s granting you tea, Sharon!” The man said and smiled at you.

You smiled back as you gave them their tea and coffee and they smiled back. Like customers and employees smiled at each other.

Days later, when you were on table cleaning duty, your eyes swept over the customers’ heads. There was that cute couple that had had their first date here. You had no idea what number date they were on, but they were clearly progressing. The redhead putting her hand on the hand of the other woman after she put down the cookie she just broke in half.

The next table already had drunk their orders and the crumbs on the one plate in front of the brown-haired man signaled them being finished.

“Can I clear away?” You asked.

The brown-haired man and the redhead woman nodded.

“Thanks.”

There was even more traffic than usual in the morning today. Some conference was happening near you. And it wasn’t the fun kind for comics or books or games or a combination or all three with people in cosplay and sometimes, literally, screaming about who they saw and who was gonna be where and what they wanted to do and fandom discussions you got way to invested in for the fact that you were working. No, it was some business conference. It meant even more suits and even more snatched drinks without so much as a glance. It shouldn’t have bothered you, but it still did.

On one table though, there were two blondes and a black-haired man next to them. When you yelled out their orders, the blonde woman came up and took them with a genuine but tired “Thanks.” It was the first thanks you had heard that day by a customer.

When you went to do your cleaning rounds and came to their table the black-haired man and the blonde woman seemed to be dozing. The other blond smiled to himself. You took the cups and remembered how they all had wanted a double-caffeine shot.

“Thank you very much, ma’am” The blond man said.

You looked up at him, aghast. Thanking customers were one thing. They made your day. But this? This much manners? Calling you ‘ma’am’? Wow.

“O- of course. You’re welcome.”

You came out of the back room and had to grip the doorframe to hold yourself up. Your head was swimming.

“Hey! … okay?” You heard a voice in front of you.

You clenched your eyes and opened them again.

“Hey. You okay?” The blonde woman came into focus.

“I feel … weird…” You mumbled.

“I’ll take a look” The blond man said and went to the back room. A few minutes later, he came back, carrying a tray with a coffee grinder and half of the beans already ground.

“Did you just work on this?”

“Yeah… it’s… it’s our … special feature … the coffee with … with our special… home-ground beans…” Speaking was hard, you slurred, but somehow you managed while the blonde woman stroked your back.

“And you prepared them for tomorrow?” The redhead asked.

You nodded.

“Right, there was an ad about the new monthly feature” The brown-haired man mused.

You nodded again.

The blond man bent over the tray and took a whiff.

“Steve, no!” The black-haired man shouted.

“That’s been a losing battle for decades now, Sam” The brown-haired man sounded almost resigned.

“It smells a little weird.”

“I don’t smell anything” The redhead said. “But if you sense something, it must be there. Probably not strong enough for her to pick up.” She nodded to you.

The brown-haired man stood up from where he sat and went into the back room. He came back shortly after and pinched his nose in what seemed disbelief. “I think I know what it is. And all of us already inhaled it.”

“What are you talking about, Bucky?” The blonde woman spoke up.

“There were rumors about a substance that could be both used in liquids and in air to heighten sexual arousal. At the moment I don’t yet know who exactly produced it or why they need this and I also don’t know who ‘they’ are but the rumors I could listen to years ago when they were slow with wiping me, apparently led to something.”

“So, ‘they’ isn’t Hydra?” That was the redhead.

The guy shook his head.

“So, what happens now?” The blond man, Steve, asked.

“Most likely, all of us will go more or less crazy unless we…” Bucky scratched his neck and trailed off.

“Getting ourselves of by ourselves isn’t an option?” Sam wanted to know. “The whole thing would be weird if it was just people we knew from work, but she” He pointed to you. “doesn’t know us, we don’t know her and besides introducing ourselves, there won’t be much getting to know each other.”

“I know your orders, but that’s about it. I can’t even tell if you have a routine for which you need caffeine, because you all came in at different times and all the time” You mumbled with a tight-lipped smile.

“They say something about ourselves, right?” The man who was called Steve.

You nodded and looked at the blonde woman. “You have someone British in your family.”

Now Steve. “You want something simple. Maybe you don’t care for all the special things coffee shops have, but maybe, you’re also overwhelmed by the sheer amount of choice.”

The one called Sam was next. “You want something sweet but unlike others, you don’t want it contrasted with a drink on the bitter side of the spectrum. You want something toned down. You don’t need another stark contrast.”

“You” You looked at the redhead- “want something strong and sweet. Always. It’s both a pick me up and something to calm down but stay energized.”

“And you, ordering a black coffee but with caramel and peppermint syrup. There are people who order one of the two syrups in their coffee. Maybe caramel and hazelnut together. Peppermint on its own. But caramel and peppermint? That’s very unusual.” That was the last one of the group.

As much as they looked stunned, you looked proudly at them.

“How do you know I have someone British in my family?” The blonde woman seemed a little lost for words.

“Tea in this shop is either ordered by people who wanna seem fancy but not too fancy to hinder their career or by people who have an emotional response to tea. That’s why we sell almost no tea when there’s a conference, even to those suit-wearing people from around here who normally order one.”

“But how?” The one called Sam wondered.

“Barista.”

“If you know all that just by our drink orders and we’ll probably have sex with each other tonight, we should probably know each other’s names, right?” Steve said.

You nodded. “I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Steve and this are Sharon, Natasha, Sam and Bucky.”

You shook their hands and looked them in the eyes when their names were called and they smiled at you. You shook hands with people you barely, if at all, knew and who you were going to have sex with in probably a few minutes.

“Is there somewhere where it wouldn’t be that uncomfortable?” Natasha asked.

You nodded and led them to the very back of the shop, right where Natasha had once drunk her double espresso.

“The first time I came in here, you made the coffee and I went to this nook. You make a mean double espresso.”

“How do you remember that one coffee?”

“Because the first time it wasn’t you who made it, it didn’t taste as good.”

“Oh. Thanks.” You smiled; the barista part of your ego needed that and getting that compliment from someone like her, was an added bonus.

“May I?” Sam asked and untied the apron, now working on your shirt and you nodded.

Your clothes went one by one, slowly and when you were just in your underwear, you saw the others had taken off their clothing as well, except Sam of course.

You looked at Sam and when he smiled at you, you took off his clothes, first the sweater, then the pants.

Someone took your hand and you looked to your right to see Sharon pulling you with her on the couch. She put her hands on your cheeks and slowly kissed you. Her lips moved with yours and left you breathless when she let you go.

You felt someone on the other side of you who rubbed your waist. Turning your head, you saw Steve who looked encouragingly at you. He kissed the junction of your shoulder and neck. You could feel his chest pressing to your back and leant into him.

Suddenly there was something cold on your left leg and you flinched away, only to be stopped by soft hands.

“Sorry” Bucky mumbled and when you looked down you saw him massaging your leg with his hands, one flesh, one metal and you couldn’t help but think of how his metal hand would feel between your folds.

On your right leg were Natasha’s hands, massaging, kneading higher and higher until you felt her between your folds. She rose up until you could feel the tip of her tongue when you heard Steve say: “Nat, wait a second.”

You tore your eyes away from Natasha and saw Steve push a pillow under Natasha’s knees. She turned her head to give him a quick smile of thanks and then licked a stripe on the junction between your vulva and your right leg and then on the other side. Her hands had left your leg to hold you down at your hips and not too soon, because as her tongue was on your vulva longer than a second and she moved around, licking up and down your lips, your body bucked into her mouth on its own.

Sam moved behind Sharon, pressing himself into her, pushing her on you and both of you a little more into Steve. He somehow got his hands under your butt, letting his fingers dance over it, rubbing all the spots that you didn’t even know would make you moan. And then, he removed one of his hands. You just heard a wet pop and felt Steve’s forefinger at your hole.

“Okay?”

You tried to nod but in that moment Natasha inserted two of her fingers in your channel, and already, you could hear your wetness. So, instead of a nod, a moan escaped your lips and that was the non-verbal “Yes” Steve needed and he pushed his finger in.

Your mouth, still open from your moan, fell open even more and Sam traced it with his thumb. You moved your head forward a bit and closed your lips around it and sucked. You wrapped your right hand around Sam’s wrist to keep his hand where it was and linked your left hand with Sharon’s. You could feel her thighs next to yours on the couch moving. You looked at her. She had her eyes closed, whimpering into your neck.

“Y/N, hold her hip” Sam ordered.

You moved your hand from his wrist to her hip and Sam held her other hip. He moved forward and Sharon whined when Sam sank into her.

“Good?” You asked her.

She smiled lazily at you and nodded. You rubbed her neck and with each thrust of Sam, he squished her and your chests together. You angled your head a little to easier to kiss Sharon. You traced her lips with yours, she traced yours with hers when you pulled back for a second. She caressed your cheekbones with her thumbs and only when you opened your lips a bit further, did she use her tongue. She poked yours playfully, you poked back and could hear her giggle that traveled straight to your core. You entangled her in a light dance until you both had to breathe.

You leaned against each other, foreheads touching. You felt Sam moving his arm but couldn’t see where it went. You just noticed Sharon jolting and looked down to see him rubbing her clit.

“Baby, open up” Sam purred and pulled down your bottom lip with the thumb of his other hand.

You parted your lips immediately.

A second later, Natasha pulled her fingers from you and held them up in front of your face. She scissored them a bit and you could see your wetness between them.

“Sam?”

“Oh, yeah” He chuckled and removed his thumb from your mouth to a whine from you but that turned into a moan when Nat pushed her fingers into your mouth. You moved your tongue around, tasting yourself on her and maybe, just maybe, putting on a little show for her.

Steve kissed your shoulder blades, your neck, your collar bones while he moved his finger in you.

“Ready for the next one?”

This time you could nod, and you did.

“Alright” You could hear the smile in Steve’s voice.

He inserted his middle finger alongside his forefinger slowly and gently. He waited until he felt you relax and suck on Natasha’s fingers again. Just enjoying the feeling of being full and you felt your pussy clenching around nothing.

Now, you felt Bucky moving up a little. He looked up at you through his lashes. He massaged your tummy, going in circles until his hands gripped you were Natasha had had her hands. Bucky dove in, kitten licking your pussy and Nat’s soft hair was one thing between your thighs and definitely something you’d enjoy later when you were alone, even if it was just a memory, but Bucky’s shorter hair combined with his stubble was something else.

You couldn’t help but put your legs over his shoulders and link your ankles.

“Good… so good…” You moaned. Natasha had pulled her fingers back by now and kneaded yours and Sharon’s breasts.

“Yeah? What exactly feels good, baby?” Sam purred as he thrust into Sharon.

“Nat’s… Natasha’s fingers… and Steve’s as well” You could feel Steve’s grin on your shoulder blade and his fingers thrusting a bit deeper. “And-“ Bucky’s tongue entered you, going back and forth, in and out and you clenched around him.

When he pulled back for a moment with a grin, he said: “You were saying?”

You swallowed thickly and summoned your will to answer him. “Your beard! It feels so good on my thighs, never had one between them before…” You moaned again.

“Then I’m honored to be your first” He winked and dove back in.

He continued right where he left of. His tongue fucked up into you, his hands pulled you down onto him and soon your hips were basically riding his face. After a very pointed movement of his tongue, perfectly timed with Bucky squeezing your hips while pulling you down again, made you come undone. Your pussy spasmed around him, your mouth opened and your eyes closed.

You couldn’t hear anything, you couldn’t move anything but when you came down back to earth, you could still feel your pussy spasming. Apparently, you had gripped Bucky’s hair at some point and carded your fingers through it and scratched his scalp to ground yourself. But that plan backfired. Your scratching of his scalp made him purr. Understandably because having your scalp scratched was nice but after such an orgasm it was too much for you and you whimpered.

Bucky moved his metal hand to cup your pussy and the pressure of the plates without much structure plus the coldness soothed you and you sighed.

You felt several hands stroking you, calming you down and Sharon and Natasha kissing you.

“All good?” Steve wanted to know from behind you.

You nodded and turned your head to kiss him, moving your tongue against his.

They all pulled back a bit, Natasha and Bucky sitting back on their heels, Sam pulled Sharon from you and leant back and Steve removed his fingers and while you still felt Steve’s chest at your back and Sharon’s thighs next to yours but other than that, nothing.

You whined at the loss of contact and of the confusion until Steve lifted you up by your waist.

“Spread your legs, love” He commanded softly, and you did. As he lowered you down, you could almost feel his thighs under yours and the tip of his cock at your spread butthole.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

“Then breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Steady, okay?”

You followed Steve’s advice and you felt him slowly inch in. He stopped every few seconds, letting you adjust to it all until you felt his hips digging into your butt.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and slowly leaned back, until he laid flat on the couch with you on top of him. He rubbed your arms

Bucky climbed between your and Steve’s legs, holding his dick and looked to you for confirmation. You made grabby hands and he chuckled.

“Needy.”

Bucky bent over you and looked you in the eyes. And he continued to hold your gaze as he entered you. You couldn’t have looked away if you wanted to.

“Wet. So warm and wet” His eyes were screwed shut and he leaned his forehead on your collarbone.

Natasha moved to your head and you moved so your head was on Steve’s shoulder. You put your hands on Nat’s hips and pulled her down until her clit met your lips and she hissed on contact, while facing away from Bucky. She slowly began to ride your face and you moved your tongue a bit to touch her.

Seeing Natasha in this position, you below her, your mouth on her clit, her using you for your pleasure and her stiff nipples and her breasts moving made you wish for two mouths. You wanted to taste her but at the same time, you wanted to suck and bite her nipples until they were swollen and she’d push you away because it felt too good.

Bucky and Steve held you close, sandwiched between them, their arms around you and each other and when they started to move, they moved in unison. They made you feel almost completely empty and then full again and Bucky rubbed your clit with his left middle finger and forefinger.

That was the moment Sam softly took your left hand from under Bucky’s and Steve’s arms. Sam wrapped it around him and started moving it up and down. When you looked to your left, you saw Sam, but you also saw Sharon looking straight at you as she quickly rode Sam’s thigh. She smiled and reached out to stroke your forearm.

You were so glad Sam helped you, because on your own, you wouldn’t have been able to do something. The stimulation of Bucky’s slow and deep strokes that hit all the points in you, Steve grinding and keeping you close, Sharon’s touches a contrast but at the same time not to it all, the heat of them around you, Natasha on your face and moaning. It was all too much.

Natasha rode your face rhythmically, you licked and sucked on her until the rhythm she had built stuttered, her moan broke off and her legs twitched. You could see her bending forward to rest on her forearms.

Sam moved your hand along him, he squeezed your hand around him, lessening it a bit when he came to the tip and twisting your hand around it.

You moved your right hand from under Bucky’s arm and put it on Natasha’s hip to stabilize her. She moaned at the contact and the moan morphed into a whimper when you switched from using your tongue to nipping and sucking on her with your lips.

At the same time Steve gripped your hips and used what leverage he had to chase his release and soon you could feel him cumming with a groan. After the last spurt, he pressed you to him.

The slightly new angle seemed to trigger something in Bucky. He started rutting arrhythmically in you. With each thrust, he bent over you a little more until he effectively blanketed you with his body. Bucky softly rubbed and pinched your clit and you clenched around him. He stopped moving and you heard his growl as he started cumming in you.

And then you felt like you were floating up and away from the earth.

For a short time, nothing.

And then you felt like you were floating back down to earth.

You could feel your pussy still spasming, although now around nothing, and you could hear voices. You couldn’t discern who said what.

“Hey. Hey! … Oh shit, I think that was too much.”

“Too much of what exactly?”

“Of everything.”

“That wasn’t me, was it? The weight of my body?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Hey, Y/N. Hey. Come back to us.”

“Mmmhmmmm”

“Oh, good, you’re back. Thought we’d lost you there for a second.”

“You probably did, but I’m back now.”

You were maneuvered to lean against the back of the couch and just breathed in and out a few times. When you calmed down and got your beating heart a little more under control, your eyes fell to Sam’s cock, which still stood at attention.

“May I?” You asked and looked at him, at his cock and back at his face.

Sam just nodded and that was enough to lick long stripes up and down, only sucking on his tip for a second before you went back to the base of him and massaged his balls until you could feel him twitch. You waited until the last second to put your mouth on just his tip and sucked.

You continued sucking on Sam, letting him buck up his hips and swirled the tip of your tongue around the slit until he couldn’t take it anymore. Sam came and spurted in your mouth until he literally tore your mouth off his dick. You swallowed and grinned at him like a Cheshire cat.

You turned to Sharon, and this time, you pulled her on the couch. You pushed her back until she laid on her back. You moved down her breasts and tummy with little kisses and bites. You ignored her whimpers when you neglected where she visibly wanted you the most in favor of her thighs. You altered between nips, kisses and bites that would leave a memory for a few days, until you reached the junction between her legs.

You pursed your lips and only moved them over her. When your mouth was back at her entrance, you flattened your tongue and licked up until you swirled your tongue around Sharon’s clit. First in bigger circles that went smaller and smaller up to the point where you sucked her clit in your mouth. You continued sucking on her with alternating pressure until you could feel her twitch and buck her hips into your mouth.

Each time Sharon bucked into you, you made it a point to get closer to her, until she couldn’t take it anymore and came. She whimpered, she wailed, you could see several hands stroking her body, soothing her and you felt her thighs shake next to your head. After some time, her thighs stilled and you gently uncrossed her legs and took them off your shoulders. You licked your lips and grinned at her.

“Good?”

Sharon only nodded with a smile.

One day after this one-of-a-kind night, Natasha came back in the morning and left with a little black container under her arm and a double espresso to-go.

One or two weeks later, you had the day shift and were solely on coffee making duty. Your coworker had just told you the next order and it was a big one all at once.

“Latte macchiato, one blueberry muffin, black coffee, double espresso, black coffee with peppermint and caramel and a black tea!” You yelled out.

Someone came up to you and you recognized Sam.

“Good to see you” He winked with a smile.

“Not like I work here” You retorted with a smile of your own.

“Buck! Help me carry all these things!”

Bucky came up and looked at you. “Hey. Nice seeing you.”

“Surprisingly, I work at the place that I also call ‘my workplace’” You deadpanned.

Bucky let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, should have expected that.”

They both took half of the order in their hands and went to walk to the table where the others were sat. Although you couldn’t see the entire table, you knew exactly who sat at it, just from the orders.

Sam turned his upper body to you again. “When do you get off work?”

“In an hour. Why?”

“Wait for us here?”

“Who is ‘we’?”

Sam only winked and he and Bucky went to their table.

282 notes · View notes

ally-127 · 4 years

Note

What about first kiss with Wonwoo and poor baby is nervous because he really likes you

colour

pairing : barista!wonwoo x reader word count : 1.6k warnings : none! like one curse word used in a positive context, i guess. music : ‘love like that’ by lauv a/n : a little bit of domestic life here with mr jeon ++ happy comeback day everyone!! i‘m enjoying the album so far i hope you did too!!

in your life, there weren’t many things that were vivid, dynamic.

everything was set with a clear outline. you graduated with a degree your parents had chosen for you. you settled down in an apartment downtown of seoul, got a job in a company your father had recommended for you. you lived your life from nine to five every day exactly how your parents had wanted you to live.

all of it was fine-tuned to your parents’ desires.

you were beyond grateful for all they have given you. but there was a lack of colour, of taste, in your life. your day-to-day activities ran mostly on a flat curve, all in monochrome and it made you shrivel up, almost resorting to ignorance.

and that was until you met wonwoo.

you labelled meeting him as a coincidence but later he labelled it as fate, to which you laughed in his face and said,

“there’s no such thing as fate.”

you met him at a small café that only took a five-minute walk from your apartment. you were the only customer when you arrived at half-past nine in the morning, making a dark-haired barista and a load of empty chairs and tables your only company.

you didn’t mind, though.

there were many things you were used to.

solitude was only one of the many.

that was until the dark-haired barista—whom you eventually found out was called wonwoo—began to strike up a conversation with you after he handed you an iced latte you’d ordered.

for the first time since high school, someone paid attention to you and took interest in you. it was extremely sad, now that you thought about it, but it was nothing short of a life-changing revelation.

it was so mundane, the small talk you had with him, but at least it brought some colour—feeling—into your life.

you visited the café more often after that.

you learned that he was a quiet one, one that kept to himself around others, often only murmuring under his breath and barely looking them in the eye when he served their drink by the little counter at the end.

you were the only one, well you hoped you were the only one, who could see his feline eyes light up with recognition once they landed on your face.

it was when you visited him one day after he closed up the café that you realised he actually owned the place.

he laughed, brushing away your awe and told you it had been a dream of his to open one since he was a teenager. his hands were tucked into the pockets of his jeans then, raven hair falling across his arched brow as he looked down at the ground, embarrassed.

an unknown feeling, something of a slight thrill, if not excitement, seized your entire being when he asked you, quietly, if you wanted to have dinner with him that night.

you had hints of this excitement over the past month you began to see him during your short run for coffee, in a rush for work or after work, when you made use of the wifi there and completed your work in your usual seat by the window.

just as the conversations between you and him became deeper, so did your friendship.

you two basked in the warmth of after-hours in the café, diving into topics like the childhoods you experienced in different regions of the country or things like the books you enjoyed reading or the food you liked eating.

it was simple. like cookie crumbs, the two of you unintentionally collected bit by bit about each other and became friends who knew every single one of each other’s secrets.

not long after, wonwoo started to take you to places in seoul you’d never been to, even if you had lived there your entire life. he introduced you to new people—his close circle of friends—and had unknowingly opened up your mind, your heart.

before you knew it, you were too engrossed by everything about him to back out from any social setting anymore.

his kind-hearted nature was irresistible to you. his sweet smile was like pure serotonin, the only drug you ever needed on a bad day. you found yourself needing to be around him more often than not.

you liked watching the crinkle of his nose when you told a bad joke and feeling the shy glances he threw your way on the days you decided to put in more effort into your appearance.

thanks to wonwoo, you had finally broken out of your shell but it wouldn’t be you if you didn’t feel some sense of self-doubt, especially when you were constantly surrounded by new friends night after night for drinks and dinner.

so you decided to ask him as you two sat by the ocean in busan.

“why me?”

“what do you mean?” his hair, tousled by the prevailing wind, blew across his forehead when he turned his head to meet your eyes.

the picnic you had was situated by the cliff, on a grassy plain behind the rocks where the view of the sea could still be seen. your recent convenient store purchases of gimbap and cup ramyeon and your favourite fizzy drinks were littered across the blanket, waiting to be consumed by two hungry adults.

it was his idea to take a train here for a weekend getaway, renting a car and even booking a hotel room.

whether he booked one or two, you didn’t ask.

“on the first day we met, why did you decide to talk to me? why even help me at all?” you sipped on your drink, the sweetness bringing about nostalgia from the past of when you were younger and had a sweeter tooth than now.

“to be honest,” wonwoo scratched the nape of his neck. “you reminded me a little of myself back in high school, so confined within the walls of your own mind.”

before you could defend yourself teasingly, he added,

“and you were beautiful, more than anyone i’d ever seen.”

with that you were left speechless.

“wonwoo, i—“

“i know everything between us right now is strictly platonic,” he began. “but you have to hear me out on this.”

you nodded.

“the thing is i-“ he averted his gaze from you to the blues of the waters below as he said, barely a whisper. “i like you.”

your lips parted, your blood rushing like rapids in your ears. “wonwoo.”

“i like you,” he said again, in case his words got lost in the wind.

you took a moment to digest it.

his deep voice, his tall frame, his broad shoulders. he was attractive, and hell of course you knew that. anyone with eyes would.

with wonwoo, however, it was beyond that.

your safe haven where you went to just let go, to be free, wasn’t a place.

it was by wonwoo’s side, quite literally.

throughout the many mental breakdowns you had over the course of your job, he was the first one who came to mind when you were in need of relief. to be frank, you probably knew wonwoo had your heart as soon as you laid eyes on him.

you loved him before you even knew it.

the crash of waves and seagulls squawking away into the open led you out of your reverie.

his eyes, squinted from the sunlight, was still aimed at you. his teeth nibbled on his bottom lip, his fingers fidgeting. it was a habit he had, especially when he was nervous.

there was something that snapped in you that you just thought, fuck it, leaned over to cup your hands under his jaw, and pulled him in. you didn’t touch his lips, yet.

you let your mouth linger by his for a moment, your eyes fluttering.

he took a sharp inhale between your lips, insinuating that his nerves had not calmed.

you simply laughed and pressed your lips on his. the impact made you fall into his embrace, your body falling atop of his clumsily. his lips were soft on yours, slowly stretching into a smile as if he’d just realised the girl he wanted was kissing him. his arms wound tight around your waist to tug you closer.

his sugary taste was addicting, the skillful tease of his tongue across your bottom lip flaring up foreign sensations deep within you. arms wrapping around his neck, you remained in this position for a hot minute, till you both ran out of breath.

pulling away for air, you held yourself up with hands against the blanket.

“i love you,” you whispered into his ear.

after hearing that wonwoo flipped you over. his face bore a surreal glow when he hovered over you, flashing his pearly whites at you. “i changed my mind.”

“how so?” you raised a brow, a smirk teasing your lips.

“i don’t like you,” he lowered himself down to whisper into your ear.

“you don’t?” you smiled even more, knowing exactly what he meant.

“yeah,” he nuzzled his nose into your neck. “i looooove you.”

“you corny prick,” your chuckle was vibrant, like the blue of the sky above. it reverberated, prominently, against his chest, a melody he never wanted to forget. your fingers threaded through his soft hair, savouring the feeling of his steady heartbeat against your own.

“says the one who kissed me without saying anything first,” he offered grin of his own as he rose back up.

“actions speak louder than words.”

“they do, don’t they?”

just like that, everything you wanted, colour, had bled into your life like the prettiest of paints.

#kwritersworldnet #seventeen #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo angst #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo drabbles #wonwoo x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen drabbles

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malfoys-demigod · 4 years

Text

Mistletoe

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: After 5 years in America, the reader comes back home to enjoy a party hosted by the Potters/Weasleys and maybe... a mistletoe surprise?

A/N: Merry Christmas, everyone! I’ve been busy but I’ve also been wanting to do a Draco fic. Enjoy and happy holidays (whichever event you celebrate!) It’s not the best but I hope you like it.

Word Count: 1.7k

Taglist @the--queen-of-hell @bbeauttyybbx

“Would you like a cup of tea with your frosted cupcake, madam?” asked the house elf.

She shook her head, smiling politely, “I’d love a fresh cup of joe instead, thank you.”

The elf tilted his head, narrowing his confused eyes, “Pardon me, madam, but what exactly is a cup of joe?”

Embarrassment started filling up the oxygen she was breathing as her eyes started growing bigger with realization that the term was not widely known in British soils. She chuckled to herself awkwardly, “Oh-”

“It’s a fresh cup of coffee, Hokey,” a voice from behind said, “I believe it’s an American saying.”

Hokey nodded, going back to his work as he started brewing Y/N’s coffee. While this was going on, she turned around, to meet the owner of the voice from behind. It turned out to be Draco Lucius Malfoy, who seemed to be casually smirking, placing both his hands on the pockets of his trousers, looking at her from top to bottom.

“Well, well, well,” he happily said, “If it isn’t Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Hello to you too, Draco Malfoy,” she nonchalantly greeted him, copying his gesture of calling you by her first and last name. “And how were you aware of this American slang?” she asked, crossing your arms.

Draco’s smirk only got wider, when he took her cupcake, getting a small, smooth bite from it. “And why should I tell you?”

“Because I’d like to thank you, for saving me from utter embarrassment with my American customs.” she lied, as she just wanted to know how he could translate such an American saying for it was different in England.

Draco leaned in, seeming as if he was actually going to tell her. She peered in as he said, “I have a better way for you to thank me.” Her utter disappointment in his reply resulted in her leaning back, slapping his arm forcefully. “Douche,” she muttered. As Draco winced in pain, laughing lightly, she took her coffee and made a bee-line to the other side of the room.

She found familiar faces such as the hosts, Ginny and Harry Potter, with their best friends, Hermione and Ron Weasley. A wave of relief flushed on her face as she walked straight to them. “Hello, everyone,” she greeted relievingly.

The group turned to Y/N, hugging her out, as they smiled at her merrily. “Enjoying the party, Y/N? It’s probably not the same as you do it in America, but it’s lovely, ain’t it?” Ron asked politely.

“Nothing beats a traditional English party like having English turkey on Christmas Day, Ron.” she confidently replied, cheering her coffee mug with his. “Although I thought there would be more gentlemen in this part of the world.” she muttered loudly, giving them a confused face.

“What exactly do you mean by that, Y/N?” Harry asked.

Y/N shook her body, gesturing that she was shaking off bad vibes from her system. “Nothing much, only that Malfoy came up to me just a few minutes ago. Same old flirt to all, am I right?”

There was a mix of emotional replies from the group, causing Y/N to get puzzled. Harry and Ron shook their heads at each other, smiling cheekily while Hermione and Ginny let out a small laugh with each other.

Y/N narrowed her eyebrows, “I don’t understand. Is it really that funny?”

“Heavens no,” Hermione said, “You’re wrong, Y/N!”

“Wrong?” the staggered girl asked, “What do you mean?”

“Go on, Harry,” Ron prompted his best friend, “Tell her!”

Harry nodded, looking at you, smiling cheerfully, “Ever since you’ve left for America, Draco slightly changed.”

You walked forward, interested in what Harry was saying, “Uh-huh, go on, Potter.”

“Well, he hasn’t been the same old flirt to many ever since YOU left.” Harry grinned.

Despite not understanding what they were trying to tell her, she nodded confusingly, “Right,” she said, “Did something happen to him? Did he lose his memory? His charisma? Because earlier he seemed quite-”

“Goodness, Y/N!” Hermione exclaimed tiredly, “How could you possibly not get it?”

“Get what?” Y/N asked, surprised at Hermione’s tone of voice.

“Can’t you tell that the reason he hasn’t been the same old flirst was because he only had eyes for you?” Ginny questioned her.

“Catching a job in MACUSA meant catching an American boy from his point of view too,” Harry backed Ginny up.

“You do have an American suitor, or not, Y/N?” Ron asked curiously.

The flooding of information got Y/N to shake her head madly, as she waved off everything with her hands. “Not that I know of,” she teased lightly. Although, she wanted to go back to the topic the others seemed to be serious about. “But could you elaborate more on what you were talking about?” she asked, looking back at the rest.

Hermione, tired of this play, rolled her eyes, “He’s only had eyes for you Y/N!”

Y/N shook her head lightly with denial, “That’s absurd,” she chuckled lightly to herself, “That can’t be right.”

“How so?” Harry wondered.

“I-I just never caught any visible signs,” she shrugged, her tone going higher. “He usually teased and flirted but I never really thought it would lead to any signs. And when he asked me to the Yule Ball? I thought he was joking!”

“That was bloody embarrassing on his end. Going with Parkinson while she went with who’s-his-face.” Ron muttered to Harry, who seemed to nod in agreement.

Ginny shook her head, grinning at Y/N’s blind self, “Oh, Y/N, the things you made Malfoy go through.” Like a light-bulb that sparked on top of her head, she immediately grinned more, looking at Y/N. “Y/N, have you ever fancied him? You can’t just go around, letting him tease and flirt with you all those years without feeling something, right?”

Y/N looked down at the ground, quickly contemplating on her answer. She gulped, looking back up at the whole group, Ginny in particular. “Well, perhaps once or twice. But I always thought that it the idea of him and I wouldn’t happen. So, I never really went on about feeling something towards him.”

“Well, we’re really glad you haven’t found yourself an American suitor during your five years at MACUSA. Malfoy’s changed, in a good way, and you two deserve each other.” Ron stated proudly.

“Yeah?” Y/N asked, causing herself to smile.

“Yeah,” Harry said, as the rest nodded. “You should probably head back to him. He’s by the drinks booth.” he nodded, motioning Y/N to turn and check that Draco was exactly where she left him.

Y/N took a deep breath and started making her way back to Hokey’s booth, passing through the wave of many other familiar faces, who were filling up the whole floor. Draco was quietly drinking something from his cup, facing Hokey, who seemed to be busy to even bother ask if Draco wanted a refill of his drink.

“Two glasses of your best champagne please, Hokey.” Y/N announced herself, leaning at the bar. This caught Draco’s attention, as his face was now livelier since Y/N was back. It was her turn to start the conversation with Draco, although he was quicker in terms of opening his mouth.

“So,” he spoke, “I see you’re having a grand time but are you sure you can drink two glasses at once?”

“I can’t,” she chuckled, “That’s why the other one is for you.” she reached for the glass Hokey served, giving it to Draco, who muttered a small thanks.

“Also, I realized something.” she pointed out.

“And what is that, dear Y/N?” he asked casually, looking at Y/N with such fascination.

Y/N gulped quickly, knowing it was now or never. “Well I realized I was rude during our first encounter earlier.”

“Rude?” he wondered, but chuckling.

“Well yes!” she justified herself, “It’s highly assumptious that you were expressing a crude joke, which is something that you normally express and since I haven’t been used to that in sometime since I was in America, I may or may not have taken it in lightly and I called you a douche which I’m quite sorry-”

“Hang on, darling, take a breather first, you’re rambling.” Draco stopped her, placing his hands on her shoulders with a confused smile.

Y/N stopped as requested, looking at him with a tilted, uneasy head.

Draco continued the minute he saw that she was cooling down. “Right,” he said, “Crude joke?” he highlighted the phrase she was rambling about.

Y/N slowly nodded with a raised eyebrow.

“I honestly don’t see what’s so crude about a mistletoe opportunity.” he thought, shaking his head.

Y/N shook her head as well, but in confusion. “M-mistletoe opportunity?”

“Yeah,” he laughed, pointing up at the ceiling.

Y/N nervously looked up to see a hanging mistletoe, shining above the two. Hearing a small chuckle from Draco, she looked back at him, chuckling embarrassing as she stroked her hair. “Oh.” she said. “Draco I’m-”

Her apology was interrupted when Draco placed his hands on Y/N’s face, cupping her cheeks as he pulled in for a deep, passionate kiss as he took advantage of the mistletoe moment.

Y/N’s uneasy figure started relaxing as she started kissing Draco back, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly.

Draco pulled back, grinning politely, looking at her soft, sweet eyes. “Thank goodness for the mistletoe or I wouldn’t have had the chance to do that.”

“What a shame you couldn’t have planted one in our Hogwarts years while you were immensely head over heels for me as an adolescent.” she smirked, looking at his now-red cheeks.

He looked down, smiling still, but shyly. “It’s a shame you couldn’t see how head over heels I was as an adolescent.” he chuckled, “I take it either the Weasley’s or Potter’s have told you?” he looked at her.

Y/N nodded, giggling. “I guess it was never too late, right?”

“Never.” he agreed, brushing back a strand of her hair back into the back of her ear.

Y/N placed her hand on Draco’s forearm, which he brought down for her, now holding his hand. She looked down at his hand, squeezing it tight. When she looked up, she smiled. “Happy holiday’s, Draco.”

“Happy holiday’s, Y/N and welcome back home. I missed you dearly.” he greeted, placing a kiss on her forehead.

#draco malfoy x reader #Draco Malfoy #Draco Malfoy Imagines #Draco Malfoy x Y/n #Draco Malfoy fanfiction #Harry Potter x Reader #draco malfoy fluff #fluff

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vminity21 · 4 years

Text

Wishes instead of Weeds | jhs

Pairing: DanceTeacher!Hoseok x Waitress!Reader, Pharmacist!Jeongguk x Female!Reader

Word Count: 22,502

Genre: angst/fluff/romance/smut

Warning(s): angst involving heartbreak, strong language use, mention of alcohol, eventual smut, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, breast worship, smutty kissing, potential slow burn? Rated: M

Summary: After an unexpected breakup, you find yourself living day by day wanting nothing more than to be happy again. Though your best friend M and your co-workers bring a smile to your face, the restaurant's regular, Jung Hoseok, happens to be a new light that shines in your life even though you don't realize it at first.

The corner of a faded picture is pressed between your fingertips before thumbing away at some clustered debris covering his face. “Shit,” you whisper between grit teeth, letting your jeans slip from your lap to lightly plop upon the ground. Laundry has been finished hence why the discovery of the picture being found in the pocket brings a wince of pain considering it is one of the few memories you have of the two of you. Your grip loosens to where the photo sways landing face down on the table, your palms sliding along your face and into your hair, sniffling back whatever tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

Jeongguk left you without any warning.

It’s been a few weeks, but the blow to the chest still feels as fresh as it did the night you came home from an already eventful day at work, stepping into the kitchen, curling your fingers around the handle of the fridge to notice upon opening it that he still hadn’t eaten his leftovers from his favorite restaurant the pair of you frequented a few evenings prior. In fact, your eyebrows creased when you remembered he never came home last night, nor was he in bed when you awoke that morning to chilly covers and a strange feeling harboring your heart. The burning question prompted you to trail to your room, seeing a letter laying crinkled at the end of the exposed mattress.

You would think you would have panicked, dialing his number countless times until he answered, or even sent a bundle of text messages begging him to tell you where he is- if he’s okay, but knowing how he is a man of space, you did nothing of the sort. None of it changed the way your heart shattered into a million pieces when the words stared back at you, haunting you every night sparking more questions than you wanted to deal with. Nothing prepared you for the endless dread of nausea and the empty feeling consuming your entire being, or the loss of his presence mingled with the hopeless dream of him reappearing to tell you he’s sorry for what he’d done to you. But, there’s nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Hugging your knees to your chest, a faint aroma of his cologne wafts from his jacket hung over the chair across from you. Uncertain of why it had been thrown into the trash, you couldn’t bear to let it go to waste, so instead, it now remains in your vision in hopes of being reunited with its rightful owner. And even now, as tears drip from your chin, you ponder on where everything went wrong, only to find not one answer to reveal itself. There was hardly any fighting. If there were to be a time where the pair of you disagreed upon a matter, Jeongguk would lace your fingers with his, sit you down to discuss the topic at hand. It always resulted in loving grins before he’d lean in to feather a small kiss to your lips.

He told you he loved you as he always did which never incited any suspicions, and though he had his moments of distance, that had never been anything new to you because in the few years of being his girlfriend, he had the days that he wanted to himself in which you gladly let him have. Every decision made, even if it involved a situation as simple as picking a place to eat, both of you would name three places of choice and if a mutual restaurant was said aloud, that would be the result of the evening. Conversation, from what you can decipher, may have dimmed partially, but not much exciting has happened to really talk about other than the promotions of each of your jobs. Hence why there was a celebration at Jeongguk’s favorite restaurant.

You have replayed every scenario from the beginning of the relationship to the end over and over in a relentless loop to the unhealthy point that a slight thud of a headache creates. How can someone leave their significant other, whom they claim they love, without a reason behind it? Even if their reasoning wouldn’t make any sense, at least they have a reason to share. Feeling weak, you rest your chin on your knees, the wrinkled letter that was left for you to find has been placed upon the table only a short distance from the photo you were holding. ‘I’m sorry,’ is scribbled directly in the center of the paper.

Jeongguk never had anything to be sorry for in your mind, until now. With a long, shaky exhale, you use the hem of your sleeve to dry your face, gradually standing to your feet with the intention of putting away the folded laundry to then arranging for bed. Due to your promotion, you’re thankful to discover that you will be making enough money to at least pay the bills for the apartment; with the sudden change of being alone that was one of your top concerns, also not wanting your mother to find out knowing she would send you money immediately. You want to avoid the confession of the breakup, too, because you do not want to feel like a burden to anyone, even if you may have felt that way to him, though you’re not sure if you will ever know. Robotically, the next hour achingly completes before you slip under the sheets, hoping that your day tomorrow will bring you at least a tad bit of strength.

Strong scents of coffee and bacon greet your nose as it does every morning when you arrive at your job that you happen to call your second home. A family member of yours owns the diner that daintily sits off the side of the road surrounded by a recently mowed lawn, and rustic flowerpots gifted by people of the town where a florist visits to ensure the plants will be watered. You’ve always loved the aura of the area, especially with the way people seemed to treat each other, and despite your title being a waitress, which Jeongguk’s parents used to shame until he had stood up for you, you do receive good benefits here. Patting your chest frantically, the rectangular piece of your nametag is felt which relieves you that you hadn’t forgotten about it this morning, bringing enough distraction from the inner heartache you’re trying to suppress.

Clocking in, you briskly scoop up a notepad, helping your co-workers with the breakfast rush; you were promoted to being the assistant manager since you’ve been waitressing here for many years, and thankfully your shifts end at 5:30 pm when your relative takes over, giving you the evenings to yourself. You are mainly responsible for keeping the shelves stocked- placing orders for whatever supplies are needed as well as handling the drawers to ensure the money count is accurate. When you notice one of the employees, Park Jimin is waiting one of the only tables left once the crowd minimizes momentarily, you saunter to the kitchen to check on the chefs since you unfortunately missed greeting them this morning.

“Hey, [Y/N]!” Chef Von says, his puffy cheeks squinting his eyes from how wide he’s smiling- he slaps slabs of meat onto the grill, the sizzling sound popping in your ears, “Are you ready for today?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be!” You reply, squeezing his large shoulder, “What about you?”

“Always,” he chuckles, taking tongs to lightly press the meat harder onto the crackling grill. Another chef, Kim Seokjin, is working on shoving pans of biscuits into the oven, then turning to slice some fruit set off to the side while the dough bakes. Your number one priority when given the chance upon starting your shift is checking on every employee to ensure they’re okay. When all give positive answers, you shuffle behind one of the main counters when first walking into the building to see if any customers need refills. The ding of the door alerts you once you pour a mug of coffee for an individual sitting off to the side, your gaze averting to recognize the tall, thin figure of the restaurant’s regular, Jung Hoseok, hands cuddled into the pockets of his coat, swiftly stepping to the same seat at the counter he occupies every single morning.

A small grin tugs at the corner of your lips, “Long time no see,” you tease, watching the brief tilt of his head that follows a contagious smile, “You want your usual?”

He’s still chuckling, ears bent slightly from the pressure of his cap hiding the majority of his curly hair that peeks enough to decorate his forehead, “You know me so well,” he caves into your joke, clasping his hands together after resting his arms on the counter. Steaming coffee is currently being poured in a mug which you then serve him, “Thank you,” he says, nodding once.

“Of course!” You maintain a cheery façade despite how empty you feel inside, and partly paying attention to what you just jotted down, you place the ticket for Hoseok’s order on the spinning scale before Seokjin swipes it to get started. You divert yourself into cleaning tables that are now vacant from customers, getting lost in the fifteen minutes of helping your co-workers; stacking a pile of plates into your hands you spin on a heel in the direction of the kitchen when someone outside the windows of the restaurant causes you to pause in shock, the plates slipping from your hands where they clash and bang into numerous shattered pieces on the tile floor. Biting your tongue to prevent from cursing, panic overwhelms you while a deep shade of red crimsons your cheeks and chest, sweat perspiring the lining of your forehead from the tension of stares not leaving your frame. By mistake, you thought you saw… But it wasn’t him at all. Jogging to retrieve a broom and dustpan, you sweep the glass shards as efficient as you can, until the silhouette of a co-worker, enters your peripherals.

“Are you okay?” Your best friend, Monica, who you normally call M, asks once you’re a quarter of the way into cleaning.

“Ye-yeah. Yeah,” you stutter, trying to ignore the evident humiliation planted within your expression. M investigates the way your widened eyes have yet to calm, seeing right through your reply.

“I think you need to take a few minutes to breathe,” she offers, and when you can’t seem to clear your head enough to listen, she lightly touches your wrist, “[Y/N], it’s okay, I’ll finish up. Go ahead, take a moment.”

You meet her eyes before nodding in defeat, your quivering chin is enough to tell her that you really haven’t been okay, though she’s unaware of why. The warmth of outside is enough to soothe your skin, your feet determined to make it to one of the picnic tables located on the side of the restaurant where gratefully not a soul happens to be inhabiting. In frustration, you’ve done well masking the truth underlying your hollow smile, or so you thought, but dropping onto the bench, you bury your face in your hands blocking out the crying you fight to hold back.

“Hey…” A tender voice belonging to that of a male springs your gaze up from your stiff hands, shoulders slumping in relief to see it’s Hoseok, though concern clouds his almond eyes.

“I’m- I’m sorry. I hope all that noise didn’t disturb your breakfast,” you apologize, clearly embarrassed, though your grin doesn’t reach your eyes.

Hoseok’s lips part, “No, not at all, in fact, I came to see if you were okay,”

“I am,” you lie because really you are nowhere close to it, but knowing Hoseok made his way to come check on you really means a lot; him being a customer for two years, it’s not like he’s completely a stranger, so at least there’s not any awkward tension.

“Okay, well I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to sit here until you’re okay,” he says, swinging his thin leg over the seat across from you.

“But- but I am okay-” Obviously caught off guard, Hoseok holds an index finger up to stop you,

“Your nametag is upside down.”

“Huh-” Eyes falling to where your nametag is clipped, you mentally scold yourself because although you felt to make sure you hadn’t forgotten it this morning, you didn’t even think to check to make sure you had placed it correctly, “How did I miss that?” You mutter.

“Also, you’ve been chewing on your lips nonstop since you’ve been here today,” he mentions, you clamping your lips in a firm line when you realize you have been giving them a good gnawing, a habit you only do when under extreme stress. “And,” his gaze flickers to the tip of his converse scraping against the pavement, “I always order a side of pancakes with chocolate syrup. But today I got French toast instead.”

Oh shit, you gasp, eyes widening in horror because the name of the person you do not want to speak of- his favorite is French toast which you accidentally wrote on Hoseok’s order without even realizing. “Oh my gosh, Hoseok,” you pinch the bridge of your nose in shame, “I am so, so sorry. I can’t believe I did that,”

“My point,” he leans forward holding your eyes where worry for your wellbeing hasn’t diminished, “[Y/N]? Are you okay?”

Sadness drowns your mind prompting a brief sigh to brush over your dry lips. Hoseok watches you, and while you concentrate on how overwhelming everything has been, there are details about you he’s noticed that you wouldn’t even notice about yourself; Hoseok is known to be very observant, in some cases, it is a blessing more than a curse, especially when it comes to people he is interested in. With steady hands, you rest them on the picnic table, the cycle of notions running a thousand miles per minute.

When the slam of a car door interrupts the moment, you direct your attention to the sound. A male, with gray strands of hair complimenting a black headband, fumbles with his keys pressing a button that signifies the locking of his car. In one hand, he’s holding what looks like a bouquet of roses; his black sweatshirt brightening the deep shade of red in the sunlight. Your eyes blink to the entrance of the restaurant where you see M, with her palms to her face, jump with excitement as she runs to the man, throwing her arms around his neck. You can’t help the happy flutter in your heart as you watch the guy tighten his arms around her back burying his head into her purple hair, cherishing every second of her as the two sway from side to side.

Memories of…. The person you do not want to name comes to mind, reminding you of the days you realized you were falling in love with him where moments of doses involving the tip of your nose buried into the crook of his warm collar. You catch Hoseok looking back at the adorable couple still enveloped in each other’s embrace, then reverting to glimpse at you. Meeting his gape, but only for a second, you look down towards your frail hands, ignoring the sudden urge to cry, “No,” you murmur, “No, I’m not okay.”

M pulls away, her smile joyous, accepting the bundle of roses. The guy rests his hand on her cheek leaning in for a kiss. You wonder who he is, especially since M has never mentioned a boyfriend, at least not around you, but you inwardly voice that you haven’t been very talkative as of late either. Regardless, your heart melts for her as you watch the couple hand in hand walk into the restaurant.

“Hey,” Hoseok’s tone is endearing- the kind you hear before someone pats the back of your hand in a way to make things seem better. Your heart is so broken, the cheery frontage you have been faking is slowly unzipping, exposing a layer of you that you didn’t want anyone to see.

“I’m-I’m sorry, Hoseok,” you stand to your feet avoiding eye contact, using your palms to smooth out your uniform. “I should get back to work.” Power walking to the entrance of your job, you do not look back, even though you feel guilty for dodging someone who was doing nothing more than being polite. Prolonged stares of your coworkers are a given, especially with how close-knit everyone is, but you can’t let that distract you from your work, so until the end of your shift rolls around, you help take orders to get caught up. It’s all a blur when you find yourself in your car, tentatively focusing on the drive home to when you safely park.

The light is dimming outside and once you turn the key in the ignition, the engine silences, and you lean back in your seat, closing your eyes as you swallow the lump building in your throat. Just call him, those words have echoed various times since Jeongguk’s disappearance, yet you can’t seem to collect enough courage to dial his number. Excuses swarm in your mind; he’s probably busy, maybe he’s with his family, maybe he’s at work; and, you haven’t been able to put how much you wish you knew how he’s been doing to rest; honestly, not much of anything involving him has been put to rest, because how can any closure come from something so hurtful such as this? As much as you want to be angry right now, you can’t bring yourself to be, especially with how much you agonizingly miss him. When you open your eyes, you let out a long exhale through your nose trying to calm the nerves stemming beneath your chest.

You can’t take this anymore. You just need to do it. You need to call him. You need to hear his voice no matter how much it destroys you. No more dithering, you grab your phone, sifting through your contacts until you land on his name. In one quick second, you click it, the screen igniting to show it is dialing. Raising the phone to your ear, you swallow, your mouth uncomfortably dry; your fingertips ice cold while you anxiously wait, each dial pounding in unison with the headache that is now forming. C’mon Guk, C'mon, you interiorly plead, tears glistening in the corner of your eyes, squeezing them shut.

“Hello, this is Jeon Jeongguk, sorry I couldn’t take your call-”

“Damnit!” you wail, hanging up abruptly, tossing your phone into the passenger side. That is the first you’ve heard him speak rounding up to a month, and though no one is watching, your hands hover over your face where you choke out breathy sobs, wishing you never attempted to call. He must think you’re weak, you torture yourself with mindless insecurities, but still, where is he? Which then sparks the next question, do you really want to know? What feels to make matters worse is how you profusely wish he was just here. Right next to you where you used to think he belonged- holding your hand in his especially on nights where you needed his comfort most. None of this makes any sense, because where in the world did you go wrong? Why does this all make you feel like this is completely your fault? What if he ever says you hadn’t tried hard enough? What if-?

The vibration of your phone causes you to jolt, your heart thrumming in your temples as your eyes glued to the phone light reflecting in your car window. With careful hands, you reach for the device, turning it to see who is calling. A sigh of relief fills you when you see the initial M staring back at you. Snorting back as much mucus as you can, you wipe under your eyes one final time before answering.

“Hello,” you wince at the stuffy noise of your voice hoping M doesn’t notice.

“You are the nosiest, inquisitive, you-better-tell-me-now-before-I-cut-you, woman I have ever known, and yet you didn’t ask one- Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m sorry, M,” your laughter is hoarse, “I didn’t mean to ignore you today. But yes. Yes, I would like to know who this man of yours is,” you sniff, the tear stains feeling sticky on your reddened cheeks. “Now, tell me.”

“Not until you get your ass over here,”

“But-”

“I’ve got wine.” She teases; her persuasive, chirpy voice echoing on the line. “Besides, it’s been a while since we’ve had some girl time. So, I suggest you hurry over here before I down this entire bottle!”

“I’m on my way.” You change into some comfy clothes before you leave, arriving in record time, M greeting you at her door dawned in yoga pants and a black sweatshirt which you wonder is from the mystery man who visited her at work earlier today.

“Who’s is that?” you pester, descending onto a bar stool sitting in front of M’s marble counter, the cool material blanketing your arms where you choose to lay them. She shoots you a playful glance, her purple hair covering the fronts of her shoulders.

“Yoongi’s,” she coos, her eyes averting to timidly browsing at the open bottle of red wine.

“Ah, Yoongi? How cute.”

“Oh, shut up,” she pours the both of you a glass, the two of you making cheers before taking a few sips, letting the strong taste pool on your tongue before swallowing.

“Now,” you say, setting your glass down for a moment, “Confess.”

M shakes her head, rolling her eyes before she takes another sip, “We dated in middle school.” Raising your eyebrows in interest, you nod for her to continue. “He ended up moving away, so of course being 12 and broke, we had no choice but to break up.” Her fingers ghost her wine glass to play with the strings at the neckline of the sweatshirt while reminiscing upon her story, “Crazy enough, a few months ago, he got back in touch with me, and I learned that he’s attending University in our town. He’s rooming with his childhood best friend right now. It just amazes me that he remembered me after all this time.”

“You’re the first person he thought of,” you remark.

“Yeah,” she sighs dreamily, her light shade of brown eyes sparkles in the kitchen light, “he surprised me today because his professor canceled class. It’s funny how it works, you know? Love happens when you least expect it.”

And, so does heartbreak, you force a smile to yourself after a long gulp of the bitter liquid, your eyes staring at your hand now cupping the glass, clinking it carefully with your fingernails, you try to shun any thoughts of…. from your mind without any luck. “[Y/N]?” M’s voice is soft and you’re not sure how long you’ve been zoned out, but you smile at her apologetically. “I’ve been quite worried about you lately. You haven’t been your buoyant self, so what gives?”

“I’m sorry, just a little tired.”

There’s a mini pause, one where M gathers her words before choosing to continue, “You know you never answered me earlier.” She mentions, and you chew at your lips as a canopy of guilt floods your vision. You still haven’t told a soul about the breakup, and M is your closest friend and coworker, and you can’t help feeling ashamed for keeping this from her. “And noting the dried dot of mascara on your cheek, I know something’s up.” Your fingertips fly to your face. “Other side,” and you move your hand to rub harshly at the skin.

“Thank you,” you whisper, bringing your fingertips to your mouth, squeezing your eyes shut while a stab of pain enters your already tainted heart. “He left,” is all you can muster, flinching at the thought of his name. Realization commences M’s expression because her eyes widen, her mouth forming an “O” shape in the reaction to how much she did not expect your words.

“Oh [Y/N], I am so sorry. I had no idea-”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I haven’t told anyone… Not even my mom,” you confess- the rest of the wine in your glass calling your name as you try to prevent your heart from crashing again.

“Did he-?” M begins, her eyebrows furrowed in concern, and even though cheating is a potential possibility on the list of why people breakup, you grimace, not wanting to let the thought consume you.

“No. I don’t- I don’t know. He just left without any explanation.”

“What?” M murmurs in disbelief, “I never thought-”

“Me neither,” you down the rest of the wine from your glass not wanting to speak of the situation any longer; as an alternative, you gesture for M to pour you some more. She hesitates at first but dispenses the crimson beverage anyways.

“You know we have work tomorrow,” she reminds you though you engulf your second glass without delay since the buzz you’re gaining lightens the load weighing heavy on your soul.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you whine, clumsily reaching for the wine bottle, M grasping it away from you.

“No, ma’am. For someone who barely drinks, you sure are determined to steal it all.”

“It’s for a good cause,”

“Nah- ah!” M taps your hand away after your third attempt, “Your sanity is important. Now, go lay down. If there’s anything you really need, it’s a good night’s sleep.”

You groan, “Why do you have to be such a good friend,” you sag, M rounding the counter to put an arm underneath your shoulders.

“Because I am the bee’s knees.” She banters, helping you relax onto the couch. She leaves the room temporarily, bringing back a blanket to lay over your exhausted frame. “Goodnight, you drunk.” She teases when you sluggishly peer up at her.

“Goodnight, you killjoy.”

“Hey, you’ll thank me when you awaken without a splitting headache.”

“And, I’ll believe it when I arise from this couch at seven in the AM.”

She makes it to the entrance leading into the hallway to her bedroom while you cuddle into the blanket with immense appreciation; M pauses to look behind her shoulder at you, laughter echoing throughout the tiny living room. After a moment, gratitude overcomes you. “Thank you for tonight,” you beam, thankful to have a friend like her. M is the reason you make it through your shifts a hundred percent of the time; even on days like this when you feel so desolate, and you can’t even see the positivity right in front of you, M knows how to bring the best out of you, hence why the two of you have been stuck like glue since the day you met.

She holds your gaze, “Always… And [Y/N]?”

“Hm,” you grunt groggily, feeling the heavy flutters of your eyelids begging for slumber, but your ears perk enough, especially when M’s next words bring hushed tears to your tired eyes.

“You’ll get through this; I have no doubt. Whatever is going on, he made his choice. He’s running from this because he’s ashamed of something.”

Though the words echo in the night, they place themselves into your conscious until you drift into sleep- He’s running from this because he’s ashamed of something- and when dreams start to encompass your conscious, by some miracle you forget- you forget about the person who originally had been on your mind.

The following morning, you almost do not recognize where you are when your groggy eyelids open just enough to realize you are laterally pressed upon the couch of M’s; shadows of plants decorated throughout the living room clear into your peripherals once you shift your weight to lay onto your back. Uncertain of the time, you’re aware it’s way too early to prepare for work, but you also regret not packing a bag last night although you didn’t quite plan to drink as much as you did. For now, you stare at the ceiling, counting the imaginary stars you wish would align to a brighter path versus the sadness returning to plague your heart yet again.

He hadn’t appeared in your dreams this time, which alludes to the pondering question of why. Figuring it may have to do with not waking up in your bedroom, where he used to lay beside you, could potentially be the daunting reason, and you swallow the budding lump in your throat pleading with your memories to stay repressed as much as possible, but it’s no use. Jeongguk used to slip his strong arm around you every night, his solid chest pressed to your back before he’d touch a slow, warm kiss to your temple that sent tingles across your skin. And, it was always your safe place. The one part of your day that you always looked forward to, where his closeness brought you some form of peace that you needed. But… now that you think of it, he discontinued that routine maybe within the last six months before he fled, and the realization makes you want to beat yourself up for ignoring what could have been the biggest sign that something hadn’t been right.

This isn’t your fault.

Automatically, you squeeze your eyes shut before rubbing them roughly with your fingertips, begging to stop this nonsense of blaming yourself. You know this isn’t your fault, yet the pain doesn’t fade away enough to find some form of relief. It’s then, you rush to your feet, folding M’s blanket to nestle into the corner of the couch before slipping on your shoes and grabbing onto your keys and wallet before quietly treading out the door. There’s just enough time to throw in a quick shower before performing your daily morning list the second you reach your home- freshening up until you eventually find yourself in the driver’s seat, slowly turning the key until the roar of your car awakens.

You remember him like it was yesterday. Or every yesterday in between. Where he placed his large hand on your thigh as you kept your laughing eyes on the road. Every song that came on the radio, Jeongguk would sing to, holding his bunny smile while you cheered him on, letting his vibrato whisk you away into a giddy world where you hoped and prayed it would never end. But it did, you want to scream in pure frustration, because it seems no matter where or what you do, everything reminds you of him. And it’s not fucking fair. The lining of your jaw tenses when you notice the gritting of your teeth, and the stiff way your hands grip the steering wheel as you drive. It’s not like you can help it with the breakup still being so fresh, but you wish time would heal much faster than how it’s been in the last month.

Smoky smells of savory meat waft in the air while your shoes crunch along the gravel lot; few cars are parked meaning the morning crowd hasn’t officially arrived, so with quick precision, you clock in, bursting into the kitchen to greet the chefs who are in the process of chopping vegetables in fast motion against large cutting boards.

“I still don’t get how you two do that without cutting your fingers off,” you tease, eyes widening as they slice- shaking your head in disbelief.

Seokjin shrugs, “Practice makes perfect,” his plump lips form an eloquent smirk before gesturing his clear-gloved hand to reveal a few small scars etched on some of his fingers.

“When you’ve been in the business as long as I have, it becomes second nature,” Chef Von’s smile causes his eyes to crinkle at the corners, evident gray hairs shimmer in his trimmed sideburns as he glances down to retrieve more ingredients to cut.

“Well, before I am tempted to see if I can chop some onions at the speed of light, I’m going to take some orders,” turning on a heel to leave the kitchen, Seokjin and Von’s chuckles reverberate behind you, reminding you of how thankful you are for every one of your coworkers. They are your family, which is something you treasure- sending a quick hello to waitress LenLen and waiter Jimin, they rush past to gather whatever was asked of them by their tables. You’re so distracted, you almost miss the brush of M’s shoulder as she ambles past- her way of saying hi after she clocks in, and you smile to yourself as you watch your best friend sprint to take the first table in her section’s order.

It takes a second before you round the counter to make a fresh brew of coffee, refilling an elderly man’s mug, before your eyes raise to see the figure of Jung Hoseok entering the restaurant- the jingle of the doorbell foggy within your ears when a pang of guilt hits your chest at the memory of yesterday. Being you are a professional at your job, you welcome him as though you don’t feel any awkward tension you typically are overthinking, “How are you this morning?” You ask, pouring him a steaming cup of the liquid, carefully sliding it towards him without spilling droplets of the content.

“Dandy!” He chuckles, his thin fingers curling around the handle as he takes a seat.

“Hey, that’s a great answer!” You smile, scribbling the correct order before spinning to pin it where Seokjin can see it.

“Hello, Hoseok!” M bellows, rushing past with a pitcher of water, “Funny seeing you here!”

“Hello to you too, Monnie!”

“Oh my word,” you giggle at her scurried state, “She’s a trooper I tell you,” you admire how hard she works, especially with how many tables she’s willing to tackle at once, and she never once complains.

“How are you?” There’s a concern in his tone that matches his eyes when you give him a knowing look pooling with culpability from when you rudely dodged him. Quickly dropping your gaze, you nervously check your nametag, appreciating that you put it on properly today, then returning his stare with a gentle grin.

“I’m doing well, thank you,”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he says genuinely, and though what you said is partly a lie, the other half of you doesn’t feel as anxious as the day before. Your grin falls a tad when you keep reliving the incident prior, and running your palms along your apron uncomfortably, you decide now must be the right time to apologize since there isn’t many customers currently.

“Hoseok, I um,” you stammer, “I’m so sorry. For yesterday. I shouldn’t have run off like that. It was very rude of me.”

“No need to apologize,” he waves briefly, the corners of his mouth smiling wider in assurance, “You’re fine I promise. I didn’t take any offense to it whatsoever.”

Holding his brown eyes, you are incredibly grateful for his kindness, “Thank you. Really, thank you. It was extremely sweet of you to check up on me.”

“Anytime,” you’ve always loved seeing his smile, which you almost envy, although it is comforting to see every morning especially when you need a pick-me-up. The man has visited the restaurant every single morning for over 730 days, and yet you don’t know a single thing about him other than he orders the same exact thing for breakfast, and that he almost always comes alone.

Swarms of customers bustle into the restaurant putting a kick in your step to seat them, hand out menus and take orders, refilling drinks as you go- the typical morning crowd distracts to where you set aside the thoughts of your personal life for the time being, and once everything settles, you rush to the counter where Hoseok’s order is ready. Cautiously carrying the platter to him, steam rises from the cakes, the smell making your mouth water as a small gurgle erupts from your belly. Unfortunately, you forgot to eat this morning from your rush getting to work, and it reminds you that you hardly have been eating as much since… you shake your head to rid of the person you’re trying to forget.

“Pick a number from one through ten,”

“Huh,”

Hoseok’s words awaken you from your mini zone-out, cutting into the pile of deliciousness- the chocolate drizzle melting further into the layers before his eyes return to his phone screen set out beside him. “Pick a number between one and ten,” he repeats, still gluing his gaze to his cellular device.

Chuckling, confusion is obvious in your demeanor, your hands moving to rest on your hips, “Uh,” you draw out, “Seven.”

“Let’s see,” he murmurs, scrolling through the screen until he pauses, mouthing whatever words he’s reading, “Ah, okay, what is your favorite color?”

“Oh, that’s easy!” You shrug nonchalantly in preparation of answering until you see one of your customer’s almost finished with their plate. “Hold that thought,” you held up an index finger, swiftly checking on your tables, collecting payments, and returning to check on Hoseok once the coast becomes clear. You feel awful when you see that his plate is nearly empty, continuously apologizing for how long it's taken you to get back to him, but he assures you it’s fine considering you’re at your job and that he’s the one who is sorry for distracting you.

“Now,” he leans forward with clasped hands, his plate set to the side along with his empty coffee mug, “What is your favorite color?”

“Purple,” you reply, shifting your weight whilst wiping your hands on a small towel you picked up on the way to check on him, “My favorite color is purple.”

“I think I knew that already,” he ponders for a moment.

“You do? How did you-?”

“You said a while back about that being the reason you knew Monnie was going to be your best friend.”

“Because she has purple hair,” you murmur, finishing his sentence, “I remember that.”

“And your pen is also-”

“Purple,” your fingertips brush against the pen hooked to the hem of your shirt in amazement of his memory being how long it has been since M started.

“Can I borrow it?” His question surprises you at first, but you shrug, pressing your lips together while nodding.

“Sure,” you set it before him, “Keep it, I have an extra.”

With a thumbs up, his eyes are back on his cellphone, “One more,”

“Question?”

“Mhm,”

“Alrighty, uhm.. Ten,”

“What is,” he starts slowly, his gaze in pure concentration, “What is your favorite flower?”

“Good question,” contemplating, you suck in your lips, because your flower of choice has always surprised people, especially since it’s not actually a flower at all. In fact, it is nothing, but a weed in many eyes. “Dandelion. One hundred percent, dandelions.”

“Wow,” Hoseok leans back slightly, “I’ve never heard that one before.”

“Have you ever seen dandelion seeds?”

“I have,”

“Well, if I could say every wish I have made with those things, you’d think I’m insane.”

“Wishes,” he speaks softly as if to himself, but loud enough for you to hear. “You see them as wishes instead of weeds,”

“Always have,” there are moments when the sun shines through the windows but happens to brighten more in certain moments perhaps when clouds move out of the view.

“What’s the biggest wish you’ve ever made if you don’t mind me asking?”

The question catches you off guard, your lips parting with the intention of answering, but with your luck, the signal of the door’s bell is all that is needed to have to interrupt the interesting conversation. It feels good to be asked questions and throwing Hoseok an apologetic glance, you immediately greet the family of four to then lead them to a clean, empty table. Performing your job by checking on your other tables, you scoop up dishes to be taken to the kitchen sink, losing track of time before you can head back to see if Hoseok’s okay. To your dismay, the seat he had occupied is now vacant, and you watch as M quickly sets the coffee mug upon the plate, disappearing into the kitchen with them.

Disappointment clouds you, though you are stunned by that fact. Inching closer to the counter, something enters your vision that you hadn’t realized was there. A green bill sits with what looks to be a ripped sheet of paper with a logo printed on the edge, which you recognize to be from M’s notebook is laying on top. Your fingertips graze the paper, the corner of the bill revealing it to be twenty bucks, which causes you to gasp in surprise considering his breakfast, which you give him a discount due to his customer loyalty and overall politeness, is a whopping $3.20. Your eyes then drop to the note which you observe is written with purple ink:

‘Sorry, had to run.

Keep the change. And I really do hope that you’re okay.

Hoseok : - )’

For safekeeping, the note from Hoseok is folded neatly within your wallet where small treasures gifted from friends remain. Though not highly superstitious, you still consider these reminiscent trinkets as good luck charms, something to bring a smile on your face when you need it the most. Jingling keys are the only sound reverberating in the parking lot before the thumps of your shoes bounce up the stairs. The lights are off as always when you finally enter your home though the vacancy of the atmosphere doesn’t feel like a home plaguing the persistent dread of loneliness. You did, however, inform your mother about the breakup during your drive to the apartment, her muttering under her breath how she knew something was up, yet you dwindled whatever excuses you could to defend him. Though defending him at this point leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

Shoving off your shoes, you hastily prepare for a shower, cleansing the sadness off your frame before drying your hair and throwing on some pajamas to then laying a fresh uniform out for work the following morning. Gazing around the room, you gather the pale white of the walls only decorated with sparse posters of favorite artists as well as replicas of items that have featured in shows that you and… Jeongguk enjoyed. Swallowing roughly, you flit your stare to the dresser drawer where pictures of your family and friends are held in small frames; though you and Jeongguk hardly ever took pictures together, photography or simply delighting in the scenery and family was something the two of you shared. Your fingertips nestle upon the mahogany surface where the smooth wood has a chill to the touch despite the small clouds of dust collecting at the tips of your nails. Wiping the lint onto your sweatpants, you grimace at how unclean you have been as far as maintaining your room, but once you’re home after a long day, it’s hard to get back into the routine of keeping the apartment spotless. Especially when the only thing you desire is to hide under the comforter as if to avoid being reminded of reality.

Intending to power clean on your next day off, you rake a tired hand through your hair, pausing to then wrap your arms around your waist for comfort. It is the jar at the corner of your bedside table that prompts a dreary mist to your eyes. Just a large mason jar filled with extra money in tips that you’ve been able to salvage despite bills, and the first-night discovering Jeongguk’s departure, you sifted through every item in the closet until you found it, where you had originally kept it hidden. IRELAND, printed in bold letters, proudly sticks to the center of the jar reminding you of the plan you had to surprise him, one day, with tickets to both of your dream destination for a romantic getaway. If there was one place the two of you dreamed more than life, it was to escape to Ireland for as long as you both could, to view the scenery hand in hand with triumphant smiles of ‘we made it’ planted across the both of your faces.

When the two of you met, you had just started college, soon discovering college wasn’t for you, but Jeongguk, bright-eyed with a thin-lipped smile, drew you in like no other. He kept you going until you finished out the school year- your family member offering you a job as a waitress, where you work now until you found something that interested you for a lifetime. Jeongguk is a pharmacist, but during his prerequisites, was how the two of you were first introduced; one thing led to another, and before you knew it, he was holding your hand in the hallways; sneaking kisses between classes; gifting you with fortune cookie quotes every time he ordered take out on late nights of essays and online quizzes; snuggling you on the weekends when the two of you were too exhausted to finish an entire movie; driving you at odd hours of the night to purchase your favorite snacks when mother nature came to knock on your door; random adventures to gaze at scenery whether it be the mountains or the beach; and endless conversations of each of your dreams discovering the two of you shared a deep love for a trip to Ireland.

But that dream ended all too soon. Died the moment he wrecked your heart. When tears threaten to spill onto your cheeks, you step to reach for the jar, deciding to hide it away once again. Out of sight, just like the memories, you wish would disappear from your mind. Once under the covers with the hope of feeling safe and sound, you can’t help but miss his presence- pressing the space of the mattress behind you, cuddling his warm face to the back of your neck. The pain seeping into your chest is nearly excruciating mingled with the pleading of not wanting to think about him, but there’s no use.

Jeongguk was your first everything. First kiss, first boyfriend, first roommate, first time, first love. He was the first man to have such a hold over your heart, and you never imagined that he would just let it go- just like that.

Let you go- just like that.

It was two years later when the two of you were both financially stable enough, that you found this apartment and moved in together. And, nearly one year later after that, only weeks leading to the renewal of the lease, here you are, in a chilly bedroom, all alone, with no answers to the million questions as to why.

Why.

Sniffling back the little tears that managed to escape onto the bedsheets, you long for this turmoil to end, restlessly turning onto your back where your eyes squeeze shut.

If there’s anything you wish for, even on countless dandelion seeds,

it’s to be happy again.

The last gulp of your protein shake hits the spot, trekking from your car to the entrance of the restaurant, you mentally prepare yourself for the day ahead – the same repetitive routine: greeting your fellow coworkers with kind smiles along with checking up on their well-being as a good manager and a person does, scamper to check on occupied tables, and take orders of arriving customers once they’ve been seated. Time zips past and while rounding the main counter to check on refills and starting another pot of coffee, you notice Hoseok sipping from his mug, prompting a double-take because a prolonged realization reveals you hadn’t quite recognized him right away without his hat on. Curly tendrils frizzle along his forehead and you take in his innocent eyes sweeping the wall above the kitchen opening where picture frames are present. Approaching him, you observe a black watch adorning his left wrist where he still holds the mug to his lips, and next to him rests a brown paper bag which you assume holds a snack of some sort.

“Hey, Stranger,” you grin at him, and you notice dimples embellish his face from where he returns the smile, settling his beverage before him. “Don’t you get tired of seeing the same little ole’ faces every single day?”

“Not at all,” he chuckles, “It’s practically my job!” Running his fingers along his jaw, then returning to fold his hands in front of him to lean on his elbows. As much as you hate to admit it, no matter how internally it is, you feel guilty at the budding attraction you have welling beneath your sternum that a light shade of pink etches your cheeks. Hoseok has always been a handsome man, but you never seemed to notice until you really started to merely look at him.

The question comes out a little quicker than expected, “Pancakes with chocolate syrup?”

“Pancakes with chocolate syrup,” he nods once in confirmation.

“Coming right up,” you wink, turning to enter the kitchen, bellowing, “Hoseok’s usual!”

“On it like a faucet!” Seokjin’s voice echoes back to you. Turning on a heel, you continue your grand customer service, tending to as many tables, as you can until Hoseok’s order, is up.

“Alright, new number,” he suddenly says as you set his plate of steaming pancakes onto the counter, “Between one and ten, but not seven nor ten.”

Chuckling, you eye him suspiciously at the randomness of it all, yet you’ve always found it delightful to answer questions- it’s fun to search through your own mind and list your interests and hobbies; it’s quite a nice distraction from the bustling of the restaurant, though the crowd has dimmed down enough to have a few minutes with Hoseok. “Uh, five?”

“Okay! What is your favorite food?”

“Ooo,” you coo, placing your palm on your chin while you lean forward upon the counter. It’s not the norm for you to do that, but with fewer people around to be able to stare, the more comfortable you feel to slack just a tad bit. “Beef bulgogi,”

“Next,”

“Next?”

“Next number,”

“Oh!” Shaking your head once you understand, you concentrate to remember which numbers you haven’t said yet, “Two?”

“Favorite animal?”

“Okapi. Eight,”

“Favorite season?”

“Spring. Four,” Sprinting to check on the remaining folks finishing up their plates, you refill drinks and dispose of empty dishes before rushing back to see what question four will be. You find the anticipation to be silly, but a good silly because for once you feel an excitement you’ve been needing for a while.

“Favorite game?”

“Uno. One,” there is only a few more questions to juggle while you rush back and forth between tables and something dawns on you.

“Favorite music genre?”

“Pop- hey, wait a minute,” Hoseok’s eyes widen as if startled while he puckers his lips, seeing the way your hands rest on your hips where you tap your fingers against your apron, a teasing glare pins him in place. “This game is rigged.”

“Oh?”

“How come I’m the only one answering all the questions?”

There’s always the annoying cues that tend to interrupt when you reach an interesting point in your job, and when you straighten your posture, you notice what looks to be a party of ten entering the building. Vague familiarity brushes over a few faces, potentially previous consumers, all wearing business attire, but when your gaze lands on one of the men, a jolt of pure terror begins to ram harshly against your rib cage. Hoseok notices the way your frame became rigid and with furrowed eyebrows, he turns enough to look behind him not hearing your footsteps shoot forward to seat the group. Clicking your purple pen, you shakingly jot down their drink orders after welcoming them, trying with all your might to swallow down the overwhelming sense of nausea.

“Well, how are you, dear?” Mr. Jeon, Jeongguk’s father, though with a kind smile, greets you. Clear glasses are poised on the bridge of his nose, and despite his bout of disapproval upon you being a waitress, there seems to be not one smidge of tension amongst him which you are taken aback by, and you force to hide your bewilderment with a polite expression.

“I’m doing very well, Mr. Jeon. How are you?” A blush heats over your chest from the stares looming at you from the rest of the table, and all you can wonder is what made Jeongguk’s father come to this particular restaurant? And, why today of all days? Why ever? You understandably can see it being a coworker who loves this restaurant offering this to be where they eat today but didn’t Mr. Jeon know that you worked here at this specific location or did he simply forget?

“I’m doing well,” he nods as if contemplating his answer, “How has the job been treating you?”

“Good, as always,” you nod, wishing nothing more than to melt into the floor. “I’ll be right back with your drinks,” swiftly bowing, Mr. Jeon awkwardly clears his throat.

“Of course, of course. I’ll let you get back to work,”

It doesn’t take long to get all the beverages ready, and once you take their food order, you clip it up for Seokjin and Von, ducking into the restroom where you can fill your lungs with a much needed deep breath. Fighting the urge to hyperventilate, your hands curl on either side of the sink, gripping so tight your knuckles whiten. Holy shit. The coppery taste of blood heightens your senses and you realize you have been gnawing on your lips much harder than usual. You can’t even raise your head enough to look in the mirror without the risk of vomiting, so instead, bending close enough, you turn on the spigot, to feel tiny flecks of water nicker your nose, rinsing your mouth with lukewarm water.

Persuading whatever you can to calm down, you try convincing yourself how you have met the man before, how he was practically your father-in-law at one point, yet the intense feeling of your heart pounding was still present. You are so shaken up my Mr. Jeon’s presence, you pace back and forth once you part from the sink, pleading with your stomach to not release the breakfast you had earlier. Thoughts of Hoseok seem to mingle, hoping M has been able to tend to him to make sure he doesn’t need anything else, and you find yourself amazed by just the mere thought of his smile bringing you at ease even if for a moment. He always seems so happy, and in a way, you envy him for it, although you know realistically speaking, no one in the universe has a perfect life no matter how you slice it, but at least some can find their happiness again which you long for desperately.

Scolding yourself, you are not sure how long you remain hidden within the bathroom, and when your belly decides to simmer down, you press your eyes close and whisper some form of encouragement before returning to the bustling floor of the restaurant. Realizing in slight chagrin, you notice Mr. Jeon and his company have been digging into their plates, and you thank your lucky stars for M because you know she is the culprit for making sure your job is still being maintained.

“Ah, there she is!” Mr. Jeon proclaims, swiping his napkin briefly over his mouth.

“I apologize for my absence, I can grab pitchers for some refills-” you start, observing some of the glasses being halfway consumed, but Mr. Jeon waves a hand to stop you.

“No need. Ms. Monica informed us that the delivery truck had arrived. I didn’t know you were the assistant manager now. I can’t believe my son hasn’t told me!”

M saves the day yet again, and before you can breathe a sigh of relief, your breath hitches instead, “Hasn’t?” What does Mr. Jeon mean by the present tense? Maybe Jeongguk… never felt the need of informing his parents since they originally disproved of your waitressing to begin with. Trying to prevent the urge to scrunch your eyebrows, you try to keep a nonchalant demeanor as you continue speaking after realizing Mr. Jeon hadn’t reiterated, “Why, yes! Yes, I am now the assistant manager. I was promoted around the same time your son was.” Flinching, you still have a hard time saying his name aloud, and you hope to the heavens that Mr. Jeon didn’t notice as you fondle with the hem of your apron, your fingertips evidently numb.

Elbowing one of his coworkers he chuckles, “She’s got him wrapped around her finger. It’s been that way for years. I can’t even get the couple to visit us anymore,”

“Mr. Jeon,” you try to say at the daunting discovery you have unraveled, but your words die on your tongue.

“Say, how is Jeonnguk doing?” Lightheaded, you hardly hear the question, much less the feel of a tender hand being placed upon your shoulder.

“He’s good!” M’s voice snaps you back to reality as you dizzily reach over to refill a drink from the pitcher M had set on the table.

“Yeah,” you reply in clear discomfort, “He’s doing wonderfully I suppose.”

When the men are finished with their meals, you and M collect the dishes and silverware before bringing their checks to collect payments; Mr. Jeon nods his goodbye when the group gathers to exit the restaurant. Appearing into the kitchen, the chefs are too busy cooking to notice, and M follows suit, “[Y/N], if you need a minute-” M’s voice is thick with worry especially when she notices your eyes pooling with unshed tears.

“He doesn’t know,” your voice cracks, “Mr. Jeon doesn’t know that we broke up,”

M’s expression is incredulous after the confusion dissipates from her eyes, but she squeezes your hand to provide whatever strength she can give. Jeongguk’s father is unaware of the breakup, and here you are made a fool because of it, or that is how you see it.

“Maybe something bad has happened to him?”

“No,” you sigh, not wanting to relive the memory, “he left a note that said ‘I’m sorry,’ written on it. That’s how I know that he did this willingly,”

Silence drifts between you and your best friend for a few minutes before she pulls you into a crushing hug. Relief to have such a wonderful support system, you return the hug only letting a few more tears fall to retain your composure.

“I’m telling you he’s running because he’s ashamed of something, hence why he never said anything to his family,” M reminds you of the advice she gave what feels like a lifetime ago, “He will realize what he lost in due time, but for now, just focus on you. Maybe there are some things individually he needs to work on himself... Though that doesn’t change the fact that he should have communicated, but see this as an opportunity to find yourself, too.”

“You’re right,” you pull away, inhaling a slow breath before letting it out, “Maybe I just need to switch up my point of view,” even though you long for closure that may never come, but at least you can try to recover without knowing the full story. Maybe it is possible. “Thank you,” you whisper swiping under your eyes one more time, until you remember a certain, handsome customer you were originally serving. You gasp with enlarged eyes, “Hoseok!” Completely forgetting to check on him, you want to kick yourself for losing focus on your job despite the circumstances, and when you sprint out of the kitchen, your shoulders fall when seeing that his seat is no longer holding him. The empty mug rests on top of the plate that has leftover chocolate drizzle dolloped sporadically from where the pancakes were devoured; stepping to collect the dishes, something else encapsulates your sight.

Laying on the countertop sits what shows to be another twenty-dollar bill which once again stuns you from how cheap Hoseok’s breakfast is, but what rests beside the tip is what moves you to tears as a tiny gasp muffles into your palm. A circle of four yellow dandelions emerge in your line of vision, the fragrance of them greeting your nose. Once you’re close enough to fully absorb what you’re seeing- there laying in the center, encompassed by the golden petals,

is a white sphere of dandelion seeds still supported by its faded, green stem.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed when the following morning Hoseok never arrived for his routine breakfast, especially since you have the day off tomorrow. With your heart anticipating to thank him for the gift he left for you, you try to busy your mind with your job, so that the overwhelming thoughts of the regular didn’t occupy every crevice of your brain. But of course, it doesn’t one hundred percent work because the constant questions spin through, what if he went out of town? How long will he be gone? What if something bad happened? Maybe he had to work extra early even though you haven’t the slightest idea where he works. What if he is visiting a friend? Family? …Girlfriend?

Shaking your head from the foolish inquiries, you wrestle with the anxiety until lunchbreak, grabbing your packed sandwich from the fridge and sauntering to the picnic bench outside. Once again, not any customers were occupying them, and with the sun being high in the cloudless sky, you are thankful for the weather providing a cooling breeze. Halfway into your sandwich, your attention is so consumed by the article you are reading on your phone, the sudden slap of an item hitting the wood of the table causes you to jump before you realize what it is.

Uno. An Uno box is staring back at your wide eyes as you swallow whatever food you hardly chewed. Trailing to see who brought the card game, your heart flutters when you meet the smiling eyes of Jung Hoseok.

“My goodness you scared me!” You release a string of giggles in response to the adrenaline dimming and partially because you are happy to see him, a lot more than you expected.

“I’m sorry about that, it was kind of my intention, but not really,” he teases, descending across from you, his cap sitting perfectly upon his head to where his curls still decorate his forehead. You want to bring up the dandelion seeds and mention how much they mean to you even though you are not sure where to begin. Even combing through your memory, you can’t think of a time someone left you something so thoughtful.

“I’ll get you back,” you grin playfully, reaching for the box of cards with vengeance in tow, “I am quite the extraordinaire at Uno,”

“Ah, your confidence is astounding,” his smile widens, “But, I think you have met your match.”

“Bring it on,”

A few games pass with competitiveness you never knew you had, and it draws mild attention from customers about to enter the restaurant, but you could care less. When deciding on the final game, you discard.

“You forgot something,” Hoseok’s mischievous smirk sparking a dimple, flitting your gaze back to him, your mouth forms an ‘Oh’ in confusion,

“Uno.”

“Oh shit!” You slap a palm to your forehead, listening to your component cackle as he hands you four cards from the pile. The game prior, you each had one card left, and when you for sure thought you had him cornered, he placed a draw four WILD card onto the pile. “I give up,” you lean back with a deflated ego, and a lopsided grin, “You win. Again.”

“I’ll go easy on you next time,” he winks, a small flutter awakens within your chest, but you attempt to disperse the gnawing feelings that you can’t explain. Reaching for the cards- to stack neatly to return to its box- Hoseok’s fingers brush yours with the same intention. Awkwardly, you pull away, letting him pile the cards where they belonged, the feel of his fingertips still lingering on yours, a subtle blush creeps onto your cheeks. To distract yourself, you check your phone for the time, your heart falling in disappointment when you only have seven minutes left. Though you will not admit it to yourself, you aren’t disappointed in the fact you have to return to work, you are disappointed that your time with Hoseok has to end for the day.

“Thank you by the way,” you murmur softly, yet loud enough for him to hear. Hoseok looks up at you after stuffing the cards in the box as if confused on what you mean. “Honestly, thank you for everything. The questions, bringing the card game… And the dandelion seeds.” You smile timidly, “I don’t think you realize how much it’s helped distract me.”

Nodding, he doesn’t break eye contact, his smile so kind you can hardly ignore the flickers within you increasing, “Anytime. I can tell you’ve seemed down lately, and I know what that’s like, so I figured, why not find ways to help.”

The way your heart moves at his words, you are so touched that phrases dissipate from your tongue and in replacement, Hoseok is met with a look of awe dawning your expression. How can someone be so incredibly kind? You have known him for two years yet he has done more for you in such a short span of time that you realize you have gradually been gaining your smile back, especially when around him. When the two of you stand, you round the table in the direction of the restaurant and your shoulder happens to brush his arm.

“For you, Ma’am,” Hoseok stops, turning to face you fully to perform a courteous bow as he gestures the card game toward you.

“Oh, Hoseok, no you don’t have to do that!” Out of shock, your hands cup his that are still holding what happens to be another gift for you, the warmth of his skin prompting the reddened hues of your cheeks.

“I insist,”

“Hoseok, you really don’t have to,” but you lose the battle for as you head back into the restaurant, a giddy smile remains on your face as you tuck the box of cards safely into your purse.

Even as time passes into a few weeks, you find a day off leads into sleeping in until eleven in the morning which also results in you cleaning the entire apartment until it is spotless. Despite the ongoing guilt exhausting you inwardly, you store nearly everything of Jeongguk’s in a spare closet where it will stay away from your line of vision until you have the guts to rid of everything that you know he will never come back for. Lemony scents envelop each room, and you carry the final, hefty trash bag to the dumpster exasperated from the constant moving. Although, accomplishment is a wonderful feeling especially when you nibble on some lunch, soon turning to fall back onto your made bed. Closing your eyes for a split second, a sigh of relief brushes your grinning lips, your arms sprawled out on either side of you; when your phone vibrates on your dresser, the loud noise against the wood scares you at first as you jump suddenly with enlarged eyes, sporadically reaching for your cellphone where the familiar initial of your best friend appears.

“What did you do,” you tease.

M scoffs, “Bold of you to assume that I’m the culprit! Alas, I am sitting here alone on my lunch break, and thought I’d call to check up on you. Everything okay?”

“My apartment smells like lemons,” you reply with a wide smile.

“Oh! It was that bad?”

“Yeah,” you laugh, remembering that you need to put the vacuum you used earlier back into the laundry closet.

“No wonder why you haven’t invited me over. Now, I’m not as offended,” M jokes, munching on what you assume is a chip.

“You can come over tonight if you’d like,”

M sighs, “I would, but Yoongi is wanting to introduce me to his BFFLs’ that he’s made thus far.”

“From college I presume?” You wonder, imagining all the insults M is probably practicing just in case if she needs them.

“Yes, I think they’re majoring in the same thing, but I don’t remember.” M munches on another chip, “If they’re cute, do you want me to hit you up? You know, get them to slide in them DMs.”

“Do you even know their names?”

“Of course, I do!” M gasps, “Taejoon and Namyung.”

When the two of you manage to calm your laughter, M then shares some words of encouragement, the two of you finishing the call once the end of her lunch break nears. Roaming around the apartment, you take in the clean atmosphere, breathing in the lemon scent, and letting the sunlight shine through the windows along the furniture, bringing a subtle warmth to the air. Peace. Returning to your room, you hook your phone to the charger, your eyes pan over the dresser until they land on the dandelions you were given a few weeks ago. A small smile forms on your lips. The petals have completely dried although the scent persists; the sphere that holds numerous wishes disguised as seeds remains resting above them though the stem is shriveled.

Hoseok has asked you several questions, learning new things about you every day. Even when you try to learn at least one thing about him, something always interrupts, or he avoids answering and distracts you with another question that piques your interest. Ever since he witnessed your breakdown with the plates, it’s like he hasn’t let a day go by where he’s not finding a new way to make you smile. To make sure you’re okay. Your eyes still trained on the dandelion pile; a sudden urge awakens within you. Reaching for the withered stem, you rush out of the apartment, trampling down the steps until your bare feet find the large area of grass behind the complex. With the sun still beaming, the heat encompassing your skin, you bring the cloud of seeds to your lips, closing your eyes before making the wish that is dying to be whisked away in the breeze.

You make your wish- gently blowing at the loosening seeds- one by one they are captured by the wind, and with hopeful eyes and a promising smile, you watch until the seeds disappear into the unknown.

For the first time in a long time,

you are actually excited for the days ahead.

Hoseok fidgets with the gold watch as he tries to attach it onto his left wrist. It’s been years since he’s seen the watch, but his sister came to town from college weeks ago, surprising him with it. Taking a brief look in the mirror, Hoseok then heads to his car, his gurgling stomach waiting for the pancakes- a routine he has done for so long he’s forgotten how many years it's really been. Once arriving, his eyes trail the restaurant for you, his pending gift he has waiting at home isn’t finished quite yet, so when he discovers that you happen to be off today, he settles in the same stool, M bellowing his order to the cooks in the back.

M retrieves Hoseok’s coffee, him taking a sip, letting the heat of the liquid warm his figure; he gazes at the pictures on the wall. One frame, particularly, he searches for and once his eyes land upon it, it brings a sense of reminiscence from his childhood. In the picture, it has Hoseok as a young boy, his smile is so wide that his eyes disappear, his cheeks rosy, and his hair was much darker; a strong arm is over his shoulders revealing his grandpa with an equally large smile. In front of them, sits two plates with heaping layers of pancakes- chocolate syrup drizzling along the cakes with whipped cream swirled on top. Off to the side sits a coffee mug, something his grandpa couldn’t live without. A cup of coffee every single morning to start off his day. Adorning his grandpa’s left wrist is the golden watch, the one Hoseok finally found the strength to wear this morning. Hoseok’s grandpa brought him to this restaurant for breakfast every single time he came to visit him; some of the fondest memories Hoseok will hold in his heart forever.

Hoseok’s grandfather meant everything to him; always telling him stories, encouraging Hoseok to be the best man that he can be, sharing words of wisdom, and cheering him on with every obstacle thrown into his path. The day that his grandfather was diagnosed with cancer was the day that changed Hoseok’s life. Hoseok was applying to colleges during the time; his dream of becoming a dance teacher one day nearly dissipated until his grandfather refused to let Hoseok give everything up for the sake of his life. Though stubborn, Hoseok continued seeking out colleges while the looming process of watching his grandpa, who was once full of life, slowly withering away before his eyes.

Hoseok’s heart nearly tore into millions of shattered pieces, but there was never a night that he didn’t visit his grandpa in the hospital, sharing memories until his grandpa would drift to sleep. The night his grandfather passed, he gripped Hoseok’s hand with tears brimming his eyes.

“I am so proud of you, son,” his chin quivered, Hoseok’s face falling into a pained expression as every suppressed emotion nearly drowned him. Hoseok held onto him- sobs escaping him until his grandfather’s last breath. The family remained in the room behind him, knowing how much of an impact Hoseok’s grandfather had left on him.

It took a few years before Hoseok ever stepped foot into this restaurant again. Refused to even drive by it when visiting his parents- taking back roads to avoid any pain he tried healing from. When he first moved back into this town, after attending college nearly seven hours away, he finally found a form of strength to visit the restaurant that held the most memories. There was just one thing that he never expected.

Walking into the restaurant fresh out of college, Hoseok remembers hands in the pockets of his jacket, the smell of breakfast foods enveloping his nostrils, as the joyous conversations of people flooded his ears. When his eyes found the picture of his grandpa, he swallowed the lump in his throat, almost turning to leave, when:

“Welcome!” His eyes landed on a pair of glimmering eyes, vanishing all ounce of pain that was building within his chest. “You can sit anywhere you’d like!”

His lips parted at first, but one thing he knew, was he couldn’t take his eyes off the smiling waitress as he forced himself to walk- finding a stool at the counter.

“What can I get you today?” She beamed, pulling out a pad of paper, clicking the end of a purple pen in preparation to take his order.

“Uh,” Hoseok lost his train of thought for a moment, but the waitress waited patiently, as he scrambled to decide. Quickly, he glanced up at the picture of him and his grandpa, returning his eyes to the waitress, “I’ll have some coffee, and pancakes with chocolate syrup, please,” he smiled.

“Perfect. Coming right up!”

Hoseok watched as the waitress disappeared into the kitchen, her ponytail bouncing behind her- completely entranced by her beauty glowing from within. Even when she served him the pancakes, he thanked her, her smile never left the whole entire time he was there. As he occasionally glanced in her direction, her smile never left even for the customers occupying the rest of the spaces in the restaurant. In a way, he envied her smile, wishing he could give some light to the people surrounding him.

He came every day after that. Ordering the pancakes and coffee to start his day off before going to teach his dance classes at a high school not far down the road. One day, whenever the waitress came to check on him, he was halfway finished with his plate, “So, how is work for you today?” The question left his mouth before he could even stop himself. “Anything new?” The waitress leaned onto the counter,

“Good so far! We have a trainee coming in today for a working interview,” she said with excitement. “We’ve been needing more help around here as you know. But that’s not even the best part.”

“Oh?” Hoseok’s hands folded in front of his chin, interest in his expression.

The waitress looks ahead, her smile remaining planted on her face, “She has purple hair. I’m telling you right now her and I are going to be the best of friends.”

Hoseok couldn’t help, but chuckle at her statement, “Is that-?”

“My favorite color? Most definitely.” She glowed, soon scurrying off to check on the rest of her section.

The memory fades as M settles Hoseok’s order in front of him. “Thank you,” he says, digging into the layers. If there is one thing that Hoseok hadn’t expected when he returned to this restaurant for the first time in years,

It was that he would ever meet a ray of sunshine like you.

As two weeks pass, Monday decides to take its turn- you roll out of bed, readying for the day, getting to work early to prepare for the food truck’s arrival. Chef Seokjin typically comes to help- carrying the heavier boxes you may not be able to handle all by yourself. Once everything is stocked, the remaining workers begin to file in, clocking in for their shifts and double checking the floor to make sure everything is crystal clean.

“How are you, [Y/N]?” Jimin asks, his sweet smile reaching his eyes as he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“I’m doing well, Chimmy Chim. How are you this fine morning?” You hug him tight, his thin waist nearly swallowed by your embrace. Jimin is like the younger brother you’ve never had since you are an only child, he seemed to fill in that space for you whenever he first started working here. Every now and then, he comes to ask for advice on how to win LenLen’s heart, one of the fellow waitresses who also greets you with a hug every Monday morning when she arrives for her shift.

“I’m doing well. Guess what? Your advice worked.” He shimmers, his fluffy, blonde hair curled along his forehead.

“Did you plan everything out?”

“Yes, I did,” he promises. “Even down to the dessert. I’ll update you on everything after the date.”

“Okay, good. Because she’s standing right behind you,” Jimin’s eyes expand into saucers as he jumps to look behind him.

“You’re rude,” he chortles, playfully nudging you to realize LenLen hasn’t arrived just yet.

“I know, but I’m the best manager in the world. You can tell my relative I said so,” you wink. As soon as opening hour comes around, hordes of elderly couples and middle-aged people flood the booths and tables, sending every worker into a whirlwind of action. Whenever it slows down a bit, M meets you behind the counter, “So, I may have lied about something,” M begins, sucking her lips in as you turn to face her.

“Oh my, where do I need to meet you to dispose of the body,”

M rolls her eyes, “Oh, shut up, I haven’t killed him.”

“Yet,” you emphasize, leaning onto the counter.

“Okay, well I almost did, but that’s not the point. You see, what happened was- Remember Yoongi’s BFFLs’ I told you about?”

“Vaguely. What about them?”

“Well, those dipwads thought it was a good idea to not correct me on their names. And Yoongi was in on it.”

“No, they didn’t,” you chuckle, your friend’s embarrassment resonating in her features. “When did they decide to break it to you?”

“Last night, when they laughed so hard, they nearly urinated.”

“Remind me of their names again?”

M ponders for a moment, “Taejo- Sorry, Taehyung and Namjoon.”

“That’s not too far off though. Is it?”

“According to them, it is,” M shrugs, “But it’s okay I’ve renamed them to something much better.” M takes a hairbow and pulls her hair into a ponytail, your ‘humor me’ look waiting as she meets your gaze.

“What are their new names?” You blurt when the anticipation starts to overwhelm you.

“Tool and Nutbread,” M says nonchalantly, looking up to see three guys waltz in, “Speak of the damn devil.”

When you turn to look, you recognize Yoongi immediately, his silver hair curly as his eyes scan around the room until they lock with M’s, a gummy smile spreads across his face. Beside him stands two, very tall fellows, one wearing a black beret, flecks of green hair poking out near his ears; the other male, a slight bit taller, his dark hair parted on top of his head. You follow M until you reach the group, Yoongi offering his hand to shake yours first.

“Yoongi, this is my best friend, [Y/N].” M introduces, Yoongi bowing slightly.

“I’ve heard a lot of good things. Nice to meet you,”

“Same to you,” you say now turning to face the other two gentlemen.

“[Y/N],” M now gestures to the one with the beret. “This right here is Tool. And, this big shot right here is, Nutbread.”

You try to stifle the cackles wanting to erupt from your throat, but you hold a wide smile as you shake each of their hands, chagrin manifesting in their expressions.

“M is never going to let us live this down, is she?” Nutbread, who you assume is Namjoon, says, his face scrunching in a cutesy smile revealing dimples on his cheeks.

“Not at all,” you admit, as you and M seat them.

“It’s okay, we’ll get her back. I happen to be a prankster on the side.” Tool, who you assume is Taehyung, says pointing a finger at M with a boxy smile.

“If that were the case, then how’d you end up with super glue in your shampoo,” M shoots back. Taehyung awkwardly runs a large hand over his hat.

“That hat’s not coming off. Is it,” you muse.

“Maybe,” he pouts.

“That’s what happens when you mess with Monnie,” Namjoon banters.

“You’re next, Nutbread.” M utters, Namjoon’s eyes widening simultaneously to the whole table erupting in boisterous laughter. Monnie… you realize, there’s only one other person who calls M, Monnie. When the ding of the doorbell sounds as it does nonstop throughout the day, you turn to see Hoseok, your breath hitching. Normally, he heads straight for his typical spot at the counter, but this time he takes a seat at a booth, his countenance grim as his eyes examine the wall holding several picture frames. You have always noticed his sweep of the walls, but you never can figure what it is he is looking for. Before you greet him, you prepare a coffee, walking to his table to set it in front of him.

“Different view today?” You ask, his brown eyes meeting yours. You take in his facial features, the shape of his eyes, how smooth his skin appears, the pink of his lips, as well as the perfect line of his jaw. He’s so handsome you nearly want to faint. Hoseok smiles at you, his loose, brown shirt complimenting a ripped pair of black jeans, and you notice on his left wrist, he’s wearing a different watch this time. “Oh wow, I really like your watch.” You compliment, the golden hues of it glistening in the sunlight protruding through the window.

“Thank you,” his smile widens even more as if it’s possible, “It was a gift.”

“Well, it’s very nice. I’ll be right back with your pancakes,” you say, waltzing into the kitchen to alert the chefs of Hoseok’s arrival. Checking on other tables, you head back to the kitchen to retrieve Hoseok’s order. Once returned to the floor, there is a hesitant halt in your step for you notice a young woman sitting across from Hoseok at his booth. Something about her is familiar. If you remember correctly, she has been here a few times before- she never orders anything when she does come, and she’s always extremely polite to every employee who happens to wait their table, but who is she? Jealousy is a funny thing, yet you suppress the subtle feeling down, trying to talk yourself into how silly you are for even worrying.

“Hello!” You greet, setting Hoseok’s pancakes onto the table. “Can I get you anything to drink?” You offer.

“Oh, no thank you! I don’t need anything,” she smiles up at you, noticing the way her tight-lipped grin and her brown eyes appear conversant to you.

“[Y/N], this is my sister, Ji Wo.” Hoseok introduces, his hand gesturing toward her, and all you can do is stifle the tremendous sigh of relief at receiving this news. Yet, you are still confused as to why you were even worried to begin with. Is it possible that… You may have feelings on the man seated before you? Is that even a prospect?

“Oh wow, I see the resemblance! It’s so nice to meet you!” You smile, her saying the same, you turning to leave the two alone since you’re uncertain how often the two get to see each other. Rounding the counter to refill some drinks, M comes up to you.

“How’s Hoseok’s sister doing?” M asks, glancing over at the booth. You look at M with furrowed eyebrows.

“How’d you know that’s his sister?”

M tilts her head, “How did you not know that’s his sister? She only comes once in a blue moon. I’ve asked Yoongi about her, but he doesn’t know much. Hoseok’s not much of a talker like he used to be.”

“Wait,” you wave a hand in the air as if to pause time, “Yoongi and Hoseok know each other?”

M stares at you blankly, “What do you mean Yoongi and Hoseok know each other? They’re roommates you, dork!”

“Oh,” you gasp when you remember M telling you about Yoongi moving in with a roommate who M also mentioned was his childhood best friend; back when she made you visit her on the night you attempted to call him for the first time after the breakup. “I didn’t know his childhood best friend was Hoseok. And, no wonder why.. I noticed Namjoon called you Monnie, which is what I’ve heard Hoseok call you before.”

“Oh yeah, Yoongi calls me Monnie, so that’s my name at my house. But anyways,” M gains her train of thought, “after Yoongi moved away they lost touch, the most they communicated was over video game headsets.”

Snickering, you shake your head, even though you feel like there’s more about Hoseok than what he’s letting on. Gazing at him, his smile still on his face as he conversates with his sister, a strange longing tugs at your heart, and it happens to be so obvious your best friend can’t help but flash a hopeful yet knowing smirk.

“You know he’s single, right?” M’s voice disperses your trance, and you whip your head around to stare at her. M raises her hands immediately in defense, “I’m just saying.” She then heads back to the floor to check on her tables, you do the same. The hour whisking by in the blink of an eye, you find yourself cleaning tables, looking over your shoulder to see the empty booth Hoseok and his sister had originally occupied. Diverting your attention, you take empty dishes to the kitchen sink trying to ignore the ache of wanting to be around Hoseok which you’ve been gradually growing used to. When you head to the main counter, you bend down to wipe at the cubbies, ridding of dust that has collected along items related to pens, paper, boxes of straws, and other pocket items waiters and waitresses can swiftly grab when able to.

The clink of something pangs the counter causing you to stand upright. To your surprise, Hoseok plants himself into the stool, his smile showing his dimples as curly strands of hair fall into his eyes.

“Welcome back,” you say, closing your mouth that happened to be ajar, “You want more pancakes? Already?” You tease, the nervous tension easing from your shoulders. Your eyes then land to what caused the clinking sound seconds ago, a mason jar holding thick, yet neatly cut folded pieces of paper are piled within it. “What’s this?” You point, your eyes meeting Hoseok’s.

“It’s a jar full of questions,” he replies, sliding the mason jar toward you. A purple string is beneath the lid and you catch a strand between your fingertips. You’re speechless. Never in your wildest dreams would you have ever imagined being gifted something so sweet. Even with… “You can draw a question or more a day if you’d like.”

“And what do I get in return?” you press, “I believe I deserve answers about what your favorite things are, correct?”

Hoseok looks at his folded hands before returning his eyes to search yours, “You do.”

“So, how about with every question I draw, we both answer,” you challenge. “I’m tired of only knowing that your favorite number is seven,”

“Okay,” he agrees, “Deal.”

With a victorious smile, you lift the lid of the mason jar, thankful not many customers are in your section for the moment. “Wait,” you pause when the sudden thought hits you, “Aren’t you going to get tired of this? Asking me so many questions?” You can’t help the curiosity, especially when you were so used to running out of things to talk about before.

“Not at all. There are always questions to ask. Even if it’s the same one every day, there’s always a ‘how are you?’ or ‘how was work today’ or even ‘did you have fun with your family today?’ I know some people don’t see it that way, but-”

“I do,” you murmur. There is always a conversation. Which is something you never realized you yearned for until now. When you hold his eyes a moment too long, you clear your throat, regaining your attention to the mason jar, carefully unfolding the first piece of paper you draw, reading the question aloud, “Who is the most inspiring person in your life?” Setting the piece of paper to the side, you take a minute to think about it, not knowing M is behind you pointing at herself- Hoseok stifling a laugh as M then turns to disappear into the kitchen. “I’d have to say, my mom.” You reply, M walking out of the kitchen just in time to hear your answer- slumping her shoulders which Hoseok catches in his peripheral vision. Oblivious to the whole situation, you just continue talking, “My mom always told me I could conquer anything if I put my mind to it.” Still looking up at the ceiling in concentration, you reiterate, “I’d have to say M, too.” M fist pumps in the air as she passes behind you once again, Hoseok completely entertained by the whole scene, finding your cluelessness about your best friend’s shenanigans cute. “She has saved me on many occasions. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” You now turn to Hoseok, “Your turn.” You demand. You watch as Hoseok joggles at the watch you complimented earlier, a sadness clouding his eyes.

“My grandfather,” he says, leaning forward, his hands so close they nearly touch yours. You wait as Hoseok swallows, gathering his words before speaking, “He used to bring me here when I was younger.” His tired smile barely reaches his eyes, “We would always get-”

“Pancakes with chocolate syrup,” you say in shock, the realization dawning on you, “That’s why-”

“Every day,” Hoseok nods, “He was my best friend. The picture of us on the wall here, it gives me strength every time I see it.”

“Hoseok, I’m so sorry,” you whisper, fighting the gesture to hold him in your arms, but you refrain from moving.

“It’s okay,” Hoseok promises, his eyes never leaving yours, “My sister gave me his watch, and coming here every day I get to remember him,” Hoseok pauses, his features suddenly becoming timid, “And every day I get to see you.”

Your heart immediately leaps at his words, and before you can respond, a group of women walk in and take a seat at a nearby table. “I’m sorry, Hoseok, hold on,” you whisper, irritation rising in you, but you repress it. Once you give the ladies their drink orders, you walk back to the counter, seeing Hoseok holding another question in his hands.

“Where is a place you have always wanted to travel to?” He reads and you can’t help but pause at the question- it catches you off guard, bringing a face you don’t want to think about to your mind.

“Ireland,” you murmur, your gaze falling to your twiddling hands, “Me and J-” You stop yourself, wincing at your almost mistake, “I’ve always wanted to go there since I was zero it feels like.”

“Why haven’t you?” Hoseok wonders, but, once again, before you can answer, another ding alerts you when an elderly man comes to sit at the counter. You quickly set the mason jar within a cubby behind the counter. “I better go. More questions tomorrow?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Hoseok smiles, and you rush to ask what drink the customer would like, your heart slightly falling when you feel Hoseok’s presence exit the restaurant.

Time ticks away to reveal how much emptier the mason jar has become, and the more questions you answer, the more you are finally learning about Jung Hoseok. It is like you have forgotten what a broken heart feels like, and though you will never admit it internally, Hoseok has threaded every piece back together in ways that you can’t reiterate. He happens to be a dance teacher at one of the local high schools which springs the explanation of why it’s ‘practically’ his job that he sees the same faces almost every day; he went to an University seven hours away to obtain his degree, and he has had a passion for dancing his entire life and is thankful to have a job where he can teach his dream. He happens to be addicted to Sprite and has a stuffed animal that is a horse named Mang gifted to him as a child by his Grandfather. Your favorite is knowing he has a dog named Mickey and that he loves his hair being messed with when he is trying to sleep which you ridiculously find enticing, but never plan to tell him.

Laughter has been the main contributor between the two of you- sharing your most embarrassing stories, cracking jokes whenever the restaurant calms, and as the days continue to pass, your excitement to come to work every day has never been so motivating, and for the first time in a long time, you’ve been going to bed with a smile on your face.

When the final folded piece of paper is staring back at you in the mason jar, you note the relief in Hoseok’s eyes as you reach in carefully, grasping the paper between your fingertips. Dramatically, you slowly unfold it, Hoseok tapping his fingertips on the counter nervously.

“You okay?” You tease.

“Never been better,” He tilts his head, his bucket hat shading his restless eyes.

When you finally open the final question, your eyes scan it as a gasp escapes your lips- the pace of your heart quickens as you swallow anxiously, joy rising within you, “Will-” You read, “Will you go on a date with me?”

When your gaze meets Hoseok’s, his contagious smile spreads across his face, his eyes shaping into crescents, “Well, I thought you’d never ask.”

A myriad of dates leads into relishing in new memories you have developed with none other than the source of your smile- Jung Hoseok. Twirling in a daze around your apartment, Hoseok makes it to you, helping you out of your jacket and turning to hang it on the coat rack sitting next to the front door.

“Do you really have to go?” You say softly, dreading the thought of him leaving for the night.

“I know, but we both have work in the morning, and we need sleep,” he reminds you, holding his arms out to invite you in. Hoseok walks you to your apartment after every date, enveloping you in a long, warm embrace before heading home. Without an ounce of hesitation, you cuddle into his chest, his cologne caressing your nose as his arms tighten around your back. His chin rests on the top of your head and the two of you rock from side to side, so delicate, and so full of serenity.

“Maybe- Maybe I don’t want to. Slee-” The words disappear on your lips once you break away just enough to gaze up at him, his proximity so inviting, his lips parting the moment your eyes flicker toward them, the desire to cling to him and let out all your emotions for him with what you’re longing for encases your mind. You swallow as your breathing increases, nerves swallowing every part of you, and Hoseok’s eyes bore into yours, reading every inch of your soul. You’re not sure what to do as panic fills you, especially when Hoseok leans closer, reading your mind more than you’d like to profess. When his nose brushes yours, you close your eyes, a sudden flash of Jeongguk’s face triggers you, and you drop your head in astonishment. “Hoseok,” you choke, “I’m sorry, I- I’m sorry, I- I can’t- I’m not-” You can’t even talk, stammering as you run a shaky hand through your hair.

“No, no, [Y/N]. You’re fine,” Hoseok settles his hands on your forearms to calm you, “I promise.” His words are so soft, you’re shocked you heard him, “I’m going to head out. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” And with that, he gently squeezes your arms, his eyes trying to hide the sadness behind them, he then turns to walk to the door, the clicking sound of it shutting causes you to slam your eyes shut, burying your face in your hands.

“Shit,” you whisper. Regret amalgamating every fiber of your being, your muffled breaths warming your cold hands as you try to numb the pain deep in your chest. What the hell is wrong with you!? Bringing the back of your hand to your mouth, your chin quivers. You want him. You’ve been wanting him for a long time. What the hell is wrong with you!? You fucking lov-

And with that, something ignites within you. You are in love with him, Jung Hoseok, and nothing is going to tear that or him away from you. You are ready. Determination running through your veins so rapidly that you gain your composure. “Hoseok,” you whisper. “Hoseok, Hoseok wait!” You shout, throwing open the door as you stomp down the stairs faster than you thought you were capable of. “Hoseok!” You say, your eyes frantically searching for him along the darkened parking lot, “Hoseok, wait!” When your eyes find him, he pauses, turning to face you with concerned eyes and parted lips, “Hoseok!” You say as you race to him, your heart flying beneath you as tears stream down your face.

“[Y/N]? Are you-” He begins, but you don’t give him a chance. Grabbing the front of his jacket with both of your hands, you yank him to your level, crashing your lips to his, clutching onto him for dear life. It takes him a second to register what is now happening, but his kiss eases, his hands finding your cheeks as he moves his lips so effortlessly with yours. Your hands find the back of his head, stroking his hair as every ounce of love pours out of you- every memory churning- every moment Hoseok has looked at you with his beautiful smile- every jig he’s tried to dance on dates- the way his warm hands feel within yours- the way he says your name- the way he steals your heart every chance he gets- there are no words. Not one word to describe the infinity of love you have for this man capturing your soul right now. Your heart has never burst with so much elation, happiness swarming the two of you that it’s as if fireworks are igniting in the sky, exploding into numerous colors, covering the world with their soaring flecks of flame.

His kiss so passionate, you become lightheaded, the two of you pulling away just enough to stare into each other’s eyes- breathless, but you don’t care. You cup his face, with a wide smile, you whisper,

“Stay.”

There isn’t the slightest hesitation, the pair of you hardly make it up the steps, not able to veer away from the continuous kisses, not one thought of fear in someone walking outside to see the two of you lip locked in desperation as if the night is going to end too soon. His palms keep their hold upon your face, bruising your lips however long you allow him. You are not even certain how you both accomplished making it to your bedroom, but the way breaths mingle, you are ecstatic to know that Hoseok will not be going home tonight after all.

Thrusting him onto the bed, you hover above him, soaking in the sight of his messy hair and heaving chest, covering his mouth with yours once more before raking your fingers through his frizzy curls, mesmerized by the sensation of his hands sliding along your back so carefully, the thought of you developing his senses as you always have, his heart pounding in unison with yours because the happiness you bring him is showing in his every kiss, every smile, every word, every touch. He is so gentle in how he keeps your body molded to him, and the painstaking longing you feel as it grows immensely, you crave the feel of his skin.

Pulling him to sit up, you throw a leg over him into the classic straddle planting a slow kiss before yanking off his shirt, he is so dazed by your beauty, and the way you keep him so close, his eyes never leaving your nervous face as your fingertips grace along the buttons of your shirt. His breath hitches at the sight of your bra, cupping your breasts perfectly, his mouth watering with the desire to kiss the tops of them but he remains respectful. When your shirt sends a soft plop to the ground, you gradually move your hands to unclip the garment, revealing your chest in all entirely as his fingers grip at the comforter. Tilting your head seductively, you nod in permission, the tips of his fingers reaching to trace skillfully in feathery tickles, arousing you to the point you feel a warm gush within your core.

But Hoseok takes you by surprise. Placing a tepid kiss on your lips, he then kisses each corner of your mouth, hands never leaving above your bosoms, he then kisses your cheeks, so sweetly, you’re almost in awe of his reaction; he then kisses your nose, your temples, either of your closed eyelids, your forehead, to then returning another soft kiss to your tingling lips. It is as if he wants to prove that he cares more for you than just what you two are longing to finish as the night drives on, and just when you gasp into his kiss, his fingers find your nipples, the sensitive touch making the desire grow even stronger than before, your heat clenching in a need for him, and you desist from begging for him. Moaning, your tongue circles his- his kisses are so addicting you hardly can think straight. Gliding two fingers along his chest, you fumble trying to unbutton his pants and not long after he shimmies from them, you follow suit, curling your bare legs around his torso as the pair of you hold each other tightly, enthralled in the way his heated skin feels on yours, entangled frames still sharing passionate kisses, not wanting anything to end.

Enlightened by the way he spins you to cautiously laying you onto your back, his lips suck along your chest, your abdomen- kisses planted all across your skin, his frame scooting farther backwards before you feel the fresh air sweeping your vulva, his hands grabbing your thighs causing a high pitched whimper to escape your tensed frame. It has been so long since you have felt a sensation as this, and as Hoseok’s panting breaths sweep your vulva, so then follows opened mouth kisses tickling along the quivering skin enhancing the anticipation to an ultimate high as you hold your breath wishing he would dive in.

And when he does, the moans release, his tongue slowly flattening along your core before moving up and down so lovingly, you could finish now with how much he is arousing you. He picks up the pace after a minute, sloshing his tongue over and over, taking in the taste of you, not wanting to miss a drop as you whimper at the growing sense. Stopping him, you take the time to pleasure him, performing what you hope satisfies though just being with you in general is enough for Hoseok. He never dreamed that he would have a chance with you though he wished for it, and here you are, kissing him back, asking him to stay, professing your feelings even if it’s through intimacy.

Finding himself above you, bodies pressing together in the dead of night, time is no longer a concern. Nodding toward him swiftly after getting lost in his eyes, he places a devoted kiss before he brings his hand to his being, placing it at your entrance before slowly thrusting in. He moves in you, your legs tighten behind him as he smothers your mouth with more kisses, with each stroke, the power of your climax is building to its peak as you gasp his name in pleasure. His pelvic movements increase the more you plead and when the climaxes hit, your thighs tightening as the ecstasy releases, he collapses beside you, burying his nose in your neck as you gleefully intertwine your fingers with his. Completing the night with a happiness you thought you would never find again.

And waking up to Hoseok every morning henceforward, has become your new favorite thing. Especially with his arm always being laced around your waist, his gentle, slow kisses along the back of your neck. The way his eyes light up every time he so much as glimpses at you, and all you can think, as your smile never dims, is this what it’s like to be happy again? When he lingers above you after you both freshen up, his frilly hair tickles your forehead, your hands run along his bare chest, landing on his shoulders then tracing to his neck, you are so captivated with him, you forget about the world still turning outside of your bedroom walls.

Hoseok has never felt this way for anyone before, not until he met you. The first day back in the restaurant a couple years ago, he never dreamed he would ever awaken to you cuddled in his arms, longing for his embrace, and leaving traces of kisses upon his face, giggling at his jokes, wanting to learn more about him, the same as he wants to learn everything about you. His finger runs along the side of your face as he cherishes every ounce of your beauty shining from your heart out onto your glowing countenance. The words he’s been dying to say are waiting to leave him, your gaze never faltering as he inches to press a loving kiss on your lips.

“I love you,”

You’re stunned at first, the evidence is held by the way your heart skips, but you have never felt joy so astounding as it waves across your heart, your hands still placed behind his neck, you’re nearly speechless, the words close to escaping your lips-

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

“Ah, shit!” you groan, shutting the alarm clock off as the two of you hastily get ready for work. Arriving at your job lately has been filled with light teasing, and prolonged questions especially when your coworkers have noticed the change in your step, dancing around the tables, humming little ditties, snapping your fingers until you take someone’s order. Hoseok still comes to get his pancakes on a daily, the two of you remaining professional although you’d do anything not to bury the desire to smother him with kisses all over his handsome face.

One morning, after Hoseok left the restaurant to head to work, M appears by your side, slamming her crossed arms on the counter.

“He said it, didn’t he,” She accuses, her knowing grin meets her eyes. You can’t stop the smile forming on your lips, as you continue to fiddle with a bracelet Hoseok gifted you. “He did!” M gasps, pulling you into a tight hug. Your best friend has shipped this relationship since the beginning, she has proclaimed, and there is no one else you’d want to share your joy with than her. “Double date this Friday?” She beams whenever you both pull away.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you smile, pulling her into another hug.

As another month slips away into time, many days of Hoseok hugging you from behind, cornering you with sultry kisses, asking you questions you’d never think he’d come up with, gifting you with his presence in every way he can. You’ll never get tired of him, you’ll never get tired of this, you think inwardly, gripping the front of his short-sleeved, flowery shirt hanging loose on his frame.

“Oh,” Hoseok groans, “Why do you do this to me?” He smiles, stealing a quick kiss. Once he pulls away, you can’t help but tease.

“I’m not done, yet,” pulling him to your lips again, feeling his smile once you do. You fall back onto the couch, his dark green ballcap still remains on his head, as his figure tangles with yours, getting lost in your kiss as he deepens it. His warm hand grips your waist causing your shirt to rise to reveal exposed skin he then caresses as his other hand rests beside you. Hands cupping his face, your thumbs stroke his cheeks, your gasps light as he trails his lips along your neck.

When you then return to kiss him, his warmth overtaking you, a knock on the door sounds. Jolting in surprise, you raise your head with furrowed eyebrows, taking a second to register it. You both are confused since you haven’t been expecting anyone.

“Maybe it’s M,” you shrug. Hoseok and you straighten your clothes, him fixing his fluffy bangs and setting his hat straighter. Walking to the door, you unlock the deadbolt, slowly opening it to reveal who is waiting behind it. When your eyes fall upon the figure, the shock engulfing you nearly shatters your entire being, your eyes widening as the pain stabs every millimeter of your entirety.

Jeongguk, your long-lost past, stands before you, hands in his pockets, his eyes holding sorrow as he swallows panicky, trying to gather his words and failing. You can’t move, you’re frozen in place, your words robbed from you, as you feel the world turn ice cold. “Hi,” he murmurs, his brown eyes barely holding your gaze, your hands wanting to tremble as one grips the door handle, the other gripping the door frame until your fingertips are ghost white. When Hoseok notices your tense shoulders, your body rigid, concern immediately dawns on him as he steps to stand by your side.

“[Y/N]?” Hoseok says. You turn to see him, his eyes staring ahead of him to discover your ex-boyfriend whose eyes enlarge at the sight of Hoseok who reaches to rest a hand on your back to steady you. Nausea wallows in the depths of your stomach, your fingertips brush Hoseok’s free wrist, him immediately meeting your frantic eyes. As if he reads your mind, he nods once in understanding ‘I won’t be far’ his eyes read, then flickering one more intimidating look at Jeongguk before turning into the apartment. You opened up to Hoseok about the breakup, but never once did you think the past would come to haunt you, especially now that you have given your heart to someone else. Someone who deserves it. Swiftly you close the door behind you, swallowing once before looking up at Jeongguk, tears pooling in your eyes as your body trembles, the pain so overwhelming, you’re surprised you’re still standing.

Jeongguk begins softly, “[Y/N],”

“Where have you been?”

Your tone is angrier than you expect, but can you really blame yourself? He left you without a warning, leaving you feeling worthless, trying to figure out how to manage the pain without any explanation. Without any closure. Jeongguk is tense, his dark hair covers his forehead, his thin lips part as he lets out a weary sigh.

“[Y/N],” he whispers, “I’m so sorry, I-”

“You’re sorry!?” You breathe in astonishment, still fighting the tears wanting to trail continuously down your face, your arms hugging yourself tight to suppress the shivering. “Seven months without a trace, and you’re sorry!?” Your whispered voice reveals the agony, Jeongguk wincing at the pain he’s caused, shame hovering his mien. How can someone you used to admire, someone you used to shower with warm embraces, share an irrevocable love betray you in the blink of an eye? It’s something you will never understand. Everything you once adored about him has faded with time, the pain subsided, you almost forgot about him entirely, until now. “Did you not think I deserved a warning?” You question, “A conversation!?”

He stares up at the dark night, his tired eyes trying to hide the tears threatening to spill onto his jacket. “I’m sorry, [Y/N]. I didn’t know what to do. I felt stuck. I felt-”

“And you didn’t consider that maybe I needed to know that?” You raise your hand in irritation, none of what he’s saying makes any sense. “I loved you.” You choke back a sob, “I would have done anything for you. How could you just dismiss it like that didn’t mean a damn thing to you?”

“[Y/N],” Chin quivering, his hands leave his pockets reaching in your direction.

“No!” you cry, backing away from him, “Don’t touch me.” Jeongguk settles his hands to his sides, not meeting your gaze as large tears stream down his cheeks, longing to comfort you though he knows he’s lost all opportunity to do so. “Tell me why,” you wipe at the tears, preparing yourself for whatever truth he may reveal, “After three years together, tell me why.”

Jeongguk runs a hand through his hair, his wounded expression hesitant, “It was the same routine every day.” He confesses, his voice thick with repressed pain, “I felt like I was living the same day on repeat over and over again until I just- I couldn’t take it anymore.” The words cut like knives, deep into your heart, tearing at you leaving gaping wounds in their wake. Jeongguk had become bored with you. He became so bored with the life the two of you lived, that he just left it all behind to obtain whatever he thought he would find. Now it all makes sense, the nights he stopped holding you close, the empty conversations, the distance you brushed off as him needing space, it all comes back to you at once. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I wanted to see the world. I wanted to-” Words die on his tongue as he clenches his jaw, “I wanted to-”

Anger bubbles as your hands form into fists, “Hold on,” you mutter through clenched teeth, pulling the door open, stomping to the bedroom, Hoseok’s voice calling your name, pain searing through you as you thrust open the closet door, tossing things out of the way until you find it. Gripping it in your hands, you trample back to the doorway, shoving it in Jeongguk’s hands, him nearly dropping it to shatter in pieces. When he turns the jar, his mouth opens in surprise, the word Ireland stares back at him.

“What?” He breathes, his voice hardly audible.

“I was saving as much as I could for a trip to Ireland. For us! For you!” You say through clenched teeth, the anger still boiling as you try to steady your breathing. You can tell he’s alarmed, and if he thought he was abashed enough as it is, nothing tops the humiliation he feels as his eyes remain glued to the jar full of money meant for a dream the two of you could have lived together.

“I don’t- I don’t know what to say,”

“Seems like you never did,” your comment is harsh, but you stand your ground because if there is anything you will not do, is to let him think for one second, he will ever stand a chance of winning you back. “I wasn’t enough for you.” You shake your head slowly, “I see that now,” Reaching for the jar, Jeongguk hands it to you in defeat, his heart torn in so many pieces for what he’s done, he knows he will never forgive himself for what he did to you. To someone who loved him unconditionally. To someone, he wished he would have realized he had when he had you.

“[Y/N], I’m so sorry, please. Just please know that,” he whispers, his eyes pleading as your heart wrenches at his words, wishing the pain of this situation would officially heal. Your quavering hand searches for the door handle behind you, your demeanor resonating nothing but true anguish. Staring at his face, his dimples visible from his pressed lips as his chin trembles, tears reappearing in the eyes you used to get lost in, the line of his jaw you used to trace dreamily every morning when first waking up, every desire to hear his voice is gone. Disappeared forever in the past where memories of him will linger but will never be longed for. With one more stare, your body weak from the shock, you gather enough strength to let it all go. To let him go.

“Goodbye, Jeongguk,” you whisper, turning the knob to the front door, “Goodbye.”

You don’t look back, and you don’t plan to. Shutting the door behind you, your back remains against it as you squeeze your eyes shut, wanting to slip to the floor, but instead you set your Ireland jar on the ground. Your body feels so drained from all your nerves being shot that you’re not sure what else to do other than to remain frozen in place.

“[Y/N]?” Hoseok’s voice is barely a whisper. Opening your eyes, you meet Hoseok’s, his lips turned down in a devastated frown, his heart broken at the pain he sees you’re going through. With a quick pace, you walk toward him, collapsing into his arms, the wails escaping you as every tear you’ve tried to hold back stream like waterfalls down your face. You can’t find any words, just crying the hurt away, Hoseok holds you tight against his chest. When your sobs gradually cease, Hoseok notices the jar near the door, and with respect, he kept his distance from the door earlier, letting your conversation between you and your ex-boyfriend remain private. Pulling away, you follow his gaze, guilt overwhelming you because you never told him about the savings jar. Mostly since it was originally created with the idea of going with a previous partner. Now, it’s simply savings for yourself, though it will take some time for you to see it that way.

When Hoseok picks up the jar, he reads the logo in the center, shock overwhelming him. Little do you know, ever since you told him months ago that your dream was to go to Ireland, he also has been putting extra money in a savings jar with the intent on surprising you one day. Though he wants to tell you, especially with how surreal this whole situation is, he doesn’t. Between the money you saved along with his, he knows that it’s enough to cover the cost of the whole trip between you both. Inwardly, he comes up with a plan, if his job is okay with it, and possibly your job, then maybe he can continue arranging your surprise after all.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, hugging yourself tightly in order to find some comfort, sniffing back at the sting of tears brimming your eyes.

“Why are you apologizing?” Hoseok sets the jar on the coffee table in front of the couch, immediately pulling you into his arms. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Hearing his words moves you, and you cling to him, never wanting to let him go as long as you live. You’re not sure what else to say or do other than to hold him, letting his arms bring a comfort you’ve fallen in love with, his fingers stroking the line of your spine, his warm lips moving to press a tender kiss on yours. When he rests his forehead against yours, your hands hold his wrists as he cups your face, the both of you enthralled with each other without even having to use words. You pull away momentarily, just enough to stare into Hoseok’s soft, brown eyes. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you whisper for only him to hear. When Hoseok’s eyes reveal tears, he’s tried so hard to hold back, his bottom lip trembling, you finally say the words you’ve felt within your heart ever since the night of your first kiss with him,

“Before you gave me the dandelion seeds,” Tears spill onto your cheeks, your voice wavering, “you asked me what the biggest wish I ever wished was,” you recall, the memory swarming in your mind feels as if it was lived just yesterday, “At the time, I honestly wasn’t sure. Not that I really had a second to answer you, but one thing I longed for, especially at that moment, was happiness.” You wet your lips, Hoseok’s eyes never leaving yours as he listens to your every word, “A few days after you gave the dandelions to me, I did make a wish.” You admit, a smile adorning your face, “I realized that every time you walked into those doors, I never stopped smiling. Every time you saw me, you took the chance to know me, finding a way to make me smile again and again,” you look down timidly for a moment, a sweet giggle escaping your lips, “When I made my wish, Hoseok, I wished for you,” Hoseok’s arms squeeze you closer, his face cuddling to yours as joy flies within his soul. You meet his gaze one more time,

“You are my happiness, Hoseok,” your heart soars, “And, I love you with all I am.”

Four months later…

“Hey, Hobi?” You bellow from your bedroom as you shuffle through your drawers, “I swear I put it in here,” you mutter to yourself, tossing each article of clothing out of the way to glimpse for what you’re looking for.

“Yes, [Y/Nickname]?” Hoseok’s voice calls back to you, the sound of his footsteps nearing. When he pauses at the door frame, he leans against it, an amused expression on his face as he watches you struggle, his hands slipping into his jeans’ pockets.

You briefly glare at him trying to stifle the grin wanting to tug onto your lips, “Where is my flower crop top, you know, the one I wore recently? I swear I put it in the drawer.”

“Did you check the closet?” He asks, and you pause for a moment.

“I did,” you murmur, putting your fingertips to your mouth as you begin to chew at the bottom of your lip, “I wanted to wear it again this weekend when I have a girl’s night out with LenLen and M.”

You’re in your work uniform in preparation to leave in the next ten minutes, and you’re nearly driving yourself mad by not being able to find your current favorite top.

“Did you check the laundry? The washer?” Hoseok questions, you are nodding in reply.

Raking a hand through your hair, you heave a heavy sigh, “I’m just gonna go make some toast real quick. I’ll just look for it tonight,” You notice in your peripheral vision, Hoseok chuckling to himself, but you brush it off, throwing some toast into the toaster. After a minute, it’s ready and you set it on a plate spreading some of your favorite jam along the crusty slice. When warm arms encompass you from behind, you nearly melt, leaning your head back as Hoseok plants a warm kiss on the side of your neck. “I loathe you,” you joke, your smile so wide, butterflies tickle your tummy, you turn enough to steal a quick kiss, letting the sensation of his lips linger. When you desire for one more, instead you’re greeted with a likewise smile,

“I didn’t know people like to kiss somebody they despise,”

“Oh,” you playfully slap his shoulder, returning to the toast you’re eager to stuff your face with. “I need to leave for work.” You state, taking a large bite from your breakfast.

“No, you don’t,” Hoseok’s words catch you by surprise as you turn fully to face him, the toast still in your mouth for your second bite. A few strands of loose hair fall into your face.

“I wish,” you groan, taking a third bite of the toast, “But, ya girl’s gotta make a living somehow.” You shrug, turning back around to unplug the appliance.

There’s a pause for a moment, your gorgeous boyfriend eyeing you, his dark, fluffy hair close to covering his soft eyes. “What if-” He begins, inching closer to you, “What if I were to tell you that you really don’t have to go to work today?” Slowly, you turn to face him once again, staring at him in confusion, “I’m serious, what if I were to tell you that for the next two weeks you will be off work? Too far away to be available for them to call you in?”

Eyeing him suspiciously, you cross your arms, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, “Well, it’s Monday, don’t you have to work?” You counter, your toast mostly devoured at this point. When Hoseok chuckles, you playfully scoff, rolling your eyes, “You’re so full of it.”

You nudge your shoulder to him as you brush past, reaching for your purse and car keys, preparing to walk out the front door.

“You really don’t have to go to work today,” Hoseok, still laughing, you whirl around to face him, your hands landing on your hips in humored irritation. “Or, for the next two weeks if I’m being precise.”

“Jung Hoseok,” you huff, “if you do not tell me what the hell is going on, I will knock you into yesterday so fast-”

“Whoa, whoa,” he holds his hands out in mock defense, he’s still laughing it takes him a moment before he continues, “I mean you can totally do that if you’d like, but I would hate for the second ticket to Ireland to go to waste.”

What. Did he just say?

Your limbs are limp, freezing in place, your jaw drops, your eyes widen, tears of shock pooling along your eyelids, “What?” You breathe, your purse falling from your arm as well as your keys from your numb fingers. “Did you just say?” Hoseok nods, your heart hammering beneath you as you gaze at the love of your life standing before you with his never-ending smile.

“You’re not going to work for the next two weeks because you will be in Ireland,” his words are loving as he speaks, “With me.”

“You mean it?” Your voice comes out in an excited choke as adrenaline rushes through your veins. “Hoseok, do you mean it? Is this for real!?”

“I mean it, [Y/N]. One hundred percent,” And with that, you sprint to him, jumping into his arms, he lifts you up, spinning you around multiple times, tears streaming down your face in pure happiness.

“WE’RE GOING TO IRELAND!” You shout, him setting you down, the two of you enveloped in each other’s arms, swaying side to side as you cry into his shoulder. A dream you have dreamed for so long is finally coming true all because of the man standing right before you. Gasping, you pull away,

“I need to pack!” You freak, your fingers gripping his biceps absentmindedly.

“Already done,” Hoseok chirps, his eyes dancing when you meet his gaze with furrowed eyebrows.

“What about M and LenLen?”

“Were in on it the whole time,” He winks.

“What?”

“I already packed our bags,” He muses, “The top you’re missing? Amongst many other articles of clothing I managed to sneak past you, are awaiting in packed bags in the trunk of my car.” You stare at him in amazement, so speechless you’re not even sure if you’re comprehending what he’s saying by the shock overpowering your mind. “Also, LenLen and Monnie planned that trip to distract you from becoming suspicious,” Hoseok pinches your chin with his fingertips, “Oh,” He says, “Our flight leaves in less than three hours, so I don’t know about you, but I think we should get going.”

“Well,” You breathe, “What are you waiting for, slowpoke!? Let’s go!” You grab his hand, dragging him headfirst through the front door, locking it behind the two of you as you both jog to his car, his laugh echoing in the air- the both of you are ecstatic for the journey ahead. Once the two of you arrive at the airport, you both figure out luggage and board the plane, Hoseok lets you sit at the window, your eyes gazing at the land below you, your fingers intertwined with his, basking in the scenery you never dreamed you’d finally see.

As your eyes remain outside the window, Hoseok’s eyes remain on you as he falls in love with you all over again- watching you stare at the earth below in astonishment, every now and then nudging him to peek outside at whatever captured your vision. Unbeknownst to you, he has so much more in store. He planned this trip from beginning to end, and though nervous jitters surround his heart, there is nowhere else he’d rather be, than right by your side,

holding your hand until the end of time.

Greenery sways in the wind, the deep green losing its glisten as the sun sets ahead, the cattle spread across the field grazing among the grass, the purple and orange hues reflecting in the sky as a gentle, warm breeze wisps through your hair. Hoseok closes his eyes, his chin pointed upward enjoying the feel of it all the same as you are, the land so immense it’s as though the few dirt paths never end. His fingers are interlaced with yours, a mason jar on the center of the table- previously refilled with numerous questions he had yet to ask you- two freshly picked dandelions lay on the other side of the jar, the deep gold of the petals vibrant, their fragrance meeting your nose as you inhale the sweet scent. Ireland. A land you’ve longed to tread for so many years, and here you are, sitting in the country, basking in the scenery encompassing the two of you.

“There’s one more question left,” Hoseok speaks, a loving grin forming on his pink lips when your dreamy gaze meets his.

“I know,” you whisper, him squeezing your hand. Staring at the final piece of folded paper at the bottom of the mason jar, with your free hand, you reach into it, noticing it is held down by one small piece of tape. That’s funny, you wonder, scraping at the corner of the tape as tediously as you can. Struggling, you hardly notice Hoseok rising to his feet, scooting off to side out of your peripherals, his fingers leaving yours momentarily to adjust at his shirt collar. Once the tape loosens just enough to remove from the bottom of the jar, you bring the folded paper closer to you, using both hands to carefully unfold it.

The second you register the words staring back at you, tears brim your eyes as a gasp escapes your lips, bringing your fingertips to your mouth, your gaze turns to land upon Hoseok, kneeled before you, tears welling in his own eyes as his lips tremble, reaching into his pocket to reveal a small, black velvet box, your heart pounding within your chest as you let out a breathy cry.

“[Y/N],” Hoseok begins, your fingers covering beneath your eyes as you wipe every tear that pours. “When I first met you, there was something about you that made me want to know you more and more every day.

Maybe it’s the way you smiled at me every morning when I arrived at the restaurant. Or, the way your eyes lit up the moment you greeted someone at every table. Or, your cheery voice when you’re around your friends and family. Or, the way you stay strong despite what is thrown at you.

But what really got me, what really inspired me, is the way that you see the world.” You gaze at the man before you, getting lost in his brown eyes, your heart soaring with his every word,

“Wishes instead of weeds. Something that is seen to be negative, you see as the most beautiful source to decorate the earth. Something that you can wish on to bring positivity. To bring hope.” Hoseok pauses, a tear streaming down his face, “I knew when I met you that you were someone special. But, that day, that day particularly, I knew right then that I wanted you in my life regardless.” Hoseok wets his lips, as another tear spills on his cheek, “Forever,” he breathes, “[Y/N]?” He opens the velvet box exposing a beautiful, shimmering diamond ring, “Will you make my biggest wish I’ve ever wished come true, and marry me?”

When your wide smile adorns your face, an excited gasp leaves your lips,

“I thought you’d never ask!”

153 notes · View notes

btsmakesmehappy · 4 years

Text

Palate Cleanser | 2

Genre: Agent au, friends with benefit (sort of), Stranger to lover, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Pairing: Agent!Taehyung x Baker!reader

Word Count: 7,7k

Rating: 18+ (M)

Warning: oral sex (M/F receiving), penetrative sex, protective sex, crying after sex

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 completed

Summary: Taehyung needs something to take his mind off his broken heart. His best friend, Jimin, suggests that he should meet another woman and the first woman he met was you. Would you help him even though you have your own problem, that you hate men?

a/n: Thankyou for @detectivebts for beta-read this!! Thankyou for staying sane after reading this bad-grammar story of mine. you’re my savior <3

Series Masterlist: The Company

You are awakened by the sound of your blaring alarm. Your head hurts so bad. You look at the table in front of you to find that there are two bottles of wine, not one. Why did you drink that much? Your neck is throbbing with pain because you fell asleep on the couch. You sit carefully and pick your phone on the floor to turn the alarm off, your eyes widening as you scroll through your messages.

01.24 am Y/N: Hi! I am y/n. Thank you for giving me your number. I am interested in your service. But first, I must ask you. How much is your pay? And do you accept any kinky requests? Because I have some, y’know. Kkk

You yell a silent scream. What the fuck did I send? You hold the message bubble to find an ‘unsend’ option, but there is none. That’s the beauty of messaging when you hit the send button, you can’t unsend it. You curse yourself silently. You scroll to the bottom, hoping Taehyung didn’t reply to you.

01.29 am Taehyung: I’m sorry, what?

01.30 am Y/n: you know... Are you a dom or sub? Kkk I am fine either way though.

01.31 am Y/n: but really. How much? I still have an installment on my coffee machine, so can you give me a discount?

01.31 am Y/n: you are so handsome. Plz?

You let your phone drop to the ground and you bang your head on the table. Jesus, what should I do now? You don’t even bother to look at the following messages. You feel as if you could die of embarrassment right now. Maybe you should just ignore the fact that you messaged him, pretend that it didn’t happen. Is it even possible to do damage control? You pick your phone again and hesitantly scroll through the messages.

01.34 am Taehyung: I don’t understand what you mean.

01.34 am Taehyung: but I am not a hooker

01.35 am Taehyung: also a bad idea for having an installment on a coffee machine.

Oh my God, I literally just told him that he is a prostitute. You bite your nails anxiously. You just lost your –maybe- a loyal customer from your bakery. Stupid drunk bitch.

You couldn’t work at all. You look at the door every time the bell rings, hoping it is the man with that curly hair. You sighed every time it wasn’t him.

Hani also notices that something is wrong with you. She has never seen you this agitated since high school when you waited for your mother to come home after you failed a class. And from that point on, she knows you are waiting for something or maybe someone. “Who are you waiting for?”

You jerk your head towards her and chuckled nervously. “What do you mean?”

“You have looked at the door almost 50 times already.” Then the bell rings, and you look at the door. “51 times.”

You fiddle the hem of your shirt. “Just someone.”

Her eyes twinkled in excitement. She marches towards you. “Who is this particular someone?” She smirks. “Is that handsome guy, isn’t it?”

Your eyes widen and your jaw drops. “How could you know?”

She puts her hands in front of her mouth. “Oh my God, finally! You like a guy!” She hugs you tightly. “I am so happy for you.”

You force-release her. “No, it’s not like that.”

She frowns her brows, thinking. “So why?”

“It’s just... I did something bad. And I think I need to apologize to him.” Your head drops.

Hani doesn’t ask anymore. She knows that you won’t explain anything further until you want to. There’s no point in forcing you to spill the beans. She smiles motherly. “Just apologize to him then.”

“Ho- How?” you bite your nails.

“Just find him, you dummy. You know where he works, right?”

You remember the card on your nightstand. “I think it is called ‘The Company’. But I don’t know where it is.”

Hani’s eyes widen. “What? He works in the Company? Wow. That’s so cool.”

You tilt your head. “You know where it is?”

“Of course I know! It is the big building around the corner, 2-3 blocks from here.” She points to the direction of the building. “I don’t know what that company does but it is always full of good looking people whenever I walk past it. Maybe it’s a modeling agency?”

“Would you mind if I go there for a bit?” You plead. “But should I? Won’t I be bothering him?”

“You’ll be fine! Just go!” She pats your shoulder. “And besides, you worked alone yesterday, and I have been feeling so guilty about it, so just think about it as a break too. Jackson is coming so I won’t be alone, don’t worry.”

You then walk to the locker and change to your usual clothes quickly. Before you walk to the door, you pick up some bread and muffins, putting them into a paper bag, not wanting to apologize without a peace offering. “I will go for a bit then.” You then stare at Hani. “And please, don’t have sex in the kitchen. It’s just unsanitary.”

You can see blush forming on her cheeks. She let out a dry laugh. “Fair enough. Just go already!”

You walk to the building with an anxious heart. Hani is right, it is not that far from your bakery. You can even see it in the distance, it is hard to miss, hundreds of glass windows towering above the other buildings. The security in the building is no joke too. You need to go through a security check before going inside. But you need an appointment before you go through the security. And It is just stupid of you to just walk to someone’s office without making an appointment, especially in this sophisticated of a building.

You pace restlessly in front of the building, maybe I should just call him? but what if he’s busy? Last night you accused him of being a prostitute and now you disturb him at work? What a nice person you are. Just when you decide to turn around and go back to your bakery, someone calls your name.

“Y/N?”

You turn your head to the source of the sound. And there is the person you want to avoid and see at the same time, standing in front of you. Destiny is funny sometimes. He wears a light blue shirt and gray pants, with a jacket thrown over his arm. He eyes you curiously, and then he walks towards you.

“Hello. Nice to see you again.” You nod politely, avoiding his gaze.

He smiles as he drags you to the sidewalk. “What are you doing here?”

You bite your lower lip harshly. Damn it! I haven’t thought about what I should say to him! You just look at your feet and gulp. “About last night..”

Taehyung hides his smile, “Oh about how you don’t care if I am a sub or a dom?”

You put your hand in front of his mouth quickly, before he says anything else. His lips attach to your palm and you can feel his hot breath against your skin, making your heart beats faster. “I-I was drunk, okay? I- I just want to apologize for last night.” You take your hand off his mouth and drop it to your side. You still can feel how soft his lips were on your hand. You then hold out the paper bag to him. “This is a gift.”

He takes the paper bag from you. “Oh, thanks. Don’t worry about it. We’ve all had that night at some points in our lives.” He chuckles. As he looks at you, he can’t help but notice how you won’t meet his eyes, how you fiddle with your shirt nervously. You look weird, weirdly cute. He can’t keep his eyes away from you.

Just before you reply to him, another man comes towards you two. “Taehyung-ah. Who are you talking to?” He stops when he looks at you, eyeing you curiously, taking in your figure. “So, who is the pretty lady?” He smiles. You look at him carefully, He too is an attractive man. What is this company exactly? He then puts his arms casually around Taehyung’s shoulders.

“Oh sorry Hyung, just my friend.” Taehyung replies. “This is Y/N. And Y/N, this is Hoseok.”

Hoseok reaches his hand out. And just like yesterday and every other day, you hesitate. You wonder if you could just run away from him, but it will be too impolite of you. Hell, you are here to apologize for last night, you don’t need another reason to apologize. You look at his hand, waiting for you, and finally, you decide to shake his hand. “Nice to meet you.” You say softly.

“Hi! It is nice to meet you.” The corners of his eyes crinkle with his big smile and the cute sound coming from his mouth, it is just so bright, like a ray of warm sunshine on an autumn day. You have never met such a shining person in your life. “Well, I want to get to know you, but I am afraid I have to go. I will wait in the car.” Hoseok pats Taehyung’s shoulder and waves to you. He walks to the black SUV parked in front of the building.

Taehyung nods to him while he still hides his laughter. He can feel how tense you are when you meet Hoseok. He just feels you are too cute, and at the same time, he is relieved that you are tense and nervous with every man, not only him. Also, the fact that you came to see him and talked to him, he has a weird feeling inside his chest. “Well, I should go. Thanks for the bread, I was starving.” He smiles. He leans to you and whispers to your ear. “I am not kidding, you know, about yesterday.” He winks. Taehyung the pats your head softly. “Please text me after you arrived safely at the bakery, okay?”

You can feel his warm breath on your ear and it makes you shudder. And his deep voice? It just makes your heart race. He smirks as he walks away from you. He suddenly turns around to you, “Y/N!” he yells. “Please bring the red bean paste bread next time! It was delicious!” He waves casually and gets into the car.

You’re left stunned on the sidewalk as the car pulls away. Taehyung is a unique guy, that’s for sure. How else can you explain his antics and his out-of-the-blue talking and not to mention his friendliness. You have never met a guy like him. You hate all men, but somehow you can’t hate this one. He seems to be a proper and a genuinely nice guy.

As your heart races rapidly and your hands go clammy, you turn around and walk back to your bakery, mulling over what to text him, a smile spreading across your face as your pace quickens.

Taehyung takes a piece of bread from the paper bag and eats it right away in the car. He forgot to have breakfast, and basically, you were like an angel sent from heaven for him just now. An angel with a bag full of food.

Hoseok drives the car and sometimes looks at Taehyung beside him. Taehyung looks more cheerful though, and it makes Hoseok relieved. “So, who is the girl?”

Taehyung raises his eyebrow and looks at him weirdly. “Are you okay, hyung? Did you forget that you actually just met her?” his mouth is still full of bread, trying to chew in between.

“I know it’s Y/N, dumbass. Where did you meet her?”

He swallows. “I met her in the bakery a few blocks from our office a couple of times.”

“Wow, isn’t it just fate? Like a movie? You met the girl coincidentally two times, no, three times!” Hoseok’s face lit up. He is always known to be a hopeless romantic like Jimin. But unfortunately for him, he has not met the love of his life yet. So somehow, poking into someone else’s love life is one of his hobbies.

“Not exactly.” He opens another bread. “She works there.”

Hoseok pouts. “Why are you ruining my fantasy? Then why did she go to our building then?”

“To meet me.”

“Oh my god! Does she love you? Was that why she looked for you?” Hoseok’s eyes twinkle in excitement.

“No. Please stop imagining things!” Taehyung chuckles. “She just wanted to apologize.”

He knits his eyebrow. “For what?”

Taehyung opens his third bread. His phone vibrates then, and when Taehyung opened it, it’s from thebreadgirl. It’s how he saves your name in his phone. He smiles. “It’s a secret.” He then types on the keys for a bit and puts it back into his pocket, a smile plastered to his face.

Hoseok presses his lips together, hiding his smile. He has known Taehyung for almost 5 years. He knows when Taehyung fell in love with that girl, how sad he was when she broke his heart. Hoseok knows all of that. But now it’s different. He has never seen Taehyung like this. And somehow he knows, Taehyung won’t be needing to go to the strip clubs anymore.

Taehyung yawns for the millionth time that afternoon. He thought that the job would be fun. But it is the opposite of that. It is boring. He can’t do anything. He can’t go anywhere. He is just in the car watching the target, who is nowhere to be seen in front of his office. He is glad that you gave him a bunch of bread. At least, they won’t starve during this stake-out.

“Hyung, how long do we wait for him?” Taehyung asks.

Hoseok chews the bread from you. “Probably a couple of hours. Oh, wait. There he is!”

Taehyung turns his head to the building. He can see a tall man holding his bag walking from the building. Park Chanyeol. He lives in the same neighborhood as Ji Seok. Last seen with him at a work party, a couple of days before Ji Seok went to Hawaii. Ji Seok has gone silent in the interrogation room, refusing to expose other plans or members. He is a damn good criminal.

Taehyung only heard from the other members how the interrogation went. Namjoon went first and as calm as Namjoon usually was, he almost threw his fists with Ji Seok. Almost, as he was stopped by Hoseok and Jin, who rushed to the interrogation room. Namjoon was then not allowed to enter the room because he was too emotional. Well, his girl almost got killed by Ji Seok, who wouldn’t be mad? Thus, Hoseok and Jin handled the interrogation. But they couldn’t find out any more clues about Black. Why does Ji Seok suddenly need money after all these years? It could only mean one thing, they’re preparing something. Then after many hours of investigating, Yoongi stumbled on something. The 3 suspects.

Chanyeol walks at the perfect time, the road full of people making it less likely he’ll notice he’s being followed. Taehyung puts his hat and gets out of the car. He walks towards Chanyeol quickly. Chanyeol is still busy using his phone, scrolling while walking. Taehyug catches up quickly, then, pretending to trip, he knocks the phone from his hand. As he picks it up, he quickly slips a tracker on the phone and hands it back to Chanyeol. He bows while apologizing profusely before turning tail and making his way back to the car.

“How is it?” Taehyung asks through his comm when he’s halfway back to the car.

Hoseok reports. “We got it. Let’s go back for now.”

Taehyung opens the car and jumps in, removing his hat. “So, what should we do now?”

“Well, you should check his schedule first, see if there’s anything suspicious. I am gonna follow him for a bit. You called me if you find anything, okay?”

Taehyung grumbles, “You do know, that it’d be easier to just kidnap him, right?”

Hoseok chuckles. “I know. But now, since our company has been noticed, we should be more subtle. You know how agents have to sometimes follow their target for several years before getting enough evidence?” he sighs. “Well, we might have to do that.”

Taehyung’s jaw drops. “What? Several years?” He whines. “I can’t handle this boring job!”

Hoseok pats his shoulder, “I don’t like this as much as you do.” He hands him a phone. “Here is Chanyeol's duplicate phone. I’ve just downloaded it. From now on, will we work carefully okay? You go back to the Company, and investigate it.”

Taehyung pouts as he gets out of the car. Hoseok then drives away, leaving Taehyung alone in the crowded road.

You walk to your apartment, with your phone on your hand. You scroll and look at the message you sent.

10.57 am Y/N: I arrived safely.

10.57 am Y/N: I still don’t understand why you asked me to do this when my bakery is just a few minutes away.

10.59 am Taehyung: good then

11.00 am Taehyung: never underestimate criminals, muffin.

11.01 am Taehyung: you can’t die. Who will pay for your coffee machine then? :(

11.03 am Y/N: pls stop. u jerk.

11.03 am Y/N: And why are you calling me muffin?

11.15 am Taehyung: your muffin was really good.

11.15 am Taehyung: thankyou. I will come back soon.

You feel a heat rushing to your face. It is weird for you, how a simple sentence can make your heart racing. You are positive that Taehyung is a playboy with a sweet mouth, whom you should stay away from as he’s surely only trouble, and yet you want to get closer to him. You want to know him better. You were attracted to him.

Maybe that’s why you dated Youngjae. You are always attracted to the wrong man. A man who cheated on you afterward.

You are envious of Hani. She chose a nice man who is now her boyfriend –soon to be fiance (as Jackson told you). She always chooses wisely. God only knows, maybe it is a gift.

You open your apartment’s door, kicking your shoes. You throw your jacket and purse on the couch. You look at the table, the wine bottles and glass have been neglected when you had the mental breakdown this morning. You take them and put them in the kitchen. You wash the glass quickly and hang it on the rack and you put the bottle beside your trash can. You begin to strip in front of your bathroom. You want to take a bath tonight. Your body is tired and you really hope that a hot bath can help you with it.

It has been a while since you took a bath. You have been so busy that you could only afford a shower. A bath is like a luxury to you. You light some candles and put bath salt in your bath. You put your phone in a waterproof bag to watch a movie on Netflix. After checking the temperature, you step into the bath. As the warmth envelopes you in, you feel relaxed for a bit.

Why does Taehyung want to help you in the first place? Is that just his trick to get a woman in his bed? Does he see you as an easy woman? Does he walk around the city finding insecure women and trick them to sleep with him? But he seems nice. Or all of the bad guys look like that? You thought Youngjae was a good man too before.

You sigh. It has been almost 5 years already, you have never been with a man since your ex. Why? Do you still love Youngjae? Is that why you can’t move on? Maybe you still have a little bit of feelings for him, he was your first love. And first loves never die, right?

Maybe Hani is right. Maybe you need it. Maybe you need to fuck it out of your system. It can’t hurt to use him right? And you basically know that he is a playboy, so you won’t catch feelings for him, right? Think of it as a one-night-stand. It’s just for sex, you think.

As you’re thinking of different approaches to ask Taehyung in a not slutty way, your phone chimes. You look at your phone and rise quickly from the bath, too quickly that it makes you feel dizzy. You wrap yourself in a towel and get out of the bath quickly.

Taehyung has already looked into Chanyeol’s phone for about ten times. He couldn’t find anything suspicious. He has already forwarded his schedule to Hoseok and Jin. And when Taehyung thinks that his work now is boring, Chanyeol’s work seems fun. Basically, he is paid by how much he eats. It’s like a fantastic job. Tonight, however, he only works at home, which means Taehyung and Hoseok will take turns staking out his place.

Taehyung stretches his body, he hates this kind of work. He was trained as a field agent, he specialized in firearms. He is good at it, hell, he is possibly the best shooter in the company. But he never wants to use his ability in a mission. He always refuses the mission that involves killing people, never once has he brought guns to the mission. He was once sent to war on the border as an aid when he was a recruit and he hated it. He hates the sound of the bullets going through flesh. He hates the smell of gunpowder. He hates blood seeping through the clothes.

The company and many agents love and envy his ability, and yet, he hates it. If he could choose, he wants the ability like Yoongi who can hack almost everything or Namjoon who was born a genius. And yet God gives him power. An ability to kill people.

It’s not that he can refuse the mission. He CAN’T. But when Taehyung threatened to resign from the company if they forced him to kill again, and it just freaked the Company out. So, he gets what he wants, and The Company can keep an eye on him, instead of letting him work somewhere else and becoming a danger to The Company or even the country. Yes, Taehyung is that good.

Maybe this mission is also a punishment for him and other members. They worked in Hawaii without the Higher-ups knowing, so now they are all stuck in this boring job. He sighs and looks around his office. Some are still working and some have already gone home, it’s almost 9 pm after all.

His stomach growls, he hasn’t eaten anything since noon, and it was only bread. He wants to eat something. He looks at his phone, wondering who he should ask to go to dinner with him. His only friends are the members and they are all still working. Should I go to eat by myself? He taps his phone on his thigh. He hates eating alone.

His eyes suddenly lit up. He then swipes his phone and clicks on the messages. He hits the send button and a smile plastered to his face, proudly. I think it is a good idea.

08.57 pm to Y/N: do you want to have dinner with me?

08.57 pm to Y/N: I will wait for you at the diner near your bakery.

08.58 pm to Y/N: see you soon. ;)

Wait. Why did I think about her?

You were shocked to receive those messages. You thought for a moment at first, but walked to your closet to choose your clothes. It was just dinner. And the invitation just came when you tried to figure out what to have for dinner, it is just a perfect coincidence. I did this because I have to eat.

You wear hoodies and jeans from the morning. You look at your reflection in the mirror. Your skin is dull, with some acne scars on your cheeks. Maybe I need some skincare. You shake your head quickly, it is not the time for that. You just grab your almost-dried cushion and pat it quickly on your face. You draw your eyebrows and wear your lip tint. You wanted to use your mascara, but unfortunately for you, it is all dried out. Goodness, you really need to go shopping. You have never paid any attention to yourself, you were busy studying and building a business. And all the make-up you use usually, were all gifts from your friends and family.

You look at your reflection one more time, to make sure you look okay. You grab your purse and your keys and run outside. Your hair is still wet after the bath and the chilly wind makes you shudder even more as you walk. You regret not bringing your jacket with you, yet you don’t want to go back to your apartment if that means making Taehyung wait any longer.

Wait. Why don’t I want to make him wait? You stop for a bit.

You shake your head. It is not for him, it is for your stomach. You are starving. You need food quickly.

You walk faster to the diner. Luckily for you, it is the middle of the week so the diner is not so crowded. You open the door and look around to find a brunette man. The said man waves to you and gestures you to come to him.

“Hey! Thank you for coming.” He smiles. He still wears the same clothes as the morning, so it seems he is from work. “Took you some time, btw.”

You sit on the chair in front of him. You sigh.”You know it’s impolite to ask a woman for an impromptu dinner like this, you know?”

He chuckles as he hands you the menu, while he calls the waiter. He then orders a bulgogi set and an ice tea, which looks good to you so you order the same. As the waiter walks away, he studies you. “Why is your hair wet?”

“I was taking a bath.” You roll your eyes. “So what do you want to talk about?”

He tilts his head. “Nothing.”

You frown your eyebrows. “Then why did you ask me to have dinner with you then?”

“It’s lonely to eat alone.”

“Then ask your friends to eat with you!” you are flabbergasted. He is a weird guy, really. You are just barely an acquaintance with him and yet he asked you to eat with him.

He shrugs, “all my friends are still working, so I asked you.” He beams his smile to you. “And I am sure, you have nothing to do, so, yeah.”

You pout, “I might have something to do!”

Taehyung leans his body towards you. His smile is mischievous. “Really? Like what?”

You did have a plan. You were planning to cook some ramen and eat it while watching Netflix. You think about it for a second, and it is just kind of pathetic. And he doesn’t have to know that stupid plan. “Fine. Fair enough.”

“But, I don’t really think you would show up, you know? I thought you hate men.”

“I do. But I thought you have something to say, so here I am.” You answer as you look at the windows.

It is a lie. Taehyung is amused by how easy it is to read you. You are like an open book. And the way you struggle to lie to save your face, it is just cute. And it makes him want to know you more. “Well, let’s just eat then.”

The food served in front of you. You quickly dig in as you both were starving. The conversations just flow right away. He asks what is your favorite food, how is your childhood. And you ask him how he treats his hair because it looks so soft, what is his favorite singer.

You should hate spending time with men. You felt so awkward when you talked to him yesterday. But apparently, you are now comfortable with him. it is like catching up with an old friend.

Your plate has already emptied when he calls for the waiter. He asks for tiramisu and you ask for an apple pie. And with you two sharing two pieces of desserts, it makes you more comfortable with him. His laughter and his easygoingness are contagious and makes you open up.

“So, your ex-boyfriend cheated on you?” He asks as he cuts your pie and brings it to his mouth.

You then steal a piece from his Tiramisu. “Uh-huh.” You reply dryly. “Why? Do I look pitiful?”

He shrugs. “A little.”

You glare at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s just a pity because of that one terrible man you threw your love life into a dumpster.” He swallows and grabs his tea. “Not all men like that.”

“Yeah, right. You are a man, of course, you will stand up for them.” You snort. “Give me some examples, then.”

“Me.”

You laugh aloud. “Dude, you asked a woman you’ve just met to sleep with you. It is kinda trashy.”

“Well, in my defense, it’s called palate cleanser.” He pouts. “I am just trying to be a nice guy and help you out!”

You nod your head and roll your eyes. “Right. And remind me once again, what does palate cleanser mean?”

He sighs. “Fine.” He trails his eyes to the windows, you can see a hint of blush on his cheeks. “It’s just... I thought we could help each other, you know. My friend also said that I need it too.”

Suddenly the door opened and his eyes widened. You look at him in confusion and turn your head to look at the couple who just entered the diner. The man is handsome with a tall figure. His hair combed neatly. The man smiles sweetly to the woman beside him, and you can see the dimple poking into his cheek. The woman is beautiful. She wears a work suit and heels, and you can feel the intimidating aura coming from her. They look at the menu and talk to the waiter. The woman suddenly turns her head and looks at your direction and smiles. She then drags the man to walk with her.

“Tae!” She yells happily as she walks to your table. “Oh hello!” She looks at you kindly. You smile and nod politely.

“Hi! Why are you two so late?” Taehyung asks. “Did Namjoon lose his keys again?”

Namjoon puts his hands on his hips. “That is unnecessary information! I was in the practice room, that’s why.”

The girl snorts. “Yeah, as you lost your key and locked yourself in.” The waiter then calls them to tell them that their food is ready. “Alright, we are going to go home now. Enjoy your night!” She then walks to the cashier to pick their food, and waves to you and Taehyung.

“Your colleague, I assume?” You ask while stirring your tea. But when you don’t get an answer, you raise your head. Taehyung looks out the window in the direction of the departing couple. You look at the way the man put his arm on her waist, it looks like they're in love. You study Taehyung’s face, he is emotionless. He looks like he is just staring at the road, but his eyes show sadness. “Taehyung?”

He jerks his head to you. “Ah yeah, I am sorry I spaced out.” He gives you a half-smile. “Let me walk you home.” He then asks the waiter for the bill. You both arguing about the bill, but he ended up paying.

The walk to your apartment has never felt this long. No more random conversations between you two. Taehyung has been silent since he saw the couple. Just with one look at him, when he saw her, you know that he loves her. You know that he is hurting. You know that he hides it with his laughter and smile. You know that he loses his composure when he sees her.

You stop in front of your apartment. “This is my apartment. Thank you for dinner and taking me home.” You smile.

“No problem. Thank you to you too.” He waves and turns around, walking away from you.

You can see his broad back. He looks tough, but he looks in pain.

You know because you were him before.

You’ve brokenhearted too.

But before, you had Hani and your family. And Taehyung? He does have his friends, but why do you feel that he is lonely? Why do you want to help him?

“Taehyung!!” you yelled. You then march towards him.

He turns his body to you, eyebrows raised in confusion. “What?”

When you arrive in front of him, you look at his eyes directly. “Let’s do it.”

“I’m sorry. What do you mean?” he asks back.

“Palate cleanser.”

Just before he says anything, you pull his shirt towards you as you crash your lips to his. He stiffens before relaxing and returning the kiss. He puts his hand behind your neck and puts the other one on your back, pulling you closer. You put your arms around his neck. At the moment, you enjoy how soft his lips on yours. His lips move languidly, molding to your lips. You can feel how your heart is racing inside your chest, how heat is forming inside your core. Taehyung opens your lips and pushes his tongue. He explores your mouth with his warm tongue, making you a moaning mess.

You intentionally grind your hips on his, making him moans in your mouth. You can feel his hardness underneath his pants, and it makes you stiff. He smirks in between the kisses as he grinds his hip back in motion. It makes you go crazy. You can feel the wetness seeping into your underwear. You release yourself from the kiss. “Would you like to come to my place?”

Taehyung’s pupils dilate and he gulps. He then picks his abandoned jacket and your purse from the road and drags you to your apartment. You chuckle as you walk faster in front of him. You pick your keys inside your purse and open the door.

As you enter your room, you feel nervous. What should I do now? You gulp as you throw your purse to the couch. “Do you want some coffee?”

“Is that the way you talk dirty?” He walks towards you and throws his jacket on the couch. “If it is, it could use some work, muffin.” He inches you back until you feel the back of your knees hit the couch.

“How about wine?” You feel the heat rushing to your face. You look to the side and when you try to walk away from him he grabs your wrist.

He chuckles. “Where is the brave girl who kissed me just a minute ago?” He cups your face and kisses you softly. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Y/N.” He says as he strokes your cheeks.

You look at his brown eyes. They’re mesmerizing. They’re full of lust but also filled with sadness. You kiss his lips quickly. “I want to. I am just nervous.”

Taehyung then sits on the couch and pulls you onto his lap. “Let’s do this slowly then.” Just as his words leave his lips, his pink lips attach to yours again. This kiss feels more passionate but slow. He strokes your thigh in a circular motion and moves to cup your asses. He kneads the cheeks in motion while his tongue dances with yours. He bites your lower lip a little and makes you moan.

His hand moves slowly to touch your skin under your hoodie. His fingers cold, causing goosebumps to spread up your spine. The way he soothes your back makes your body melt and you feel your core is dripping. You subconsciously roll your wet core to his. You can feel his hardness poking again, and it makes you squirm.

Taehyung removes his lips from yours and moves to your bare neck. Licking your neck slowly, you tremble against his touch. You thank God silently, you took a proper bath before. He kisses your neck and then starts sucking lightly, leaving blooming marks on your neck. You don’t care if your neck is full of his marks. The only thing you think about is just him, touching you.

He then pulls your hoodie up and tosses it to the floor, revealing you in your pink bra. His hands then move to your back, unclasping your bra, letting it fall to the floor. He squeezes your breasts while his lips trail across your chest, littering it with marks. Your breath hitches as he sucks a nipple into his mouth, lavishing it slowly, alternating between licks and nips. He can feel you tremble with each flick of his tongue, knowing that it’s driving you crazy.

His fingers then move to your jeans, making quick work of the buttons. He sneaks his hand into your underwear, his cold fingers brushing against your heat, eliciting a moan to slip from your lips.

“Fuck. You’re dripping already, baby.” He touches your core slowly, making you squirm in the process. Your moans are like a drug to him and when he feels how sensitive you are for him when he nudges your clit, he thinks he is the luckiest man in the world. “These pants have got to go.”

He stands you up and pulls your jeans down with your underwear, leaving you fully naked in front of him. Suddenly a rush of embarrassment fills you, subconsciously you use your hand to cover your breasts and your core.

He then pulls you back to his lap. “You are beautiful.” He kisses your wrist and your inner arm while keeping his eye contacts on you. “I am so lucky.”

Taehyung then slips his finger again to your core. He is running to your slit and then circling your clit. He pinches it slightly, which makes you jolt. “Tae...” he then gathers your wetness with his fingers and pushes his finger into your core. The sensation of his finger inside you is enough to make you cry, and moaning his name.

“Oh my God, you are so tight.” He thrusts his finger into you in motion and he uses his thumb to circling your clit. You almost fall from the lack of support, so you put your arms across his neck and put your forehead on his shoulder. “I need to stretch you out first, muffin.”

He kisses your neck and your shoulder, enjoying how you squirm against him. He can feel how your walls clench around his fingers, watch as your toes begin to curl, your breathing becoming uneven. He knows you are close.

“Taehyung, I am gonna..” you barely can talk, bothered by a rush of pleasure forming inside you.

“Let it go, baby. Let me hear you.” His pace quickens as he plays with your clit and finally it comes. Your vision goes black as you arch your back in delight.

You stay in his embrace and control your breathing. His fingers have already moved from your core to his lips as he licks your arousal from his fingers. “You taste incredible.” Taehyung moves his hands to your back to support your limp and shaking body. You have finally gathered your senses after your orgasm. You kiss his lips slowly and then lower yourself to your knees, positioning yourself between his muscular thighs.

You impatiently unbutton his pants and palm his hardened cock through the clothing. As you stroke slowly, he hisses. He feels hot under your touch and your mouth starts to water. You then pull his cock free, wrapping your hand around his length. As you start to slowly stroke him, you can’t help but to lean forward and lick the precum from his tip. His cock twitching at the sensation.

You work his cock slowly, licking it base to tip, before taking him into your mouth. You glance up to find his head falling back against the coach as he moans your name. You feel his tip hit the back of your throat. Taking a deep breath through your nose, you begin bobbing up and down his length. You hollow your cheeks suddenly and it makes Taehyung move his hand to hold your hair and move his cock deeper to your throat until you choke. You can feel your eyes begin watering, but the thing is, you feel satisfied.

You like how he sounds under your touch. You feel powerful. And when you swallow, you know he barely holds his load. You feel as his cock begins to pulsate and he pulls his cock from your mouth with a sudden motion. Taehyung looks at your fucked up face, your swollen lips, and your flushed face. “Not yet.” Taehyung then swipes the saliva from your lips and pulls you up. He kisses you slowly enjoying the taste of himself on your lips.

He then drags you to your messy bed and slowly pushes your back onto the bed. He takes his shirt off his head and pulls his pants down, kicking it in the process, which makes you giggle. Now naked, you take the opportunity to take in his toned body, golden skin. You can’t help but think that he’s a piece of art.

Taehyung then lowers his body to kiss you. His lips trail again from your lips, your cheeks, your neck, your chest, every inch of skin he can get his lips on. “So pretty.” His lips then slowly move downwards, and finally, he places his head in between your thighs. He kisses your inner thigh softly, marking it with the color of the galaxy. His lips then attached to your hardened bud. He nibbles your clit slowly and lavishes it with his tongue. You can feel another coil of desire begin to form.

He swipes his hot tongue to your slit, devouring your core like a man starved. Your body trembles with the over-sensitivity after your first orgasm. And when he thrusts his tongue to your core, you almost lose it. “Tae, I can’t...”

“You can do it, baby. Come for me.” He licks your sweet arousal carefully, making you moan his name. “Fuck, you taste so good.” He then flicks his tongue on your clit and that’s it. You feel your coil snap as your head falls back and your vision blurs. He licks and kisses your core to collect your arousal as you grind to his face to ride your orgasm.

“Taehyung, I want you.”

He chuckles. He then takes a wrapper from his pants and rips it carefully. He then rolls it on his cock. He gathers your wetness and then aligns his tip in front of your entrance. “Are you sure?” You nod weakly.

“I need you to say it, muffin.”

“I-I am sure. Please, I need you now.” You beg quietly.

You take a deep breath as he pushes himself slowly to you. You whimper at the painful stretch. “You are so tight. Am I hurting you?”

You shake your head weakly. “I just need time.” He leans in to kiss your lips, with his cock still buried inside you. You can taste yourself and his saltiness in your mouth. and it is intoxicating. You feel completed. You have never felt this full before. You miss this. He kisses you passionately, you can feel how his emotions played him. You can feel his desperation and loneliness in his touches.

The pain has subdued and you experimentally clench your walls. Taehyung hisses and grips your thighs painfully. “Stop it, or I am not going to last.” He begins to pump himself into you rhythmically. Hitting the spot when you can see stars. The only thing you can feel now is a pleasure and how he somehow completes you. You know that he feels it too, and you hope this pleasure can help him to forget. He pulls your thighs upwards and holds your ass.

His thrusts become sloppy as his cock begins pulsing. His orgasm is approaching, you can feel it. You can feel the knot forming too and your walls throb, you are on the verge of cumming again. Taehyung then moves one of his hands to your clit, rubbing it quickly. And once again your orgasm snaps. with you triggering Taehyung’s release, your walls milking him for everything he’s worth. Taehyung follows you afterward. He then falls on you trying to catch his breath.

You feel how Taehyung is softening inside and he pulls out of you, which makes you whine because of the sudden emptiness. He removes the condom filled with his seed and ties it into a knot and throws it on the trash can. He let his body fall on your side.

You look at his tired face, his forehead beaded with sweat, and how his lips are opened slightly, gasping for breaths. His eyes glistening with tears, filled with his emotion. You then gather your courage to cup his cheek, smoothing the skin. “Are you alright now? How do you feel?”

He looks at you softly. Your heart aches. He then swipes your fallen tears on your cheek with his thumb. “How do you feel?” He whispers. His hand stays on your face, giving you the warmth that you’ve always wanted.

There is only silence formed between you two. As you two are facing each other, you both still can see the pain inside your eyes. You both are fully naked, but you feel more exposed than before. You feel vulnerable and weak. And the longer you look into each other’s eyes, you both know that you two will be alright. You have to be alright.

Taglist: @gee-nee

Taglist still open!

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chayacat · 4 years

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Devil’s Sweet Star (1)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut

***

Finally. After months and months of searching for a suitable space, you have found it. Even if it means leave Indiana. After all, you no longer have anything to hold you back there and a change of landscape will do the greatest good. You’ve moved to Roseville, Ohio in order to open your own coffee shop and found locals curious but welcoming to you. Your new apartment, big enough for a couple is certainly simple but with all the decorations you have in your boxes, you will make it as comfortable and warm as you can. You get your apartment keys from James Lawson your landlord, an adorable old man who lives with his wife for forty years.

He warned you about the hot water system that was shared among all residents, so keep it in mind if you don’t want to have some complaint from them. Rent is reasonable and if you have any problem or just want to talk, you just have to knock on his door.

“One last thing young girl! Be careful outside! With these little hooligans, filthy little scoundrels who give no respect for their elders, smoking their bullshit drugs and...” he said becoming grumpier before his wife puts his hand on his shoulder

“Calm down my dear...think of your heart. But I agree and that’s not the worst. Robbery and aggressions happen often if they saw you weak or alone. Just for...Fun as they said. It's really worrying to see such a thing when they could do something better for everyone.” She said.

“No worries! If someone try to piss me off, I'll just kick his ass! It’s not the first time and I know it wouldn’t be the last. As my father said: hit a man where it hurts! But thanks for warning me anyway. You answer with that smile of yours before going to your car get your boxes.

It was exhausting and you sigh in relief when you put the last box on the ground to close the door behind you. After two hours of household and storage with some music to give you motivation, you decide to go out to take care of what will soon be your coffee shop. Located two blocks away, the old building, once a diner, was bigger than you thought. Fortunately, the companies you hired to do work have finished the day before, all that remains is to place the material and decorations, tables and chairs and wait for the delivery of coffee.

“Damn it’s much bigger than I expected. But that’s not bad after all! Still...I have to find a name. Not always the easiest part. The Nebula? Galaxia? Sugar Star?” you said tilting your head thinking of many names as you enter into the shop.

Everything was as you imagine. From walls to the smallest decorations, everything, without overloading, reminded space. Pleasant, relaxing, a real place to escape after a busy and stressful day while drinking a good coffee and devouring a slice of pie or other pastry. You start to organise everything, placing seats, tables and chairs to maximize space allowing future customers to move freely without getting in the way. Suddenly you hear someone knocking on the door and when you turn to see who it is, you notice a woman, in her forties, wearing an apron adorned with flowers that stood in front of the entrance.

“Wow...I didn’t think this place would change that much. and I love it! Much more than Joe's old dinner. I assume you're the new owner? I’m Lindsey Parson, I own the flower shop” she said with a bright smile offering her hand.

“Yes ma’am! Nice to meet you!” you answer as you introduced yourself shaking her hand.

“I hope you’ll enjoy Roseville. And that your business will succeed. When do you think you're going to open it?

“Oh...Well if all goes well, I think I could welcome my first customers on Wednesday! I just have to...find a name.”

“It's always the hardest thing to do when you open a business. I’m sure you’ll find it. And if you want, I can talk about your coffee to my friends. They’ll be delighted to go in a new place to share some news over a good coffee or tea.

“Thanks a lot! that’s really nice of you! I think I’ll be happy to live here than in Indiana.”

“If he’s not decided to make you his prey...” whispered Lindsey turning her face outside slightly worried.

You tilted you head at her words. His prey? Who? Who is she talking about? She breathes deeply and turn her face again to you with a little smile like she doesn’t want to scare you. Not when you’ve just arrived here.

“You know I'm not afraid about some weirdo punk or pervert bastard. If someone looks for troubles, I’ll kick them where it hurts: nuts or ass they’ll choose.” you reply by shrugging your shoulders.

“You’ve got guts, but it won't stop Ghostface from killing you if he decided to make you his next victim. Since many months, he killed many persons and no one know who is he. He’s a real shadow, stalking you and waiting for the perfect moment to hit his victim. Even if you’re not afraid, you should be careful, because he will not give you time or opportunity to defend yourself or run away.” said Lindsey.

“Great. I always move in at the right moment. Well, I guess I'm cursed or something.” you say with a sigh. “Cops have no leads to find him? he must have left traces, clues! no crimes and criminals are perfect. Except in thrillers.”

“He’s not called Ghostface for nothing girl. With him It’s like you try to catch the air in your hand, he plays and makes fun of the cops. He humiliates them and it pissed them off. So please, take care of yourself. and If you see something weird call the cops immediately. Well, I’m going back to my shop. See you around! And good luck!”

She waves her hand, and you wave back at her before she leaves. A few minutes later, you leave the coffee shop making sure all the doors are closed. Since coffee delivery doesn't arrive until tomorrow morning, you have the rest of the day and tomorrow to find a name. the hardest is yet to come. You make your way at home and once you arrive, you park and read the newspaper you bought on the road. After what you’ve heard from Lindsey, you better know more about that Ghostface guy. If cops don’t have any clues about him, the journalist who made the article on the other hand, named Jed Olsen, seems to make a real investigation work.

It's real impressive to see how many details he wrote about the last murder and the victim, a young man named Travis Maloney. Maybe he’s an experienced journalist, working for 25 years, in the fifties, dressed surely with old suspender pants, a slightly mis tied tie, dual focus glasses and an onset of baldness. And also, some smell of tobacco that smokes your nostrils. Imagine all this makes you wince, hope you will never deal with this guy, you will be good at disinfecting the whole apartment after. Once in the building you go to your mailbox to pick up the mail you have transferred as well as some advertisements. As you reach your home, you turned the corner and lost in your throughs you met with someone’s nose.

“Ouch...damn It hurts. I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention. Are you okay? “you start to say before raising your head to your unfortunate interlocutor.

Then you freeze. He was a little taller than you, his coppery blond hair almost approaching red, slightly wavy, came to the shoulders to fits his thin face. He was wearing a black shirt covered by a khaki jacket, black pants and shiny brown dress shoes. But what attracted you the most was his piercing blue eyes hidden behind thin rectangular glasses. He’s handsome, even if he looks like a nerdy boy. He groaned a little as he rubbed his nose before looking at you.

“Well...at least I can say it’s a way to say hello. I'm fine my nose is not fallen so...you can breathe you need more strength to broke it.” He laughed putting his glasses back in place. “What about you?”

“I’m okay, my brain still okay...even if sometimes I should use it more often to avoid something like this.” You answer with a nervous laugh as you introduced yourself. “You sure everything is okay? I didn’t break your glasses or anything?!”

“No worries really.” He assured with an angelic smile. Damn he looks like an angel. “Anyways, I have to change them sooner or later so...it’s doesn’t matter. Nice to meet you, I'm Jed Olsen, it’s seems like you’re my new neighbour, I live the door right next to you.”

You froze again. Okay. Do you remember what you thought before about him? Forget it. Jed Olsen is not an old man that stinks of tobacco but that handsome nerdy boy right in front of you. More he is your neighbour. You mentally slap yourself to have disfigured him in this way.

“Jed? I don’t want to be rude but you look very young to carry a name too ... Old. When I hear that name, I feel like we're talking about someone who has fifty / sixty years old...No offence.” You reply a little embarrassed.

“Let’s just say my parents considered me as a mistake. Maybe that’s why they gave me this old name. To remind me that I was not wanted” said Jed.

“Sorry. But at least they wrong! Look at you! You pull off the nerd look very well! If all the nerds, and more all men were physically like you, this would-be paradise on Earth!”

Oh Shit...did you just say this out loud? Yes, you do, and you mentally slap yourself again to say that JUST in front of him. Jed’s eyes blinked for several seconds, a little surprised about what you say before giving you a little smile scratching the back of his head.

“Well, I got to go! I still have storage to do in the apartment and I have to think about two, three little things! You laughed awkwardly “H-have a nice day! See ya !”

You walk fast to your home door, quickly open and close it after entering inside. You facepalm yourself many times, cursed you in all languages.

“Good job, pickle brain! For a first good impression It’s a failure. He's going to think I'm an idiot and pervert as a bonus. What did is done anyway...I should focus on the coffee for now. I will find a way to apologize to him later. But first a shower is welcomed! I smell like a camel...and I'm being polite.”

You spend the rest of the day thinking about the name of your pastries, in harmony with the theme of the coffee as well as the very name of the coffee shop. If it was easy enough for the first one, you come out empty-handed in your name search for your shop. As Lindsey says, it's not the easier part. And she's right.

***

(Well, this is the first time I write a fiction and especially an English fiction because I’m a French potato x) Sorry if my English causes headaches XD Do not hesitate to tell me what you think, I take all positive/negative/neutral opinions! This will allow me to improve my writing talent which is at the same level as my talent in drawing (0/20 in fact XD) if you want a better view of Danny aka Jed Olsen, check out @arkkosun ‘s page who allowed me to use his/her version of our Danny boy! i thank him/her again by the way! So as promised @arkkosun @sleepydaydreamz and @horror-ink here’s my first chapter! And i hope not the last 0.0″)

#dbd #dbd fanfic #dead by daylight #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

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vivpurple7 · 4 years

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Poison In The Dark |1| Pure

Pairing: BTS OT7 x reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: mafia au, 1K

Summary: You can’t run from your past, no matter how hard you try. The shadows are scary, but why does it feel so much like home?

Warnings for series: poly, mafia, blood, guns, violence, fighting, swearing, illicit and legal drug mentions, weapons, arson, near death, torture, smut (eventual and mentions/implied)

Masterlist |Next

A/N: New fic new fic!!! I'm super super excited about this one. I wanted to incorporate my love for my job (pharmacist) + mafia au + BTS. Feedback is appreciated! I welcome reblogs, comments, asks with open arms!!! If there are people interested, I can start a taglist too!

“And remember Mrs. Song, no milk in that morning coffee for 7 days while you’re on this antibiotic!” you give the granny a warm smile as you wave her goodbye, wishing her quick recovery back to health. You hear the chime of the bell above the door and the soft thud of the door closing as Mrs. Song shuffles out of your pharmacy. You’re 10 minutes to closing, and you’re already thinking about that bubble bath you’re going to draw up when you get home. It’s close to 10pm and the night has started to set in outside. Humming a tune that comes to your mind, you begin prepping your closing duties, putting away stock bottles and organizing some of the paperwork when you hear the ever familiar chime of your door go off.

“Welcome! What can I do for you? I’m closing soon, so I might be able to-“ you turn to the customer with your signature work smile to be met with the barrel of a gun aimed right between your eyes. You couldn’t make out anything about the intruder, wearing all black and covering his face with a black ski mask. He makes a little motion with his gun, telling you to get out behind your protective counter that’s separating you and him. Slowly shuffling over ever so slowly, you make your way out of safety and into danger. The moment you’re in reach, he grabs you roughly and handcuffs your hands behind your back. At this point, you know better than to struggle so you stand still, wishing for this to end quickly. You feel the cold blunt metal at the back of your head, and you gulp.

“Where.” The intruder speaks with a low gravelly voice. “I-if you want the m-money i-it’s in the c-cash register…” stammering, you close your eyes as you feel a cold sweat take over your body, now pumping full of adrenaline. “Dumb bitch, did you not hear me? Where. Is. It” growling, you can sense the intruder’s impatience as he jabs his gun harder into your head. “The narcotics are in the safe! I don’t know what else you want!” You’re close to tears as you frantically shout out all the possible things a burglar would want from a pharmacy. He signs gruffly before you hear him shuffling around, then the sound of a dial tone. “Yo, she ain’t giving me what we want. Whaddya wanna do about it, sir?”

The chime makes both of you turn your heads to the front door. Two guys stroll into the shop, looking comically shocked at the scene before them. You look at them, pleadingly, hoping they get the hint to go away and call for help.

“Can’t you guys ever keep your noses where they belong?” The bad guy sneers at the two newcomers.

The one of the left was wearing a dark grey suit, impeccably dressed from head to toe, topped with a blond do, while the red-haired man on the right was smiling, a little too energetically, wearing loose-fitted clothing with slippers. Suit guy shrugs before looking at his partner. “Well, we didn’t want an innocent being wrapped up in some dumbass getting the names of the fucking pharmacy mixed up.” Redhead chuckles as the taunt works up the man still holding a gun to your head. “What did you just fucking say?” At this point you’re kneeling on the ground, trying to look as small as possible, thinking of the possible ways to get yourself out of this sticky situation. You heart drops and stops beating at the sound of a gun safety going off.

“Yo, chill bro. The bitch you’re looking for works down the block. In the pharmacy called Pier Pharmacy. P-I-E-R.” He points one of the logos in your store. “This shit is P-U-R-E Pharmacy. Dumbass.” The next second the air is filled with grunts and more crass remarks as they end up fighting each other. You quickly crawl back behind the counter, frantically looking for your phone when the sudden silence emphasizes the gargle of a man desperately trying to breathe and failing. A moment later, silence. “Yo, lady, you can get out now. We’re not gonna hurt you like this dumb bastard.” his voice is full of mirth as he calls out. Unbeknownst to you, you manage to stand up and see Suit guy and Redhead standing where you saw them, unscathed. Your eyes trail down to where Redhead is still holding the intruder by a thick string around the neck, body limp. And then you black out.

“I got her.” Jimin quickly runs over to the pharmacist as he notices her swaying and eyes rolling backwards. He catches her in time and gently lays her down on the floor. The cackle of the intercom going off catches Taehyung’s attention. “V, checking in.”

“Hope-ah, the chick is fine, but she fainted. You?”

“Oh shit. We’re running out of time, bring her with you. We got the actual chick too. Boss said to meet up at the base.”

“Roger.” Taehyung shrugs his shoulders as he looks at the less-than-amused expression of his partner. “What. You heard what Boss said. I got my hands full with this one” chuckling darkly, he begins dragging the body towards the door. Jimin sighs before muttering an apology under his breath to a person who can’t register anything at the moment. He picks up the girl princess-style and follows Taehyung out of the store. He rummages around in your lab coat pocket and finds a key he hopes locks the door. “Ya, M, hurry the fuck up bro!” Taehyung just finished shoving his body into the trunk of the car and is running to get the car started. Sirens are heard ringing harshly in the quiet night, getting louder and louder as each moment passes on. Jimin grunts in response as he locks up the door and rushes to get you into the back seat. He gently places your head on his lap before Taehyung is flooring the gas petal with an excited cheer.

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scraregenrecs · 4 years

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SC Season 7 Fest rareships/gen roundup!

We were so excited to see how many rare and gen fics and works there were in @scseason7 -- a significant increase from previous fests! We've compiled a list of the fics that featured predominantly, or solely featured rare and gen ships and characters. There are a few fics listed below that also include David/Patrick, but we felt that these works equally or more so showcased lesser-seen ships and characters.

Happy reading!

Alexis Rose’s Guide to Finding Yourself in Five Easy Steps by wrathofthestag, Alexis-centric, T, 3663 words Summary: Can Alexis find her New York self? According to a magazine article, she can do it in five easy steps—but does she already have the key to what she’s looking for? A little bit of introspective Alexis.

all i need is to see your face by huddlers-and-hiddlers, Alexis/Twyla, Gen, 1535 words Summary: Alexis has doubts. Twyla knows how to soothe them.

[art] Asbestos Fest (Week) 2019 by sspaz1000, Schitt’s Creek Ensemble Summary: After the success of Singles Week Jocelyn decides to make Asbestos Fest a weeklong celebration of the town.

Assistant Direction by bigficenergy, Stevie & Moira, Stevie/Ruth, T, 2378 words Summary: Stevie's lazy morning with Ruth is interrupted by repeated phone calls from Moira, who is nervous about her first day of filming the Sunrise Bay reboot and simply must talk to Stevie.

Baby, Gotta Say It by middyblue (daisyblane), Stevie/Alexis, E, 15,980 words Summary: Several months after they hooked up at the wedding, Stevie and Alexis go for a drive.

Business/Casual by treepyful(treeperson), Stevie/Ruth, M, 8968 words Summary: “I’m afraid we only have the one room left, Ms. Budd, and it’s a single queen.”

Common Ground by moirarosesroses, Patrick & Ronnie, Gen, 2267 words Summary: Ronnie heads to Rose Apothecary looking for relief from the flu, but David's kind gesture suddenly falls to Patrick.

Don’t worry, it’s his sister by cromarty, Alexis/Twyla, David/patrick, G, 1854 words Summary: “So, you’ll obviously be getting real save the dates as soon as we get them back from the printer but you are officially invited to our wedding on September 3rd!”

“WHAT?!” David yelps.

“Oh, David, must you be so loud? What could possibly be wrong with the date, you’re not even traveling, and you can close your little store whenever you and Patrick choose!” Moira says over the sound of Stevie snickering.

“That’s my anniversary!” David says, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

Five Stars by sonlali, Ray/OC, Gen, 1905 words Summary: Ray visits a coffee shop in Elm Valley to expand his clientele base and ends up meeting someone new.

Flood, Flounder, Flourish by treepyful (treeperson), Patrick & Ray, Gen, 5042 words Summary: When a pipe had burst and flooded Ray’s house earlier in the week, Patrick had known immediately what he had to do.

in calm or stormy weather by singsongsung and sonlali, Alexis & Patrick, David & Twyla, Alexis/Twyla, David/Patrick, T, 4441 words Summary: On National Siblings Day, Alexis spends the day with her favorite brother Patrick, and David bonds with Twyla.

David: Why are you at our house, Alexis? Alexis: because i have a whole day planned for us david!! David: Why? Alexis: because it’s NATIONAL SIBLINGS DAY!

[Script] “Family Reunion” by Five678patty and pants (smarty_pants), Gen, T, 5253 words Summary: S07E14 Synopsis. There’s something familiar about David and Patrick’s new employee and nothing familiar about the new Café Tropical. Moira has acquired a stalker who follows her to town.

The Honeymoon by alldaydream, Rose Family, T, 11,333 words Summary: Just as David and Patrick are about to go on their honeymoon, a break in at the store ruins those plans and forces them to turn back around to Schitt's Creek. David handles it as well as you'd think. Meanwhile Alexis is in New York beginning her new job at Interflix with a slight snafu, Johnny is trying his best to influence future entrepreneurs, and Moira makes a new friend on set.

Many the Miles by doingthemost and singsongsung, Twyla/Alexis, T, 7996 words Summary: On the weekend Twyla is supposed to visit Alexis in NYC, Alexis gets a cold. Twyla goes anyway.

Mine Own Weak Merits by treepyful(treeperson), Stevie & Moira, Gen, 3644 words Summary: When her phone buzzed with a silent call for the third time in eight minutes, Stevie debated throwing it out her open window.

money, money, money (it’s a rich man’s world) by hullomoon, Stevie & Johnny, David & Johnny, Johnny/Moira, Gen, 2518 words Summary: When Stevie mentions hiring someone for the financials during a meeting, Johnny worries it'll be another Eli situation

The Moira Rose Story by wrathofthestag, Johnny/Moira, Gen, Art + 60 words Summary: It's the poster for the upcoming, and highly anticipated, Interflix movie The Moira Rose Story.

A New Dawn, A New Day by bibliopan, Mandy (the teenager David watched for Wendy) & friends, T, 16,383 words Summary: Mandy Greenhorn, former step-daughter of Wendy, gets her first job working at Rose Apothecary over the summer. She learns about customer service and more than she ever imagined!

No Place Like Home by moirarosesroses, Alexis & David, Alexis & Patrick, Gen, 2094 words Summary: Alexis adjusts to a new way of life in New York without her family or friends from Schitt's Creek.

Nothing Good Starts in a Getaway Car by dawndust, Patrick & Alexis with some side Patrick/David, T, 5619 words Summary: During a time of crisis, Patrick learns what it means to have David and Alexis as his family. *mind the tags on this one*

Rosebud Motel Group PR + Merch! By hullosweetpea, Gen, FANART Summary: PR and Merch designs for the Rosebud Motel Group [Art]

[art] The Roses Reunited by frizzlenox, The Rose Family, Not Rated Summary: The Rose family poses for a portrait at the Emmys when Moira is nominated for Sunrise Bay.

a sense of expectation hanging in the air by hullomoon, Stevie/Ruth (main), Alexis/Twyla (background), with other friendships, M, 6548 words Summary: Stevie starts to realize she has feelings for Ruth. How long though, will it take for her to tell Ruth that?

The Sniffles by awildone, Johnny/Moira, Johnny & Stevie, T, 2246 words Summary: Johnny Rose doesn't get sick, except for when he's in California, & they're not just allergies.

Street Lights, Big Dreams, All Lookin’ Pretty by doingthemost, Alexis/Twyla, David/Patrick, Stevie/Ruth mentioned, T, 11574 words Summary: Alexis and Twyla say they're just friends. But people who are "just friends" don't tickle each other's necks with their eyelashes – right? During one family vacation to New York, David and Patrick make a bet to answer this question and more. (David has a lot of feelings about being back in New York along the way, but that's not a big deal. We don't have to talk about that.)

They stare when you walk in the room (yeah, we’re lookin’ at heaven) by yellow_bird_on_richland, Alexis/Twyla, M, 9281 words Summary: [Alexis]’s not exactly surprised to find herself gravitating toward Twyla when more and more hopeful suitors approach her as the night goes on. Plus, Twy’s her guest. The horde of guys hitting on her? They’re so not invited back to her place. It’s then that she realizes. She doesn’t just wanna take Twyla Sands home. Like all the boys surrounding them, she wants to take Twyla Sands home.

Third Annual Schitt’s Creek Singles Week by lastchancecafe, Ray/OC, David/Patrick, Alexis/Twyla, G, 2653 words Summary: Patrick had watched Ray go on plenty of first dates over the years. He approached them with the same enthusiasm he gave a new business venture. Patrick can remember sitting next to Ray on the floral couch in his early days with David. The three of them enjoying Rom-Coms and ice cream. Ray and David had ranked the grand gesture scenes each time. Patrick recognized the unnamed longing and been happy to fill the role for David. He’d never stopped to think that his boss/landlord turned friend was still looking for someone to do the same. ----- Love is in the air at the Third Annual Schitt's Creek Singles Week-will Ray finally be lucky in love?

Worth Fighting For by steviebowles, David & Stevie, T, 4706 words Summary: David and Stevie have the biggest fight of their friendship. Neither of them is used to having a best friend, and they don't know how to fix it or cope. Patrick and Twyla help out.

#schitt's creek fic #sc fic recs #sc fic rec #schitt's creek fanfiction #sc season 7 prompt fest

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dameronology · 4 years

Text

london calling {poe x reader} - 1

a modern coffee shop au

in this chapter: you could have sworn that london was trying to eat you alive. you didn’t ask the universe for a reason to stay in the city but it gave you one anyway - in the form of poe dameron, your new manager.

warnings: swearing

this was based off of a dream i had & then @cherieboba mentioned an AU...and now we have this. enjoy!

- val xx

‘Will you watch where you’re fucking going?!’

You hated Tuesdays. Tuesdays were truly and completely awful in every sense of the word. They were slightly better than Mondays but still...undeniably dreadful. This one had been no exception. You’d woken up late (and hungover, but that wasn’t relevant) and you were convinced that the Department of Transport had personally paid every single commuter to make your life a living hell that morning. Whatever patience you’d had upon waking up - and trust me, it wasn’t much - had worn completely thin by the time you’d been released from the hellish grips of the London Underground.

Your main concern was getting to work on time. The start of your shift coincided perfectly with the morning rush - also known as two straight hours of grumpy, uncaffeinated commuters. It was your job as a barista to provide them with coffee and to do-so in a timely manner. Anything less than thirty seconds would often result in a middle-aged, greying businessman coming for your ass. This morning, you were prepared to bite back.

‘How nice of you to show up.’

‘I know, I know!’ You pushed past your co-worker, tugging your apron around your waist as you did. ‘I overslept,’

Finn rolled his eyes at you, shaking his head. ‘Then you owe me five pounds.’

‘Why?’ You grumbled, pulling an order receipt from his hand.

‘The bet, remember?’ He replied. ‘You have officially been late twenty times so far this year.’

You let out a groan, mind going back to New Year’s Eve. The pair of you had made a deal that whoever was the first to be late twenty times owed the other a fiver - and it looked like you would be paying for his lunch today. It was unusual for you to be late so many times in a row but in the absence of a manager or acting boss, you’d let yourself slip a tiny bit. You knew that had to end today, however, because your new manager was due to start.

‘I’ll give it to you when I get paid.’ You said. ‘My rent is already late and that five pounds could be detrimental-’

‘- I’m just taking the piss.’ Finn chuckled. ‘Get these orders done and we’re even.’

He slid you the pile of receipts and you immediately slipped into autopilot. You’d been a barista for the better part of five years by that point; your hands could be at work whilst your mind was elsewhere. That was certainly the case today - your mind was raking through your financial woes and the fact that your rent was due four days ago - as you worked. After fifteen minutes of here’s a small skinny latte for Brian! and a large Americano to go for Roger!, you’d completely ridded the shop of the queue.

‘Busy morning, huh?’

You peered up from the coffee machine, eyes falling on the man in front of you. He was holding a half-empty cup of coffee, a smile on his face and warm brown eyes examining the mess of coffee and milk around your work station. He had a tangle of messy curls and...well, hot fucking damn. What else were you supposed to say?

‘Uh, yeah.’ You smiled. ‘Highlight of my day, I suppose.’

He grinned at you. ‘Do you enjoy working here?’

‘Yeah.’ You nodded. ‘I mean - it gets stressful but a job’s a job, right?’

‘Right.’ He replied, eyes falling to where your name tag rested on your apron. ‘I’ll see you around.’

Trying to hide the blush on your face, you picked up the empty milk cartons and carried them through to the kitchen at the back of the shop. Finn was already in there on his phone, swiping through Tinder. Your best friend’s love life was often a subject that came up on shift - as far you were concerned, he deserved the world. It was finding the world that was the hard part.

‘Hot customer alert.’ You greeted him. ‘And I mean hot.’

‘What kind of cute are we talking?’ Finn looked up from his phone. ‘Like...Leo Dicaprio in Titanic cute kind of hot or Leo Dicaprio in the Revenant, large and hairy kind of hot?’

‘Kind of in the middle.’ You replied, dumping the cartons in the bin. ‘He said he would see me around, so I guess he’s a new regular?’

‘Actually,’ somebody else’s voice came from the doorway. ‘I meant see you around as in I’m the new manager.’

You had never wanted the ground to swallow you more. Seriously - if the jaws of death could have opened right there and then, you’d be willing to jump into them with the tip of your hat and a so long, folks! This was definitely the worst Tuesday of your life. That was truly saying something, because you’d spent all of last Tuesday scraping dried milk off of a table. And, the Tuesday before that, you’d got stuck in the doors of the tube on the Jubilee Line and then -

-Not relevant. The presence of other shitty days didn’t erase the fact that you had just called your manager hot and compared him to Leonardo Dicaprio. Right to his face.

‘Hey, Finn?’ You glanced up at your co-worker. ‘I think it’s time I quit-’

‘- no, I take it as a compliment!’ He chortled. ‘I’m Poe, Poe Dameron. You’re the assistant manager, right?’

‘Yeah.’ You nodded, trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks. ‘Unless you fire me.’

‘No, I like a colleague who bigs me up.’ Poe grinned at you. It only made the blush worse. ‘It’s a nice store. I’m excited to work here.’

‘And I assume you know how to make coffee?’ You quirked an eyebrow at him.

‘I could do it in my sleep.’

You handed him an apron. ‘Brilliant.’

It seemed as though whoever was above had answered your prayers, because another queue quickly began to form and you had to get back to work. Poe and Finn chatted amongst themselves, bonding over the fact that they were both Americans working in London. You, meanwhile, focused on pumping out oddly specific coffee orders.

‘A hot-but-not-too-hot black Americano for Holdo!’ You called.

Mrs Holdo - or, Holdo as she insisted on being called - was one of your regulars. She was a high powered business woman who stopped by the coffee every morning. It was usually one of the highlights of working the morning shift. You were convinced she was on steroids of some point because she was the literal definition of a power bitch. The fact she dyed her hair lavender made her even more iconic.

‘Morning!’ You beamed at her, sliding her drink across the counter. ‘How are things at the law firm?’

‘Stressful, as always.’ She grabbed the cup. ‘New manager, I see?’

‘Oh, yeah.’ You glanced over your shoulder at him. ‘That’s Poe.’

‘You talkin’ shit?’ He grinned at you, giving you a wink.

Once the queue had died down again, you made yourself a coffee. A few people were fluttering about the shop; it was the usual, really. There was a businessman on his laptop at one table and an artist at the next. One of the perks of working in such a central area was all the people you got to meet. It certainly made the job more interesting - and you had a feeling that your new manager was only going to add to that.

‘So - tell me about yourself.’ Poe leant against the counter next to you, nudging you with his elbow. ‘Other than the fact you think I’m hot and that you probably love Leonardo Dicaprio.’

You let out a groan. ‘You’re killing me, man.’

‘If that’s the case, I hope you get someone to cover your shifts before you die.’

‘Isn’t that your job?’ You shot back. ‘Being the manager and all.’

‘You are my assistant manager-’

‘- no I am the assistant manager.’ You cut him off. ‘And I’ve been here five years so I know all that you could possibly need about running this place.’

‘Mm?’ Poe raised his eyebrows. ‘Care to share?’

‘Finn can’t be on shift with Hux - he’s an irritating part timer, really up himself - because they will kill each other.’ You paused to take a sip of your coffee. ‘And Kaydel is super sweet but she’s always late, so it’s best to put her on afternoon shifts.’

‘Like you were late this morning?’

You groaned again. ‘It was just one of those mornings - it was one thing after the other. I swear it won’t happen again.

Poe gave you a soft smile, the sarcasm fading from his face. ‘I’m just kidding. Don’t be so hard on yourself.’

With that, he took the coffee from your hand and took a sip. ‘Jesus Christ, what is in this?’

‘Four shots of vanilla syrup.’ You snatched your drink back from him. ‘Let me guess - you’re the kind of guy that exclusively drinks espressos and judges people for adding sugar?’

He simply raised his eyebrows, holding his hands up in defense.

Nine hours later, your shift was finally over; you were closing with Poe, who was currently sweeping the floor and singing I Want To Break Free. Your feet were aching but thanks to the free coffee, you were slightly buzzed. You’d decided that you liked your new manager - there were some pitfalls, however. Watching him flirt with every woman that came in was bordering on painful by the time lunchtime came around.

‘Rey’s here!’ Finn popped up from behind the coffee machine. He was supposed to be cleaning it, but it looked as though he was counting coffee beans instead. ‘Do I look okay?’

‘No different than usual, Finny.’ You replied.

Rey was your room-mate and best friend (Finn would argue differently). She worked in a primary school a few streets away from the coffee shop. She usually came in after you’d shut to get a free drink - she also drove to work, which meant you didn’t have to take public transport home. After a nine hour shift and with an impending caffeine crash, being shoved into a small tube carriage was your idea of hell. With that said, Rey’s driving wasn’t much better.

Fiddling with your keys, you unlocked the door to let Rey in. She looked tired - presumably from chasing after little children all day. You could see a bottle of wine sticking out from the top of her bag. That was this evening’s plans solved.

‘Hey!’ She greeted you brightly. ‘Hey, Finn!’

‘Rey, hey!’ Your co-worker waved at her. ‘I mean hey, rey!’

‘I’m just gonna clock out.’ You said, glancing over your shoulder at Poe. ‘If that’s cool with you?’

‘God knows, god knows I want to break - oh yeah, that’s fine!’ He suddenly pulled his headphones out.

‘This is Rey, by the way. She’s an honorary team member here.’ You explained. ‘And this is Poe, our new manager.’

‘She thinks I’m cute.’ Poe grinned.

You turned to face Rey. ‘I’ll explain later.’

‘Right. Of course.’ She gave you a wink. ‘I went home at lunch to feed Chewy. He’s eaten another pair of your shoes.’

Chewie was your six-month-old border terrier puppy. He reeked havoc pretty much everywhere he went - usually leaving a trail of fur behind him - but you loved him dearly. He’d earned his name after eating through eleven pairs of shoes in his first week at your apartment.

‘Of course he has.’ You grumbled. ‘See you tomorrow!’

‘See you!’ Finn waved at you, before giving Rey a sweet smile.

‘See you in the morning!’ Poe called. ‘And be on time!’

tags: @thespareoom @softly-sad @interwebseriesfan24 @yougottakeeponkeepinon @princessxkenobi @blue-space-porgs @cherieboba @highlycommendable

#poe dameron x reader #poe x reader #poe x you #poe dameron x you #poe dameron imagine #poe imagine #star wars x reader #star wars fan fiction #star wars preferences

89 notes · View notes

peachyunjinnie · 5 years

Text

❝The New Toy❞ hhj ― m.

― summary:

y/n is frustrated because she lost her job, her best friend jeongin helps her and organizes a job interview with the ceo of the biggest marketing company. mr. hwang gets a lot of interest in you and ends up introducing you into the company and then later on introduce you into his playroom.

hyunjin/female reader | ceo!hyunjin | suggestive | 1.5k ↬ content warnings: bdsm, breath play, fingering

a/n: yes this was a request that I kinda expected and so this is the first part (introduction), and in some days there will be a second part with the smut stuff. I would love to make a series/au out of this

→ blogs masterlist

→ The New Toy Pt. II

“Come on, Y/N. You can give it a try. This job could make all of your financial problems go away. You need this, please at least go to the interview.” My best friend Jeongin said.

Homeless and jobless. The situation of my life at this point is completely fucked up. About 2 weeks ago my life was like every other: student, a part-time job at a café and with no worry at all. But since my father died, the income was 0. My school was not paid so I dropped out and the life I had was a 180. About 2 days I couldn’t afford the rent and here I am homeless and living with my best friend Innie.

“I can’t, this company is nothing for me. So why even try?” My voice shaking and close to tears.

“He really doesn’t have a good reputation, but I tried hard to talk to my brother and he is open to get you this job as his first secretary.

“I appreciate your support about this but Hwang Hyunjin the boss, CEO and biggest asshole of whole Busan. I can’t take this one job.”

“Why? It’s just a job, an answer and an opportunity for you. A big opportunity!” he whined.

With a deep sigh, I rethought everything and nodded slowly.

After a long day of getting myself ready and praying it wouldn’t be that bad. A black pencil skirt and a white blouse, my hair in a ponytail, and a little touch of makeup.

“Mr. Hwang is now ready to meet you, follow me.” A young and very beautiful woman, probably in her mid-20s. She was very serious and looked intimidating. If this is the kind of person they are looking for I couldn’t make it in this job.

I stumbled after the lady and made my way to the big office. Behind this door will be an opportunity, an answer may be the answer to all the problems. The young woman opened the door and there he was, the boss of the company, the CEO of the biggest marketing agency. Hwang Hyunjin. In his early 20s the heir of Sir. Hwang who died in a fatal and tragic heart attack, about 2 years ago.

His aura gave sent shivers down my spine and made the hair of my body stand straight up. The secretary left me alone, helpless and scared of how intimidating a young male could be.

“Please come in, Miss Y/N” he said his voice soothingly deep. Raspy and soft at the same time.

I walked in and closed the door. While doing so I say a little prayer that this will be ending soon.

“Have a seat, Miss.” His hand gesturing at the seat in front of him and then I scanned the whole room, from the big windows that covered the wall which showed the skyline of Busan. To the big black office desk. The room is kept in black and white, very fancy and serious.

“ So my brother told me you wanted a job here, tell me a little about yourself. What qualifications do you have?” His gaze hypnotizing me into a trance. His big brown eyes digging into my eyes, looking straight in my soul. I couldn’t answer but after a little while, I stuttered.

“I am organized and can take responsibility. I can work a lot and more than other people and I can keep private life from business. I am honest and straightforward. I-I can work good with people and know how to calm angry/ rude customers.”

“Okay good and how about your private life?” He stood up from his black chair and walked forward to the edge of the desk in front of me. His crotch was dangerously close to my face. He took my breath away and I answered quickly.

“What do you want to know, Sir?” I asked quietly.

“Are you in a relationship?” His head tilting to the right exposing jawline, I didn’t dare to look at him. Kept my eyes on the ground. It can’t be possible to be that intimidated from someone; well you haven’t met Sir Hwang yet.

“N-No, Sir.”

“Good and how about your experience of working?”

“I only worked at a coffee shop as an employee. I am used to working for more than 8 hours a day.”

“Would the job of personal assistant be something for you?” His eyes scanning my whole body, from the hair to the stilettos I’m wearing. He clearly had a problem with my hair and leaned over.

His hands opening the clip and releasing my black hair. His face lighting up into a small but genuine smile.

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help myself.” He purred out.

“N-no pro-probl-em, Sir. And yes, the position o-of pers-personal assistant would be go-good…”

“Great, Great. I will see you on Monday, Miss Y/N.”

“Y/N is okay, I mean just Y/N. No Miss, Sir.”

“Well, then Y/N l will see you on Monday. 9AM, don’t be late.” His voice sharp and direct, but smooth like honey.

My hands shaking, seeing his hand move a strain of hair that was in my face. Effortlessly giving my skin a slight burn, where he accidentally touched my cheeks.

“I-I won’t be late, I-I promise.” I stuttered again, helpless and intimidated by his closure of my face. Goosebumps and uneasy breathing are the results of his intense gaze.

He took my hand and helped me stand up on my feet, which was a bad idea. Not only was he mentally messing me up, but he also gave my knees the feeling of jelly. My knees gave up on me and I quickly fell to the ground.

He took no second thought and helped me up on my feet again. How humiliating this is, I am not even working here but I fell in front of my future boss. I hid my face and quickly said goodbye while running away from Mr. Hwang.

My hair completely messy, my skirt wrinkled, and stilettos making a sound with every step. His signature smile appeared and with a little headshake, he sat on his seat again. He thought to himself.

“What a sub...”

“Sir, please. m-more.” A moan escaped my slightly parted lips. My eyes blindfolded and my core throbbing for friction. He continued to whip my sore ass, his actions getting harder. He whispered in my ear, his voice so deep and so close to me.

“You want more, huh? Beg for it. My little slut.” My heartbeat doubled and my hips automatically went up for another hit. His big and veiny hands held me steady as he pressed me down. He started something in me, a side of me I never thought existed. A wild side, an erotic adventure.

“Good Morning, Sir.” I said while knocking and coming into his office. The scent of Vanilla and Rum filled the air, his cologne was absolutely messing me up. My knees getting weak after seeing a little smile appear on his beautifully full lips. My imagination went through me and I didn’t realize him snapping his fingers in front of my eyes. His face way too near to mine.

“Vanilla…Rum…” I whispered.

“What?” He asked clearly amused with me being dumbfounded.

“Your cologne, I like it.” My voice breaking after that sentence, he played a game with me. And I was willing to play.

“So, you like it, Y/N?” He came even closer, inches away from my face, starring down on me like a prey ready to eat his dinner.

“Y-Yes, smells good. I like it. Me liking you.” Oh no… Here it was my Yoda state. For years this didn’t happen, ever since I had this crush in 7 grade. Oh lord Jesus christ make it go away. I prayed and prayed but he just continued to smirk at me, moisturizing his lips with his tongue. I could not look away, even if I tried my hardest...

“Tell me what is it about you? You completely fascinate me. The perfect sub, you always look down and never even dare to look into my eyes, you make yourself even smaller than you are when you’re around me. You can’t stop pressing your thighs together, signaling that you are needy. You didn’t even say one word when I opened your hair yesterday. So obedient, so willing... I don’t think I can control myself any longer.” he whispered so lightly and softly.

Caressing my cheek slowly while looking into my eyes deeply. His slender fingers softly caressing my cheek, looking into my eyes. Coming dangerously close to my face to the point where he closed his eyes. His face inches apart from mine, electric waves making their way all over my body. And what seemed like 5 seconds was in slow motion, after a whole eternity I felt his soft and plump lips on mine.

The kiss was hot and needy, it was very touchy. His hands roaming my body, his hands were everywhere on my chest, on my arms, on my neck, on my hips, everywhere. A hot feeling surrounding me with lust. I tugged at his hair and pulled him closer. He groaned loudly into my mouth, a low and raspy broken groan. He stopped the kiss and looked into my eyes.

“You will regret ever meeting the devil, angel.”

He smirked, taking my hand and getting me out of that office of his.

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harrystyleswatermelon-sugar · 4 years

Text

Café

I am late for my shift at the café I work at every Sunday morning. Somehow my alarm didn’t go off as planned and as I jump under the shower, I can feel how time goes by way too fast. I skip breakfast after I did a really quick make-up and blow-dried my hair. Due to no time, I just simply tug everything in a ponytail and jump into my work clothes. Black skinny jeans, Sneaker and a work blouse. As I am ready to leave, I grab my apron and an umbrella, due to the London weather.

Just in time, I arrive at the café and I am very thankful that the tube was on time today. Sometimes I have to wait so long, until it finally arrives and often it is so crowded that I barely fit in. Today I am lucky and as I enter my working place, my colleague grins at me.

“Hey, Y/N. Just in time” he says and I roll my eyes at him. I still have 2 minutes left!

“Hey, Matt. I´ll be right back, just taking my stuff to the back” I say and move in the back. I put my bag down, take my apron and check into the system. Matt is my co-worker, we usually work together. He is permanently employed and I only work Sunday mornings, because I have a normal day job. I am a foreign language correspondent and work for a big company during the week. Because I usually sit in the office, I wanted to find a balance, when I saw that this café was looking for a waitress.

“Here I am, how was your week?” I ask him and kiss his cheek. He smiles at me and nods.

“Pretty good so far and yours? Here take this purse, the other one broke the other day” he suggests as I go through the stuff in the cabinet, looking for the purse. I take it from his hand and fill it with money out of the cash register.

“Nothing special so far, let´s see what happens here today” I laugh and he nods. We always have a great time together and I honestly love this job. We have been working together now for almost three years and over time he became one of my best friends. I look around and only see a few customers sitting on the tables. It is early for a Sunday, so I guess they are all still sleeping. A young man enters the café and I smile at him.

“Hello, welcome,” I say friendly and he returns the smile.

“Good morning, having a good day so far?” he asks and I laugh a little.

“Very good, as it should be. How can I help you?” as I prepare his order, I feel him looking at me. I mean, yes he is cute but I don’t really know what to do. I hate myself sometimes for not being able to flirt properly.

“Here you go, that is £2, please,” I say and hand him his coffee. He gives me £5, winks at me and says his goodbye.

“Have a nice day, see you soon. I´m definitely coming back” he leaves and Matt sighs.

“And there goes another chance for a happy ending. Seriously, Y/N there are so many men hitting on you and no one is good enough for you? He was hot!” my friend says and I clean the barista equipment.

“He was cute, but you know what happened the last time I tried to flirt. He didn’t get it and it was so awkward,” I explain myself and Matt leans next to me on the counter.

“Yes, but that was one guy. What if your mister right walks in right-“ he stops and I wait for him to finish. I am facing the sink and as Matt is not finishing his sentence I turn around. He stares at the door, open mouth and a shocked expression on his face.

I follow his gaze with mine and see a tall man standing in the doorframe. He wears sunglasses, which is a bit odd, because it is a rainy day and looks around the café. He wears a long black coat and a hat. Some dark curls are peaking out of it and it looks as if he has a bit longer hair than usual. He is attractive and I see, why Matt is staring at him.

“Hey, Matt. You okay?” I ask him and wave my hand in front of his face. He shakes his head and looks at me.

“Pinch me. Y/N pinch me! I think Harry Styles just came in,” he says and I poke his side gently.

“Who?” I reply and smile at him, as his eyes widen in shock.

“Who? You´re asking who Harry Styles is? Seriously? Don’t you watch the news or read tabloids?” I shake my head. I really don’t.

“He is a member of the biggest boy band in the world and he is so hot and funny. Oh my god, how do I look?” he asks and tries to bring his hair in order. I laugh and pat his back.

“You look great, fangirl. Go get him, tiger. Wait, is he gay?” I ask and he shrugs his shoulders.

“No one really knows, he never confirmed or denied anything. But he will be gay, when he sees me,” he assures me and winks. I laugh and nod as he walks off. I take the time to actually google this guy and Matt is right, he is hot. He honestly looks a bit like prince Eric from the Disney movie Ariel. I see Matt coming back and take my tray, to ask the other three guests if they want anything else. I see some dirty dishes on the table next to this Harry and take them with me. I order the salt and pepper shaker, our menu and shoot a glance at the man. He took his hat off and his sunglasses are in his hair, as he fuddles on his phone. I clean the table and knock the tray off the table whilst staring. Shit.

I kneel down and grab the shattered glass, as Matt comes to my rescue with a broom.

“Darling, what are you doing. Take your hands away, don’t cut yourself please” he says and I raise my hands, not touching any more glass. He sweeps everything together, putting it in the bin and then looking at me.

“You clumsy girl. Never boring when you´re here” he laughs and I roll my eyes, grabbing the tray and getting up.

The young man is looking at me with piercing green eyes and smiles. I smile back and follow Matt back to the counter. We check my hands and find only a very tiny cut at my thumb. He insists on putting a band-aid on it and I let him do it. He wouldn’t shut up anyways.

The next three hours are unspectacular, we get a few more customers but it is not as packed as on other Sundays. I have time to clean the fridge and the counter properly, while Matt is serving the customers. Every time he goes to Harry's table, he is nervous and ever time afterwards he won´t shut up about his sparkling green eyes and his smile and dimples, which I haven’t even noticed when he smiled at me earlier.

“Matt, I am starting to think that I have a crush on him because you don’t stop talking about him,” I laugh and dry my hands.

“I can´t believe he is here, just look at him. He is art. I need to wee, don’t let him go” he demands and I chuckle, as he throws his apron on the counter. I fill some coffee beans in the machine and look around myself. The customers are all well taken care of but I see Harry looking at me. He raises his hand and I nod, grabbing my purse.

“Hello there,” I say as I approach him. He smirks and leans back in his chair, totally checking me out.

“I would like another coffee, if that’s alright?” he asks very politely and I am surprised. I thought he would be a bit arrogant but despite being very handsome and famous AND rich, he seems pretty normal and grounded.

“Sure, anything else? We have an amazing apple tart with glazed pecan nuts,” I suggest and he smiles. Now I can see those dimples.

“Great, I´ll take that. Thank you very much. I like this place, is it always this empty?” he asks and I scribble his order down.

“Oh usually it is a bit more crowded, today seems to be a lazy Sunday. Wouldn’t have left the house either, if I didn’t have to be here” I say and look at him. His dark brown curls frame his face and I meet his eyes.

“Well, I´m glad you are. Working every Sunday?” I nod and grin at him.

“Yes, usually it´s Matt and I,” I respond and shove my memo back in my pocket. I take a step closer to his table and lean forward, to grab his empty mug. His cologne is phenomenal, he smells so good. I can´t define the nuances but it is definitely something dry. I like it and it is surely expensive like his whole existence.

“Be right back” he nods at me and I bring his dishes behind the counter. Matt stares at me and I turn a light shade of red.

“He is glamorous, isn’t he?” he asks quietly and I giggle as I prepare the coffee.

“He is friendly and very attractive, you are right” I agree with his earlier statement.

“What did he ask?”

“Oh for gods sake, Matt. He is human like everyone else. Would you please stop fangirling? I have to serve a customer, who is not an alien!” I am really annoyed by his behaviour and maybe my voice is a bit too loud. I see Harry turning around and Matt frowns, leaving me alone. I sigh and grab the plate and coffee, putting it on the tray and walk towards Harry.

“Here we go, enjoy,”

“Thank you, is everything alright? You seem a bit upset” he asks and I raise an eyebrow at him, looking over my shoulder to see Matt walking towards another customer.

“He is absolutely in love with you and is just an annoying prick about it. I was a bit harsh on him, but he can be so annoying. You have no idea” I sigh and he grins.

“I get it, you don’t really care who I am and he is the opposite” I shake my head and put my hand on my hip.

“It´s not that I don’t care, I didn’t know you before he explained it to me, so…well yeah you´re just another customer. Which is nothing bad! I love my customers, but I don’t freak out because you are a musician” I explain myself and struggle a bit. I hope I didn’t offend him.

“That’s absolutely fine and I am happy to be seen as someone normal. I will offer him to take a picture with me before I leave…but you have to tell him, I´m not interested in men, very sorry” he winks at me and I laugh uncomfortable.

“I will send him here with your check. Have a good day” I wish to him and leave him alone. I meet Matt behind the counter and he ignores me.

“Look, I am sorry but your fangirling is really annoying. Here, he wants to have the check. It might be your last chance to talk to him, so I waive” he rolls his eyes at me and grabs the little piece of paper, to leave.

“We good?” I ask and he nods.

“Yeah, `m sorry too” we smile at one another and I watch him talk to Harry all flustered. I look at my watch and sigh happily. Only 30 minutes left of my shift.

Matt beams, as he comes back and I wonder what he had told him. Surely not, that he is not gay.

“He said he likes you. You took really good care of him, that’s why we shall share his huge tip” he shows me the tip and my eyes shoot to Harry. He smiles and I look down again. £60. He leaves us the biggest tip I have ever seen.

I mouth a thank you in his direction and he smirks. Right as our shift ends and our co-workers arrive, Harry gets up to leave.

“Have a nice one, see you next week” I say and get ready to leave.

“Y/N, wait a sec,” Matt asks me and I wait for him, as Harry approaches him.

“This young lady here told me, you are a fan of mine. Would you like a picture? I thought I´d ask because the service was great” Harry says and I smile, as he looks at me. Matt nearly faints as he nods and takes out his phone. His hands are shaking and he takes two selfies with Harry. Our co-workers are a bit older and don’t even know who Harry is. I can relate to that.

“Thank you so much, it was a pleasure meeting you. Never thought you are as nice as everybody says. Thank you so much” Matt rambles and I chuckle quietly.

“The pleasure was all mine. I will definitely come back soon” Harry assures and we three walk our way to the door. He pulls it open and lets me step outside in the rain. Luckily I have my umbrella in hand.

“See you soon,” Harry says and puts his head and glasses on, then waves and leaves. Matt is beaming, Harry made his day.

“Do you think he will come back?” he asks and I shrug my shoulders.

“How am I supposed to know?” we laugh and walk in the other direction as Harry.

A week later I am working again with Matt, as we see a familiar man with nearly shoulder-length hair and sunglasses approaching.

“Oh my god, he is back,” Matt whispers as Harry opens the door. He beams at us and I return the smile.

“Hello there, mind if I sit right here?” he asks and points to the counter.

“Good morning, of course not. Take a seat. Coffee?” I ask him and he nods. I make him his coffee and put it in front of him.

“There you go” I smile at him as he grabs the cup and our fingers touch.

“Y/N, 3 Cappuccino, I get the cake,” Matt says and grin to Harry. I prepare everything, heat the milk and foam it. I put the mugs on Matts tray and bump his hip, because he is staring at Harry.

“Thank you, Darling,” he says and leaves Harry and me alone.

“So your name is Y/N? I like it. How was your week?” he asks and I look at him. Is he just trying to make conversation or is he really interested?

“It was okay, had a lot to do at work but it´s okay. How was your week?” I return the question and put some mugs onto the shelf.

“It was great, I have some free time at the moment and I enjoy it very much…I was really looking forward coming here today,” he says and I am surprised. He was? I thought someone like him would have something better to do.

“Well Matt is happy about it, I guess” we both chuckle and he looks down on his phone, sipping some coffee. I work my normal routine, chatting to Harry when I have time and joking with Matt, who is very happy to have Harry here. He is all giggly and cute, he really has a crush on him. I should tell him now before it is too late. I grab Matts arm and pull him with me into the kitchen.

“Listen, I love you but please don’t get your hopes up. He told me he is not gay, I´m so sorry” I say and he smiles.

“I figured that. I don’t think he is here because of me…he is here because of you, Y/N” he replies and I roll my eyes at him.

“Yeah sure. Let´s go” I shrug it off and we get back to work.

When it is time for our colleagues to take over and we are finished with our shift, Harry is still there. Sitting at the counter, joking with Matt and smiling. I take off my apron and get my coffee to sit down next to Harry.

“So…what are you usually up to after your shift?” Harry asks and I look at Matt.

“Normally I get lunch with this lad or we just hang out a bit,” I reply and Matt nods, as he falls down on the chair next to me.

“What about a nice movie and some pizza today? I don’t feel like going into a restaurant,” he suggests. I shrug my shoulders as I say:

“I don’t mind some relaxed time at your home,” he smiles at me and nods to Harry.

“What about you? Wanna join? I feel like we three are friends now,” Matt says and I hide my face in my hands. He is so awkward sometimes. I hear Harry laughing and wish, I could just sink into the floor and never come back.

“Sure, why not. I haven’t planned anything for today, I´d love to join you.” He answers and I look at him very embarrassed.

“You don’t have to. He is just pushing people, like always,” I say and Harry shakes his head.

“No, I really want to” he assures me and I shrug my shoulders. It´s fine with me.

We have a really nice and funny evening all together. We watch some stupid funny movies, until I nearly pass out and walk over to my home, which isn’t far away.

Three weeks later Matt and I are having a terrible hangover from the night before when we were at a concert at the O2. We partied a lot afterwards and had a great time but today I feel like shit and he even looks like shit.

“Oh god, I swear if these old ladies come in today, I will cry. My head is exploding and this is my fifth coffee today…It´s only 11 and just ugh,” Matty whines and I shoot a half-smile at him.

“At least my head is normal, I am just a bit sick today…luckily,” I answer and put the next order on his tray. He looks miserably at me before he walks off to the table. I don’t even notice, that Harry comes in. He wasn’t here since we had our movie night with him weeks ago. I thought he just wasn’t so fond of us anymore and disappeared.

“Hello, love. How´ve you been?” he asks and hugs me, kissing my cheek.

“Very well, thank you. We are slightly hungover today, so don’t be confused. How´ve you been?” I ask back and he smiles, as Matt approaches.

“Y/N. They wanted Espresso, not Cappuccino. Hi, Harry.” He says unenthusiastically and I nod, taking one of those cappuccinos for myself and making some Espresso. Matt hands one of the wrong orders to Harry and smiles.

“I thought you quit us,” he says very honest and Harry laughs.

“No way, you two are too adorable to quit. I was just busy, that´s all,” he answers and I smile.

The shift takes ages to pass by and we actually don’t talk very much. It is like an exchange of company from Harry for coffee from us. But it´s not awkward at all.

Matt says his goodbyes very quickly after we finished our shift and leaves us alone. I sigh and finish my coffee.

“You look tired, what would you say to a hot cup of tea and a crackling fire?” he asks and I look at him.

“Sounds perfect, but where do I get this? Maybe with a nice bath…oh why don’t I have a tub?” I sigh and he chuckles.

“I have all of it and you are gladly invited to come home with me…If you want,” he looks a bit shy and I smile at him. How could I resist when someone asks me to take care of my hangover.

Harry takes me home to his huge house and guides me into his kitchen, where he makes us some tea. We sit on his couch and sip our teas. I like his house, it is comfy and more personal than I thought. I expected more like a furniture prospect, no personal things but he has some framed pictures on the wall and a lot of books in an immense bookshelf. The whole interior has Harry written all over it. I mean, I don’t know him that well but I do know him a bit.

“Would you like to have a bath?” he asks and I laugh a little.

“No, it´s just nice to not sit alone at home and suffer,” I reply and he chuckles, kicking his boots off of his feet. He was wearing black Chelsea boots with some black skinny jeans and a warm sweater. The upper part of his prince-like locks is tugged back in a small bun, so it doesn’t bother him.

“Anytime, you can stop by as often as you want,” he assures and I lean back in this unbelievably comfortable couch.

“Very nice of you. You know…when you walked in a few weeks ago and Matt explained to me who you were, I thought you would be arrogant and kind of a snob…but I am glad you turned out to be nothing of that,” he laughs and rests his arm behind me on the rest of his couch.

“I am glad, I didn’t turn out as a douchebag either. I am happy to have met you both…Can I be honest with you?” he asks and I nod my head. Of course, he can be honest with me.

“When I decided to walk into this café I was just interested in you. I saw you from outside and I just had to go in…I never expected to find such amazing new friends and now I am kind of scared to destroy this friendly relationship but…I have to ask. I would like to take you out on a date sometime, if you are fine with that?” his voice seems a bit shaky and I look at him, to see if he really means it.

“I mean, I know I come with a huge package and I would totally understand if you don’t want to get involved in all this media business frenzy…but I like you, I really do and I would love to take you out for dinner…You are amazing,” he says and I smile, turning a bit red on my cheeks.

“I would love to, because…I like you too and I don’t care about your package. I like you, not your fame or money. Just you, you are a gentleman and extremely friendly, funny and charming. I think you would treat a girl like a lady,” I respond and he beams at me, showing his amazing dimples and his cute smile.

“You have no idea how relieved I am, that you said yes. Most women say yes to a date with me, because I am Harry Styles and they want to spend time with me, they are not interested in me but my money and fame. The fact that you didn’t know me when I walked into the café is so amazing and so surreal, I was extremely nervous to ask you out. Like a normal man would be, if he isn’t famous,” he says and I nod. I get what he means.

“Glad to be able to ground you,” I laugh and he joins before he leans in and hugs me tight. I close my eyes and hug him back, inhaling his expensive scent.

I let him go and look at him. Could I fall in love with this handsome guy? I am sure he is a good man, friendly and kind, loving and passionate. My heart beats a bit faster, as I look into his mesmerizing emerald green eyes and as he now tugs a loose strand of my hair behind my ear, I close my eyes for a split second. His hand touches my cheek, caressing it slightly, before I feel a light pressure on my lips.

I don’t have to open my eyes, I know that he kisses me and I don’t complain at all. I lean into the kiss and he grabs my face with both of his hands, scooting closer on the couch. I put my hands on his hip and snake my hands under his sweater. It gets a bit steamier very fast and I can feel his tongue asking for permission to enter my lips. I open them and our tongues start an erotic fight, while he pushes me back onto the couch. He hovers now over me in the perfect position for me to get off his sweater. I let my hands wander over his toned and tattooed body, as he kisses my neck.

“We haven’t even dated yet,” he whispers and I can feel his hands under my shirt.

“I know” I reply and try to catch my breath before he kisses me again and I get dizzy in my head.

This is amazing, I wish we would never stop but eventually, he sits up straight and looks at me with red kissed lips and flushed cheeks.

“We will continue here very soon, but first I want to take you out on a date. I don’t do this just for fun” he explains and takes his sweater back. I like that he is not like the other guys. I like that he wants to be responsible and sure. He seems to care, that the girl doesn’t feel like she´s being used.

This was requested by my friend and I love writing requests, so if you have one send it. They are always open.

I hope you liked it, please share and like and comment the hell out of it.

Love, xx

#Harry Styles #Harry Styles smut #Harry Styles Imagine #Harry Styles FF #Harry Styles blurb #Harry Styles Oneshot #Harry Styles Fanfic #Harry Styles fluff #1d #one direction #one direction fanfiction #one direction fanfic #one direction imagine #one direction oneshot #1dff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you

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kaleidoscopeminds · 4 years

Text

I’m going blind from this sweet craving

This came about because I wanted to write some Cake and my brain just went bakery!!! au!!!! Anyway this is very self-indulgent and driven by my own baking obsession. Please enjoy 6k of me talking about cake (literally) and a cheeky bit of side mashton because I couldn’t resist. For the club because everything I do is for the club <3

Warnings: horribly tooth rotting fluff, too many baking metaphors

Title from Cake by the Ocean by DNCE because I think I’m funny

Luke places the last piece of broken Oreo carefully atop the whirl of buttercream and wipes his hands on his apron, reviewing the set of cupcakes in front of him. He knows he’s hypercritical of his own work; he gets called a perfectionist by Michael at any opportunity (and not in a complimentary way), but he still maintains that it’s the only way to be to make anything good.

He deems this double dozen of the Oreo chocolate as close to perfect as he’s going to manage this morning and slides them next to the strawberries and cream set with mini meringue topping he just finished. He goes to the walk-in refrigerator and pulls out the layer cake that he made before he left yesterday, and then crosses over to dry storage to wheel out the trolley containing the carefully wrapped crates of bread that Ashton, their bread supplier, had dropped off about an hour ago.

He pulls the trays of croissants, pain au chocolat and pain aux raisins out of the oven deftly, and slides them onto a cooling rack to leave for a couple of minutes, before he can transfer them to the cabinet in the front of the bakery, and checks the clock. It’s 6:40, so he’s just on time to get everything stacked up in the front if he has a bit of help.

He hears the door at the front of the cafe slam, handle jangling ominously as it closes again and Luke smiles to himself, grabbing the trays of cupcakes and heading out into the front, opening the swing door with his hip.

“Hi Mikey,” Luke calls over as Michael struggles out of his jacket, pushing his glasses up onto his nose and grumbling incoherently.

“I’m not late,” Michael starts, attempting to pull his apron out of his backpack and hang up his jacket on the hook at the same time.

Luke doesn’t say anything, just turns his head to look deliberately at the large clock hanging over the coffee machine behind the counter and raises his eyebrows, smiling slightly.

“Well, barely,” Michael responds defensively. “You’re not the boss of me, Luke Hemmings.”

Luke laughs, “Unfortunately for you, I am. Supervising baker remember?” He opens up the display cabinet and slides the cakes carefully into place.

“Promotions gone to your overly large blonde head already, I see,” Michael says, struggling with his apron ties where they’ve got tangled around his belt.

Luke laughs again and goes over to Michael, untangling him and turning him round to tie his apron for him. “Go and drink your coffee Mikey, I made one for you about 10 minutes ago, should still be hot. I’ll get the rest of the stuff out to the front.”

“I think I’m in love with you,” Michael says genuinely, quickly walking behind the counter and finding the insulated travel mug Luke had filled with a latte earlier that morning. He pulls off the lid and Luke watches him practically inhale it, smiling fondly as he makes his way back into the kitchen.

“Remind me again why I always seem to be making coffee for you when you’re the trained barista?” Luke calls out as he carefully lifts the 4 layered cake onto a stand and carries it back out to the front.

“Ooh that looks fucking good what’s in that?” Michael asks, eyes lighting up at the sight of the cake in Luke’s careful grip. “And it's because you won’t admit it but you’re in love with me too,” He adds, putting his coffee down so he can take the cake off Luke to put on top of the cabinet.

“Chocolate hazelnut with Nutella and praline,” Luke replies with a smile. “Sorry to disappoint you Michael but we would never work, I couldn’t be with someone who hates mornings,” He says solemnly as he returns to the kitchen, lightly checking the pastries to make sure they’re cool enough before tipping them onto another tray.

“You’re going to be on your own for a while then!” Luke hears Michael call, and he laughs as he comes back through the swing door. “No one likes mornings,” Michael continues crabbily, downing the rest of his coffee in one gulp.

“You know who does like mornings?” Luke asks as he passes over the tray to Michael. “Our lovely bread baker.”

Michael blushes and ducks his head at the mention of Ashton. “Why don’t you ask him out then,” He grumbles, lining the pastries up neatly with the tongs in his hand.

“Not my type.” Luke wiggles his eyebrows at Michael. “Plus I think he might be more interested in barista types than cake-making types.”

“Shut up Luke,” Michael groans back. “I’ve told you before, he barely knows who I am. I only see the man for about 5 minutes every day when he comes to pick up the crates.”

“And yet every morning. I have to tell him that ‘No Michael’s not here yet, sorry,’” Luke smirks. “Honestly Mikey, you’re missing out not being here at half past five, lots of Ashton content.”

“Yes but that would involve, you know, being here at half past five,” Michael replies sarcastically. “Did Em make any tarts for today?” He asks.

“Yeah they look great, she’s done a new orange curd one with chocolate pastry which I’m excited to try.” Luke accepts the change of subject and goes back towards the kitchen. “Do you want to come and grab your boyfriend’s bread? Think that’ll be the last of it then.”

Michael glares at Luke and pretends to trip him up as he walks past, then follows him into the back.

“You’re such a dickhead sometimes you know that,” Michael says grumpily, pulling out the loaves of bread and stacking them on the counter.

Luke laughs, it’s too easy to get a rise out of Michael, particularly first thing in the morning and especially when it comes to Ashton. He opens the fridge again and as always sends a silent thank you to the angel that is Em, their evening baker, and the only reason they’re able to produce enough goods for the cafe. It honestly changed his life when his boss decided to employ an extra baker, now he can actually leave when the cafe closes; she picks up anything that Luke doesn’t manage to finish, as well as shaping the pastries to chill overnight and producing a few dozen tarts for the next day. He checks the new orange curd tarts and their customer favourite, the strawberry ones (perfect as always), and slides them off the shelves.

“You were literally declaring your love for me not 10 minutes ago I believe,” Luke says, checking the fridge to make sure he’s not missed anything.

He turns around frowning at the lack of a bitchy response, but Michael’s distracted by something in one of the crates.

“You okay there?” Luke questions.

“Yes,” Michael mumbles, blushing furiously, attempting to pull the crate out of Luke’s view. Luke quickly walks over, interest piqued, and grabs the crate out of Michael’s hands, ignoring his noise of protest.

In the bottom of the crate there’s one of Michael’s favourite chocolate chip hot cross buns, but instead of a cross on top there’s a carefully shaped ‘M’. Luke laughs delightedly.

“He barely knows who you are, hm?” Luke teases.

“Its..” Michael coughs embarrassed. “It’s probably just a friendly thing.”

Luke rolls his eyes. “Come off it Mikey, that’s the most obvious display of affection in enriched dough form that I’ve ever seen. Where’s my L eh? Nowhere to be seen.”

“Shut up,” Michael says, but he reaches into the crate and pulls out the bun, wrapping it in some baking paper with utmost care, before walking out into the front of the cafe.

“You’re meant to be stocking the actual breads!” Luke calls after him, grabbing the tarts and following Michael out.

Michael just raises his middle finger at him as he gently slides the wrapped bun into his backpack, still blushing.

Luke laughs and goes to fetch them himself, stacking them in the baskets at the side of the counter, ready to be sold or to be sliced for their toasties.

“Right I’m gonna start on tomorrow’s cake, let me know when you need a hand.” Luke says, turning to Michael who’s absentmindedly filling up the coffee grinder with beans and not looking like he’s heard Luke in the slightest.

“Earth to Michael, come in Michael.” Luke nudges Michael’s arm with his elbow and Michael looks up with a start.

“Oh yeah, sorry. That’s fine,” Michael replies quickly.

“Are you going to be okay out here on your own?” Luke jokes. “You look like you could burn yourself on steam or tip grounds everywhere at any minute.”

“Yes Luke,” Michael replies testily. “Now go and make some cake and let me do my job, I’ll call you when it gets busy.”

This is the way it works with the two of them in the morning, Luke getting a head start on his batters while Michael deals with the dribs and drabs of the early customers. When it gets to 8am and the little cafe starts getting really busy, Luke will step out to the front to help, and they will work seamlessly together; Michael tamping coffee and steaming milk expertly, whilst Luke takes orders and fills bags with breakfast pastries and muffins. After the rush dies down, Luke will retreat back into the kitchen and start the doughs for the next days’ croissants, until lunch time and he’ll be back out to give Michael a hand with slicing bread and toasting sandwiches.

He enjoys the buzz of service with Michael, moving round each other with a well practised air and smiling at customers, his favourite bit is getting glimpses of the joy they get from something that he’s created. He’s most comfortable in the kitchen though; in the sweetly calming clouds of icing sugar and the reassuring warmth of the ovens, most at ease on his own with slightly sticky hands, flour perpetually dusting all of his clothes and with a speaker quietly playing his favourite songs into the vanilla scented air.

“Luke!” He hears Michael’s voice float through the door, just as he’s closing the oven door on 3 sandwich pans of fresh raspberry filled sponge.

“Coming!” He responds, setting his timer for 30 minutes, and pinning it to the top of his apron, before washing his hands and heading out of the door to join Michael. He sees there’s a queue building up and quickly steps behind the counter and smiles at the next customer as Michael pours milk into 3 flat whites in quick succession, a perfect leaf in milk foam appearing in each of them with an artful flick of his wrist.

“Hi, what can I get you?” He smiles at the man who’s just approached the counter.

“A small black Americano to take away, and make it quickly, I’ve already been here 15 minutes and some of us have actual jobs to work you know,” an older man in a suit barks at him, not looking up from his phone.

“So sorry for the delay Sir, we’re very busy as you can see. Can I take a name for that?” Luke grits his teeth but maintains the smile on his face with some effort.

“It’s Richard,” the man says pompously. “And maybe you should employ more staff if you’re this busy.”

“We’ll take your feedback on board,” Luke replies, his smile coming forced. He writes the man's order, and “Dick” in tiny writing underneath on a cup before turning round and putting it on top of the coffee machine, rolling his eyes at Michael as he does so. Michael smirks in return, pressing his lips together to quell a laugh and slotting the portafilter into place under the grinder.

“That’ll be £2.00 please.”

“Actually I think I’d like to speak to the manager about the poor service before I pay,” The man says brusquely.

“She’s not here at the moment unfortunately,” Luke responds, not bothering to maintain the smile.

“Well then I’d like to speak to the most senior person here,” The man continues.

“You’re looking at him,” Luke replies coolly, crossing his arms. He’s never been good at dealing with difficult customers, which is why he prefers being in his quiet domain in the kitchen, but he’s dealt with men like this before, all talk but no action when pushed.

“I think you’re being incredibly rude, you’ve made me wait a ridiculous amount of time for a coffee which is priced extortionately, and now you’re going to be disrespectful to my face,” The man snaps.

“Maybe if people like you just paid and left then nobody would have to wait as long.” A calm voice comes from behind the man.

Luke looks around the rapidly reddening man in front of him to see the source of the voice and sees a man around his age in a suit, with a pair of headphones slung around his neck. Luke tries not to stare but the man is gorgeous, all deep brown eyes the colour of rich dark chocolate ganache, and swooping dark hair, his eyebrows raised and plump lips pursed slightly.

The older man starts spluttering angrily, “And who do you think you are to say something like that to me?”

The younger man just shrugs and continues to look at him calmly, not bothering to elaborate. Luke takes the opportunity to hold out the card machine towards the older man.

“£2.00 please,” He repeats.

The man scowls and taps his card against the machine.

“You can wait at the end for your drink,” Luke says with a dry smile.

The man grunts but moves away to the side with a glare.

“Thanks,” Luke says quietly, smiling at the younger man as he approaches.

The man’s lips spread into a genuine smile and Luke thinks they look even better that way if that were possible. “No worries, I think you were handling it fine, it was just an observation.” His voice is warm and deep, reminding Luke of a buttery caramel sauce.

Luke bites his lip and tries not to blush. “What can I get for you?”

“Flat white, please,” The man says, still smiling at Luke.

“Name?” Luke attempts to hide his face behind the cup he’s just picked up.

“Calum,” He says. “But I think I’ll take that to have in if you don’t mind?”

“Of course!” Luke says quickly, fumbling his pen slightly as he switches the paper cup for a ceramic one, peeling a sticky note so he can write Calum’s order. “Anything to eat?”

“I’m new here, what do you recommend?” Calum says, cocking his head slightly before looking over the display case. “It all looks amazing.”

Luke definitely blushes this time and clears his throat. “Well the pains au chocolat are quite good I think,” he says nervously.

“Let’s go with that then.” Calum smiles again and Luke thinks his legs might have melted into his shoes but he can’t seem to move them to check if that’s true or not.

“Or if you wanted something sweeter you could go with one of the lemon muffins, or the strawberry cupc-”

“Luke,” Michael interrupts from behind him. “Please stop flirting with this nice man and get on with serving the other eight nice people we have waiting?” He begs.

If Luke thought he was blushing before it's nothing compared to the heat he feels in his face now. He turns to Michael and throws him daggers.

“The pain au chocolat sounds perfect.” Calum fishes out his wallet. “And your colleague’s right, I’m being a bit of a hypocrite after telling that twat to hurry up aren’t I?” He pushes a hand through his hair and smiles apologetically.

“No, you’re fine it’s no problem at all,” Luke manages to get out. “That’ll be £5.60.”

Luke lets Calum tap his card on the machine and then busies himself with pulling the pastry out and onto a plate which he places on a tray with a napkin, ready for Michael to put the coffee on when it's been made.

“Why don’t you go and sit down, Luke will bring it over in a few minutes if you’re not in too much of a rush?” Michael suggests, pressing the buttons on the coffee machine and sliding a cup underneath to catch the espresso starting to stream out.

Calum looks bemusedly at Michael for a second before shrugging. “That’d be great, yeah. My office is just round the corner so I’ve got a few minutes. Thanks… Luke.” He says Luke’s name like he’s deciding how he likes the taste of it in his mouth, before quirking his lips once more, and heading to a table in the corner of the cafe.

“What are you doing?” Luke hisses at Michael as he takes the next customer’s order, writing quickly on another cup and fishing change out of the till when the woman hands over a five pound note. “You were just making a point about how busy we were!”

“I’m not telling you to go and sit down with him,” Michael whispers back, only just audible over the sound of the coffee grinder. “But he’s obviously into you, just take his coffee and flirt a bit and then come back and help me!”

Luke takes the most recent batch of completed coffees and distributes them to the waiting customers, smiling slightly when the rude man snatches it off him and storms out on his phone without even checking the name on the cup. He takes another order and passes it to Michael, just as Michael finishes off a flat white with a perfect heart.

“There,” He says in a pleased voice, setting it down next to the pain au chocolat on Calum’s tray. “Now off you go.”

Luke smiles at the woman he’s just served then glares at the tray and at Michael. “What have you put a heart on it for!” He yelps.

“It’s called flirting!” Michael starts steaming another jug of milk.

“He’s going to think you like him not me!” Luke protests.

“Just go!” Michael hisses, finishing up another coffee and handing it to a waiting customer. “Hi, how are you?” He intercepts the next person waiting at the counter before Luke can do anything about it.

Luke huffs noisily and picks up the tray reluctantly. He wouldn’t go over at all, but Calum did help him with the arsehole customer so the least he can do is actually provide the service he came in for and give the man his coffee. He heads over to where Calum is sat, with his headphones on and jiggling his knee as he types something into his phone. He looks up at the sounds of Luke putting his plate down on the table and smiles gratefully. Luke then sets down the coffee next to the plate and tries to tamp down his instinct to run away immediately. Calum looks at the coffee and then up at Luke, eyes twinkling and a blush in his cheeks.

“Hope you have a great day!” Luke squeaks out and speed walks back to the counter.

“So?” Michael asks as he fishes out a croissant and places it in a bag, tapping the end of the tongs on the glass.

“Uh, I told him to have a good day then ran away before he could respond,“ Luke mutters, snatching the bag off Michael and handing it off to the customer in front of him.

“Luke -” Michael starts.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Luke snaps. “Make coffee.”

“Okay boss,” Michael says, barely repressing a giggle.

Luke spends the next 15 minutes regretting every life choice he’s ever made and resolutely not looking towards the corner Calum is sat in, focusing entirely on the rush of customers. At about 8:45 he sees out the corner of his eye that Calum has stood up, brushing a few crumbs off his knee and patting his pockets. Luke turns around and busies himself with writing the next order on a cup for Michael so that Calum can leave without making eye contact with him. When he deems that it’s been long enough, he turns back to the counter, but standing just off to the side is Calum, scuffing a hand up through the back of his hair and smiling shyly at Luke again.

“Just wanted to say, an inspired choice on the pain au chocolat.” He says. “Send my compliments to the chef,”

“Oh erm, thanks, I will.” Luke stutters out.

“Bye, Luke,” Calum says. “Maybe see you tomorrow, and... Hope you have a great day too.” His face breaks out into a wider smile that reminds Luke of the feeling of getting just the right consistency for macaron batter, or a perfectly smooth finish on a cake or the way good puff pastry flakes into the perfect fragments when you cut through a mille-feuille. Or something.

With that Calum slips his headphones back onto his head and leaves the cafe.

“You are a useless sack of shit you know that,” Michael scoffs at him.

“Fuck off,” Luke mutters under his breath. “Two words. Ashton. Irwin.” Michael glares back at him.

They get through the last half hour of the rush as normal, Luke pausing only briefly to pull the sponges out of the oven, and he’s twitching more than ever to get back into the safety of his kitchen with some dough in his hands and the comforting whirr of his mixers.

“Okay I’m all good here, you can go,” Michael smiles at him shaking his head.

Luke basically runs through the doors into the back and inhales deeply. God, he needs to get a grip.

It continues like this over the next few weeks. Calum will come in most mornings, and sometimes he’s in a rush, smiling apologetically as he orders to take away. Most mornings though, he will appear earlier, choose something to eat on Luke’s recommendation and sits at the table in the corner for 20 minutes before complimenting what he’s eaten on his way out. Luke never speaks to him short of suggesting a new pastry or muffin (and maybe he’s also developing new options everyday just to be able to give Calum something else to praise), but he does spend quite a lot of time looking at Calum sitting in his corner, long fingers wrapping around his mug of coffee and mouth chewing thoughtfully on whatever Luke’s provided him with whilst he jiggles his knee to his music.

Luke swears that sometimes when he chances one of these looks over to him whilst he’s serving a customer, Calum is looking back at him, but his brown eyes always blink away as soon as Luke’s catch them.

Predictably, Michael is absolutely insufferable about it.

“Loverboy’s looking at you again,” He smirks, checking the most recent order Luke has written for him.

“Shut up, Mikey,” Luke says petulantly. “He is not.”

“He’s always looking at you, Luke,” Michael laughs. “You’re actually driving me mad, please just ask him out or something, you two have the most obvious thing for each other ever. ”

“We do not, he doesn’t like me like that,” Luke protests. “He could be looking at you for all we know, you were the one who put a heart on his flat white,” he adds, sourly.

“You should see his face drop when he comes in here and you’re already in the back,” Michael responds knowingly. “He looks like someone’s pissed in his coffee every time you’re not here to stammer at him about what cakes you’ve made.”

Luke’s face flames red and he turns his back on Michael deliberately to serve the next customer, as he hears Michael’s suppressed giggles behind him. Look, he knows Michael might have a point and that he could just talk to Calum, but Luke doesn’t really know how, unless he’s talking about pastry or ganache or sponges words just don’t come that easily to him. Especially when faced with someone who looks like Calum does. He sighs and closes his eyes briefly. When he opens them, as if summoned by Luke’s thoughts, there Calum is at the edge of the counter.

“Blueberry muffin was particularly good today,” He says quietly with his usual smile. “Have a good day, Luke.” He gives a small wave and exits the cafe. Luke opens his mouth to say something before he can leave, but nothing comes out so he just closes it again. He kicks the edge of the counter grumpily.

“I’m literally the worst ever,” He groans, spinning round and going through to the kitchen, swinging the door behind him, Michael’s laughs following him through.

Luke is having what he thinks might be the most disastrous day ever. It’s after 5pm, the cafe has just closed and he would normally think about going home soon but Em’s got the day off and he’s not been able to make half of the stuff he needs to for tomorrow. Every ganache he’s attempted has split, he’s burnt one batch of cupcakes and under-cooked another so they’ve sunk in the centre, he’s crystallised his caramel so its unusable, and the chocolate he tempered for the triple chocolate layer cake he has planned has come out mottled and dull. He hates to admit it but the worst part of it was that he didn’t even see Calum this morning, he worked out the front much longer than he normally does in the hope of seeing the other man, but he never turned up. Michael had just raised his eyebrows and given him a knowing grin as he had slumped back into the kitchen at well past half-nine. He sighs at himself as he pushes a hand through his curly hair which he’s had to pull back into a tiny ponytail at the nape of his neck, and tips another set of cakes into the bin.

He hears a knock on the back door of the kitchen, and the door opening. A curly brown head appears round the door frame.

“Hi Luke, Is this a bad time?” Ashton says, surveying the disarray before him, bowls and utensils on every surface, half finished cakes and fillings littering the other available spaces.

Luke huffs out a laugh and wipes his hands on his apron. “No you’re fine come on in, just having one of those days. Sorry for the state of it in here.”

Ashton smiles at him and steps into the kitchen, going to the store where he knows they keep the empty bread crates. “No worries at all mate! Oh I brought my flatmate with me, hope you don’t mind. Calum had the day off today and I roped him into helping me do the pick-ups.”

Luke’s mouth drops open as Calum Calum sidesteps into the kitchen and smiles at Luke embarrassed. “Uh, hi?”

Luke just gapes, spatula limp in one hand.

“Just going out the front for a sec, Cal, just need to check something with Michael!” Ashton calls quickly exiting the room. Luke thinks he spots a smirk on Ashton’s face and his eyes narrow in suspicion.

“Uh, sorry for barging in on you like this,” Calum starts, standing awkwardly by the door still. “When Ash said he did deliveries for cafes in the local area I didn’t know he meant yours as well.”

“Missed you this morning,” Luke blurts out, then promptly feels himself turn red, again. Jesus Christ where did that come from? He wants to disappear like, immediately and wonders whether he could shut himself in the walk-in without Calum noticing.

A small pleased smile appears on Calum’s face and he blushes slightly. “I thought it might be a bit desperate to also turn up when I’m not even in the office. But I guess I’m here anyway.”

“Well I’m glad,” Luke says quietly, ducking his head and biting his lip.

Calum’s eyes twinkle at him. “So this is where the magic happens?” He asks, examining his surroundings.

Luke groans. “Don’t look at it like his,” he begs. “I’m usually such an organised worker I promise, I’m just, having a few issues.”

Calum smiles and comes over to stand next to Luke. Luke inhales sharply and thinks that Calum smells like the freshly baked bread in Ashton’s van but also something else, sweet and spicy, like a hot cinnamon and apple cake or a warm speculoos biscuit just out of the oven.

“Can I help with anything while I’m here?” He asks softly, reaching out hesitantly and barely grazing Luke’s elbow. Luke focuses on trying to regulate his breaths which is proving almost impossible with Calum standing so close to him, the feeling of his warm hand through his sleeve and the sight of the concerned smile on his face.

“It’ll be okay I think,” he manages to get out breathily. “Thanks though, that’s very sweet of you.”

“No, I think that’s you,” Calum says quietly, reddening a bit but looking up to meet Luke’s eyes.

He reaches out and brushes a hand gently through an escaping curl on Luke’s face.

“You’ve got a bit of flour here.” He says quietly, tilting his head to one side and twisting Luke’s hair around his finger briefly. “And here,” Calum continues, skimming his fingers across Luke’s cheekbone. “Here too,” he murmurs, stepping even closer to Luke and dragging his fingertips under Luke’s chin and down the side of his neck, leaving them to rest curling slightly into the collar of Luke’s shirt and looking at Luke in the eyes. Luke’s not sure if he can breathe, lost in the gentle stroke of Calum’s hand and the swirling chocolate of his eyes, feeling the pink blush dusting across his skin, left in the wake of Calum’s touch. His eyes flicker down to Calum’s lips, and he sees them curve into a smile, before he leans forward slightly and catches Luke’s own lips in a soft kiss.

“Hm,” Calum murmurs as he pulls away slightly. “You taste sweet too.”

Luke honestly thinks this might be the best moment of his life so far, and slides his hand over Calum’s shoulder to pull him back towards him, but just as he does he hears a scuffling sound from outside the swing door into the main cafe.

“Mikey is that you?” Luke asks suspiciously, stepping away from Calum slightly and turning towards the door. Calum steps back too, but loops an arm loosely around Luke’s waist, fingers playing with the ties of his apron.

“No,” a voice comes through the door.

“Get in here,” Luke says bossily, “You too Ashton I know you’re out there.”

The two of them appear in the doorway, Michael having the good grace to look a little ashamed but Ashton doesn’t even bother, a huge shit eating grin on his face.

“What is going on here?” Luke demands, narrowing his eyes at the pair of them. He’s trying to stay stern but it's proving very difficult when he can feel Calum’s hands skim along his side and him gently nose his shoulder blade as he huffs out a giggle behind him.

“What I think is going on is that you, Lukey, and dearest Cal Pal might have been having a moment?” Ashton smirks at the two of them.

“I don’t know how you two are involved in this but I know you are and I want you to explain yourselves,” Luke says petulantly. He then looks at Ashton and Michael closer and catches sight of their hands clasped, hidden slightly behind Ashton.

“What is going on here?!” Luke repeats again, gesturing at their hands. He sees Michael (and Ashton come to think of it) every day, how has he missed this? Probably because he’s been lost in thoughts of Calum for the last 3 weeks he reasons with himself.

Michael blushes to the roots of his hair and pulls away from Ashton slightly but Ashton just tugs him into his body, curving his hand around Michael's hip and pressing a kiss into his neck before releasing him.

“Well Michael and I started talking the other week, and we found out that by some miracle that the Calum that happened to be coming in everyday to stare at Luke for 20 minutes and leave, was the same Calum who lives in my flat and won’t stop talking about the gorgeous cake maker who works at the cafe round the corner from his office.” Ashton says, laughing, as Calum makes a wounded noise of protest and hides his face in Luke’s shoulder. “And this very Luke that Calum wouldn’t stop talking about happened to be the Luke that I deliver bread to every morning and apparently won’t stop throwing longing glances at Calum from the other side of the counter when he thinks he’s not looking.”

Luke squeaks, and feels Calum giggle behind him, both arms coming round his waist and dropping his chin onto Luke’s shoulder.

“And you two thought you would mastermind a plan then I suppose,” Calum says amusedly.

“Why aren’t you more annoyed by this,” Luke gripes, turning his head to try to glare at Calum but managing only to brush his nose against his cheek.

“Because I got what I wanted out of it, regardless of the method,” Calum says sweetly, and Luke blushes again.

“That doesn’t explain.. This!” Luke gestures at Michael and Ashton, he doesn’t know quite why his brain has fixated on this development when he has Calum basically draped along his back but what has happened in the last 10 minutes has been too much for his brain to handle.

“Well we had to come up with a plan so I asked Ashton if he wanted to go for food,” Michael finally pipes up, a small pleased smile on his face.

“You did?” Luke asks in what he acknowledges is probably quite a rude way but this was a turn of events he was not expecting.

“Well maybe watching you pine so disgustingly made me want to do something about it,” Michael retorts, but there’s no heat in it.

“I knew the hot cross bun would work,” Ashton says solemnly, and Michael jabs him in the ribs with his elbow.

“Okay, I’ve decided that’s enough of the two of you,” Calum says. “Go and scheme elsewhere now please.”

Ashton laughs and salutes them before tugging Michael out of the back door.

“I honestly can’t believe this,” Luke begins, “they think they can just meddle in our business and force us into the same room together and that we’ll just kiss and they can pat themselves on the back for a job well done?”

Calum is quiet beside him and Luke turns to look at him. “Well?”

Calum smiles at him, that one that makes Luke feel like he’s floating in sweet mallow clouds and tips his head slightly to the side. “I mean I’m sorry Luke but that’s exactly how it happened, so yes I suppose they can.”

Luke begins to make a noise of protest but Calum just grabs the front of his apron and pulls him back towards him.

“You can carry this on later, but can we stop talking about Michael and Ashton for one second? I was sort of busy before they came in,” Calum whispers over Luke’s lips.

“Yeah okay,” Luke responds, leaning into Calum and catching his lips back against his own.

Calum pulls away after a couple of minutes and brushes another rogue curl out of Luke’s face. “So about that help you turned down earlier, I’m not taking no for an answer. I’ll start cleaning some of these things up and you can get on and do what you do best.” Calum leans in and gives him one last peck before heading over to the sink and starting to run the tap.

Luke smiles, slightly dazed and runs his fingers over his lips, thinking Calum tastes pretty sweet himself, a little bit like the warm vanilla air in his kitchen and a lot like home.

#5sos fanfiction #cake fic #5sos fic #cake #meg fic #this is meg from the past as i have SCHEDULED this as i am busy #ya girl wrote some cake content and it's entirely self-serving #this is probably too long to read nicely on tumblr i should probably sort an ao3 acc #also apologies for any errors im still getting to grips with this and i didn't get anyone to read this for me first #also FUN FACT all the things luke talks about making are my own recipes and things i make 😌 thats how self serving this js

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jiminniethemarshmallow · 5 years

Text

Unresolved Issues (M)

Pairing: Taehyung x OC

Genre: Smut, angst I guess?

Word count: about 27k

Warnings: dom!Tae, bratty reader, a tiny bit of spanking, light choking, Tae fingering reader with his gorgeous hands, dirty talk

(A/N): This is for the BSC summer project! Thanks so much to @ironicarmy @jhspetitegf and @sugadrms for being amazing group members, I really had fun brainstorming and working with you guys. I suggest reading all 4 of our scenarios for this project because they overlap and connect quite a bit and it might be confusing if you don’t! Happy reading 😊

Project Masterlist

Summary: Kim Taehyung has always been the insufferable idiot who you can barely tolerate, even as one of his friends. Due to some meddling from your friends, you end up rooming with him on the trip and bonding with him in a way you’ve failed to do in the years you’ve known him, but what happens when you accidentally discover his feelings toward you?

Coffee shops are one of your favorite places to be. The scent of ground beans and baked goods, soft music playing in the background, the general quietness, it’s all so calming to you, and the soothing atmosphere is enough to pull you out of your groggy, disgruntled mood this morning as you push open the door and greet your friends with a silent smile and a wave. After stopping by the counter to order the usual: a medium mocha frappe with extra chocolate sauce on top (you’re a simple girl), you head over and take a seat next to Namjoon and Hoseok, accepting their greetings and small talk.

“You’re late.” You look up to find Taehyung and Jimin sitting across from you with their arms crossed over their chests, eyes narrowed in your direction— though Taehyung’s eyes aim a little lower than your face.

“It’s not my fault that my mother decided to have a rare “parenting moment” and give me a 20 minute speech on safety and boys on my way out the door. And I’m not late.” Your eyebrow arches in defiance, basically having a staring contest with Taehyung as he holds his stance, Jimin having already dropped the act.

“You’re not late, Faye, you’re right on time!” Zoe, Jin’s girlfriend and the mother figure of the group, checks the time on her phone for what you will guess is the hundredth time in the last 10 minutes. She can be a bit neurotic at times, always needing to plan everything to the very last detail, but you love her regardless and honestly admire her dedication and effort with those types of things. It seems like a lot of work. “Now we’re just waiting on Jungkook.”

At the mention of his name, Sooyun shifts in her seat uncomfortably, playing with the sleeve on her cup. You note the way she nibbles on her lip in thought as she glances repeatedly at the door. You know her well enough to find it obvious that something happened between the two of them, but you won’t say anything unless she wants to tell you. Sooyun is one of the first real friends you made in high school, one of the first people who didn’t treat you like an asshole and actually approached you with kindness instead of passing you off as the quiet, weird, artsy girl that always seemed to lurk on the sidelines. She’s the main reason you’re in this friend group, her generally social personality led to her making many acquaintances and friends, which in turn led to you befriending those people as well since you mainly only hung out with her. These friends include Namjoon and his boyfriend Hoseok, Jungkook, Jin, Zoe, Jimin, and his best friend Taehyung.

Kim Taehyung. The clumsy, air-headed, childish asshole that you begrudgingly call your friend. When you first met him, you absolutely despised him. He was the class clown in your 9th grade gym class and never took a single thing seriously, cracking jokes at every convenience and disrupting the class with his obnoxious behavior. It’s a wonder how you haven’t killed him yet. He seems to take pleasure in pressing your buttons, which you have a quite a few of, and even though you know he does it on purpose, you can never seem to control your temper with him. The only reason you even attempt to tolerate him is because you have a soft spot for Jimin and his manggae cheeks, therefore, you are obligated to accept his best friend. Don’t get me wrong, Tae is one of your closest... “friends”... and you know a lot about each other, but that doesn’t mean that your annoyance toward him has lessened at all.

You sit back and watch as conversation continues among your group, everyone listening to Zoe as she briefs you all on what she has planned for the trip— apparently she printed out a schedule with possible group activities and events. You try your hardest to ignore Taehyung as he spreads himself out across from you, manspreading beyond belief and spewing nonsense as usual. Jimin agrees with nearly every stupid idea that he comes up with and you can’t help but roll your eyes at the pair of them, not missing the wink Taehyung sends your way when he catches your annoyance. At some point Zoe starts to freak out about Jungkook not being here and Jin comforts and reassures her with strong arms wrapped around her waist. You’ve never been big on sappy couples, but you have to admit, they are absolutely, undeniably adorable together. It’s amazing to you how they’ve been together for so long already and have stayed virgins. You aren’t even a virgin and you can hardly say that you’ve had any “real” boyfriends, but you digress. That’s honestly none of your business.

“I’m here!” Jungkook bursts through the door clumsily and Zoe takes the time to scold him while you gather your suitcase and prepare to stand up. A man at the front counter appears with a cup and calls out your name and you depart the table abruptly to claim it, bag in tow. Leaning on the counter, you address the man with a smile, and take the drink with you name on it.

“Finally got my name right.” You beam, grabbing a straw from the dispenser and opening it with your teeth.

“Oh! Let me fix that for you,” He grabs his marker and crosses out your name, rewriting it as “Fade” instead, laughing when you blow the paper straw wrapper at him. “I’m gonna miss not seeing you here every week, Faye.”

“Yeah, me too. I always had the best times here, I’m going to miss hanging out here with my friends.” You frown. Recently, you’ve been feeling rather nostalgic and now everywhere you go you feel a rush of memories and then a brief sadness. Yes, you are moving on to bigger and better things, but you’re going to miss this life. As you share saddened looks with the barista, a sudden presence slides up beside you and your face hardens. “I definitely won’t miss this one, though.” You point with your thumb.

“Hello, Kai.” Taehyung’s voice deepens the way it does when he’s trying to seem intimidating, his eyes staring back and forth between you and your acquaintance.

“Hello, Taehyung.” He responds with the same energy and you feel Taehyung shift an inch closer to you causing you to move your arm so they don’t touch.

“Flirting with customers again, are we?” Taehyung’s thick eyebrow raises quizzically and Kai blushes, though he holds his ground.

“Invading other’s personal space again, are we?” You snort at this, earning a smirk from the man across the counter.

“Is it illegal for a guy to talk to a woman without having an ulterior motive? Not everyone is like you, Tae.” You cut him a steely look and he sucks his teeth.

“You don’t know what his motives are, the guy clearly likes you.”

“I’m standing right here...” Kai mentions, heat radiating off of his face from your lack of reaction.

“Yeah, but at least he’s not a dickhead like you.” Before he can open his mouth to say anything, you grab your luggage and turn away. “Everyone’s about to leave without us, let’s go. Bye, Kai! I promise I’ll visit again before I go off to school!” You wave back at him, noticing how his eyes follow you all the way out of the door and how Taehyung looks back at him menacingly once more before he exits the building. You throw your bag into the trunk of Jin’s car and plop down in the back seat, groaning when Taehyung slides in on the other side of Jimin. “Why can’t you go in the other car?”

“I want to sit with my best friend.” He pats Jimin’s shoulder with a toothy grin. “What, is it illegal for me to ride in the same car as you?” He mimics your voice from earlier and you choose not to say anything back, turning your head toward the window to hold your tongue. Instead, you just shake your head and slip on your headphones, turning on your road trip playlist and pulling out your notebook. It wasn’t too long of a ride to the lake house by your standards, maybe an hour or two, and you planned on occupying yourself the entire way to avoid having to actually engage in conversation this early in the morning. Once everyone is in place, Jin pulls out of the lot and leads the way, Jungkook’s car following closely behind as your journey begins.

Taehyung stares at you in intrigue, thick eyebrows knit as he studies you. Your lilac, chin-length hair shifts in the wind around your soft face, pushed behind one ear when it threatens to obstruct your view. Your deep eyes are cast down, focused on the pencil that strokes fluidly across your notepad before flicking upward to take in the scenery, drawing lines that will magically connect into a beautiful masterpiece. He’s seen you do it many times, completely relaxed in your hunched over posture as you look on objectively at your surroundings, copying down everything that you see at a glance. You’re a pretty girl— not that that determines your value— and you’ve got talent and intelligence that will take you far in life and he admires that about you, always so observant and collected. Never cocky, but still confident, yet quiet at the same time. And you just look so peaceful and natural right now.

“The fuck are you looking at?” You hiss. Behind your deceivingly calm demeanor is a sharp tongue. Your whip-like wit is something to behold and it’s almost always targeted at him. You could feel him looking at you before you even looked up, he’s not very subtle. You suspect that most of the reason his eyes have landed on you is because of the strapless top you’ve elected to wear that shows off the slightest bit of cleavage, and now he can’t take his eyes off you. Pervert. He looks completely unbothered when you catch him, barely batting an eye.

“You have a booger in your nose.” He points across Jimin, and you smack his hand out of the way, not even needing to take off your headphones to know what he’s said. “What are you even drawing? There’s no way you can see anything long enough to draw it.”

When you don’t reply, he leans closer to see, nearly smashing the poor boy stuck between you two. “Tae, Jesus, let me breathe.” Jimin whines, pushing him away. “If you’re going to be like this then maybe we should switch seats so I don’t have to be in the middle of whatever’s going on here.”

“No!” You say a little too loudly, causing Zoe to turn around in the passengers seat.

“You two better not argue the whole way up here.” She frowns, glaring at the two of you.

“I’m literally just sitting here in silence, trying my best to ignore him and draw, why am I being yelled at?” You sigh, increasing the volume of your music to increase your skills at ignoring him.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll have plenty of time to talk out their problems on the trip.” Jin snickers, receiving another striking look from Zoe and a high pitched giggle from Jimin. Taehyung looks around, clearly lost (as always), but no one says anything further, so he asks.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Jin, we weren’t supposed to tell them until we got there!” Zoe says through her teeth, as though the two of you couldn’t hear her.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” At Taehyung’s second attempt, you pause your music and listen in, intrigued with what was so important that they felt the need to hide it from the two of you. “Jimin?”

“Don’t ask me, I wasn’t the one who spilled the beans.” Jimin holds his hands up in defense, not willing to get his head bitten off by Mother Hen in the front seat who seems to avoid your eyes at all costs. This time, you’re the one to ask and she finally gives, sighing before sinking into her chair.

“We all decided who wants to room together at the coffee house and everyone agreed that you and Tae should stay in the same room.” When she breaks the devastating news, the whole car is silent for just a split second before you erupt.

“I’m sorry, what?! You didn’t. You did not. You. Did. Not.” Zoe simply nods at your disbelief, folding her hands in her lap innocently as Jin chuckles beside her. The longer you stare at her, however, the more nervous she becomes until she feels like the air should be broken somehow.

“Don’t look at me, it was Jin’s idea!” She immediately throws him under the bus, his jaw dropping in shock.

“Babe!”

“It was! And you’re the one who brought it up! We weren’t even supposed to tell them.” As they fuss about blame and who said what, you’re left in the back, shell-shocked. You and Taehyung. Spending a weekend in the same room. Together. You think you’re going to be sick.

“You guys decided rooms without us?” Tae finally speaks up, not looking nearly as disturbed as you thought he should be.

“Because they were plotting against us, that’s why.” Breaking out of your trance, you point an accusatory finger at Jin’s seat in front of you, wishing you could shoot lasers out of your eyes. Then you turn to the man beside you who finds the whole situation funny. “Jimin, why aren’t you rooming with Taehyung? I thought you were best friends!”

“We are, but I don’t think we make good roommates.”

“But we do?!” An immediate headache forms behind your eyes and you rub at your face. You’re ready to jump out of your seat, but then you remember that you are currently in a moving vehicle. You hate that you’re this flustered over such a small detail, but you can’t think of a worse torture than spending your nights in the same room as that buffoon. And when you look over at the dumb look he has on his face, you start to regret this trip before it’s even begun.

“We are not changing rooms now, it’s already been decided. You guys need to learn how to get along at some point and this is the perfect way to do it. I don’t know why you hate each other, but I’m tired of you arguing all the time, so you either talk it out, or I’m excluding you from all of the fun activities I planned. C’mon, this should be easy. No one bonds faster than roommates!” Not even you can argue with her after Zoe puts her foot down. You can tell she’ll be a great mother when the time comes, if she ever gets around to doing the deed with Jin. She ends with a tight, demanding smile and you resist the urge to dry heave at the thought of what’s to come.

“So, what you’re telling me is that this was all a set up?” She doesn’t reply to your question and you close your notebook in despair. “Why are you trying to ruin my life?”

“I live for the drama,” Jin gloats once you’ve given up, chancing a glance in the rear view mirror to see your expression. “I thought this trip could use a little excitement. You’re welcome.” He shrugs, chaotic as always.

“I’m glad you find this entertaining.” You’re absolutely drained, feeling like the life has been sucked from your face. You can’t even draw anymore, all of your previous energy and high spirits going straight to Hell, the same place you hope Jin ends up. For the rest of the ride up you sit in misery, listening to your music and wallowing in your misfortune as you tune out the other conversations. You don’t know how Taehyung is taking the news, but what you do know is that if you see his face at all before you get to the lake house, you might just jump out the window.

The lake house is right on the water, beautiful wood and stone architecture that blends in nicely with the nature and trees that surround it. This house is huge, easily able to accommodate your group, and you admire the details when you pull up into the driveway. The first thing you notice are the windows, large and numerous, exposing many parts of the house to natural light. It’s beautiful and if you weren’t so angry right now you would definitely draw it. You’ll have to come out here one day and sketch this in your notebook.

Zoe spends an entire 5 minutes talking about house rules and going over her precious schedule so “everyone knows what we’ll be doing this weekend.” Your take away from her speech is that drunk swimming is strictly prohibited, no one is allowed to go off into the woods alone without telling anyone, and to basically not destroy Jin’s family’s nice vacation home or you’ll be paying for damages. Half of you aren’t even listening— including Jimin, who is too enraptured in the task of taking selfies in front of the house, and Taehyung, who is zoned the fuck out and probably has no clue what is going on— and the few of you who are paying attention only nod silently in agreement to everything she says. As soon as she stops talking, you’re on the move, wanting nothing more than to relax inside.

“What’s up with her?” Jungkook comments in passing when you snatch your bag from Jin’s trunk and stomp past him.

“We told them about the rooms.” Jimin answers, nodding in confirmation at the boy’s wide eyes before pushing past to make a run for the bathroom inside.

“Guys, wait here, I have something to show you.” Jin runs inside the house without further context, leaving the rest of you standing outside in confusion.

“Hurry up!” Taehyung calls, leaning against the closed trunk of the car. The sound of his voice makes you want to punch him just to relieve your frustration.

A minute later, Jin emerges from the house, followed by another man whom you had never seen before. He stands a little bit shorter than Jin, handsome face blank behind his black bangs, yet he looks friendly enough. “This is Yoongi! He’s my parents’ new android, he’s gonna be helping us out this weekend.”

You stare for a few seconds, taking in his words. An android? You had no idea that people were actually purchasing those. You’ve seen ads on tv for them, everyone going crazy over the newest innovations in A.I. and android tech, but those things cost a fortune so you assumed nobody had them. On second thought, it makes perfect sense that Jin’s parents would buy such a costly... appliance... person-thing. They’re certainly rich enough. Yoongi greets each of you individually, shaking your hands and asking for everyone’s names. He looks so life-like, you could forget he wasn’t made of real flesh and bone. Jin explains the details of how Yoongi functions, how he takes commands because his job is essentially to be the groundskeeper for the lake house, but that he is fully conscious and self aware, which means that he can function socially.

“That’s so cool!” Namjoon gushes, his nerdy side coming out as he moves to inspect the “man” in front of you. After the novelty of the introduction wears off, you are the first to head inside, too hot and irritated to listen to Taehyung complain about not wanting to carry Jimin’s bag in for him. You walk in to find Jimin walking around the spacious bottom floor, jaw hanging low as he looks at all the fancy decorations and appliances that fill the home. You could tell him that he missed Yoongi’s introduction, but you’re still pissed off at him.

“Wow, I can’t believe we’re staying here!” He sounds like an excited puppy, making it a point not to miss a single detail in his path.

“I can’t believe you’re making me stay in the same room as Taehyung.” You say bitterly, pressing the button to the elevator even though the stairs are right there. He doesn’t even spare you a glance.

“I’m gonna make sure we make good use of the bar back there,” You roll your eyes as he continues making plans by himself, mostly talking about getting drunk and doing stupid things around all of this expensive furniture. You can only shake your head at him.

Everyone moves their bags into your agreed upon rooms, Jin with Zoe, Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook staying together, Sooyun with Namjoon, and Yoongi getting his room by himself. And of course, you and Taehyung. You plead with Jin to switch you with Yoongi and let you have the single room, to no avail, and spend the rest of the time unpacking and sulking, avoiding Taehyung at all costs. You’ll be over it in a couple of hours, you’re sure, but for now, you just want to sit and wallow in your gloom.

“Hey, it’s not that bad, we can-“

“Stop. I don’t want to hear it.” You shut him down immediately, back facing him and jaw clenched as you stuff clothing into the drawers of your dresser. You aren’t particularly upset with him, this isn’t his fault, but he definitely isn’t making the situation any better.

“What the fuck are these?” Walking over, Taehyung reaches into your small luggage bag, pulling out a pair of your most comfortable panties, a pair of boy shorts with cute little bears on them. “Aw, you act all tough, but you’re really just a big softy, huh?” He pouts, doing his famous aegyo that makes you want to throw your shoe at him, so you do.

“Put those down! Not all girls wear lingerie all the time, Tae, some of us actually like to be comfortable.”

“No, I like them. Bears suit you: cute and fluffy on the outside, mean and vicious once you get close to them.” He easily dodges the other shoe you throw.

“I am not mean.” How dare he say that about you, of all people. He’s the one who deliberately tries to piss you off, so much so that it’s gotten to the point that you get irritated if he even breathes in your direction.

“Oh yeah? Says the girl that just threw her shoes at my head.” A cocky little smirk crawls on his lips when you fume, ready to stand up and just say ‘fuck it’ and fight him. But you won’t. And you never will. He knows this, and that’s what makes him that much more insufferable.

“Fuck off.”

“See! Why can’t you be nice for once? We’re going to be sharing this room whether you like it or not, so we might as well try to be cordial with each other.” He looks on as you stare at him in silence, considering his offer shortly before scoffing and turning back to continue filing away your clothes.

When Taehyung leaves to go to the bathroom, you quickly dig into your bag for the embarrassing amount of condoms your mother stuffed into the side pocket, gathering them in one of your caps and stepping out into the hall. Everyone’s doors are open thankfully, so you walk down the hall like a flower girl and throw handfuls of condoms into each doorway.

“What the hell?” Namjoon sticks his head out of the door to find you walking back down the hall nonchalantly, holding the last few in one hand. “Umm?” You turn, shrugging.

“I don’t need ‘em.”

Hoseok pops his head out of the room across from his boyfriend, carrying a bunch of them in his arms. “Thank you!”

Yoongi’s door is at the end of the hall and you knock before entering, finding him opening the curtains a little wider to let in the sunlight. You stand there silently for a moment, taking in his appearance. He truly looks like a human, it’s crazy. He stands at the window, watching the birds and the leaves and the breeze and you wait a few long moments before disturbing him. “Yoongi?” He turns quickly at attention, as if waiting for instruction. “Do you want some condoms?”

“Condoms?” He questions, and you’re not sure if he knows what those are.

“Yes?” You hold them out and he approaches, picking up a package to inspect it. Can androids even have sex? You wouldn’t know.

“Yes, of course I’ll take some condoms because I’ll definitely need them.” He says with a completely straight face, adding an eye roll at the end. Did he just give you sarcasm? Jin did say he’s advanced, maybe you should try to be more comfortable around him. You’ve never met anyone rich enough to own an android so this is your first interaction with one aside from what you’ve seen on tv.

“Well I don’t need them. I was just offering.” Despite his comment, he takes them from your hand with a smile.

“I appreciate your thoughtfulness. You should keep one, too. Never know what might happen.” You nod at his advice, keeping one for yourself even though you highly doubt you’ll be needing it.

It’s later now, the sun nearly all the way set, casting the most lovely shades of orange, pink, and even purple across the sky, the water reflecting it so beautifully. You couldn’t imagine a prettier sight and you wish that you had your paints with you so you could capture this landscape, but a simple photo will have to suffice. Looking out over the water, you stand alone on the patio as everyone gets ready inside, preparing food and other snacks and necessities for your movie night under the stars. Zoe’s idea of course, but you have no complains about her plans. Just then, Tae walks up and stands beside you, hands in the pockets of his shorts as he takes in the view.

“I saw this exact thing in a dream once,” He starts, and you’re already shaking your head for him to stop, mentally begging him not to ruin this perfect moment. “It looked just like this, except I was on a boat and I was getting my dick sucked by that girl in our history class.” You take in a deep breath, eyes shut while you collect yourself, and then you decide it’s not worth saying anything to that and simply walk back inside to help the others. “I don’t know why she was there, I didn’t even like her like that!” He tries to justify, but you’re already gone.

“Faye! Come help me at the grill!” Sooyun waves you over, standing over the fancy appliance after Jin helps her turn it on, heading back into the kitchen. It looks like something you would see on a cooking show, top notch equipment and cooking utensils, cleaned spotlessly.

“That rich motherfucker,” You shake your head in disbelief. “Who even owns stuff like this? I bet this one grill is worth enough to pay my college tuition.” You laugh, helping her place food on the racks.

“Forget the grill, I’m surprised his parents own this whole place, it’s like a freaking resort! Actually, no I’m not, they already live in a mansion, this is probably nothing to them. But I didn’t expect them to let all of us stay here without adult supervision.”

“Sooyun, we are adults. Technically.” As a group of 18 year olds fresh out of high school, legally, you all could be considered adults. But you’re far from responsible. Jin’s parents must have a lot of faith in you all to let you stay here with a fully stocked refrigerator and bar— your parents would never let you do such a thing, even with supervision.

“Yeah, ‘adults’. You said your mom gave you a lecture this morning? What about?” Sooyun is a really great listener and you’ve confided in her multiple times throughout the period of time you’ve known her, so naturally she knows the most about your private life. Jimin is another great listener in the group— on the rare occasions when you can get him alone— but he has the tendency to say a lot of things he’s not supposed to when he gets drunk, so you kinda stopped sharing secrets with him. Plus, he’s already Taehyung’s secret holder, you wouldn’t want to overburden him.

You sigh. “She basically gave me a rundown of how to survive in the wilderness and what to do if we see a bear. I tried to tell her we’re not camping outside or anything, but of course she wouldn’t listen to me and kept talking anyway. Then she shoved a handful of condoms into my bag because she “couldn’t trust that a horny group of teenagers will be able to keep their hands to themselves”, so she gave them to me “just in case” and then proceeded to lecture me about getting pregnant and STDs.”

“Is that why there was a pile of condoms left on my floor? I thought someone was pulling a prank.” She mumbles, looking a little relieved, closing the lid of the grill to let the food cook properly. “But at least she cares, right?”

“Yeah I guess...” Your mother has never been good at the parenting thing. At times you felt as if she were too lenient, giving you more freedom than you needed and letting certain things go unpunished. You aren’t a bad child, you rarely do things that deserve punishment, but growing up you wished she were a little more involved in your life or at least showed that she gave a crap about what you did, and now that you’re going away to college she’s finally stepping in to be the parent that you needed a long time ago. “I think she realized how much time she wasted not acting like a parent and now she’s trying to make up for it. But it’s too late, I grew up already and she missed it. I appreciate her effort, but at this point it’s just annoying and unwanted.” She nods, taking in your words silently. “She did say something that I agreed with, though. Stay away from Kim Taehyung.”

Both of you look toward the glass patio door where you can hear Taehyung and Jimin either laughing or arguing over at the bar, most likely trying to decide how drunk they want to get tonight. Tae is the loudest, shouting something about vodka and sexy bartenders and the two of you just shake your heads. The only times Tae actually drinks are when he’s with Jimin or there’s a threat of him being the only sober one. He told you once that he hates alcohol and how it tastes, yet you somehow find him drunk at almost every social gathering you’ve attended in your high school career. And drunk Tae is not something you want to deal with, ever, especially since you’ll be sharing a room with him tonight.

“What’s your problem with him? Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t get why you have such a vendetta against him when he’s literally done nothing wrong.” Leave it to her to always speak her mind. It’s something you’ve always admired her for and that’s probably why you get along so well.

“He’s an idiot and I don’t understand him. I feel like he doesn’t think about the words that come out of his mouth 97% of the time and that irritates the hell out of me.”

“Yeah, but neither does Jimin. They’re stupid as a pair, it’s not just Taehyungie, but you like Jimin just fine.” She does have a point there. Jimin isn’t the bad influence that causes Tae to do stupid things— he’s capable of that all on his own— but for some reason when they’re together, Tae just gets exponentially worse. You have a theory that the two of them actually share one collective brain cell, except Jimin holds it most of the time and Tae only uses it when he needs to swindle someone into getting something he’s not supposed to have.

“I don’t have a problem with Jimin, he’s had a tough life and I know most of the time his behavior is just a coping mechanism for the shit he’s going through. I actually think he’s really strong and has a great personality, and if he wasn’t gay I probably would have jumped his bones by now.” It’s no secret that you are attracted to Jimin. I mean, have you seen him? When you first met, you couldn’t stop blushing and drooling over him, despite his questionable behavior and moods at times, and when you learned of his background as a boy whose only home has been an orphanage and the other children that live in it, you completely fell for him. You swear you were obsessed with him for at least a month after your first introduction, you were even nicer to Taehyung to get closer to him. But then one day you heard him talking about his crush on a boy in one of his classes and your hopes were shattered. He claims he’s bi, but you have yet to witness him actually having a crush on a girl. Either way, you quickly discovered that he certainly does not have feelings for you. “Taehyung, on the other hand, doesn’t have an excuse for the shit he does. And it doesn’t help that he’s always purposely doing things to pick on me.”

“Maybe he does have a reason.”

“I doubt it. He’s just an asshole.” You conclude there at the sound of the door opening, Jungkook walking out to rearrange the seats to face the screening wall. Sooyun tenses when he enters, but plays it off quickly. Not before you notice, however.

“He’s not the worst of them, though. We’ve met some pretty horrible guys.” She jokes, trying to speak a little quieter now that Jungkook is within earshot.

“Maybe we’ll have better luck with guys in college. Maybe I’ll like someone who is actually into girls and maybe you’ll find someone who isn’t-“ your best friend. Not that it’s a bad thing. You stop yourself from saying it out loud, remembering how you weren’t going to say anything about the two of them unless she decided to bring it up. She doesn’t seem to notice your slip up. “I heard that most people meet their soulmate in college.”

“Please, I’d be lucky if I find 1 guy that’s interested in me. I have terrible luck with men.” Jungkook looks up from behind her, quickly looking away once he catches your gaze. Yup, something definitely went down between the two of them. You haven’t figured out if it was a good or bad thing yet.

“You’re a smart girl with an amazing smile, I’m sure there will be men falling over you once you get there in the fall.” There’s still uncertainty in her eyes and she avoids yours by opening the hood of the grill again and checking on the food. It looks mostly done so you grab a plate and wait for her to pile them on. You keep looking back at Jungkook over her shoulder, he seems distracted and that’s probably because he’s been listening in on your conversation. The idea of Sooyun going away to college and meeting other people seems to bother him and you wish she would just turn around and see that. But she doesn’t.

“Sure, I might be pretty for high school standards, but I doubt I’ll look all that special to anyone in my first year. I’ll have to wait for my ‘glow up’ before anyone even looks at me.”

“Shut up, you’re beautiful.” Before you can even open your mouth to reassure her, Jungkook’s voice sounds from behind. He says it so confidently, like it’s the only thing he’s certain of in his life, and when you both turn to look at him, he meets her eyes as if to say that what he’s just spoken is the truth. And then his eyes return back to his work.

Sooyun looks frozen in place, no longer looking at him but staring off into space, her hand still holding firmly onto the poker she was using to remove the food. “Hello?” You wave a hand over her face, concerned by how it looks like she’s having war flashbacks behind her eyes, teeth biting down hard on her bottom lip and chest heaving. What on earth was she thinking about? “Sooyun, are you in there? The food is burning!”

“Huh?” This seems to snap her out of it and she blinks rapidly a few times before turning back to the grill and cursing at the sight of burning food. You want to ask her about it, but telling from the mortified look on her face, she probably doesn’t want to talk.

A few minutes later, everyone is settled in a seat, snacks distributed along the coffee table for convenience within everyone’s reach. You reach for a bag of snacks, after the first 10 minutes of the movie after eyeing them since they got there, and since nobody claimed them yet, you decided it was yours for the taking. You lean forward slowly, as not to cause too much of a distraction, but just before your fingers reach the wrapper, a longer pair close around it and pull them out of reach. You lock eyes with none other than Kim Taehyung, who seems to freeze when he realizes his mistake, but he doesn’t offer them to you like any of your other friends would. Instead, he slowly begins to open the bag while making eye contact with you through the darkness.

“Don’t you dare.” You mouth at him, watching as he reaches his fingers into the bag and pulls out a large handful of the treats, shoving them into his mouth and crunching loudly. “You bastard, those were mine!” You try to whisper your rage as quietly as possible, but everyone hears you anyway.

He holds the bag up to his face, inspecting it from all angles before looking at you with an innocent look on his face. “I don’t see your name on it.”

“You saw me reaching for them.”

“You should have moved a little faster, I couldn’t tell what you were reaching for.”

“Not everyone has alien fingers like you.”

“Well, not everyone has baby hands like you.”

“Guys!” Namjoon interjects, cuddled up with Hoseok between you two. “Why can’t you just share?”

“I don’t think he knows what the word “share” means.” You narrow your eyes at Taehyung, who is still munching on your snacks.

“Why don’t you just take the bigger bag?” Someone suggests, directing your attention to the large family sized bag of the same snack in the middle of the table. If you open that bag, you’ll eat until it’s empty and you’ve gained 10 pounds. No thanks.

“I don’t want that one. It’s too big,”

“That’s what she said.” Tae snickers, pleased by the flames that flare up behind your eyes. “Fine, I’ll give it back.” After sinking his hands into the small bag for 2 more enormous handfuls, he tosses it back to you across the table and watches with a mischievous glow as you pick it up and peek inside.

“It’s empty.” As expected. You’re seething, though, speaking through your teeth as you try to get your rage under control. You sit the bag down gently, reaching for a bag of candy instead, and out of the corner of your eye you see him lean forward too, but this time there’s a deadliness in your gaze that makes him retreat with a boxy, almost sheepish grin.

Your attitude continues throughout most of the movie, angrily stuffing gummies into your mouth as you try to get over how petty Taehyung is. He’s so childish, taking a snack that you were clearly going for and eating it in front of you, adding insult to injury by handing you an empty bag. How old is he anyway: 6? He’s so frustrating sometimes, you just want to go over there and slap some sense into him.

“Are you still pouting over those snacks?” Hobi asks once he looks over and sees your bent up expression. “It’s not that big of a deal.” He laughs.

He’s right, it’s not that much of a problem. You’re just making it into one. Upon closer reflection, you realize how childish you must look to all of your other friends. Sure, Tae purposely tried to get on your nerves and it worked, but it always works. You always argue and throw a fit when things don’t go your way, and the more you watch the movie, the more clearly you see that. A character in the film started off as the annoying girl who complained about everything and thought the world was out to get her, when really, it was just her outlook on things and reactions to minor inconveniences that made situations worse. Everyone could see it, it was painfully obvious, and you begin to see a similarity to her in yourself. Did you act like this with Taehyung? Were you the petty one who exploded over the smallest inconveniences or discomfort around him? Yes, he can be an asshole sometimes, but there is a more adult way to deal with him. You were just talking to Sooyun about being adults, yet here you are, pouting over a bag of snacks that you could literally get in a bigger size across the table all because you wanted that specific one and now you’re upset because somebody else took it. When you look at it from an outside point of view, you’re the one that looks silly here. This is the type of argument you would have to settle if you were babysitting a group of elementary schoolers— not one involving almost college students. And thinking back to previous arguments you’ve had with him over the years, it’s always been like that. That’s not to say that Tae wasn’t also in the wrong, but maybe you could handle his immaturity in a different way other than bringing out your own.

You feel like your underlying issues stem from the lack of reinforcement and consequences you received for your behavior as a child when you would act out around other children, and it is your parents’ fault for not teaching you the appropriate way to deal with things like this, but that’s too deep of an introspection for you at this point in the story. And you can’t be your own therapist. Self reflection and awareness doesn’t happen all at once, people. That shit takes time.

The rest of movie night is surprisingly enjoyable. The movie you all agreed on is corny and definitely not your usual genre, but you enjoy it no less and find yourself fully engaged by the end of it. A cool breeze blows by and you burrow into a blanket, shifting to be comfortable during the last few scenes of the movie. When it ends, you’re the first one to offer to clean up, not even realizing that Yoongi had already started. It’s pretty late, almost midnight actually, so as soon as everything is back in it’s rightful place, everyone heads up to their rooms for the first night at the lake house.

Your rooms each hold one (1) unreasonably comfortable King sized bed, in which you were expected to share with your roommate. Great. Taehyung skips out on clean up a little early and you walk into the room to find him sprawled out in nothing but loose shorts and a t-shirt. It’s clear he’s going commando, you can see the outline of his dick all the way from where you stand on the other side of the room— not that you were looking. If you took the time to really look at him, he’s actually pretty hot. His pretty, brown, slightly wavy hair swoops down to cover his intense eyebrows, partially concealing his expression as he stares down at the phone in his large hands. The profile of his face is gorgeous, beautifully shaped nose, pillowy lips, and a sharp jawline his defining features, even his eye shape is endearing. Objectively, some people would say he’s very attractive, you’ve heard many girls refer to him as the most handsome man they’ve ever seen, but you don’t think you’d go as far as saying such bold statements. Not when his personality overshadows his looks.

“Why are you taking up most of the bed already?” You huff, walking over to your luggage to gather your pajamas. “Do I have to fight you for bed space too?”

“No, I’ll respect your half of the bed.” He gives in easily, scooting over a bit to demonstrate his honesty. You look up at him.

“You better, I can get pretty aggressive at night in bed.”

“Mm, kinky.” He winks, not missing the opportunity to be inappropriate.

“That’s not how I meant it.” You’re flustered slightly for some reason, hating how he always knows just what to say to get a reaction out of you. Then you pause and take a look at yourself. A mature person would just brush him off and mind their business instead of encouraging him. So that’s what you try to do. “Whatever, I’m going to go take a shower.”

Without another word, you strut into the bathroom, ready to wash away this day. While under the warm stream of water, you think about the day and how you acted. Nothing bad happened to you. The only thing is that you were paired with an idiot, and from what you gathered, it was because everyone wanted you to talk out your problems and actually get along for once. But you dragged that one little “issue” with you all day and it prevented you from enjoying yourself to the fullest on your first day of this short vacation. You wouldn’t have done anything differently if you weren’t as upset, you’re still pretty reserved, but your negative mood certainly put a damper on things. And Taehyung really didn’t do anything wrong either. Maybe you’ve been treating him harshly for no reason. He acts the same around everyone, you’re the only one who takes it personally. Maybe you owe him an apology.

“Hey,” You start softly, stepping out of the steamy bathroom fully clothed and ready for bed. “Are you okay with me not wearing a bra? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or anything.” You weren’t really asking him because even if he said “no” you still wouldn’t sleep with a bra on, but you just wanted to be courteous. He seems surprised by your sudden consideration of his comfort level.

“Oh. Um, y-yeah that’s fine.” His brows shoot up behind his bangs when he looks at you, clearly struggling to keep his eyes on your face. You sport a loose t-shirt and a small pair of shorts, short enough to hide under the hem of your shirt and show off the curve of your ass. You weren’t expecting to room with him, or any of the other guys for that matter, so you weren’t very mindful when packing your sleepwear.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You hide a smirk behind an inquisitive purse of your lips.

“Yes, what you wear does not matter to me.” He stresses with a straight face, but you see through it.

“Yeah? Cuz your thin shorts say otherwise.” His hands immediately shoot to his crotch, hiding the snake in his pants that only seems to grow the longer you’re in front of him. You would find it flattering if you didn’t find him completely repulsive.

“I think you know by now that it doesn’t take much for me to get hard. It’ll go away in a minute.” He doesn’t look the slightest bit embarrassed when you climb into bed beside him, using the mountains of pillows provided to build a fort down the center of the bed to clarify your individual sides. “Wow, you have zero trust in me.” He laughs. But his laugh dies down you you look up at him seriously, probably anticipating you to throw a snarky, kinda offensive comment his way.

“I owe you an apology.”

“...For what?” He looks very confused and startled, not at all expecting those words to come out of your mouth.

“For being such a bitch to you. Not just today, but basically every day since we met.” You feel like you should go on, but you don’t know what else to say. “You’re a prick but you’re not as terrible as I make you out to be.”

“Thanks, I guess.” Taehyung doesn’t seem convinced, waiting for you to do or say something mean, but your words end there. “Is that it?”

“Yes, that’s it. Were you expecting me to write a whole essay on how badly I treat and misjudge you?” He’s taken aback, but not shocked by the edge in your voice. “Zoe said she wants me to try to get along with you, so I’m trying. Earlier you asked me for a truce over the weekend and I didn’t say anything. Well, this is me formally telling you that I accept; I will attempt to tolerate you and hold my tongue as much as I can for the sake of the others.”

“How do I know you’re being serious right now?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t serious. I don’t talk out of my ass like you tend to do; if I said it, I meant it.” You reel yourself back in when you hear how harsh you sound. “Sorry.” Did you always sound like this when you spoke to him? It’s like you’re a completely different person.

“Hmm,” He considers, eyeing you up and down. “Yeah, okay. But in order for this to work, you actually have to be nice to me for once. Do you think you’re capable of that?”

Biting your tongue, you force yourself not to roll your eyes. “I said I’ll try.”

“Good enough!” The boxy smile that crosses his lips is absolutely adorable, but you push that thought aside as soon as it enters your mind to avoid cooing at him. “Well, if you’re trying to be nicer, I guess I’ll try not to tease you so much. Usually I just do it because it’s fun, but sometimes I do feel bad about irritating you so much. You’re just so easy to pick on.”

“You have a conscience? Who would’ve thought.” You giggle, pushing pastel hair out of your eyes, and he stares at you wide eyed until you stop laughing. “I get it, I’m not funny.”

“No, no, it’s not that.” He quickly says, raising a hand defensively. “I’ve just never seen you giggle... at me before.”

“Because you’re not funny.”

“Others would beg to differ.”

“Like who?”

“Jimin. Jungkook. Jin.” He lists off a few others from school, names that you’d rather forget, and you stop him after a short while.

“Okay, I get it. But they don’t count, they’ll laugh at anything.” You lean against one of the pillows between you two, elbow supporting your weight as you move a little closer to him. His phone is forgotten now, cast aside now that your full attention is on him.

“Do you remember that one time me and Jin did that comedy skit in the talent show last year?” He’s already laughing at the memory, the melodious sound bringing a smile to your face when you think back to that cringeworthy performance. “Everyone thought we were funny then.”

“Yeah, because you’re both wannabe actors and failed comedians.”

“I wouldn’t say we failed. Doesn’t matter how terrible we were— got everyone to laugh didn’t we?” He has a point, one that you can only shake your head to in disbelief. This is weird— having a conversation with him that doesn’t involve yelling, arguing, or personal insults. You could even say that you sound like friends reminiscing about the past. The conversation continues on like this, bringing up the few good memories you’ve made that involve him, which, as it turns out, aren’t as few as you thought, and you begin to realize that you don’t hate him. It feels like you’re getting to know each other for the first time, you’re learning things about him that you hadn’t picked up even in the 4 years of knowing him. But he seems to know a lot about you. Now you truly feel like a terrible friend.

“It’s getting late.” You say with a yawn, checking your phone lazily from its spot on the charger. You’ve been talking to him for over an hour already.

“Yeah, we should probably go to sleep.” Tae says, voice even deeper than normal. The bass sends chills up your spine and you tell yourself it’s because you can feel the vibrations through the air and mattress. “Wait, I have something to give you.”

“What is it?” You look at him skeptically as he hops off the bed and rummages through his bag. You can’t imagine what it would be, but there’s a pit of anxiety in your stomach. It could be anything.

“These. I felt bad about earlier.” He sheepishly scratches the back of his neck as he returns to his side of the bed after handing you the snack you wanted during the movie. It’s a small bag, one meant for a single person and not a whole house of people like the one left out on the coffee table for the group, and you take it gingerly, almost too shy to thank him. The fact that he thought of you enough to get another bag for you blew your mind, especially since he didn’t know that you were going to apologize to him tonight. You could have kept acting like a complete asshole to him and he probably would have still felt bad and gave them to you. You most likely wouldn’t have done the same for him if the roles were switched. God, how shallow are you? Maybe there’s a reason people actually choose to be his friend.

“You didn’t have to.” You place them on the bedside table next to you, for a later time, and he acknowledges this.

“Yeah, but that was a dick move on my part and I wanted to make up for it. If you don’t want them, I’ll gladly eat them in front of you again.” His signature grin plasters itself to his face once more and you feel a little more comfortable now that he isn’t being genuine anymore. That’s uncharted territory between the two of you and you’re still a bit rocky with the friendly exchanges. But you’ll get there. For now, though, you roll your eyes at him and turn out the light, sinking into the cozy mattress and high thread count sheets.

Waking up next to Taehyung wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. The sun is barely up, not yet above the trees but high enough to brighten the sky, and the wide-set windows let in as much light as possible. It wakes you and brings your attention to the glowing man next to you, all messy hair and wrapped around most of your pillow fort, but you aren’t filled with resentment at the sight of him. You find it kind of cute actually. You’ve never seen him asleep before— he looks so peaceful— and you don’t want to disturb that peace, so you crawl out of bed slowly and silently, pull on some real clothes and make your way out of the house.

The lake is absolutely stunning. The water reflects every ray of light present to give off a shimmering, glittery effect that nothing else could replicate. You sit at the edge of the water on a lawn chair you pulled over from the patio, back facing the lake house as you look off into the distance, recreating the image of the landscape across from you in your notebook with a steady hand. You wish you had brought your paints with you and an easel, the colors that seep into the sky over the trees is absolutely indescribable and you want nothing more than to capture it with your own hands on paper. You don’t even have your colored pencils, so you are left with a black and white rendition of the scene, your imagination, and a reference picture for later.

The nature is perfect for your creative mind, you’ve never felt more inspired in your life. When you first woke up, you tried your hardest to fall asleep, but after one glance out of the window, your mind started buzzing with inspiration to make art and you could no longer rest, that’s how you ended up out here, fighting tiredness to be present in the moment and capture it forever. Being out here alone doesn’t feel dangerous, Yoongi was awake and in the kitchen when you were leaving and you told him where you would be in case anything happened. You wanted to ask if he slept well or if he even needed to sleep at all, but you weren’t sure how he would react to your questioning and it seemed rude so you kept your mouth shut. Out here in the partial darkness, you feel totally comfortable and at peace. It’s silent aside from the leaves and wildlife shifting around you, birds chirping their morning song, and it’s such a nice soundtrack that you don’t even need the music in your headphones to focus on your art.

On the other hand, though, now you are alone with your thoughts and the guilt that’s been building ever since your self revelation last night. Talking to Taehyung really made you realize something: that you are probably the most stubborn person you’ve ever met. You’ve carried your first impression of him throughout your entire friendship— if you can even call it that— and no matter how much he’s shown you that he isn’t the person you made him out to be, you refused to believe it and give him a chance. You told Sooyun that the reason you didn’t like Tae was because you didn’t understand him, but now you see that it was because you never attempted to understand him in the first place. You gave Jimin a chance, after hearing about his hardships, but you weren’t willing to do the same for Taehyung. You knew nothing about him. And you ignored every good thing he’s ever done and instead highlighted all of his stupid decisions that any other teenage boy would make.

Sitting here alone, you decide this is the perfect time to continue your introspection and self evaluation. Most things that you’ve experienced negatively are a consequence of your own actions. Taehyung is always a boisterous, playful soul, even when you aren’t around, and you used to think that the reason why you didn’t get along was because your personalities were incompatible. But you’re starting to notice that it was your own attitude toward him that made you think that way. You saw him in your first year in high school goofing off during P.E. and assumed that he was always like this, which is not entirely untrue. Then he made one somewhat offensive comment and that set the tone for how you would see him up until this point.

“Why do you always stand off to the side and just watch? I think the game would be much more fun if you actually participated in it.” He said this with a goofy smile directed at you, who was placed firmly at the sidelines and quite content with your lack of involvement. In hindsight, he wasn’t even trying to be mean, it was an honest observation, but you took it the wrong way. He was probably trying to nicely convince you to join the action, yet your previous assumptions about him caused you to take offense to everything that came out of his mouth, and your spectators didn’t make it any better.

Everyone around you chuckled at his little comment, adding in their own judgements of you, like how you’re just the weird girl who likes to draw people or how you rarely even spoke so he shouldn’t expect you to willingly physically play with others, and those comments hurt. Not that you cared about what anyone thought of you anyway, that’s why you continue to be the way you are, but the fact that all eyes were on you, that everyone noticed you and thought negatively of your character, was like a stab in the heart. You had never done anything wrong to any of them, yet that’s how they felt about you.

“Yeah? Well at least I’m not a ball hog. Maybe you should let other players have a chance to score, you’re not even that good. And I’m seeing that off the bench.” Your sassy remark earns a collective “ooooh” from the teens who have since stopped the game. Taehyung didn’t seem fazed though.

“Says the person who has yet to step foot on the court. Maybe we would be able to score more points if all of the players on our team were actually present.” You flip him off and the gym teacher sees, breaking the two of you up before you cause any more of a disturbance than you already have. Up until this point, the people in your class hadn’t even heard you speak before, but this one altercation earned you a reputation of being the weird art kid with a bad attitude, and people steered clear of you. And you blamed it all on Tae, even if it was buried in your subconscious mind.

What you didn’t know was that behind the scenes he defended you when others would talk behind your back. He always invited you to play or picked you to be on his team and you just assumed it was because he wanted you nearby so he could pick on you, but it never once crossed your mind that he actually wanted to befriend you. Even when you did become friends, you always thought he had the worst intentions in mind whenever he interacted with you. In reality, you’re always the one that starts arguments, he’s just returning your energy. His own actions, however, show a different side of him that you forced yourself to ignore. Taehyung always made sure that you weren’t being left out and that you were comfortable, even when you cursed at him and told him to go away or leave you alone. It was always him that looked out for you.

“You’re up early.” A deep voice sounds behind you among the rustling summer leaves and you turn to face a sleepy looking Taehyung, who drags another lawn chair behind him as he walks. His hair is messy and there are bags under his eyes, but the light hits him in a way that makes him look almost angelic. You shake that thought away almost immediately.

“So are you.”

“The sun woke me up. And then I realized you weren’t in bed anymore, so I got up and went looking for you. Yoongi told me you were out here.” He sits a respectable distance away from you, far enough where you won’t complain, and he gazes out at the scenery you’re more than halfway done sketching. You sit in silence for a while, surprised that he even has the capability to be quiet for longer than a minute, and you watch the sun rise together. “What are you doing out here so early?”

“Drawing.” You lift your notebook up slightly and he acknowledges with a nod, although it was pretty obvious. “And thinking.”

“You’re drawing the sunrise? But you only have a pencil.” He points out, leaning over the side of his chair to see your artwork better. You shift it away from his line of sight out of habit, but correct yourself quickly.

“I’ll draw the shadows and outlines here and color it once I get back home.” By the short answers you give him, he can tell you’re not in a talking mood, but he’s never deterred by something like that so he keeps questioning.

“Hm. What were you thinking about? You seem rather... pensive.”

“Do you even know what that word means?” You snort, looking at him for the first time since he sat down.

“In fact, I do. I heard it in a movie once and used context clues to figure it out.” He seems proud of himself so you humor him. “So, what’s on your mind?”

“I was thinking about you.” Your eyes meet for a moment before you turn away, but it’s enough to see the shock on his face.

“Me?”

“Well, kinda. I realized something last night— that I’m a judgy, stuck-up bitch when it comes to you and I severely underestimated your character.” Running a hand through your pastel hair, you sigh, looking over the water. “I created this entirely different image of you in my head based on a few first impressions, and I was too stubborn to change that image after we became friends. I always treated you like you were some inconsiderate fool that did whatever, whenever, and didn’t give a damn about anyone else-“

“Gee, thanks.”

“-But now I realize that I had absolutely no evidence that you were that type of person and that I just pretended you were an like that to justify being rude to you. Which makes me the monster.” Bringing your eyes back down to your paper, you try to distract yourself by finishing your piece, but you feel lost. “It’s gotten to the point where I don’t even know how to talk to you anymore without being mean.”

“You’re not a monster.” Taehyung’s voice is gentle now, though still deeper than usual, and it sends shivers up your spine. “I totally get that you don’t really like me, not everyone does. It’s my fault for always bothering you,”

“No, you’re not supposed to be the one apologizing. You’re playful and you make an effort to have fun with me like you do with everyone else, I’m the one that always took it too seriously.”

“Faye, it’s fine. Really. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“Yes, I do, Tae. I’m sorry for being a horrible friend.”

“You really don’t need to apologize.”

“Okay, but I’m still sorry that I treated you like that.”

“It doesn’t matter, stop apologizing.”

“It does matter, I’m a terrible person.”

“You’re not! You are literally one of the nicest people I have met.”

“Except for the fact that I’m terrible to you.”

“You meant well.”

“I really didn’t. I actually hated you for the longest time. I’m so sorry.”

“Stop saying you’re sorry!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Stop!”

“No! Just let me feel bad about myself for once and accept that I’m the bad guy!” Both of you are silent for a minute, frowning at each other. “See, I can’t even apologize properly without arguing with you.” You bring a palm to your face tiredly, frustrated with yourself.

“I’ll accept your apology if that’s what you need to hear. But I honestly don’t think you did anything wrong. Sure, we might bicker like a married couple, but we’re still close, and that’s what I value the most.” He resolves and you both stare back out into the calm water until you speak up again.

“...Did you just compare us to a married couple?” In the brightening daylight, you can see the faint traces of a blush crawl onto his cheeks, his eyes widening slightly paired with a boxy smile.

“You know what I mean. I didn’t want to say we are like preschoolers because I thought that was a little offensive.”

“I’m more offended by the married couple analogy and its implications. I’d rather be a toddler.” You joke. Something weird crosses Taehyung’s face for a split second, but before you can address it, it’s gone.

“So are we good now?” He asks, sighing in his seat. You close your notebook, making a move to stand and turn to the lake house.

“I don’t know. That’s up to you.” He looks up at you before standing as well, folding his chair.

“Yeah, I think we’re okay- as long as you don’t try to apologize again.” He’s grinning now, looking a little more awake than before, and you try not to stare into his glowing eyes. What has gotten into you? You nod in agreement.

“Let’s head inside, it looks like some of the others are up for breakfast.” A large window leading into the dining room is in full view from your spot by the lake and you can clearly see Zoe, Jin, and Hobi sitting around the table. You assume Jimin, Jungkook, and Namjoon are still asleep, where you currently long to be, and make a decision as you walk back up to the house. Food or sleep? You choose the latter and head back up to your room to catch a few more winks of sleep, requesting to Yoongi that he save you a plate. Taehyung takes a seat at the table.

“Morning.” He greets, resting his head on the table once Yoongi informs him that breakfast is almost ready.

“Spending some extra time with your girl, Tae? Was last night not enough?” Hoseok nudges him in the side, grinning hard at his own teasing.

“You and Faye are dating?” Yoongi comes into the room with hot plates filled with delicious food, setting them down in front of everyone.

“No. We were just talking like normal human beings. Nothing happened last night and she is not my girl.” He clarifies sternly, fearful that you might be able to hear the conversation and will come running for his throat if he even implied something like that.

“You and Faye, talking, not screaming at each other? That’s new.” Jin comments, already digging into his food. He calls Yoongi to join them at the table, patting the empty seat on the other side of him.

“Yeah, last night it looked like she was about to rip his head off.” Hobi laughs, shoveling food into his mouth like he hasn’t eaten in years.

“See, I told you being roommates would help you work out your differences.” Zoe seems proud, smiling at Taehyung like a mother would after she has just been proven right.

“First of all, that was my idea.” Jin pouts, but she just keeps eating. The smell of food must have pulled Jimin out of his slumber and lured him to the dining room because a moment later he stumbles in, eyes still half closed and face still puffy with sleep. He doesn’t even greet anyone, just sits and asks where the food is. Yoongi brings him his plate before anyone can even answer and Jimin stares a little longer than normal as the android gracefully makes his way back over to his spot across the table.

“Are you the chef or something?” He asks, confused, but nobody pays attention to him.

“So, what did you guys talk about?” Zoe pries at Taehyung, interested in how you’ve bonded.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Jimin turns to his best friend, eyeing the tired, yet happy look on his face.

“Faye and I talked last night and this morning.” He smiles.

“Talked? Not argued?”

“That’s what I said!” Jin exclaims, though he quiets down to let Tae speak.

“I think we really got a lot closer.” He explains how you apologized out of the blue last night and actually held a real conversation with him, and also how you opened up about why you always were mean to him this morning. The whole time he spoke, everyone paid close attention, astonished by how much progress the two of you made in less than 12 hours.

“Wow, I’m so proud of you guys.” Hobi claps. “When I didn’t hear you arguing last night, I assumed she either killed you, or you were fucking.”

“Fucking? She would never.” Tae refutes immediately.

“But you would?” Jimin questions with a raise of his eyebrow, catching his friend off guard.

“W-What?”

“The sexual tension is there. All that anger and frustration must make for some amazing sex.” Jimin leans back in his chair, cheeks full and glowing.

“Angry sex is the best, right Jin and Zoe? Oh right, you two wouldn’t know.” Hoseok teases cruelly, both of their faces burning bright red. Just then, Namjoon and Sooyun walk down, Sooyun glancing quickly around the table before sighing in relief at a certain boy’s absence. “Right babe?”

“Huh?” Namjoon takes a seat next to his boyfriend, waiting to be filled in.

“Angry sex is the best, right?”

“Absolutely.” Namjoon winks, his dimples coming out when the others just shake their heads.

“You should try it sometime, Tae. Might clear up some of those unresolved issues between the two of you.” Jimin points his chopsticks at him and Tae looks away in embarrassment. “You can’t tell me you’ve never thought about it before.”

“Can we just- not talk about this right now.” For the first time, your group of friends see a bashful side of the infamously carefree Taehyung. Sooyun and Namjoon want to ask what’s going on, but Tae pleads to end the conversation there, so the topic changes to something else and the day moves forward.

The sun scorches down on you as you sit by the lakeside in your bikini, applying sunscreen to protect from what seems like an inevitable sunburn. The boys are already in the water, jumping from the dock into the surprisingly clean lake— one of the wonders of privately own property. Sooyun can’t swim and you don’t really feel like getting in the water just yet, so the two of you chill where it’s dry and have a little chat. You catch her up on what’s been going on between you and Tae, she was still curious from breakfast, and she applauds your maturity.

“Wow, it seems like you really had a self-growth moment. Does this mean that you and Tae are cool now?”

“I guess? It still feels weird though. I spent so much time ignoring him, you know, and now it’s hard to change my view on him so suddenly.” You’re used to listening to other people’s drama and not saying or doing much, always the spectator, but now that something is actually going on in your life, it’s a bit awkward being the center of attention.

“He seemed really happy about your bonding time this morning, I think it was really unexpected for him when you opened up like that. Usually you only really open up to me.”

“He was talking about it at breakfast?” For some reason you’re irritated by this, or embarrassed, you can’t really tell the difference anymore.

“Yeah,” She laughs when you glare at him in the water. “He didn’t say anything bad though, don’t worry. Looks like he’s been waiting for a chance to prove himself to you for a very long time.” Your eyebrows scrunch up as you think about what she could mean by that. Was he really trying that hard to be your friend and you were the only one who misinterpreted his actions? It seems like it.

“I need your opinion on something.” You start a little quieter, making sure that no one will overhear. “Why do you think he picks on me so much? I know that’s how he usually is, but he does it so much more when I’m around.” You know she’ll give you a straight answer, she never minces her words.

“I believe he originally started doing it because that’s the only way he could get you to pay any attention to him and he wanted you to notice him. If he isn’t saying or doing anything dumb, you pretend like he’s not even there. He probably just wanted to catch your eye and then build from there but you never let him, and then he eventually got used to playing that role with you.”

“Okay, so why do you think it bothers me so much?” It sounds stupid to ask someone else about how you feel about something or why you feel a certain way, but you honestly don’t know what to make of the situation.

“Simple. I think when you first met, you saw him and expected him to be someone you could befriend and trust, but he hurt your feelings one time so you just went full defensive and decided to hate everything that comes out of his pretty little mouth. I’ve seen you do it before, Faye. Remember that kid in history? The one we did the project with?”

“Ugh, her.”

“You thought she was going to be the nicest person, but when we started working with her, you realized she was-“

“A bossy, know-it-all, who had a stick up her ass 24/7 and put in minimal effort to the group project. And then had the nerve to take all the credit for it.”

“Right. Well, she didn’t live up to your expectations and now you hate her, it’s as easy as that. That’s kind of a thing you do.”

You grimace, hearing this for the first time. She’s right, you do have a history of shunning people because they weren’t as great as you expected them to be, and Taehyung is a primary case of that. “Damn, I really am terrible.” You mumble with a frown.

“No, I think that’s actually a good defense mechanism because you’re obviously better at avoiding people that might hurt you in the future. But Taehyung is good, he didn’t do anything wrong, you should take a chance on him. I can tell he means a lot to you, only people you care about have the ability to get to you like this.”

She really does know you better than you know yourself. “You’re so wise.”

She takes a sip of her cold drink, eyes following your other friends as they splash around in the water. Yoongi stands with his feet in the water, something you weren’t aware that he could do, and he seems to enjoy watching the antics of the others. Taehyung is smiling wildly as Jimin splashes him and attempts to show off his swimming skills. You catch sight of Jungkook who stands at the top of a small hill where a rope is connected to a tree over the water. He waits until Sooyun is looking before he jumps, making Tarzan noises as he swings gracefully in the air, making his landing with a big splash in the water. She giggles beside you silently, straightening her face again when he resurfaces.

“What was going on with you last night during the movie?” You bring up, suddenly reminded of her odd behavior the night before.

“What do you mean?”

“You seemed really jumpy and zoned out, like, the entire time, then you suddenly got up and went to the kitchen with Jungkook and never came back.”

“Correction, he followed me into the kitchen, we did not go ‘together’.” You roll your eyes at her.

“Whatever. I just wanna know if anything went down while you were in there. Jungkook seemed pretty flustered when he came back out.” Imitating one of Taehyung’s signature moves, you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively, laughing when she pushes your shoulder.

“Stop it! Nothing happened, we just talked a little and then I went to bed after Taehyung came in.”

“Ah, the original cock blocker.” You shake your head, not even surprised that his air-headed ass barged in and ruined a possible moment. “Are you going to tell me why you’re being so awkward with him?”

“I’m n-“

“OH! Can I guess what happened?” You seem excited so she entertains you.

“I will neither confirm nor deny anything you say.”

“I don’t care, I just think it’s fun to guess.” She sighs and you move on. “Hmm, let’s see. He forgot your birthday and now you hate him?” No... “He walked in on you naked?” No reaction. “You got drunk and played a game of strip poker and accidentally gave him a boner?”

“Oddly specific...”

“Hey, you never know,” You shrug. “It definitely has to be something sexual though, I don’t think anything else would make you this awkward around each other.” Her face remains blank. “You kissed?” Nothing. “Did you guys fuck or something?” The tiniest muscle in her bottom eyelid twitches and you’re sharp enough to detect it, gasping loudly in shock. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny.” She repeats in a steady voice, but you can feel the heat coming off of her face from here.

“I know you better than that, you don’t have to say anything. Whatever it is, I won’t judge you, but I can see there’s something going on between you two. We don’t have to talk about it, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I’ll just take satisfaction in the fact that I figured it out before anybody else.” The pleased smile on your face let’s her know that she can’t even try to convince you that you’re wrong. You’re smarter than that and she might end up digging a hole for herself if she says anything further, so she just sighs deeply and looks off into the water. Her and Jungkook would definitely make a cute couple.

“I think Taehyung is calling you.” She elbows your arm, pointing at said man emerging from the water, hair dripping and feet slapping the cool ground with every approaching step. He comes to stand right in front of you and you feel it’s a compromising position— with your face eye level with his dick and all— so you lift your foot and push him away with a gentle heel to the gut.

“You’re dripping on me.” You complain when he shakes his hair like a wet dog. “What do you want?”

“Come swim for a little while, the water is perfect.” You look over at Sooyun, who pretends like she’s not paying attention to your conversation, but you can see her eyes are alight with interest. “Don’t look at her, she can’t save you from this one.” He grins when your eyes snap back to him.

“I don’t want to get in the water today, I’m perfectly fine here in the shade.”

“If you don’t do something, I’m going to pick you up and throw you off the dock.”

“Only if you want to die tonight,” You threaten.

“Come on, please?” He whines, giving you his best aegyo. You wan to vomit. “You always sit on the side and watch, I really think you’ll have more fun if you actually participate.”

“This is giving me deja vu.” You groan under your breath as he continues to pout. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll get in the lake with you if you do the rope swing.” You point to where Namjoon and Jimin are now fooling around, pushing each other to get more momentum on the swing and make a bigger splash. Jimin’s light body carries him high, it seems like he’s flying before he comes crashing down over the water. Taehyung gulps. You know he’s afraid of heights, it’s one of the only things you can tease him about, so you know it’s very likely that he won’t go through with it and you get to stay dry.

“Okay, deal.” He says before he can talk himself out of it, holding out his hand for you to shake. Staring at him skeptically, you hesitate to take his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet and head over to the hill. He holds your hand a second longer than necessary before letting go, but of course you notice.

“Yah, Taehyungie! Are you going on the swing?” Jimin calls out to him as you approach the hill, climbing up the slope until you stand at the top. If Taehyung goes through with it, you’ll jump in from here too.

“Y-Yeah.” Tae sounds uneasy as he stands near the edge, looking down at the water below. It isn’t too high up, but it’s enough to catch some height with a swing or two, and it probably looks like you’re hanging on a ledge of a massive cliff from Taehyung’s perspective.

“You don’t have to do it,” You remind, trying to hide your cocky smirk. “It’s okay if you’re too afraid.”

“No, I can do it!” He grabs onto the rope, but makes no move closer to the edge.

“You can do it! Yell out into the distance!” Jimin encourages, laughing at the worried look on his best friend’s face as he stares down at the lake. The others gather around to watch, yelling a mixture of encouragement and teasing at him.

“He’s shaking like a leaf.” Jungkook chuckles, sitting on the edge of the dock with his phone recording it all. You stand alone up there, feeling obliged to coach him through it, but at the same time not wanting to end up in the water if he succeeds.

“It’s not that bad, Tae, just swing and let go. You just watched Jimin do it.” Your hand comes up to pat his shoulder, stopping short of his skin in hesitation. Instead, you offer to give him a push.

“N-no, I can do it.” Quivering voice and all, he grips onto the rope tighter, taking one step closer to the ledge.

You all cheer for him, holding in your chuckles at the visible shaking in his knees as he bends down in preparation to jump. And then he leaves the hill with a baby hop that makes everyone snort in laughter. You watch with wide eyes as he makes it to the top of his swing and-

“ahhHHHH!” His terror rings clear in his voice, hands refusing to let go as he misses his opportunity and comes back toward you, dangling from the rope with his eyes closed. Everyone bursts into laughter, Jimin nearly drowning as he locks up in joy, holding onto the pier for support. Tae is still swinging and screaming, waiting until the rope is barely moving anymore before finally letting go and landing in a shallower part of the lake. All he hears is Hoseok’s cackling and clapping when he resurfaces, everyone on their knees with glee, including you. Your eyes are blurry with tears of laughter, an ache in your ab muscles forming as you gasp for breath. He’s embarrassed, but seeing you laugh so hard is worth it.

“That was so wimpy,” Hoseok re-enacts his screams, causing a resurgence of laughter.

“You refused to go on the rope swing too, I don’t think you’re in any position to make fun of him.” His boyfriend points out, splashing him with water.

“Yeah, but I’m not the one who’s trying to impress the girl I like.” He sticks out his tongue, earning a deadly look from Taehyung, who glances your way to make sure you hadn’t heard. Luckily, you’re just making it over to the shore and heard nothing.

“That was adorable.” You smile, feeling victorious that your plans had succeeded. “But you did lose the bet, so I’m not going swimming.”

Pouting, Tae whines his objection. “But I put in so much effort! I don’t get anything for that?”

“Alright. I’m willing to make a compromise because you did try,” You say after a second of thinking. “I won’t go swimming, but I guess I’ll get on a canoe with you, if you really want me to.” While you were getting changed in the bathroom earlier, you heard Taehyung talking about wanting to try out the canoes. He seemed so excited to get on one, you feel like you should at least grant him one wish.

Out on the water, things are more peaceful. It takes teamwork to paddle together on the small boat, steering your way around the sizable lake, and most of your journey is spent in silence. You sit in the front, back facing him and looking over at the beautiful view of everything around you. One of the reasons you agreed to do this is because you really wanted a different perspective of this place, of the lake house, to draw in your sketchbook. You want to be able to remember how pretty this place is, how close you all are right now, these times that you won’t ever get back. From the other side of the lake, you can see all of your friends having fun for probably one of the last times all together, enjoying the beautiful weather and making the most of it, and you start to feel sentimental again.

“You look pensive again, what’s up?” Taehyung’s baritone once again saves you from your thoughts, and you resume paddling slowly, refusing to look at him with your watery eyes.

“This is one of the last times that we’ll all be together as close friends like this. After this weekend, we’ll all be packing to leave for school, each in different places, and I don’t think I’m ready for this to end yet.” The sound of your paddles gliding smoothly through the water is soothing, and you allow it to calm you down a little, composing yourself enough not to sound choked up. “I can’t help but think of all the time I wasted, all the time I spent worrying about things that are basically irrelevant now, and that’s time that I can never get back.”

“You’re a pretty deep person, aren’t you?” Taehyung asks, still getting used to you talking about real things to him. It’s not unexpected, he’s just not used to being on the receiving side of your sentiments. You place your paddle beside you when you reach the middle of the lake, turning in your seat to finally face him.

“I am. I like to pretend that I’m not, but I’m starting to realize that it’s pointless. I need to learn how to be more genuine, like you.” He blinks at this, wondering where all of this is coming from. “And thank you for always forcing me to participate. I would have missed out on a lot of things if you weren’t the one to convince me to live a little more. So thanks.”

He pauses for a long time, internalizing it all. “What’s going on with you lately? This morning you wanted to apologize and now you’re thanking me? Why do I feel like there’s some type of ulterior motive behind all this?”

“I’m trying to make amends with you,” You just barely hide the harsh tone of your words. “All of this is long overdue and I wanted to get it off my chest before the end of this weekend. Do you have a problem with that?”

Tae laughs at your temper, shaking his head and looking off into the distance. “Nope, I’m sorry. Keep going.”

“No, you ruined it, it’s over now.” You huff. And just like that, your sentimental moment is cut short.

“Like I said, you didn’t do anything wrong to me, so stop apologizing and thanking me. We’re all just trying our best here, we’re in the same boat.” A goofy smirk crosses his face. “Or should I say, same canoe.”

“God, you’re worse than Jin.” You groan. A king of lightening the mood. “Uh oh, looks like Jin and Zoe are sneaking off.” The two head over to the boathouse hand in hand, looking around suspiciously for any witnesses. You notice immediately and point them out, to which Taehyung just chuckles.

“You don’t miss much, do you?”

“Some people are just incredibly easy to read.”

“Am I easy to read?” He asks, staring straight into your soul.

Apparently not, because I was wrong about you this entire time. You think, frowning at him. When you take too long to answer, he begins rocking the boat playfully while repeating his question over and over, causing you to grab onto the sides for balance. “Taehyung, stop it before we flip over! I said I didn’t want to get wet.” He stops abruptly.

“I can make you wet in a different way if you want.” His wink is what sends you, reflexively grabbing your paddle and pretending to hit him with it.

“You’re unbearable.” But you can’t stop giggling. Or blushing. Ew.

“OH MY GOD, NO, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” You hear Jungkook’s screech echo throughout the entire lake, bringing your attention to him and Sooyun backing out of the boathouse with tomato red cheeks and disgusted looks on their faces. A few moments later, Jin and Zoe follow, equally embarrassed with their heads hanging low and scowls on their lips. With that image fresh in your mind, you quickly sketch it in your notebook, creating a less detailed drawing of the lake house in just a few minutes as you float idly. Timeless memories. Tae doesn’t say anything, watching your hand work diligently at the paper with amazing accuracy, and when you’re finished, you close the book and sit it back down, looking up at him.

“We should probably head back, it’s getting hot out here.” You grab your paddle again, prompting him to turn his body the other way and begin making your way back to the dock. The attention isn’t on you when you get back, nobody is there to ask what you were talking about or make any ridiculous comments to Tae, and you’re thankful for this. You’d much rather get the tea on Jin and Zoe.

The bonfire rages in front of you, the group wrapping up the night after dinner with drinks around the fire pit. With full stomachs, all of you just sit and talk for a while, sharing laughs and stories into the night. The scent of burning wood wafts through the air and is almost enough to overpower the smell of alcohol in the cup that is handed to you.

“You’ve never been drunk before?” Jimin is relaxed in his corner of the sofa, arms spread along the top behind your shoulders. This is probably one of the first times you’ve willingly sat next to Taehyung and Jimin, sandwiching yourself between the two men to get comfortable. Taehyung was following you, who was following Jimin, who was stalking Yoongi, so the four of you found yourselves lined up on the long couch built into the fire pit area, equipped with materials for s’mores and cup holders.

“I don’t drink at all, actually.” You correct, swirling around the liquid in your glass. It looks like regular fruit juice, and you would have been fooled if you hadn’t seen Jimin spike it with vodka. “I prefer to be in control of my actions most of the time.”

“You don’t have to drink if you’re uncomfortable.” Taking a seat with her own drink in hand, Zoe gently reassures you that there is no pressure to drink tonight— everyone is just trying to have fun. Regardless of what she says, however, you’ve already decided that you want this to be your first experience with alcohol, surrounded by friends and away from anyone you might embarrass yourself in front of.

“I’m not uncomfortable.” Everyone situates themselves, music playing in the background from one of the built in patio speakers, and you feel eyes on you as you sit there, suddenly realizing that they are waiting for you to take a sip.

“I dare you to chug that whole glass.” Jimin snickers from his spot next to you, already taking swigs from his own cup. He makes eye contact with Namjoon and Hoseok, who stare at you intently. “You won’t.”

“Is that a challenge?” You pose, fire lighting up your eyes.

“Do you accept?” You’re locked in a staring contest with Jimin, his expression playful as he studies you for any signs that you’ll back out. But you stay strong.

“Hell Yeah, I do.”

“Then drink up.” He clinks glasses with you and you throw it back, opening your throat to the liquid and gulping it down as painlessly as possible. What you don’t expect is the burn, and it hurts all the way going down, stinging your throat and warming your belly as it sits heavily in your stomach. The taste is what hits you next, and your throat almost closes up when you take a breath through your nose and taste just how strong the liquor is. Your friends cheer for you as you attempt to empty the glass, eyes watering because of the burn, and when the last drop disappears into your mouth, you pull the cup away to cough and sputter.

“I gotta admit, the girl’s got heart.” Namjoon claps slowly in awe of your feat. “Me and Hoseok bet Jimin that you wouldn’t drink at all tonight, and boy were we wrong.” He digs in his pocket for cash, each of them handing the younger boy the money in disbelief.

“It hurts,” You rasp, clutching your chest. “And it tastes terrible.”

“That’s the alcohol cleansing you,” Jin raises his glass toward you over the flames. “As I always say, alcohol is the best way to disinfect yourself of a sickness.”

“I believe it; it feels like I just chugged a bottle of bleach.” Taehyung hands you a bottle of water to rinse your mouth with, trying to get rid of the rubbing alcohol aftertaste. The night moves on from here, everyone splitting off into separate conversations, and you return to your original position of sitting and silently observing. Tae hasn’t said much to you tonight, though you do notice him staring a lot. You also notice the tension building on the other couch, Zoe and Jin looking apprehensive about something and Jungkook and Sooyun awkwardly trying to talk before deciding to sneak away and go somewhere more private. You wonder if anything will happen between them while they’re away, but they still can’t look each other in the eye so it’s probably unlikely. Jin and Zoe are the next to get up and leave. The drinks keep coming and you keep drinking, even joining in on a drinking game Hoseok came up with, and soon enough your body is feeling warm and your head is light and everything seems just a little bit better.

“Are you drunk?” Taehyung asks, mood as bright as the fire that still flickers wildly in front of you.

“I don’t know, you tell me.” Everything looks slightly warped in your vision and you aren’t even sure if you’re speaking properly anymore. You aren’t blackout drunk— though slightly more than tipsy— but Taehyung keeps a watchful eye on you because you’re starting to act a little funny. Your entire face is flushed up to your ears, eyes droopy and dazed expression plastered to your cheeks. This is exactly why you don’t drink. You hate looking sloppy and acting out of character, but with Taehyung looking so amused by your easy-going side and Jimin’s arm still wrapped around your shoulders, you don’t care about being judged. The dizziness doesn’t get better with your subsequent sips and you find yourself leaning to the side, resting your head on Taehyung’s broad shoulder. Jimin removes his arm when he sees you snuggling up to him, trying his absolute best not to bring attention to it in case you come to your senses and try to fix yourself.

“Yeah, you’re definitely drunk.” Tae’s deep voice murmurs, sounding far away. All you can do is groan. “I think you’re done for tonight, I’ll go get you some more water. Jimin, do you need anything?” His friend shakes his head, turning his attention back to the android beside him, who is in the middle of telling a story you assume, and then Tae is up and walking back into the house. You frown, instead moving to lay your head on one of Jimin’s thick thighs.

As soon as Yoongi finishes telling his story, you look up to both of them and smile. “What are you smiling at?” Jimin returns your grin, eyes equally as heavy and cheeks shiny and flushed. Even though you are drunk, you can tell that he is too.

“None of your business, thickums.” Nice to see you still have your quick tongue even in your current state.

“I saw you getting cozy with Taehyung just now. I thought he said you weren’t a couple?” Yoongi’s face is upside down and curious when you look up at it from your position on Jimin’s lap, craning your head back to get a view of him, and the odd sight makes you giggle like a little girl.

“We aren’t.”

“Oh. It just seemed like you were.” He processes this for a moment before nodding.

“You’re very handsome, Yoongi, you know that?” You blurt, catching him a little off guard. You’re sure that if he could blush, he would. “It’s no wonder Jimin’s been following you around and flirting this whole time.”

“No I haven’t!” He protests loudly, glancing over at the android, who still wears a blank expression. “I just think Yoongi is interesting and I want to get to know him.”

“Yeah right, pig.” You snort, trying to hold in your laughter.

“Pig? But he’s a human. Or is that another figure of speech?”

“Nope, he’s a pig in disguise, don’t trust him.” The android seems confused by your words, but picks up on your laughing and tone of voice, eventually laughing along. You are amazed both by his ability to pick up on social queues and learn quickly and by the fact that Jimin still hasn’t realized that he isn’t a human. You could tell him the truth about Yoongi, but that would ruin the fun.

“Anyway,” Jimin chuckles nervously, trying to change the subject back to you. “You and Tae must be getting along better, I haven’t heard you cuss each other out in a while.”

“I’ve turned a new leaf and I’m trying to be nicer to him. Apparently being nice is a lot easier than acting like a jerk all the time.”

“Aw, now we can all be friends and get along again, like old times.” He pinches your cheek and your smack his hand away.

“Like old times? The only reason I was nice to him back then is because I had a crush on you, dork. Don’t you remember?” This is common knowledge, it’s a well known fact among your friends that you had a crush on him, so you aren’t embarrassed by your blabbering mouth. You are, however, shocked by his.

“Of course I remember, but what kind of person would I be if I flirted back with the girl my best friend likes?”

“What?” You sit up abruptly, almost bumping heads in your haste to return to a sitting position.

“He was crushing on you so hard back then, it was almost painful to watch. I guess you didn’t notice because you were too busy falling over me. But I can’t blame you for that.” He adds with a flirty smirk, running a hand through his hair in the way you used to love. He isn’t important right now though. All you can focus on is what he has just said to you.

“He had a crush on me? Past tense?” You want to clarify this before you go jumping to conclusions like a lunatic.

“Past, present, and future. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen the way he’s been looking at you this entire time— you of all people, who possesses all-seeing eyes and notices practically everything.” There’s a doubtful look on his face, obviously too drunk to realize he’s just spilled one of the biggest secrets Taehyung has probably ever told him. You take into account the fact that your source is pretty intoxicated, most things that come out of his mouth will probably be unreliable, but you also know that alcohol leads to #NoFilterJimin, which means that what he’s saying is most likely all true. Taehyung likes you. You open your mouth to say more, even if you haven’t thought of a question to vocalize yet, but before you can get a syllable out, a weight plops down behind you on the couch, holding out a water bottle for you to take.

“For you, m’lady.” Your hand closes around it gingerly, careful not to touch fingers with him, and he offers you a bubbly smile, your stomach doing flips. Thinking back on it— the jealousy towards barista Kai, his clinginess to you, the boner he was sporting last night— they could all be signs that he likes you. Maybe. You don’t particularly believe it, but Taehyung is a pretty good actor and you imagine it wouldn’t be hard to hide his feelings, especially since he sealed them behind the pretense of living to annoy you. And now that you realize the possibility of it, you don’t really know how to feel. Jimin offers no support, he barely knows what he’s just done, and Yoongi doesn’t know anything about your dynamic with Tae apart from what he’s seen in the past two days, so you’re on your own now, with Sooyun and Zoe nowhere in sight, most likely sorting out their own problems, and Namjoon and Hoseok making out drunkenly on the other side of the fire.

Jimin, Taehyung, and Yoongi pick up conversation easily as if nothing happened, but you can’t bring yourself to engage. Taehyung sits just a little bit closer to you, now feeling confident enough to be clingy with you like he is with the others, but your brain is still overthinking each one of his actions to determine if you should believe it or not. If you should believe that he really has feelings for you. It’s hard for you to imagine that someone you have mistreated for so long could like you in any way, but Taehyung is a stubborn one and he’s certainly persistent. If he did feel this way, you are at least thankful that he hasn’t tried to make a move on you yet. Zoe and Sooyun return, talking about their own set of problems on the far end of the other couch, and you decide not to bother them tonight.

“I think I’m gonna head in for the night. I can feel a bad headache coming and I’d rather be in bed by the time it hits.” You feel nearly sobered by now, the bottle of water and interesting news helping to pull you back to your senses.

“You’ll probably feel a little nauseous too, try not to throw up in the house or else Jin’s mom will kill you.” Jimin jokes, and you let out a fake laugh.

The man beside you seems a bit suspicious by your shift in mood— just a few minutes ago you were feeling fine, but he can’t quite put his finger on it. The guys let you leave, Tae offering to help you get to the room if you’re too drunk, but you assure him that you’re fine and leave alone. He watches you until you disappear into the house, eyes staring longingly in your direction. A heavy sinking feeling digs into his chest, sensing that something is wrong, and although he knows he didn’t do anything, it still feels like it’s his fault. Personally, he was looking to spend a few more hours with you like this, having fun and completely laid back, not yelling at him or apologizing about anything, just hanging out like real friends. The spot where your head was resting on his shoulder and chest feels empty without you and he regrets running away, wishing he would have stayed like that for a few more minutes, but he was surprised and didn’t know what to do about you touching him, so he had to remove himself from the situation. He even gave himself a little pep talk in the kitchen in preparation to deal with your snuggly drunk persona, but now the opportunity is long gone and he fears it might be gone forever.

Sleep finds you easily tonight, but your worries follow you into slumber, dreams plagued by a plot line that makes you toss and turn. In your dream, you are still drunk, but Taehyung takes care of you like a loving boyfriend would. He brings you water and snacks, helps you walk around and holds you by the hips to keep you steady, and even sits with you in the bathroom while you vomit your guts out, wiping your mouth and forehead and holding back your hair. At one point, you and him leave the lake house, walking all the way to a nearby town and ending up in a high school gymnasium where you pin him to the wall and demand that he take you right there on the bleachers. When you go to kiss him, he stops you and reveals that he put poison in all of your drinks tonight and you collapse to the floor, coughing and trying to force yourself to throw it all up. You wake up dry heaving, tumbling out of bed and into the bathroom where you empty your stomach into the toilet loudly and attempt to catch your breath. It’s the middle of the night now, so Taehyung is in bed already, and he gets up to check if you’re okay, only to be sent away from the door when he offers his help. When you emerge after a few long minutes, you find a cold glass of water on your bedside table and a sleepy boy on the other side of the pillow fort.

“Can you stop bringing it up please?” Zoe groans from her spot at the picnic table, looking like she just wants to curl up underneath it.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, babe, own it.” Jin states proudly, shoulders looking extra high this afternoon. Today is your last full day at the lake house, a gorgeous Sunday afternoon, and just as planned, you’ve set up a picnic outside by the lakeside. All day Hoseok and Namjoon have been teasing Jin and Zoe about their morning exploits, which they could hear from the other side of these thin walls. Seems like they finally found the time to consummate their relationship and get the deed done. They both seem satisfied and happy, but you’re starting to feel embarrassed for them with all the teasing.

“Okay everyone, stop targeting them, let them be happy for once.” You announce, tired of hearing about it while you’re eating. Zoe gives you a grateful look. Despite sporting a hangover, you find yourself in a pleasant mood for the most part. Last night is a little fuzzy, though not totally forgotten, but you have no negative feelings about what happened. That was a really weird dream though. There is one person that doesn’t seem to be as high spirited as usual today, however. He sits there quietly picking at his food looking quite thoughtful, if that was possible.

“What’s wrong, Tae? Hungover?” Jimin pats him on the back and this startles him. Shaking his head lightly, the taller man clears his throat, glancing at you before lowering his gaze back to his food shyly. “Did something happen?”

It’s almost funny how Jimin doesn’t realize that he was the one who caused all of this by sharing a secret to the wrong person. You hoped Taehyung wouldn’t catch on to how distant you were being this morning, keeping away from him conveniently so you could have more time to interpret your dream and dispel the awkwardness of knowing he saw you vomiting late last night, but it appears that he did notice and was taking it the wrong way. You aren’t upset with him— he wasn’t the one who did anything wrong— you just don’t know how to feel about him now. Your own feelings are jumbled up in your head and you don’t know how to sort them or even how to describe what they are. For some reason, finding out Taehyung likes you isn’t as revolting as you thought, and you’re starting to notice the little twinge you get in your heart whenever he looks at you. Do you like him? It’s starting to get ridiculous how much you’ve discovered about yourself in just one weekend. And there’s that feeling again.

You catch him staring at you, studying your body language to see if he can figure out what’s different. The weird feeling comes back the longer you look at each other, so you open your mouth to dispel the tension. “Is there something on my face or something?” Dammit, you didn’t mean for it to come out like that, and now everyone is looking at you in disappointment.

“No.” Taehyung drops his head again, and you turn to the girl beside you to find her glaring at you heatedly. Sooyun speaks with her eyes, expressing how she’s disappointed in you because she thought you were making progress- they all did. And now you have to apologize.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that.” You reply meekly, not even looking at him.

“I told you to stop apologizing to me.” He mumbles, and you roll your eyes. Your friends look between the two of you, unable to figure out what exactly is happening right now. Were you upset? Was he upset? Should they be worried?

“Did something bad happen last night? You two were doing so well yesterday.” Zoe asks in a hurt voice, almost as if the turbulence between you is her own fault and failure. Taehyung lets you answer because, frankly, he’s wondering the same thing.

“Nothing bad happened, everything is fine.” You don’t sound the least bit convincing and even you cringe when you hear yourself.

“Doesn’t seem like it.” Zoe crosses her arms over her chest, pursing her lips in that motherly way that forces you to talk.

“I-It’s just a little weird now because he saw me puking last night. It was kind of embarrassing.” You scratch the back of your neck when you feel it prickle with color, probably because of the partial lie you’ve just told.

“Is that really it?” Tae doesn’t believe you. He straightens up, narrowing his eyes to catch every change in your expression.

“Yes?” The entire table bursts into complaints, calling you out on lying, saying that they can read you like an open book, some of them defending Taehyung and arguing that you owe him an explanation for your behavior. You’ve never seen them so invested in your drama, but then again, you’ve never really had any drama before. Jin stops everyone and addresses you.

“As much as I’d love for you to spill the tea to us right here, I think you and Tae need to go somewhere private and talk it out. Seriously.” With that, you’re kicked out of the table and sent away, told not to come back until you’ve worked out your issues.

“Faye,” Twigs crunch beneath your shoes as you walk along the lake near the tree line, hands crossed at your front and eyes scanning everywhere but him. When he calls your name again, you turn to look at him, feeling your heart skip a beat once more. Why does he have to look so good at a time like this— when you’re confused and conflicted, still processing everything that you’ve learned both about him and yourself in the past few days? “Are you going to say something?”

“I don’t know what to say.” At least you’re honest.

“Okay, then I’ll start.” He takes a deep breath, eyes looking up at the sky and leaves above as he speaks. “Are you upset about something that happened last night? Did I do something? Did Jimin say something to offend you?”

“I told you, I’m just embarrassed about the whole bathroom incident,” So much for honesty. But what else are you supposed to do? Rat out his best friend for having a big mouth and accidentally confessing for him?

“But you started acting weird way before that happened. It was when I left to get water while we were at the fire pit, I know it. I just don’t know why.” You stay silent, swallowing the lump of anxiety in your throat. You don’t want to tell him, but you really want to ask if what Jimin said is true.

“I... found out that you possibly have a crush on me.” You admit slowly, looking up at his face. It contorts into confusion, then slight realization, then a mixture of humiliation and... relief? So many emotions flash across his face that you can barely keep up.

“How did you ‘find out?’” He’s stopped walking by now.

“That doesn’t matter. Is it true?” You must look somewhere between desperate and hopeful because Taehyung pauses for what seems like an eternity before bursting into laughter.

“Are you kidding?” Usually his laugh can lighten a mood, but all it does is make you more tense.

“I’m completely serious right now.”

“So am I.” The wind blows between your bodies, sounding almost deafening in the silence. “Of course I have a crush on you, how could I not? You’re everything I want in a girl from looks to charm and attitude, and no matter what you do, that’s not going to change.”

“Oh.” For one of the first times ever, Taehyung has made you speechless. There is no witty comeback or confident response to counter his attack and you truly stand at a loss for words.

“I never tried to confess to you because it was pretty clear that you didn’t even like me as a friend that much, so I spent most of my energy just trying to get you to pay attention to me in any way I could. In hindsight, I probably didn’t choose the best method.”

“So you did all that just to get my attention?”

“Well, yeah. You wouldn’t even look at me if I didn’t.” Sooyun was right, and so were all the movies. Boys really do do stupid things when they like someone. “So?”

“So, what?”

“So, how do you feel about all of this? I just admitted my feelings to you, the least you can do is give me a reaction.” His eyebrows are furrowed intensely, worry floating around the irises of his eyes. Any trace of confidence he once had has disappeared and all that’s left is anxiety that eats him from the inside.

“I don’t know how I feel. I don’t usually do this.”

“Do what?”

“Talk about... feelings.” Judging by the way you still hold a mostly neutral face, he can tell that deep down you do know. And considering how you haven’t run away in completely and utter disdain, disgust, and repulsion, he assumes that he still has a chance. “Tae, this is a lot. We only just became close yesterday.”

“But we’ve known each other way longer than that. Be honest with me, I can handle if you tell me you don’t feel the same, but I need to know.”

“I...” Fuck, why can’t you reject him? You’re immune to puppy eyes and pouting, there’s no way he could guilt you into anything this time, but you’re starting to think that you really don’t want to reject him. It’s only now that you realize how fast your heart is beating, practically leaping out of your chest in a way that’s uncharacteristic for you.

“Do you need convincing?” It sounds like a genuine question from him, but his eyes are locked on to your lips with a thirst that makes your insides quiver. You think back to the dream you had last night and how realistic your need to kiss him felt, and how badly you want to experience his kiss in real life.

“Convincing?”

“Just a little something to make your decision a little easier.” He doesn’t even realize he’s leaning in to you, tongue peeking out to wet his lips in anticipation, and you find yourself unconsciously following his lead. You should push him away now, tell him no and reject him like he’s expecting you to before this goes too far. Deep down, however, you know you can’t do that because you can feel those butterflies in your stomach the closer he gets. He stops a hair away from your lips, eyes looking down at you for confirmation— he wants you to give him a definite answer and you know he probably won’t move until he gets that from you, so you do the only thing you know will show your certainty, and dive in and kiss him.

Even though you’re the one that kissed him first, you still hesitate against his lips when he responds, but wow this feels good. It feels better than good. It feels like you’re finally doing the one thing you never knew you needed and now that it’s happening, you are filled with an inconceivable amount of gratification. His lips melt into yours, moving at the perfect rhythm and keeping you engaged, one of his hands creeping up to hold gently onto the back your neck. He’s a much better kisser than you expected— not that you’ve thought about it before— and it’s almost hard for you to pull yourself away when you feel it getting a little too heated.

“Did that help at all?” He asks with a sly grin when your eyes remain closed. They snap open, realizing that this is real life this time and not a dream, and a panic creeps up into your chest.

“No.” You’re sure he can see how heavy your breathing is, trying your best to convince yourself not to run away from him. But you do anyway. “I need- um, c-can you give me some time to think about it?”

“Oh, uh, sure.” You don’t wait up for him, giving a few nervous glances before starting off in the direction of the lake house. He doesn’t follow immediately, standing there scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. No matter what you say, you’re still the one that kissed him and he takes solace in that. Even if you don’t have the guts to face it, he now knows that you’re attracted to him in some way, and if you don’t talk ever again after this he’s fine with having kissed you at least once.

When you get back to the picnic, you don’t have an appetite anymore, so you make up an excuse and head into the woods somewhere for some privacy. You bring your sketchbook, yet you don’t draw and instead sit alone with your thoughts just staring off into space. You return about 15 minutes later feeling a little less confused, but you steer clear of Taehyung and Jimin, not wanting to talk to either of them just yet because you know Jimin will ask a million questions. Sooyun leaves you alone too, offering you the same courtesy you gave her when you didn’t force her to talk about Jungkook. This weekend has been full of uncharacteristic behavior for you but it seems like you’ve finally come to your senses and reverted back to normal. The rest of the day is spent silently observing everyone and not really engaging in anything. A few people go swimming in the lake again, but this time you decide to stay inside and watch a bit of tv to take your mind off things. Plus, you were tired of getting bug bites out by the water.

In the middle of your period of solitude, while mindlessly watching reruns of Family Feud, you come across a problem that presents itself as an eight legged creature that crawls in front of you on the coffee table, right next to your can of soda. It’s so big that you can see almost every detail of its body from where you sit on the sofa, and the scream you let out shakes the whole house. But there’s no one there to hear it. So now you’re standing on the expensive piece of furniture, yelling your lungs out while trying to get your brain to function again in order to figure out what to do. Obviously, you need to kill it. But you’re too afraid to get anywhere near that thing— let alone put your hand down there— so that’s out of the question. Your nerve completely dissolves when it starts crawling again, this time towards you, prompting you to jump off the couch and hide all the way across the room on shaky limbs. Then the solution enters.

Just then, Taehyung steps through the front door, brows knit in concern from hearing your screams. “Faye?” Despite your better judgement, you rush over to him and pull him deeper inside, clinging to his arm like he was your life line. All you can do is point to the table where the bug resides with its can of soda— there’s no way you’re going to drink out of it after this, it can have it. “Is that what all the noise is about? A spider?” He chuckles, loving the way you still hold onto him even when he steps in to get a closer look.

“Can you take care of it, please?” Almost in tears, you beg him to help, not caring about anything that’s happened before this moment. You just want it gone. And he’s the right person for the job because Taehyung has never been afraid of bugs.

He moves quickly, grabbing an empty cup and a napkin, and swiftly sweeps the spider up, walking over to the door to free it outside in the grass. It’s precious how he values life like that, although you also wouldn’t mind if he took a hammer to that thing. You thank him with red cheeks, wiping your eyes and attempting to look less like a mess. It’s quiet up until he leaves, pausing at the door after getting water from the kitchen before deciding against talking to you and leaving. You appreciate that he’s giving you space. You also appreciate how he came to your rescue even after you ran away from him earlier, that little stunt just made him a tiny bit more attractive in your eyes, much to your regret. Things seem to feel a bit lighter after that and the night ends with you making more of an effort to be casual with him.

“I call the shower,” He announces to you as you settle yourself in bed. He must be really good at acting because it appears that everything is fine to him, even though you know your indecisiveness is eating away at him on the inside. “Do you need me to check the room for spiders before I go?” He teases, eyes crinkling when you scowl at him.

“That was a moment of weakness, you can’t tease me for that.”

“I think it’s completely fair after you teased me for being scared of the rope swing yesterday.” He shuffles through his bag looking for his bathroom things, long fingers searching for the items languidly. They catch your attention, looking so long and beautiful and a sudden ache forms between you legs when you think of how they would feel deep inside you. What? Where did that come from?

“I didn’t tease you, that was Jimin and Hobi. All I did was laugh.” Your eyes follow his arms as they close his bag, a hint of a muscle peeking out under his sleeve when he lifts it to move it out of the way. And then the shirt comes off.

“Same thing.” Your mouth goes dry when you see his bare torso again, something feeling different about it from when you saw it yesterday at the lake when you were with the others. “I won’t tell anyone else about it, but if you ever see another bug while we’re here, you know who to call.” He winks, sending your stomach fluttering.

“My hero.” You disguise the heat pooling in your stomach with sarcasm, focusing hard on not letting your eyes linger on his bare skin. At the same time, Taehyung peers at you in the same way, neither of you looking at the other’s face as you lose track of what you were even talking about. If he had been looking, he probably would have seen the lust and longing in your stare. He clears his throat before you can work up the nerve to address the elephant in the room and enters the bathroom without another word, escaping the heat that engulfs the room slowly.

That kiss earlier had a bigger effect on you than you had originally anticipated. Just the sight of him shirtless is now enough to short circuit the rational part of your brain and you finally come to terms with the fact that there’s something here. You feel something towards him— something that isn’t annoyance or hate, but more like lust and deep emotion. Sooyun was right, you care about him more than you let on, and you now acknowledge that you’ve been in denial. As soon as you push through that denial, though, you feel an intense need for him to be close to you. It felt so good standing close and kissing him, it sent tingles down your body and to your core that you’ve never experienced before. And now that you know how stupid you’ve been, the sexual tension within you has reached its boiling point. You need to come clean to him.

As soon as he walks out of the steamy bathroom, he finds you staring at the door, pillow barrier now disassembled in the middle of the bed where you crawl over to the edge to sit on your knees. Your face is serious, demanding his attention because you must have something important to say. He drops his dirty clothes on his bag, turning his body and full attention to you.

“Taehyung,”

“Faye.”

“I’ve thought about what you said all day today and I know where I stand now.” Your fingers fumble in your lap but the nervousness doesn’t reach your face. “I maybe... possibly...” His eyes narrow at you and you stop yourself. “I have feelings for you. And even though you’re still an idiot and this realization is distressing for me, I have to come to terms with it.”

“That has to be the worst confession I’ve ever heard.” He chuckles, not at all taking this as seriously as you’d want him to.

“I’m not done yet.” You put up a hand, surprising him with your attitude. “I also realized that I’m horny as fuck and that this is our last night together, so I don’t want to have any regrets.”

“What are you saying?” He shifts his weight and crosses his arms, trying to control the twitch of his lips that signify his cockiness. You want to slap him.

“I’m saying that I want you to fuck me. Right now.” His sly expression no longer fazes you, his tongue poking into his cheek coyly almost as if he knows just how sexy you find it. Your thighs press together slightly at the way he eats you up with his eyes.

“One kiss got you this hot and bothered?” He attempts to dial down his amusement, but it’s radiating off of him.

“A few dirty sentences got you hard?” You counter, looking pointedly at the hand that has dropped to his crotch to palm himself over his sleep shorts. “You know, I could take care of that for you.”

“You sure you could handle it?” He smirks, stalking toward you with an ease that sets your heart racing. His nose brushes yours when he plants his hands on your bare thighs, goosebumps erupting all over from the contact. You stare intensely at each other for a few breathless seconds, testing each other for who will flinch first, eyes alight with challenge. You’ve never seen his pupils so blown, a dominance taking over them that you haven’t yet experienced, but you aren’t one to back down easily. He claims your mouth roughly, gripping your chin to tilt your head to meet him at a better angle so he can infiltrate your mouth with his tongue the moment you part your lips with his. A fire burns in your core, liquefying your insides and causing them to seep into the crotch of your panties with every movement of his tongue against yours. “Don’t start things you can’t finish, princess.”

Your teeth bite down on his bottom lip at the pet name, not hard enough to hurt but enough to send a message that he receives clearly. “Don’t.” Your shy murmur causes him to grow ten times more confident, a mischievous grin finding his lips at the way it’s affected you.

“You like that? I would’ve never guessed.” The dark chuckle that escapes him is cut off by his own lips, pressing quickly against yours before dragging down your jaw to mouth at your neck. The fluttering in your chest makes your head spin, breaths coming out as short huffs against the side of his face as he works his lips on your pulse point. Your eyes close for a split second and the next thing you know, your back is crashing down onto the mattress, Taehyung’s firm body squeezing between the gap of your thighs and large hands pressed in the sheets beside your head. The wet of his tongue slides down your collarbone, pulling gasps from you with the beautiful patterns they create, trailing all the way down to the beginning of your shirt. The garment comes off in a blur, bare chest and hard nipples now exposed to the open air and Taehyung’s awed gaze.

“Touch them, please.” Whiny and desperate, you arch your chest into him to encourage the kisses to continue, your nipples literally tingling in anticipation. He gawks at the sight, collecting your wrists in one hand to pull your arms above your head.

“Fuck,” He breathes, grinding his hips into yours and alerting you to the growing bulge pressed to your thigh. His tongue darts out to lick over a nipple, circling the bud lightly before sucking it into his mouth, and you bite down on your lips to keep your noises at bay. There’s never been a more perfect sight than witnessing Taehyung peer up at you with smoldering eyes and a boob in his mouth, nibbling on it and studying your face for reactions. Your other breast is given the same treatment, and when he pulls away, you’re left with cold, wet marks that reach from the underside of your tits to the top of your chest. “You don’t have to be quiet, you know. I don’t give a fuck who hears.”

“Neither do I.” You purse your lips at him, defying him in a way that makes him growl deep in his throat, eyebrows shooting up. He’s already established his dominance over you, with your hands immobilized above your head and all, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re still stubborn. If he wanted you to scream, he would have to earn it.

“That’s how you want to play this? We’ll see about that.” The pressure on your wrists disappears when he reaches down to grip your hips, flipping you over like you weigh nothing and moving you to the middle of the bed. “On your knees, ass up.” His voice is thick and deep, leaving no room for negotiation as you scramble to follow his orders, limbs trembling with excitement. Your panties are absolutely soaked by now and he can tell just by running his fingers over the material that if it weren’t for them, you’d be dripping down your thighs. Your shorts and panties slide down to your knees with ease, restricting you when you try to spread your legs wider for him as he inspects you. “Look how you’ve ruined your cute bear panties,” He coos, running a finger up your slit to collect your juices. They’re the same ones he found in your suitcase on Friday. “All from a few kisses and getting you’re titties sucked. You’re a horny little one, aren’t you, princess?”

You don’t say anything— can’t— because you’re too busy holding back the moans in your throat. His smooth fingers trace your lower lips, spreading you apart so he can get a view of you in all your glory. “Mmm,” You whine lowly, curving your hips backward toward his face to get him to stop staring and do something.

“You look so good bent over like this for me. That pussy looks so sweet.” He’s watering at the mouth just looking at you, your tight hole clenching around nothing at his words. His eyes roam from your dripping essence to your throbbing clit to the roundness of your ass, all of it looking so delicious that he doesn’t know what he wants to touch more. The tips of his fingers are right there, teasing your entrance just to watch you squirm before finally pushing in, slipping two digits in easily without any discomfort. The wetness engulfs him, making lewd sounds when he moves them in and out slowly, mesmerized by the sight of you sucking him in. He dips down for a taste, licking his way upwards from your clit to where his fingers push inside you, catching everything that spills out. “You taste sweet too.” He groans.

“Faster,” You whisper, only to receive a hard slap on the ass with his free hand. You moan for the first time tonight, surprised yet still fairly quiet, your walls clamping down around the two fingers he still pumps into you.

“You’re in no position to make demands, princess. You already pissed me off, you’re lucky I’m even giving you this.” His hand comes down on the other cheek, a loud smack echoing through the room, and you bet everyone in the house could hear it. He doesn’t increase his pace, but he does go deeper, working his way into your depths with a few deep strokes before adding another finger, making your eyes roll back.

“Oh, fuck..”

“You like that, huh? What did you say to me the other night? I have alien fingers?” The edge in his voice makes him seem angry, but you can tell by the way his free hand keeps massaging your ass that he’s just turned on. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” You whimper, barely able to control your own voice with how deeply he reaches inside you.

“Bet you appreciate them now,” He goads, curling upwards intentionally at just the right spot. You buck your hips back, gasping when he does it again and lowers his mouth back to your clit, tongue flicking and swirling around the bud with skills you didn’t think he possessed. Guess all the porn he’s been watching has finally paid off. He slurps at your juices, making obscene noises that make you feel light headed, the combination of his fingers and tongue driving you to the point of madness.

Having started off on your elbows, you now lay on your chest, arms splayed out and gripping onto the sheets for mercy, teeth biting into the material as a last ditch effort to contain your noises. Moans muffle into the mattress leaving a wet spot from your saliva, and it’s all you can do not to scream out. He doesn’t deserve to hear you moan yet, you don’t want to give him the satisfaction, but your body doesn’t care about your stubborn agenda, it only cares about how good it feels to have Taehyung spread you with his gorgeous fingers in preparation for his cock that is undoubtedly straining in his shorts.

“T-Tae,” You gape, feeling your approaching high.

“I’m not gonna stop until I hear you moan for me— which means I’m not going to give you this dick as long as you decide to keep up this game of yours.” He’s stern, strict about his rules no matter how badly he wants to feel your tight pussy wrapped around him. But you’ve made him wait this long for it, what’s 5 more minutes when he’ll finally get to hear your angelic voice cry out for him? He adds a twist to his wrist, your insides quivering uncontrollably around the digits. You’ve never had fingers this long before and the sensation is heavenly, you can’t wait to feel how big his cock is. Dick jokes aside, you’ve seen his imprint on several occasions and tried not to look, but now you’ll finally get to see it uncovered and your core throbs at the thought. His tongue adds more pressure to your clit when he feels this, fingers prodding with more force and speed until you can no longer hold it in and let loose the noises that were chocked up in your chest.

“Oh my god,” You claw, voice projecting out from your diaphragm at full volume. Taehyung lets out a pleased hum on your lips and you can feel his cheeks lift into a smile. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, please!” Boiling, building heat swirls in your stomach, threatening to throw you off of your knees the closer it gets to bubbling over, but his hand is wrapped tightly around your thigh to keep you upright, digging his face in your cunt the more you try to slip away. Your wetness is dripping down his chin and wrist by now, coating everything in its path with never ending lube that sloshes around the incessant thrusting of his hand. The heat is too much, you can’t take it anymore, and with a series of high pitched moans and cries of his name, you cum, quaking and grinding into his palm with every wave that crashes through you.

“Good girl,” Taehyung praises, sounding short of breath himself. His damp lips kiss up your thighs, leaving a trail of wetness in the few places that were untouched by your juices. He retracts his fingers from you gingerly, mindful of your sensitivity, and finally lets you collapse to the bed in a heaving, boneless heap. “I knew you’d sound hot when you came, but damn,” He chuckles, relieving you of your shorts and underwear entirely, pulling off his own offending garments while he’s at it. “I almost came just listening to you. Are you going to be good from now on?”

When you turn yourself onto your side and look at him, you catch sight of his angry erection, colored red and shiny with precum and pressure. He tugs at it impatiently, eyes boring into yours just daring you to disobey him again. “Yes, Sir.” You don’t miss how his cock twitches at the name.

He’s demonstrated his patience with things like this, but you can tell it’s wearing thin as he squeezes himself at the base, a long drop of precum oozing down onto your hip. His length is the longest you’ve seen, not slacking in the thickness department either, and you just know he’s going to tear you apart— but in the best way possible. You’re wet enough to take him right now, though the stretch might be a little uncomfortable, but you’re tired of waiting to feel him.

“Sure you can take it?” He asks one more time, tapping it on your ass a few times.

“I don’t care, I want you to fuck me open either way.” At this he grins, biting his lip because he always knew you had a dirty mouth, but then he pauses. “What are you waiting for?” You ask, worry creeping up on you that for some reason he could be backing out. He shuts his eyes as if thinking hard, gears grinding like he knows he’s forgotten something, and then he opens them and looks at you in realization.

“Condom.” In your haste, you had forgotten everything you’ve leaned about safety in health class, not even thinking about protection up until now. He seems a little panicked and you assume that means he doesn’t have one, but you remember the one condom you kept “just in case” that you threw into the beside drawer without a care. Thank goodness for Yoongi. You point and Taehyung nearly lunges over you to get to it, tearing open the package faster than you can even blink and sliding it on with a deep moan. “Ready?”

“Absolutely.” With a hand on your ass to spread you open for him, Tae lines up his tip with your entrance, running it along your slit for lubrication before thrusting inside languidly. He almost goes all the way in on the first stroke, the stretch feeling better than expected as you take him in inch by inch, trying to relax your muscles to welcome his entrance. The small sounds you make every time he pushes deeper makes his head spin with a rush of adrenaline, fueling every subsequent movement until he’s as deep as he can go without forcing himself.

“God, you feel so good, princess.” He pants. It’s a snug fit, to say the least, and it takes everything in him to keep calm and give you time to adjust. “Can I move?” As soon as you nod, he retracts his hips, snapping them a bit more shallowly but enough to have you moaning out. Your sensitive walls massage him so well that it’s hard for him to even keep up a steady rhythm, let alone focus on not going too hard, but that’s not what you want.

“Taehyung,” You call, meeting his eyes. “Fuck me.”

“Yeah?” He seems strained, unsure if he should or not, but you’re well adjusted now and want nothing more than for him to let go of all restraint and pound into you.

“Yeah. I can take it, please,” You beg. A purposeful squeeze around his length is all it takes for him to give in. He growls as he repositions you back on your knees, one hand pressing down your lower back and the other sliding a fluffy pillow under your hips to keep you up.

“Just say ‘stop’ if it gets too much, okay princess?” He murmurs into your ear, leaning forward to kiss tenderly along your shoulder blades. Gripping at your waist again, he straightens up and watches his first few strokes, cock covered in your wet sheen thoroughly. Seeing this makes him snap, and suddenly you’re being catapulted face first into the bed as he pounds roughly inside of you, hands digging into your hips to keep you up.

Your moans cut through the air along with the sound of his rapid thrusting, hips meeting your ass so hard that you can feel shockwaves traveling up your spine. The pace is fast and rough, so fast that you can barely catch a breath in between thrusts— but you don’t need oxygen anymore. You only need Taehyung’s cock fucking inside of you right now, so good that you’d trade breathing for this feeling anytime.

“You’re so... fucking... tight.” He groans loudly, reaching for your hair with one hand. It pulls on your roots, forcing your head to crane back and back to arch wildly. He hits differently this way, going deeper and harder in the new angle, tip nudging at your cervix in a mixture of pain and pleasure that makes your toes curl in the sheets, wetness gushing out of you and adding to the cacophony of noises that fill the room. Rocking back towards him, you meet him thrust for thrust on your shaky legs, begging for him to pull your hair harder. “Look at you, acting like a dirty little slut for me. I would have fucked this tight pussy ages ago if I knew how freaky you were.” He grins, holding onto your makeshift ponytail harshly and riding you like the reigns on a horse. “You like it rough don’t you? Want me plow you with my big cock until you’re screaming, huh?”

“Fuck yes, give me more!” The high pitch whininess of your voice contrasts with his bass, both of you moaning in sync when he lets go of your hair and splays his hands across your back, using his weight to move faster inside of you.

“Stay still and take this cock,” He grunts when you jolt forward, caught between wanting to move away from him and rocking yourself back to feel everything he has to offer. His moans get louder and more frequent above you, his eyes squeezed shut and mouth agape as he gets lost in how high he feels while he’s inside you. Every little whimper and moan you make just edges him on and he has to slow himself down before he finishes too early. Shoving himself in deep, he grinds against you, removing his hands from your back to lean over your body. You can feel the sweat dripping off of him onto your back, your own skin feeling so hot you thought the liquid would evaporate on first contact. The reprieve from his hardcore pace doesn’t offer you any relief, his grinding allowing you to feel all the points where his skin rubs against yours, a sticky mixture of sweat and your arousal binding you together in a way that feels sinfully good. His hand slaps your ass a few times, watching it jiggle from the impact, and you tighten around him a little more each time he hits. “Your cunt is so good you almost made me cum early.” He admits, sitting back on his haunches and pulling you up by your arms.

You let out a breathless chuckle, the noise quickly replaced by a gasp when he starts pounding into you again, your head thrown back on his shoulder and one arm reaching up into his hair. His hands roam on their own accord, skimming up your front and sides to squeeze at your bouncing breasts, thumbs circling your nipples to pull drawn out moans from you. One of his hands slides a little further, teasing the skin at the base of your neck as if asking for permission, and when you moan his name, he takes that as his cue and wraps his long fingers around your throat. It’s light at first, but he slowly constricts around you, cutting off your airflow just the slightest bit, just enough to give your head a slight buzz and heighten the feeling of his touch.

“Tae, it feels so good.” You mewl, your free hand coming up to grab onto your abandoned breast as he steadily picks up pace again. Hearing him pant and grunt and groan into your ear is hotter than you could have imagined, and he’s not afraid to vocalize how amazing you feel around him. He’s louder than you at this point, still being drowned out by the sloppy sounds of your pussy and his thighs slapping together, and you almost want to silence yourself just to listen to the sounds he makes for you. He moans your name, holding you up by the throat as he once again loses himself in the rhythmic tightening of your core. You’re close, he can feel it, and he can’t think of anything he wants to feel more than you cumming while he’s deep within you.

“Play with yourself, princess. Rub that pretty clit.” He whispers into your ear, nibbling onto the lobe and kissing down your neck. As soon as your fingers touch the swollen nub, your cries get exponentially louder, curses tumbling from your lips as you chase your high. A tightness forms in your lower abdomen, coiling and winding like a spring that’s ready to snap. For the moments leading up to your orgasm, you think you stop breathing, face stuck in a silent scream from the building pleasure. “I want you to cum on my cock, baby. Cum for me now.” He demands lowly, eyes focused on the side of your face as you follow his command, spring unfurling in your core and sending you flying into ecstasy. You take in a broken gasp, eventually letting out a strangled cry of his name into the open air, walls fluttering and pulsating around his member. “Shit,”

Taehyung releases your neck, letting you fall into the mattress, your clenching walls dislodging him from your heat. But he’s quick to clamber over you, straddling your thighs and adjusting the pillow under you to lift your hips up. He spreads your ass cheeks with his palms, inserting himself back into you swiftly and starting an easy speed. His fingertips are gentle when they reach to push your hair away from your face, neck craning down to connect your lips.

“You did so well for me, princess.” His lips mumble against your own. You can feel his cock throbbing with every thrust he delivers. “I’m gonna cum so hard.” He rasps, looping his arms under your own to immobilize you, his grunts getting louder and more aggressive with the slap of his hips. You wish you could see what he looks like right now, muscles flexing and skin dewy with the sweat he’s worked up, entire body flushed with effort to bring him to his high. You offer help, grinding up against him when his pace falters a little, lacing your fingers with his own. “Keep grinding your hips on me, princess. Yeah, just like that. I love how tight you squeeze me.”

“Your cock made me feel so good, Tae.” You squeak, bending your legs to rest your heels on his ass to feel his strong muscles.

“Yeah? You want me to cum for you?” He asks, face tucked into the crook of your shoulder.

“Please,” You whine. “Give it to me.”

His hips pick up at your words, pounding you hard and fast to get him there. He locks his feet around your calves and pulls your legs straight, pushing up onto his hands to get maximum power, letting out long, drawn out moans that rumble throughout the room, shaking you to your center as you lay there and take it. “I’m gonna cum, fuck!” His breathing is loud, knuckles white as he grips onto the sheets, giving his all into the last couple of thrusts before his loudest moan yet rips through the air. Cock pushing deeply as he cums, he drops down to his elbows on top of you and continues thrusting, softer now. You let him ride out his high, loving the feeling of him throbbing against your walls, spilling into the condom while he’s inside you.

When he comes down, you let him pull out and flop down beside you, both of you too weak to move for the moment. You feel empty without him and almost want to go over and sit on his dick before it’s fully soft again, but you refrain, letting your eyes fall shut.

“How was that for you?” He questions hesitantly while pulling off the condom, barely having enough energy to walk over and throw it in the trash.

“Holy shit,” Is all you can respond and the both of you laugh.

“It was good for me too...” A silence falls over the room and you fear what comes next, hoping it won’t be awkward, but it actually feels quite comfortable. He maneuvers your bodies so that you’re up against the pillows and turns out the light, neither of you wanting to do anything other than sleep.

Ugh, Monday mornings. Well, at least you hope it’s still morning. You and Taehyung were exhausted after your night together, passing out while still naked and barely under the covers. His cuddling habit hadn’t changed last night— and you didn’t expect it to— so you wake up wrapped tightly in his embrace, arms and legs both coiled around you like some sort of snake. It’s comfortable enough that you stay there, trying to ignore the fact that you’re literally both buck ass naked and tangled together, and watch his face for a minute. Last night he absolutely destroyed you. Your back feels stiff and your throat is sore and you aren’t really sure if your legs work anymore. Considering that no one has knocked on your door yet to wake you up, you assume that your friends haven’t left without you, but it’s probably a good idea to get ready to leave anyway.

Somehow, you manage to get Taehyung up and pull him to the shower, fighting away the shyness of him seeing you naked again to wash yourself properly. He smiles to himself when he sees the marks he left on your chest, the little bites and kisses will probably be visible in any tank top you decide to wear, so he hopes you have one decent shirt to conceal your upper half. You scold him for them, smacking him on the shoulder with your soapy hand, and things seem to be normal. You want them to be normal.

“There they are,” Jimin claps, eyes glittering with mischief. “The heroes of the night. The ones that kept us up until 3am.” You ignore everyone’s stares in favor of grabbing a bowl in the kitchen and choosing a cereal, hunger greatly outweighing humiliation. Actually, you’re not even embarrassed. You had some great sex last night and you’re happy about it, and they should be too.

“Tae seems to have a special glow this morning,” Hoseok adds, grinning. “Was it good?”

“Sounds like it was.” Namjoon snickers, pretending like he doesn’t notice your glare.

“Shut up you two, don’t act like we didn’t hear you breaking the bed last night way after us.” You snap, sticking your tongue out at both men. Their eyebrows shoot up. “And you can’t talk either Jimin, I know you spent the night in Yoongi’s room.”

“So now you’re defending him? Jesus, Tae, what did you do to her?” Jimin snorts, elbowing his friend playfully. Neither you nor Taehyung have a reaction to the further teasing, eating your food in silence and sharing looks with each other.

You’re saved from the teasing a few minutes later when Jungkook and Sooyun walk in hand in hand, hair mused and crust under their eyes. It’s clear they had an eventful night and sorted out their issues, much like you and Tae, and you wonder if they’re a couple now. You’ll ask Sooyun later for all the details. Zoe questions them with a raised eyebrow, looking them up and down when they stand embarrassed in the middle of the dining room. Jimin yells out the obvious, stating that they had sex and their faces explode into color. You don’t have enough energy to scold him again.

Leaving the lake house is almost peaceful for you, you feel like this is a suitable conclusion to your high school life, like you’ve found closure after your resolution, and that everyone is leaving happier than when they came. In the shower this morning, Tae asked if anything would change between you, expressing that he didn’t particularly expect anything to come out of this since you were about to leave for college. You told him the truth, that there’s no point in trying to develop your relationship this late in the game and that it’s better off if you just stay friends. He smiles at your rationality, easily agreeing and pulling you in for one more kiss. Your heart aches a little because you’ve missed possibly having a strong relationship with him during your high school years, but you’re ready to mature away from him. And besides, there’s always breaks and summer vacations to see each other, and plenty of chances to catch up with each other ;).

#taehyung smut #bscproject #btssmutclub #taehyung angst

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