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1d1195 · 6 days

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Independent

~10.6k words

From me: I know it's a long one, but it's a one-shot.

Warnings: angst, fluff. I've got about a thousand tropes in this one. Coworker Harry, Roommate Harry, love at first sight, he falls first and harder, one bed if you squint.

Summary: “Go on a date with me,” he groaned.

“Because of the cookies?”

“No! Well, yes. Right now, yes, because of the cookies. But s’not usually because of cookies.”

She laughed. “I don’t date, Harry.”

Harry was tall, with soft brown locks that begged to have fingers run through them, and cool green eyes that reminded her of the sage green bridesmaid’s dress she wore to one of her friends’ weddings the year before. He wore a dark purple button down with sleeves rolled up revealing a bunch of tattoos on his left arm but only a few on the right. His voice was melodic. Smooth, like he was going to sing her a lullaby and warm like it could toast a marshmallow.

Her group chat with a couple of her office friends had been buzzing the moment Harry took residence at the desk across the aisle and one row ahead of her.

Holy fuck. Val texted. Office eye candy 😍

Do you hear that thundering sound? That’s my heart 😍 Rachel continued.

She smirked at the desks, shaking her head.

Don’t shake your head. Say something! At least you’re single, you have a chance! Val sent the messages in quick succession, making her desk partner, Hunter, look at her curiously each time it vibrated.

“Do you have an emergency?” He asked her.

She shook her head. “Nope,” she smiled. “Not at all.”

Harry met her and asked her out on the very first day he started his new job. They both worked in an office. Their desks only a short distance apart while they worked together. He assumed there were no rules against dating as there were several married couples within the office as he quickly found out from the shared last names and wedding photos of his coworkers lining one another’s desks.

It seemed, as long as it didn’t interfere with their work, there was no issue.

Which was fine by Harry.

He was happy to ogle her all day long and he would spoil her rotten outside of work. “Hi, m’Harry,” Harry took his opportunity to introduce himself when everyone else left for their lunch hour and she was finishing something up. Leaving them alone in the office. Harry analyzed her desk as quickly as he could.

Their office was wide open with desks back-to-back nearly identical on either side with a long aisle leading to the office of their boss at the back of the room. Her desk faced the front of the room while Harry’s faced his boss’ office. He was on the opposite side of the room, and he had a great view all day long to watch her profile as she worked. Her hair was half up, her beautiful eyes hidden behind glasses, and her mouth set in concentration as she focused on her tasks. He couldn’t see her whole body, but he watched her pull her sandy colored cardigan around her white shirt multiple times that morning, like she was chilled by the air conditioner. His eyes were drawn to her. Like she was a lighthouse, and he was out at sea. All he wanted to do was watch her, keep an eye on her, and admire how stunning she was.

She had a little plant near her window—a bunch of red poppies wrapped up in a burlap vase, tied with a red bow. He couldn’t tell if it was fake or not, but he suspected it was. There was a picture of a large group of friends right by her monitor where she was off to the side in it, one of her girlfriends had an arm around her. Her stationery was cool tones of blues, greens, and purples. Her handwriting was scribbled on a calendar in front of her and he thought the way she curved her L’s was loopy and pretty beyond belief and he wished he had one in his name just to see how it looked. But it made him want to know how she would write his name anyway. There was a date at the end of September that was marked with a heart and he wondered why. Was it an anniversary? A birthday? Or the day her favorite movie came out?

A book sat on the windowsill, and he wondered when she had the time to read it during the day or maybe it was a security blanket kind of thing. There were two paper trays stacked on top of one another to organize her work and sticky notes all over her monitor and desk with ideas, reminders, and even a couple that said things like, “we love you” and “you’re so sweet.”

“Hi, Harry,” she smiled up at him to introduce herself. “Welcome to the team, are you having a good first day?”

He nodded, smiled a little brighter and dove right in. “I think m’in love with you,” she released a laugh that was so unbelievably beautiful Harry thought it sealed the deal. “I wouldn’t laugh, kitten. M’serious,” he frowned with faux sadness. He knew he was being a tad bit ridiculous. Maybe it wasn’t right to say it while they were alone, but he didn’t want to say it in front of everyone either. Hopefully he could convince her he was harmless, even if what he said was true.

Her cheeks reddened and she smiled. “That’s... very forward,” she reminded him. “And you don’t know me.”

“I know,” he rubbed the back of his head. “I was going t’hold off on saying it until tomorrow, but m’unable t’contain it. You’re very beautiful and everyone seems t’go t’you when they need help, so I imagine you’re a lovely person,” he pointed at the sticky note that said we love you once more. She snickered again and looked away covering one cheek with her hand. “M’going t’go t’lunch before I embarrass myself further, but I jus’ wanted to tell you,” he shrugged, stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned toward the exit.

“Nice meeting you Harry,” she called after him a smile on her lips.

He grinned and turned briefly to wave before he exited. “Don’t forget t’eat, kitten,” he called.

But now that Harry admitted he was in love with her, she couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched while she worked. Her eyes darted to his side of the room often trying to see if he was staring at her. He wasn’t each time which only made her feel guilty and worse. Maybe her standoffish disposition deterred him rapidly. It was probably for the best, anyway. For a lot of reasons.

Was it disappointment she was feeling from his lack of attention? That didn’t seem right.

“Harry!” Val called from behind her. “Are you enjoying your first day?”

“Immensely,” did his eyes drift over to her and her desk? She stared at her screen pretending to work while she listened.

“Did you just move to town?” Rachel was much further towards the front of the room. He turned to give her his full attention. It made her heart skip a beat with how kind it was. His politeness was a massive turn on.

Even if she wasn’t going to let herself admire Harry from across the way just because they worked together.

“I did, m’actually looking for a place t’live if y’know of any places. M’at a hotel until m’on m’feet.”

Her heart started beating about two hundred times a minute because she knew what was going to happen before it did. She could feel the bubbling excitement from her friends on either end of the room. “Mary Poppins has a room!” Rachel shouted.

Her cheeks turned bright red.

“Her roommate just moved in with her boyfriend like last week! How perfect is that, Mary? You were all worried about finding a normal roommate. I even did his background check, so I know he’s good to go!”

Harry chuckled. “Um... who’s Mary Poppins?”

The whole office giggled. “Miss Poppins, did you not introduce yourself?” Someone else called. Hunter snickered across from her and she glared at him.

This was mortifying. Wasn’t this supposed to be a mortifying day for Harry? His first day and all? How come she was being teased? She took a deep breath and turned from her monitor to make direct eye contact with Harry who was already looking at her. Like he knew exactly who Mary Poppins was without his coworkers needing to tell him. “It’s a two-bedroom apartment. One bath. There’s a nice kitchen, all new appliances.”

Harry’s jaw dropped as she spoke. Like he was surprised it really was her. “Val looks like she’s going to bounce out of her seat,” Hunter smirked as he whispered under his breath to her while she tried not to panic at the thought of living with someone so unbelievably attractive and just admitted he was in love with her.

“Tell him about your living room!” Val sounded like she was bouncing.

“Water’s included.”

“She’s the cutest interior designer. It’s so homey it feels like a warm hug when you walk in. Like living with a rom-com character,” Rachel continued.

“Rent would be about twelve hundred,” she ignored her so-called friends.

“She bakes something once a week too, so it always smells like sugar and Christmas. It’s seriously the coziest place I’ve ever been,” Val kept going.

“In-unit washer and dryer.”

“Then she brings whatever she makes for all of us here to devour. It’s incredible,” Rachel’s sentiment was answered with a hum of agreement from the rest of her coworkers. She even heard someone say remember her apple turnover pastries?

“You get your own parking spot,” she tilted her head and looked at the ceiling to see if there was anything else she had forgotten. “I think that’s it,” she met Harry’s eyes once more, holding his gaze briefly before she turned back to her monitor.

“Harry you should totally move in, you will fall in love with the place.”

“M’sure I would,” he chuckled. “Could I see it sometime?” He asked. His attention never strayed from her face. She could sense his gaze on the side of her cheek the whole time her friends embarrassed the crap out of her. “Whenever you’re free. Doesn’t have t’be today.”

“Today’s fine!” Rachel assured him. “She doesn’t do anything on Mondays.”

She rolled her eyes. “Today is fine,” she repeated and smiled sweetly. She scribbled on a sticky note and headed to his desk to drop the address off with him. Then she made her way toward the restroom because she needed to get out of the room. Needed away from everyone teasing her good-naturedly.

But mostly so she could keep herself from telling Harry that she was quite, very possibly, in love with him as well.

True to her friends’ words, the place was cozy as hell. There was a basket of throw blankets next to a sofa that looked like it was comfier than his bed currently in his storage unit. Artwork dotted the walls, board games stowed below her TV, and curtains pulled back from the windows letting in the afternoon sunlight. It felt like a home.

There were three boxes in the middle of the living room between the coffee table and the TV, but it was otherwise spotless. “You’re very clean.”

She nodded. “I know, I’m sorry.”

He chuckled. “Y’don’t need t’apologize,” he put his hands in his pockets, so he didn’t do something crazy like hold her hand.

“I don’t want you to think I’m crazy, is all. You can be... messy... I won’t have a freak out or anything. Unless you leave food in the sink then we get bugs. Then I’ll be kind of freaked out.”

He laughed. “I wouldn’t do that. I like t’think m’pretty clean myself,” he assured her. “I also...” he took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his head. “Y’friends kinda put y’on the spot. I know what I admitted at lunch was kinda out of... out of the blue,” he bit his lip. “Y’don’t have t’feel obligated t’house me.”

“I don’t,” she promised. “I need a roommate and like Val said,” she shrugged. “She did your background check so I assume you won’t kill me, probably. At least not because you’re a serial killer. Maybe because I’m too clean.”

He shook his head with a smile on his lips making the most adorable dimple dent his cheek. She wanted to stick her tongue in it. “Thank you, m’really appreciative.”

She smiled. “You’re welcome, Harry. Sorry we’ll be around each other a lot.”

That didn’t seem like a bad thing at all. “I think it’ll be okay. We didn’t really talk much today,” he shrugged. “If y’get sick of me, m’sure I can find another place t’live,” he winked.

She rolled her eyes. “Won’t be necessary. But okay,” she sighed. “You can move in whenever,” she grabbed her keys from the breakfast bar where she ate most of her meals and pulled a key off the ring and handed it to him. “I have a second job some nights, but if you give me a heads up, I can help you move your stuff.”

“S’very kind of you, kitten, but y’don’t need t’do that. M’not going t’have all that much stuff. M’friend Louis lives not too far from here. He’ll come help me.”

“Offer stands,” she assured him.

Harry’s eyes scanned the room again and landed on the three boxes once more. “Are those your old roommate’s boxes?” He asked.

She nodded. “Two of them. I’m supposed to bring them to her, but they’re super heavy so I’m like... working up my mental and physical strength to bring them to my car. It’s going to be two trips and I’m just being a little lazy about it.”

“I can bring them down,” he grabbed one. It was definitely heavy. It was evident Harry had defined biceps and triceps practically outlined by the pretty purple button down, but it was manageable for him while a struggle for her. “Still probably two trips,” he nodded.

“Oh, I can take—”

“No, no,” he shook his head. “Don’t want you t’hurt yourself. Let me,” he offered and snagged her car keys off the counter.

“Oh, thank you that’s... thank you,” she swallowed, feeling grateful.

“Not a problem,” he assured her and left immediately.

When he returned after putting the second box in her car to return her keys, she had opened the third box and begun laying out a bunch of fall items to decorate their place. “Do you mind decorations?”

“Of course not,” he smiled. “Can I help?”

She blinked at him and tilted her head. “Um... I can handle it. If you need to pack or go... get dinner or something.”

“M’fine,” he smiled, setting her keys on the counter and glanced around the room. He noted there were hooks screwed into the wall at various points. “Can I hang something for you? M’good for height.”

Harry wasn’t that much taller than her, she was definitely taller than the average woman, but it still meant she needed to drag out a stepstool when she wanted to put up her art and decorations. “That would be awesome,” she nodded. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem, kitten,” he smiled.

Harry had a dreamy smile on his face as they talked and got to know one another. He hadn’t brought up that he was in love with her. Nor did he make her feel the least bit uncomfortable. Like it had never happened.

Why did it feel like she was disappointed about the prospect of that?

Maybe he wasn’t in love with her. Maybe the initial reaction of seeing someone roughly the same age as him at work made his senses a bit wild for a moment.

No. She wasn’t disappointed. Everything about Harry being in love with her would be a recipe for disaster and it was for the best that he didn’t fall in love with her.

It was just something a little bit out of the blue to say to the only person who was single in the office. Everyone had a significant other they had met within the office or elsewhere. She was the last single person. The same was true with her friend group as well. Everyone in her life had been paired off except for her.

He was her coworker. He was going to be her roommate.

But right as he left, he sent her heart into a frenzy. They were by the door. She wanted to make sure he got to his car safely even though it was a safe neighborhood. It was just the way she was. “Will you go on a date with me?” He asked.

She stared at him in shock, her lips parting like she was mid-sentence, and he had interrupted. “Seriously?” She giggled reflexively, but her cheeks felt hot. They had a lovely evening together getting to know each other. Harry helped with all the decorations and yes, in its own way it was a bit intimate. But he couldn’t possibly think that it was a good idea to date his roommate.

“Yes,” he nodded.

“Harry, I can’t date my roommate.”

“Pretty sure s’how most rom-coms start,” he smiled. “S’okay. I’ll ask again later. Have a nice night,” he grinned with a wave and walked toward his car. Leaving her jaw slack, as she watched her roommate head off into the night.

Harry moved in later that week. He asked her to come with him to his storage unit to see if there was anything she would want in the apartment, but she had pretty much everything. It seemed silly to bring a double of everything when she owned all of it already.

But Harry would forever be grateful and indebted to his sister for her kindness as he watched her examine some of his belongings. One in particular caught her eye making him think that he had won the lottery with how excited she was.

She couldn’t believe Harry had a stand mixer and she was nearly in awe of all the attachments to help bake and cook easier. “I’ve always wanted one of these. They’re so expensive,” she blinked. “How do you have one?”

“M'sister got one when she got married,” he explained. “But she doesn’t bake and said it was taking up space in her kitchen.”

“Can we bring it to the apartment? Do you mind?”

The way her eyes lit up at the sight of it? Pure joy and happiness? Yeah. It was going to the apartment. If he ever moved out, he would probably leave it with her too just so she could always look that happy. “Course. Anything else?”

She looked around the organized storage room sifting through the items in different bins while Harry searched for some of his own trinkets that he thought he would want after his initial move. His room and bathroom items had already been moved in with the help of Louis. “This is stunning,” her voice full of awe once more, grabbing a print from behind a shelf. Harry wasn’t sure where it was from. He thought his mum purchased it to make his old place feel like home. “This would look amazing in the living room.”

“Bring it,” he smiled. She tucked it under her arm and continued searching. Harry grabbed a few more odds and ends and she plucked out a few more things she thought would work with the apartment’s décor and mainly helpful kitchen tools.

“It’s your place too, Harry,” she reminded him. “Is there anything you want there?”

He smiled, shook his head. “Y’seem t’have everything, kitten. M’not picky.”

“I don’t want you to feel like a guest,” she pouted. “Like you should bring these,” she gestured to pictures of his friends and family in a bin. “I can move some of mine to my room so you can put them up.”

He grinned. “Sure,” he shrugged. “If y’think s’what I should do.”

“Alright, could we come back in a few weeks and see if there’s anything else you want once you’re settled a bit?”

“Course.”

They gathered as much as they could, Harry would have to come back for the stand mixer. Harry closed the trunk and moved to open the passenger door for her before her hand fully pulled it out of the way. He waited until she was tucked into the seat safely and he handed her the car keys. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here,” she smiled.

“Hey kitten,” he said leaning against the door before he left. “Will y’go on a date with me?”

“Harry,” she laughed the same way she did the last time he asked her. The same way she laughed when he told her he was in love with her. “You can’t be serious!”

“Deadly,” he smiled at the delight on her face. The pretty pink color rising to her cheeks. “Will you?”

“I can’t go on a date with you, Harry,” she looked at him with a bit of sympathetic pity. Like he was ridiculous for asking. Again. Which he was.

“Then I’ll ask again another time,” he shrugged, closed her car door, and headed to get the stand mixer that made her happy.

“Hey Poppy, did y’want t’go get lunch with me?” Her eyes didn’t move from her screen. “Poppy,” he repeated. “Poppy,” he sang. She glanced around and realized she was the only one in the room.

“Me?”

He chuckled. “Yes, you.”

Her eyebrows pinched together. “Why did you call me Poppy?”

“Well, m’assuming s’your favorite flower,” it was a safe bet since there was a small bouquet right beside her. “Also, everyone else calls y’Mary, Poppins, or Miss Poppins. Which I still don’t know why, but I wanted t’be different. Want you t’know s’me when y’hear me talking t’you.”

Her heart raced. Harry was utterly adorable. “I see. Sorry,” she smirked.

“Anyway,” he came over to stand by her desk. “Do y’want t’get lunch?”

“Harry, I told you I don’t date.”

“M’not asking as a date. M’asking as your coworker who has never seen y’eat a bite of food while you’re at work. M’asking as your concerned roommate who worries y’don’t eat until y’get home for dinner. And I don’t even want t’think ‘bout how long y’go without eating when you’re at your second job.”

She smiled at his thoughtfulness. “I don’t go out to lunch with everyone,” she explained. “I don’t know if you noticed, but people always seem to need me while I’m here,” she gestured to her desk. “Lunch is the only time I get a minute to myself. And I can get caught up a bit before the afternoon and everyone comes back.”

“Well do you bring lunch?” He asked, his frown deepening still worried she wasn’t eating.

“I do, it’s in the breakroom. I’ll get it in a minute,” she promises. “Go, you’re wasting your lunch hour.”

“Okay,” he sighed. He stopped in the doorway of the entrance to the office. “Hey Poppy,” he smiled.

“Yeah?” She asked without looking up from her screen.

“Now that y’mention it though, will y’go out with me?”

At home, Harry took the trash out because he said it was a boy-job and she shouldn’t be out in the dark by a dumpster. It made his skin crawl just to think about it. He made her promise that she wouldn’t take out the trash and he didn’t mind if he had to go out twice in one day. She thought it was ridiculous. But she agreed.

He cleaned up after himself checking with her to see if it was up to her standard. Even though she assured him he didn’t have to meet her standard. His cologne overtook their bathroom, and it was so comforting she took long hot showers at night just to amplify the scent filling her nose. Harry stretched across the sofa and scrolled through various show options but often didn’t find something that piqued his interest. Instead, he would put on some background noise and read on an eReader. His eyebrows pinched together in concentration.

Harry bought groceries and didn’t ask for any money from them. “M’sure you’ll buy stuff too,” he shrugged. Plus, she already had all the cleaning supplies, laundry detergent, dishwasher pods, and the like. Harry hardly had anything useful so buying groceries was the least he could do.

Except the stand mixer. People moaned about her cookies. Harry got to see her make them firsthand and the very scene with an apron around her body, her smile bright as she tested various stages of the dough, it did wonders for Harry. Some kind of nearly pornographic idea that only Harry would think was pornographic. “Will you try one?” She asked, hope in her voice.

Was he supposed to say no to her? Absolutely not. So, he tried one. “Go on a date with me,” he groaned.

“Because of the cookies?”

“No! Well, yes. Right now, yes, because of the cookies. But s’not usually because of cookies.”

She laughed. “I don’t date, Harry.”

He frowned, faking his disappointment (although he was the slightest bit disappointed). “I’ll try again,” he shrugged and took three more cookies from her cooling rack before returning to the sofa to read.

“Mary!” Val sang. “Do you have the stain stick?” She called from behind. She opened a drawer, eyes unmoving from her screen and held it out behind her for it to be passed back by her other coworkers. Harry chuckled.

It killed her that she knew his chuckle without looking. “S’impressive,” he murmured quietly. But she could hear it from across the way.

“That’s nothing,” Rachel said from the other end of the room. “Miss Poppins,” she smiled delightedly. “I have a missing button,” she told her.

That was the other drawer, a small little sewing kit to fix a button.

“Hair tie!” Someone called from the other side of the room.

“Lint roller!”

They all called out items and she had every single one.

“Do you have anything stronger to put in this coffee?” Their boss was walking up the aisle and paused at her desk. She smirked, opened the bottom drawer and placed a mini bottle of liquid on the edge of the desk. The whole office laughed as he snatched it and headed to his office. “You’re getting a raise, Poppins,” he called.

Hunter turned to look at Harry. “I gave her the nickname,” he explained.

“I get it,” he chuckled.

“If you need it, chances are she has it.”

“If she doesn’t, she adds it,” Val explained.

Her smile was soft. Harry thought it was sweet how her coworkers adored her. It was clear she was loved by them. Her thoughtfulness was admirable. Harry wondered how he was supposed to top that. No wonder she didn’t want to go out with him. Why would she want to go out with anyone when she was ten times sweeter than anyone she knew?

Her best friend Josephine (Joey) was helping her in the bathroom when Harry got home from the gym one Friday evening. “Holy hell you said he was cute, not hot,” she gaped.

“Aw, y’think m’cute, Poppy?” He asked winking at her. Her cheeks flushed red, making it so she didn’t need any of the blush she was putting on her cheeks. He leaned against the doorframe; arms crossed over his chest. He was sweaty and really wanted to get in the shower, but he didn't mind a bit of time to stare at his sweet roommate.

“I should have known. Only a man that uses such high-end cologne would be this hot.”

“Didn’t you buy Matt high-end cologne?”

“Hence why I think he’s so hot,” Joey beamed. Her friend laughed quietly, shaking her head as she finished with her makeup.

“Sorry Harry, we’ll be out of the way in a minute.”

“Take y’time. M’not in a rush.”

“Oh, you should come out!” Joey squealed. “Harry, please! She’s always by herself keeping an eye on us it would be nice to have someone keep her company!”

“Thanks, Mom. I don’t need a babysitter,” she rolled her eyes. “No offense, Harry.”

“S’okay,” he chuckled. “I don’t want t’impose. Plus m’in need of a shower.”

“Don’t let us stop you,” Joey smiled widely gesturing to the shower.

“Can you not?” She rolled her eyes and looked at Harry with apologetic eyes.

He laughed again and shook his head. “Y’can call if y’need something,” he assured her.

“Harry, please come out! You can meet us there!” Joey said again.

She looked at him with a soft smile. A look in her eyes said he wasn’t going to get out of it. Not if he didn’t have a really good reason. But truthfully? He didn’t need a reason to get out of it. Spending time with her outside of work, outside of the apartment, and errands like the grocery store and running to the post office had him excited to see her in another frame of light. Did she let loose? He would love to dance with her. Even if it was only as friends, roommates, fuck as coworkers even. How did she act around her friends versus her coworkers? God, he was obsessed.

“I can wait for you,” she suggested, her voice soft. Harry smiled.

“Thanks, Poppy.”

Her eyes scanned for her friends as she sat on a stool at a high top beside Harry. It was like watching a teacher on a field trip counting heads to make sure everyone was still present. The table was littered with drinks all of which she minded just as intently.

Harry just gazed at her as he sipped his drink. He helped as needed pushing drinks toward her friends as they came back from dancing. “Y’don’t dance?”

“Oh...maybe later. I’m not very good,” she admitted. “I like dancing with Joey because she’s worse than me.”

She caught the eye of one of her friends, Hailey, approaching and she reached into her purse strapped around the front of her for something. Harry watched as Hailey made it to her. “Thanks Mary,” she gushed taking the bandage from her and made her way for the bathroom. It was pretty wild she could anticipate whatever her friends needed. It was like at work. Harry was a bit awestruck and looked at her with a surprised expression. She shrugged and continued sipping her drink.

Jaylen was next. Joey’s twin brother; they had the same facial expressions--mainly the smile that Joey had on her face when she suggested Harry shower in front of her and his favorite person.

The same smile appeared on his face and told Harry he was going to say something just as delightful as Joey had said of Harry. Sure enough, Jaylen draped an arm around her and leaned into her ear to whisper something over the sound of the music. She rolled her eyes and shoved him playfully. His face turned serious and he whispered something again.

She frowned. Then reached into her purse again. Out came a tampon which he slid discreetly into his pocket and then she glanced at his outfit twisting her lips to the side in disappointment.

After a brief thought, she pulled her purse over her body and laid it on the table. The long cardigan she wore came off next, leaving her in a black tank top that tucked into her jeans. It hugged her curves like a glove making Harry’s mouth water and he glanced away worried he would look like a creep. He finished his beer before Jaylen grinned and thanked her profusely and walked away. She took a deep breath and put her purse back into position before wrapping one arm in front of he protectively, gripping the front of her shoulder.

“Are y’cold?” He asked.

She shook her head.

But Harry was sitting beside her. He could see the goosebumps on her skin. She selflessly gave her sweater to her friend for whatever reason (Harry wasn’t totally sure, but he suspected it was menstrual related). But she was going to pretend like she wasn’t cold? Harry was definitely in love. In case it wasn’t obvious by the moment he met her. Boldly, Harry reached below her bar stool and tugged it toward him. She jostled a bit but he maintained her balance. Then he draped his arm around her body pulling her toward him further and he couldn’t help but notice she didn’t pull away. She didn’t make a sound and her facial expression didn’t change.

But Harry felt her body relax into his side, her head dipping ever so slightly toward his shoulder. He smiled softly and brought his lips closer to her ear so she could hear. “Y’don’t have t’lie t’me, Poppy. M’your roommate and all. I know y’like the apartment a toasty temperature.”

She smirked and tilted her head up. Their eyes connected, their mouths only two inches apart. “Thank you,” she said kindly.

Harry really enjoyed holding her.

At the end of the night, she rounded up her friends ensuring those who said they could drive actually could and if they couldn’t she called for Ubers until everyone was safely on their way home. Jaylen’s girlfriend, Maya, had her green sweater wrapped around her white pants. She thanked her profusely, drunkenly.

Joey and Matt waved goodbye. “Bye Hot Roommate,” Joey called waving to Harry specifically.

“Jesus, Joey,” Matt rolled his eyes. “Nice meeting you Harry,” he called.

Once everyone was gone, she rubbed her hands on her arms to keep the blood flowing and warming her skin. Harry wrapped his arm over her shoulders again and tucked her into his side as they headed for her parked car a couple blocks away. “Go on a date with me," he spoke straight forward. Hoping if he didn't look, it wouldn't seem like as a massive deal--almost like he would trick her into a date.

She elbowed him. “I can’t go out with a coworker, Harry. Or my roommate for that matter.”

He shrugged. “I’ll ask later,” he boldly kissed the top of her head. Fortunately, she didn't seem to mind. Harry was sure to keep that in his head for future reference. He would most definitely be kissing her again. “You’re an extremely sweet girl, Poppy. Selfless, lovely, kind,” he listed. “Whoever y’end up with, m’going t’be very jealous,” he assured her.

She snorted and laughed quietly under her breath. “Thank you, Harry.”

For months it continued with similar routines, feelings, and questions. They grew closer as friends. At work he admired her from his desk from across the office. When she didn’t go to lunch, he reminded her to eat and not work too hard. At home, he grumbled that her loophole of taking the trash out in the daytime was not the point of his promise. He still bought groceries each week trying to figure out all the things she enjoyed eating.

He helped her clean the apartment and when it was getting cooler outside, she asked to join him at the gym. Her outfits were cute and made guys stare at her as she worked out, unbeknownst to her. She asked for help from Harry which made him feel like he won an Olympic medal. His face was smug as the men in the gym finally stopped looking at her. Thinking Harry was lucky enough to be hers.

It made him happy to help her figure out new machines and with her sets of weightlifting (even though she didn’t like it).

Everywhere they went, people ogled her. She was so kind. Little kids would smile at her in grocery store lines and wave like it was a game of peekaboo. Dogs tugged on their leashes hoping to get a pet from her around the loop she ran in the neighborhood. Their elderly next door neighbor tried telling her a hundred times that she had a grandson her age and he would love to date her (that one drove Harry the most crazy).

She had her head leaning in her palm as she watched the stand mixer beat the brownie ingredients like it was the most interesting thing in the world. But Harry was watching her; so he was, in fact, watching the most interesting thing in the world.

He leaned against the wall just beside the kitchen entrance. “Poppy?” He asked. She looked up at him. “Go on a date with me, please," his expression soft.

She was finally getting used to it. She gave herself a lot of credit. It was pretty crazy she hadn’t caved yet. Harry was so lovely. Not to mention attractive. At the gym, his muscles rippled and glistened with sweat. The outline of every abdominal muscle was sinful. It was a miracle she didn’t drop her own weights or fall on the treadmill when she caught sight of him. It drove her crazy that the women there gazed at him longingly; like he was something to eat. But was she really any better?

She smiled, the blush on her cheeks still prominent, but not as deep. She was used to her heart skipping a beat, the butterflies fluttering in her stomach each time he asked. “That's very sweet, Harry. But I don’t date.”

It was six months since he met her when he finally asked. “Why not?”

She shrugged. He thought she wasn’t going to say anything more, so he frowned, sighed, and headed for the living room to get back to his book. “I just don’t date, Harry. I like being friends,” she told him.

He grumbled something about still being friends even if they dated but she either didn’t hear or pretended not to hear. Either way, it was quiet for a few beats. “If I hadn’t told you I was in love with you that first day, would that have changed your answer?”

She giggled and shook her head. “No.”

“Okay,” he shrugged. Ever determined. He smiled widely at her. “I’ll keep asking then.”

When she got dressed up for a family wedding and clicked down the hall in heels and a dress that flowed over her like she was the bride (only wearing green of course, not white). Her hair was curled and pinned so prettily Harry thought he was seeing a real angel in the flesh. “Oh, come on, Poppy,” he groaned and covered his eyes with his hand dramatically. “S’not fighting fair,” he frowned.

She grinned, her cheeks warming more than they had in a while. “I look okay?”

“Stunning,” he grumbled. “M’so jealous I won’t get t’dance with you,” he pouted.

She shook her head. “I don’t usually dance at weddings when I go alone,” she explained.

“Well, y’should’ve told me. I would’ve been your date.”

“Harry—”

“Platonic date,” he rolled his eyes. “This is worse than when y’wore that pencil skirt t’work,” he reminded her. She snickered and shook her head while she looked at her phone. She sucked her lip into her mouth and sighed wincing slightly and then turned to her room again. After several minutes she returned in a different dress. She was equally stunning, but she looked a little forlorn. “An outfit change?”

She nodded. “Yeah,” she shrugged. “My sister is wearing green.”

Harry frowned. “So?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I just...” she shrugged. “It’s alright. I like this dress just fine.”

But it wasn’t green. She looked so pretty in green. It complimented her skin tone so perfectly. She looked stunning. Like she was a queen. “But—”

“Seriously, Harry. It’s fine.”

The muted purple dress looked lovely on her as well. But Harry thought the green made her look otherworldly. He wanted the happiness back in her eye. The light that sparked when he complimented her. “Well when can y’wear it?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Season’s almost over for a wintergreen like that,” she shrugged. “Maybe next year.”

Harry frowned. But then he had a wonderful idea to help both her dress and himself. “Go on a date with me, Poppy.”

The smile reappeared on her face, and she shook her head. “I can’t, Harry.”

“Please? Do it for the sake of that dress,” he pleaded. “We don’t even have t’call it a date. An outing. An adventure. Whatever y’want. Y’jus’ need t’wear it before y’can’t.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Harry. But I can’t.”

He sighed. “You’re welcome, Poppy.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow? I’ll steal you a cupcake. I heard they come from this bakery that I love and if it doesn’t make it home to you, then we’re going to have to go there anyway.”

It didn’t replace a date. But he liked the way she smiled. And going to a bakery together was inherently a couple-y thing to do. So he would take what he could get.

“Sure, Poppy. I’d love to.”

She didn’t need people. Needing people had only ever broken her heart. She never asked for help ever. Well...only when they were at the gym but that was a safety thing more than anything.

Even when she should have asked.

Harry didn’t notice until he drove her to a house party that her friends didn’t invite her too. She was sleepy, it was obvious. Leggings, oversized sweater. Her hair was braided loosely and falling apart because she had woken in the middle of the night to answer a message. Harry was in the middle of a good book. Unable to put it down when she ventured into the living room. A yawn falling from her lips. Her eyes barely open. It took several questions and repeated convincing to let him drive her since he was awake, and it looked like she was going to pass out while standing.

Harry insisted on coming in even as she told him to stay in the car, but he refused. She found her friends, her voice was soft as she encouraged Jaylen to leave. A little over his limit and Joey and Maya were about just as gone and unable to convince Jaylen to go with them. A guy from across the room made a joke about Mommy coming to save him. As her pugnacious friend made a turn to deal with the offensive person, she stopped him. She was quick, grabbed his arm, and held tight.

When they returned to the apartment she corralled her friends into their sleeping arrangements. Maya and Jaylen in her bed, Joey on the sofa. “Sorry I took your reading spot,” she whispered as she tucked a blanket around Joey. She snagged another blanket and curled into the only other chair in the living room. “Thank you for driving,” she smiled, closing her sleepy eyes.

“You’re gonna sleep there?” He asked. She nodded, barely moving. Like she was already half-way to dreaming. Harry snagged her out of the chair, cradling her and bringing her to his room.

“Harry,” she protested.

“We’re grown adults,” he reminded her. “We can share a bed without it being weird. S’like a hotel room.”

“Harry,” she repeated, her objection evident in her tone. “I can’t—”

“M’not letting y’sleep in a chair or on the floor. So, it’s m’bed or y’aren’t sleeping,” he shrugged.

She sighed. Too tired to oppose any further, thankfully. Harry laid her atop the covers and draped another blanket over her. He went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and slid beneath his sheets and glanced at the sleeping angel beside him. He smiled. He liked the way she looked in his bed. Liked the way she seemed comfortable and sleepy beside him. His bed felt warm with her beside him. Even though she wasn’t touching him. She smelled good in his room too.

“Night, Harry,” she mumbled.

“Good night, Poppy,” he answered, reached out, squeezed her hand before releasing it so she wouldn’t break a piece of his heart by telling him they shouldn’t.

It was easy to fall asleep with her beside him.

It was even easier to dream of her with her intoxicating presence in his room as well.

Harry noticed how drained she seemed when the weather continued to get warmer. Her friends all had birthdays around the same time, and she was a mess of scheduling and reserving birthday dinners and planning things for all of them. Did Harry miss her birthday? He would have to ask. He hoped he didn’t. He hoped her friends would take the time to plan for her the way she did for them.

Work was approaching a busy season, and everyone kept coming to her more and more throughout the day. He could see the anxiety on her face as her growing to-do list looked nearly unmanageable. Harry tried to go to others if he had issues. But every time he asked someone else a question, they called out for Mary Poppins, and she would glance up and look at Harry with a sad smile asking how she could help.

Harry was worried she wasn’t eating her lunch. When everyone else left, her eyes were hidden behind those glasses, her face concentrating and relieved for the reprieve from people calling her name for help with work or needing something like a pen or a screwdriver. Sometimes Harry hated his job. Not because it was difficult. But it seemed like everyone in the office was incompetent. Or weaponizing their incompetence and foisting their tasks onto the lovely woman who would never say no to them.

Her friends did it too. With all the planning and such.

The poor thing looked exhausted. She didn’t join Harry at the gym and her second job seemed like the only time she got to herself. “I miss reading,” she grumbled when she got home late from her shift. She kicked her shoes off and flopped onto the opposite end of the sofa. “My eyes are exhausted though,” she rubbed them for good measure. “I think I would fall asleep if I tried to read. I think I need to wake up earlier and read.”

Harry snorted. “Don’t burn yourself out, Poppy,” he rolled his eyes. “What are y’reading?”

“I’ve been trying t’read this book for months,” she pulled it from the shelf below the coffee table. He had seen it tucked there for a while. He grabbed it from her, skimmed the back of the book, and opened to the first chapter.

Then, he started reading.

Out loud.

“Harry,” she whispered her eyes wide.

“Yeah?” He asked, pointing at the sentence where he stopped and looked at her curiously. “M’starting over, because I want t’know what’s happening,” he smiled. Her face looked so shocked and confused. Sad even. Like she didn’t know what emotion she was supposed to feel.

“You don’t have to—”

He shook his head, and continued reading before she could finish her sentence.

Harry read three chapters before he carried her sleeping self to bed.

Something changed in Harry. He almost turned into a stalker. He tracked her movements and routines for a week. He knew most of them. But he really tracked them. The daily ones were easiest. She went for a run in the morning, he followed her lead and didn’t say a word. He went to her favorite coffee shop and paid for her favorite drink for a week’s worth of drinks in advance.

He wished they carpooled, but she was so busy. So he timed his arrival so that he was at the entrance door holding it open for her. When everyone left to get lunch, he heated up her food and brought it to her desk before leaving silently.

One day, there was a note on her dashboard saying she had a full tank of gas. When she arrived home after her second job, she noted her spare car key was on Harry’s key ring. At home, her laundry was in the wash. The shirts she didn’t like to put in the dryer were hung in the bathroom.

Harry could see it. She was cracking. It was the first time someone had done something for her it seemed. The first time someone so selflessly did things for her, anticipated her needs the way she anticipated everyone else’s.

Her throat felt tight as she looked at Harry in the kitchen, making her favorite dinner—a soup that took hours and hours to make.

He didn’t even know it was her birthday that day which made her heart feel sicker than ever.

“Poppy,” he smiled sweetly placing a bowl in front of her exhausted figure.

“Yeah?” She whispered.

If she wasn't so in awe, she would have realized where his tone was. What was coming next. “Go on a date with me, kitten.”

“I can’t.”

“S’not so hard,” he assured her. “You sit across from me and be yourself because m’already in love with you,” he reminded her sweetly. An impish grin on his pretty pink lips. That dimple she wanted to sink her tongue into on display. “I tell y’how stunning y’look, I pay for you t’eat. I feed you a dessert of your choosing that you’re probably too full t’eat and then I can kiss you wherever y’want. Lips, cheek, forehead,” he shrugged. “Then we come home, and I’ll read a chapter of your book. Y’can decide if y’want t’go on a second date.”

She giggled, her cheeks red. “I can’t, Harry,” she looked at him apologetically, but she felt herself melting as much as the soup warmed her insides. It was ridiculous to eat soup in the middle of the summer. But Harry made it for her anyway.

His heart deflated a little. He wasn't kidding. He was definitely in love. He had to be because there was no other way he could explain the feelings he had for her. Someone so thoughtful, so pretty, sweet, and funny.

Harry had asked her out at least a hundred times. Around Christmas, she got her hair cut and he always found her beautiful, but he asked her almost every day following her new hair style for a month straight. Each time she said she couldn't. She didn't date.

For the first time in the near year since he had first asked her, first met her, he realized she said she can’t go on a date with him. She didn’t date. That he was crazy.

Not that she didn’t want to. She didn’t say no.

Hope bloomed inside him.

She didn’t need anything. She didn’t need anybody. It was clear someone or maybe many had let her down so many times. He watched her doing everything she could to make this party as nice as humanly possible for Hailey. Not that Hailey didn’t deserve it, but no one had done anything like this for her. Harry only found out it was her birthday after the fact, and he felt like shit for it. Even though she assured him that was one of the best birthdays she ever had.

All he did was make her soup.

She deserved so much more.

It almost seemed too obvious that they hadn’t done anything for her remotely as lovely as she did.

“You’re staring, Styles,” she murmured without looking up from the chair while he lounged on the sofa.

“Go on a date with me,” he smiled.

She blushed, shook her head. “You’re crazy.”

“You haven’t said no.”

"I've said no about a hundred thousand times, Harry," she rolled her eyes.

Why was it now? Why did he want to tell her what he was thinking about the whole situation now? But it was in his chest. He had to say it. Had to tell her.

“No, you’ve never said no,” he shook his head and looked at her head on, while she continued looking at her to do list, her planner. Her poor neglected book waiting to be read by Harry because her tired eyes couldn’t. She looked up at him and smirked. Ready to protest once more, but Harry shook his head again. “I remember everything you've said t'me. I would remember a 'no,' it would probably kill me t’hear y’say, no kitten. Y'call me crazy, y'say y'can’t or that y'don’t date. Never, not once, have y'ever said y'don’t want t'go on a date with me. Nor a flat out no. So m'going t’keep asking until y'say y'don’t want to. Because I think you do want t'go out with me but for some reason y'don't want t'allow yourself t'be happy. T'let someone else in. M'not going t'stop asking. Not until I hear y'say "Harry Styles I would rather die than go on a date with you. I never want to go out with you." Maybe that makes me conceited or creepy. M’sure it does make me crazy. But I don’t care. I want t'go on a date with you. I want t'go on a million dates with you, actually. So m'not giving up until y'call me creepy or y'say y'don’t want to.”

She swallowed like there was something stuck in her throat. Her eyes didn't move from her lap.

"Kitten," he murmured. She didn’t look up. “Poppy,” he whispered. She finally met his green-eyed gaze again. His expression soft, pleading. “Go on a date with me,” his voice was soft. Harry swore his heart stopped beating because if he was wrong, if she really was saying no all those times, he wasn't sure he could ever stop asking her. The idea he would never get to take her out to eat and order her favorite dessert. He wouldn't see a movie and wrap his arm around her shoulders and that was completely unfair. He wanted to offer his jacket to her when it rained and hold her hand while walking through a museum. "Poppy," he repeated.

She bit her lip, her lips opening and closing like she wasn't sure which word was going to pop out. “I can’t,” she whispered. Her eyes looking at him in a way that he could read right through her. They screamed at him, please don’t stop asking me.

As if he could ever. Harry smiled. "Okay," he shrugged, hope and adoration for her flooding him. "I'll ask again tomorrow."

A sad smile graced her face. "You're crazy," she whispered again.

"Only 'bout you, Poppy.”

Harry felt like he was getting sick. Probably due to the sweet girl in his apartment who had worn herself so thin and weary that she had inadvertently brought illness home to him. His head was killing him. His pillow was calling for him the way he wished his favorite stubborn woman would call him.

He didn't even know if she was home. But honestly, he was glad. If she knew he was sick, she would dote on him. Even if she was starting to fell unwell. The thoughts of her were never too far from his mind. He would never be too sick, too lost, too far away from her that she could leave his thoughts.

Sleeping was one of his favorite hobbies because he loved to see her in his dreams. Loved to see the unaffected, carefree, beautiful, stubborn woman. The angel that enjoyed affection both giving and receiving.

It was his nightly dream. The one where she snuggled with him, and it was like they had been together twenty years and not zero. The one where he could taste her lips (even if in his dream she tasted like nothing) he knew it was wrong. She probably tasted like chocolate or caramel or something deliriously sweet.

Unfortunately, his phone vibrated below his pillow pulling him from his perfect beautiful dream.

“Harry?”

He squinted at his phone. Head aching, throat sore. Curious as to why he didn’t have the number saved. “Speaking.”

“Oh, thank god,” the voice sighed. “It’s Joey,” she said. “Harry. Something’s wrong. She won’t stop crying and she won’t say anything but your name.”

He leapt out of bed. Illness forgotten even if he was dizzy. His heart thudded like a chorus of drums, and he didn’t even grab shoes as he raced out of his room, snagging his wallet and keys off the counter as he exited the apartment.

He listened to Joey say a few more things. Something about being out at a club. She never left the bar area. There was no way someone had hurt her. But Harry drove through the night with his heart in his throat like someone had hurt her. He wasn’t sure seeing her would even calm him. He knew where Joey lived, fortunately, so he sped as quickly as he could. The ache in his head and his throat was lost behind him along the drive.

He didn’t knock as he hurried barefoot into Joey’s apartment. Matt was coming from the kitchen and making his way down the hall. He looked at Harry sadly as he approached the main room.

“Poppy?” he whispered as he entered the room, her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold herself together. "Kitten," he frowned and knelt in front of her. He picked her face up between his and he scanned her looking for signs of injury. Anxiety was in every inch of his body. But she fell into his arms before he could look any longer. Sobbing harder than when he entered. “M'here. M'here, baby. It’s okay. M'here," he kissed the top of her head, cupping the back of her head with one hand. The other arm winding around her and squeezing her tight to his body. “Oh kitten,” he sighed, sadness coating his voice. His heart ached. Like it was going to snap in half if she cried any longer. “M’sorry, baby. M'here. S’okay. Tell me. Please. I’ll make it better,” he promised.

Her sobs continued, like she was unable to speak. "Harry," she whimpered.

"M'here, Poppy, s'okay," he assured her even if it wasn't. "Baby," he frowned pulling away to look at her her tearful eyes. He tugged her back to his embrace and continued to soothe her. He rubbed his hand up and down her back hoping it was comforting as he hoped it was.

Harry caught Joey's eye, who looked over from the entryway and smiled weakly.

"You good?" She mouthed. Harry nodded and when he glanced back, her friend was gone.

Harry kissed the top of her head for the hundredth time. He continued rubbing his hand down her spine. His head was still screaming.

But she was well worth it. Her cheeks were streaked with salt lines. Her eyes puffy and red around the edges. He had pulled her to him so they could snuggle into the corner of the couch. Her body tucked between the back cushion and Harry's body. Like he didn't want anyone to see her if they entered the room.

“Harry?” Her voice was raw.

“Hmm?” He tucked her hair behind her ear and skimmed his fingertip along the same path repeatedly.

“Will you go on a date with me?” She whispered.

He smiled lazily. His heart exploding in his ribcage. “God, Poppy, I don't know. I have t'check m'schedule.” She smacked his chest with no weight behind it. He kissed the top of her head. “I’d take y’right now. Whenever y’want.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing t’be sorry for.”

"I have issues."

"We can work on them together."

"I don't know if you'll..." She trailed off.

"If I'll what?" He brushed his thumb on her cheek.

She took a deep breath. "I love love, Harry. I love watching people get married. I love when people have babies and grow a family. I want to have babies. I love reading romance novels and watching silly rom-coms where you can predict the ending before the movie even starts."

"Sounds pretty romantic and easy, Poppy," he murmured.

She swallowed continuing. "I will do a lot for you because I believe that's the way love is supposed to be. I want to make your life easier, and I want to do things that make you happy because I think happiness and love are in short supply and I want those books and rom-coms to be real."

Harry nodded. "Well—"

"I've never had that. I had a boyfriend for four years and..." she sniffled. "When we broke up, I said that I wouldn't do that again. I wouldn’t devote myself so completely to someone that wouldn't give me half as much. Then I met my next boyfriend and at first, I thought it was right, finally. It was equal. He loved me the right way, I mean. The way I thought I wanted, deserved... But then it was like he got tired of doing things. I don't know. Maybe my love language is acts of service. I don't know. I’m not making sense, I'm sorry. But..." she swallowed. "I broke it off after only two years that time. I just don't think I can be loved the right way... not forever. I don't know. I sound so selfish, don’t I? I don’t know why you want to go out with me so badly. I want someone to love me the way I love them, and I don’t think that’s...fair."

It was why she always had everything. Why she planned and hosted parties. Why she never drank and always took care of her friends. She loved everyone that was lucky to cross paths with her, with her whole, big, beautiful heart.

Harry tilted her chin up. "M’going to love you the right way,” he promised. “M’going to love you the way y’want because that's what y’deserve. If I love you anything less than you deserve then... well... I don't know what, Poppy. If that’s the case m’probably dead because s’the only possible explanation,” she snorted and tears dripped down her cheeks again but not like the night before. “But it's not going to be a problem, kitten. M’going to love you the way your books love. The way a rom-com loves. M’going to love you the way you love everyone that walks into your life. The way you so selflessly devote your kindness to them. M’going to love you the way you love," he promised. “Because s’an honor to love you,” he assured her. “S’an honor to be loved by you.”

She looked away from his gaze, closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to his chest. His throat was aching again. He was really tired, but he would suffer her wrath and frustration of going on about this later. He knew that she would be beside herself knowing he was sick and dealing with her anyway. But where else would he be? "Harry," she whispered finally. He met her eyes the back of his fingers skimming her cheek.

"What, Poppy?"

"Do you love me already?"

"Of course I do."

She sniffled, her face crumpling with relief. Like all of it had been a trick up until then. "Okay," she whispered. “Can we go home?”

“Course, kitten,” he kissed the top of her head and moved slowly to get up from the sofa. All of his muscles ached from sickness and from the awkward but perfect position of holding her all night in the cramped little space.

He held his hand out for her to take as she stood next. “Harry,” she whispered softly.

“Hmm?” He hummed and looked at her with a soft expression that made her stomach flip, her heart skipped a beat. "Yeah, Poppy?"

“I’m in love with you too.”

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okwonyo · 3 months

Text

⟡ ONLY IF YOU SAY YES ── asking them for a kiss。

엔하이픈 ୨୧ female reader one thousand fluff established relationship ⎯⠀ kissing skinship ( other )

ˊᗜˋreblogs&feebacks !CLICK

HEESEUNG ｡｡ would be sitting next to you during a social meeting, his hand resting on your thigh as he sits close to you. would listen to his friends talking attentively, humming while they talk, rubbing his thumb on your skin.

you would find him so pretty, staring at his side profile, eyes dragging on his nose. you would tap his shoulder shyly, to make sure anyone but him can see it and draw attention to you.

would lean towards you, asking you silently what is wrong, “can y’give me a kiss?” you would ask shyly and he would coo.

an ethereal smile would grow on his face after, at the same time, a red shade would appear on yours — the longer he stares, the darker it gets. would give you the sweetest kiss ever, before whispering; “here ya go, baby”

JAY ｡｡ would be in the kitchen— which would first worry you when you wake up and feel his empty side beside you. getting up in a sense of hurry as if he might have gone away from you, your first instinct would be following the delicious scent emanating from the kitchen.

you will be welcomed by jay’s broad shoulders, a tea towel over his shoulders, muscles flexing as he cuts your fruits.

would hum when you wrap your arms around his perfect waist, pressing cheek against his back, rocking him side to side, “good morning, beautiful,” he would tell you, turning his head to you slightly.

“kiss me,” you would tell him without responding back, puckering your lips and he would kiss you instantly. and again, and again, and again.

JAKE｡｡ you would listen to your boyfriend rambling about something totally random. starting from the weather to how cereals are made, you would nod along to what he says. not because you are faking it, but because, weirdly, it genuinely tickles your interest.

a giggle would even escape your lips without you even thinking about it. and he would decide to take it personally, not because he is genuinely offended, but because he wants to be dramatic and can be.

“i’ll stop talking then if you make fun of me,” he would say, crossing his arms under his chest with a pout forming on his lips. god, he is trying to make you go crazy.

you would giggle even more, “no—” you would touch his arms and he would look away, “i just, wanted to kiss you.” this, would make him go crazy. then, he would be the one giggling on your lips.

SUNGHOON ｡｡ would be the one to want to kiss your first. it is not as if he would be discreet about it either — not as if he would at least try to be.

his gaze would linger on your face for a long while, watching you doing literally nothing with an immense attention, trying to get your attention to telepathic messages.

would bite his lower lips slightly when you put a hair strand behind your ear, revealing your beautiful side profile. after making him wait for a while, you would turn your head to his, accompanied by a knowing look all over your face, “just kiss me”

would beam, coming closer, “if you insist,” and your only mistake would be thinking that he is going to pull away anytime soon.

SUNOO ｡｡ would start to get extremely shy when he feels your eyes on him for too long. heat slowly rising from the bottom of his feet to his cheeks as he tries to avoid your look.

his hand would come hiding his whole flush, “stop staring at me like that,” he would whine, resisting at you trying to get his face out it’s hiding place — your laughter would not help, “is there something on my face or what?”

“stop hiding!” you would giggle sweetly. a proud smile will spread on your lips when he would oblige. “i just really wanted to kiss you, s’all.”

a gape would show between his lips after your question. still, he would present you his cheek with an enthusiastic smile. would turn his head to you after you kiss him, just to do the same on your lips.

JUNGWON ｡｡ would not let the occasion to tease you slip through his fingers, ever. you would be able to see it coming when he smirks.

he would hum, acting as if he was thinking about it. “a kiss?” he would ask himself, looking at the ceiling before looking back at you with a look you won’t like at all. “of course.”

soft hands cupping your face, his lips would delicately rest on your forehead, “here?” he would ask after pulling away, you would shake your head. then he would do the same on your cheek, your nose, the corner of your lips; you would always refuse. “where does my baby want a kiss then?”

you would groan and this man would laugh at your misery, “just kiss me on the mouth already!” this is all he would need to hear.

RIKI ｡｡ his initial purpose would only be doing a cute attention toward you. when you would invite him to come over, he would show up with a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

would fidget on his feet as you admire the bouquet in your hands. biting his inner cheek when your eyes would shoot back to him again. “w-what?” he would laugh nervously, “do you want to kiss me?”

his heart would drop to his stomach when you tell him that you actually want to kiss him really, extremely even, bad right now.

would put his hand on your waist and lean, making sure to not ruin the bouquet in your hand. your hand would rest on his neck, the kiss would be magical.

ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open ⎯⎯ this formating was really tiring but i love new challenges 😚

1K notes · View notes

ryukatters · 1 year

Text

swipe right — k. bakugo x fem! reader

✮ a/n: i remember seeing a post on here a long time ago about a character making a fake tinder profile for their gf and realizing how many people want her. (if someone knows the OG post please lmk so i can link it!) so now i present to you: bakugo falling to his knees in the middle of your apartment bedroom for the exact same reason.

✮ content/warnings: dubcon, quirkless/college! au, jealousy, possessiveness, breeding, creampie, unprotected sex, cum eating, cunnilingus, overstimulation, praise, biting, bkg gets a little rough with you, and bkg's also a fucking simp but when do I ever write him as being otherwise??

✮ summary: your boyfriend decides to make a fake tinder profile for you just to see how many matches you get. he comes to a realization just how many other people want what’s already his.

✮ word count: 4.2k (i'm so sick)

Bakugo can remember how this all started. In very vivid detail, actually. He remembers because Kaminari had pissed him off so much to the extent that it took him a very substantial amount of effort to refrain from bashing his friend’s face in.

It all started during the last monthly hangout amongst Bakugo and his friends— one day out of the month designated to make sure that they all had time to catch up with one another despite their busy schedules.

Everything was normal, with all of them getting more than enough of their fill of food and alcohol while idly playing video games and talking about random topics to fill in the silence in Kaminari’s living room.

Perfectly normal, until Denki decided to open his stupid mouth, at least.

He goes off on a tangent about a trend he saw on social media where someone makes a fake Tinder profile for their partner to see how many matches they’d get. He proceeds to tell Bakugo that he should try doing it, for “funsies,”— to which Bakugo scoffs at.

“Aren’t you curious, Kacchan?” Kaminari smiles cheekily, wrapping an arm around his blond friend’s shoulders, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Bakugo’s becoming visibly more upset with every passing moment.

“Your girlfriend is really pretty,” Mina chimes in, sticking her tongue out when Katsuki whips his head to glare at her. “I’m still surprised she’s with a grump like you.”

Kaminari butts in, “I bet there’s a whole line of guys around the block just waiting for a chance to get with her. I mean, just look at her! Hell, I’d even let her peg m—”

For a moment, Bakugo swears he wants to bash Kaminari’s face into his flatscreen. And for a moment, he lets that impulsive thought win— getting up and grabbing two fistfuls of Denki’s shirt before promptly getting cut off by Kirishima.

“Alright alright,” Kirishima forcibly pries Bakugo off of the other blond, pushing him off to the side. “That’s enough, you two. Kaminari was just messing around. I’ll admit, it wasn’t a good joke, but no need to hurt the guy, okay Bakugo?”

Kirishima knows that Kaminari wasn’t being that serious, but Kirishima can also admit that what he had to say held some ounce of truth. And Kirishima knows Bakugo well enough to see how your boyfriend tends to be rather skittish and protective with matters concerning you— which is exactly why Eijiro had to stop him before it was too late. He really didn’t feel like preparing for Denki’s funeral or helping hide Katsuki escape from a homicide charge.

And that was that…up until a few minutes ago.

Katsuki’s tried to forget that conversation. But try as he might, his mind betrays him and can’t help but wander back to what Denki said that night.

He trusts you of course, and has complete faith in your relationship. However, he’s curious to a fault, just about perhaps too curious for his own good.

How badly could this end?

As it turns out, this whole scheme seems to be playing out very poorly.

Dozens of photos of you— screenshotted from your social media accounts— fill Katsuki’s screen. He had to choose photos you uploaded yourself, because most of his photos of you were either too…suggestive or too domestic (and he wants to be the only one to see you in those moments).

He swipes through “your” profile one last time before clicking “done” to officially put you on the market. And just like that, Bakugo’s met with the faces of men who are nowhere near your level. He goes through the batch of profiles, scrutinizing each one he comes across. He’s (un)surprisingly selective with the ones he chooses to swipe right on— making sure that they’re at least somewhat conventionally attractive. To his surprise (or dread, rather), his phone pings right away with a notification from someone who swiped back. Another ping. A message.

You free tonight?

Bakugo scoffs. He looks through the guy’s profile— a picture of him at a party with his arms around some girls, another with him doing a victory pose presumably after hiking, and one with him holding a fish. He feels his mouth curl in disgust, about to give into the urge to reply and give this guy a piece of his mind, before he realizes he’s pretending to be you. He takes a deep breath, closes out of the app, and puts down his phone.

He’s starting to regret this.

Bakugo’s phone has gone off 15 times in the last hour. Bakugo has also felt the need to strangle some stranger through the phone 15 times in the last hour. Your (read: his) profile has existed for less than 60 minutes, and you already have a whole address book of nobodies trying to link with you and get a quick fuck.

He feels the familiar beginnings of a headache creeping up the back of his skull. He thinks he might need a drink. Why did he decide to do this again?

In hindsight, he probably should have known this is exactly how it was going to go down.

What was that saying? Curiosity killed the cat?

Yeah.

He was never great at self-preservation in the first place. So this, the feeling of overwhelming jealousy, frustration, possessiveness brewing up a storm threatening to pour out of every single fiber of Bakugo’s being— was no surprise.

He watches as the numbers at the bottom of his screen increase steadily, before tapping on the star icon.

‘99+ likes!’ it reads. Over 99 people who saw your profile and thought you were beautiful. Bakugo pales, and he can feel the cold sweat building on the nape of his neck. He grips his phone, knuckles turning white. Is he shaking from anger or nervousness?

Anger because all these guys think they even have the slightest chance with someone as amazing as you. Nervousness because what if you decide that they do? You wouldn’t actually leave him for one of these guys, right? Right?

None of these men would walk through hell and back for you. They don’t know how you like your coffee, the details of your skin care routine, how you like to binge watch shows and talk Katsuki’s ear off about them (not that he ever minded, of course). They don’t know you, not like he does. Katsuki looks at you like you hung the moon. In fact, he’s pretty convinced that you did. Everything good in his life— the warmth, the color, the joy,— is encompassed by you. He’d be damned if he lets some greasy little nobody take that from him. Because the moment Bakugo fell in love with you, you became a part of him— inextricably and indefinitely. Loving you has become so intrinsic to him, that even the mere thought of another person loving you or looking at you the same way he does has him going insane. Not that anyone could love you like he did, though. That thought brings him some comfort, but not for long.

One last notification he sees sends him spiraling. Bakugo swears that he can see red. That’s when he deletes the app, and throws his poor phone in some random corner of the living room, which is markedly one of the smarter choices he’s made as of late. He marches to your bedroom with a fire burning in his chest.

He stops short of the door and finds you sitting at the edge of your shared bed, fresh out of the shower. You’re applying lotion, and he watches the cream absorb into your skin wordlessly, in awe at how overwhelmingly beautiful you manage to look in the most prosaic of tasks. For a second, he almost forgets the reason he was upset in the first place.

Your hair is still damp, water droplets accumulating at the tips, and Katsuki feels his mouth run dry the minute he watches a stray bead fall and make its way down your neck and stop perfectly in the dip of your collarbone. Your very existence is forever etched into his heart, every inch of you carved into his memory, but even still he can never get tired of looking at you. At every angle, in every lighting, he needs to see you in it. You could call him obsessed, but he’d simply laugh and agree, because what’s so wrong with that? Especially if it’s you.

You’re one to be studied— to be adored, Katsuki thinks, to the greatest capacity. It’s what you deserve. And what better person for that task to fall upon than him?

He finds himself naturally gravitating towards you, his finger tracing the same exact path the water had carved just moments before, wordlessly. You try to pay no mind, but it’s difficult as you realize just how close Bakugo was and how your towel barely manages to cover up your most intimate parts. One wrong move and you’d be exposed. With how things were playing out, and the predatory glint in the blond’s eyes, you don’t think your boyfriend would be too perturbed with your current predicament.

Katsuki presses a delicate kiss to your forehead before he crouches down. Suddenly, you’re at eye level with one another, his hot breath tickling your lips. You think for a moment he’s going to kiss you so you lean forward, lips waiting. But he merely grazes them before he sucks a deep bruise into the juncture of your neck, biting slightly.

You’re barely given any time to react before he’s grabbing the hand that’s securing your towel and ripping it away, the offending garment falling off your body. Your flesh prickles with goosebumps as its exposed to the sudden chill. It’s quickly replaced by the heat of Bakugo’s body as he pushes you lightly, your back hitting the mattress. He crawls on top of you, muscular thighs on either side of your hips, your head placed conveniently between his forearms. He’s trapped you, a nonverbal challenge for you to try and escape.

You’re a work of art, he thinks, but much more valuable than any pièce de résistance framed in any museum.

Beautiful, yes, but far too blank for his liking. He wants to ruin you, make you his own personal magnum opus. And so he does.

He presses a clothed knee against your bare cunt, pressing firmly. His lips continue their assault on your neck, leaving angry purpling bruises in their wake. Rough hands find your breast, and you moan in surprise when he gives both of them a harsh squeeze as he shoves his tongue into your mouth. Katsuki kisses you like a man dying of thirst, hungry for everything you can offer him and more. It’s all too much already, the way he’s kissing you has your mind reeling, and you have to turn your head away for a moment to catch your breath. Katsuki thinks it’s a moment too long without you, so he coaxes you into locking lips with him once more. A wave of mischievousness washes over you, prompting you to take your boyfriend’s lower lip in between your teeth, biting down lightly.

You feel his breath hitch, before he lets out a low groan as he grinds his clothed dick against your bare wetness. He returns the favor, sucking on your bottom lip before letting it go with a wet pop. He pulls back with a lazy smirk, his lips pursing together to scatter messy kisses down the base of your throat and down your chest, alternating between sucking and biting at the flesh.

He gives you a good once-over, scanning every surface, committing them to memory. You feel the need to curl into yourself with how intensely those vermillion eyes are piercing into you, memorizing every single curve, scar, freckle like he’s done time and time again.

He drops down to his knees, broad shoulders bullying their way in between your legs, forcibly prying them open. He grips your hips, fingertips digging into the soft flesh, and drags you down the mattress until your legs are dangling off the bed.

“Jesus, Kats, be more gentle.”

“Shhh. I know you like it when I’m not gentle,” he chuckles. As if to prove a point, he pulls you down even further, giving a harsh bite to your inner thigh. He smiles deviously when you yelp. You try to pull at his hair but his reflexes are too quick, pinning both of your wrists down on either side of you easily. “Besides, this is the perfect height for me to eat you out, dontcha think baby?”

You want to chastise him for being so crass, so Katsuki, but the words die on the tip of your tongue the minute he gives a sweet, loving kiss to your clit, sucking lightly.

“You’re mine. I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this except for me.”

You’re not entirely sure what brought this on, but you find it hard to complain when Bakugo drags his tongue from your throbbing clit to inside your pussy, drinking everything you have to offer.

Your hands automatically try to find purchase in his blond locks, struggling against the vice grip Katsuki has on your wrists. He decides to take pity on you, loosening his hold so you can slip your hands into his hair, moaning appreciatively when he feels you tug. He rewards you by flicking his tongue on your clit over and over again, just the way you like it. He does it until your moans begin to pitch higher and higher, the same way that they do when you’re close. He doesn’t stop his ministrations even after you cum, riding out your orgasm until your thighs are shaking from overstimulation. He pulls away from you with a loud pop, taking in the sight before him.

He runs a hand up and down your thigh soothingly. “So fucked out already and we’re barely getting started, baby.”

Your mind is barely processing his words before you feel Katsuki’s erection brush against your stomach, his clothing haphazardly discarded on the floor. He taps the head of his dick against your clit to tease you, a feeling of satisfaction swelling when you cry out from under him.

He watches in fascination as strings of your arousal cling to him. He positions his length at your entrance, locking eyes with you as you hold your breath in anticipation. Katsuki likes you like this. Needy for him.

“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, you know that?” He slips into you with a stuttered groan.

Katsuki’s always been big. You never get used to the initial stretch, no matter how many times you two fuck. Still, that doesn’t stop him from sliding in with ease from the slick of your last orgasm. It easily coats his cock as he gives a few experimental thrusts. He groans in rapture. How do you manage to feel so good every time? It’s enough to drive him insane. Perhaps he already is.

“So fucking perfect, no wonder why all those losers want you.” He mutters out the last part, and you’re not sure if you caught that right.

“What?” He chooses not to respond, and you aren’t given the opportunity to think any further before your legs are thrown over his shoulders, Katsuki’s weight effectively pinning you in place. The stretch knocks all the wind out of your lungs, and all you can do is cling to Katsuki, nails leaving red, angry lines on his well-defined back.

He wastes no time before he starts drilling into you, hips slotting in between your legs perfectly. The position has him pressed against your clit, and your entire body feels like it’s been set ablaze, with Katsuki holding both the power to have it burn even brighter and the ability to extinguish it. And you’re almost there, you can feel your soul slowly ascending, your room filled with hymns of pleasure, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter, threatening to unravel along with your sanity. Katsuki can feel it too— the way you’re squeezing him tighter, how your gasps and moans have climbed just a note higher, how absolutely ruined you look, how he’s responsible for your current state. Which is exactly why he wants to push it even further, he wants to see how much you’ll break for him— and only him.

Katsuki cuts you off right before you can reach your peak, pulling out but making sure just his tip is inserted. You come to and take a look at your lover and marvel at the sight. He has a crazed look in his eyes. The way he smirks is absolutely wicked.

You feel distraught— having been so close but having it ripped away from you. You give your boyfriend a petulant pout.

“Katsuki,” you whine, slapping a hand against his sweaty chest, “Why’d you stop? I was so close!”

“Because I didn’t want you to cum yet,” he says simply. “You’ll be good for me, yeah? I’ll give my baby what she deserves, as long as she’s good.”

You roll your eyes, huffing. That won’t do for him.

As much as he loves seeing you indulge, he feels a need to punish you— at least a little bit to even begin to atone for being the wicked temptress you are.

“Don’t be a fuckin’ brat,” Bakugo growls, gripping your face with one hand, squishing your cheeks, causing your lips to purse slightly. “I said be good, okay? Wanna take my time with you.”

There’s a moment of respite, until you sigh in defeat, knowing better than to argue with him lest you wanted to dig your own grave. “‘Kay, ‘ki.”

He flashes you a smile. Obedient, just how he likes you. “Good girl.”

Katsuki draws his hips back, thrusting just enough to fuck his tip into you. He’s teasing. The amount of willpower on his end it takes not to cum is nauseating.

“You’re so pretty, aren’t you?” he rasps, one hand finding their way around your neck, squeezing just enough to make your head spin. Your hands reflexively grab his wrist.

All you can manage is a fucked out moan. Katsuki has to resist the urge to coo, about how he’s managed to turn you into a cockdrunk mess in such a short matter of time. The wave of possessiveness that’s been gnawing at the depths of his soul begins to seep out, and he’s reminded of the reason why the two of you are in this position in the first place.

He gives your throat another squeeze and a rough slap to your clit. “C’mon princess, answer me. Say it.” He slowly adds more and more pressure until your ears grow hot and air feels like a precious commodity.

“I-i’m pretty,” you manage to gasp out, tears spilling from your lash line as you begin to lose yourself between the space of pleasure and pain.

Good. Always so pliant for him.

“That’s right, baby,” he concedes. “So fuckin’ beautiful.” He punctuates the last word with a deep thrust, right against that spongy spot that feels so good. You’re so sensitive that it’s enough to send you spiraling into your second orgasm, walls spasming around him uncontrollably.

Katsuki stills, staving off his own release with all the restraint he can summon. He silently thanks whatever divine forces are out there that he didn’t cum the minute he felt the first clench of your orgasm.

He grits his teeth as he wills himself to move, trying not to get lost in the wetness that envelops him. You’re babbling now, senseless moans filling Katsuki’s ears like a sweet melody.

“Kats, please, I’m too sensitive—” You’re shaking now, muscles trembling with every thrust.

“But I’m not done with you yet,” he says simply, drawing his hips back with a particularly rough thrust. You choke back whatever you were going to say with a loud cry. “What’s your color, baby?”

You take a moment to answer, brain trying to comprehend the words just uttered to you. You look at Katsuki firmly, “Green.”

“Atta girl,” he praises, the drive of his hips beginning to shallow. He’s close, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out. But for you, he tries. “You’re mine, right?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, shivering as goosebumps dance across your skin.

“Say it,” Katsuki pleads, thrusts growing sloppy by the second. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m all yours, ‘ki.”

With that, Katsuki’s fate is sealed. He’s left groaning as a flash of pleasure shakes his very soul, filling you up with so much cum that it dribbles onto the mattress even while he’s still inside you. You follow suit, an embarrassingly obscene rhythm of squelching noises fill the silence as you spasm around his dick. He collapses on top of you, but he’s still coherent enough to not dump all his weight on you.

Your labored breaths fill the room as the two of you come to. Katsuki pulls out of you with a wince, still a bit sensitive. He gives you a peck on the lips before he drags himself down, settling in between your legs much like he was earlier.

You tense up, “Kats, wait—”

Any and all protests cease the moment Bakugo works his tongue inside of you, slurping lewdly as he drags out the mixture of your cum and his, swallowing. He tries not to stimulate your puffy clit in an attempt to be merciful, but you still feel yourself steadily climbing to what would be your fourth orgasm this session. While the past three have been intense and drowning, this one comes to you in waves, dull pleasure invading your senses as Katsuki continues to eat you out to clean you up.

He pulls away when you finish, your slick and his saliva coating his chin before he wipes it off on the back of his hand. You stare at his half-hard erection with a half concerned, half quizzical look. “Do you…” you lick your lips, “need help with that? I’m a little sensitive down there but I could use my mout—”

“Nah, I’m good babe,” he says earnestly, flashing you a smile that he only ever shows around you. “I’ll be back.” With that, your boyfriend leaves the room only to come back with a bottle of water.

“Drink.” You comply, finishing half the bottle graciously before handing it to him. He downs the rest before he settles next to you on the bed, laying on his side. You mirror him, shifting your body so that you’re both facing each other.

Katsuki reaches out, finger idly tracing random shapes and lines onto the bare skin on your hip. He has a pensive look on his face, one that he usually doesn’t hold after stolen moments like this; it’s an expression he wears when he’s in deep thought.

“Baby,” you call out. His eyes snap to yours, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah?”

“Whatcha thinking about?” You watch as a hesitant look flashes across your boyfriend’s face before he shakes his head.

“S’nothin’. Just thinkin’ about us two.” He speaks lightly. It’s always been difficult for him to voice his inner thoughts and feelings, so he tends to beat around the bush. You’ve learned that if you ever want something out of him, you’d have to pry a little. Katsuki always indulges you though.

“What about us?”

“Do you- do you think you’ll ever get tired of this?” He repeats himself, clearing his throat. The question is followed by a weaker, “...of me?”

You think it’s the most ridiculous question he’s ever asked, because the answer should be obvious. “I’d never get tired of you, Katsuki. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he replies automatically, “but if I ever do anything that upsets you, or if I get too much for you, or if I—” he’s rambling now. Yes, it’s difficult for Katsuki to talk about his feelings, but once you manage to get him to open up, all the walls of his self-made fortress come crashing down and it’s up to you to pick up the pieces.

“Baby,” you giggle, pressing a kiss to his lips, cupping his sharp jaw with one hand. “Look at me.” And he does— ruby eyes meeting yours. “I love you because you’re you. And I choose to be with you everyday. It’s not always gonna be perfect, no relationship is. But I know that I will always wake up and choose you.”

You can see the anxiety melt away from Katsuki’s body, shoulders slumping as he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Love you too, sap,” is all he says before he’s pulling you against his chest, squeezing you into a bearhug. You two stay that way until both of you are lulled to sleep.

You’re laying in bed with Katsuki, both of you dozing off when you hear a slight buzz from your phone on the nightstand. You squint as you try to read the notification, and make out that it’s from your friend.

Denki Kaminari: So did it work?

You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing, giving a quick glance over your shoulder to check on your boyfriend— fast asleep. You turn back to your phone, your thumbs making quick work at your keyboard.

You: Just like I said it would. Thanks Denki :)

Writing belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not share my work on Tiktok.

#bakugo x you #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugo x y/n #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #kat's writing #kat's demon time #tw.dubcon #cw.dubcon #tw.overstimulation #cw.overstimulation

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stllmnstr · 2 months

Text

champagne problems: part one

pairing: jake sim x f reader

genre: enemies to lovers, rich kids au, fake dating au, college au, angst, fluff

part one word count: 15.6k

part one warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, family drama, a fatal case of second son syndrome

soundtrack: boom - dpr live / bad idea! - girl in red / blood on the floor - kuiper / calico - dpr ian / comme de garçons (like the boys) - rina sawayama / lust - chase atlantic

note: another reupload!! hope this hopeless romantic college boyfriend jake hits just as good the second time around. happy reading ♡

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The second son of a wealthy family, Jake Sim has gotten used to always standing in the shadow of his older brother. From grades to girls to talks of becoming future CEO of the Sim Corporation, he’s no stranger to coming in second place. So when an opportunity arises for Jake to finally have the one thing his brother can’t and best him once and for all, he knows he’d be a fool not to take it.

There are only two problems. The first is that the thing his brother wants so badly isn’t a thing at all. It’s you, semi-estranged daughter of the Sims’ closest and most long-standing business partner.

The second is that Jake Sim can’t fucking stand you.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Fingers wrapping around the stem of your wine glass, you sigh. Punctuality may have been a steep order for someone who you suspect is running dangerously low on both common sense and regard for others, but twenty minutes? Really?

Your eyes land on the obnoxiously ornate grandfather clock next to the hostess stand. In a restaurant with ceilings so high you can barely see them and a carefully curated ambience that practically screams old money, it blends right in. It also gives you an updated timeframe on your would-be date’s tardiness.

Scratch that – thirty minutes.

Pulling out your phone, the absence of any new notifications is almost as annoying as whatever threadbare excuse you’re sure your date will offer you when he arrives. Glancing at the door, it remains devoid of any new patrons. Or perhaps rather if he arrives.

You’re running near empty on both pinot noir and patience, and you use the distraction of your phone to make you seem a little less pathetic. As if this entire restaurant isn’t already privy to the fact that you’re actively being stood up.

Well, you think wryly, at least you look good doing it. The off white ensemble you selected for the evening is Chanel, and vintage, at that. Usually you wouldn’t pull out all the stops like this for something as flimsy as a first date, but men like James Sim have an eye for this kind of thing.

Four years your senior, he’s already carving out a name for himself at twenty-five. You suppose it is a little less impressive, though, when the name he was born with already carries a legacy of its own in the business world you usually do your very best to stay out of. Rumor has it he’s already a shoo-in for the next CEO of his father’s company. When nepotism is that blatant, you can’t do much but scoff and raise a glass to it.

Scrambling for something to do to make your wasted time pass a bit quicker, you search up the social media profile of your would-be date. Honestly, you doubt you would learn anything more substantial about him if he actually bothered to show up than you will from scanning over his feed. In your experience, men like that tend to make up for their success on paper by lacking an actual personality and any sort of self-awareness.

Gym selfie. Scroll. Gym selfie from a slightly different angle. Scroll. Dog photo. Pausing, you suppress a small smile. The dog in the picture is pretty cute, if nothing else. Zooming in slightly, your eyes crinkle at the way the dog’s tongue lolls out of its open mouth in a grin. Well, at least he’s got that going for him, you suppose. A cute dog is enough to bump any guy’s ranking up a few points in your book.

If James Sim is nothing but a sum of his social media profile, it’s not like you expected anything else. After all, this is the heir to the Sim Corporation, a golden boy that was born with a crown on his head and a gold spoon in his mouth. Everything he’s earned has been laid out for him in painstakingly placed steps. His entire life has been guided by a heavy hand and the knowledge that he would one day inherit everything that makes his family worth knowing.

You probably wouldn’t be too concerned with showing up to first dates on time, either. Especially since you doubt he’s ever been denied a second.

Tonight is nothing but a blip on a radar, you’re sure. Something for a secretary to schedule and him to notice a day or five late. Maybe if you’re lucky, someone on his team will send a consolatory bouquet once he does realize the mistake. He is still building his reputation, after all, and you could use a fresh set of flowers for your apartment.

With another slightly pitiful sigh and a final swig of wine, your glass is empty and your optimism is shot. A second glance at the clock says that thirty-eight minutes have now elapsed since your scheduled meeting time. And in your opinion, that’s thirty-nine too late for a first date.

Retrieving your coat from the back of your chair, you figure tonight will be remembered as nothing but a waste of a good outfit. Besides, you suppose forty minutes of aimless scrolling is ultimately less painful than the inevitable headache this date surely would have been had he bothered to actually show up.

Suddenly, you frown. You won’t complain if this date never actually happens, but you may end up with a slight problem. Although you haven’t been on the best of terms with your mother in a long time, tonight was meant to be the final bullet point on a list of favors you owe her.

As you pull your coat on, you consider the best way to frame the events of the evening. Lean into the whole ‘getting stood up’ thing in an effort to earn some sympathy points? Lay out the facts in their most basic form, timestamps included? Emphasize the fact that you waited long past the obligatory twenty minutes for him to actually show up? Or leave your message chain as it currently is, tell her nothing at all, and let her assume what she wants?

They’re all equally iffy, you think. Risky in their own regard.

Signing your name at the bottom of the check, you scribble in a generous tip for the waitress who did her best to check on you often without making it obvious that she knew you were expecting company that never arrived, expertly skirting that line between overbearing and empathetic. At least someone will go home happy, you think, adding an extra zero for good measure.

Exiting the restaurant, you decide to make it two people. James Sim may be a hotshot at his father’s company, but you’ll be damned before you let him ruin your evening. Before you order the Uber back to your place, you add an extra stop at your favorite sushi place. Takeout in the comfort of your own home will certainly be easier to enjoy than whatever Michelin-Star concoction you would have ordered here anyway, eaten in small bites between forced conversation topics, awkward pauses, and too long sips of wine.

And an hour later, you’re polishing off the last piece of an absolutely divine rainbow roll, wearing nothing but silk pajamas and a face mask, with old reruns of your favorite show playing on the TV when James Sim finally glances down at the Rolex on his wrist. He’s finally arrived at the tail end of a meeting that’s running so far behind schedule he has half a mind to just walk out of it. He would, too, if his father wouldn’t actually threaten his life for it.

It’s late, James realizes. Stupid late. So late that he won’t have the time or energy to do anything but pass out by the time he gets home, which really sucks, because he was genuinely looking forward to his date tonight–

“Fuck.”

All he can do is curse, even as the shocked faces of a concerning number of top executives turn to look at him all at the same time.

…

Jake Sim is about to fail his econ midterm.

It will be at least a week before grades are released, but he already knows it. He can already feel it in the way the questions start to swim in his mind, making less and less sense the more he turns them over, in the way his gut fills with dread as the minute hand of the clock at the front of the lecture hall ticks closer and closer to the testing time limit.

And it wouldn’t be that bad, if it weren’t his second time repeating this course.

Oh, his father is going to have an absolute field day with this one. Jake can practically hear it now.

“You failed your midterm? After already failing this course twice? You know, James was actually the top scoring student in his economic section. Dr. Jeong still mentions his term paper every time I see him at the university…”

And that’s if he’s in a good mood. Or rather, if things at the company are going well. Jake doesn’t even want to consider the comments he’ll be on the receiving end of if the news of his failure finds his father already agitated.

Exhaling, he gives his exam one final once-over, scanning for completion more than accuracy. His brain is so fried that he knows it’s of little use to him now. For his own sake, the best thing to do at this point is turn his test in and send a silent prayer to whoever might be listening on his way out the door.

Leaving the lecture hall behind him, Jake puts his phone out of airplane mode and frowns at the two notifications that pop up on his screen. The first is a missed call from his brother, and the second is a message from the same sender, requesting that he give him a call when he has the chance.

Considering that it’s neither his birthday nor a major holiday, Jake is more than a little confused. Regardless, he honors the request, pressing his phone to his ear as he begins the walk back to his apartment. Although it’s significantly less spacious than his childhood home, he finds it far more welcoming in more ways than one.

The outgoing call rings once, twice, three times. Jake is about to be annoyed at the missed connection, but his brother answers in the moments just before he’s sent to voicemail.

“Hey, Jake.” Shocking. He actually bothered to check the caller ID.

“Hey.” Jake’s voice is careful, guarded. It’s not like his personal life is of any importance to his older brother, but he’s not in the mood to answer any questions. He won’t give James any reasons to ask. “I saw your message.”

“Right.” Jake can hear the shuffle of other voices, scattered movements coming from the other line. James sounds busy. Just like always. Usually, that would usually mean he’s distracted. But Jake has the odd feeling that he has his brother’s undivided attention when James adds, “I have a favor to ask you.”

Immediately, Jake’s stomach drops. There are very few things in this world that are not within James Sim’s grasp, and even less that are within Jake’s, relatively speaking. Whatever it is, he must be desperate, if he’s willing to enlist the help of his little brother.

“Okay.” Jake’s voice betrays none of his sudden anxieties. “What is it?”

At least James spares him the agony of suspense. “You know ___, right?”

Jake frowns. Sure, he knows of you. Just like he has a vague idea of every one of his family’s business partners and their immediate kin. Particularly the ones that are the same age as him and attend the same university. But it’s not like he’s close with you, not like he’s ever had an actual conversation of any substance with you.

Especially since the minimal interactions the two of you have had did not leave Jake wanting more. The only child of parents whose last name is on the front of the most successful law firm within a thousand mile radius, you strike him as everything he’d expect you to be.

Spoiled. Entitled. Vapid. Out of touch with any version of reality that doesn’t consist of you getting everything you want at the exact moment you want it. He supposes it’s a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, considering his own upbringing, but he’d like to think that he’s earned what he’s been given, at least partially. Especially since most of it has been his brother’s hand-me-downs. And it’s not like his father has ever been in the habit of doing him any favors that don’t come wrapped in criticism, comparison, and disdain.

Although rumor does have it you and your mother haven’t been on speaking terms since you left for university, Jake imagines it’s probably because you wanted to bring the limited edition Versace to campus with you, and she insisted it would be safer at home.

Oh, well. Whatever designer dispute happened between you and your mother is no skin off his back. Jake has his own problems to worry about.

One of them being his brother’s question that still lingers on the other line.

Weighing responses in his head, Jake finally settles on, “I guess.” It’s his best attempt at being noncommittal.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t do anything to dissuade his brother. “Do you have her number by chance? My secretary should have taken it down, but she can’t find it anywhere.”

Jake balks, footsteps faltering. An equally distracted student walking behind him nearly stumbles right into his back. Wordlessly, Jake sends them an apologetic look before clarifying, “Her number? Like, her personal phone number?”

“What other kind of number is there?” And there’s the James that Jake knows. Annoyed at the perceived incompetencies of his younger brother, just as always.

Suddenly, Jake’s patience is running short too. James is the one asking for a favor and still has the gall to be annoyed with him. Typical. Jake’s words are clipped when he says, “No, I don’t have ___’s phone number.”

Jake expects that to be the end of it, but his brother won’t let it go so easily.

“Seriously? Don’t you two go to the same school?”

Jake rolls his eyes. “Right, because I have the entire student body on speed dial.”

There’s a pause on the other end. Jake half expects his brother to just hang up on him. After all, he’s never been able to take what he gets, to swallow what he dishes out.

What Jake does not expect, however, is the way James sounds so tentative when he speaks again. “Well…”

“Well what?” Patience already running thin, it’s all he can do not to snap.

“Do you think you could get it for me?”

Jake must be dreaming. This must be a post-exam punishment, a hallucination brought on by over exerting his brain too far for too long. “Do I think I could get ___’s phone number for you?” he repeats flatly.

“Is there an echo in here?” Asshole. At least he’s consistent.

“Just an echo chamber,” Jake mutters away from the receiver.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Jake stops for a moment to fiddle with his keyring as he walks up the stairs to his apartment. “No, I can’t get her phone number for you.”

“Why not?”

The key won’t line up quite right. Jake tries again, frustration seeping through. “Because I have better things to do than run stupid errands for you. Why don’t you drive here and get it yourself?”

“Trust me, if I thought she’d give it to me, I’d be there in an hour.”

The lock on his door finally clicks open, and Jake all but throws his bag down after kicking off his shoes. “And what the hell makes you think she’d give it to me?”

“Well, you didn’t accidentally stand her up, for one.” James doesn’t sound embarrassed by it. Just matter-of-fact. Like a date is nothing but a business deal. Something to be rescheduled and redone if negotiations go sour the first time around.

It is enough to stir up some of Jake’s curiosity, though. “You went on a date with ___?” He supposes it makes sense. Even if the rumor mill and its rumblings about your rocky relationship with your mother ring true, you’re still your parents’ daughter. Still a perfect match on paper for the future CEO of the Sim Corporation. The king of a company and princess of a law firm. It’s a match made in heaven, he thinks ruefully.

“No, I didn’t. That’s kind of the whole point here.”

“Whatever.” Jake still doesn’t see what the hell he has to do with all this. “Why don’t you just look up her parents’ number in the company database and get it from them?”

Jake can practically feel his brother’s exasperation through the phone. “Right, because that would go over really well. Hi there," he imitates. “I’d like to make your daughter the mother of my future children. Care to pass along her phone number so I can get started on that?”

Jake suppresses a wince. “Jesus. I see why she stood you up.”

“She didn’t. I stood her up,” James clarifies. “On accident.”

Semantics. And not ones that Jake is interested in. “Either way. I’m not getting her number for you.”

“Yeah?” Jake is unsettled by the way there’s still no trace of defeat in his brother’s voice. There’s something almost sinister when he suddenly switches topics. “How are classes going?”

Jake’s lips pull into a taut line, disaster of an econ midterm still fresh on his mind. “Fine.”

“Really? Even econ? Third time’s the charm and all that?” Well, at least his brother can be counted on to consistently be an asshole.

“Why do you care?” The only thing Jake wants to do is end this call and crawl into bed for a well-deserved afternoon nap. Let his subconscious spare him from thoughts of his older brother and econ and you for at least a little bit.

James has other plans. “You must have taken the midterm recently, right?” Jake’s silence is confirmation enough. “You know, the only thing Dr. Jeong weighs more heavily than the midterm is the final paper at the end of the semester.”

A minute ago, Jake thought you were the last thing he wanted to talk about. The sudden shift in direction in this conversation is starting to prove him wrong. If there’s one thing Jake would rather discuss even less than his older brother’s dating life, it’s school. “What does that have to do with a–”

“And I think I still have my copy of the paper that earned me the top score in my entire section.” The smugness is practically palpable. “I might have to do some digging, but I’m sure it’s in my old files somewhere.”

Jake rolls his eyes, wishes the immediate comparison weren’t the first thing to rise to the forefront of his mind. Wishes it didn’t find him so lacking. Wishes it wasn’t narrated in the voice of his disappointed father. “If you’re trying to gloat, it’s n–”

“I’m trying to strike a deal. Jesus, no wonder you’re on track to be a super senior getting a business degree.”

“This is my third year,” Jake defends indignantly.

“And your third attempt at econ, which I passed in my first year.” He sounds like he’s settling a little too well into the CEO role when he proposes, “I’m trying to make it your last attempt.”

Jake would be lying if he said his curiosity weren’t piqued, even just slightly. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, little brother, that my term paper, my notes, all of it, are yours.” It sounds too good to be true. It has to be too good to be true. James is a lot of things, but generous and helpful are very rarely any of them. “As soon as you get me ___’s number.” And there it is.

Jake hangs up without bothering to dignify that with a response and hopes it sends a strong enough signal of his refusal. Then, he falls into his bed face-first with a groan.

And a week later, when his econ midterm results are finally posted, the first thing Jake does is let his head fall on his desk with an alarmingly loud thud that has Jay poking his head in the door to make sure everything’s okay. The second thing he does, a solid twenty minutes later, is send his older brother a text.

Jake [7:21pm]: You better start digging through those old files.

…

All things considered, you’re easier to track down than Jake expects. The university campus is big, and judging from the way he can’t remember ever seeing you in a class, the two of you don’t share a major. But the similarities in your social status mean you’re bound to run in some of the same circles, and Jake is able to use this to his advantage.

Ultimately, it takes very little digging on his part. First, he mentions your name to Jay in the middle of an upper body superset in the university gym. Jay frowns, setting the weights back on the rack.

“That name sounds familiar. I think maybe Heeseung knows her?”

That tidbit takes him to Wednesday night, which always finds Jake in the library at a statistics study group Heeseung also makes a habit of attending. On their way out for the evening, Jake stops him by the door.

“___?” Heeseung pauses for a moment in contemplation. “I’m pretty sure she’s friends with Sunghoon.”

And the third piece of the puzzle proves a bit more difficult to click into place. Sunghoon is harder for Jake to find, at least in a way that comes across naturally. Much like yours, Park Sunghoon is a name Jake hears in passing more than anything. He’s a friend of friends, a mutual acquaintance that Jake has never really had a conversation with and certainly doesn’t know well enough to interrogate for your phone number.

But his most recent midterm score is still looming over his head, and the thought of retaking econ again is so nightmarish it sends a shiver down his spine every time he considers it. At this point, there isn’t much Jake wouldn’t put on the line to pass the damn class. Including his pride, apparently.

So when Jake hears from Jay who hears from Heeseung that Sunghoon will probably be at the party Epsilon Nu Eta is throwing this Friday night, he starts to formulate a plan.

And he starts to regret said plan less than twenty-four hours later when he finds himself on the doorstep of a frat party. A frat party. He can’t remember the last time he came to one of these things. At twenty-one, he already feels geriatric as he tugs self-consciously at the sleeves of the plan black long sleeve he put on for the occasion. Something that will hopefully hide the questionable stains he’ll inevitably leave with.

Entering through the front door with hinges that don’t align quite right, Jake has one mission in mind: find Park Sunghoon. Find him and somehow convince him to pass along your number. There’s a fine line to be walked there, Jake thinks. If he comes across as too eager, it will just be creepy. Nonchalance is the name of the game, but he’s never been good at keeping his cards close to his chest.

For Jake, it’s a tall order, which means the only detour he’ll allow himself is grabbing a cup of lukewarm beer from the kitchen before he sets out looking for Sunghoon. The alcohol is an effort to break the barrier of his inhibitions more than anything. To make what he’s about to do feel a little less painful.

Making his way out of the kitchen, Jake wanders aimlessly for a few minutes. He doesn’t know much about Sunghoon, other than the fact that he competes for your university’s figure skating team and is undeniably handsome. A good-looking figure skater, Jake thinks as he turns down yet another crowded hallway, narrowly avoiding spilling his drink. Where would one of those be hiding?

He spends a few more awkward minutes asking around to no avail. Just when he’s on the verge of saying fuck it and making some sort of sacrifice to the econ gods instead, Jake bumps into the man of the hour on his way to the bathroom.

In the chaos, Jake doesn’t recognize him until it’s almost too late. “Hey,” Jake calls out, bladder all but forgotten for now. He’s trying to fake an air of coolness when he adds, “Sunghoon, right?”

“Yeah.” Jake thanks his lucky stars that Sunghoon must be at least two drinks in, because he doesn’t seem weirded out at all by the sudden question from a near stranger.

“I’m Jake.” He reaches his arm out for a handshake. Blinking, Sunghoon just stares at his outstretched hand as long, awkward moments bleed into each other. Eventually, Jake just lets it fall back to his side. “I’m, uh, in a statistics class with Heeseung.”

“Right on,” Sunghoon nods, still unsure if this conversation has a point to it. Luckily, the pleasant haze clouding his thoughts means he doesn’t mind too much either way.

Jake figures there’s no point in dragging this out by exchanging more pleasantries, and he has the feeling Sunghoon might start forgetting his own name, much less yours, if he lets this continue for too long.

“Listen,” Jake starts, trying to sound as not creepy as possible. “I heard that you know ___ pretty well.”

Sunghoon just shrugs. Jake can’t tell if he’s succeeded. “You could say that.”

“I know this is a strange request, but, uh,” Jake scratches the side of his head, “is there any chance I could get her number? I promise not to do anything weird.” Word vomiting, the extra details are spilling out before he can stop them. “It’s not even for me, actually–”

Sunghoon spares him the rest of a rambling explanation. “Sorry, bud. No can do.”

Jake’s stomach tightens in panic. He really, really just needs your phone number. It has him forgetting his earlier inhibitions, throwing caution to the wind even if he’s making a bit of a fool of himself in the process. “It’s for something important, actually. I’m kind of desperate–”

Sunghoon just puts a consolatory hand on Jake’s shoulder, interrupting his train of thought. “Look, man, it’s nothing against you personally, but I have literally never met you in my life. Besides, if I gave out ___’s number to every random guy that asked, I’m pretty sure she’d shave my head.” Sunghoon leans in close, like he’s about to share a secret. Jake’s nose twists at the scent of alcohol on his breath. “And between you and me, I don’t think I could pull off being bald.”

Jake kind of begs to differ, but that’s neither here nor there. He opens his mouth to plead his case again, but Sunghoon doesn’t even let him get a word out.

“Sorry, man, but I really can’t help you.” Pausing for a moment, he considers. “You said your name was Jacob, though, right?” He doesn’t pause long enough for Jake to correct him. “I could ask her if she’s cool with giving you her number–”

“Whose number are you giving out?” And if Jake thought this conversation wasn’t enough of a train wreck already, trust the timing of your entrance to be more disastrous than divine.

Eyes turning to you and your sudden intrusion on the conversation, Jake’s mind goes blank for a minute. And yeah, he kinda gets why his brother’s so hellbent on having a second chance at your time. Dressed in all black, your hair is loose around your face. Even though it likely costs more than most people’s monthly paycheck, there’s nothing inherently special about what you’re wearing. Still, Jake is finding it exceedingly difficult to look away.

It’s something in your aura, he thinks. In the way you carry yourself. Something that money can’t buy. Something that makes his gaze want to linger.

“___!” Sunghoon grins, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, wobbling slightly. You jostle at the sudden impact, inching away from where the contents of his cup slosh dangerously close to the rim. “What a coincidence. We were just talking about you.”

Your brow creases in confusion. Jake tracks the miniscule movement with parted lips.

“You were?”

“Yeah,” Sunghoon confirms, just at the same moment Jake shakes his head, “No.”

Turning your mildly concerned gaze away from your friend, you glance at Jake for the first time. Brow furrowing further, you cock your head to the side as your lips part in partial recognition. He looks oddly familiar, but you can’t quite place him. “Do I know you?”

“No.” Jake shakes his head again, a little too fervently. “I don’t think we’ve ever met. At least not properly.”

It’s an odd way of putting it. You’re about to ask him to clarify when Sunghoon cuts in, clearing up the confusion for you. “It’s Jacob,” he says, as if that should mean anything to you. Turning back to the boy across from him, he adds, “Jacob Sim, right?”

And that clicks things into place.

“Sim?” you echo, realization dawning on your features.

“Yep,” Sunghoon confirms.

Across from you, Jake says nothing. He doesn’t think he could if he wanted to. In fact, he’s pretty sure his life is flashing before his eyes.

“Sim,” you repeat one final time, jaw ticking in agitation as everything starts to settle. “I do know you.”

“Oh, really?” Sunghoon asks at your side, oblivious to the way your tone betrays obvious animosity. A distaste so palpable Jake can practically feel it radiating off of you. Turning back to Jake, he’s apologetic. “Sorry, Jacob. I guess I could have given you her number, then.” Sunghoon smiles sheepishly, as if he hasn’t just made things a million times worse. “My bad.”

Jake’s eyes widen in horror as he scrambles for some sort of defense, an explanation that will dig him out of this rapidly deepening hole, but you beat him to it.

“My number?” The look you give him has a concerning amount of venom in it. “Seriously? God, why are all you Sim men so obsessed with me?”

“That’s not–”

“First your brother views my LinkedIn profile twenty-three times after standing me up, and now you’re harassing my friends for my phone number?”

“Hold on. I’m not harassing anyone–”

“No,” Sunghoon agrees, nodding diplomatically. “Jacob was perfectly pleasant–”

“It’s Jake, actually.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, just Jake.”

“Sorry,” Sunghoon apologizes. Turning to you, he tries mediating again. “Well, like I said, just Jake was perfectly pleasant–”

“I don’t care how pleasant he is.” Your glare somehow becomes icier. “Leave me alone, and tell your dickhead brother to do the same.” Muttering to yourself more than anything, you add, “The last thing I need right now is you practically stalking me–”

“Stalking you?” Jake flounders, an edge of annoyance creeping into his tone. He’s not surprised to learn that you really do think the world revolves around you, but really? Stalking? “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s not like I’m enjoying this interaction any more than you are.”

You don’t back down, crossing your arms over your chest. The movement has Sunghoon teetering dangerously where he leans on you, but you pay him no mind, attention focused solely on the man in front of you. “Then why do you want my phone number so bad?”

“Like I was trying to say earlier when you wouldn’t let me get a word out sideways,” Jake bites, “it’s not for me. I made a deal with someone, and I told them I’d give them your number.”

Your gaze narrows. “Who?”

“What?”

“Who did you make a deal with?”

Jake hesitates, knowing how the truth will sound. Screw it – a lie would likely be just as damning. Still, it takes him another pregnant pause to eventually admit, “... My brother.”

Scoffing in disbelief, you double down on your ire. “Absolutely not.” Shaking Sunghoon off your shoulder, you turn to leave, dragging him with you. Jake’s eyes close; he can’t bear to watch his last chance at passing this semester leave him in the dust.

So much so that he pleads again, “Wait, ___. Please.” Jake is begging now, and he feels a little pathetic for it. Still, he can’t help the way desperation drives him to continue. “You can block him for all I care. I can’t explain everything, but my life is quite literally in your hands right now. I just need–”

“No.” The single syllable vibrates with finality. “Do I have to spell it for you? N-” you bite, enunciating so sharply Jake thinks you might draw blood. “O. No. I’m not giving my number to you or your flake of a brother or anyone else that so much as looks like they might have the name Sim.”

God, is the only think Jake can think as he miserably watches your retreating figure, Sunghoon stumbling along as you drag him with you. I am so fucked.

…

When Sunghoon finally emerges from your guest bedroom an hour before noon the next day, it’s to ask if you’d be kind enough to spare him some Advil. Even with a bad case of bedhead and the aftermath of overconsumption, he still manages to look good, albeit a little lifeless.

“I’ll do you one better,” you tell him, but reach for the small white bottle anyway, shaking out a few tablets and offering them to your best friend along with a glass of cold water.

“Bagels and coffee?” Sunghoon asks over the rim of his glass, with a little more alertness in his eyes than there was moments before.

“Bagels and coffee,” you confirm. A tried and true hangover cure, if there ever was one. And even though your head is feeling nice and clear, thanks to your trusty two drink limit that has yet to fail you, the local cafe a block from your apartment is very rarely something you turn down.

Thirty minutes later and a change of clothes later, the two of you are trading gossip and stealing bites of each other’s orders when the other person isn’t looking at the table in the back corner of the cafe. Sunghoon is just about to stuff another piece of your bagel in his mouth when he notices yet another notification light up the screen of your phone.

Sunghoon nods towards where it rests on the table, bagel suddenly forgotten. “Is that your mom again?”

“Yep.” Your lips stretch thin. You don’t even need to glance down at your phone to confirm. She’s been blowing up your notifications all weekend. “She’s been on my ass about the upcoming fundraiser event for days now. And reminding me about the utmost importance of bringing an appropriate plus-one.”

Across from you, Sunghoon straightens his shoulders. “I suppose it is about time I bust out the trusty old prom suit again.”

You sigh, sending your half-eaten bagel a forlorn glance. “I wish. She told me if I ever bring you again, I lose half my trust fund.”

“What?” Sunghoon looks affronted. “Why?”

You level him with a look. “Does soap ring a bell?”

Sunghoon splutters in indignation. “That was one time,” he defends. “And anyone would have thought those were edible! They were shaped like candies, and they were on a platter–”

“Soap presentation aside, I don’t think that excuse will work on her.” The dejection in your voice is apparent. “Besides, she’s already made it very clear that you’re explicitly forbidden from attending any future family events as my plus-one.”

“Whatever,” Sunghoon grumbles. “Keep all your stupid inedible soaps.” Pausing for a moment, he realizes that still leaves a giant question hanging in the air. “Who are you gonna bring, then? You know, it kind of is too bad your date with Sim number one didn’t pan out.”

You shrug, pointedly ignoring the way your phone screen lights up yet again. It really is a bit of a shame James turned out to be an unreliable flake. One that still hasn’t bothered to apologize to you or even give any sort of indication that he remembered your scheduled date. Still, you can’t think of anyone that would earn your mother’s approval faster. “I’ll probably just fake a stomach flu.” After all, you’re kind of out of options. “I thought about asking Jungwon, but he’s got stuff going on for his internship that night. A big economics conference or something.”

“Speaking of economics,” Sunghoon leans in conspiratorially. “I think I might have some intel on our new friend from last night.”

“How was economics the segue you went with? We were literally just talking about his older brother.” Giving him a look of disbelief, you add, “And what about that interaction gave you the impression that we’re friends?”

“Whatever,” Sunghoon brushes you off before he continues, “Anyway, I heard from Heeseung who heard from Jay that apparently little Sim is hot garbage at economics. Rumor has it he’s already failed the class twice and is on track to do it again.”

You’re not sure why he’s deemed this information relevant to you, but you’d be lying if you said it weren’t a little amusing.

“Really? Jungwon’s taking it now too, and he said that he sleeps through half the lectures and is still pulling an A.”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “Well, we can’t all be prodigies.”

Your lips flatten. “Pretty sure you don’t have to be a prodigy to not fail an entry level course three times.”

“Hey, cut him some slack,” Sunghoon argues. “He’s only failed it twice as of now.”

You scoff, entirely uninterested in the gory details of Jake Sim’s academic failures. “Whatever.”

“Either way,” Sunghoon says, “Jay told Heeseung who told me that’s why he’s so desperate for your number.” Confusion makes itself known on your features. You still don’t see the connection until Sunghoon adds, “Apparently he made some sort of deal with his brother that if he gets him your phone number, he’ll help him pass econ.”

A beat of silence passes between you. The barista at the counter calls out a customer’s name. It’s all you can do to not let your jaw physically drop open, mostly because–

“That is probably the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” Glaring at Sunghoon, you can’t believe the theatrics of it all. “How many times have I told you to stop believing everything Heeseung says?”

“Technically, Jay said it,” Sunghoon corrects. “And I don’t know... It kind of makes sense when you think about it.”

You beg to differ. “It absolutely does not. What is this, middle school? Are we passing notes behind the teacher’s back and making our friends ask our crushes if they like us back?” It’s ridiculous. Absolutely, utterly ridiculous.

There is no way. Absolutely no way that James Sim, heir to a multimillion dollar company, is wasting his time giving his little brother an economics cheat sheet in exchange for your phone number.

Sunghoon raises his hands in mock surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I just thought you might be curious.”

And you hate to admit it, but you kind of are. Even though every ounce of logic you’ve accumulated in twenty-one years of life tells you that Heeseung is a notorious gossip whose stories are just as much fiction as reality and your best friend is no better. Even though the whole thing makes absolutely no sense at all.

Even though you repeat it to yourself over and over for the rest of the day, that damn curiosity is still there. Pestering you and disturbing your sleep and leaving you wondering if maybe, just maybe, some things are entirely too ridiculous to be anything but true.

…

On Wednesday night, Jake and Heeseung are in the middle of a particularly brutal probability set when a sudden shadow looms over their favorite corner table on the third floor of the library.

Glancing up, Jake finds Heeseung’s gaze already trained somewhere over his shoulder. Jake can’t quite tell if the look on his face is confusion or terror.

“Mind if I join?” The request comes from behind him, posed in an oddly familiar voice. Heeseung is nodding in agreement before Jake has the chance to so much as turn around and identify the intruder.

All is revealed soon enough, though, when you slide down into the seat next to him, ignoring the way Heeseung scrambles to move his things and make room for you in the seat next to him. Instead, you busy yourself with setting your bag on the floor and pulling out your laptop.

It’s all Jake can do to stare at you blankly. This evening, you’ve traded the all black outfit from the other night’s party for something a bit more casual, something comfortable that blends in better to the background of a university library. The sudden proximity also means that the scent of your perfume is quick to waft over towards him.

Jake does his best to hold his breath before his brain can trick him into thinking he likes it.

“Stop looking at me like that.” A bold request for someone who just hijacked a study session and sat down with no explanation, but Jake wouldn’t expect anything less from you.

“Like what?” The words are out before he gives them permission. Across the table, Heeseung is staring too, but all three of you know the command isn’t for him.

“I don’t know.” Glancing at the battery bar hovering just above empty, you dig around in your bag for a moment for your laptop charger. Jake notes that you still have yet to look at him. Instead, you begin to busy yourself with typing something on your computer. “Just stop it.”

He hopes you can feel the way his eyes burn holes into the side of your head as his blank stare shifts into a glare.

Heeseung glances between the two of you. His outburst is sudden. “Oh! I just remembered.” He hits his head for good measure. The acting is wasted on this audience, though. Neither of you pay him any mind or even bother to glance in his direction. “I have to go, uh…” he trails off, finishing lamely with a rather flat, “somewhere else.”

“Great.” Your eyes don’t leave your screen, fingers still flying on your keyboard. “See you later.”

As Heeseung scrambles to pack up his unfinished statistics homework and high tail it out of the library, the air that has suddenly become stifling, Jake glances down at where your fingers are still moving.

Distractedly, he wonders how you can type so fast with nails that long, how you never seem to need the backspace key. How none of the pastel pink that coats your fingernails seems to be so much as chipped. A projection of perfection, he thinks, down to every last detail.

Moments pass, neither of you saying anything.

You still haven’t looked at him by the time you do eventually break the impasse. “I heard you suck at econ.”

And Jake actually cannot believe you. “Did you seriously hunt me down just to rub it in?”

“Rub it in?” That at least earns him some of your attention, even if it is just a brief, confused glance as your fingers pause in their typing. “It’s not like I’m the reason you can’t pass.”

“Believe it or not, you quite literally are.”

You sigh, removing your hands from your keyboard entirely. Then, before he can blink, you spin your entire body in your chair, eyes, shoulders, and knees all directly trained on him. Jake can’t help the way he flinches back a few inches at the sudden change in pace.

“Look,” you start. He can already tell by the way you wrap the single syllable sound in patronization that he’s not going to appreciate whatever you’re about to say. “I can tell that you’re not used to, like, having conversations with people, but usually what happens is you give someone enough information so that they know what you’re talking about.” He’s right.

And he’s quick to defend himself. “Maybe I could, if you’d let me get three words out without interr–”

But you’ve moved on already. “Is the whole ‘deal with your brother’ thing true?”

Jake lets the silence linger for a moment, looking at you in disbelief. “You literally just proved my point.”

You roll your eyes. “I knew what you were going to say, so I sped things along. Now answer my question.” You lay it out for him again. This time, even more directly. “Did you try to get my number because of some deal you made with your brother?”

He’s not sure why it sounds so ridiculous, narrated back to him in your voice. It’s not like it was a brilliant, foolproof plan to begin with, but the way you present it has him feeling about five inches tall.

“I…”

“It’s a yes or no question.” You really don’t beat around the bush, he thinks.

“Yes, okay?”

Looking behind you, you suddenly lean in a little closer. It’s all Jake can do not to flinch back again. Bringing your hand up to cup your mouth, it’s like you’re about to divulge a terrible secret when you whisper, “You’re that bad at econ?”

Jake just sighs. “Worse, probably.”

Frowning, you pull back a few inches. “Aren’t you a business major? Isn’t econ, like, pretty important for you?” If he were thinking clearly, Jake might wonder how you know that. But that only thing his mind has space for right now is annoyance. At you, at this exchange, at the way you so easily pick through his flaws and seem to have no problem laying them bare at his feet like he doesn't already know them intimately.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I got any say in my major,” Jake counters. He might have more patience for this conversation if he were having it with anyone but you, if you weren’t throwing his own insecurities back in his face with every follow-up question.

At that, something flickers through your eyes. Sympathy, maybe. “Fair enough.” Whatever it is, it’s gone before he can identify it. And it’s not enough to make you pull your punches. “Still though, that’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Jake doesn’t need the reminder. “Just get a tutor like everyone else.”

The thing is, Jake has thought about it. On more than one occasion. He’s even gotten so far as filling out the university tutor request form. He just could never quite bring himself to complete the ‘Name’ field without all of the potential consequences forcing him to hit backspace.

He might not be his brother, but he’s not stupid enough to think that his family would ever be okay with the Sim name anywhere near a tutor form. He tells you as much. “And listen to my dad tell me how much of a disappointment I am for not being able to even take a class on my own?” Jake laughs humorlessly. “No thanks.”

A beat passes. Two. You’re not done yet, but you at least have the decency to sound a little apologetic, a little tentative when you say, “Not to kick you while you’re down or anything, but I mean, that has to be better than failing twice.”

Jake just shakes his head. “You don’t know my father.”

You shrug but don’t press the matter further. Truth be told, you don’t know his father, but you do know fathers like him. You have one of your own. The third floor of the library doesn’t seem like the place for that conversation, though, even if you’ve already uncovered more than your fair share of each other’s secrets in the last ten minutes. “I guess not.”

…

Your phone is buzzing far too incessantly for a Saturday morning, much less this early on a Saturday morning. Internally, you curse Friday night you, who forgot to switch it into do not disturb before falling asleep. Face still buried in your pillow, you reach around your nightstand blindly with the intention of remedying that particular mistake and enjoying a few more moments of peace.

Before you can make good on your plan, you make the fatal mistake of reading the message preview before silencing your phone. And suddenly, to your neverending annoyance, you’re wide awake.

Mom [7:36 am]: Looking forward to seeing you next Saturday at the fundraiser.

Mom [7:37 am]: I also noticed that you haven’t indicated who you’ll be bringing yet. Please fill out the RSVP form when you have a moment.

Mom [7:45 am]: James Sim hasn’t RSVP’d yet. Are you bringing him? You should invite him if you haven’t already.

Mom [7:53 am]: I also never heard the update after your date a few weeks ago. Hoping no news is good news. I just spoke with his father the other day, and it sounds like he’s doing great things over at their company.

Mom [8:01 am]: I also heard that he volunteered a few summers ago rebuilding turtle habitats. Wow! I think you two would get along very well.

Groaning, you flip your phone back over. That about sums up how well she knows her only daughter, you think ruefully. If she thought wooing you with turtles was a good idea, she must have forgotten that you’ve had a lingering phobia of the freaky little reptiles since your friend from elementary school had a pet turtle that bit your finger when you were at her house.

Besides, you have serious doubts that’s actually how James Sim spent his last summer in university.

If memories from your social media scrolling serve correctly, rebuilding turtle habitats was code for partying on a yacht for a month straight. You don’t care how he spends his free time, but the way he already has your mother wrapped around his stupid finger is enough to annoy any lingering sleepiness out of your system.

Whatever. James Sim’s white lies are the least of your concerns now, and they certainly won’t solve your problems. If anything, you’re starting to regret not telling your mother anything about your failed attempt at a first date with him. Now, trying to explain that disaster of an evening would only sound like an excuse at best and a flimsy lie at worst.

And even if she did believe you, you still have the glaring issue of next Saturday and your lack of a pre-approved plus-one.

With one final groan, you pull your blanket over your face, trying and failing to banish any thoughts of your mother, James Sim, and the certain disaster next weekend will be.

Despite your best efforts, your worries linger. They follow you into Sunday; they start to make you desperate on Monday. With a diminishing handful of days left until the fundraiser, your anxiety only surges.

By the time Wednesday rolls around, you’re so stressed out that you can barely force your eyes to focus on the nearly blank Word document in front of you, all of the legalese and case details you can usually sort through in your sleep jumbling into one incomprehensible blob.

Halfway through your third reread of a paragraph that details the basics of copyright law, it strikes you. The seedling of an idea so utterly ridiculous it just might be your saving grace.

Your mother probably, definitely, couldn’t care less about James Sim’s so-called affinity for wildlife rescue. No, the only thing that makes him an appropriate candidate in her eyes for this Saturday has nothing to do with his personality at all.

It’s his name that she likes. His family name specifically.

In the middle of your favorite cafe, it hits you. The seedling of an idea sprouts roots, begins to bloom.

If one Sim is good enough to be your plus-one, then surely the other one would be too.

And you know exactly where he’ll be tonight. Glancing down at the time on your phone, you force your brain to think. Now, all you need is a plan. A way to convince him. Something he can’t refuse.

Closing the lid of your laptop, you smile. You know exactly what it is he wants.

Before you leave the cafe, you send a quick message to a friend. Set your plan in place so that the details are polished, irrefutable when you present it to him.

And then you set out for the university library.

When you find Jake and Heeseung sitting at the same exact table on the third floor of the library, Heeseung doesn’t even bother to stick around for the customary greetings. Instead, he takes one single look at you before offering another flimsy excuse about having somewhere to be. Or maybe something to do. You can’t remember, and it doesn’t really matter.

After all, the only reason you’re here is because–

“I have a way for you to pass econ.” Sliding into the seat next to Jake, the same one you sat in last time, you don’t waste any time before divulging the reason for your presence.

If Jake is startled, he doesn’t show it. Statistics homework forgotten on the table, the only thing you see on his face is pure, obvious relief as his shoulders relax.

“Thank god.” Reaching for his phone, he unlocks it, tapping and swiping until he’s ready to enter a new contact. “Give me your number, and I’ll–”

You shake your head, interrupting his train of thoughts. The way you smile makes him suddenly uneasy. He thought this was over, but now he’s not so sure. You confirm his fears when you say, “A different way.”

Now Jake just looks exasperated. If you keep up this habit, he’s about to start failing statistics too. Never mind the fact that he got his hopes up for what he is sure will turn out to be a giant pile of nothing. Still, he humors you. “What do you mean, a different way?”

“I mean,” you start, folding your hands across your lap. Jake has the distinct impression that you’re trying your best to be as convincing as possible. If nothing else, it does pique his curiosity. He’s never seen you be anything but annoyed or uninterested. It’s an interesting change of pace.“I have a friend who’s also taking econ right now and hasn’t scored below a 98 on a single assignment.” Jesus, Jake thinks. Must be nice.

And then you drop the bomb on him. “He said he’s more than willing to tutor you. For money, of course.” you specify, moving on so quickly he hardly has the chance to process what you’re saying. “And it’s not like you can’t afford it, but I’ll split the cost with you. For the principle of it all.” There’s a beat of silence as what you’ve just said settles into the air. “Oh,” you add, remembering the most important detail. “And he’ll be discreet. Under the table tutoring, if you will. No chance of word getting back to Daddy Sim.”

You do your best to give him your most trustworthy smile. Jake just stares back at you, mildly horrified.

When he finally speaks again, it’s to say, “... Please, and I mean this with every single bone in my body, please never refer to my father like that again.”

Not even bothering to look sheepish, the only agreement you offer is a mock salute.

Your poor taste in nicknames aside, it does seem like a pretty sweet deal from where Jake is sitting. He cannot fail economics again, and getting a tutor would mean that his brother couldn’t hold his success over his head, couldn’t claim to be the sole reason for it. And a discreet tutor would be even better. Not going through the official university system would mean a much lower chance of his father ever finding out he got some help along the way.

All things considered, and very much to his surprise, Jake is having a hard time seeing any downsides.

He goes through the list again. First, he gets to pass economics. Second, he doesn’t have to deal with his older brother in the process. Third, he gets a tutor that won’t pop up on his father’s radar, and all Jake has to do in return is–

Wait.

“Hold on a minute.” There’s an unmistakable edge of suspicion in Jake’s voice. There’s no way you went out of your way to find him a tutor, to help pay for it, without getting something in return. The wheels in his mind are starting to spin when he asks, “What’s in it for you?”

Next to him, you smile. It’s small, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you almost look nervous. “It’s just a small favor, really.” The expression on your face is not reassuring in the slightest. Still, you insist, “It’ll be easy, I promise. Just a few hours of your time at most.”

Jake knows better than to agree without details. And especially to anything you’re proposing. He’s already preparing to kiss his dreams of passing econ goodbye when he asks slowly,“What is it?”

You sigh, pretenses dropping. If you’re going to convince him now, you might as well do it with honesty. “That annual charity fundraiser event my parents throw. Your parents are usually there, I think. I don’t know if you’ve ever gone?”

Jake shrugs, frowning as he tries to remember. He’s not entirely sure either. After a while, fundraisers and events and family obligations all start to blur together. Although the name does ring a bell, albeit a distant, faint one.

“Anyway,” you continue, “my mother is insistent that I bring a date. Someone she considers appropriate company. You know, runs in the same circles and comes from what she would consider a good family.” Jake nods. He does know exactly what you mean. Picking up on his agreement, you add with a twinge of hopefulness, “Like I said, it would be easy. Especially for you, since you’re used to this kind of stuff. I wouldn’t have to train you–”

That has Jake rolling his eyes. “Let me guess. I get a treat for rolling over?”

The ice in your glare is half hearted. “You know what I mean. There are certain…” You weigh your words carefully. “expectations at these things.” Pausing for a moment, you add, “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t think you’ll eat the soap, even if it’s candy shaped and on a platter.”

If you were trying to clarify your point, you did a terrible job. Jake’s brow pulls downwards in confusion. “Is that supposed to be some kind of metaphor?”

“Unfortunately not.” You shake your head, but don’t explain any further. Sunghoon’s mishaps are not the point of this conversation. A mutually beneficial deal is. Which is why you ask him, “So, what do you say? Are you in or not?”

Is he? Jake says nothing, considering. Mentally, he goes through the list of pros and cons. Pros, he thinks. I get to finally pass econ, and I get to do it without my brother. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, gaze tracking the movement as you nervously bite at your lower lip. Also, I get to show up at an event with the girl he’s been trying to get for weeks now.

He’d be lying if that didn't spark a certain warm feeling in his chest, if it didn’t inspire a sudden bout of preemptive vindication. But there are other things to consider.

Cons, he continues internally. I have to spend an entire evening at an event hosted by your family and make them believe you don’t annoy the ever-loving shit out of me.

Weighing his options, Jake has one more question. “How long would it be?” he asks, and you try to stifle a grin, as if he’s already told you yes.

“The event is technically four hours,” you say carefully, “but I’m sure we could manage to sneak out after a solid two and a half.”

Jake nods, thinking it over a moment longer.

“Okay,” he finally breathes, hoping this isn’t some kind of terrible, elaborate trick, that he isn’t about to sign his life away on a dotted line.

For econ, he thinks. For what’s left of his struggling GPA. He can manage a single night at a mind-numbingly boring high society function. Even if it’s with you. “I’m in.”

And it feels a bit strange, he has to admit, as he watches you type your contact information into his contact list. It feels odd to have your number in his phone with no intention of passing it on. To know that he’s the one who will be using it to confirm the details of this Saturday. To know that his brother will be none the wiser and not at all closer to having any kind of access to you.

And if that strange surge of smugness makes another sudden appearance, well, Jake just figures that no one ever has to know about it.

…

Frowning, you give yourself another once over in the full length mirror that sits next to your vanity. A shimmering, pale gold, the evening gown that flows over your figure was hand-selected by you for this very event. For some reason, you’re having a hard time rediscovering the magic you’d felt trying it on in the showroom here in the soft, ambient light of your bedroom.

Objectively, you’re sure you must look good. The compliments the store attendants had given you were more than just customary, and gold has always been your color. Still, a slew of sudden uncertainties simmer in your gut. Is the slight sparkle too garish? Does the gold wash you out? Your worries feel too big for your bedroom, at too stark an opposition with the peaceful ambience as soft, instrumental music plays from your speaker.

But this particular Saturday evening has its ways of making you feel jumbled where you’d typically be steadfast. Insecure where you’d usually find confidence.

It’s true that your mother has always had a critical eye, and especially where you’re concerned. If you were to search deep enough, however, you’d find that she’s not the person you’re most concerned about making a lasting impression on tonight.

With no small effort, you resist the urge to smooth out invisible wrinkles in the bodice of your dress. A nervous habit more than anything, it’s only exacerbated by the way your phone is still devoid of notifications. The clock on your nightstand is a reminder that your date for the evening should be here any minute, should be sending a message as confirmation of his arrival at your apartment. But your phone is still silent, even as the hour of the fundraiser draws nearer and nearer.

Maybe this was a terrible mistake, you think, a new bout of uncertainties beginning to brew. It shouldn't be a surprise, really. Trust him to be just as flakey as his brother, with absolutely no regard for previous commitments or anyone else’s time. It’s just your luck that you get stood up again, this time by the other Sim.

You're in the middle of disguising your fears and distracting yourself by cursing him and his future bloodline when your phone finally pings with an incoming notification. Well, you think, grabbing your coat, feeling a bit ridiculous for the slight overreaction, you’ll have to look into removing generational curses when you have the time.

For now, you settle with pulling on your heels for the evening, ignoring the way you feel a bit wobbly despite the fact that you’ve walked in far worse. Locking your apartment behind you and striking a slightly unsteady pace towards the elevator down the hall, you whisper a silent plea that tonight isn’t as much of a disaster as you’re afraid it could be.

You watch as the numbers on the elevator screen tick lower and lower, a swirling mix of dread and excitement starting to swim in your stomach. When you finally reach the first floor, you’re surprised to see a familiar face waiting for you in the lobby. Something in you softens, albeit just slightly. You’d incorrectly assumed he would just wait for you in the comfort of his car and spent the whole ride down preparing to awkwardly check license plates in the near dark till you found the right one.

An overwhelming sense of self-consciousness returns to you under the brightness of the lobby lights. Unconsciously, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, wondering how long it will take him to notice you as you begin to walk towards him. You’ve only made it a few steps when it strikes you that he’s already distracted by something else.

Across the lobby, Jake Sim is engaged in a conversation with your doorman. One that looks slightly heated, by your judgment.

As you get closer, their words become more audible.

“Like I just told you,” The exasperation in your date’s voice is apparent. “I’m here to see ___.”

And you really should make your presence known, should step in and divert the brewing argument, especially since you seem to be the subject of it.

But then you look at Jake. Really look at him.

Realistically, you knew he would come well-dressed. That had been a big part of your reason for choosing him. The Sunghoon soap fiasco aside, you already knew Jake Sim wasn’t someone who needed you to put together a PowerPoint presentation on formal event dress code. He didn’t need you to explain the concept of complementary colors or the advantages of getting a suit tailored. Didn’t need you to explain that Converse were not an appropriate show or that no, a bolo tie is not acceptable attire.

Up until now, you were grateful for his pre existing knowledge. It saved you a lot of time and effort that you could use to focus on other things, like getting ready yourself. But it also meant that you were entirely unprepared to see him like this.

Eyes scanning him again, the immaculate fit of his suit is undeniable, as is the way his dark hair is perfectly mussed. It’s styled enough to avoid withering comments from elderly attendees who have the habit of asking how people see with their hair covering their eyes. But it’s also messy in a way that looks intentional, in a way that makes you want to run your fingers through it, tug at it just a little, just to tease.

It’s not just that he’s dressed well, though, despite the fact that he undeniably is.

No, what has you freezing in your footsteps is the fact that Jake looks good.

“And like I just told you, you’re not on her guest list. So I’m sorry, sir.” There is not a single trace of apology in your doorman’s voice. “But I’m afraid I can’t let you up. You’ll have to contact her and ask her to add you to her guest list.” You’re not sure how he manages to do it without losing any professionality, but your doorman makes it very clear that he thinks that will happen just as soon as hell freezes over.

Jake’s shoulders tense in visible frustration. You have to suppress an actual sigh at the way fabric stretches over the muscle there. “Again, I’m not asking you to. Could you please just let her know that I’m here? She’s not answering her messages–”

“How odd.” The sarcasm is unmistakable.

Getting a little desperate, Jake ignores the slight and continues anyway. “And we’re on a bit of a time crunch, so–”

From here, you can see the way his features start to twist in panic. It’s sobering enough to snap you out of your trance.

Cutting in, you make your presence known. “It’s okay,” you tell your doorman first. “I know him.” Then, you turn to Jake, putting on an award-worthy performance of false nonchalance when you explain, “Sorry I didn’t respond to your message. I was just on my way down.”

You watch as some of the tension drains from his features. “That’s alright,” Jake concedes easily. “I just wanted to make sure we weren’t late.”

A funny feeling, a new one, stirs again. Something in you softens. “I appreciate that.”

You can’t help the way you take another look at him. At his suit, his hair, his face. At him, at all of it.

Mistaking your gaze for scrutiny, he asks, a bit self-consciously, “What do you think? Will your mother approve?”

She will. There’s no doubt in your mind. But you’re not looking at him through her eyes when you tell him, “Yeah, you look good. Really good.”

The last part probably wasn’t necessary, but the way he flushes makes it almost worth it. Casting your eyes downward in an effort to hide a smile, you notice a detail that you missed earlier.

Jewelry. Gold jewelry. A handful of rings on his fingers and a delicate bracelet on his left wrist.

Suddenly, his message from last night makes a little more sense.

Jake [9:02 pm]: What color is your dress for tomorrow?

You [9:08 pm]: Gold. Don’t worry about trying to match. A black suit will be just fine.

Now, you’re grateful he didn’t fully listen to you, touched that he even bothered to ask.

Across from you, Jake is suddenly having a bit of a hard time breathing. The earlier near-fiasco with your doorman all but forgotten, you’re still admiring his bracelet as his eyes scan the length of you, throat bobbing by the time his gaze makes its way back up to your face.

“You, uh,” he coughs. “You look nice too.”

“Thank you.” You miss the way his gaze wanders, can’t seem to find a place to land that won’t dust the tops of his cheekbones an even deeper shade of crimson. “I’ve been looking forward to wearing this dress forever.”

And it is a nice dress, Jake thinks, but he’s not sure how to tell you that’s not what he meant.

Eyes finally landing on your feet, or rather, on the stilettos you’re wearing, he frowns. “I had to park kind of far away.” Meeting your gaze, he adds, “Why don’t you wait here? I’ll pull the car around front.”

“Okay.” Something in you melts a bit at his consideration, at the fact that he even noticed. “Thank you.”

And it is nice, you think, to not be beginning the evening with your feet already sore. To have someone pick up on the little things, even if he’s being compensated for it in the form of half-price tutoring.

Sliding into the passenger seat, you try not to sigh like a lovesick schoolgirl when he opens the door for you, when he puts his hand on the back of your seat as he reverses the car out of its parking spot. Get it together, you think. You’ve turned up your nose at far more obvious attempts at wooing you, and it’s not like Jake is here with you out of his own volition. The thought is surprisingly disappointing, as he adjusts the stereo, soft music filling the silence.

The drive passes like that, in a quiet that’s only uncomfortable if you look at it too close. Eventually, the soft melodies filtering through the stereo become a pleasant sort of background noise as you watch the world blur outside the window.

It would be smart, probably, to sort out your story for the evening and put together something coherent for when the two of you are inevitably asked invasive questions, but you can’t bring yourself to be the one to disturb the peace.

So when you arrive at the fundraiser a handful of minutes later, you just have to hope that the image the two of you strike together will be enough to stave off any unwanted questions for the time being.

Again, Jake opens your car door for you, offers a steadying hand as you step out of it. And when he gives you his arm as you enter through the front door of the venue, you take it, wrapping your fingers around his elbow. Pausing just outside the entrance, you watch as he takes a deep breath.

“Ready?” You’re not sure if you’re asking him or yourself.

Jake answers for the both of you. “Let’s do this.”

Walking through the lobby, you hand your jackets to the coat check attendant before entering the ballroom where the fundraiser is held. Despite your general distaste for this evening and everything it entails – you sneak a glance at your partner in crime. Well, mostly everything – you can’t help but admire the space around you.

Decorated immaculately down to every last element, your mother truly doesn’t spare any expense or detail when it comes to throwing parties. And like always, she somehow manages to have a sharp eye on everything and everyone, no matter how chaotic or busy. You’ve hardly taken two steps inside the ballroom when she finds you, approaches you will all the grace of a panther stalking its prey.

Pulling you in for a quick hug, the warm greeting she gives you is more for the benefit of onlookers than for you. And it forces you to remove your hand from Jake’s arm.

Looking over your shoulder, her voice is sickeningly saccharine. “And this must be James,” she beams, making eye contact with the wrong brother. Directing her attention to him, she gushes, “My daughter has told me wonderful things about you.”

Your eyebrows raise in disbelief. Jake stifles a laugh, expertly turns it into a cough.

Really? You think. She did all that digging on James’ so-called turtle philanthropy but never bothered to pull up a picture of the guy? And you mean, standard genetic similarities aside, it’s not like the two of them look that much alike.

“Actually, mom,” you spare him the expense of having to correct her mistake, “this is Jake Sim. James’ brother. We go to school together.”

“Oh,” her eyebrows fall at the slip, no doubt an unforgivable social faux pas in her mind. “You never filled out the RSVP form, sweetie,” she somehow makes the term of endearment sound like a curse, “so I wasn’t sure who you’d be bringing.” Trust her to find a way to make her mistake your fault.

Turning back to your date, she tries to remedy her mistake. “Jake, then.” She offers him a smile so forced you’re surprised her cheeks aren’t aching. Looking back at you, she fishes, “And he’s your…?”

Her dangling bait goes untouched. “He’s my plus-one.” It’s an intentional choice of words on your part. In your mind, it’s a neutral enough term that will hopefully let you navigate the evening without too many rumors or invasive questions about your personal life from people you only speak to out of reluctant obligation.

Jake is less used to the way your mother tends to poke and prod, the way she likes to examine the superficial details of your life with a microscope and make sure she can frame them in a way that will be pleasing for public perception. The way she doesn’t ask about your love life because it’s of any genuine interest to her, but because she wants sole control of the rumor mill’s production.

Next to you, he stiffens, feels as though he’s already failed some kind of test he didn’t know he was taking, wasn’t given any materials to study for.

There’s a lot to be said, probably, about the way you pick up on his discomfort so easily. The way your hand returns to the crook of his elbow wordlessly and gives a single, gentle squeeze. Reassuring him, putting his nerves at ease, as you begin to navigate your way out of this conversation.

“We’d better find our seats,” you tell your mother. The only reason Jake can identify the icy edge hiding in the superficial sweetness of your voice is because he’s been on the receiving end of it. On multiple occasions. Directed at someone else, he finds it almost amusing. “Wouldn't want to miss anything.”

“Of course,” your mother concedes, but there’s an undertone there. Jake can tell that there’s a war being waged here, battles and skirmishes in subtext and stilted pauses. He’s no stranger to the way high society likes to wrap up insults in niceties and skirt around delicate topics, but his own family has never been anything but blunt when it comes to their distaste for him and his choices.

He’s still not entirely sure what he just witnessed, but you’re dragging him by his arm to find your assigned table before he can sort through the offending slights and put on armor that may be of any use to you.

Carefully arranged, the maze of tables is easy enough to navigate. Each seat has a white place card in front of it, embossed with a shimmery golden script that matches your dress and holds the name of the guest who’s been assigned to sit there.

You drag Jake past a flurry of names and attendees he half recognizes, stopping only to grab two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter, handing one to Jake before you continue on your mission. After another minute of searching, you find your name at a table a few rows out from the far wall. Rolling your eyes, you can practically hear your mother’s reasoning: Not too close to the wall. Wouldn’t want people thinking I’m trying to hide her. But certainly not anywhere near the center of the room, in case she falls into that pesky habit of being an awful embarrassment.

Standing behind your chair, your eyes find the place card stationed in front of the seat next to yours at the same time Jake’s do.

“Oh my god.” The exasperation is apparent, even though your words are barely audible where you mutter them under your breath.

Because of course this hasn’t already been enough of a train wreck. Because of course the place card next to yours doesn’t have Jake’s name on it. Nope, embossed in the same shimmery gold is the name of another person entirely.

James Sim.

You turn to your date, apologetic. “God, I’m sorry. I really didn’t fill out the RSVP form, but I didn’t think she’d just assume…”

“It’s okay.” Jake gives you some grace. “Really, it wouldn’t be the first time.” And all things considered, he kind of is in his brother’s seat tonight. Attending an event that’s better suited for the future head of the company than his forgotten younger brother. Accompanying the girl that public opinion surely dictates would be a better match for him.

Still, you frown. Reaching for the small clutch that sits against your hip, you rummage for a moment before pulling out a black permanent marker.

Jake glances at you sideways.Your bag of the evening is tiny, barely even big enough to hold your phone. He’s surprised you managed to fit the marker in there, much less prioritize it enough to bring it with you. “You carry that thing around with you all the time?”

You shrug. “Never know when you’ll need to do some DIY vandalism.”

It would be a lie if he said something in him doesn’t soften, just a bit, when he watches you reach for the place card in front of his seat and put a giant, bold X over his brother’s name.

Your handwriting is no match for the computer-generated script, but Jake still likes the place card a little better when you’re done with it, likes the way his name looks next to yours when you set it back on the table, alterations completed.

“There,” you say, looking entirely too satisfied with your handiwork. “All better.” This time, you slide down into your seat before Jake has the chance to pull it out for you. Turning to him as he tentatively takes the seat next to you, he finds a small frown on your lips. “Wait,” you pause, realization written across your features. “Your brother isn’t coming, right?”

Jake shakes his head. “I mean, I don’t know for sure, but I doubt it. He has no reason to come. My parents are on a business trip, so they won’t be here either. And that also probably means he’s more swamped than usual at the office.”

Nodding, you take a sip of champagne. “Good.” Pausing, your lips quirk. “Although it would be kind of funny if he–”

“I think you’re in my seat.” The sudden interruption is flat, leaves no room for arguments.

Startled, the two of you spin in your chairs.

James Sim, despite his brother’s predictions, is in fact not otherwise occupied at his office. Instead, he stands directly behind his younger sibling, strikes an imposing figure where his shadow blocks the chandelier light behind him and extends over his brother and his altered place card.

Eyes flaming, he looks at where his name has been crossed out. Replaced.

Next to Jake, you remain silent, figure that you’ll let Jake handle this one the way he let you handle your mother. Far be it from you to step in on a family matter.

But then you notice the way Jake shrinks a little in his seat, hides a little further in his brother’s shadow. Reaches for the place card like he wishes he could take it back.

Sliding your gaze back to your least favorite Sim sibling, your voice is even, albeit icy, when you point out the obvious, “It’s not actually. Can’t you read?” Jake’s hand stops in its tracks, falls back to his lap.

A quick look your way is the only indication James even hears you. Instead, he continues his one-sided conversation with his brother, a barely controlled sort of fury crossing over his expression. “Hm,” he muses, glancing between the two of you. “Sure seems like you two are awfully close.” Casting an accusatory glare at Jake, he adds, “That’s funny. I could have sworn you said you barely knew her.”

Her. You’re sitting right there, and you don’t even get a name.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by Jake either. And it turns out to be just what he needs to find his voice. You’re almost proud of the sarcasm he manages to muster when he counters, “Yeah, well, this funny thing happens when you spend time together. You actually get to know each other.” Straightening his spine, there’s an unmistakable edge in his voice when he adds, “You know, when you actually bother to show up, that is.”

You hide a laugh behind your hand, albeit not very well. Glancing at Jake, a feeling swells in your chest that you can only identify as pride. You didn’t know he had it in him.

Reassessing his strategy, James turns to you, forcing a nonchalance that is entirely contradicted by the way his cheeks are rapidly reddening. “Actually, ___,” he tries, acting as if the last thirty seconds faded out of existence at his will. “I was hoping to speak to you about something. I’d love to get you a drink if you–”

“Actually,” Jake cuts in, doubling down. “We already have drinks.” Behind you on the table, the two near full glasses of champagne are undeniable evidence. The laugh that spills out of you this time is impossible to hide. Yeah, you decide, between the two of them, you definitely hate James more. Entirely amused, the only thing you wish you had is a bowl of popcorn as you root for the underdog. Not that he needs it. Much to your satisfaction, he’s been landing his punches well.

The giggle dies on your lips, though, when you feel the warmth of another hand suddenly cover the top of yours where it rests on your thigh. Gaze flaming, James follows the movement. Startled, your eyes fly to Jake. The only view you’re offered is of his profile as he keeps his gaze trained on his brother, the challenge in his features unmistakable.

The only consolation he offers for your sudden shock is a small, reassuring squeeze against your knuckles.

And then he says, “And I’d like to keep my girlfriend right here, actually.” At that, he does finally turn to you, eyes pleading, gaze imploring when he seeks your permission. Even though they’re performative in nature, his words aren’t solely for James’ benefit. “If that’s alright with you, that is.”

Girlfriend.

You were perfectly happy in the role of the observer, but now Jake has dragged you into the spotlight. Even though it pains you, you know you can’t leave him hanging. Not when that would mean a sure victory for his dickhead of a brother.

Girlfriend. The word echoes in your head, has you feeling dizzy.

“Of course,” you return hollowly, barely recognizing the sound of your own voice over the sudden rushing in your ears. “Boyfriend.”

When you smile at him, you make sure it looks sickeningly sweet enough to deter James. Your eyes, however, flash with a warning only Jake can read.

“You’re dating?” James can’t hide his shock, and his outrage is just as obvious.

“Yep,” Jake passes you a panicked look. But you don’t need it, don’t need his convincing. You’ve already dug yourself a deep enough hole. Trying to climb out now would only mean everything crumbles.

“Sure are,” you confirm with a tight smile. Turning back to Jake, you add, “Actually, sweetie, I need to talk to you about, uh…” you scramble for a moment. Finish vaguely with, “that thing.”

“Right.” Jake picks up on the threat in your eyes seamlessly, knows there’s only one acceptable response. “That thing,” he echoes.

“Yeah, so,” you turn back to James, barely acknowledging him as you start to stand. “We’re gonna step out for a minute.”

Jake is all but putty in your hands as you switch the positioning of your grip so that the hand that was resting on yours is now encased firmly between your fingers.

“See you later,” are Jake’s breathless parting words to his brother.

“Hopefully not, though,” you alter.

And then you’re dragging him back through the crowd towards the exit, and it’s all Jake can do to not run into the other guests or knock over the delicately balanced trays of hors d’oeuvres waiters carry throughout the room. He’s at your mercy all the way through the double doors of the ballroom, and you pause only briefly to determine which hallway is less likely to have people in it before deciding on the one to the right, towing him along behind you.

Once you’re far enough away from unwanted eyes and ears, you start wiggling every door knob you come across, growing visibly more frustrated until you finally find an unlocked one. Huffing, you push Jake into the spare storage closet first. Following him in, you close the door behind you.

The sudden change in space puts you in close proximity. Your nose is only a handful of inches away from his when you start laying out accusations.

“What the hell?” With the same hand than just dragged him on a half marathon, you shove at his chest. “Boyfriend?” You have half a mind to grab the broom standing next to you and start whacking him with it.

“I’m sorry!” Jake holds his hands up defensively. He doesn’t miss the way you’re eyeing every cleaning tool around you, no doubt deciding which would make the most effective weapon. “I panicked, okay? I just hate that smug little look he gets on his face–”

“Well you’re about to be seeing ‘that smug little look’ a lot more once he calls your bluff!” you half-shout, trying to convey your anger without alerting anyone to your presence.“The timeline barely lines up to begin with. It’s only been what, a few weeks since I was supposed to go on a date with him? And that’s not to mention the fact that there won’t be anyone to corroborate our story, because we don’t spend any time together, since, y’know, we’re not dating.”

Jake begs to differ. You’ve invaded more than one of his Wednesday night statistics study sessions.

But before he can point this out, you’re continuing. “Which means you’re gonna have to come up with some sort of believable explanation for why we break up after, like, three days.”

“Ugh.” Jake drags an open palm down his face. He hates to admit it, but you do have a point there.

Fingers running through his hair, his sudden stress is apparent. And you’re not trying to send him to an early grave, but would it have killed him to think before he spoke? Consider the consequences of starting the exact kind of rumor you’ve been hoping to dodge all evening? You get that his brother is not exactly an easy person to get along with, but was the short-lived victory really worth the potential fallout?

Across from you, Jake seems to be having the same realizations. A million thoughts whirring through his brain, he’s not sure where to place his focus.

After a moment, he settles on optimism. “Look, I think it will be fine.” The more he thinks about it, the more he convinces himself he believes it. “James has been up to his ass in company stuff since the second he graduated, so it’s not like he has extra time to check up on us or anything.” And even if he did, James would have no way of knowing who to ask. Jake has the sneaking suspicion his older brother couldn’t name a single one of his friends if his life depended on it. He would have no idea who to track down to corroborate your so-called romance.

“We won’t have to do anything,” Jake reasons. “I’ll just mention you in passing for the next few weeks if he happens to ask.” Even that should be simple enough. After all, Jake seriously doubts he will. “And by the time the holidays roll around, I can just say things fizzled naturally.” Easy. Simple. Uncomplicated. Mutual, and your pride and his both remain intact. “No big deal.”

Across from him, you weigh his words. It makes sense, yes, but there’s something starting to swirl in your gut that you don’t like. It feels a little too much like dread, like trepidation. Jake can read all of the uncertainty written across your face when you tell him, “I still don’t like it. My mother and your brother were both here tonight and already got different stories from us. This could get messy really quickly. I mean, what if our families start talking–”

“They won’t.” Jake shakes his head. “Your mom thinks I’m just a plus-one, and when my name comes up in James and my father’s conversations, it isn’t to discuss the ins and outs of my dating life.” Of this, at least, Jake is sure. His father couldn’t care less who he dates, as long as it’s not a liability to him, to the company. “Besides, we're university students.” Jake tries to lighten the mood, clear some of the tension. “Twenty-one and immature and all that.” For a moment, Jake imagines what life would feel like if that’s truly all he was, if that’s the only thing he got to be. No added pressure of a notorious last name and a reputation to maintain. Tucking that thought to the back of his mind, he decides he’ll mourn it later. “A short-lived relationship with a story that doesn’t quite add up is practically a right of passage. Not something to be suspicious of.”

You remain silent for a moment, but your hand doesn’t get any closer to the broom.

“Okay.” Some of the tension seeps out of your shoulders as you turn his reasoning over in your brain, nodding as his logic starts to piece together. “Okay,” you reiterate. You still don’t like it, but he’s right about one thing: it is the best option you have.

After all, there’s no way in hell you’re about to go tell your mother that your plus-one is actually your secret boyfriend, and you hate to admit it, but James’ little smirk is incredibly agitating. And it will all blow over, you’re sure. Like Jake said, James and your mother have no real reason to talk, and if Jake is convinced that his brother won’t be spreading this particular rumor, you’ll just have to believe him for the time being.

Letting him out of the closet first, you only imitate hitting him upside the back of the head once before you catch up to him, linking arms again before reentering the ballroom.

As the evening goes on, your worry starts to subside. Thankfully, every other part of the night goes perfectly to plan, even if you do have to force yourself to laugh a little too hard at one of Jake’s awful jokes when you catch James watching the two of you. The second glass of champagne you down helps, if nothing else.

Exactly as you predicted, after two and a half hours have passed, you and Jake are sneaking out the back exit, tiptoeing to his car as the fourth speaker of the evening continues their droning speech inside the event. Your mother is none the wiser to your early departure, and you hope it’s the first in a series of victories for the evening.

When Jake drops you off just outside the front doors of your apartment building, his smile is almost reassuring enough to put that lingering sense of unease to rest where it still sits in your gut.

Makeup removed, hair washed, and evening gown traded for pajamas, sleep is slow to find you a handful of hours later. Eventually, though, it does, and your rest is undisturbed, dreamless.

…

The next morning, with nothing but the pastel tones of sunrise and the sound of his brewing coffee maker to keep him company, Jake Sim stares at the message on his phone in abject horror.

Mom [7:32 am]: I can’t believe I had to find out from your brother! Family dinner next weekend at our place. Bring your girlfriend. :)

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

PART TWO IS UP AND LINKED ON MY MASTERLIST!

note: thank you for reading!! this is the version I had saved in my docs and it should be identical to what was posted before but in case there are any slight differences, that's why. I also sometimes make the fatal mistake of doing small grammatical edits in tumblr itself, so please excuse any minor errors as I didn't do a read through this time around. as always, I love to hear any thoughts you may have!

#enhypen fanfiction #jake fanfiction #enhypen jake #enhypen x reader #jake x reader #jake sim #jake fanfic #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #jake imagines #jake scenarios #jake x you #enhypen x you #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff

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kuroakikitsune · 2 years

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#love it #my so called friends havent noticed a thing #ive been quiet in the gc which is unlike me yet still seeing everything and even making tweets that will #up in their feed because i was curious #to see if they even bothered checking out my profile #and if they do they dont care #not a single one of them has checked on me #yet as soon as one of them is acting different i check to make sure theyre ok #and if i say something in the gc ill get fake sympathy #i thought at least one would check on me #my mental health has been shit enough lately and now i see how easy they forget about me.#and despite all that i am still doing things for them #which they are ungrateful for #i want to not post tomorrow's maybe then theyll realise something is wrong #my birthday is next month and im curious if ill be forgotten #everyone elses bdays were remembered #and one of their birthdays would've been forgotten if i hadnt steped in #and yet the others will probably take all the credit for it #this really is depression season #i feel so lonely #i just want a genuine friend #someone whosl cares back #and not only when it suits them #someone actually puts me before their other friends #if anyone reads all this #you must be really bored #tumblr is like shouting into the void #which ironically is almost comforting #i need to stop caring so much about people and become more heartless #but itd not in my nature

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bbyquokka · 11 days

Text

blow me instead?

– “Why should I blow out the candles, when you can just blow me instead?” prompt

pairing | lee felix x gender-neutral reader

genre | smut – 18+ is strongly advised!

cw | established relationship ; dom felix ; oral sex (blowjob) ; finger sucking ; cum swallowing ; deep throating

words | 2.6k ~ ( 2,693 ) + 2 fake texts !

notes | a lil smth for felix's bday. jisung's will be posted at a later date when i've finished it :( don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

m.list — wips list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

you forgot. you’ve forgotten the most important day of the year and you are currently kicking yourself for it. it’s felix’s birthday, the one day of the year that you look forward to every single year – but for some unknown reason, this year you forgot.

maybe it’s because you’ve both been really busy that you haven’t given it a second thought. you’re always well prepared for things like this, but this year it slipped your mind.

you knew you forgotten something but you couldn't tell what. you had that nagging feeling in the back of your mind but you pushed it to the side. “i’ll figure it out later” you always told yourself only to forget – once again.

it wasn't until the day before, did you looked at your calendar and see ‘15th sept’ circled and decorated in hearts, labelled ‘felix’s bday!!’ did you panic. that nagging feeling quickly turned into a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. worry and panic washing over you and coating your skin in a cold sweat.

it was way into the night to go to the store to pick something up. everything was closed. you thought about making him something but realised that you don't have the materials to do so. so a quick search on the web was your last resort. you hoped you could find something that would do next day delivery but alas, after several hours of searching and drawing up blanks, did you accept your fate.

you woke up the day of his birthday, feeling guilty and it's eating you alive. you don't think you'd be able to face to him without bursting into tears.

“i should at least wish him a happy birthday.” you mumble. you take your phone from the night stand and open up felix's contact. your thumb hovers over the green circle.

you hesitate. lips pursed together. you overthink. you can hear his sullen tone of voice. you can see his facial expressions twisted into sadness. your heart aches and feels tight, like someone is gripping onto it.

“fuck. i can't.” you throw your phone onto the bed beside you, watching it bounce from impact before rubbing your face with your hands and groaning. “maybe a shower will help me. i’ll call him then!”

you didn't call him. in fact, you spent the whole day avoiding him. you did pop to the store and buy a small box of cupcakes and some candles. you had this idea of surprising him by turning up at his place with a fancy birthday cake, thinking it's better than nothing, but when the store only had cupcakes to offer, that idea was quick to fizzle out.

the cakes are now sitting on the counter, untouched and unopened. you're in your lounge wear on the sofa, TV on but you're not tuned into whatever show it's playing. instead, you're on your social media, looking at what felix has been up to the whole day.

pictures of felix with chan, jisung and hyunjin. birthday wishes from friends and family flood his profiles. you're glad he's had a good day but that guilt just won't go away.

you've shamelessly avoided him the whole day because you couldn't face him. it's cowardly of you and you know it, but in a way, you just shut off.

you rush to your feet. your sock covered soles slapping against the floor as you rush to the door. you open it and come face to face with a not so pleased looking felix.

'“i see you're still alive.” you swallow. he sounds irritated. he's angry at you and you don't blame him.

“felix, i–”

“are you going to let me in or are we just going to stand out in the hallway?” he cuts you off. you look down at your feet and shuffle to the side, opening the door wider for him.

he walks in, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his coat as you close the door behind him. he notices the unopened cupcakes and pack of birthday candles by the side of them.

“so?” he starts as he looks at you. your chin is tucked into your chest, fingers fiddling with one another. you feel like a child about to be told off by a parent.

“i'm so sorry, felix.” you start, keeping your eyes glued to your feet. you don't want to make eye contact with him because the guilt of forgetting is eating you alive. it's making you feel incredibly nauseous.

“for?” his arms crossed against his chest as he looks down at you, brow raised. his authoritative and dominant aura seeps out from his pores and clouds you, suffocating you in the process.

“... i–uh…” you start, words lodged in your throat. felix lets out a small, irritated sigh. “I forgot about your birthday.”

your voice is small and cracks. you furiously blink back the tears that are threatening to spill from your lower lash line.

“you forgot?” you nod slowly. “is that why you've been avoiding me?” you nod again. “why?”

“because i thought you'd be angry at me… like right now.” felix runs his fingers through his hair slowly.

“i’m not angry that you forgot. it happens. i’m angry because you avoided me on my birthday.”

“i know.. i’m sorry.” you look up at him and chew your bottom lip. the cupcakes catch the corner of your eye. you rush to then, opening them and the candles before sticking one in the middle of the cake.

felix follows you and watches you with eager eyes. his gaze suddenly feels hot. he licks his lips as he admires your body, eyes flickering up and down.

he's undressing you with his eyes.

you turn around, holding the cupcake in your hand with the candle flame flickering. you present it in front of felix and smile.

“i got you cupcakes though. i know it's not much but i couldn't find anything on such short notice…” felix simply hums and looks at the cake, then you. “are you not going to blow it out?” you question after some seconds pass.

felix leans in close. his lips brush against the shell of your ear as his voice drops and becomes low and deep. his warm breath fans against your ear as he speaks.

“why should i blow out the candles when you can just blow me instead?”

goosebumps ripple along your skin. your heart suddenly starts racing. his breath feels ticklish against your ear, body temperature suddenly rising

“f-felix!” you squeak as he pulls back, finding amusement at your shocked facial expression.

“i assume you didn't get me a gift so i can consider a blowjob as one. and if you do a good job, maybe i’ll let you off the hook for avoiding me on my special day.”

“i–” you swallow a little, the heat from the candle is radiating onto your chin, adding to the increase of your own body temperature.

felix keeps his brow raised before trailing his hand down his torso to his groin where he squeezes and groans softly.

you can't take your eyes off him. you watch his hand squeeze and palm himself through his jeans. his veins bulging from his hands and arms.

he kicks his head back a little, lips parting and giving you a view of his outstretched neck. his adams apple bobbing with his swallows. soft moan and grunts leaving his parted lips.

“don't just stand there.” his deep voice brings you back down to reality. “blow me.”

you place the cake down on the counter (after you blow out the candle) before kneeling in front of felix. he looks down at you. his dominate aura making you feel small and vulnerable but excited.

you can feel the pit of your stomach tingle and bubble with excitement. warmth coating your groin. the tips of your fingers and toes feel electric from the surging feeling of excitement that's mixed in with hormones.

you reach up and slide your hands up and under his t-shirt. his warm skin hugs the tips of your fingers. the sturdiness of his abs flexing and tensing with his stomach moving in time with his breathing.

you feel his smooth skin, tracing his muscles with your fingers. the only thing that isn't smooth, however, is the small, yet noticeable happy trail that runs from his belly button and disappears below his jean waistband.

“mhm..” felix hums softly, your touch giving him goosebumps. you move your hands lower until they come into contact with the rough fabric of his denim jeans.

you look up at him, asking for permission with your eyes to which he gives with a nod of his head.

you unbutton and unzip his jeans slowly, revealing that he is wearing black designer boxer shorts. you notice how his bulge is slowly, but surely, getting bigger with each passing second as he anticipates and waits.

you pull his jeans down to his knees. you press the palm of your hand against his crotch, massaging him slowly. he huffs. his cock twitching against the palm of your hand.

you give him a few gentle squeezes. your touch is too gentle for his liking so he looks down again you with glossy eyes.

“harder.”

you oblige by wrapping your fingers around his clothed length and squeezing, hard. his hips buck slightly and a soft, deep moan falls from his lips.

you feel his warm hand pressing against your cheek as his fingers graze along your jawline before bumping against your bottom lip.

he slowly strokes your lip, chewing on his own.

“look at me.” you look up at him, making eye contact. two of his fingers nudge between your lips, gently pushing past them as you part them.

“good.” he whispers as his fingers caress your tongue. your brows furrow together, lips wrapping around the two digits as you suck. your saliva coats felix's fingers thoroughly whilst he pushes them further into your mouth until they're fully encapsulated in the warmth of your mouth.

the hand that around his clothed length has slowed down and is now loosely gripping him. your groin feels hot and excited, tingles in your stomach as felix explores the inside of your mouth with his two fingers before pulling them out slowly.

he gives a satisfying ‘hm’ before instructing you to continue with the nod of his head.

you whimper a little and reach up with both hands, grabbing the waistband of his boxer shorts. your fingertips brush against his hot skin, causing felix to shiver and huff in excitement.

you slowly pull down his underwear, revealing his happy train and v-lines slowly before his erect penis is revealed, bouncing and twitching at the sudden cold air hitting his hot shaft.

felix lets out a small breath of relief. the feeling of being restrained is no longer an issue. his hips buck slightly as you wrap your hand around the base of his shaft, stroking it slowly.

you watch the man above you slowly crumble. his penis twitching, pre-cum leaking from his slit. his shaft is hot against the palm of your hand, tip red and a few veins protruding along the sides.

your hand glides up and down his penis, rotating at the top. you use the pad of your thumb to gently rub his tip, smearing the pre-cum and making his tip glisten.

the sensitivity gets to felix. his hips rocking a little in your hand against his will, thigh muscles noticeable twitching. his head flops to the side slightly, half-lidded eyes looking down at you and watching your every move.

you lean in and lick the side of his shaft a few times before pressing your tongue against his tip and swiping it several times. his salty pre-cum coats your tastes buds, making you feel more excited.

you rub your thighs together as the heat in your groin is unbearable at this point. you're desperate for some sort of friction and attention but you're too into pleasuring felix. with the way felix is right now, you know he is going to be selfish and chase his own high.

your free hand cups and caresses his balls. felix hums softly as you roll and squeeze them gently in your hand whilst kitten licking his tip.

“c’mon, baby. you know i need more than that.”

you close your eyes as you wrap your lips around his tip. felix shudders and huffs a little, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. you gently suckle on his tip, swirling your tongue around it a few times before slowly lowering your head and pushing more of him into your mouth.

the corner of your lips feels stretched, mouth stuffed. you try to make your jaw slack but even that is a struggle with how thick and long felix is.

you struggle to put half of his length in, settling with a little under. you can feel his tip bumping the back of your throat and saliva is quick to accumulate in your mouth.

felix huffs and puffs, body shuddering and twitching. he reaches down and runs his fingers through your hair a few times.

you start to bob your head slowly. your hand stroking what your mouth struggles to reach. the head and hand move in synch with each other, providing equally, if not more, pleasure to felix.

he feels the pleasure rushing through his veins and burning. his toes curl against the floorboards and his grip on your hair tightening with each suck as a way to keep him stable and grounded.

“...fuck … baby, m-more..” he pants.

you oblige, increasing speed and intensity. felix's moans become more intense and breathy. his body and mind failing to comprehend the intense feeling of warmth and wetness from your mouth as well as the coolness of your palm.

“... oh fuck.. yes… so fucking good…”

this just encourages you even more. you remove your hand and place them both on his thighs for stability. you push your head further down his length until you can feel it down your throat.

you hold back your gag reflex, swallowing a few times to tighten your throat around him. felix lets out a string of incoherent moans and whispers.

your jaw hurts. your lips hurts. your knees hurt and you can't breath but listening to felix whimper and crumble makes it all worth.

you feel him twitch in your mouth. his hips thrusting involuntarily. he's a mess and he's close.

his balls are tightening and his body is coated in a thin layer of sweat. the sensitivity of his cock head is overbearing.

“don’t stop.. 'm close..” he struggles to say between his moaning. his strangled moans mix in with the sloppy, wet sounds of your mouth.

he lowers his head, chin tucked into chest as he whimpers. a string of “fuck” leaves his lips as he grips onto you. it doesnt take him long. his cock twitches in your mouth, hot fluid coating your tongue and throat.

felix whimpers and whines, huffing and puffing. his body twitches and jerks. you help him ride out his orgasm before slowly pulling away.

you look up at him, making eye contact as you swallow. felix shudders and strokes your swollen bottom lip, saliva collecting on the pad of his thumb.

“you did good, yn.” with felix's help, you rise to your feet. the numb feeling of pain on your knees becoming more noticeable now that your legs are outstretched.

“does this mean i’m forgiven?” you mumble. felix nods and strokes your hair gently.

“sorta.” you look at him slightly confused. “my birthday isn't over just yet, yn.”

“true… so, what do you want?”

felix takes you by the hand and drags you to the bedroom. he gently throws you onto the bed, stripping himself of his clothing as you lean on your forearms and watch.

“i want so much more.” he purrs as he crawls onto the bed, towering over you and kissing the shell of your ear.

“i’m a greedy man, yn. you should know that a blowjob is not nearly enough to satisfy me.”

#kwritersworldnet #wkcnet #straykidsland #skz smut #stray kids smut #lee felix #felix #lee felix smut #felix smut #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #felix x you #felix x reader #lee felix x you #lee felix x reader

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berzahoes · 10 months

Text

manifestation, baby! | tom blyth

summary: fans find out tom’s girlfriend has an old youtube channel where she reviewed the ballad of songbirds and snakes (and she definitely manifested her life)

an: the way i thought about this idea and quickly wrote it down so i didn’t forget it. i used to have an app that made those fake tweets but i’m just tired to make fake profiles 😭 maybe i’ll change it later idk

for the purpose of this imagine, let’s pretend tbosas book was published between 2017-2019

liked by zeglerslove, 444_bri and 35,377 others

tomblythxsnow apparently tom’s girlfriend has an old youtube channel where she reviews books and she reviewed the ballad of songbirds and snakes and she literally manifested her future 😭

lucymygf WHATTT WHATS HER CHANNEL NAME

tomblythxsnow it’s yn’s book corner. she hasn’t posted since 2019 ngl i need her to review a little life because that book destroyed me

nat76_ omg i used to watch her videos!! i’m still subscribed to her 😭 i remember only buying and reading the books she liked because i wanted to be her so bad

j4ckaszlol “if someone ever makes a movie adaptation of this book and casts someone attractive to play snow then i am sorry for the person i become” REALLLLL

graybairdsmockingjay dude the part where she said “i’m calling it now whoever plays young snow will be my boyfriend. movie studios always cast someone attractive as the younger version of a character!” MY JAW DROPPED SHE NEEDS TO TELL ME HER WAYS

“guess what rachel just sent me.” you heard tom say when he arrived to your shared apartment.

“wedding invitations?!” you gasped as you almost stood up from the sofa since you were watching reruns of criminal minds, but tom stopped you.

“no, it’s better!” tom sat beside you and showed you his phone. “why didn’t you tell me you had a youtube channel?” on his phone screen was your review of the ballad of songbirds and snakes, which had become a very popular video over the past couple of days.

you hid your face with a pillow and groaned. “don’t remind me. i just wanted to talk about my books and my family didn’t care. don’t watch it! it’s embarrassing!”

“i think it’s cute. aw look, your dog made a cameo!” he pointed at your old dog you used to have that walked into the frame.

“indi! no, come sit right here. oh . . . and she’s walking away. okay, anyways.” your younger self said in the video

“indi? why Indi?” tom asked you even though you were still hiding from embarrassment.

“after indiana jones. my dad and i loved those movies and he gifted me indi as a birthday present.” you confessed.

“love, don’t be embarrassed. i think it’s cute that you manifested your life according to the comments on instagram,” tom paused the video then cuddled up to you. “i won’t watch it if you don’t want me to.”

“it’s fine, i just didn’t think anyone would find it. we can watch it together.” you uncovered yourself and sat down properly to watch the video with tom. before he pressed the play button and together you watch your younger self review the book.

“i’ve read all the hunger games books at least four times and this one did not disappoint. but i do hope whoever ends up being cast as young snow is someone hot. i’m sorry it’s the rules! and they will be my boyfriend, i’m calling dibs.”

tom smirked at you. “if only younger you could see you now.”

“she would definitely think ‘wow, how did we pull this beautiful man?’ then be confused as to why the hunger games and fnaf is trending in 2023.”

liked by tomblyth, rachelzegler and 1,377,389 others

ynlovesbooks told ya. love you tomblyth ❤️

rachelzegler she is THAT girl

ynlovesbooks no u

everdeenx12 bestie he’s EVIL

ynlovesbooks he’s a walking red flag but my favorite color is red 😍

chamaletproblems pls tell me how you did this

ynlovesbooks i figured out who they were casting and kept him hostage until he agreed to be my bf

tomblyth true

#tom blyth one shot #tom blyth fanfic #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #tbosas

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siyzuii · 1 month

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⨳ 　 ʾ apps/sites 4 shifting 　 . 　 ♡

hi! this will be long but i made a list of apps/sites that might be helpful for your shifting journey. reminder that you don't need these to shift but they can be helpful with manifesting, keeping track of stuff, etc.

enjoy! divider cr

NOT SPONSORED BTW LMAO

﹒ 　 ⊹ 　 🝮 　 OO1: NOTION 　 ✩

description:

basically notion is an app for documents and stuff. i have to say this one's relatively known and it's such a huge life saver and i know that probably everyone knows about it already (as they should) but i'm gonna recommend it once again.

useful for:

scripting

dashboards you can add life goals & stuff here you can look up some templates/ideas and see what i mean LOL

cons:

i personally can not think of any major ones because this app is just that good

you do have to make new accounts for the text ai generating feature but i don't know if anyone would use that

additional notes:

i personally love how customizable it is! like you can make each page have a custom icon & header, add widgets, images, and so much more. it is so so so insanely helpful for scripting i'm telling you. or you can just be basic, that works too. there's also a bunch of script templates online including specific ones (like a better cr, fame dr, fantasy dr, fandom-specific drs, bla bla bla) and it's literally the only thing shifttok is good for imo. i'm a big fan of shifterium's templates but there's other people who make them as well and i'm sure you can find some recommendations!

★ 　 ₊ 　 ➲ 　OO2: CANVA

description:

a website + app where you can design stuff from headers down to presentations, posters, covers, etc..

useful for:

album covers for singer/idol drs

book covers for writer drs or something

fake social media posts but there's better apps out there and i'll list them here as well

and much more!

cons:

a lot of things (most of which i think are the good stuff) are paid but you can find similar replicas if you scroll long enough i guess..?? and there's a free trial but i don't know if that helps

additional notes:

definitely my favorite place to go when i need to design something tbh. there's a bunch of templates you can use and the layout is very easy to navigate through! and it's pretty easy to find free alternatives for the paid stuff you do have in there

₍ⁿ⑅..ⁿ₎ 　 ˇ 　 ⩩ 　 OO3: PARROT 　 ❀ 　

description:

parrot is an app where you can record yourself saying literally anything and play it on a continuous loop

useful for:

affirmations (manifesting??)

cons:

i'm pretty sure it's iOS only

additional notes:

personally i haven't used this app (i don't like my voice so i will not be recording myself saying affirmations thank yew) so i can't give it a rating but from the looks of it and based off of recommendations i've seen it's pretty useful. should be a white icon with a pink circle that has a white parrot in it!

≥≤ 　 ﹕ 　 ⤷ 　 OO4: BEHINDTHENAME 　 ◍

description:

a site where you can generate names & even life stories if you choose it (including height, weight, blood type, birthday, nationality and more i think?? at least it gives those for me). you can choose from different cultures and stuff like fantasy & mythology.

useful for:

finding a name & info for your dr self (which is literally you by the way don't forget that!) and potentially other people you'd like to script in

cons:

it really just helps to make a basic profile of a person so the things you can do with it can be a little limited

additional notes:

i prefer using this site for ocs instead but i think it can definitely help with shifting! oddly enough it also shows like a lifespan & cause of death so.. cool i guess!!!!

✦ 　 ﹕ 　 OO5: SOCIAL MAKER/dummy

description:

social maker & social dummy are both apps where you can replicate almost basically anything from the internet from twitter posts to facebook posts, youtube posts, and more!

useful for:

social media stuff especially useful for fame drs, streamer drs, idol/singer drs and so much more

cons:

both apps were deleted so you have to have had installed them before if you want to get them back

social maker is ios only i think?

additional notes:

yeah both apps are deleted but there's alternatives out there like twinote (for twitter) photonote (for instagram) canva (has fake social media templates as i said lol) and others that you can look for (because i personally only use twinote)

⋆ 　 ᶻᶻ 　　 OO6: HELLOFACE 　 ﹒ 　 ★

description:

basically an app for ai face swapping

useful for:

seeing what your face claim (if you have one) would look like on for example dances, fancams, interviews definitely useful for idol/singer/maybe fame drs

cons:

uses ai (i'm personally not a big fan of ai)

pretty underground so the chances that you might not like it are not low

✭ 　　 ❒︎ 　 OO7: ROOM PLANNER 　 . 　 ♡

description:

basically what the name says. it's a 3d home designer

useful for:

making your dr room/house

visualizing your dr room/house

cons:

has paid stuff

┊ 　 ‧ 　⬭ 　 OO8: COMBYNE

description:

an app where you can combine items you like from a wide selection of stuff to make outfits!

useful for:

making outfits for your dr

visualizing said outfits

additional notes:

there's other things you can do on the app like challenges where you can compete to make the best outfit i think?? looks pretty fun i might try it HAHAHA

yuh so i got a little lazy here at the end & i know this is prolly not very helpful because most of these apps/sites are pretty well known but maybe just maybe.. i helped someone out...

HAPPY SHIFTING!!!!!

#reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting #shifting realities #shifting community #shifters #shifting blog #shifting antis dni #shifting diary #siyzuii

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ventismacchiato · 6 months

Text

RAFAYEL HEADCANONS

canon complaint, established relationship

sorry guys, can u tell i have a favorite

matching everything. phone charms. earrings. nails. socks. you name it, he’ll buy everything in two.

begs you every other day to get a matching tattoo with him. he’s even drawn up multiple designs for you to choose from and will keep asking you until you eventually agree, how could you refuse?

hates cats, says he’s allergic (he’s not) but will run out the room when your cat walks in when he’s staying over. one time you asked him to feed it when you were away on a mission and you watched through your cat cam as it took him fifteen minutes to get the bravery to even get five feet near your cat.

so very chronically online. he’s a certified yapper. you’re his only follower on his private twitter and best believe he’s posting every single thought he has, and he expects you to reply to every single one. also asks you to match profile photos, but he has commitment issues so you guys change them almost every week.

you usually wake up to at least one voice note from him, minimum of five minutes long. you got used to playing them as podcasts as you got ready for work.

honestly he already probably gets his nails done, but will let you do them for him. more so force you, he’s lazy. but if you like to have yours done he would be able to do the prettiest designs for you.

aquarium dates are his favorite, no need to get a guide because rafayel will talk your ear off the moment you’re inside.

boy who cried wolf. fakes being sick for your attention so much so that you don’t even believe him when he actually is. not until thomas tells you that rafa has been whining about missing you in bed.

clearly has abandonment issues and gets upset when you don’t let him know where you are or if you’re okay. he’ll show up at your apartment the few times you pass out from a mission and forget to reply, ready to be mad at you. but the moment he sees your wounds and tired eye bags he loses any ounce of anger he once had.

love language is quality time, doesn’t matter what you’re doing as long as it’s together. he’s the type to tag along when you need to go grocery shopping or pick up something. he just likes to be beside you.

he is a brat, so he’ll laugh as he watches you struggle to carry all the groceries back inside. but it’ll only last a few seconds before he scoops them from you. if you guys go to a carnival together his immediate thought is to win every prize there. it’s only when he’s sucked the poor booths dry is when you have to tug him away.

claw machine dates are weekly and mandatory, but if you think you’re getting a turn think again. he gets too into it and forgets to share. you’ve come to learn you just need to pry him away from it

always follows the sidewalk rule but in return will make a big deal out of you opening doors for him since you’re his bodyguard. he’s the girlfriend in the relationship fr

that’s not the entire time though, when it’s just you two and he’s all worn out from being annoying all day his tone will go softer and his gaze warmer. he loves you he really does he just showcases it weirdly

constantly asking, morelike begging, you to stay the night. even if you have work the next day he says he needs you to fall asleep. it’s happened so many times you eventually brought one of your uniforms over and some clothes so you could spend the night and still go to work. it’s hard not to give in to him.

loves pda. if it was up to him he’d have his hands on you constantly. will get sulky if you don’t hold his hand when you go out.

much like xavier i don’t think he would enjoy working out. but if you need to go to the gym to train he’ll sit on a yoga ball beside your treadmill and talk your ear off. he’ll spot you on the machines but won’t go near anything. he will offer to sit on your back as you do push-ups though. you decline.

nsfw

probably a switch but after seeing his tipsy invitation and ebb and flow scenes he’s giving he prefers to be on the bottom. probably bratty at the beginning but according to the cards he gives in pretty easily, letting mc tie him up and referring to you as master likeeee. i feel like he just wants you to enjoy it more than he wants to enjoy it. gets off at seeing you get off type of deal.

he’s giving pillow princess vibes but if you ask he’ll give you the same treatment but tease you the entire time tbh he’s sooo bratty but i can’t see him being a hard mean dom. like he’ll give into you but make you work for it. edging kink all the way

“hmm, should i stop? i can’t let you finish this quick.”

“wow i didn’t know you were so sensitive here.”

“i haven’t even used my fingers yet and you’re already this wet.”

100% down to try any sex toy can you imagine him buying some sort of tentacle dildo as a joke cus he’s a mermaid but then you end up actually using it on him one night

#rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #rafayel x y/n #rafayel x mc #rafayel x gender neutral reader #rafayel headcanons #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #love and deepspace headcanon #love and deepspace headcanons

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personasintro · 1 year

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Mutual Help | #48

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 15.5k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

The asphalt smells earthy from the April rain showers you've luckily avoided just in the right time. By the time you've walked out of the donut shop, the very short rain that came in quick bursts has stopped and you've had a good chance to get into your car without your clothes getting wet.

During the day, Jungkook has messaged you Jimin and Taehyung will be joining you tonight – just a casual movie night – so you've decided to buy donuts for all of you. Luckily, you ended your work just in time and surprisingly, you aren't as tired as you usually are after working and you kind of can't wait to hang out with your other two friends.

When you come home, they're already there playing a video game and that's when you can hear the shouting as soon as you open the front door. Jungkook and Taehyung are the ones who barely spare you a glance as you join them in the living room, still wanting to change to more comfortable clothes but at least they quickly greet you before the shouting continues.

Jimin who's standing beside the end of the couch, a bowl of snacks in his hands as he chuckles at your grimace you make once you hear the loud noises coming from those two. He has been watching the game, enjoying the extra curses they spill out so effortlessly while you stand there shaking your head at them.

You and Jimin greet each other, immediately going for a hug as you can't help but notice Jimin's visible muscles and toned chest thanks to the thin and tight long sleeve shirt he's wearing.

"Wow, Jimin," you gasp, grinning as you look at him, finding him giving you a grin as if he already knew what you're about to say. Well, it's not that hard considering your eyes are on his chest as your hands squeeze his biceps. "Have you been working out? Look at you!"

"Oh, shut up," Jimin chuckles as he sees your eyes sparkle with teasing, your hands letting him go. "Yeah, I've been joining Jungkook for a few sessions."

You knew Jungkook was hanging out with Jimin, among his other friends during different days like Namjoon today, but he didn't mention them hanging out at the gym. But knowing Jungkook, it does make sense.

"And how has that been?" you ask, laughing when Jimin dramatically rolls his eyes and sighs.

That catches Jungkook's attention and you notice their game round ended, as he gives Jimin a pointed look which makes you snort. However, it's very short-lived because your expression freezes as you finally notice the change on Jungkook you've failed to notice at first.

Your mouth opens, eyes glued to Jungkook who glances at you and notices your more than clear shock which makes him grin. His raven black hair is gone, trimmed to a short cut with a fresh undercut that shows his side profile perfectly, along with his sharp jawline.

Jimin doesn't notice your current state, continuing with your conversation with a whiny tone.

"He's crazy, he wants to kill me," Jimin complains right away, Taehyung snorting loudly as he takes a big gulp of a coke burping loudly right after which none of you pay attention to – you all are used to it by now. "Seriously, he's a maniac. He just doesn't know when to stop. His work out is so intense, I barely went home and I couldn't feel my legs, no fuck that, my whole body for the next few days."

You laugh, finally averting your eyes to Jungkook frowning but there is an amused smile on his lips.

"That's true, Jimin was close to crying on the phone the other day. I'm not even kidding." Taehyung reveals, Jimin nodding to prove his point as you grin at your friends.

"Well, it looks like it paid out. A few more times and maybe you'll be bigger than Jungkook." you say, teasing as you put the donuts down on the table as Taehyung praises you, jumping at the sight of food.

"Ha!" Jungkook scoffs right away, causing Taehyung to snort once again as you do the same while Jimin just watches amusingly. "He has to have a better work out ethic if he wants to get anywhere as good as me."

You roll your eyes at Jungkook, "Full of himself as usual, Jeon,"

If Jungkook hates anything, it is when you tease him about stuff like this. He takes working out seriously and even though everyone can hear the amusement in his tone, he actually gasps at your words.

"Where's your hair?" you ask, pointing towards his hair with a slight pout. It's been a while since Jungkook had his hair this short. It suddenly brings you to the Jungkook from two years ago – the only difference is he has more tattoos and a piercing decorating his body and face right now.

"Got it trimmed, it started to get annoying," Jungkook shrugs, while Jimin joins them on the couch and sits next to Taehyung. "You don't like it?"

A little perplexed by his question, especially when you notice his smirk and sparkling eyes as his question is set with an amused and challenging tone. Your friends remain unbothered though, Taehyung scolding Jimin for not sharing the snacks with him while you stare at Jungkook with a suspicious gaze.

"I do," you tell him slowly. "It looks great." you hum, aiming your gaze at Jimin instead as he turns around.

"I went with him after our work out, you should've seen the ladies staring at him," Jimin teases, wiggling his eyebrows at Jungkook who rolls his eyes. "There was this one grandma particularly that took interest in our Jungkookie."

Jungkook grabs one of the cushions, throwing it at Jimin while Taehyung bursts in laughter, most likely already hearing the story of the mentioned old lady while you roll your eyes at them, but not without a grin curving on your lips as you excuse yourself to change your clothes.

They barely acknowledge you anyway, bickering and laughing with each other as they tease the hell out of Jungkook who seems to be both amused and annoyed.

You seriously doubt they're older than you sometimes.

"...I'm telling, she's freaky in bed, kinky as hell. Not that I complain." Taehyung rasps out, gulping more of the beer Jungkook so kindly offered them and Taehyung didn't hesitate to accept him on that offer.

To Jimin's luck, he drove Taehyung here today so he refrained from drinking tonight, not letting his mouth on the loose as much as Taehyung is. But then, Taehyung doesn't need alcohol for that. He's not even drunk or anything, it's his second can of beer and tonight isn't about all of you partying and getting drunk. Just a nice hangout with a couple of beers.

"Didn't you say she freaked out when you touched her neck?" Jimin interjects, a little confused frown framing his face.

"Oh god," you whisper under your breath, taking a gulp of your beer to get through this conversation.

"Oh no, that's a different one," Taehyung waves his hand off at Jimin. "This one told me to slap her on her face."

Jungkook sits there, eyes widening at Taehyung's reveal as he stares with doe eyes at his older friend, listening to the conversation while you sit on the opposite side of them in a single chair, legs up and tucked under your butt in a comfortable position. That's probably the only comfortable thing about this conversation.

You've no idea how the topic of sex and Taehyung's sex partners even started. The next minute you know, they're already talking about sex and different things they tried in it.

"Did you do it?" Jungkook asks, tilting his head back as he drinks the rest of the beer, his throat bobbing at the motion as he swallows.

You can't help but stare a little, admiring his still styled and fresh cut hair from the distance. His hair is parted like it usually is, showing off his forehead along with the eyebrow piercing that's now even more eye-catching than before.

"Uhh, I kinda hesitated. Don't get me wrong, I'm into hard stuff but slapping a woman in the face–nah, I don't think it's my thing." Taehyung admits, pursing his bottom lip in thought.

"I don't think I would be able to do it, not even if she wanted me badly to." Jungkook admits this time, deep in thought as if he tries to picture the situation but ends up shaking his head slightly.

"What about you, Y/N?" Taehyung suddenly brings all the attention to you, your presence barely known until now because you stayed out of their conversation, simply listening to them while sipping beer in the meantime.

"What about me?" you shrug, "Has anyone ever asked me to slap their face?" you joke, causing Taehyung to roll eyes at you while Jimin snorts and Jungkook joins him.

"No, you idiot," Taehyung says, causing you to grab one of your slippers and immediately throw it at him. He dodges it with a cackle, grinning at you. "Are you into it?"

"Taehyung, please," Jimin shakes his head and just when you think he's about to tell him to shut up, he actually says; "Can you imagine Y/N wanting somebody to slap her face while having sex? She'd probably cut off the guy's dick if he ever tried to do it."

All of them laugh and you chuckle, shaking your head at them but Jimin is not far away from the truth.

It's no secret to you (and Jungkook) you like spanking but slapping your face? No, you don't think so. That sounds a little bit too much for you.

"True," Taehyung purses his lips, "Or maybe you're the one doing the slapping?" He obviously teases you right now, grinning at you while you stare at him dumbfounded.

"Yes, I'm ten seconds from slapping that grin off your face."

His grin drops, mouth opening in a dramatic gasp while Jimin bursts out laughing and Jungkook covers his mouth with his hand as he silently laughs.

Taehyung's expression doesn't last long though, his lips curving into another grin and you know he's just about to say something stupid.

"Not my cup of tea but we could try it. Didn't know you see me that way, honey."

You widen your eyes, Taehyung laughing at your caught off stare as he got you, clapping his hands.

"Yah," Jungkook interjects, sending a glare to Taehyung who is clearly just making fun and it's not the first time he teases you this way however, it's pretty rare for him. You're like his little sister, so he barely does that.

"Fuck off," you scoff at Taehyung, "You wish." you bite back, his mouth widening for a dramatic act as he grins.

"I mean, you'd have to get in line but–"

"You're disgusting Tae." Jimin muses teasingly, pursuing his lips as Jungkook agrees with a nod.

"What line? Please, I'd rather celibate for the rest of my life."

Taehyung and Jimin start laughing as soon as you say it, your own triumphal grin making it onto your lips while Jungkook amusingly smirks.

Luckily, the timer on your phone that you've set starts to ring, the reminder of a frozen pizza in the oven causing you to stand up as you tap onto your phone screen to turn it off.

"Thankfully, the timer has saved me from this disgusting conversation you guys have going on," you tell him, grinning as you see their scandalized faces while Jungkook just grins behind the can of the beer.

He knows Taehyung can get a little bit too detailed and open most of the time, Jimin following right after but surprisingly, Jimin hasn't been as open as Taehyung tonight even though he jumped into the conversation to talk about stuff you've refrained yourself from.

"I'm looking at you Kim Taehyung." you look at him sternly, trying to hide your smile and the response you get in return is Taehyung sending you flying kisses as you flick him off.

As soon as you're out of the living room, Jimin shoves Taehyung in the shoulder as he laughs.

"What was that?"

"I was just teasing her," Taehyung laughs, "She was quiet most of the time."

"Yeah, she is probably terrified by your gracious sex experiences you graced us with." Jimin snorts, glancing at Jungkook who listens to the two of them while tracing his finger against the rim of the can.

"She never talks about that stuff." Taehyung comments.

"Yeah, not everyone is so open to talk about it like you." Jungkook chirps in, giving Taehyung a pointed look as he shrugs because it's true.

Suddenly, Taehyung's face drops as he thinks of something and a worried look makes it onto his face. This time, it's not him making fun or anything, he looks honest as Jimin raises his brows in question as Jungkook does the same.

"Do you guys think I made her uncomfortable?" He sounds genuinely worried.

"Nah, she handled you pretty well," Jimin assures him, "She joked with you too. Don't worry."

"Jungkook-ah, what do you think?" Jungkook raises his eyebrows in surprise, pointing at himself as Taehyung nods. "Yes, you. You know her the most. Do you think I crossed a line?"

Does Jungkook think he crossed a line? It's Taehyung, he knows he makes inappropriate jokes sometimes and sometimes takes it too far away but all of you know him. You know him and if you genuinely felt as if he crossed a line, you'd tell him.

Was it necessary to joke about implying things? He's not sure. He's protective of you and even if it's Taehyung and his own way of joking, he would tell him off if he took it any further. He's your friend after all. Taehyung is harmless and cares about you too.

"Taehyungie, I think if you crossed a line you'd know it, trust me." Jungkook assures him, placing the can on the table as Taehyung sighs in relief while Jimin teases him, trying to lighten up the mood.

Jungkook stands up, excusing himself to help you with the pizza knowing you hate to cut the frozen pizza that tends to have hard crusts which makes it harder to cut it.

He finds you in the kitchen and just like he assumed, you're already struggling with cutting it while the tip of your tongue pokes out of your mouth and a deep frown adores your glowy skin. He chuckles, your eyes falling onto him for a split second as you return to your own task until Jungkook is next to you and he slightly bumps his side to yours.

"Here, let me do it." he tells you and you don't object, immediately handing him the knife as you move away.

"Fuck, it smells so good. I'm so hungry."

You've eaten some of the leftovers from last night but three hours already passed by. Thank god you remembered the frozen pizza you and Jungkook bought – the emergency food – like you called it.

Jungkook chuckles, still cutting the pizza into small triangles while you stand next to him, salivating at the sight of pizza. If he knew you were that hungry, he'd just order a fresh one. Frozen pizza isn't exactly the healthiest and tastiest food out of all options you have.

"Taehyung is worried he crossed a line with you in there." Jungkook tells you, voice quiet and soft as you look at him, brows lifted up as your mouth opens.

"Really?" you wonder, "He hasn't."

"I think it's the beer, whenever he drinks it he makes different kinds of jokes."

At that you both laugh as you agree with him. "He's an idiot. I know he's just joking. It's Tae, come on, I'm more surprised he is actually worried."

"I think he's getting drunk," Jungkook shrugs and you nod, leaving it at that. "Done." Jungkook sings out, putting away the knife as you pull out the plates for all of you.

"Thanks," you smile, watching Jungkook as he starts serving the pizza.

That's until he glances at you, laughing a little at the attention you suddenly give him. Before he can ask what are you staring at, you're already on your tip-toes patting the top of his head as you feel his short hair. It's still soft and bouncy, despite it's shorter than it has ever been. You run your fingers through his hair, smelling the expensive shampoo they use in the hair salons as you can see there's a slight amount of gel in his hair, holding it back from his face.

One can of beer is just enough to let your mouth on the loose and you spill your first thoughts shamelessly to Jungkook. "I love it, but what am I gonna tug you onto?"

Jungkook almost chokes on his spit, staring at you with big eyes as he sucks his bottom lip in. "Shit, don't say stuff like that."

"It's true," you giggle, adjusting a few strands of his hair that is parted in the middle. "Maybe I'll think about the whole face slapping thing." you joke, causing Jungkook to scoff as he slaps your hand away.

"Guess you'll have to find something else then." he hums and you hum in return, nodding.

"Maybe, or we will make it work." you tease, biting onto your lower lip as Jungkook stares at you with an unreadable gaze, muttering a curse under his breath.

"Don't tempt me, guys are here."

"Oh," you gasp, teasing him. "Now that I think of it, Taehyung might enjoy the show."

Jungkook immediately scrunches his nose and mouth, making you giggle at his grimace.

"I will give you a show," Jungkook mutters, slapping your ass as you jump, not even surprised such a simple act makes your skin and insides tingle. "I don't like the audience."

"Oh, you don't?" you continue teasing him, feeling excitement bubbling in your stomach. "Didn't you want to have sex in the forest?"

Jungkook snorts, "Who would be the audience? Squirrels and owls?"

You laugh, slapping your forehead in the process as your eyes are on him once again.

"Unless you're into that. Would you like to have an audience?" Jungkook asks you, cocking his brow at you as your grin freezes a little but that's until you let out a soft chuckle.

"No," you assure him, "You're enough." you tease, slowly inching towards him.

"Yeah?" he hums, looking down with you with a satisfied smirk as your eyes fall onto his lips. They glisten as he licks them, slowly biting on his lower lip before he lets it curl back into his typical, but never boring, smirk.

God, how much you want to kiss him. The last time you had sex was when Jungkook had decided to torture you by sitting on his cock while you made yourself cum. It didn't turn out bad at all, it was actually very fun and you have to admit, you caught yourself randomly getting flashbacks of it in the most inconvenient times.

It might not have been full on sex, but you enjoyed every second of it. Clearly, you can't have sex right now – not with Taehyung and Jimin in the next room. Just one kiss is all you can do, even though it's risky. It's not going to quench the thirst he sparked inside you but at least it's something. Do you want him to bend you over this counter and fuck you? Probably. No, not probably. Yes, absolutely yes.

"What are you thinking about?" Jungkook asks, although the smirk tells you he probably knows.

"How it's such a shame the guys are in the next room," you reply shamelessly, heart jumping against your ribcage at your own words.

Jungkook's eyes darken and he traces his fingers over your cheek, the softest touch causing you to sigh in content and shiver at the same time.

Even though what you did the last time was something completely new to you and quite adventurous, it still wasn't full on sex. And you miss cumming around his cock, him hitting you from the back while he spanks your ass while he is at it. Fuck, you've got to calm down.

Gulping, you can't look into his eyes and avert your gaze back to his lips.

"I kinda want to at least kiss you but it's risky." you admit, facepalming mentally as soon as you say it.

But Jungkook takes it lightly and you've surely boosted his ego.

You hear the music from the game playing in the distance and you wonder if you could at least steal one kiss, in a desperate hope it will satisfy you enough for now. You know it won't. Kissing with Jungkook barely ends with that – something you have done only during sex this time. That's how it should be. Maybe you could think of this as a foreplay?

"That's a tough decision," Jungkook ponders and you know he is doing this on purpose, making you do the first move as he just stands there and even leans against the counter as if you're having a casual conversation.

And you wish you could find him annoying to the point you would drop it but here you are, salivating at him wearing one of his short-sleeved tight shirts that shows how buff he is.

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you wonder if it's worth it or not but before you can decide, Taehyung's voice and footsteps booms from the living room as he approaches the kitchen. You barely have any time to step back and put some distance between you and Jungkook, so it's not suspicious.

Still, Taehyung eyes you suspiciously as soon as he faces you, glancing between you two.

"Where the hell are you guys? Are you cutting it into different shapes?"

"Yes, to the shape of your small dick so it's taking a while." you reply, Jungkook coughing back a laugh before he bursts into laughter while Taehyung laughs at your joke, placing a hand on his chest as he gapes at you.

"You liar, you've seen it and you know it's not small at all!" Taehyung argues, reminding you of that one night two years ago when you both got drunk (actually all of you) but Taehyung was the worst.

The night was wild and you had to spend it at Taehyung's apartment, the two of you shared a bed which Taehyung completely forgot when he started taking off his clothes, accidentally tugging onto his boxers as well as you caught a sight of his penis. It's truly horrifying that you've seen it and you forgot about it, until now.

Everyone had a blast when you told everyone what happened the next morning, poor Taehyung clueless about that happening because he just couldn't remember but he has been smug about it ever since.

"Trust me, I've seen a big dick before and it's not yours." you tease him, using the opportunity to when Taehyung throws his head back as he groans and laughs at the same time, embarrassed by your teasing, you glance at Jungkook as you send him a look with a raise of your brow.

He grins, biting into his lip as he stops himself from reacting any further but you know he loves it.

"Yah! You can be really cruel sometimes!" Taehyung's voice follows behind you as you quickly take some of the plates, Jungkook doing the same as Taehyung doesn't shut up about the size of his dick for a good five minutes.

"Jin wanted us to go in June actually," Jimin informs as you're in the middle of conversation about a camping trip this summer.

Last year's camping trip was definitely interesting. You know this year is going to be different but you're still just as excited. You know everyone was more than down to repeat a good old camping trip the next year. You can't believe months have passed so quickly and it's spring already. Yeah, it's April and it's too soon to be organizing it, but it simply appeared in one of your conversations about everyone's plans for the summer and whether you'll go for a friend's trip. Also, there are more of you than just the four of you, so it's probably safe to ask everyone so they can clear their schedules for a long weekend in the forest.

"Jia will be close to giving birth at that time, so Jin wants to be there with her and June is actually the only summer month he can go."

Ah, you totally forgot Jia is pregnant.

Suddenly, you get flashbacks of the NYE trip where she and Seokjin announced they're expecting a baby. Long before things went downhill for Jungkook. You remember how happy Kiko was for her best friend. You wonder if she felt sad knowing a very similar path was ready for her as well. It had to take a lot of strength for her to be there and share her joy with Jia.

"Won't it be too cold in June?" you interject, shaking off the sad thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm not freezing my ass because of pregnant Jia."

You snort, rolling your eyes at Taehyung who simply just shrugs his shoulders.

"I don't know, June is a warm month. Maybe if we go at the end of it? I mean summer nights in a forest are cold anyway, so you have to pack blankets, sleeping bags and warm clothes for sure." Jungkook says, Jimin nodding along with him.

"Yeah, I think it's possible to sleep in the tents. Maybe we could try to find something with an accommodation nearby? Just in case it's too cold, so we could stay the night or nights there."

"Yeah, I think that could work," Jungkook nods, "In worst scenarios, we'll just sleep in cars."

Which is pretty inconvenient in Jungkook's opinion because you still need to turn on the heating and engine, so the engine can warm up. And even if the car gets heated, the heat won't probably last the whole night. But like he said, in the worst scenarios that can be an option too. Nobody won't let themselves freeze to death.

"Are we going to the same location or did you guys have in mind something different?" Taehyung wonders and you join, looking at Jungkook and Jimin since they're the ones who were organizing it with others last year.

"We don't know yet," Jungkook shrugs, "I think where we were last year was a good spot. We know shops around there and the way as well. But I don't think it would be a problem if we found something else."

"Yeah, I agree," Jimin says with a nod, "Do you guys wanna do something else in the summer?"

"Me and Y/N actually talked about going on a vacation. I think I talked about it with you guys too, right?" Jungkook asks in thought, trying to remember.

"Ah, yes!" Taehyung jumps in, showing obvious excitement at the word of vacation. It definitely sounds bigger than just a trip.

"Do you have any suggestions? I suppose we all want to go overseas." Jimin asks, looking at all of you as you shrug.

"Personally, I'd love to go somewhere where it's warm and there's a beach." you tell them.

"Yes, I'm joining Y/N." Taehyung immediately agrees.

"Yeah, that's what I had in mind too," Jungkook joins and Jimin does too. "But I think it's better to go to such destinations during the end of summer or during fall. The prices are better for everything."

Vacation surely costs a lot of money, especially if you're planning to go overseas and visit a nice country. You're kind of worried because sure, you have some money saved and you can still set some money aside for it, but you know flight tickets are going to be expensive either way. But you tell yourself you deserve to go on a vacation. It's also something all of you have never done together and it's going to be a new experience. Just the thought of it makes you excited because there is no one else you would want to travel with other than your friends.

"That's true," Taehyung nods, "I think fall sounds good. There won't be as many tourists, prices will be cheaper..." Taehyung names it while pointing with his fingers.

"Do you guys prefer a hotel or something different?"

"I think it'd be nice to rent a small house or apartment. You know, somewhere where we can cook for ourselves, I think that's more domestic and comfortable. Plus, hotels are sometimes way more expensives." you tell them while they listen attentively.

It's actually one way to save at least some money – to cook for yourselves a few times instead of eating in the restaurants. Sure, you will do that too for sure but if you cook for yourselves a few nights, you can still save up some money.

"Honestly, I don't care. Both sound good." Taehyung shrugs.

"Renting something sounds nice. Like you said, it's more domestic and homey."

"Yeah, I like that too," Jungkook says, giving you a smile and you return it. "Maybe we should start planning it soon while the prices aren't too high up."

"Agreed, we should probably think of the destination and then start planning it."

All of you agree. You're the first one to get to bed, the constant yawning making you realize you stayed up for too long. So you bid goodbye to Jimin and Taehyung, two of them staying for a little bit longer but once they leave, you're already sleeping. You're slightly awakened when Jungkook joins you in the bed at an hour that's uncertain to you, but you quickly fall back asleep.

It's the next day and Jungkook has been busy doing some work in the afternoon while you tidied his apartment and sorting out the laundry, even though there hasn't been that much to do to begin with. Jungkook cleans after himself, barely leaving any mess and the only sort of mess (that could be considered as one) was the full laundry basket.

Around lunchtime, Jungkook informs you he'll work on your bed tonight and you can't lie when you're a little perplexed because Oh, you actually should have your own bed. It's not a big deal and you tend to sprawl out in bed, something Jungkook likes to point out when you wake up and you're glued to Jungkook's side. It wouldn't be that bad, however Jungkook sleeps on the edge, close to falling off the bed. It happens only sometimes, not all the time and mostly you move to the middle but that's it.

Lost for words, you just nod and offer him help even though you've no idea how to assemble it. Jungkook was the one who did it when you first moved into your previous apartment – where you successfully moved out and gave keys to the owner's daughter. She was sweet, almost looking sorry that you had to move out.

You're not much help, Jungkook does the whole work as he tries to figure out how he assembled it since you threw out the manual, something Jungkook scolded you for. You don't remember the bed name and when you offered to look at it online, Jungkook just waved you off and told you he thinks he knows how to do it.

He does the whole thing in his sport shorts and a shirt, so you enjoy the view of focused and hot looking Jungkook with his brows furrowed.

Now that your bed starts to look like a bed, you realize how much you miss it while Jungkook fastens screws on one side.

It's actually better that you will have your own bed back. As much as you never cared about sharing a bed with Jungkook, you never thought of it that much because there were many occasions when you had to stay over and you were literally just sleeping next to each other, both cool with it, you know things feel different. Different in terms that you're not just sleeping next to one another sometimes.

It's good for you to have your own room, not to share a bedroom with Jungkook which seems much more intimate than when you were sleeping over in the past. A boundary is what you need.

"Are you going to just gwak?" Jungkook asks without even looking at you, focusing on the task in front of him before he finishes the screw, glancing at you across his shoulder with a smirk.

"I just might," you shrug, "Come on, take a break. I made lemonade."

Jungkook tends to fully immerse himself in whatever he's doing, wanting to finish everything in one go which is both ambitious and annoying sometimes. He listens to you though, standing up in the middle of your unfinished bed frame that's tilted on one side.

Joining you in the kitchen, you both enjoy the taste of fresh squeezed lemons and mint, Jungkook downed the whole glass in one go.

Looking at the clock, you have your dinner which Jungkook assists you with after you fill your stomachs with roasted chicken and rice. Stomachs full, you both sprawl on the couch while watching television for a good hour or so. When Jungkook insists on finishing your bed tonight, you tell him to do it tomorrow because he looks already tired as it is. He was waking up early, despite today being Saturday, so he could go to the gym in the morning and do some work after.

One more night sleeping in the same bed won't kill anyone and he has no plans for tomorrow.

At the end, he agrees and continues to watch television.

You go to the bathroom early today, wanting to pamper yourself with a good bathtub and some bubbles. You spend a good hour there, borrowing Jungkook's bluetooth speaker as you sing along to your playlist while shaving your body.

Once you make it out of there, Jungkook doesn't miss the opportunity to tease you how long you were in there saying "I thought you drowned". Flicking him off, he follows shortly after and takes a quick shower.

Not wanting to think of tonight too much, you did shave mostly for Jungkook, wanting your exposed legs to be as smooth as possible (even though you don't show them unless they aren't freshly shaved). Finally abandoning your usual fluffy socks you wear to bed (which Jungkook often teases you about), you wear one of your pretty nightgowns that is in soft blue color, satin with lacy edges. It's definitely one of those sexier ones but not one of those that screams "Let's have sex".

Your feet do get cold slightly, hating that as soon as you'll sleep in your own bed, you'll have to wear socks once again. You mostly went to bed without them, which usually ended up with your legs pressed against Jungkook's warm ones, since the man is a walking heater.

Thoughts interrupted with Jungkook coming to the bedroom, your whole mouth salivates when he walks in just in a towel that hangs so lowly on his hips that you fear it's going to drop any second. He notices your stare, looking down for a moment before his eyes are back on you.

"Sorry, forgot my boxers." he mutters, walking to his closet as he pulls them out from a drawer while you keep your eyes on him. He's turned to you with his back anyway, so it's not like he sees you eyeing him like a prey.

"All good," you hum, breath hitching in your throat when Jungkook suddenly drops the towel, exposing you with his perky butt and fine thighs. If you looked closely, you'd be able to see his dick hanging slightly between the gap of his thighs.

Unfortunately, he puts his boxers on, shielding his butt from your hungry eyes while being completely clueless to your stare. Once he turns back and walks out of the bedroom to hang his towel in the bathroom, you lay in the bed with your back leaning against the headboard staring at the spot where he has disappeared.

A minute later he joins you, not even bothering to wear a shirt which makes your skin hot. He grabs his phone, browsing through his social media while you do the same. That's until he puts his phone away once you do, staring at the ceiling.

Making yourself comfortable and laying your head on the soft pillow, you turn your body sideways facing Jungkook. Thanks to the night lamp still turned on on his side, you see his side profile perfectly.

"You know how we spoke about the camping trip yesterday?" He suddenly speaks up, filling up the silence with his soft velvety voice as you hum. "Jimin asked me if he should invite Hoseok as well."

"Oh," You let out, causing Jungkook to nod as he scoffs a little.

"Yeah," he sighs, "I mean... it's not just about me, or about the four of us. Jin and Namjoon are on it too. They most likely will want him there. I don't think it'd be fair of me to say I don't."

"So you don't want him there?" you ask silently, watching as his brows furrow slightly as he shrugs.

"If he doesn't go, I'm fine. If he does, I will try to be fine." he answers simply, your features softening even more.

"What did you tell Jimin?"

"Just that I haven't talked to him ever since he came to pick up... her things," Jungkook sighs once again, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Jimin and Tae told me I should probably talk to him. Apparently Hoseok is giving me space, so he doesn't want to reach out to me unless he knows I'm ready to talk to him."

"And are you? Ready to talk to him?"

He's quiet for a moment, shrugging. "Will I ever be ready?"

"I don't know, Kook," you mumble, "I think you need to ask yourself if you want him to be your friend or you're okay with him not being it."

"That's the thing. He is, was, my friend and he totally betrayed me. I trusted him, I, it was like a slap to my face when I found out he knew this whole time. He laughed with me while we hung out, we had deep conversations like none of that has ever happened,"

You stare at Jungkook, thinking that he's nowhere near over this and it's pretty understanding. Nothing has ever hurt him like this whole thing.

He feels the biggest sort of betrayal from Hoseok. His older friend that he has known for years. There were times when he was so grateful he introduced him to Kiko. He swore he will be thankful to him for the rest of his life. He knew he looked out for both of them, he was truly their number one fan ever since they started dating.

"Do you think I should talk to him?"

"I think," you take a deep breath, "you should do whatever feels comfortable. If you genuinely think you can't have a friendship with him, maybe that's how it's supposed to be. Or just wait and see how you feel about him in the couple of months. It's still very fresh, there's no need to deal with it if you're not ready."

Jungkook knows but he so desperately searches for an answer, for the right choice so he doesn't have to think about this so much that he gets a headache.

"Well, it's either I face him at some point because I kinda have to or talk to him before that can happen."

"I don't think Hoseok is bad," you confess, Jungkook's eyes fully on you as a slight frown frames his face but he listens to you attentively. "I understand why and how you feel about him. He has hurt you no matter what and you have every right to feel sad, mad and betrayed. But think about it this way... he did it for his best friend. I'm not saying it was right but,"

You give him a look.

"Imagine it's us. Kook, you would do the same thing for me like Hoseok did for her. This doesn't justify what he did, but he clearly wasn't too happy about her decision. But it was her decision and he had her back because he is her best friend. Yes, you guys are close friends but Kiko is his best friend. I just know that if something similar happened to us, we both would have each other's backs. Even if we didn't agree with one another,"

Jungkook looks straight ahead, letting your words ponder in his mind.

He knows you're right. He tried to think about it because it's something similar Hoseok told him too. If Hoseok had decided not to make Kiko tell him the truth, he would probably not know now. And it's like you think the same thing because you say;

"He messed up badly but at least he tried to do the right thing. Even if it meant losing you as his friend."

And it's exactly what a small part of Jungkook's good and empathic heart tries to tell him.

"I just can't see him without being reminded of it all. Reminded of her."

"You're still hurting, Kook. I really think you should talk to someone," He gives you a look. "Someone who isn't your friend."

"I'm fine," he insists and you sigh at his stubbornness, knowing pressuring him will do no good.

He's old enough to ask for help if he truly needs it.

"I think I will talk to him. Not now... but soon." he mutters more to himself, almost as if he makes a promise out loud so he really keeps it.

"Whatever you decide, I'm on your side, Kook." you remind him softly and that's when Jungkook once again realizes.

What an incredible person you are.

And he doesn't know if it's intentional, but it feels as if your words could be taken to Hoseok's situation.

He can imagine Hoseok saying that to Kiko.

Seeing how deep in thoughts Jungkook is (mostly noticing the hurt on his face) you break his thoughts off by tugging off the duvet off your legs. Scooting closer to him, you suddenly show up your leg in the air, fingers brushing against it.

"Try my legs, they're soft."

Jungkook blinks at you, a huge grin suddenly breaking on his lips.

"I trust you." he says with the same grin.

"No, touch them." you insist, Jungkook playfully rolling his eyes at your perseverance as he lets his hand brush along your leg.

You expectedly stare at him, raising your brow sternly as he snorts.

"Hmm, they're super soft," he feigns astonishment as you click your tongue at him and poke your foot into his legs. "What do you want me to say?" he laughs, "They're always this soft."

"Not always," you argue, "I just shave them every day but usually when I'm on my period I don't." you point out, definitely sharing some of the unnecessary information but you don't really find it embarrassing or anything. Quite the opposite. You're comfortable with Jungkook and he doesn't look phased at all either.

"Why do you do it every day?"

"My hair grows super fast and I don't know when we're about to have sex because it's not like we plan it. So I always want to be prepared." you admit, pursing your lips as Jungkook amusingly watches you the entire time.

"You don't have to do that for me or because of me." Jungkook reminds you softly, but your immediate scoff ruins the soft moment.

"You crazy? You want me to have a bush down there?"

Jungkook raises his hand with his palm up, shrugging. "I don't really mind."

You blink at him, wondering whether it's hot of him to not care about that kind of stuff or... what is the other option anyway?

So you raise your brow at him, as if you don't believe him which makes him chuckle.

"I really don't," he emphasizes, "I don't mind hair. If you want to grow a whole bush down there, feel free."

You gasp, cheeks growing hot as you swat his shoulders. "I don't want that. I prefer to be neat down there." you grumble under your breath, kind of hoping Jungkook mishears it but he doesn't.

One of the things you find hot about Jungkook is his pubic hair. He is a man, so it's not like men are judged for it but it's nice to know Junkgook doesn't care about that stuff. It makes you adore him even more and you can't bring yourself to think about whoever will be able to snatch him.

"Whatever you prefer," he hums, sitting up straight as he grabs you gently by your ankle and lifts your leg up to his lips.

He kisses the soft and moisturized skin, giving it a light but long smooch as you swoon over him, heart already picking its pace from the excitement.

He doesn't stop there though, he continues his way up as he tugs onto your leg, bringing you closer to him and angling your body just at the right angle. When his lips stay pressed on your skin, he looks up to check on you and he finds you giving him a light smirk. He chuckles under his breath, the sound silent but deep as he continues. Once he's near the hem of your nightgown, his fingers play with the lacy hem.

"Cute," he comments, suddenly pressing his face between your thighs as he delivers another kiss to the furthest spot the material allows him.

He hikes up your nightgown, expecting to see another barrier but he's completely shocked and welcomed by a sight of your bare pussy. And he looks up, letting you see his sparkling big eyes while you sheepishly grin in return.

"You little minx," he tells you, diving right in as he presses a kiss to your clit. "Were you planning to get fucked?"

You shouldn't be surprised by his language by now, but his words still light up another spark inside your stomach as you can't help but moan once he presses his tongue flat against your clit.

"No, but I hoped to be." you reply breathlessly and honestly, gasping when Jungkook latches his mouth over your soft and wet mound, moving his lips slowly while you clench around nothing.

He pulls away, hovering over you with his big palms spread on each side of your head, holding himself up. You welcome the closeness and trace your fingers over his forearms as you stare at him.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about something," he says, voice low and raspy as you tilt your head slightly, still slightly dazed at the sight of him shirtless hovering over you.

"Right now?" you ask, emphasizing while you sound impatient which only makes the corner of his lips lift up.

"Mhm," he hums, inching his face closer as his nose suddenly pokes you in your cheek, hot minty breath hovering over you and you're ready to shudder with excitement and impatience.

"A-are you sure right now?" you breathe out, feeling a soft puff leaving his mouth as he chuckles but he doesn't move as he hums against the side of your face.

"I can multitask,"

He sure can because as soon as he says it, he leans himself on his elbow while the other hand sneaks between your thighs and cups you shamelessly, long digits working their way up and down as you gasp once again, holding onto his forearm for a dear life.

"You know how we first talked about our conditions? About me helping you explore more stuff in your sex life while you help me with my part of the deal?"

Eyes prying open at the mention of your sex life, Jungkook keeps moving his fingers up and down your slit while you're trying to focus what he's even saying. You certainly can't multitask while his hands are on you.

But Jungkook makes sure he doesn't go any further, wanting you to be in your full senses.

"You mean the mutual help?" you ask, breathing out a chuckle as you recall him naming it.

He mimics your reaction, a soft chuckle escaping past his lips like a sweet melody.

"Yes."

"What about it?" you ask, voice getting breathless once again as he starts circling your entrance with his middle finger which makes you automatically let out a rushed but quiet curse.

However, he retracts his hand because he wants you to fully pay attention to him and you do, because your frown is immediately decorating your face which makes him fight off a good laugh.

"You told me you wanted to explore more things, right?" You nod. "Our conversation with Jimin and Taehyung made me think... you never actually told me what you like?"

You can't believe he's asking you this at this moment and for some reason, you shift on your spot beneath him as your frown relaxes slightly but it's still present on your face. It's different to actually openly talk about it, which shouldn't be an issue but – why the hell do you suddenly feel shy in front of him?

"You want me to tell you what I want to try?" you ask quietly, meanwhile Jungkook leans on his other elbow as well, his mouth immediately on your jaw as you close your eyes at the sensation those two pillows bring you.

"Mhm," he hums, "I mean I know you enjoy spanking," he says with the same hum as you gulp, feeling the lust bubbling in your stomach while you shift on your spot, desperate to feel some friction.

And just like that, he gives the side of your ass a light spank which makes you bite your lower lip immediately.

He really is multitasking because his lips stay glued to your jaw as he slowly moves it down your neck. Unfortunately, if he knew how hot you look right now with a bottom lip tucked between your teeth, he would surely look.

"I know you like when I wrapped my hand around your neck,"

And then his fingers trace against your skin on your neck, your whole body shuddering as your body naturally spreads your legs. Fuck, can he get his lower body closer?

But he's not done yet, his hand caressing your neck before it's wrapped around it. But it just lays there, he doesn't put any pressure on it and his whole touch electrifies you. He's still gentle with his touch, showing you he isn't going into his full mode. He's just giving you a demonstration, a little sneak-peek you've experienced in the mentioned full mode.

"You like many things," he continues, dragging his hand off your neck moving it down until it disappears once it touches the top of your collarbones. "But you never told me. So, I'm asking you. Is there a secret desire you want to do?"

And then his face is above you, staring down at you with attentive eyes and for a moment, you have a trouble realizing he's talking about such a topic.

"I–I don't know,"

Liar, you tell yourself.

Everything Jungkook has done with you intimately, you've enjoyed very much and you actually let him lead your own desires while he tried to figure out what you like. That's what you kind of decided to do when you first had a similar conversation about it at the very beginning of your sex life together. Not even once you felt the need to tell him what to do or what to try – not that it would be a problem at all.

It certainly wouldn't. You preferred Jungkook taking the lead while you just enjoyed whatever he had prepared for you – the things you haven't tried before such as spanking, choking and different things you only heard about. Until he changed that.

"I like everything you do."

"Come on, there has to be something." Jungkook says with a little smile.

You're being delusional because in no way he knows there actually is something you've always been curious about but it was never the right time.

With everything that happened to him, you can't possibly confess that you wanted to know what a raw sex feels like. What it feels like when someone cums inside you. Do you feel it? Do you not feel it at all while it's happening? You actually realize it's stupid to ask that of someone who you're not dating with. Surely, there are risks. Lower with your birth control but it's never a hundred percent.

So it's stupid to even risk such a thing with someone who you're not dating and having a relationship with. There is still a big 'what if', a rational thought occurring in your mind and that's why you never actually voiced your interest in that.

Sure, a lot of people who aren't dating have unprotected sex. But you're responsible and never trusted anyone enough to do that. You want to slap yourself when you remind yourself of having that thought of what it would feel like with Jungkook.

It obviously has a lot to do with trust and you trust Jungkook with your whole life. But can Jungkook affect the risks a hundred percent? He can't.

"There isn't." you assure him, but it tastes weird on your tongue and the way Jungkook tilts his head while he studies you with his dark and big orbs, you know he definitely can tell you're not hundred percent honest.

"I don't believe you," he says simply, "You can be honest with me, you know that, right?" he asks, leaning closer to you as he places a soft kiss against your neck once again and you sigh desperately.

"I know," you murmur, "It's just not possible."

He lifts his head up, frowning in a confusion as he suddenly sits up and you can see wheels turning in his head. You slowly sit up, hair volumized from your previous position and even though it's disheveled, you kind of look like an angel – Jungkook would think if he wasn't trying to figure out why you're suddenly so secretive.

Do you think he's going to shame you for anything you have on your mind?

"Why?" he asks confusingly and god, he looks so soft while asking you with the most innocent and confused tone.

"I will explain later." you tell him, shifting on your spot as you're reminded of the wet spot between your thighs.

"Okay," he nods, not before he studies your face some more.

Wanting to get to the action, you move first as you lock your lips together. Arms around his neck, you bring him closer to you as Jungkook lets you, putting a pressure to make you lay back. He hovers over you again, spreading your legs as he makes himself fit there. Once again, he's hovering over you like he did minutes ago, not wasting any time as he slowly starts to grind against you.

The moment you feel his hardening cock, your juices wetting his boxers right away, you gasp and start grinding your own hips.

"Fuck, that feels good," you moan when he thrusts into you, something about the single barrier of his piece of clothing making it even hotter.

"Yeah?" Jungkook breathes out, rolling his hips into yours as you feel your skin getting hotter and hotter, making it burn up all while your hands slip under Jungkook's arms and you let your fingers graze his hot skin on his back. "Think you can cum like this?"

You give Jungkook a look and he laughs at your expression.

"Don't worry, I will still fuck you if you want."

He knows you want that. But Jungkook is perfect at spicing things up and you wonder, where the hell will you find someone equal to his perfect skills and stamina? You can't worry about that right now because it just brings unnecessary thoughts you know you will have to face later anyway. But you just want to enjoy this while it lasts.

Whether it's a matter of days, weeks or months.

Until one of you decides that's enough.

With a perfect roll of his hips, you're too in your own world to even think about the embarrassment of his boxers being soaked by your wetness that gushes out of you each time you clench around nothing, wishing it was Jungkook's cock.

Jungkook can tell you're already close, not close enough to come in a few seconds but you're getting there. Your eyes closed, bottom lip tucked between your teeth and a frown that shows pure ecstasy. He swears you'd be cumming within the next minute if it weren't for the ringbell that makes both of you break from the pleasure.

"You're expecting someone?" you ask breathlessly, Jungkook sitting back on his knees as he runs his fingers through his short hair.

He shakes his head, "Are you?"

You raise your brow at him. As if you would invite to his place – even though it's a knowledge Jungkook wouldn't mind you inviting someone.

"Let me check who it is," Jungkook sighs, glancing around for his sweatpants while you stand up to grab an underwear. "What are you doing? I'm not done with you." He glances at you as he's putting on his sweatpants, standing up at the edge of the bed.

"What if it's someone we know?" you point out, "Look what I'm wearing."

Jungkook doesn't protest, not having enough time with you to argue as he walks out of the bedroom to get to the front door.

You slip your panties on, scrunching your nose because of the discomfort your wetness brings you. Looking for your robe, the thin silky one since you already put away your fluffy pink one for the colder months, you put it on once you find it in the closet.

Peeking out of the door, you hear voices and it takes you five seconds to realize the deep voice that gets closer is actually Taehyung. Just as you realize it, Taehyung comes to the view with Jungkook trailing behind him still shirtless which makes you panic slightly. What if Taehyung suspects something?

"Can you believe it?" Taehyung's deep voice booms again, he sounds frustrated and annoyed which makes you walk out of the bedroom with a concerned face.

"What's wrong?" you ask, earning the attention from the two men as Jungkook sighs behind Taehyung.

"I don't know, I'm still trying to figure it out." Jungkook mutters, obviously confused at the sudden presence of Taehyung at this hour but most importantly, his behavior as he barged in.

"Jimin," Taehyung scoffs, "That idiot has a girlfriend!" he exclaims, and you swear you almost choke on your spit.

Whatever you would think he's about to say, this is definitely not one of those things.

Did you hear him right?

Jimin? The man that loves to hook-up and never showed interest to be in a relationship? Years of knowing him and his choice of life-style, very similar to Taehyung's if not the same, you can't help but be shocked by Taehyung's reveal.

Jungkook looks as equally surprised, widening his eyes as he scratches his chest in thought.

"And... that is a problem because?" Jungkook speaks, filling the silence as Taehyung turns around and scoffs.

"The times he bailed on us was because he had a girlfriend this whole time. He kept it a secret!"

You stand there dumbfounded, sharing a look with Jungkook as you're trying to grasp why it is such a problem.

"Are you mad at him because he chose not to tell us?" you ask slowly, still trying to figure it out as Taehyung frowns and thinks it through.

He stays quiet, his shoulders suddenly dropping as he sighs in defeat. "No, I just can't believe he betrayed me like that."

You stifle a laugh, covering your mouth as Taehyung glares at you. "I'm sorry but... what were you? Were you in a secret relationship we don't know about?"

It's Jungkook's turn to stifle a laugh as he leans against the back of the couch with his front.

"Like you are the one to joke about secret relationships," Taehyung mutters and your face drops, giving him a glare.

For a moment you're worried as if he knows about you and Jungkook, but then you remember he actually talks about you and Jungkook hiding your deal the first time.

"Anyway, he just never told me he likes someone. Or he even thinks about dating someone. Plus he was so secretive and ew, I think he really likes her."

You and Jungkook snort.

"I'm sure you will find someone you will like too, Taehyung-ah." you assure him, coming closer to him as you pat his shoulder.

He scoffs, visibly repulsed by the idea. "I don't want to find someone I like!"

"You're not gonna be single for the rest of your life, Tae." you tell him. Not that it would be something wrong if he ended up single.

Not everyone wants to have a relationship and have a lover in that sense. Taehyung is enjoying this lifestyle but you do believe there will come a time when someone walks into his life and he will like that person. Like them more than someone he just wants to have sex with.

"Nah, I'm gonna be a sugar daddy when I'm old or something." He waves you off and you laugh, shaking your head at him.

"You actually have to be loaded to be a sugar daddy." Jungkook reminds him cheekily.

"There is always a time, Jeon Jungkook," Taehyung narrows his eyes at Jungkook. "Anyway, I'm feeling sick from how in love he sounded so I'm staying over, okay? Hope you lovebirds don't mind having another roommate for the night,"

You stutter over your words, Jungkook equally surprised by Taehyung's own invitation to his home but most importantly – you two have unfinished business and a part of it is in Jungkook's boxers right now, which is hidden from Taehyung's eyes. Oh my god, did he lean against the couch to cover his bulge?

"I can take the couch, it's fucking comfy anyway," Taehyung turns around and walks to the couch as he makes himself comfortable there.

"Uh, okay?" Jungkook says unsurely, the two of you sharing a look, fully realizing Taehyung just totally cockblocked you.

"Or I can share a bed with you, I can keep you warm. I love to cuddle with something anyway." Taehyung shamelessly says to you, wiggling his brows teasingly as you widen your eyes, not knowing whether you're lost for words or you want to laugh with him. You can't believe he just compared you to something.

"I, uh, I actually don't have my own bed yet."

Taehyung suddenly stares at you, a grin freezing as he slowly looks between you and Jungkook, your heart picking up its pace as you feel you're about to go full in panic mode for some reason.

"Oh," He lets out, "I mean it's not like you both haven't shared a bed anyway. More than that actually." he says, teasing both of you as you feel the heat rushing back to your cheeks while Jungkook straightens and clears his throat.

"It's almost done. I'm planning to finish it tomorrow," Jungkook informs him, but it's not like Taehyung actually cares because he already starts putting some of the extra cushions to the floor.

You realize he's already wearing pajamas which could be mistaken by a pair of grey sweatpants and a matching shirt.

"I will bring you a blanket and a pillow." Jungkook tells him, watching him as Taehyung looks at him.

"Actually make those two, two pillows. No, three if you've got any."

Jungkook purses his lips, "Sure." You see him rolling his eyes in annoyance at Taehyung who doesn't see it because Jungkook is already walking to his bedroom with his back turned to Taehyung.

Standing there for a moment, Taehyung smacks his lips and closes his eyes as if you weren't there, completely ignoring your presence as you snort and follow Jungkook into his bedroom. You find him pulling an extra blanket and actually finding some extra pillows for Taehyung.

"Can you bring it to him?" he asks you, a huge pile of the blanket and pillows on the floor as you stand there dumbfounded.

"Why?"

"Look at me for fucks sake." Jungkook exclaims, whispering loudly at you as he points towards the visible hard bulge in his boxers. Well, at least it's not in its fully hard state because in that way Taehyung would notice for sure.

"Alright, alright, calm down your balls." you mutter, picking up the things which you struggle with but manage to hold it all in your arms.

Jungkook delivers a slap to your ass, the sound echoing in the room as you both freeze, looking at each other. You glare at him but Jungkook just grins at you.

"Calm down your tits, he probably didn't hear."

Groaning, you wish your hands would be free so you could show him your middle finger.

Bringing it to Taehyung, he thanks you and makes himself comfortable, ordering you to turn off the lights which you do with a grumble. He sends you a flying kiss with his eyes already closed and arms crossed over his chest.

What a turn of events for tonight.

It's twenty minutes after and you both just lay on your backs, hands on your own stomachs as you stare at the dark ceiling. It's more than clear Jungkook is awake too, the last time you glanced at him which was approximately around a minute ago, his eyes were wide open. Thanks to the unclosed blinds, there is at least some kind of moonlight present in the room.

The entire apartment is silent, no sounds heard.

"Do you think he's asleep?" Jungkook mutters, quietly with his deep voice which sounds even deeper as he tries to keep quiet.

"He's a fast sleeper, so... probably." you answer with a whisper.

A rustling sound of the sheets comes from Jungkook's side as he turns to you, leaning on his elbow as you see him staring at you. It's too dark to make out his features but you just know he's looking at you because it's quite obvious.

"You still wanna fuck?" he asks, a shocking jolt of excitement and lust filling your body as the thought of having sex with someone in the other room makes you both anxious and excited.

"What if he hears us?" you ask back, voice still coming out as a whisper but you're intrigued, leaning on your elbows too.

"You're gonna have to be quiet then." Jungkook proposes as if you always make every sound.

"It's not just about me, Jeon," you mutter kind of loudly, silencing your voice. "Sex isn't soundless."

And by that you mean, if Jungkook plans to fuck you there's no way the very familiar sounds of your bodies meeting and your wetness around his length every time he thrusts will come out as soundless.

"There's always a way around it. I told you I'm not done with you."

You cock your brow at him, nibbling in your bottom lip as you press your thighs together under the sheets, knowing you know your answer before you even say it.

"Okay,"

You're risking a lot actually. It's not like you desperately want to keep the relationship you currently have with Jungkook away from Taehyung. And that includes Jimin too. But you're just not ready to tell them and first of all, it's not any of their business. What would you say anyway? Just come up to them and announce to them you and Jungkook are hooking up whenever you want to?

You know Taehyung would never judge you, maybe tease the hell out of you and Jungkook. Jimin might not completely judge you but he surely would voice his concerns of your stupid decision based on your hormones, lust and selfishness.

Either way, maybe you will bring it up once you and Jungkook feel comfortable or just won't tell them. Whatever feels right for you and him.

Jungkook scoots closer to you, his body pressed to your right side as he slips his arm under the sheets and finds his place between your thighs once again. You allow him the space, spreading your legs slightly.

"Fuck, you're still wet," he mutters, "I never found Taehyung annoying as much as he just cockblocked me tonight."

You giggle, especially at the annoyance he portrays toward Taehyung, but it dies down as soon as Jungkook starts rubbing you. A moan threatening to escape past your lips, you quickly bite it back and let Jungkook tease you while you shift on your spot impatiently.

"Jungkook," you whine by a whisper, still reminding yourself to keep it quiet. "I need you."

"I'm right here." he teases you and you groan, squeezing his biceps in return as you glare at him in the darkness.

And then he slips a finger inside you, pumping it slowly as you welcome the penetration but it's still not what you're yearning for the most. As much as you feel excited to be doing this, the thrill of someone else in the bedroom, you wouldn't be able to live it up if Taehyung walked on you having sex. He wouldn't let you live. You're also impatient, nervous you'll break and make any louder sounds if Jungkook is going to play with you.

"Jeon," you scold him, but still embarrassingly grinding against his finger as he adds another that makes you gasp silently, mouth falling open. "I'm serious, please just fuck me."

Jungkook sighs in disappointment, or at least that's what you think it is, but allows his fingers to glide out of you. Your body protests immediately, needing his touch but you're momentarily distracted when Jungkook suddenly brings his fingers to your lips. He brushes them against your bottom lip, your wetness smearing across it making it glisten which could be seen if there was any extra lightning. Before you know it, he's putting a slight pressure on them and you know what he wants, so you fulfil his wishes by welcoming his two long digits into your mouth.

Your own taste is present on your taste buds as you wrap your mouth around his fingers, letting your tongue twirl around them as you suck. Cleaning your own juices off his fingers, he pulls them out slowly with a light pop.

"Good girl," he says with a deep, hushed and raspy voice that makes you want to whine in even more impatience.

Luckily, Jungkook turns his upper body towards his nightstand, not even bothering to close it as he pulls out a condom. Ripping the foil package, you can make out him tossing it onto the floor as he kicks off the sheets off his body and pulls down his boxers. Wishing you could see a clear image of him putting the latex down his hard length, you have to settle for the outlines of his body.

Jungkook is quick and expert at this, rolling on the condom perfectly as you clearly see himself giving a few test pumps before he fully disregards his boxers. You already grasp the sheets and pull them off your body, inviting Jungkook which he welcomes naturally and settles between your spreaded legs, just for him. The sheets cover Jungkook's lower body once he takes it from you, draping it over your and his bodies.

"Ready?" he asks quietly, leaning closer to you as you feel his tip brushing against your thigh.

"Yeah," you breathe out, eagerly anticipating the feeling of him entering you which comes in a second.

He props up with his arm by your head while the other is on his length, guiding himself to your entrance which he finds naturally and quickly. You immediately curse at the sudden stretch of his cockhead pushing past your folds, slowly inching deeper and deeper. Nails digging into Jungkook's back, you try to keep your mouth shut but it's hard when the intense stretch makes your eyes tear up.

"Shhh," Jungkook reminds you, face above you as you notice a faint sight of his brows pinched together.

"I'm trying." you tell him through clenched teeth, Jungkook still pushing his hard and thick length into you.

"You're clenching around me, you're not making it any easier," Jungkook scolds you by a whisper and you scoff, grunting right away when he finally slips entirely inside of you.

You both sigh in content, your body relaxing as Jungkook starts to pull out, just to softly push back in. He builds up the pace of his thrusts, which is also based on your body's reaction to him while he attentively watches you (or tries to in the dark to tell apart your reaction). Your soft moans and the way you try to control them, imprisoning them in your mouth by biting harshly into your lower lip, tells him enough to know you're enjoying this as much as being quiet suddenly feels like the hardest task in the world.

You still have to keep quiet, no matter how many meters and a wall separates you from your sleeping – (hopefully) – friend. Jungkook thrusts are slower than usual but deep and sharp which knocks the breath out of you every time he does it.

It feels so good, it's definitely different compared to the usual rough and wild sex you have. Having to be quiet and careful plays a role in it too, since usually you don't have to be too careful of another person being in the same place as you. It all has its own spark and new feelings to it.

Rolling your hips into Jungkook, your thrusts meet as his pelvis bone presses into yours every time. Bodies on fire, you can't keep your eyes open as you dive into the pure ecstasy of Jungkook's skillful thrusts as you feel your stomach tightening.

It's not hard for Jungkook to tell you're close. Your walls tightening around him would be enough to tell him that. However, Jungkook grows frustrated at the lack of feeling of you. Sure, he feels your walls wrapped around his length but it's so faint he barely feels it, all he feels is a slight pressure that's just not good enough. He still needs to control himself, reminding himself he can't pound into you like there's no tomorrow just because of his desperate need to make himself feel something more.

"Fuck, Kook," you moan, totally oblivious to his inner furstration as he focuses on your moans, face burying into the crook of your neck as he thrusts harder.

His moves are sharper, the sheets covering your bodies barely muting the sounds of your skin meeting. With your hands on his back, nails scratching the skin there, you allow your back to arch as you finally let the knot snap inside you that makes you cum. You cum in a record time, Jungook fucking you through it with the same sharp and deep thrusts.

Growing sensitive and overstimulated, you try to coax Jungkook to cum by rolling your hips into his but that comes in return is Jungkook's frustrated growl which is muffled by your neck and pillow luckily.

"What's wrong?" you ask, knowing Jungkook isn't one to take too long to cum.

Sure, his stamina is great but you can tell there's something wrong.

Jungkook stops, hovering over you as he stays inside you. "Fuck, I think it's the condom."

"What?" you ask in alert, Jungkook quickly shaking his head as if to soothe down your worries.

"I can barely feel you," Jungkook says through clenched teeth, frustrated as he pulls out of you.

Leaning towards his nightstand, you lean on your elbows just to be met with a light of his night lamp being turned on. You squint your eyes at the sudden brightness while Jungkook is looking for the box of condoms, rummaging it with an unnecessary noise but as you're about to scold him, he already finds it and picks it up. Brows furrowed, you watch him read the box as he scoffs.

"Extra thick and extra safe," he reads out loud, scoffing and frustratedly tossing the box of condoms away. "Makes sense."

"You're the one who bought it." you chirp in, annoyingly reminding Jungkook which doesn't make him feel any better and you get a slight glare in return.

"It was the only one they had," he points out, stating matter of factly as you roll your eyes at him. "Fuck, I'm not buying them next time."

"What are we gonna do?" you ask, staring at Jungkook's hard cock that's wrapped in a condom and the sight suddenly makes you giggle, finding his frustration and this situation funny.

It brings only more annoyance and frustration on Jungkook's face as he frustratedly takes the condom off and goes to bin it. He joins you on the bed, hand running through his disheveled hair.

"Fucking extra thick and safe," he mutters and you giggle, trying to keep your voice down. "I'm not buying this brand again."

You sit down, silently giggling to yourself as you scoot closer to him, placing your hands on his tensed shoulders. "Come on, lay down." you urge him, leaning to turn the lights off.

Jungkook obeys, laying back to bed while the bedroom is swallowed in the darkness once again. You hover over him, tossing a leg over his body as you sit back on his thighs. You cringe at the wetness meeting his skin immediately, cursing at yourself for forgetting about your own mess between your thighs.

"Sorry." you whisper, Jungkook's hands coming to your sides.

"No, don't apologize," he tells you as you lean down and place a kiss to his mouth.

You start kissing his neck, your right hand already finding his cock slapped against his stomach as you start pumping it. Jungkook sighs pleasantly, making himself comfortable as he wiggles on his spot, clearly finally getting enough friction and attention. You want to snort but fight against it, continuing to work on his neck with your mouth while you squeeze his shaft, tracing your thumb on top of it.

"Yeah, that feels good," he sighs, voice tight and breathy while his hands make it to your ass.

He pulls your cheeks apart, massaging the flesh as you gasp against his skin. Focus, Y/N, you remind yourself not wanting to feel aroused again and risking the chance of a round two with Taehyung in the next room. But Jungkook makes it hard with his needy and touchy hands.

Suddenly, Jungkook presses onto your ass and you grind against him, a surprised gasp leaving your mouth as your hand leaves his length for a moment.

"Sorry," Jungkook apologizes sheepishly, growing impatient with you just pumping his cock.

You glare at him, gasping when your hips are inched forward and you suddenly feel it. The hard and hot flesh you're currently sitting on, your chest flushed against Jungkook's while you feel your wetness coating Jungkook's cock. Naked, with no barrier.

It feels like your head is about to spin, not believing you feel him like this against you. Quickly bracing yourself, you sit back and get off his length as you choose to sit next to him instead.

Glancing at Jungkook, you find him propped on his elbow, body slightly tensed as you feel his eyes on you even in the darkness. Once you wrap your hand around him, he relaxes and another apology croaks out of his mouth as he lays back and lets you pump his solid length.

"It's fine." you assure him, leaning down to his length as you take him into your mouth.

The rest of the few minutes go with you sucking him off, ignoring the way you clench around nothing when Jungkook lets out even the slightest breathy sound as he's enjoying the warmth of your mouth around him. Your previous plan of not wanting to get all hot and needy failed, Jungkook not helping you at all when his arm stretches to your ass and starts to rub your pussy while you try to make him cum.

You whine, torn between slapping his hand away or letting him rub you. It feels too good to tell him to stop and with you being focused (trying to be) on sucking him off, you just let him feel your wetness. It's in the middle of you drooling all over his cock, both mouth and hand busy, when Jungkook finally cums into your mouth.

You swallow the liquid, not letting it linger in your mouth any longer than it's necessary, the panic of Taehuyng being awake is the main priority at the moment, now that all of your and Jungkook's needs have been dealt with.

As soon as you don't feel his hand on you, you persuade yourself it's for the better because apparently, the condoms aren't good and you don't want to risk doing anything more.

"What are you doing?" you whisper, glancing at Jungkook when you grab your robe and quickly tie it around your frame, seeing him pulling some random sweatpants on.

"I gotta clean up myself." he shrugs as you sigh.

"Wait here, I'm going first."

"What, why?" he whines.

"Because Taehyung might be awake, you idiot." you scold him, pointing out the obvious as Jungkook huffs.

"He is not, or else he would barge in here. But fine, but be quick I can feel your cum drying on my thighs."

He slouches back on the bed, ushering you to move as you roll your eyes.

Luckily, Taehyung is still asleep and not even a sound comes out from the living room as you walk by to the bathroom. You're as fast as possible, finding Jungkook slowly falling asleep in the same position you left him when you come back. You kick him in the shin to wake him up, he stands up with a grumble.

"Suddenly not minding to fall asleep with my dried cum on you?" you sarcastically ask, teasing him a little as you see him showing you his middle finger. You don't see it clearly, just the outline of it is enough to make you bite back a laugh.

"Fuck off," he grumbles under his breath, "You wanted to clean first."

And he is out of the door before you can think of a comeback, sighing because it has no point to do that in the middle of the night.

Hating to admit it, you still wait for Jungkook to come back until you fully allow yourself to fall asleep but in your defense, he doesn't take too long and joins you in a few minutes before your eyes can even flutter shut.

Your last night while sharing a bed with Jungkook is peaceful, just like the previous ones always had been. And it certainly has nothing to do with Jungkook's warm and soft breath hitting the back of your neck.

The morning comes too quickly in your opinion. Maybe it's the sunlight peeking through unclosed blinds you forgot to close last night that makes you painfully squint your barely open eyes. Looking at the clock, it's not as early as you expect it to be and the whole apartment seems to be swallowed in silence, which makes you question where everyone is.

Suddenly being reminded of Taehyung's presence, it's weird that it's still quiet at ten o'clock.

Still wearing your nightgown, it's better to change before Taehyung sees your extremely exposed skin – not that he would care – but you're not in the mood for any early jokes and teasing on your account which would surely involve Jungkook as well.

Changing to your usual morning lazy outfit – a pair of beige sweatpants and a large white shirt – you make it into the bathroom to take care of your appearance and morning hygiene. It doesn't take you long, just enough to open the door and smell the delicious smell of bacon and eggs.

On your way following the smell, you notice Taehyung still cuddled to the pillow and blanket, his butt peeking off the couch as you chuckle but silently make it to the kitchen.

You're not surprised to see Jungkook completely awake, dressed in sport shorts and an oversized black shirt, looking fresh and wide awake as if he has been up for hours now.

"Don't you ever sleep?" you mumble behind him, joining him in the kitchen as he glances over his shoulder with a corner of his lips tilted upwards.

"Do you ever wake up before nine?" he asks in return, cackling when you smack his back when you walk past him.

"Yeah, if i have to," you say dumbfounded, earning another chuckle at the obviousness in your tone. "This smells good. You need help with anything?" you ask, looking around to see if there is anything you could do but you already find everything prepared.

Plates, glasses, sliced bread and a bowl of fruit... Jungkook has already taken care of everything.

"No, just sit down your pretty ass. Breakfast will be served soon,"

You raise your brow at him, earning another grin from him as he turns off the stove, serving the fried bacon on a plate. But you stand there, ignoring the way Jungkook cocks his brow at you and smirks when you haven't listened to him.

Once Jungkook puts away the pan, letting it cool down he turns to you, giving you a look which you return with a cheeky smile, raising your brow at him.

"You never listen, do you?" he chuckles.

"Of course not, you should know that by now Jeon." you tease him, wetting your lips with the tip of your tongue as he playfully rolls his eyes at you.

"You're provoking me." he states matter-of-factly, staring into your eyes as you can't help but smirk. He knows.

"Am I?" you cock your head to the side, Jungkook inching closer as you slowly take a step back, playfully smirking at him.

"Was last night not enough for you?"

And the profound confidence and cockiness makes you eye him from head to toe, staring back at his eyes through your eyelashes before you say; "Wasn't it enough for you?"

Jungkook growls, bumping into you as your bodies clash together as his hand makes it to your ass, delivering a slap to it as you laugh, hands on his chest while his both hands squeezes your asscheeks.

"What. The. Fuck."

It's like you've been electrified, both jumped away from each other as you stare at freshly awoken Taehyung with his eyes wide despite the evident sleepiness in them. His hair is disheveled, face puffy as he stares dumbfoundedly at the two of you.

You're screwed. One part of you tries to tell you that it's not a big deal but looking at Taehyung, you feel like your heart is in your throat and you're about to get scolded for some reason.

You're both so stupid. Getting touchy when he could've walked in any time. Which happened. You both were just stupid to let yourself get carried away.

"Taehyung, you are awake?" you manage to ask as if what he saw was nothing, voice too high and light which makes him stare at you even more, blinking slowly.

"Clearly I wasn't supposed to be!" he exclaims, throwing his arms suddenly as he eyes you both suspiciously but you know he knows. He's not stupid to let this go and think of this as nothing happened.

"Tae, this doesn't have to be a drama, okay?" Jungkook speaks up softly, watching his older friend starting to both catch a breath as he lets out a humorous laugh.

"You just were all over Y/N's ass!" he points at Jungkook as if he accused him of something.

Jungkook shrugs, there's no point in denying it when he clearly saw it.

"Hold the fuck on," Taehyung pinches the bridge of his nose, breathing in and out before he walks to the dining table and seats himself.

He stares at you with a firm gaze, the situation kind of wants to make you laugh but you hold yourself back. Somehow, Jungkook's presence and his obvious pose makes you more comfortable because you know he will take care of this.

"You guys are dating too?"

"No." you and Jungkook answer at the same time, both of you looking at each other without turning your heads, giving yourselves a side look.

"No, it's not that." Jungkook adds, cringing at himself since he says it awkwardly and slowly.

"Phew, thank fuck," Taehyung breathes out a sigh of relief, "I mean, don't get me wrong... it's just the situation with Jimin, imagine if y'all dated someone. I would be a fucking outcast!" he exclaims dramatically as you roll your eyes at him and join him at the table, not before taking the bacon with you.

"Calm down, weirdo. We are not dating," you assure him, "With your lifestyle, you're gonna be the only single one at some point."

"Oh, fuck off." Taehyung grumbles and mockingly grimaces at you.

"Oh, fuck off." you mumble back childishly, doing the same grimace.

Sighing, you reach for the glass of orange juice Jungkook has so kindly poured everyone before you even came here.

"So you just casually let your friends slap your ass?" Taehyung suddenly asks, causing you to almost choke but luckily, you haven't taken a sip yet.

You glare at him, Jungkook clearing his throat as a silence follows.

"What? Here I was talking about face slapping the other day and you're–"

"Okay, that's enough." Jungkook butts in, placing a bottle of ketchup on the table.

"I'm just fucking confused right now, I feel like I'm hangover," Taehyung says, clutching the side of his head. "So what is this then? Don't tell me you have another fake dating deal going on. Who are you trying to get back? Don't tell me it's that adolescent douche."

You snort, shaking your head. "Relax, we are not trying to get anyone back."

"We are just hooking up."

"Jungkook!"

"What?" he exclaims back, "He already saw us. What's the point of not going straight to the point?"

"Wait, wait, wait," Taehyung says quickly, digging into the scrambled eggs as he puts it into his mouth, munching on it. "You guys are hooking up?"

"That's what I just said, didn't I?" Jungkook sighs, sitting on the opposite side of you and Taehyung.

"You guys are fucking crazy," Taehyung mutters, "But hey, good for you. At least you have sex again." he tells you, causing Jungkook to hold back a laughter as you nudge your shoulder into Taehyung's.

"Shut up," you grumble, "What do you even know about my sex life?"

"Practically nothing, I thought it was non-existent." Taehyung mutters causing you to glare at him.

"Not everyone fucks everyone with a pair of tits."

"Hey, it's not everyone. Just everyone who's willing to share that pair of tits with me."

All three of you burst into laughter at that, a silence following once you calm down as Taehyung keeps eyeing you while he sips on his juice.

"What is it, Taehyung?" you ask finally, not standing the prying eyes on you for more than a second.

"Nothing, nothing," Taehyung whistles but then he breaks, "Oh my god, I can't believe you two are actually fucking! I knew you just wouldn't go back to being friends!"

"We are friends," you argue immediately, meanwhile Jungkook is stuffing his face with food as if this conversation doesn't involve him. Honestly, it just makes you mentally shake your head at him for not saying anything further, leaving you to handle annoying and teasing Taehyung by yourself. "We went back to just being friends!" you exclaim as you see Taehyung's raised brow, obviously not believing you.

Your frustration rises as Taehyung purses his lips.

"No, really! It just happened... Anyway, we are both single so..." you mumble, not even knowing how to get out of this conversation but with Taehyung, it's impossible.

"Yeah, for how long..." Taehyung mutters quietly under his breath but gives you a teasing grin once your eyes meet. "I'm happy for you, though. I really am."

Jungkook snorts, leaning against the stool as he chews the food while you give Taehyung a weird look.

"Happy for us?" you ask dumbfounded as Taehyung nods.

"Yeah," he nods, shrugging. "Happy you have sex, enjoying your youthful life... with Jungkook out of all people."

"Okay, what is that supposed to mean?" you exclaim, Taehyung almost choking on his food as he bursts into another fit of laughter.

"Okay, I think that's enough," Jungkook says, "Please, Tae. Let us live, okay?"

"Fine, fine, fine." Taehyung waves him off, keeping his mouth shut.

Finally you're about to eat in a peaceful quiet until another topic comes up and you couldn't be happier.

Still, Taehyung keeps amusingly smirking at his plate but you choose to ignore it. Both of you do.

#jungkook x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #bts smut #jungkook fanfic #personasintro

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