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avnkin · 4 years

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Shake On It [ 2 ]

Author’s note: I was really in my harry feels whilst writing this so sorry about that lmao also I proofread this so many times and it still SUCKS ASS. I posted this entire thing earlier from my phone but tumblr deleted everything except the title so yeah I’m sorry if there aren’t italics and bolds on some of the words where they should be but i’m just to lazy to go through the entire thing and find them all again, maybe i’ll do it later but who knows. I do not own harry potter or the storyline/characters they are the intellectual property of J.K Rowling. (not my gif)

Word Count: 5.9k

Summary: There’s little to nothing Draco values more than his reputation so when he sees it slipping, he’ll do anything in his power to catch it.

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader / Platonic!Harry Potter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, foul language, asshole!draco and daddy issues lol

This is an AU so all the information doesn’t exactly line up with the HP storyline for example Voldemort hasn’t returned but still exists so little from Harry’s history changes but Dumbledore’s still alive.

After yours and Draco’s interaction the other night you’d strongly begun reconsidering his offer to accompany him to the ball, maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought, I mean what’s the worst that could happen? So many things your anxiety was quick to answer, the most important one being that Harry and Ron would probably never speak to you again.

“Y/N are you even listening to me?” Hermione’s voice snapped you out of your trance, her blurry hand waving in front of your face, you quickly began blinking in an attempt to bring your surroundings back into focus, “sorry” you then muttered sending her an apologetic smile before gesturing for her to continue with whatever she’d been talking about.

“As I was saying, I need a cute date for the ball, who do you think will annoy Ron the most?” you were about to answer when a voice from behind you beat you to it.

“Annoy who the most?”

You rolled your eyes having a pretty clear idea of who it was, you reluctantly turned around your eyes immediately locking onto Draco’s who stood there in all his glory a smug smile plastered onto his lips as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Excuse me who invited you to this conversation?” you retorted before turning back to Hermione who had an amused grin on her face causing you to lightly kick her from underneath the table, you didn’t want Draco putting two and two together and realizing you’d talked about him with Hermione.

“I was just wondering if you’d changed your mind about going with me to the ball” Draco cajoled causing your eyes to widen realizing you still hadn’t told Hermione about the fact he’d asked you in the first place.

You sent Hermione an an ‘i’ll tell you later’ look before twisting your body to face Draco’s who now had his hands placed in his robe pockets, his self assurance radiating off of him despite the fact you’d rejected him only days before, the boy had clearly never been told ‘no’ his entire life.

“No and I won’t be, so run along” you stated before making a shooing gesture with your hand which only seemed to have the opposite effect you’d intended it too, since he began to take a few steps forward, licking his lips as he looked you up and down.

“Yes you will” he stated matter of factly and it took all self control you had not to smack him right across the face, who did he think he was?

“Is it really that hard to get it into that tiny little brain of yours that there are girls alive who don’t like you” you practically growled missing how Hermione’s attention had drifted away from the scene unfolding before her and to the two figures who had begun making their way towards you.

“Yes because there aren’t an-”

“Malfoy find someone else to bother can’t you see she’s not interested” Harry cut him off as him and Ron now fully came into view, the two of them standing tall behind Draco whose attention had now shifted from you to them.

“Oh look who it is, dumb and dumber” chortles could be heard from the Slytherin table at Draco’s words causing you to roll your eyes, it was pathetic how they would lick up every single thing he did.

“Offers still there Y/L/N” Draco turned to you before he slowly started to ascend back towards the Slytherin table where he was greeted with numerous pats on the back as he squeezed himself in between Crabbe and Goyle.

“What a slimy git” Ron huffed as he took the seat next to yours, immediately beginning to scoop all the food in view onto his plate.

“What did he want anyways?” Harry asked resting his elbows on the wooden house table as he sat down opposite you.

“He asked if I wanted to go to the ball with him” you feigned disgust as you shook your head, hoping he would drop the subject, you’d never been a good liar and if anyone could see through you it would surely be your best friend.

“Just tell him you’re going with me if he asks again, then he’ll leave you alone” Harry suggested, Ron nodding along with him as he stuffed a chicken wing into his mouth.

“Yeah- yeah ‘course thank you Harry” you scratched the back of your head cringing at the obvious hint of disappointment lingering in your words which thankfully no one but Hermione seemed to notice since she reached her hand out across the table and laid it gently atop of yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

You gave her a small smile before your eyes began dancing around the Great Hall somehow coming to a halt on Draco’s figure, he had his chin resting in the palm of his hand as he engaged in conversation with Blaise.

No one could say that Draco Malfoy wasn’t handsome, rude and a prat? Sure, but unattractive no. He was the only boy you’d ever seen who was able to pull of such a hair color and as your eyes travelled along his sharp jawline up to his chiseled cheekbones you felt the uncontrollable feeling of heat rush up to your face as his eyes met yours.

He sent you a wink before turning back around, you mirroring his actions the feeling of butterflies swarming your stomach slowly melting away as you pushed any remaining thoughts of him aside.

The ball was only a few days from now and you and Hermione had decided to take a trip down to Hogsmeade in an attempt to shop for dresses, not wanting to repeat what had happened last year when you both had made the mistake of trusting your parents with your attires, the dresses they’d choosen had arrived the same night as the ball and you had been forced to show up in matching bright pink gowns since it had been too late to go and buy new ones. You’d been the laughing stocks off the school for a couple months after that, never again.

You cringed at the memory that would surely be edged into your mind forever but as you pushed open the wooden door that led into Gladrags Wizardwear you found yourself entranced with all the beautiful dresses littered around the shop.

“Have you decided who you’re gonna go to the ball with?” Hermione hummed as her fingers trailed over a blue gown that hung along with hundreds of others at the front of the store.

“Yeah I think I’m just gonna go with Harry, I don’t want to risk my friendship with either him or Ron by going with Draco” you sighed not feeling the need to hide your disappointment in front of her.

“I get that but if you really do like Malfoy you should just ease Harry and Ron into the idea of you two being together” Hermione shrugged in response before removing the dress she’d been looking at from its hanger and placing it into her arms as you continued browsing.

“How am I supposed to do that you know how much they hate him” you sighed as you lightly dragged your hand over the multiple fabrics that hung on the clothing rag next to you.

“You could dance with him at the ball” Hermione suggested, you nodded silently in agreement before coming to an abrupt halt as a certain dress caught your eye. It was champagne colored and made out of silk with a thigh high split running down the side of it, not the type of dress you’d usually go for but nevertheless you carefully placed it into your arms deciding their was no harm in seeing how it looked on you.

“Who are you going with?” you changed the subject not feeling like talking about Draco anymore, it was really killing your mood.

“Hero Finnigan asked me” your eyes widened at Hermione’s words. Hero Finnigan was in the year above you and was quite the heartthrob around school, he’d been known for having a new girl underneath his arm every week and it seemed that this time around it was going to be Hermione, much to your surprise.

“Please tell me you said yes, if anyone’s going to make Ron jealous it’s definitely him” you assured her, looping your arm with hers as you continued skimming through the store.

“Of course I said yes, I’m not that daft” she shook her head before continuing, “I don’t know though I-I guess I was just hoping that in the end Ron would ask me, but apparently he’s going with Lavender” her nose scrunched up at the mere mention of her name as she let out a heavy sigh.

Your heart ached for your best friend as you put an arm around her shoulder giving her a tight side hug, a subtle way of letting her know you were there for her no matter what.

“Enough about that let’s go try on our dresses and we can tell each other what we think” Hermione was obviously trying to distract herself but you didn’t feel like pressing the subject any further so you only nodded in agreement as you started searching for the changing rooms, it was a surprisingly big shop compared to how small it had appeared from the outside.

Once you’d finally found them at the far end of the shop you both entered separate rooms, simultaneously pulling the curtains shut shielding you from the watchful eyes of the other customers, although there weren’t that many.

You took one last look at the dress letting your fingers wander down the silky fabric before carefully removing it from its hanger and slipping your legs in between the opening.

Once you got it on, you weren’t able to reach the zipper on the back, no matter how hard you tried so you stealthily peeked your head out behind the curtain and seeing no one you began to make your way towards Hermione’s changing room hoping she could be of some assistance.

“Need some help with that?” a voice stopped you dead in your tracks, swiftly turning to see Draco standing there, a mischievous smirk resting on his lips as he took a step closer to you.

“Are you stalking me or something?” you shook your head, furrowing your brows once you noticed how his eyes weren’t meeting yours, instead they were trailing up and down your body, devouring every inch of you.

“Eyes up here Malfoy” you teased which made him finally look up at you, but instead of replying with a snide comment of his own he threw the suit he’d been holding onto a clothing rag nearby and slowly began to stride towards you.

You weren’t able to get a word out as he tenderly placed his ring clad fingers on top of your bare shoulders scanning your face for approval witch you granted by carefully nodding your head taking in a deep breath as you felt him begin to slowly turn you around.

You shivered once the cold metal wrapped around his fingers began to run down your arms, his fingertips then gently dancing down the small of your back in a painfully teasing manner.

You couldn’t help but let out a breathy sigh as he took a step closer to you his lips ghosting over your ear as he began to pull the zipper upwards causing you to almost involuntarily lean into him. As soon as you did his scent consumed you, he smelled of expensive cologne and spearmint, even better than you could have ever imagined.

He stopped as the zip reached the bottom strands of your hair, he thought for a moment before he carefully wrapped his hand around your h/c locks, twisting them gently around his fingers before letting them fall over the side of your shoulder, the tips of his fingers ever so slightly running across the side of your neck as he moved them back down to where he’d stopped.

You gently tilted your head, closing your eyes in content once you felt his hot breath fan over your neck, you leaned your head back at the sensation resting it atop of Draco’s shoulder, shivering once you felt his lips ghost over the sweet spot just behind your ear, one of his arms finding your waist as the other continued to work its way up your back.

Once you heard the faint sound of the zipper click as it reached its closing you slowly opened your eyes feeling him take an impossible step closer to you, your behind now pressed into his front as he trailed his hands down to your hips.

“You clean up quite nice Y/L/N” he breathed out as he began running his hands up to your stomach before finally reaching your waist where they abruptly stopped so that he could turn you back around, you let out a gasp at the sudden forced movement your hands clinging onto his shoulders to prevent you from falling.

You opened your mouth but no words came out as you were consumed by the feeling of his fingers digging into your sides, his lips mere centimeters from yours you almost unknowingly began to lean in.

He mirrored your movements but just before your lips could meet someone cleared their throat from behind you causing you to jump away from him, frowning at the sudden loss of contact.

Once your eyes met Hermione’s you quickly cleared your throat acting as if nothing had (almost) happened, she raised an eyebrow obviously confused at the scene unfolding before her.

You turned back towards Draco who was looking at you almost expectantly, “I’m going with Harry to the ball” you suddenly felt the need to tell him, hoping he wouldn’t get the wrong idea from the little moment you had just shared.

“Potter seriously?” Draco scoffed in return before making his way around you and Hermione, your eyes following his figure and as soon as he was completely out of sight you finally felt like you could breath again, staggering backwards into Hermione who quickly put her arms up to catch you.

“Oh I’m in trouble”

You’d decided to buy the dress you’d tried on in the store, even though every time you put it on you couldn’t shake away the feeling of Draco being pressed against you as his lips hovered dangerously close to your neck.... You shook your head in hopes that it would toss the memory out of your mind, you couldn’t be thinking about Draco right now, not when Harry was standing just outside the Gryffindor common room patiently waiting for you to get ready.

“Can you zip me up?” you turned your back to Hermione who quickly rushed to your side swiftly beginning to pull the zipper on the back of your dress upwards. As you closed your eyes you got momentary flashes off Draco’s ring clad fingers wrapped around your body and you tried with all your might to shake the tingling feeling you got away, but nothing seemed to be working.

“Okay do a little spin for me” you let out a laugh at Hermione’s words but nevertheless you began spinning around your dorm playfully, letting your hair fall across your shoulders as Hermione threw her head back in laughter.

“You look incredible” she complemented as you engulfed each other in tight hugs mentally preparing yourselves for the night ahead.

“Oh please, I’m nothing compared to you” you stated linking your arms together before the two of you began to make your way to your awaiting dates.

Once the door to the Gryffindor common room opened the first thing you saw was Harry engaged in conversation with Hero, you could tell by his uncomfortable shuffling that the exchange had been awkward causing you to let out a small giggle which captured the attention of the two boys.

Harry’s mouth hung open as he let his eyes wander all over you, from the thigh-high front split on the front of your dress to your flawless makeup and perfectly styled hair, he was speechless, if you two weren’t best friends he’d probably be tripping over his own two feet by now.

“Well this is certainly an upgrade from last year” Harry let out a teasing laugh as he bowed down to take your hand in his.

“Oh shut up” you feigned annoyance as you stood beside him, feeling goosebumps run up your arms as his hand came to rest on your lower back, leading the two of you towards the Great Hall.

“In all seriousness Y/N, you look amazing” Harry gushed as he pulled you into his side. An uncontrollable blush creeping onto your cheeks at his words as you let your head fall on his shoulder.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Potter” you teased, the two of you letting out simultaneous fits of laughter as you followed closely behind Hero and Hermione.

After a moment of silence Harry suddenly spoke out, “Ron was going to ask her you know” the two of you shared knowing glances at his words, it was so painfully obvious that your other two best friends were head over heels in love with each other but neither of them dared to make the first move, either to scared of being rejected or ruining their many years worth of friendship.

“Figures” you shrugged a comfortable silence overtaking you as you walked over to one of the many rows of couples stood in front of the entrance leading into the Great Hall.

As the doors begun to open you excitedly smiled up at Harry but before you were able to move forward another couple had harshly pushed their way in front of you and you were immediately able to identify the mob of platinum blond hair.

“Excuse me” you rolled your eyes causing the two of them to turn their heads towards you, you couldn’t hold in your scoff once you saw who he’d decided to bring, Pansy Parkinson of all the people in this bloody school.

“Don’t start anything Malfoy” Harry warned before either of them were able to get a word out, it looked like Pansy was going to throw a snide comment your way but stopped as soon as her eyes met Draco’s, she let out a huff before reluctantly turning back around.

“You look dashing” Draco complimented, you could feel Harry tense up beside you and you snaked an arm around his waist in an attempt to calm him down, the last thing you wanted was to cause a scene.

“Shouldn’t you be telling that to your date?” you retorted gesturing towards Pansy who seemed to be strangely quiet, usually she couldn’t keep her mouth shut no matter the circumstance, but you weren’t complaining.

Draco didn’t respond instead he just shrugged his shoulders before turning back around his arm slipping down towards Pansy’s lower back, you felt the inkling feeling of jealousy begin to form inside you but you forced yourself to push it away giving Harry’s bicep a reassuring squeeze knowing it had taken all his might not to hex Draco then and there.

As soon as Draco and Pansy had left you two be you quickly pulled Harry along with you into the hall so you wouldn’t get trampled by the entourage of students crowded behind you who were also squeezing their way through the double doors.

You intertwined your fingers with Harry’s as you took in your surroundings. It looked even better than last year, snow was falling from the starry black ceiling stopping just a few feet above you, mistletoe’s and every traditional Christmas decoration you could think of were littered all across the hall and instead of the usual house tables there were hundreds of smaller silver ones, each having it’s own floating candle above them.

Once you spotted a decent place to sit you tugged onto Harry’s arm gesturing for him to follow you towards the table your eyes were set on, somehow along the way you managed to spot Hermione and you threw your arm up gesturing for her hand Hero to come sit with you and Harry.

It wasn’t long until the chair beside you was being pulled from underneath the table and Hermione placed her self atop of it along with Hero, you happily greeted both of them but all joy inside you seemed to fade away once you noticed Ron and Lavender heading your way.

Oh please no

Ron placed a chaste kiss on Lavender’s cheek as he pointed towards your table.

Don’t sit here

Lavender eagerly began to nod following behind Ron as they inched closer and closer.

Anywhere but here

Despite your silent praying Ron was now pulling a chair out for Lavender before taking a seat himself and as soon as he did an awkward tension filled the air. You grabbed Hermione’s hand from underneath the table giving it a reassuring squeeze noticing how she’d tensed up once Lavender had bitterly greeted her.

“Whose this then?” Ron could be heard from the other end of the table, you rolled your eyes at his tone, how did Hermione not realize he was jealous hell even Hero seemed to notice it as his eyes uncomfortably shifted between Hermione’s angered expression and Ron’s annoyed one.

“Hero Finnigan, and you?” he reached his hand out over the table and for a split moment your eyes had widened thinking Ron was actually going to sit there and ignore him but thankfully the ginger haired boy reluctantly reached over the table and connected his hand with Hero’s.

“Ron, Ron Weasely”

“Weasely, eh? could have guessed, I’m good friends with your brothers” Hero attempted to make conversation but Ron didn’t seem all to keen on it only muttering a “whatever” underneath his breath causing you to kick him from underneath the table, you gave him a warning glance to which he replied by throwing a small ‘piss off’ in your direction.

Before you could begin to scold him for his rude behaviour Dumbledore’s voice tore throughout the Great Hall preventing you from doing so although you had a feeling that if it hadn’t had been him it probably would have been Harry.

“Welcome students to our annual Jingle Ball, may I say you all look wonderful tonight” Dumbledore gingerly smiled, his wand lightly pressed against the side of his neck as he gestured towards the numerous students all dressed in their finest attires.

“We’ll start the evening with a three course meal prepared by our lovely house elves” claps begun to sound around the Great Hall which you quickly joined in on, smiling brightly once you noticed the numerous elves clumsily standing up from their seats and waving at the students.

“Once you’ve finished eating a band will be preforming for us and I hope that you and your dates will be joining me and McGonagall on the dance floor” laughter sounded around the hall at the last part of his sentence but instead of joining in like you usually would you found yourself draining out all noise as your eyes met Draco’s.

He’d already been looking your way and you couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your lips as his icy grey eyes burned through yours, you felt like there was some type of force drawing you to him and you couldn’t do anything about it, even though your head was screaming at you that shouldn’t be developing feelings for someone as arrogant and cruel as Draco Malfoy your heart seemed to be having trouble following.

Once everyone had finished eating you were eager to get away from your table, somehow Hero and Ron had begun a full blown argument which you and Hermione had to quickly shut down by asking Lavender to take Ron somewhere else until he’d calm down, that boy could not control his temper if his life depended on it.

You’d managed to cheer Hermione up after the entire ordeal telling her that she should focus on herself for once and have fun, thankfully she’d listened and you couldn’t help the giddy expression overtaking your facial features as you watched her and Hero sway together on the dance floor.

“Care to dance M’ lady” Harry merrily bowed down in front of you reaching his hand out towards yours, you placed a hand on your chest in feigned surprise before gently laying your hand in Harry’s palm.

“Why, I would be delighted to” you attempted a posh accent unable to contain the giggle that fell past your lips as you let Harry lead you to the dance floor.

As soon as his arm had wrapped around your waist and the other intertwined with your hand another slow song began playing, most of the students were still digesting their food so their weren’t many on the dance floor, it was only you and Harry, Hero and Hermione and about six other couples.

You leaned your head on Harry’s chest letting him slowly sway you to the soothing melody of the song. “You know I love you right?” Harry mumbled as he placed a kiss on top of your head.

“I love you too, silly” you brightly smiled up at him, you both knew there weren’t harbored feelings for the other hidden behind those three words so you had no trouble voicing it to each other.

You tightly wrapped your arms around his waist continuing to slowly move around the dance floor. You knew how hard his life had been leading up to this point, losing his family, Sirius, and then Cedric he always had the inkling fear that one day he’d lose you or Ron or Hermione so you wanted to make sure he knew you weren’t going anywhere.

Sometimes silence speaks louder than words and you knew you were saying everything you needed just by being there with him, it felt like hours that you’d stayed that way wrapped in each others arms but soon students begun to make their way to the dance floor so you and Harry decided to take a short break, heading hand in hand back towards your table.

Unbeknownst to you whilst you and Harry had been in your own world gently dancing with each other for all eyes to see, Draco had been enduring pure torture over at his table.

“I can’t believe she choose Potter over you”

“That’s gotta sting”

“How’s it feel being the second choice”

“Hope you’re ready to do my homework for the rest of the year”

Was all he had heard for the last hour as he’d watched you and Harry dance with one another. No matter the threats he threw their way and menacing looks they just wouldn’t stop, he felt as if his power of being crowned the Slytherin prince was slipping away from him, since in his world losing to someone like Harry Potter was as low as you could get.

Then and there Draco decided he wasn’t going to endure it anymore he was making his move tonight no matter the circumstance.

“You know Ginny’s been eyeing you all night” you wiggled your eyebrows nudging Harry’s shoulder who awkwardly began shifting in his seat as he mumbled a ‘really’ in response to which you nodded.

“Go ask her too dance!” you stood up so you could force him out of his seat along with you, you subtly pointed towards Ginny’s direction who had swiftly looked away as soon as her eyes had met Harry’s.

“But what about you?” Harry frowned realizing you didn’t have anyone to spend time with if he’d leave since both Hermione and Ron seemed to be preoccupied with their dates.

“Don’t worry about me I’ll be fine! now go” you ushered him forward giving him a reassuring thumbs up as he began to walk towards her.

“You’re quite the matchmaker aren’t you?” Hermione had suddenly walked up behind you and you both watched in amusement as Harry almost fell over twice before he was able to reach Ginny who had happily agreed to dance with him.

“Where’s Hero?” you asked as you turned to face Hermione eyes wandering around the hall in an attempt to spot her date, “oh he’s just gone to get us some drinks, you’re welcome to join us if you’d like” Hermione offered but you shook your head.

“No its okay honestly I’m fine” you assured her, you did not want to spend the evening third wheeling your best friend and her date.

Hermione began opening her mouth surely to convince you to join them but stopped once her eyes landed on something behind you or rather someone behind you.

“Care to dance?”

You swiftly turned around to see Draco with his hand reaching out towards you, you tried your best to contain the smile that was so desperately gnawing at the sides of your mouth as you turned back to Hermione who was giving you knowing smile.

“Find me if you need anything alright?” you eagerly nodded at her words only turning back to Draco once Hermione had fully vanished into the crowd.

“One dance, that’s it” you attempted to sound serious but it came off in a more teasing manner as you let your hand fall into Draco’s.

“Agreed”

As soon as you’d reached the middle of the dance floor, Draco’s arm had snaked around your waist pulling you into him whilst the other intertwined your fingers. You let out a giggle as he began twirling you around, gracefully catching you back in his arms as both his hands moved to rest on your lower back.

“You’re quite the dancer” you complimented, without a doubt boosting Draco’s already large ego, “I know” he had replied with a knowing smirk, twirling you around one last time before pulling you flush up against him your noses bumping together since you’d already been looking up at him. You’d held the eye contact for a minute as you brightly smiled at each other before you gently let your chin rest on his shoulder as he slowly began swaying you from side to side.

As your eyes began dancing over the students you didn’t think anything could burst your happy bubble until your eyes found Harry’s who had a look of disappointment edged onto his features as he pulled away from Ginny who had frowned at his sudden dismissal as she watched him begin to make his way out of the Great Hall.

You cleared your throat as you uncomfortably began shuffling away from Draco who gave you a look of confusion as he watched you pull your hand out of his and back away from him.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry I can’t do this” you muttered before hurriedly turning around and squeezing your way through the crowd of students all huddled together on the dance floor, most of them giving you annoyed glances as you pushed them out of the way but you didn’t care all you wanted to do was find Harry. You couldn’t imagine how he’d felt once he saw you his best friend, dancing with someone who’d made his life a living hell ever since the first year.

Once you’d exited the Great Hall you frantically began looking around the empty corridors in an attempt to find Harry who’d stormed out here only moments ago.

“Y/N!” you heard Draco call from behind you but you ignored him, picking up your pace once you heard his nearing footsteps echoing around the empty hallways.

“Y/N please wait” you felt him grab ahold of your wrist swiftly turning you back to face him, his grip only tightening as you began attempting to pull your hand away.

“No! You can’t treat my friends like shit and then expect me to give in on whatever the hell you’re trying to do” you finally managed to rip your hand out of his grasp as you turned back around but he quickly ran in front of you placing his hands on your shoulders to keep you in place.

“Listen I’m sorry alright, bloody hell I just- I can’t stop thinking about you I don’t know how to explain it but I think I might-” he cut himself off hesitating to speak his next words unsure of how you’d react since he didn’t want to return to his friends with yet another failed attempt.

“You think you might what?” you crossed your arms over your chest glaring up at him as you watched his mouth open and close again.

“Fancy you” he finally let out, your eyes widening as you let your hands fall down to your hips. You took a few steps back until you couldn’t move any further the tall walls of the castle preventing you from doing so.

“You what?” you barely whispered and Draco took that as his chance to walk towards you placing both his hands on the wall next to you.

As you looked back up at him he slowly started to remove one hand from the wall so he could place it onto your cheek and just like he’d done in the store, he began leaning in until his lips were barely hovering above yours, you so desperately wanted to close the gap between you but a part of you was screaming to push him away and never look back, but as your eyes met his once more you couldn’t bring yourself to do it your heart taking control as he pressed his lips against your own.

Your lips continued dancing with each other at a normal pace until he’d moved to deepen the kiss swiftly wrapping his arms around your waist so you were able to loop yours around his neck, he pushed you even tighter up against the wall causing you to let out a gasp allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You ran your fingers through his hair gently pulling on the strands on the back of his head before letting your head fall to the side as he began leaving kisses down your neck his hands trailing down your sides until they wrapped around your hips pulling you even further into him.

You gently blinked your eyes open as you pulled away from him, your lips undoubtedly swollen and your lipstick smeared but you didn’t care.

“No one can know about this, not until I talk to Harry” you breathed out leaning your forehead against his as you attempted to slow your heart rate by taking deep breaths in and out.

“Of course I won’t tell anyone” he lied, he’d gotten quite good at that after having to continuously lie to his father ever since he was a child, one particular incident that he would never forget was when he’d accidentally let one of the house elves go because he didn’t know that to free them they had to be granted an item of clothing and on a particularly cold night he saw no harm in granting the elf his jacket since it had been shivering beside him and when his father had barged into his room later in the night furious at his son’s stupidity Draco had lied and told him that the elf had tricked him into doing so and upon hearing this his father had tracked the elf down and casted the unforgivable curse onto him, after that Draco lied to his father about almost everything he did to ensure something like that would never happen again.

Amongst his peers he was powerful and feared but when it came to his father he was nothing, never good enough and always in the way. School was the only place he felt he was more than his father’s words so he knew that as soon as he would make his way into the Slytherin common room the first thing he was going to do was tell his friends that he’d done it, that you were slowly but surely beginning to fall for him, which put him right back on top.

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@itzsoff @multiversegalaxygirl @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @awkwardnesshabitat @tiredplier @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @macheregrace @dobreesersei @voidmalfoy @lana-isabelle @fangirlyah @dracomalfoyswifey @lonely-kermit @mrsmyamalfoy @fuzzy-panda @sluthug @urbankaite2 @chickeebabe @classygirlything @dark-night-sky-99 @ranialih @pillowjj @im-a-stranger-thing @christinechickiee @imstillhere-butallislost @spencerreidisbootiful @hip-hopphile @justmesadgirl @gia-kerks @lilxnvm @kelly182001 @moonbug26 @gabiconstellation @sleepinmoonbean @mautand @oldschoolkiddo @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 @dreams-in-blxck @stalker83005 @criesinlies @sxlted-carxrmel @moonjooniee @maskd-hearts @little-honey-bear @dobreesersei

Let me know in my inbox or asks if you’d liked to be added, much love <333

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy angst #draco lucius malfoy #draco imagine #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagine #tom felton #tom felton imagine #hermione granger #ron weasley #slytherin #hufflepuff #gryffindor #ravenclaw #harry potter films

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emma-cantmakeuphermind · 3 years

Text

Dating Richie Tozier Would Include:

has she/her pronouns but just lemme know if you need me to make a copy with other pronouns

this came out way longer than i had planned

Warnings: uh just some fluff maybe angst, slight cursing i mean its richie trashmouth tozier,,,bEwArE, light smut under the cut

ok, you guys probably met in elementary school

you were most likely getting bullied or sum and then bill, stan, eddie, and richie found you crying

long story short they asked if you wanted to be their friend

on that day you became the first official girl in the losers club

you and richie probably were best friends instantly

but now on to the actual dating stuff

when you first started dating richie couldn’t keep his excitement to himself

he probably made comments like this

“guys i can’t believe it! y/n l/n is my girlfriend!”

“i mean like how? shes so fucking hot”

and the other losers were probably like

“okay we get it richie, shes way out of your league, we didn’t need you to tell us to figure that out.”

*insert stanley’s iconic eyeroll here*

pda in your relationship has definitely evolved over the years

at first it was subtle hand holding

maybe a kiss on the cheek here and there

then of course you guys had your first kiss

it was amazing, ecstatic, ya know all the beautiful things in life

richie talks a big game but he was so shy when it came to kissing you the first few times

after the two of you got more comfortable kissing in public

you had no shame in full on making out in front of the losers

you of course got the classic stan eyeroll, and eddies sarcastic gag sound

you guys don’t really have dates

more like... private hangouts

usually those private hangouts include:

listening to your favorite songs

richie trying to sing along but -_-

you find it cute tho

dancing crazily

slow dancing if a slow song is on

but of course

making out is guaranteed

richie always trying to turn a make out into something more 🥴

sometimes you reject him...sometimes you don’t

tho it doesn’t matter what the day has in store the day will always end with the two of you cuddling

and also playing with his hair is a must

he loves the feeling of you running your fingers through his hair

if you’re ever feeling insecure, richie will hype you up so much

like literally... he wont stop telling you how beautiful you are until you look yourself in the mirror and tell yourself how beautiful you are

if that still doesn’t help however

he will literally drag you to the losers houses

even if its 2 am

and vIoLeNtLy knock on their door just to get them to tell you that your beautiful

but not to beautiful

bc if they ever flirted with HIS girl..

he’d tHrOw HaNdS

but while were on that topic

hes sooOOOO protective over you

like not OVERprotective

but close enough

needy asf when it comes to your touch

he loves it when your holding him

or hes holding you

he doesn’t care he just needs physical contact with you 24/7

hes always needs to hold your hand

or put an arm around you

just to reassure him that your there

since his parents are never really there for him

and constantly left him alone

hes scared you might do the same

ahem...now for some less pg13 stuff

im not gonna go to into depth here just touch on some of the basics

first of all this boy is always tryna get into your pants

he has no shame

like none

what-so-ever

usually its starts out with making out that evolves into more

now things are gonna go one of 2 ways here

soft and loving

or rough and kinky

for now were gonna go the soft route

ill save the rougher route for another day

but either way you always come at least twice

even if he doesn’t at all

which is rare but

he will slowly start to take your shirt off

then you’ll take off his

he’ll move his kisses down to your neck

as he unbuttons your pants

slowly sliding them off until your left in your underwear

he’ll sit up a little bit so he can take his pants off as well

as your both left if you underwear he unclips your bra

which by now is like a second nature for him

he’ll leave marks like everywhere-

he trails his kisses to the hem of your underwear

always looks at you for permission

once you give him the nod of approval

he slides your underwear off

he lowers himself where his face is level with your core

he’ll start off slow then pick up his pace

you’ll reach down and grab his hair and-

my god does he love it when you pull his hair

he’ll groan against you

the vibrations send you over the edge

once you come he’ll lick it all up

he’ll then slide his boxers off

his dick smacks his stomach leaking precum

(im crying and cringing simultaneously, im so bad at this😭)

he lines himself up with your entrance

makes sure your ready

and slowly enters

he starts off slow but quickly picks up the pace

you’re sensitive from orgasming only mere seconds before hand

constant kisses in between moans

loves to grab your tits

he loves the way they bounce when he pounds into you

he loves to come together with you

he finds it so hot

normally hes quiet and more of a groaner than a moaner

but he can let a moan slip once or twice

you find it so hot

once you both come he falls next to you

soon he’ll get up and get something to clean you up with

literally the best after care

will snuggle you all night

making sure you feel safe

and drift off to sleep in each others arms

okayyyy well thats over thank god

#it2017 #richie tozier #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier smut #the losers club #the losers club imagine #the losers club x reader #the losers club smut

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geewritesshit · 3 years

Text

if your body matches what your eyes can do

note: so i have been writing this for my friend nicole and it has taken way too long; i really hope you all like this :))

pairing: osamu x meian

cw: a lil bit of angst, body image issues, blow jobs, anal sex, spit kink, daddy kink, slight praise kink

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34272175

Osamu does not want to be at this club. His jeans feel too tight and he is hyper aware of his stomach poking out just a bit too much for his liking as he notices all the thin, buff, and fit men surrounding him in the club. I should leave soon; he thinks this as he crosses his arms over his chest looking out over the crowds of people to watch his twin grind on his boyfriend. A pang of jealousy that makes him feel sick to his stomach flashes through his chest. Atsumu’s T-shirt is a little tight and rides up every now and again showing off his muscled abdomen. Osamu feels terrible comparing himself to his brother because Atsumu needs to be in shape for his job and Osamu doesn’t.

The comparison is unfair and he knows this, but he cannot stop thinking about it. He thinks about all the people he’s looked at tonight and tried to hit on, and how they gave him a once over and dismissed him. He crosses his arms over his chest and hunches slightly, trying to make himself smaller. His hands move to fiddle with his drink in front of him as he tries to keep himself out of everyone's way. He stops moving when a big hand slams down on the bar next to him, making him jump. Osamu looks up to see one of the men from Atsumu’s team, although for the life of him he can’t remember the man’s name.

The man’s dark hair is slightly mussed from dancing and his button-up shirt is stretched across his massive chest. Osamu’s breath is caught in his throat as he tries to say something, anything to get this man’s attention. The dark-haired man yells a drink order to the bartender over the music and then looks down at Osamu.

“Hello, you’re Miya’s brother, Osamu, right?” His voice is a deep baritone that reverberates and sends shivers all the way down to Osamu’s toes. And holy shit the hot guy remembered his name.

“Yeah,” he replies, blushing and just a bit breathless, “I’m sorry, I never caught yer name.” He feels stupid because he was too caught up in himself to remember any of Tsumu’s teammates' names.

“I’m Meian Shuugo,” Meian answers, his smile never faltering. However, Osamu’s blush deepens because he should have remembered this man’s name because he is the captain of the MSBY Black Jackals.

“Shit, I feel dumb. I should have remembered you, captain.” Now it’s Meian’s turn to blush. He’s cute like this, Osamu thinks, he’s really hot too. Osamu’s thoughts screech to a halt, however, when Meian leans in close to him, his eyes darkening.

“I liked hearing you call me captain, but if you don’t want me to take you home don’t do it again,” his gruff voice makes Osamu swallow a whimper before speaking again.

“Are you sure, Captain?” he draws out the last word, leaning close to moan the word into Meian’s ear. Osamu hopes he looks as hot as he wants to look for this buff ass man. Meian’s eyes darken more as he leans forward closing the gap between the two crashing their lips together.

The kiss is a desperate action, filled with teeth and tongue like they’re teenagers. Osamu’s arms reach up and around Meian’s neck pulling him closer as the man settles his huge hands on Osamu’s squishy thighs. He tries not to cringe at the feeling of someone touching the fat on his legs, losing himself in the kiss. After a minute they break apart panting slightly.

“So,” Meian starts, face flushed, “my place or yours?”

“Yours, Tsumu is staying at mine.” Meian laughs while nodding in agreement.

“You were quick with that,” his voice is nearly too much for Osamu to handle, his heart thundering in his chest threatening to break out.

“Yeah, well, it’s been a while,” Osamu replies, a little breathless, trying to contain himself.

“Their loss.” Meian grabs Osamu’s hand leading him to the exit.

As soon as the cool air hits their faces Meian is pulling Osamu in for another desperate, hungry kiss. One of Meian’s hands is holding him in place by the back of the neck, the other is working its way to Osamu’s ass, kneading and grabbing at the soft flesh. Osamu whimpers into Meian’s lips, wanting and needing more than they can do on a sidewalk in the city. Thankfully, Meian had enough foresight to order an Uber that is pulling up to where they are on the sidewalk.

They clamber in still holding onto each other like they are each other’s last connection to the physical realm. It’s a ten-minute ride to Meian’s place, and Osamu can hardly wait, but the longer he sits in the warm car the more aware of himself he becomes. He doesn’t usually do this; he’s not the type to go home with some guy he basically just met. And he keeps growing more and more aware of how heavy his stomach sits against his body. He is so aware of it, and he’s growing so close to panic until Meian’s lips pull him out of his thoughts.

It’s not the same hungry kiss from the sidewalk; this one is sweet, soft, and slow. It pulls him in and feels like coming home. When they pull apart Osamu isn’t left panting and begging, he’s staring up into Meian’s face with a look of wonder.

“You looked a bit too in your head,” Meian whispers to Osamu, bringing his hand to Osamu’s thigh to caress it in such a calming way. Osamu melts into Meian’s touch and body.

“Thanks,” Osamu is breathless. He doesn’t get the time to say anything else because they are pulling up to Meian’s place, and thanking their driver as they rush through the cold air to the door. Meian already has his key out when they reach the door and as soon as they set foot inside Meian’s lips are on Osamu’s, effectively pinning him against the wall. They struggle between kisses, pulling their shoes off, and trying to discard any outerwear before they make their way into the house proper.

Osamu is tangling his legs with Meian’s seeking as much friction as he can find, chasing his high. Meian gripping Osamu’s body with his huge hands makes Osmau feel so small. Meian’s hands have found their way to his ass again and he’s hoisting Osamu up, leveraging underneath his thighs. Instinctively Osamu wraps his legs around Meian’s waist; however, he also voices a protest.

“Meian don-” Osamu is cut off by a growling voice.

“Call me Shuugo,” Meian’s tone comes off softer than a growl should.

“Shuugo,” Osamu whispers it so reverently, like a prayer. He shakes his initial shock off to get back to his original thought, “Please put me down. I’m too big.” Meian levels him an unimpressed stare.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Meian orders, he’s so convincing Osamu’s spine snaps up as straight as he can manage, “Do you think I’m weak and I can’t lift you?” Osamu blushes at his words.

“That’s not what I was saying, but guys like me aren’t small enough to be picked up and tossed around,” his voice is tinged with embarrassment as he tries to avoid outright explaining his insecurity.

“Who told you that?” Was the only thing that came out of Meian’s mouth. “If you like to be picked up and tossed around you don’t need to be a certain size to enjoy that.” Meian’s find themselves pressing against Osamu’s rapidly heating cheeks, slowly making their way down his neck to his chest. Meian adjusts his grip on Osamu before moving them away from the wall and walking them to his bed.

When they reach his room, Meian deftly flips the light switch on and drops Osamu softly onto his bed. Meian pulls his shirt up and over his head, throwing it onto the floor behind him. Meian leans forward to kiss Osamu again, and their lips crash together again with Osamu moaning into Meian’s mouth. Osamu’s hands are traveling up Meian’s chest, tracing the broad planes and feeling every glorious inch of the man in front of him. Meian has the same idea, and his hands are working themselves underneath Osamu’s shirt trying to pull it up. Osamu can’t help but pull away, tugging his shirt back into place.

“I can just take my pants off,” Osamu says his voice laced with shame, “Most guys don’t want my shirt off, or if you want me to take it off we can turn the lights off.” He’s trying to pass it off as lighthearted but his voice keeps pitching due to his nerves.

“Are you okay, you seem like you’re not doing okay…” Meian’s tone is concerned, and Osamu almost breaks down right there. His concern sounds so much like he cares about Osamu beyond fucking him, and Osamu doesn’t if his heart can take that.

“I’m totally fine,” he says, like a liar, “It’s just in my experience, most guys aren’t too into big hairy chests, so we just turn the lights off and ignore it.” The look on Meian’s face is incredulous.

“Well,” Meian starts, shaking his head, “Then most guys are either stupid or blind.” It’s Osamu’s turn to be surprised. “I think your body will be amazing no matter what because I think you’re amazing. You’re bold and sweet; I really can’t imagine not wanting to see any part of you.”

“Fuck, of course, you’re perfect.” Osamu feels a lump begin to rise in his throat because he knows he’s about to self-sabotage. “Of course you’re perfect, and then there’s me. You know how weird we looked leaving the club together, most people will think you just have, like, a weird fetish for fat, chunky guys. And I’m just the guy who was lucky enough to land a chance with you.” Osamu can feel the tears welling in his eyes, as he prepares himself for Meian to come to his senses and ask that he sees himself out.

“I’m the lucky one,” Meian whispers, barely audible.

“What?” Osamu sniffs. Meian clears his throat.

“I’m the lucky one,” Meian says louder, “You looked like you were about to leave, and by some wild chance, you stayed. I didn’t want to miss my chance with you, and I was so nervous that you were going to leave. You didn’t even know my name, but that’s fine because we’ve never really met in person, I’ve just seen you so much on Miya’s Instagram.” Osamu is staring at him like he spawned a second head and four more arms.

“Wait,” Osamu’s voice is shaking, “You thought you wouldn’t have a chance with me?”

“I thought you were going to leave and would have to wait another few months before I saw you again… I thought if we hooked up, it might make you want to stay. But it seems more like I’m making you uncomfortable and you don’t want to do this with me. I’m really sorry for what I did to make you uncomfortable.” Meian just looks so earnest that Osamu can’t help it.

“I thought you wouldn’t like me because I’m fat,” Osamu confesses. “You aren’t making me uncomfortable, every other person I’ve slept with I guess convinced me that no one would want me if I’m not thin or muscular. It’s nothing you did, it’s just all in my head I think.”

“So what if you’re fat? It’s not a bad thing…You get to be soft and sexy.” Meian tone is insisting that he is right, and it’s so convincing. “I wouldn’t want you any way other than how you are right now.” Osamu’s lower lip trembles at Meian’s words; of course, he had to be so perfect. Osamu’s chest is tight and he hates this feeling, it would have been so much easier if Meian would have just shut the light off or asked him to leave.

“I’m sorry.” Osamu just wants to cry. Fuck, why did he have to be so nice?

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Meian leans in and kisses him so softly like he’s scared Osamu will try to make a run for it. “If you don’t want to do this anymore, we can leave off here and just hang out or whatever you feel comfortable with.” Osamu wants to kiss him again; kiss him so fucking senseless that neither of them will be able to remember their names.

“No,” he says softly, “I want to keep going. I really do.” Meian smiles at his words before leaning forward and enveloping him in a hungry kiss. Meian’s hands are cupping Osamu’s face while Osamu’s hands worry at the hem of his shirt before tugging it upwards.

They break apart for Osamu to pull his shirt up and over his head, dropping it next to him on the bed. Meian sucks in a breath, looking at Osamu’s now exposed chest. Meian’s hungry look sends heat pooling to Osamu’s stomach as he surges forward, wanting, needing more of everything Meian is willing to give him.

“Fuck,” Meian’s whisper is reverent, “How are you so perfect?” Osamu feels his whole body blush as his hips are stuttering trying to seek any friction they can find. Meian tugs Osamu to the edge of the bed, getting down on his knees in front of him. Meian’s hands and lips are everywhere, whispering quiet praises about how perfect Osamu is and how much he can’t wait to fuck his perfect ass. Osamu is so painfully hard as Meian kisses down his chest, moaning as Meian’s mouth inches closer and closer to his clothed cock.

When Meian reaches the waistband of Osamu’s jeans, he looks up at Osamu with questioning eyes, making sure he wants to continue. At Osamu’s nod, he fumbles with the button and zipper of Osamu’s jeans, tapping Osamu’s thigh for him to lift himself off the bed slightly so he can pull the jeans down to his mid-thigh before Osamu is struggling to pull his legs out the rest of the way. They make eye contact while Osamu is battling his jeans, and erupt into soft laughter as Osamu finally breaks free from his denim prison.

Meian is quick to lean down and mouth at Osamu’s underwear-covered cock, a wet patch forms as Osamu whimpers at the contact.

“Please, Shuugo, need you,” Osamu keens as Meian turns his attention away from Osamu’s cock and back to worship every inch of Osamu’s torso.

“Just a minute, baby,” Meian says against his soft stomach, looking up at Osamu, “I want to soak up every perfect inch of you.” Fuck. Meian works his way down to Osamu’s thighs biting and kissing the plush skin there. Meian was mumbling some nonsense about how sexy and perfect Osamu’s thighs are.

By this point Osamu has had enough; he uses both hands to reach out and cup Meian’s face forcing him to look up at Osamu. He begins to stand, forcing Meian to follow suit and stand up looking down slightly at Osamu. Osamu pulls him in for another searing kiss; his hands immediately going to undo Meian’s slacks. Osamu can feel Meian cock twitching beneath the fabric.

“It’s my turn,” he whispers against Meian’s lips, cupping Meian’s cock through his boxers. Meian’s body shudders against Osamu’s, anticipating what is coming next.

Osamu maneuvers the huge man so his back is to the bed and pushes him down into a sitting position. Straddling Meian’s lap, he leans forward to kiss him and grind down against him. Meian’s groan sends a shudder through Osamu’s body, and he grinds down more wanting to feel more.

His mind keeps demanding more, more, more where Meian is concerned. When they finally break apart, Osamu begrudgingly lifts himself out of Meian’s lap and works Meian’s boxers off. Meian’s flushed, leaking cock slaps against the broad planes of his stomach when Osamu finally works the waistband far enough down. Osamu involuntarily licks his lips as he stares hungrily at Meian’s cock, thinking about how he desperately wants that in his mouth.

He really does want to tease Meian the way he teased Osamu, but he can’t bring himself to do it, not with Meian’s cock sitting there in front of him just begging to be sucked. Osamu brings himself down so he is at face level with Meian’s cock before taking it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the precum slicked tip. Meian throws his head back and groans, threading his fingers through Osamu’s silvery blonde hair before thrusting shallowly into Osamu’s throat. Osamu tries to relax his throat enough to take Meian’s massive length deeper into his throat, but he’s just so thick and it’s making Osamu’s eyes water as he stares up at Meian with his eyes wide.

“Holy shit,” Meian groans, “Fuck, you look so good like this. A good boy on your knees for me.” Osamu hums around Meian’s cock, as he palms himself listening to Meian praise him. He’s fumbling with his underwear trying to pull it down while trying to suck the man in front of him deeper into his throat. Osamu wants to pull every glorious noise out of this man if it’s the last thing he ever does. “Fuck I’m close. Please let me fuck you.” Meian’s voice is so raspy and gruff that Osamu almost cums on the spot.

Osamu hollows out his cheeks in response, sucking harder and making Meian’s hips buck up forcing his cock further into Osamu’s tight heat. Osamu pulls off, and kisses the tip of Meian’s cock as he maintains eye contact with the panting man in front of him.

“You did such a good job,” Meian’s hungry look hasn’t left his face, “Open your mouth for me, baby.” Osamu’s lips part and Meian leans forward spitting into Osamu’s waiting and eager mouth. Meian hand reaches out to grip Osamu’s chin, while he holds the spit in his mouth. Meian’s tongue licks its way past Osamu’s pliant lips. Their tongues intertwined mixing the taste of Meian’s cock and spit. After a few seconds, they part. Meian gives a big theatrical swallow before saying, “Delicious.” Fuck.

“Please,” Osamu whines, “please fuck me.” Meian stares down at his beautiful face, eyes watering and cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. Meian bites back a groan at the sight and steels himself for what he wants to see this man do.

“I don’t think you want it enough,” Meian says, “Beg for it,” Osamu whines staring up at Meian with big eyes. Osamu’s hands work themselves up to his chubby stomach and smooth over his nipples, making him gasp. Osamu twists and pulls at his nipples, moaning lightly. Meian’s cock twitches at every sound emitting from Osamu’s mouth as he fondles himself for Meian’s eyes only. Osamu inches closer, hoisting himself up to straddle one of Meian’s thighs.

“Hng, daddy, please,” Osamu’s hips begin to move as he rides Meian’s thigh, “Please fuck me, daddy,” Meian growls deep from within his chest, but he holds himself still watching this beautiful man fall apart with nothing but his thigh. “Fuck, daddy, pleasepleaseplease.”

“Do you think you deserve my cock?” Meian murmurs into Osamu’s ear, “I think you could get yourself off on just my thigh, like the perfect little slut you are.”

“Please, no,” Osamu keens, “I need your cock.” His hips grind down harder on Meian’s thigh, a wet patch forming where his cock is leaking. Meian’s hands grip Osamu’s plush waist, fingernails sinking into his soft skin creating indents.

“You can cum, Osamu,” Meian whispers, and it’s like that was what Osamu had been waiting for. His release coats the inside of his underwear as he comes with a whine, his hips still working and grinding against Meian’s thick, muscled thigh. Meian whispers, “Good boy,” against Osamu’s neck.

Osamu’s weight collapses against Meian’s chest as he catches his breath, Meian smiles down at him, as his hands' ghost down to Osamu’s underwear. Meian pushes past the elastic band and drags the underwear down as much as he can before he has to pat Osamu’s upper thigh to get him to stand so they can get him out of his underwear. Osamu groans as he stands, still leaning as much weight as he can against Meian.

“Do you still want me to fuck you?” Meian asks. Osamu nods as a shudder works its way down his spine. Meian adds, “I don’t hear you.”

“Yes, daddy. Please fuck me,” Osamu’s voice is slightly hoarse. Meian smirks, maneuvering Osamu onto the bed so he can grab the lube out of the nightstand. Meian gets back on the bed, hovering over Osamu and kissing him. Osamu’s hands immediately rush up and tangle in Meian’s hair, scruffing it up more than it already was.

They break apart as Meian clicks open the bottle of lube, slicking up his fingers as he leans back to line them up with Osamu’s twitching hole. Meian pushes one thick finger past the tight ring of muscle, marveling at how Osamu clenches around the intrusion and moaning through it all. Osamu’s hips move of their own volition, grinding back onto Meian’s finger trying to feel him deeper. Osamu’s desperate little cries and panting fill the room.

“Please, I need more,” Osamu begs, wanting, needing more. Meian doesn’t bother answering as he forces another finger inside of Osamu, relishing in the sounds Osamu makes as he gets filled more and more by Meian’s fingers. The fingers working Osamu’s hole open, scissoring him open a bit more before adding a third finger. Meian forces his fingers even deeper, finally brushing the bundle of nerves nestled inside Osamu, making him nearly scream in pleasure.

“I wish you could see how perfect you are right now,” Meian nearly growls, “It’s like you were made for me.” Osamu’s arms can no longer hold his front up, collapsing as he arches his back more for Meian. Meian’s other hand reaches up to squeeze Osamu’s ass, loving the way the other man’s skin reddens and the glorious sounds Osamu makes when Meian squeezes too hard. He smacks Osamu’s ass, watching the soft flesh jiggle while Osamu quietly moans.

“Please, Shuugo,” Osamu moans, “I can’t take it anymore. I need daddy’s cock.” Meian smacks his ass again.

“You need more?” Meian teases, head still spinning from hearing Osamu moan his name, “Does a slut like you need more to fill you?” Osamu just moans, but Meian is beyond caring as he pulls his fingers out so he can use more lube to slick up his cock.

Meian gives his cock a couple of strokes to fully cover it before lining himself up with Osamu’s winking hole. Meian begins to push in, groaning a quiet fuck as he pushes into Osamu’s still tight heat. He gives a few shallow thrusts, trying not to cum seconds into fucking Osamu.

“Ahn, harder, please,” Osamu demands, grinding his hips back. Meian is so entranced, he can’t even consider reprimanding Osamu for anything. His mind is blank with pleasure as he pulls almost the whole way out before slamming back in.

“Is this enough for you?” Meian demands roughly. Osamu’s reply is incoherent pleasured babbles that Meian can’t even begin to comprehend.

Meian looks down at where they are connected, almost dizzy with pleasure. He decides the most amazing sight on the planet is Osamu’s ass jiggling with each hard thrust into him.

“Fuck,” Meian groans, “ I can’t fucking get enough of you. You’re so perfect.” He wraps his arms around Osamu’s chest, grazing his nipples and making the other man unabashedly moan. Meian pulls Osamu to his chest so they’re both upright, with Meian still pounding into Osamu as the other man whimpers at the stretch of himself around Meian’s thick cock.

Osamu’s head falls back onto Meian’s shoulder as Meian’s hips begin to slow a little but reach deeper. His soft babble drive Meian crazy, as Osamu begs for something harder and deeper. Osamu’s babblings quiet to soft whimpers, as his eyes begin to glaze over in pleasure.

“Yeah?” Meian whispers to the fucked out man on his cock. Osamu clenches around him as he mumbles something slightly coherent. “What was that?” Meian asks, his voice smug.

“I want you to cum in me,” Osamu slurs, “wanna feel you.” Meian’s grip on Osamu tightens. Shit.

Osamu turns slightly and their lips crash together in a near-violent storm of moans and teeth. Meian fucks harder into Osamu, feeling that heat pooling in his stomach. He’s getting closer and closer, spurred on by Osamu’s whimpers of I’m close, and please let me cum.

“Osamu,” Meian pants, “I want to feel you cum on my cock. Now.” Osamu shivers and clenches at Meian’s demanding tone. His cock twitching and spurting thick ropes of cum as Meian fucks him harder through his orgasm.

Osamu’s body is practically jelly as Meian fucks into him chasing his own orgasm. He groans Osamu’s name as he spills into him, fucking Osamu like he’s Meian’s personal fleshlight.

“Fuck,” Meian groans as he pulls out, watching his load spill out of Osamu’s clenching hole and listening to the younger man whimper. Meian leans down to Osamu’s ass to lick up what is spilling out, relishing in the soft moans that still escape Osamu’s raw throat.

“You really are perfect,” Meian says as he leans forward to tenderly kiss Osamu’s cheek. Osamu is already drifting off as Meian asks, “Please stay a little longer?”

#hq smut #haikyu smut #meian smut #osamu smut #osamei #meian shuugo #osamu miya

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

Text

All I want ~ JJK [Request]

WORD COUNT: 4.2k

PAIRING: jeon jungkook x fem!reader

GENRE: Angst, fake dating, established relationship, fluffy ending

A/N: Hope this is okay for you!

The day had started off so brilliantly, Jungkook had been texting you to arrange a romantic weekend away together to make up for the last couple of months of awfulness but now it felt as though your world was falling apart. That and your anniversary was coming up this weekend so he wanted to take you somewhere to get away together. But now you were staring down at the magazine in your hands you could have screamed out in heartbreak as you saw the photo that was splashed across the front page. Lip locking with someone that wasn't you, making out with the devil.

"Y/n? I'm waiting?!" You stared through the glass window at your boss who was smirking at you, she knew what was going on and why that magazine had been placed on your desk that morning. The front page was splashed with images of her and Jungkook making out at the side of the Han River. Taking in a deep breath you got up from your desk and picked up the magazine, slipping it into the reviews of her latest book and walked into her room.

"You have a meeting with BigHit this afternoon," You told her as you tried to act as though you hadn't seen the magazine, despite her being the one that had placed it onto the desk in the first place.

"Is Guky going to be there?" You cringed at the nickname that she had for him but you bit down on your tongue nodding your head at her.

"You and Jungkook have a date tonight in his favourite restaurant." What you meant by that was your favourite restaurant, it was where Jungkook had given you a promise ring before he went on his first tour when you were dating. The longer you stared down at the desk thinking about your time together you thought back on the first time he told you about all of this. This being the fake dating contract that was going on between him and your boss Miss Ko Moon-Young.

The whole world felt as though it had frozen around you as Jungkook told you what he was being told to do by BigHit and it just seemed off to you. Why would Jungkook need to fake date someone to gain more fame when he was in one of the largest boy bands in the world. The contract was sitting on the kitchen table in front of you, he'd already crossed the T's and dotted the I's without even asking you how you would feel about this. After a four year relationship, you figured that he would have at least asked if you would be okay with him fake dating someone.

"Baby it's just for a couple of months...It's not for me it's for her, BigHit needs her reputation to go up as they're signing her." You scoffed at his piss-poor attempt at making it seem as though it was no big deal. The author who was supposed to be fake dating is Ko Moon-Young and she was one of the most well-known authors in the writing world and not because she was good at writing. Her writing was exceptional but it was her personality that she was mostly known for. Being awful to her fans, being nasty with every person she met. The woman would do anything she could to get what she wanted, which included stealing from restaurants she ate at. Stealing things from the people she dated because she just wanted the things she saw. Nothing would stand in her way. The woman was dreadful, you'd always been taught that if you had nothing nice to say than to keep your mouth shut but she was the exception to that rule. Standing up from the table you grabbed the plates from your dinner the two of you had shared and began to load up the dishwasher,

"You mean her reputation needs saving," You grumbled as you shut the dishwasher turning around to look at him as you folded your arms over your chest. Sighing to himself he looked at you, he knew that you weren't going to like the idea of it but when BigHit told him to do something it wasn't as though he had much of a choice. He smiled weakly at you as he stepped closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he looked into your eyes.

"She's your boss you know, you know what she's like." You rolled your eyes at him and shook your head. Although she was your boss it didn't mean you had to like her. The woman made your life a living hell, always making you do something she could have done for herself.

"Baby, you know that I love you, nothing will stop me from loving you." You hummed sarcastically in response to him and tried to walk away but he pushed you against the countertop and forced you to look into his eyes. He wasn't going to let you walk away without talking about it first.

"Ko is nothing to me, we're the ones that have been together for four years. Nothing is going to make me forget that," You looked into his eyes as you tried not to get mad at him for all of this,

"You could have told me before signing it," You mumbled as you thought about it more and more, biting down on your lip as you realised what they would have to do together. All of the things that you wanted to do with him in public, the events, the walking around like a real couple and not having to hide in the house all of the time. Pretending as though you didn't know him and hiding whenever you're out in public and someone happens to stare at him too much and realise who he was.

"I didn't have a choice, I had to sign it," You pressed your head into his chest as you sighed, Jungkook kissed the top of your head and held onto you tightly making you relax against him.

"Now, come up to bed and let's get some sleep?" You hummed at him again and looked over at the clock on the wall,

"You can't stay. You have an interview with Miss Moon-Young tomorrow," You mumbled, as much as you would have loved him to stay close to you all night you knew if he stayed in your place he ould never leave and if he ever did he'd be late. Manager Sejin was already mad at you enough for making him late a lot,

"I'll set an alarm." He whined as you started pushing him towards the front door, you shook your head at his protest.

"Sejin-Oppa already hates me, I'm not letting you make him hate me more or we'll never be able to out our relationship." It was the truth. Sejin was the one in charge of deciding if Jungkook's relationship was allowed to be outed to the public and he'd declined all of the chances you had to announce it.

"Are you even listening to me Y/n?" You stared at her as she questioned you again, you shook your head,

"Sorry...I was-"

"Thinking about Jungkook? He's so cute, isn't he!? The kiss was so random! I wasn't expecting it!" She screamed out as she stared at you. Of course, she knew that you and Jungkook were dating. It had been revealed to her when she'd been asking what was going to happen between her and Jungkook. Kissing was off the table, you didn't want them to kiss, you didn't even want them to be near one another and she knew that which was exactly why you knew she'd been the one to put the magazine down for you to see.

"He is. I hope you guys can enjoy tonight," You were doing your best to seem as happy about this as possible, trying to be as kind as you could about all of this. The best way to get through it was to ignore it, the contract had been extended by two more months and this was the final one. Pretty soon there would be a mutual break coming up and you would be able to have your boyfriend back, all to yourself.

"I'm thinking! This weekend when we all go on our little holiday I can steal him for a few hours?! We can get seen and then you can have him whatever it is he has planned." You frowned as she mentioned the holiday.

"W-What?" You questioned, staring into her eyes as the smile on your lips slowly began to fade and an evil smirk began to grow on her face.

"Didn't Jungkook tell you? The only way you were allowed to take your little anniversary holiday was if I came along?" A shiver ran through you as you dropped your clipboard onto her desk in shock.

"I-I'm taking my lunch." You mumbled quickly as you began to back out of the room, bumping into the door frame as you began to take off and out of the building as you headed straight to Jungkook. Calling his phone and asking him to meet you at the back entrance of the BigHit building where you would always meet up with one another.

"She's coming with us?!" You yelled as he pushed you into one of the empty dance studios, shutting the door and leaning against it as he waited for you to get the yelling out of your system. When he turned around you were standing with your hands on your hips waiting for him to say something about everything that was going on.

"It was the only way we would be able to go out baby. I thought you would be happy." He told you as he looked at you, he was doing everything he could to keep your relationship working while also maintaining his job but it was getting harder.

"Happy? Yes. I would love my horrible boss following me and my boyfriend around all weekend." You held back the tears that were threatening to come out, the one thing you didn't want to do was cry in front of him when you knew he was having a hard time with all of this as well. Taking in a couple of deep breathes you shook your head at him,

"I'm sorry...I just- She put that magazine of you and her on my desk and then she dropped the shell on me that she would be coming with us?" He shook his head as he brought you into a tight hug wanting to hold onto you for as long as he could, the two of you were finally alone for the first time in months. You'd hardly had any time together since his "relationship" with her, it had always been them needing to be around one another all of the time. Leaving you and Jungkook on the outskirts of the relationship,

"I promise that once I'm seen landing with her in the airport and we're seen checking it, that's it. We can do whatever we want, whatever our hearts desire," He promised you as he kissed your lips softly,

"She'll leave us alone?" He nodded his head at you and you smiled weakly at him, deciding that if she wasn't going to be around you all of the time that you could do it.

"Then I suppose that's okay." You mumbled to him as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kisses him, whining against his lips as you realised just how long it had been since you'd kissed him.

"I miss you," You whimpered as you pulled at his shirt to open the buttons, you felt the smirk on his lips grow in size as he began to push you against the mirror behind you. Pulling at the shirt you were wearing as he tried to open it, he'd missed you sneaking into the building to have some fun together,

"I miss you too baby," He panted as he began kissing down your neck, biting into your skin when someone tapped on the door softly making you groan out.

"Miss Ko is calling for Y/n, she wants her to come back from her lunch early," You heard Sejin say from the door making you bite down on your lip and look into Jungkook's eyes.

"Just think of our weekend, our time together." He whispered to you as he kissed your lips one last time, watching you walk out of the room sighing to himself as soon as you were gone.

"When are you going to tell her?" Sejin asked as he walked into the dance studio, closing the door behind him as he looked at Jungkook for an answer.

"When the time is right-"

"She'll see it in the magazines sooner or later," Jungkook rolled his eyes making his way out of the room as he tried to think of the best way to tell you that the fake dating was being moved to a fake engagement.

The plane ride to your surprise holiday was only short, Jungkook had taken the time to fly you all to a small private island where you could be alone for most of the trip. The plane for you had been awful though since you weren't supposed to be seen with Jungkook you were sitting in Economy while Jungkook and Miss Ko were up in first class, Sejin in business class. You thought you would have at least been placed there since Miss Ko was your boss but it turned out you were just shoved to the back.

"Baby you're going to love it," Jungkook whispered as he covered your eyes. He'd gotten you to meet him outside his room in the hotel and was now leading you down the beach with his hands over your eyes. Your hands clutching onto his forearms as you tried not to scream out, you always liked being able to see where you were going but he was keeping everything a secret. The only reason you knew you were on the beach was that you could feel the sand and hear the waves crashing down against the sand.

"Can I just watch? I mean I already know we're on a beach," You giggled as you felt Jungkook struggle to walk you around the beach.

"Because this is supposed to be a special surprise," He whined as he moved his hands away from your eyes,

"Anything with you is special baby," You promised him as you turned to look at him, not noticing the way he had arranged somewhere for you both to sit.

"I know but, the last few months have been so hard on you so I wanted to make this a way of making it up to you," He whispered as he kisses your lips softly, that was when he turned you around to look at the firepit on the beach. Sitting beside it was a picnic blanket, picnic basket and pillows laying all over the blanket so that the two of you could sit comfortably.

"Jungkook this is-" You stopped talking when he bent down and went into the basket pulling out a see-through box to reveal a cake. 'Happy Anniversary Y/n!' Written across the front in bright pink icing,

"Jungkook it's adorable, thank you." You whispered as you looked at him. All the months of the two of you not being able to be together, went out of your mind and all you could think about was the time you had spent together. All of the good memories flooding back into your head.

"I got us some take-out food because I couldn't cook, which was my original plan." He laughed awkwardly at the thought of it. His original plan was to take you to his place and cook for you but with the recent news of his "relationship", he couldn't do any of the things you used to. Taking you out on cute dates in the day when he could hide, or taking you to his place or going to yours. Everything was so much harder now.

"Hey, this is perfect. This is all I could want." You promised him as you sat down on the blanket and got ready to eat some of the food that he had bought with him.

The night had been perfect in every sense of the word. Jungkook had spent the entire night holding you, after you finished eating you both just laid down on the blankets together. Enjoying the time alone you had with one another for the first time in a long time.

"There's one thing I can't wait to do," You admitted to him as you rolled over and placed your chin on his chest just staring into his eyes,

"What's that?" He hummed as he began to run his fingers up and down your back slowly, staring back into your eyes.

"Fall asleep with your arms wrapped around me-" The sentence was interrupted when you heard your boss's shriek fill the air instantly ruining the moment within seconds.

"And it's gone," You mumbled sitting up and wrapping your own arms around your body and rubbed your skin as though you were cold. Guilt swamped Jungkook as he looked at you and then to Miss Ko who was squeezing herself down onto the blanket.

"I'm bored, you said this would be a good trip but there's nothing here for me to do!" She cried out, picking up some of the cake Jungkook had brought and began eating it without being offered any.

"Move over, the sand is ruining my dress." She hissed at you making you move, she was still your boss at the end of the day and you couldn't be mad at her for ordering you around.

"Miss Ko, we're having a date." Jungkook tried to tell her but she just ignored him, picking up some frosting on her finger and holding up to his lips.

"You should eat this, it's lovely. Have you tried some Y/n?" You hummed in answer to her turning to look at Jungkook with some help on making her leave but Jungkook just smiled at Miss Ko.

"Jungkook...I'm getting tired, maybe we should go back to your room?" You questioned with a smile on your lips but it was quickly removed when Miss Ko told you that she and Jungkook were in the room next to one another with a conjoining door to their rooms.

"Jungkook. We have that meeting tomorrow with Sejin remember, we have to go and pick out rings." You frowned at her and then looked at Jungkook who was avoiding your gaze.

"Rings?" You asked, turning to your boss who nodded at you happily.

"Engagement rings!" The world seemed to stop for you a second time as you stared at Jungkook waiting for him to tell you that she was lying. It was all some fever dream you were experiencing or Miss Ko was just trying to wind you up but he stayed quiet.

"We're going to announce our engagement next week-" You stood up making her stop talking and walked away from Jungkook and her on the beach. Not wanting to sit there any longer than you had to. He had promised you it would just be a few months, nothing longer than four was what he told you and yet here you were six months later and it seemed to only be extending more and more.

Later in the night, you figured you were probably overreacting to everything. Jungkook had been trying to call you since you left the beach but you ignored him. Sending him to voicemail while you showered and tried to sleep for the night but it was proving to be difficult. You were having a losing battle with your head and wanted to at least talk to Jungkook about it. Talk it through with him and confirm that their relationship was all still for sure like he told you it was.

You were opening his door with the key he'd given you earlier that day, he wanted you to have it so you could stop by and see him whenever you wanted.

"Jungkook I know I shouldn't have stormed off earlier. I was just mad when-" Sitting on the bed with Jungkook was a half-dressed Miss Ko, in nothing but an unbuttoned dress shirt and her makeup smeared across her face. Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at them, sitting so close together it looked as though they'd just gotten out of a make-out session.

"Y/n it isn't what it looks like!" Jungkook jumped off the bed but you were already crying as you stared at them. The tears you had been holding in for the last six months finally flowing free as you stared at them both. Your breaking point had been passed and it felt as though your heart was being ripped out of your chest.

"I quit. I'll be on the next flight home, Miss Ko. Jungkook I'll make sure all of your things are ready for you to pick up at my place." You didn't give him a chance to explain himself or chase after you as you walked out of the room. Leaving Jungkook yelling out your name as you burst into sobs, slamming your hotel door and whimpering into your hands.

The airport was empty thanks to it almost being 3 am which meant you were free to tear up and cry into your hands as much as you wanted without getting too many weird looks. You'd grabbed the cheapest flight possible home and booked it right away, heading to the airport so you couldn't bump into Jungkook.

"Babe!" His voice cried out as he rushed up behind you in the waiting area of the airport, you ignored him. Keeping your eyes forward as though you didn't know him but that wasn't going to stop him. He sat down beside you and waited for you to look at him.

"Y/n please, she was trying to kiss me but I pushed her off me," You rolled your eyes at him, scoffing at him as he tried to talk his way out of this.

"Her shirt was open-"

"She walked into my room like that! You know what she's like! She's a fucking bitch," He cut you off as he began to let tears roll down his face. Your flight number was called over the speaker and you got up from the seat, ignoring Jungkook as he raced after you.

"Please Y/n, you know I would never do something like that to you," You shook your head as you listened to him.

"I used to think that, now I'm not so sure...Were you even going to tell me about the fake engagement?" He nodded his head but you just let your tears flow down your cheeks and tried to walk away from him but he stood in front of you to stop you from moving.

"You're making a scene. People will see us together-"

"Let them! I will scream it from the rooftops that you're the one I love and not Miss Ko Moon-Young!" Your hand on your bag dropped and you cover his mouth but he stopped you as he stepped away.

"I, JEON JUNGKOOK AM HOPELESSLY IN LOVE WITH Y/N Y/L/N!" He screamed out loudly gaining the attention of some stewardesses and some passengers that were all turning to look at you both now.

"Jungkook. Your contract-"

"I'll rip it up if it means I lose you I don't care! I need you in my life Y/n please," He pleaded with you, gripping onto you as he pulled you into his arms, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you close to his body.

"You're all I want. I didn't kiss her, she tried to kiss me and she unbuttoned her clothes." You stared into his eyes and you smiled weakly, he had always been a terrible liar which was how you knew this was the truth.

"I'll tell Sejin I want no part in it, that I want our relationship to come out. You're the only one I care about," He promised before bringing you into a passionate kiss in the middle of the airport.

"Come back with me, we can spend all our time in your room." He said to you as he kisses your lips again, looking into your eyes and smiling weakly.

"You'll be in trouble," You tried to tell him but he shook his head,

"I don't care, I have you and that's all I care about," He whispered as he took your hand in his and began leading you out of the airport and towards the taxi that was waiting for you both to get inside of.

The very public relationship between Miss Ko and Jungkook was cut short as soon as Jungkook told his manager that he was no longer interested in doing the contract anymore. You still quit your job with Miss Ko not wanting to work for her anymore, you weren't interested in working for someone who was willing to ruin your relationship with someone you loved.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @rjsmochii @bisexualmess007 @innersooya @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block

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jean-does-not-have-a-horseface · 3 years

Text

Only Time Makes It Human

Hi, hello I was so excited to write this story you don't understand! I hope you all like it, I'm open to suggestions for part two or even part three hehe, I just like this concept a lot, lol i even made a Spotify playlist to listen to while writing. And I dont do that very often.

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Summary: he shouldn't have let Hange drag him to that frat party with Petra as his date, not when she knew you'd be there with someone else.

Tags: college au!, Angst, eventual fluff, slightly nsfw

Warnings: mentions of smoking, cheating, drinking and of you squint hard enough there's some nsfw, literally it's a frat party, you know how college students are

Disclaimer: drink responsibility if you are of drinking age, don't smoke, absolutely don't drive while being drunk, also I don't own the characters, but you already know that.

The deafening sound of pop music abused Levi's ears to the point his head was pulsing. His drink, a ratty cheep lager that was disturbingly common in such parties, stood in a red plastic cup in his hand, not even halfway drank. It was the watery taste he despised; when he wasn't much of an alcohol drinker, he was adamant about bitter tastes in beverages, a preference he hadn't managed to fight in his whole life time.

He shot an ominous glance at Hange and Petra. Stood right in front him, swaying their hips and smiling at each other as they shipped from their makeshift cocktails, they were more than surprised whatever they had dumped on their cups was consumable.

Petra in particular, beamed everytime she looked his way, auburn locks of her grazing the sides of her kind face as she swayed closer to him. The way his eyes never landed on her until it was necessary guilted him more than he wanted to admit. Mainly because Hange had set them up, and also because he shouldn't have been frying his brain with thoughts of someone else when he was with her.

But sometimes he couldn't help himself.

In an attempt to shut his brain down from making generously misery thoughts, he locked his hand around Petra's waist, sipping ever so slightly off his beer in the meantime. He didn't miss the way she lowered her head to smile, the sheer maroon tint on her cheeks. She fidgeted her fingers around her drink, shooting happy stares to Hange, Erwin and Mike as she went to rest get head on Levis shoulder.

Hange softly smiled back, curling her lips on an upward curve then brushing of three long to stare at the couple with ogling eyes. She focused on the conversation Mike and Erwin were having, as if it was something important enough to get lost into.

"I'm just wondering where Nanaba is, she said I'd find her here." Mike spoke with a puzzled voice, bobbing his head around to scout for the familiar blotch of short blonde hair that acostumed the face of his long term lover.

"Ah, she's with (y/n), silly. They're probably somewhere around if you want to say hi." Hange beamed.

Levi's eyes went wide and his hands numb at the sound of your name; he couldn't believe the plastic cup hadn't slipped off his palm. It had been so long since Hange had mentioned you so casually in a shared conversation, at least before him that is. It was more than natural to assume his friends hadn't cut ties with you, in contrast to his previous belief.

It was unlikely they were working against him on this situation, but his mind couldn't stop from running in possible imageries between them and you. Were they going to that cafe near campus with you when he denied their invitation? Did they spent some nights at your new place, drinking and driving you on watching horror parodies, when you despised it?

He shook his head trying to brush bubbling thoughts of you away from his mind. With a quick look at Petra, he decided to gulp down the warmed up lager, in hopes of finding relief in a stronger refill.

He despised the way beer didn't spritz on his tongue in it's warm state, but he refused to cringe at the aftertaste. Meanwhile, on his left, Petra enthusiastically bobbed her weight between her legs at the sound of another well known song. He didn't bother to comply to her moves, his eyes averted bitterly to the emptiness of his cup, yet he couldn't eagerly decide to step out of the comfort of his position.

Strolling around meant that he could come across you and he wasn't sure whether he wanted that or not.

Yet, Hange was adamant about dragging him, through the crowd to the kitchen counter, seeing his need for a refill as an excuse to get a new drink to mix to her cocktail.

Familiar faces fleet the kitchen, strolling around with numerous cups in their hands, heading to all directions. Levi pinched his nose in annoyance; the stench of sweat and smoke numbed his nostrils making him snicker, disgust masking the look on his face.

Setting his goal as to find a closed bottle of whiskey, his hands managed to work fast to their task. Upon discovering a single bottle that was still intact he twist the cap open, skillfully bringing the rim of his cap underneath the bottle's opening. Copper liquid poured in gushes in the red plastic, filling it to its maximum capacity.

The bigger the drink, the more chances he had to get a little drunk, maybe forget about you in the process.

"Are you thinking about her, shorty?"

Hange's voice rang in his blank head for several seconds fighting to elicit an answer out of him. He fought back, merely for a moment. If he knew Hange she would have kept pressuring him to answer her question on front of every one else for the rest of the night. He was trying to fix his mood with at least some alcohol, so he wouldn't let Hange ruin it.

He hesitated to speak loud enough for his voice to reach her eardrums. Admitting to his pain made it real, and he hated still being sentimental when it came to you. At least Hange would keep her mouth shut if she got her rightful answer.

"Well I do, I suppose." He muttered below his breath, gray eyes never averting to her direction.

Hange curious expression immediately transformed into one of pure mischievous excitement that, he had to admit, was pretty unsettling. He knew that look on his friend's face, he couldn't fight it even if he wanted to so naturally he wished he had bit back on his answer. Nevertheless, what was done was done.

"It sucks doesn't it?" Hange spoke, pointer finger stretching to fox her glasses.

"It makes me feel lonely."

"Well don't make your self suffer, shorty." Hange's eyes softened as she threw a playful punch on his bicept, her drink long forgotten on the counter. "You could try to be friends with her."

"It's not that I want to suffer, it keeps me going sometimes. And no, I don't want to."

With squinted eyes and a disappointed gaze Hange shook her head at him and grabbed her drink from the wooden counter. Her mouth formed in a disapproving smirk causing her cheeks to squint and scrunch in an almost too comical manner. Levi knew he should have paid, absolutely, no mind on stressing over it; whether she was right or wrong she wasn't in a place to judge him for any of his choices, especially on the ones on his romantic life. And even more executionally, on ones she had helped him make by setting him up with Petra.

Not that he had anything against Petra.

He actually enjoyed her company. The cute little remarks she'd make for him, the way she cared for anything he did or the way her eyes would ogle at him as if he was a god. She could keep her space clean and she was kind to everyone in the sweetest manner. On top of that she had a girl next door type of beauty, auburn hair parted messily according to any occasion and round hazel eyes. All in all Hange had been right to point out she looked good on him.

Tonight, Petra was shining in her favorite pastel layers. A soft strawberry lilac turtleneck with flared sleeves as a base, topped with a powder blue strappy dress and finally completed with velvet baby pink Vans. Cute sparkly pins were accessorising her hair and numerous necklaces with moon and star charms shone on her neck. The effort she had put to perfect her aesthetic had indeed paid off; she looked like a fairy under the erratic lights of the party. She had achieved her initial goal to stand out from the occasional soft girls around the crowd, signifying she was Levi's girl.

With Levi's popularity amongst ladies, she had to be effortlessly perfect.

And she was, for as long as she was concerned.

Levi shot his eyes to his friends' direction, catching quickly glimpses of the way Petra danced with Hange. Erwin and Mike were nowhere to be found for now, as he assumed they would be searching for Nanaba.

He cringed at the chaotic arrangement of things; Nanaba had distanced her self from the group because she was your childhood friend so her relationship with Mike naturally came second to not forcing you into the same group as Levi. As if Levi wanted to be forced to be in the same group as you.

Fortunately, you had plenty of friends as to not to stick onto his group.

He was gulping a mouthful of his drink, copper whiskey watering down his dry throat as if he hasn't drunk anything in hours, when his eyes met yours in the crowd. His heart immediately skipped a long beat, chest heavying at the sight of your flushed face.

Maybe, on second thought, you hadn't actually noticed him.

You stood outside of the massive glass window proudly downing the shot in your hand after cheering on it with Eren. There was joy written on your makeup accessoried face; with your eyes squinted and your smile spread to your face asour hips moved according to the music engulfed in Eren's palms. Your hair swayed with each one of your movements, (h/c) locks landed messily on your face and shoulders mirroring Eren's to perfection. Levi couldn't help but notice how Eren's man bun was coming undone on the erratic movements his made.

As you slightly squated, attempting to perk your buttocks in the air for your partner to grab, your baggy jeans tightened their hug on your body in perfection. Levi remembered having seeing you in those baggy cargo jeans from afar on a few occasions, always thinking how good they looked on you, always admiring how you could always lull off your desired aesthetic effortlessly.

It was true that had he not seen you flawnting your effortless dark urban style, he would have thought that Petra had been the only girl who could show anyone how dressing aesthetically could be achieved. But you were something different. They way your breasts sat firmly at the bustier bits of your spaghetti strapped top, adorned by the corset like nature of the torso tube looked magnificent paired to your jeans. Your jet black Dr Marten's boots peaked from the flared finish of your jeans, giving the look a 90s grungy edge along with your all natural -be it for your dark maroon lip color.

Looking around, amongst numerous art majors like you he couldn't find someone who could mimick the way you pulled it off.

There fore, on a way he didn't blame Eren's hands as they traveled down your curves and touched tenderly at your torso. Even if the motion pulled any string in his heart that wasn't numbed by his alcoholic beverage.

He loathed you looked so good, and he loathed the way you danced to the loud tune as if no one was around.

With another big gulp on his whiskey, he felt the world slowing down around him.

As your eyes finally met -this time it wasn't just him imagining things- the tune changed, mocking him for gawking at you while taking your side against him. He noticed you mouth the lyrics to him, your head turned to his direction as his eyes struggled to rip away from your form.

Your moves on Eren became more intimate, more suggestive as you scratched the nape of his neck, bringing your mouth close to his ear to whisper words Levi couldn't have known of. Quickly, Eren pulled away with a pouty smile, displeased that he had to pull away from you. It was in that second that Levi's chest tightened dangerously, as Eren's lips brushed chastely on yours, noses bumping on eachother.

In an attempt to shook the image out of his head he turned on his heels, cup squeezed in hand and stomach growling in anxiety as he marched to his group of friends. Smiling faces welcomed him but he paid no mind in reciprocating the slightest glance. Levi wasn't exactly the type to bounce back immediately after having experienced his heart sinking in such horrid way.

Unsurprisingly for him -seeing that he was used to things only going downhill after a shitty event- Mike appeared out of the blue with Nanaba linked on him through their elbows. It wasn't in fact Nanaba that shattered any remain of his, already ruined, mood, but the person that clung into her palm.

More specifically, you.

"Heyy!!" Hange screamed, hands stretching towards your direction, already pulling you in her embrace once you reached her velocity. "I have missed you so much, where have you been these days!"

"Hange we went out for launch yesterday." You giggled through your squished cheek.

"Noo, that was ages ago I miss you everyday."

You shot a judgemental look at Erwin from Hange's back as she began to pull back from your embrace. The lisps and slips of her tongue were starting to become prominent as she poured words before you in an excessively fast paced manner, leaving you unable to come up with a way to respond to her, let alone understand what she had been saying.

Erwin scratched the back of his head an but his lip in response, shoulders rising up in an unbeknownst manner.

"You shouldn't let her drink that much. You know how she gets." You scolded, looking around the faces of your friends, trying your best not to let your faint voice get overlapped by the loud reggaeton beat.

Once again as Levi's eyes locked gazes with yours your breath hitched inside your chest.

His hand strode out to Petra's waist, pulling her closer almost too automatically for anyone not to notice. The commotion caught your eye, but you never flinched, much to your demise. Petra's hair swayed to the right as her smile widened from the sudden affectionate gesture, making you sick to the stomach from how soft and fragile and enchanting she had managed to look.

"Anyways I just came to say hi, I'll go find Eren now-"

Your words were cut short as your aforementioned significant other showed up bouncing in excitement beside you. Mirroring Levi's actions he pulled you close in a swift movement before ensuring he gave soft smiles to everyone. Hange excitedly greeted him back as Nanaba and Mike caught him up in casual conversation.

Levi watched as the brunette whipped his head whenever he flawnted on his achievements, causing Nanaba to shoot him awkward smiles and Mike to shrug him off in the process. You could see the despair in their faces as Eren egoistically carried on the conversation, but you tried to shrug it off for the moment as you conversed with Erwin.

Your mind wouldn't stop ordering your eyes to attach themselves into the picture perfect couple ahead of you, who paid no mind to your mere existence. In a way you blamed yourself for having caused this. Had you uttered a single hello to them you wouldn't have received such treatment. It served you right for knowingly intruding their space with the intention to make your presence known to Levi.

If you knew if the way Levi's eyes fell onto you everytime you looked away, you wouldn't have had yanked Eren's hand in an attempt to gain his attention.

"Ah sweetheart, I'm sorry, Yeagerbombs with your Yeager boy?" Eren blinked his emerald eyes into yours, pride splattered in his smile for his -cringeworthy to anyone else but himself- pun. You couldn't help but let out a nervous snicker of a laugh as he yanked you close to him again, pleading eyes landing into Levi's stormy gaze.

For you, the world seemed to stop in the moment as you took in his dimly lit face and delicate features. The music fell deaf to your ears as you gawked at him, hands trembling and tongue tied in words that you failed to recognize.

That mellow melancholy in his eyes, the adorning eyebags, the way some short coarse hairs on his face tried to mimick his neatly kept undercut, it all seemed unreal to you.

How long had it been since you had been so close to him? Nowadays it seemed the two of you had moved on to whatever. You had tried so much to avoid eachother that your timing never allowed the two of you to meet, not even for a the slightest, in hopes of forgetting about each others existence.

What downed you, though, from your precious pink cherry blossom rainfall bubble was that Petra was wrapped lovingly around him, her aesthetically pleasing image fitting conveniently with your little fairytale background, throwing you out of it.

By faintly excusing yourself from the group you let yourself lose on Eren's grip as he slipped you away from the crowd and towards the kitchen.

Levi didn't want to have to take a trip to the bathroom of a sorority house. In thought it seemed disgusting and unsanitary, but he had so much to drink that his body had been begging and screaming to him for some sort of relief.

He assumed the upstairs bathroom would be clean, supposing there weren't any horny young adults crushing their reproductive organs against eachother as there would normally be at any party of this nature.

With a steady knock that elicited no answer or even a simple grunt from the other side of the door he knew he was good to go. With a movement of his wrist the handle twisted and he slowly let himself in, eager to get through the process as fast as possible.

A few moments later and the fly of his distressed jeans was being zipped up again, tucked neatly under his black crewneck's bottom. He scrunched his sleeves up above his elbows and run his hand under the sink, waiting for the water to warm up.

His face looked tainted in the mirror; puffy eyebags and a deadpan expression while his lips stayed chapped. In an attempt to look presentable he run his now excessively washed hands through his front bangs tagging slightly to form a little volume at the roots.

He hadn't expected to swoon so easily at the sight of you being playfully entangled with Eren. He hadn't expected his heart to sink at the sight of you being explicitly affectionate with anyone before him and he wondered if it was simply due to the fact that he hadn't been accostumed to it. He certainly hadn't expected of Eren to step in and swoop you away before his very eyes; the pain of seeing you next to a friend of his seemed even more devastating for a few seconds.

Nevertheless, the little shit had always had an eye on you, even if he liked to consider himself as a protegee if his.

Levi wondered if you had felt that loathing feeling as well. Petra hadn't been that private about their relationship, with her constant posts on Instagram, her continuous snaps of him on a daily basis. Whereas he hadn't seen you post many things in the course of eight months.

He had brushed off the idea of scrolling through your socials a numerous times before finally agreeing on linking with Petra. Secretly he'd search for your shared photos, hoping they'd appear out of nowhere on your profile. Secretly he'd stare at his archived posts, contemplating on whether he should keep photos of a better time protected or whether he should delete them.

Now with his back against the sink to prevent himself from catching his reflection judging him, he unlocked his phone and tapped the familiar fuchsia icon. As expected, Eren's profile icon flashed in a pink and orange ombre circle before all others, signaling he had posted a story. Not supressing his pulled heartstrings who were set to call the shots tonight, Levi tapped on the icon with such force that a loud tapping sound filled his ears.

The video loaded painfully slow, his data connection giving in to the thick bathroom walls. Eren's face flashed on his screen, sheepish smile adorning his features."There's no hope for us!" He spoked in blurred pronounciation. "Even the anti smoker is smoking!" In a quick sequence the camera angle shifted on you, apathetically taking a drag out of a freshly rolled cigarette while cussing him out in a stern tone.

Silently he scrunched his nose and clicked his tongue in annoyance. Surely you still hadn't learnt from past mistakes. In seldom occasions you'd smoke while mixing your drinks, nothing unusual for people at your age; although Levi knew better than to do it consciously, you sometimes did. He had been strick and unforgiving on you, snapping out on you the following day for not taking good care of yourself. Clearly his short temper had only pushed you to riot now that you were away from him.

When the door shot open, causing him to jump and nearly let his phone slip away from his grip, he couldn't bring himself to realise for how long he'd been sitting in the bathroom, replaying Eren's story.

His eyes quickly recognised you as you shot your arms to pull your hair away from your face. He had seen you from every possible angle, a feeling that once upon a time had made him feel sick and trapped, pushing him to make stressed decisions. Every little detail of yours was curved in the back of his brain, awaiting for moments like this to unleash. It was easy like that to recognize you for miles ago.

As much as he'd like to, he didn't make a move towards you, afraid that maybe if you saw him out of all people in this state you'd jump in fear.

Nonetheless he couldn't help the silent inquiry concerning your condition not slip off his mouth. "You alright there?"

"I'm fine." You gulped, supressing the urge to spill your stomach's insides before the person behind you. "It's just- my ex is here and I- I guess I got stressed and I smoked and I drunk too much and ugh-" you cringed at the way you overshared your personal matters with a stranger, although you momentarily found comfort in the action. No one could judge you if they didn't know you, right?

"You don't say!"

Of course luck wouldn't be on your side. Ever since you laid your eyes on him a few hours ago you knew it in your heart this night would fall in crumbles, but did it really have to be this way?

You jumped, startled at the sight of Levi's familiar face, ignoring the way your heart fell as hard as a rock in your stomach, ignoring the vertigo like feeling to numb the poor organ. Puke hitched in your throat and you ripped your eyes away from his form in a panicked state. Your stomach emptied in the porcelain toilet, leaving atrocious sounds as it burned and scratched on your throat. You feel your whole body go weak with every shot of your stomach. Your hands couldn't keep their grasp on your hair; they quickly fell near your legs.

Levi crouched to your side in a heartbeat, his quick instincts getting the best of him as he grabbed your hair tenderly in order to keep it away from your face.

"Fuck, just how much did you even drink?" He whispered, hand reluctantly reaching to soothe down your back.

"You should know." You barked. "You were staring. How dare you?"

He had grown accustomised to quite make out your mutters by assuming what you were feeling in the moment. Athough, as your excessive vomiting came to an alt, you yanked your hair angrily out of his hands, refusing to associate yourself with him anymore.

As you meticulously washed your hands and mouth you noticed his stretched hand shielded the way to the door, blocking you from exiting. Your dizzy state didn't allow you to be feisty as you fixated your interest in swooning over the way his arms looked with his sleeves rolled up. You took a mental note to scold yourself for that very fact once you were sober enough.

"I have to go to my friends, thanks for helping me."

"You're not going anywhere." You noticed his breath hitched as he spoke. Was he equally as drunk? Wasn't he supposed to handle his alcohol like he had always said? Just how much had he had to drink? "You're not going anywhere until you tell me why you drunk so much."

Your silent thoughts geared up inside your brain, ready to skyrocket out of your mouth the moment you opened it to speak. "It's because you're here and you're with her and seeing the two of you in action is only making it real!"

Levi erratically blinked at your word vomiting. He hadn't expected you to just spill out those words without a notice it a warning, hell, even a little warm up would be nice to help him form a preserved reaction without becoming a drunk stuttering mess.

Without warning your hands wrapped around him, chests pressed against each other in the firmest way possible, sending shivers down his newly sweating spine. Normally, he'd say he hated the way you nuzzled against the crook of his neck, wiggling your nose through his crewneck sweater to coo into his warmth. Normally, he'd pinch himself and wake up and you would disappear, never to been seen laying beside him in such manner again.

Normally his blood wouldn't pump profoundly in his veins in excitement and lust as your touch and your smell.

As the sweet aroma of vanilla and pergamont englulfed his nostrils his arms loosened around him before jumping to the sides of your face, yanking it away from his neck. His next move was crucial; thumbs tenderly stroked on your cheeks as his stormy eyes looked silently into yours. He could only listen to his heartbeat as he crushed his mouth against yours in a feverous manner.

His body pushed against yours in need to pull you into the kiss as you responded with equal effort to your passion. Fortunately for him you had spent minutes trying meticulous wash out any smell or taste away from your mouth with some oral hygiene products you had happened to come across in the cupboards. The fact that he was drunk didn't mean he was inconsiderate of his need for everything to be clean.

All in all, be wasn't sure how the two of you ended up in the backseat of his car, topless with your tongues genuinely battling for dominance.

He must have been in a haze as he pushed past and out of the crowd, erratically trying to remember the general direction in which his car was parked.

As his hands gripped everywhere he could find his eyes didn't dare to shoot open. Existing in this moment, dry humping to your hips from underneath you. Tiny bumps adorned your skin every time he touched you. The freezing air of December had finally brushed its effect on both of you, soft shivers shook your whole form and he couldn't help but notice.

He couldn't think straight, despite wanting to though.

Your lips launched in the soft spot on his neck in an effortless manner. To him it was obvious you hadn't forgotten his own anatomy; all the places that you touched teased him perfectly to submission making him sink into the black industrial seat.

Your hands passionately grabbed the back of his hair, elbows colliding with the skin just under his collarbone.

"I've missed this, I've longed for this."

Your words, whether they were intentional or not, slit through his chest and set fire to the wound, causing another wave of stressful passion to spread from his stomach to his whole body. Chaste kisses were places all over his face, underneath his bangs, on his eyes, even the tenders corners of his jaw.

Your noses crashed, your breaths mingling in the air as your lips found his again.

You moved your lips in perfect synch, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle that were fabricated to fit perfectly on eachother. It hurt you that your bodies were working against your sober wills. You made another note to punish yourself for that as well once you were in your right mind.

His hands wrapped tighter around your back, crashing you impossibly closer next to him. Your chest fought to rise and fall as squirms escaped you, engulfed into his mouth.

"We shouldn't do this here, I'm not up to voyeuring anyone." He remarked, but fell silent as you placed another brushing kiss on his lips before pulling back to slightly nod in agreement.

Before you knew it you were wrapped in his jacket, your top long forgotten in an unseen corner of his car. His own charcoal black crewneck shielded his body from your sight as he hit the pedals of his car almost too closely to the allowed speed limit.

Long forgotten were his friends and date to the first party, long forgotten were any attempts to find excuses for whatever had ignited what was happening.

The trip to his apartment was quicker than what you had expected; maybe it was for the alcohol in your system that left you in a constant vertigo, but your head wasn't getting any better. The warm golden Christmas city lights adorned every single aspect of the streets and captivated your eyes spreading their heat into your whole form. With Christmas around the corner the current situation felt even more alluring to indulge into.

Christmas always meant Levi, in a way.

You swore you only blinked for a second once you entered the apartment building front door but when you opened your eyes you were before his door.

As always, it read 25B.

In a flash you were underneath him in his bed, hair sprawled everywhere around you as his lips angrily assaulted your collarbones. You didn't trust your drunk antics to tell you if the night was still young, but you assumed it could still labor a few more hours of the greediness between two long lost lovers.

"I" he started acting kissed on your lips as his hands came to mingle with the button of your jeans. "Want you to know." Another kiss was placed on your lips. "That" another "I-"

This time you cut him off with your swollen lips on his, sucking all air out of his lungs. "Just kiss me and we'll talk about this afterwards."

Your eyes throbbed as light entered their cavities, reflecting on your irises despite your best wishes. You had only just shot out a hand to shield them from the warm rays of sun when panic stabbed through your chest like a murderous intruder.

They blueyish grey tink to the walls and the futuristic design of the drawers and nightstands were all too familiar to you. They stood there, mocking you on all their dark chocolaty color for being unable to come up with an immediate answer to your whereabouts.

Your head was being occasionally jolted in throbbing hot pain as you decided to look around you in the matress, in hopes of recognising the person to whom the newly sounding grunts belonged to.

To your utter shock and disbelief, Levi shot up from his position on the bed. You watched as his eyes widened at the sight of you, grey orbs slightly shrinking in shock and realisation.

"What did you-" he began but soon his hand shot up to his own throbbing head. "Shit just how much did we have to drink?"

"Okay I have a better question," you added to your shared misery "are you as naked as I am?"

It was on rare occasions that you had seen such irrational panic mask Levi's face, yet this time must have been the most striking one amongst the ones you could recall. His skin had lost at least two shades of color, his lips parted slightly. His forehead was cringled as his eyebrows were skyrocketing away from his eyes.

Although when he opened his mouth in an attempt to confirm the obvious, he was quickly cut off by the sound of his doorbell being rung, along with three stern knocks on his door. Even his phone started ringing from beside him, adding pressure to his momentarily frozen state. He picked the divice in his hands, fingers shakingly making their way to the acceptance button.

"Hey Petra!"

"Hey love!" You heard the cheerful voice fill the air through his speaker. Petra had a really loud voice, you noticed, it was either that or that your head was about to explode from the hangover. "I'm outside, please open up, you left without even saying goodbye and wouldn't pick up your phone. I'm so worried."

"Tch, give me a second I'll get changes and we can have breakfast at that cafe you like." Levi grunted, his thumb reaching to rub soothing circles on the prominent vein in his forehead.

"Can I come inside?"

Shit.

"Yeah yeah." He spoke as he hit the closing button, his phone being slammed against the bed. His head turned to you, only to reveal a section of his throat that was bruised in lovemarks you had left on him. "Hide, stay silent, I don't know which one, just do it."

After his harsh order, his eyes never had a chance to reach yours as he got up from the bed to sprint to his dresser, hurriedly searching for the only washed black turtleneck he owned. He hadn't even had a chance to look himself in the mirror, but knowing you, you couldn't have held back from munching on the skin in his throat.

Upon his quick discovery, he threw on a pair of gray of sweats that he recover from the hanger behind his door.

You didn't dare speak, hell you didn't even dare move, the fear of being discovered in such pretentious position -as the third person- in a house you once had lived in overtook your natural senses and your irrational thinking. Your heart didn't cease to sink as moments later you heard the door click open, then immediately close.

The familiar buzzing sound of silence filled your ears a few moments later. This time realisation kicked in immediately in hopes of drowning your mind in excessive amounts of overthinking. That's how it was then?

Your head plopped down the pillows, sinking deeper and deeper with each passing second. Your heart skipped essential beats and your breathing hitched in your throat. Only one question stood on top of others.

What had you done?

Tags because yay: @sasageyowrites @levisbrat25 and @ackermans-freedom-inc because I know they were excited for this story and the new addition to my taglist (??) @alrightberries 👉🏻❤️👈🏻

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi #levi snk #levi aot #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman imagine #levi shingeki no kyojin #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi imagine #aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk x reader #aot x reader

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dinthehottotty · 3 years

Text

A Thing About Silver (Part 1)

Din Djarin x Reader x Cobb Vanth

Reader is really horny and Mando refuses to give into her prompts. She takes comfort from Cobb before returning to Din.

Warnings: Smut, cream pies, jealous!Mando, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex, mentions of masturbation, dirty talk, degradation, rough sex. Minor psychological break, this turned out more fucked up than intended. Angst. Rejection.

...

You'd felt the sexual frustration for months now. And not just a couple. It was going on nine months. Nine! And stuffing your fingers up inside you in the dark of your bunk before Mando came into the room was far from satisfactory. The desperate and quick orgasms were becoming even less powerful, making you chase multiples only to find a lack luster completion. And recently you'd even resorted to when he was there. You'd listen for his quiet breathing and pray to all the gods that he was long since passed out.

It felt like your cunt hadn't stopped aching for months. The whole time you'd thrown flirty comments at Mando. At first he ignored them. But the things you said went from cute little flirts to filthy fucking language. Especially when he joined in, throwing random comments in it. You shiver every time you think of him saying ‘Now is not the time to stare at me so you can think of me in your bunk later.” You’d given him a naughty grin as he told you to hand him a tool on your other side while he worked on a panel inside the ship. His quips were getting better.

There was something about being in that little bo-dunk strip in the dessert that reminded you just how thirsty you were. What you wouldn't give to gulp down (not even his at this point) some thick cock.

Ugh. Even the thought made you internally cringe.

You were getting desperate.

And then the Marshall walked in.

Your heart stuttered automatically in your chest. Hard. Dirty thoughts of getting railed by not one, but two Mandalorians had your brain short circuiting. Oh, filth oozed from you.

And then he removed his helmet and you speed ran the five stages of grief. Just as acceptance rolled in, Mando demanded he 'take it off or that he would.' It was low and threatening and made you nearly lose your mind even thought his intent was murder and not some western style three-way. Nonetheless, it would steamroll your dreams nightly.

You didn't expect Vanth to charm you the way he had. You suppose it was his silver hair and pearly grin at work with your dry spell because normally you had a thing for mocha skin and soulful brown eyes.

Now, the deep ache had reached not just between your legs but deep in your belly. There was a monster hooked in your cervix and you needed something to beat it to death in there. Fuck were you getting desperate.

Almost an entire week of Vanth flirting with you and Mando barely acknowledging it. Like it didn't matter. Oh, did that make you boil. And here, celebrating back in the town for killing that godforsaken sand dragon, you were about to spill over. Especially when Vanth smirks at you from across the bar, a lift to one of his brows, questioning your next move.

You hadn't given him an inch on the mission. Not a smile or a blush. Just kept your mouth shut and glanced to Mando who'd plainly ignore it.

You didn't know if he didn't see Vanth as competition or if he just didn't care. You reach back for your drink on the bar, ready to throw one back in attempt to burn our the flames between your legs. A flash of silver catches your eye.

Glancing over, you see Mando striding over from the door.

"Room is ready. Go get some sleep. We leave early." He orders.

With liquid courage in your system, you glare at him and turn back to your drink. You motion for the bar keep to refill you. "Are you going to be joining me? Or are you going to leave me high and dry again?" You manage out the growl.

He stares at you in silence and you face him, giving a question lift to your eyebrows, a lack of anything other than blatant distaste in your features.

"You're drunk." He decides.

"Getting there." You snap and take a slow sip of your drink, eyeing the tinted visor on his face.

He watches as you twist your body toward Vanth again and lean against the bar. He's calmly watching the exchange between you both from across the loud room.

"Tell you what, you give me one good dance to the next song and I'll go back to the room with you right now." He doesn't budge.

"No," is his only answer. You shake your head and scoff.

"Fine," you reply.

"I'll leave you here if you're not up tomorrow at sunrise." He threatens. Honestly you're more surprised he's not mushing you back toward the ship as you speak.

"If you don't stop me, I'm going to dance with Vanth." He's quite once more. You allow your head to lazily loll back towards the Mandalorian. He's stiff as a board and so quiet you decide to continue with your liquid courage. "Tell me 'no' and I won't fuck him. Tell me you'll take me back to the room and bruise my cervix right now and I won't go seek him out to do it instead." Mando turns to look toward Vanth now. You see his fists tighten, the leather stretching tight across his knuckles.

"Say no," you prompt again. The air is filling with the bustle of the space around you but it stills between the three of you, like lightning about to hit. You straighten to your full height and step close, hovering within inches of his space. You lower your voice to honeyed whisper. "Take me back to the room, Din." His head twitches your way, but barely. "Use me like a whore. I just need to feel something. Something other than my own damn hands or my fucking pillow, please just say no." Give me hope.

He remains silent and watches Vanth. His body is turned towards you, but his head is directed at the Marshall. You wish you could get a read on him but for the life of you, you can't. He just remains silent.

Finger tips brush your arm, bare ones. You hadn't realized Vanth had slid across the small bar to your side. "Hey, sweetheart," he purrs down into your ear. You glance over at him. "You've got such a tense face, come dance with me, break loose of Mando." He urges with a wink and a grin.

He was hesitant to flirt with you at first, but the more he did it and the lack of either parties protest leave him gaining confidence. You and Mando were dancing around each other, gaging the reaction of the other. He never stepped in between. Even now you were watching him. He just remained silent and stared at Vanth. You wish you could read his mind, understand what the fuck is running through it.

After a long still moment you twist toward Vanth. "Are you going to be able to keep up, old man?" You reply. Surprise and excitement flash across his face as Mando's head now swivels at you.

"I help you take down a sand dragon and you think I can't handle a dance?" His hand returns to your arm. Hard finger tips trace feather-light down the sensitive underside of your arm and ghost over your wrist. Your heart stutters in your chest when he firmly intertwines your fingers and gives a gentle tug.

Still, the suit of armor doesn't say a word as you're dragged away. A pain fills you chest. You throw your drink back and drop the glass onto a near by table you pass. A new song comes on, more up beat and you push Mando out of your head as much as you can. You don't need the painof rejection dampening your mood. Not when your so close to getting your legs lifted to your shoulders.

Vanth can dance, you soon realize. He's gracefully zipping you around to the beat and you're actually having fun within a minute of starting. It's a fantastic distraction. And so are his hands.

They start up high, the middle of your back, barely touching you, clasped with yours. And by the third song, when there's a heard of bodies also moving around you, he starts to wander. The hand holding yours falls to your hip, pulling you flush against him. Your eyes dart for a moment. Beskar watches you from the bar still, now sitting. Watching.

"So, before I continue trying to coax you away," the voice in your ear startles you as you both sway to a slower tempo, "am I going to be shot with a blaster by Mando?"

It cracks a smile on your face and you giggle at the thought. "Not what you want to hear, but I've been throwing myself at him for months and not a damn thing's happened," you reply.

"Too bad he took the armor," he replies. Your eyes widened at the thought he was proposing. You sink against his chest, staring up into his crystal blue eyes.

"That might stir up some psychological issues for me, Vanth," you say with a flirty giggle. He grins.

"Damn, you've got the most stunning smile," he murmurs and suddenly his hand is coming up to cup your face and tuck your hair behind your ear.

More than anything you want it to be Mando touching you like that, telling you he loves your smile. It makes you ache. You do the only logical thing you can think of.

You push it deep down, bottling it up with the rest of your emotions.

Closing your eyes, you sink your face against his hand, lifting a hand from his chest to cup it against your face. When you open your eyes you are startled to find Mando standing behind him and let out a squeak.

"What?" You snap sourly as Vanth twists.

Mando's hand is clenched tightly at his side. "It's on the north side of the village."

"It's two places down from me," Vanth offers with a sugar sweet grin. "I'll make sure see gets back." That... that is the reaction you wanted Mando to have when Vanth flirted. Instead, now your twisted in the latter's arms.

Mando looks at you again, then heaves a sigh and leaves.

You fight the urge to follow him. Instead, you continue to dance with Vanth, pushing your hips into his and building up that urge you've been wrestling with for months.

It's the feel of his mouth pressing down on your neck. That's all it takes for you to throw credits down on the bar and drag him out. The moment the cool night air hits you, he's pressing you up against the side of the building and tasting you. There's teeth and tongue. Arousal is burning you up.

Vanth has you both shuffling around the side of the bar and against the side of it before he's sliding a hand into your underwear and you breathe a gasp of relief. You want to sob at the feeling of him filling your cunt so easily with two fingers. His face crumbles in delight.

"Fuck, look how wet you are," he groans. "Come on, let's go back to mine. I'll eat you out, okay?" He coaxes while rolling his fingers in and out of your sopping pussy slowly. Like your not bracing against the wall and rocking desperately onto his fingers. Like you aren't gasping for the dry air as you would be if you had ran a marathon. He'd barely touched you and it felt so kriffing good that there was a heat burning through you like no other.

The feel of his hand where you so desperately need it and his blunt promise to make you cum has you clamping tightly on his fingers. You mewl out a quiet please, so desperate for this not to stop. Nothing had felt so good in so long. You always had to rush and his fingers were thicker than yours, could reach better.

Thankfully he's so mesmerized by your reaction he keeps up his good work. It's not even ten seconds before heat fills your belly and your hands snatch his forearm, holding it in place and leaning your forehead on his shoulder. "C-close," you manage to warn when the palm of his hand pressed down on your clit.

His eyebrows shoot up as his other hand tilts your head back to look at your face. "Already? You poor thing. You're wound up tighter than a-" he doesn't get to finish his thought because you're fisting hands in his shirt when he fingers you slower, but pushes harder up into your front wall. You give a broken cry, tucking your head into your chest and pushing back onto his hand as you completely come undone.

It's the best orgasm you've had in months, leaving Vanth grinning down on you with dark eyes. Your legs wobble beneath you. "Oh, you poor thing. Mando's been edging you for far too long." He breathes before ghosting his mouth over your neck. Your head rolled back exposes it and you whimper as he presses his fingers a few more times into the spongy sweet spot inside.

Its only when someone stumbles loudly from the entrance of the bar that he drags his fingers out, leaving you aching and unbearably empty.

He pulls you into his side, and if anyone saw they'd probably call you drunk. Your a ragdoll from coming off your orgasm. It was hard to focus your eyes as he supports you. The both of you give soft chuckles in response.

"My place?" He prompts.

"Aye, Marshall." He steadies you before the two of you meander the short distance of the street. There aren't many buildings. Its more of a village than a town. No matter where you stood in it, you could see the edges. When you step up onto the front porch you turn to glance around, a flash of silver making itself known.

Silver? Mando. Two buildings down, the last one on this stretch, across the street sat the Mandalorian. The light glowed from the open door behind him, warm and inviting.

I wanna go home, the intrusive thought rang in your head. A pitifully small voice urging you to head down to the porch steps that Din perched, cleaning his rifle, on.

The post orgasm clarity was hitting you. You felt sleepy. Exhausted. You could head in, lay down beside the child and drift to sleep until your partner woke you and dragged you to the next planet. Sleep off the alcohol.

Din glances up, pausing and staring right at you. You step his way, hesitating at the end of Vanth's porch. The man behind you opened his door and turn toward you. But you were too caught up in Mando's reaction. He watched you.

Just tell me 'no', Din. You internally begged. If he'd so much as gestured you back to him you would leap from the porch and race back to him. Instead he went back to polishing the barrel.

Spite fills you and you turn toward Vanth. He gives you a gentle questioning gaze before gesturing you into the dark. You step through, feeling the heat of your anger rising again.

"Are you sure, sweetheart?" Is the words he speaks when the door closes. "Don't think I'm above sleeping with a woman so she can get her revenge. You can use me however your heart desires." He says, flipping the light on.

"Leave the light off and kiss me. Roughly. I'm angry." You admit. He raises a single brow before brushing his fingers over the light on the wall and turning it back off.

"Rough?" He rasps, striding forward to cup your face. "Can I cum in you?"

The question short circuits your brain, negating any anger or reason for your anger at the request. "Oh, fuck. Please?" You squeak and he grasps your face in his hands, bruising your lips with his. His mouth tastes like spotchka and his teeth are eager to bite.

He kisses over your jaw as his hands drop to drag your body back against his. He's an effective amnesia to your poor broken heart. His hands feel good as they tug at clothing. You don't quite register doing the same. Not when his teeth are nipping at your neck and speeding up your heart rate.

Dank ferrik, it felt good to grind your stimulated groin over his with less fabric in the way. You both gasp into the night.

You push away the guilt that nubbed up in your mind. No. He rejected you. Din rejected every advance. You had no reason to feel guilt.

Still it lingers in the corner. Watching through a tinted visor and looming.

Cobb tilts you back onto the bed, groaning deeply into your shoulder. "Do you want to cum again, first?"

"N-no, just, just put it in," you groan. "Just wanna feel full." It earns you a shaky groan of approval.

Without warning he grips your hips and flips you onto your stomach. A sharp smack lands on your ass, letting you moan softly. He sits upright, lining up with you in the dark.

You whimper when you feel his cock rub once over you before he's aligned. Then he sinks in and that delicious stretch has you gasping as he slides home. There is a drawn moment where you both soak up that initial cure of need. Then he sets a fast pace, drilling deeply.

A hand closes on the back of your neck, tightening.

"Are you enjoying this?" Din's modulated voice asks in your ear, mockingly. He's not actually there of course, only serving to piss you off more. Because you know how much better it'd feel if it was him splitting your ass in two.

You brace against the bed. Pushing back harder and moaning. It makes the hand twist around your throat and jerk you back against Cobb. The change in position makes you whimper. You reach back for hair, guiding his mouth to yours.

Cobb seems to understand that the roughness is urging him to kick up his own. His hand on you hip snatches one of your breasts to squeeze. You break away to whimper and catch more silver.

"Do you think I'll be here every time you fuck someone now?" The Din-Delusion taunts as he lounges on the pillows comfortably. You were definitely going to have a psychological break after this one night stand.

He's so annoying that even the delicious grunts that rise from your new lover is hard to focus on.

"Harder." You rasp. You're tossed to the bed as Vanth crawls across you.

"You can call his name if it makes you feel better," he rumbles as he sinks back into your cervix with a hard thrust. His fingers dig into your thighs.

"Call it out," Not-Din chuckles. "Cry my name loud enough I can hear it across the street. Maybe that'll spur me on." It's dripping with so much sarcasm as your head nearly knocks into his leg that isn't actually there.

"No," you snarl at the figment of your guilty conscience. You sink your teeth into his shoulder and cry out when his hips canter harder into you. You claw at his back, earning happy groans and him twitching inside you.

"Yeah, probably a better idea. If you call put my name I might think your in trouble and shoot the bastard."

"I'm gonna fuck you a-again. Cl-close."

"Cum in me, Vanth!" you cry louder than intended. His hand tangles roughly in your hair, exposing your throat to new assault. Fuck, you'll ache tomorrow, you hope.

"That's it, baby girl," Not-Din coos. "Louder, maybe that'll make me respect you enough to see you as more than just a kid. Maybe I'll see you in sexual manner."

Vanth's hips stutter as he spills inside of you. He pants against your neck for a moment and then draws back to flash you with a dazzling smile, even in the dark. "It'll take me a minute to recharge. Can I go down on you?"

It makes you blink in surprise, even Not-Din tilts his helmet with curiosity at the sweaty man on top of you.

"You... you just came in me though..." you protest weakly.

"So, it's mine." He drops down to snatch a nipple into his mouth, delighted.

You give a moan. "Ye-yeah, knock yourself out, Vanth." He drags you to the edge of the bed to throw your legs over his shoulders. It feels so lewd to have him lapping so hungerly at you while his own cum spilled out of you.

"Filthy girl, aren't you?" Din growls out, moving around behind Vanth to watch casually. Why did that turn you on? Having the Mandalorian watching as another man devoured you. You liked it, when the man between your legs moaned against your sex.

He was decent at it. Obviously doing it more for himself at this point than for you. But between the sexual frustration that had been building for months and the overstimulation, it wasn't taking very long to bring you to a second orgasm.

All the while Not-Din leaned back and watch, taunting you and mocking you. "You really said let's throw it all away for a fuck." That line got you.

Vanth was lapping at your oversensitive clit, pulling the hood back and relishing the sobs of pleasure. But it wasn't just a sob of pleasure. Tears rolled over your temples and into your hair as your legs quake. Your chest ached as you begged him not to stop, hoping another orgasm might drown out the despair that this wasn't the man you wanted.

He was a poor substitute to reconcile your hurt feelings. You regret it already, as you knew you would. But that doesn't stop you from screwing him for a few more hours.

Eventually all is quiet, the both of you lying in the dark, catching your breath and coming down from your highs. And you watched as the vision of Din faded, feeling more empty now than you had before. "Thanks," you murmur into the dark and sit up before exhaustion fully takes you.

"Hey," he calls into the dark, the only light trickling in from the port window. "I know heart break is absolutely soul crushing, but there will be others. I promise. Someday it won't hurt so bad." You flinch when a hand brushes down your spine.

Self hatred seeped from you with the finishings Cobb left in you. "I'm gonna go," you manage, standing on sore legs to collect your clothes.

"Alright."

There's nothing but the shuffle of clothes as you get dressed. That was the last thing either of you spoke to each other before you stepped out onto the porch and into the cool night air.

#din djarin x reader #din x you #din x reader #reader insert #cobb vanth #din djarin #smut #angst #dont worry you bang din next

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btsficsforthehumble · 3 years

Text

adj.: 1. Modern, unfamiliar, or different

2. Not based on or conforming to what is generally done or believed

pairing: reader x ot7

genre: college au; angst, fluff, smut, poly, ot7

Summary: You begin your first year at a prestigious university, set out on achieving your academic goals when a series of men step into your life that change the way you view the definition of love.

A/N: Thank you to the glorious minjoonalist for this banner! Everyone give her some love <3

Part One

Warnings: none in this chapter

Word count: 2k

It’s your first day.

First day entering the world of higher education, on the path to betterment (or whatever the dean said in his boring introductory presentation). To tell the truth, you were pretty zoned out as various speakers talked to the thousands of students that would now become your peers. Those hard ass plastic seats were NOT conducive for attentive listening.

Regardless, you pushed through, and here you are, Monday morning, at 8:45 sharp, sitting in yet another hard ass plastic seat. This time however, you had a small wooden desk in front of you, in line with about a couple dozen others. This was your first class --- Calculus.

You were always good at math compared to the average student, however, being placed with the super smart kids all the time made you self conscience and at worst, made you feel stupid. You were too good at math for the standard curriculum, but felt too dumb for the advanced one. It’s no surprise that math quickly became your least favorite subject.

That hadn’t changed. You were dreading this class, even though you took calculus already in high school --- theoretically, it shouldn’t be that difficult. You knew however, that you had absolutely no willpower when it came to studying math. And considering the fact that you are now attending a prestigious university, one known for their STEM programs, you felt adequately nervous.

You glanced around the classroom, baron except for the desks and the large whiteboard covering the expanse of the front wall. A few other students showed up early as well, mostly looking either as nervous as you felt, or tired like they had just enjoyed their first weekend at college perhaps a little too much.

You yourself hadn’t gone too crazy, going to a single party on Saturday where you only had one drink --- lame even by your own standards. However, you were just getting to know your roommates, and felt it best to remain sober enough to keep an eye out on them or manage any situation this new environment would throw you.

You weren’t close with any of your peers from your high school that also attended your university, and it seemed your roommates were in the same boat. So, naturally, you all decided to go out together as new friends. They all seemed to be nice, and you got along well with everyone so far. You hoped that wouldn’t change.

You sigh gently to yourself while reflecting upon your less than thrilling weekend. You hope that one day you’d let yourself experience the wild college parties that you've heard about. You want to know what it felt like to get properly drunk and dance with a cute stranger without any worries in the back of your head.

Speaking of cute strangers, you take a glance around the classroom, steadily filling up with students. You might as well see if there were any hotties in the class that you knew you’d rather daydream about than pay attention to exponent integrations.

You spotted a boy sitting a ways away from you that caught your attention. His legs were stretched out in front of his desk, in a way that screamed “I don’t care if you trip over me, in fact, I dare you.”

His attention was glued to his phone, as he appeared to be taking snapchats --- probably for some obnoxiously beautiful girls, you thought to yourself, eyes rolling slightly. You had to admit though, he was quite attractive. He had dark brown hair, covering his forehead and slightly swept to the side. His eyes were a dark brown to match, and were quite cute. He had a nice nose and clear skin. His most striking feature was his lips however. He had lips that were larger than the average guy and they looked very kissable. And his frame was decently large, his shoulders wide and masculine, juxtaposing his cute eyes and lips.

You blushed at your own thoughts about the stranger across the room, knowing you were getting entirely carried away in your state of boredom. You still had five minutes until class was supposed to begin. You put away your own phone, which you were holding in your hands as some sort of social protection, in your backpack. You then pulled out your fresh new binder with graph paper, lined paper, tabs, dividers, the whole nine yards. You may not enjoy math, but organization always brought you some level of mental tranquility.

You pull out a pen just as you glance up to see a boy standing in front of you, with the brightest, thousand watt smile on his face. His backpack was slung over one shoulder, his hand in his jeans pocket. He had on a loose tee-shirt that somehow flattered his slim frame. You could tell that he wasn’t a meek first year still finding his bearings. He must be at least a second year. You feel your face heat up as you make eye contact, seeing that he’s looking directly at you.

“Hi there! Is this seat taken?” His eyes widen almost comically as he points to the seat directly in front of you.

“Ah no, no it’s empty.” You cringe internally as you notice your less than relaxed delivery.

He gives you another dazzling smile as he plops in the seat in front of you, pulling out his own simple notebook and pencil.

You rub your forehead trying to get yourself to calm down. You need to not turn red every time a cute boy talks to you, let alone look in your direction. This is so not like you.

You manage to calm yourself down, ready to begin your first class so your attention is off the boy sitting in front of you.

Your professor must have walked in as you were mentally reprimanding yourself, because you hear an authoritative man's voice come from the front of the room when 9 o’clock hits. You immediately began trying to pay attention, writing down all of the information he put on the board even though it’s stuff already in the syllabus. The truth was that you simply needed to throw yourself into a task to keep your mind from straying back onto the boy in front of you.

About seven minutes later, the door to the classroom swings open and another boy walks through, giving the prof a quick salute and grin in apology. You, as well as the rest of the class, had naturally turned your eyes towards the distraction. As soon as it was found to just be a straggler, everyone’s attention quickly shifted back to the professor in front. Your curiosity was piqued by his confident, goofy nature, however.

You couldn’t help but keep your eyes on him a moment longer. He had shaggy dark hair, tanned skin, and a smile that was strikingly unique as it was a little bit of a square shape. He was devastatingly handsome, and you had a feeling he knew it too. Your hypothesis was instantly supported as he made eye contact with you, noticing you looking at him longer than your peers. He flashes a smirk your way that you’re pretty sure could knock anyone’s panties off.

You mentally start screaming and feel yourself turning the color of a freaking fire truck. You quickly jerk your head back down to your notes and refuse to look back up to meet his eyes.

It appears he wasn’t going to give you a break though. You felt the air woosh past you as he walks down your aisle and stops immediately behind you, taking the empty seat.

Great.

Now, you were sandwiched between two guys that you're pretty sure were the most attractive you’d seen in a long while. Not to mention the guy several rows over that you were ogling before they even arrived. You quickly realized that there wasn’t a chance in hell your full attention was going to be on the lecture during this class.

Your entire body sagged with relief when your fifty minute class was up and the professor released everyone. Noticing, the boy behind you leaned forward and huskily whispered, “You’re not a morning person either, huh?”

You froze for half a second at the sound of his voice. It was deep and silky, and my god was it sexy. And he was talking to you.

“You could say that.” You were shocked at his attention but somehow managed to pull out a response that didn’t make you look like an idiot. You didn’t bother turning around to look at him as you answered, deciding not to let him see how pink your cheeks were as you returned your items to your bag.

He let out a little chuckle and stood up.

“I’m Taehyung. And you, my little night owl, are?” He drew out the are waiting for your response.

You too stood up, putting your backpack on.

“I, Taehyung, am off to my next class.” You were annoyed that he seemed to take notice of your attention on him in the beginning of the class and thought that you were a fun little target to flirt with. You knew he wasn’t interested, but merely found it fun to take advantage of his good looks. This allowed you to get over your schoolgirl crush behavior and return to your normal self, which you knew had more of a bite than necessary at times. You had developed a tough edge at a young age and you think that it has protected you a lot already in your short life.

He raised an eyebrow at the sudden appearance of sass and gave you another grin. You simply rolled your eyes and turned on your heel to march yourself out of the classroom, joining the other students that were filtering out. By the time you had turned around, the cute guy with the smile that made your heart melt had already left. You were slightly disappointed to your own chagrin. Why on Earth are you paying attention to boys when you knew you had other priorities? It’s not like anything would come of it anyway.

Throughout high school, you steered away from boys in a romantic sense and they more than happily did the same. You knew you were intimidating, as you had a sharp mouth and quick wit. No one messed with you and you liked it that way. You had kept to yourself, and kept your grades high. You just didn’t have any interest in the boys you’ve known since you were a kid.

As you walked to your next class, you silently cursed yourself for not being cool and collected the entire period. Where was that icy exterior that you had curated for years? How did a simple smile from the boy in front of you turn you into a puddle? How did that annoyingly hot guy behind you manage to blindside you at first?

You nearly stopped in your tracks and groaned when you realized that you had that class every. single. day. It was five credits, so that meant Monday through Friday, you’d be there 9 in the morning, attempting to not think about the cute boys around you.

You were giddy deep, deep down that such cute guys were in your class but the more level headed side of you knew it was in vain. It’s not like they’d go for you or anything. And besides, they would only distract you from the class that you already knew was going to be a struggle.

You pinched your eyes shut when you slid into your seat in your next class.

You had a feeling it was going to be a long semester.

#BTS #ot7 #ot7 x reader #poly ot7 #fanfic

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noladyme · 3 years

Text

La Cuervo - Epilogue

We’ve come to the end of the story of Angel and Nina. Thank you to everyone who commented, reblogged and liked. Every one of you inspired me to keep writing. Thank you for reading.

She is used to the biker-life, having grown into a woman in the familiar embrace of SAMCRO. A bad decision and a gun-shot later, she gets whisked off to Santo Padre, and put under the protection of another club. What is supposed to be a short stint in the Mayan headquarters just north of the border to Mexico, turns into something more; when la quervo begins to develop feelings for el angel - and he seems to return them in kind...

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming", this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on, on Mayans M.C., are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambiguous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive, please let me know.

Epilogue.

It was an especially cloudy day for a bike-ride. He looked up at the sky, and prayed to his mother it wouldn’t rain. It was already too cold for short sleeves, and he regretted not having listened when he’d been told to put on a hoodie under his cut that morning. The precious cargo behind him shifted in her seat. The bump pressed against his back was restless as well, he felt; from the tiny kicks he was receiving to his kidneys. “You alright?”, Angel called over his shoulder. “Yeah… she’s just antsy…”, Nina replied. “We’re almost there”, he smiled. “Good. I gotta pee”. “Shit. Again?”. “Blame your daughter”, she chuckled. “Be nice to your mama, chiquita!”, Angel chuckled, addressing the cantaloupe-sized treasure in his amor’s belly.

Charming was a nice place. He could understand why Nina loved it there, but the stares their caravan was getting made him uncomfortable. The people in the small town looked at him and his brother’s as if they were gods – which in and of itself he didn’t mind – but it was a lot different than what he was used to from Santo Padre, where the Mayans were accepted and even feared; but not looked to as saviors and protectors, as the Sons of Anarchy were in Charming. His discomfort came from realizing that he’d like to be viewed as the Sons were here, back home. Becoming a Mayan had originally been about the pussy and the bikes; but lately, he felt the need to make a difference to the people in his community. Help the people who needed it; like the undocumented immigrants and the people trying to cross the border for a better life. Nina was doing what she could for those the club had gotten over so far, but it was still something they needed to keep quiet about – especially if he wanted to avoid seeing his daughter grow up from behind a plexiglass window.

They drove up to what looked like a warehouse-building; but he knew was the home of CaraCara. Pulling up next to EZ’s bike, he smiled as his brother gave Nina a hand to get off his own. “Centre of gravity seems a bit off, hermanita”, EZ chuckled. “Screw you… And move! I gotta pee…”, she sneered, and sprang for the nearest door of the warehouse. The brand-new Mayan patch moved up and down on EZ’s back, as he laughed; watching her run. Angel smiled at the sight, before patting his brother’s shoulder. “My kids got some kick”, he said. “Reina del baile, huh?”, EZ smiled. “You’re gonna have to keep an eye on her when she’s older”. “She ain’t going out dancing until she’s as old as pap’”, Angel declared. “Yo! Are you two gonna keep staring at the pregnant lady run; or are you gonna come inside?”, Bishop called after them. The two of them grinned, and followed their patch-brothers inside the large building.

They were greeted by Chibs, Happy and Tig; the latter having to tear himself away from a strikingly tall woman, to come welcome them. The woman stayed by the bar in the large room, talking quietly with a pretty blonde woman behind it. Once the initial back and forth between the presidents were over, Chibs turned to Angel, and pulled him in for a friendly half-hug. “Did you forget someone in San Pad?”, the SAMCRO president asked. “Nah, man. She’s going to the bathroom every 45 minutes”, Angel chuckled. “Filip!”, Nina called out from behind them, and Angel turned around to watch her make a waddling run over to her Charming brothers. Once they’d all embraced, Happy looked down at Nina’s belly. “You did this?”, he asked Angel. “So she tells me”, Angel grinned. Nina punched his shoulder, making him have to take a few steps back. Getting knocked up had oddly enough made her even stronger than usual. “You knew I was pregnant”, she said. “Yeah, but…”. Chibs blew out a deep breath. “You’re huge, luv’!”. “I’m not that big…”, Nina whimpered. Angel walked up behind her, and kissed her temple. “You’re beautiful, mami”, he smiled, before looking to the Sons. “You told me to get her to quit smoking”, he grinned, and rubbed his hand protectively over Nina’s bump. “Yeah, but it seems like you took an alternative approach to that, man”, Tig chuckled.

Nina was shifting on her feet. “You gotta pee again?”, Angel asked. “No… Just gotta sit down. My feet are killing me”. He led her over to sit on the couch that looked the least like it had been used as a prop, in one of the movies produced by CaraCara. The tall woman and the blonde came over to greet Nina, and the three of them hugged each other tightly; with both of the other women stroking Nina’s belly, and cooing at it. “I’m Venus”, the tall woman said, and reached out her hand to him. “And I’m guessing you’re Angel… That’s a lovely name”. “Stop flirting with my old man”, Nina grinned. “You got your own!”. “I sure do!”, Venus said, and held out her hand; proudly displaying an engagement ring. “Oh my god!”, Nina exclaimed. “Congrats!”. She hugged Venus tightly again. “I’m Lyla”, the blonde said, and smiled at Angel. “Nice to meet you”, he replied.

Angel let the three women catch up, and walked over to talk to the other men. “The estrogen-level is through the roof in here!”, Creeper grinned. “That’s just the smell of cheap perfume and artificial sperm”, Chibs said. “Artificial?”, Gilly said. “You’d be surprised how many porn-actors find it hard to produce actual cum, after 13 takes; no matter how hot the actress”, Happy laughed. “I don’t think I’d find it that hard”, Coco smirked. The door opened, and a sea of beautiful women entered the warehouse. “Feel free to give it a shot”, Tig said to the wide-eyed Mayan.

“I thought this was supposed to be a business-meeting. Not a party”, Taza said. “Who says we can’t mix the two?”, Chibs said. “But you’re right. We should get to it”. Tig turned towards the three women on the couch. “Muffin, it’s time!”, he called out. Nina frowned, but let herself be pulled to her feet by the two others. Angel sprang over to take her arm. “Are you ok, cuervo?”, he muttered. “Yeah. Let’s just get this over with”, Nina sighed.

---

“Thanks for coming all the way up here”, Chibs said from the head of the table, in the smaller room, connected to the studio. “Thank you for agreeing not to do it at your clubhouse”, Bishop said. “This one’s getting too heavy to get up the stairs behind the ice-cream shop”. He nodded towards Nina. “Go fuck yourself, Bish’”, she grunted from next to Angel. Bishop sent her a warm smile, before meeting Angel’s eyes. They both knew he wasn’t wrong. Nina had trouble even getting out of bed at this point; which Angel didn’t mind. Pregnancy sex had been even hotter than he’d imagined. “Nina’s twelve months are over. We think it’s time to discuss what happens from here on out”, Chibs said. Angel shifted in his seat, and cleared his throat. “I think it’s obvious what’s gonna happen”, he said. “She’s staying in San Pad”. He put his hand on Nina’s bump, and stroked it. “Charming is her home”, Happy said. “She’s still SAMCRO family”. “She’s Mayan family too… And she’s got my family growing in her”, Angel growled. “We need niña down south”, Coco said. “She’s the only one of the girls back home who knows how to make a proper whiskey-sour”, Riz shrugged. “What about her life here? Her friends, her job at the shop?”, Tig said.

“What about we ask Nina what she wants?”, Nina exclaimed with a huff. “I’m not property…”. Chibs and Bishop looked solemnly at each other for a long moment, before both of them broke into large grins. “We’re just fucking with you, mija!”, Bishop said. All the Mayans and Sons broke out in laughter, and Angel had to chew his lips to stop. “We didn’t come up here to talk about you coming back, ma’”, he said. Nina scowled deeply at him; giving him that cute look that made him both cringe from the promise of being chewed out later on, and simultaneously made him want to rip off her clothes, and screw her brains out. Nina was hot when she was angry. “Then, why?”, she growled.

Angel turned in his seat, and helped Nina turn in hers; with a firm hold of her hips. “I can’t marry you, without permission from your brothers… All of them”, he said. Nina’s eyes widened. “You… what?”. “You got my kid in there. And I love you”, Angel said, and laid a hand on her belly. “I wanna marry you… If you’re good with that”. Nina seemed – for once – speechless. His heart jumped up into his throat. “Nina? Mami, talk to me…”. “I’m… yeah. Uh huh… We can do that”, she squeaked. Angel let out a sigh of relief. “Thank fuck… You had me worried”, he smiled. He saw a tear at the corner of Nina’s eye, and wiped it away quickly.

He put his hand to the back of her head, and pulled her in for a kiss; when someone cleared their throat. “We haven’t agreed yet”, Tig said. “He needs all of our go-aheads”, Hank said. “All of your brothers; remember?”. “We gotta vote on this shit”, EZ smirked. For a short moment, Angel considered smacking his brother across the head, but he decided against it. He needed a unanimous yes, and EZ was actually one of the few patches he was concerned about voting against him. “Then let’s do it”, he said. Chibs raised a brow at him. “You; get out”, he said. “What?”. “Salir de la habitación, amigo”, the SAMCRO president reiterated. Nina shot him a death-glare, and squeezed Angel’s hand. “You said your peace; now let the rest of us decide if we’re gonna agree to this unholy union”. Angel got to his feet and was about to help Nina up. “Not you, sweetheart”, Taza said. “We need your take on this as well”. Angel swallowed thickly, and looked at Nina. She gave him a warm smile, which didn’t reach her eyes, and he had to force his feet to move, to leave the room.

Once outside, Angel closed the door behind him. The large studio space had filled up with hangarounds – male and female – and pornstars he recognized from movies he’d watched in the past. The one’s he’d enjoy these days weren’t CaraCara productions, because Nina didn’t like watching people she knew as friends having sex. Instead, they’d watch the mini-productions they made themselves. Lyla came over to him with a cold beer, and patted his shoulder. “The party’s gonna be pretty PG for now. Wendy’s coming in with the boys for a few hours”, she said. “After that, I can’t promise there won’t be full frontal nudity”. Angel chuckled. “I didn’t know her nephews were coming”, he said. “It was a surprise. They haven’t been back in Charming since…”. Lyla cut herself off, and seemed to be suppressing a bad memory. “Nina’s brother… Jackson. He was a good guy, huh?”. “The best… And he loved her”, Lyla said. “If it wasn’t for the fact that they didn’t look alike, you’d never guess they weren’t blood-related”. “They were alike?”. “Uh huh”, Lyla nodded fervently. “Like two peas in a pod. And she was as protective of him as he was of her”.

A dirty-blonde woman came in to the warehouse, with two boys in tow. The youngest had dark hair, while his brother was blonde. The blonde boy – in his pre-teens – ran over to Venus, and sprang into her arms; clearly enjoying resting his head against her ample breasts. The brown-haired boy – about 7 or 8 years old – clung to who Angel figured was Wendy. She shot Venus a smile, and walked over to Lyla. “This him, then?”, Wendy asked, and gave Angel a once over. “Yup”, Lyla said. “Angel, this is Wendy; and the cutie-pie down here…”. She crouched down, and ruffled the boy’s hair. “This is Thomas. Jackson’s youngest”. “Casanova over there is Abel”, Wendy grinned. Abel stood as wide-eyed as Coco had, at the sight of the beautiful women surrounding him. “And I’m Wendy”. “Good to meet you”, Angel said. He stuck out his hand to Thomas. “Hey, man. I’m Angel”. “Are you the one who knocked up my aunt Nina?”, Thomas asked. Angel was taken aback at the kid’s bluntness. “I… Yeah”, he said. Thomas narrowed his eyes at him. “Are you gonna marry her? My dad married my other mom after I was born. You’re supposed to marry someone if you get them pregnant”. “I’m planning to”, Angel said. “If you’ll let me”. “I’ll think about it”, Thomas said.

Both Wendy and Lyla laughed, and then gave each other a warm hug. “If you wanna surprise her, you should probably go into my office”, Lyla said. “She’ll be out in a few”. Abel looked at the people in the room. “I wanna stay out here”, he declared; as fascinated as his brother was at all the women. “You’re just like your dad”, Wendy sighed. “Go on, Tommy. I got movies in there for you”, Lyla said, before looking at Wendy. “Disney”, she added. Wendy smiled, and dragged Thomas away. She nabbed Abel out of the lap of a scantily clad brunette; and the three of them went into a back office, in the corner of the building.

Angel looked at the door to where the meeting regarding the future of his family was being held behind, and felt his nerves starting to get to him. They’d taken too long already; the vote shouldn’t be that difficult. He took out his pack of smokes, and was about to light up, when Lyla put a hand on his lower arm. “Please go outside for that. I’m trying to keep the studio smoke-free”. “Yeah, sure… Sorry”, Angel muttered, and hurried towards the exit.

Once outside he began pacing back and forth. One cigarette turned in to two, which then turned in to three; and still no one had come to tell him what the decision of the clubs was. He was about to say fuck it, and stomped out his smoke, to walk back inside, and demand an answer; when Nina came outside. She walked over to him with a solemn expression on her face; and in that moment, Angel’s heart broke. “I’m sorry…”, she said. Angel felt rage building in him. Here was his endgame – the one woman he would ever be able to fully give himself to, and the mother of his child – and he couldn’t have her, because of a bunch of fucking bikers. He grabbed Nina’s hand, and tried pulling her towards his bike. “Fuck this shit. We’re out of here. We’ll go north… Like Canada, or something. I’ll marry you there… I ain’t letting them…”. Nina stayed in place, unmoving. “No, Angel… I’m sorry… I know your pap’ would expect me to; but I can’t wear white… It wouldn’t feel right”.

Angel’s jaw dropped, and he looked at Nina with wide eyes. “They said yes?”, he croaked. “Yes…”, Nina said below her breath. “I mean, Happy wanted our first-born as payment; but I told him to shove it”. Angel cupped her face, and stared deep into her eyes, looking for any sign of deceit; finding none. “We’re gonna get married?”, he said. Nina nodded. “We’re gonna get married, mami!”. he threw his arms around her waist, and lifted her up, spinning her around. “Careful!”, Nina giggled. He set her back on the ground, and pulled her in for a deep kiss; feeling like life itself came from the taste of her mouth. “I love you, cuervo”. Tears streamed down his cheeks. “Te amo, so… fucking… much!”, he said, leaving kisses on Nina’s lips between each word. “I love you too”, she smiled.

Angel remembered something, and grabbed for the item in his pocket, he’d been keeping there, since his pap’ had given it to him a few days earlier. “Here”, he said, and held out the ring. “This was my mam’s”. Nina took the ring from him, and smiled. “Thank you…”, she said. She held it to her finger, before looking up at him. “Wait, did you wanna…? Or should I just…?”. Angel took her hand in his, and together, they put the ring on her left ring-finger. He pressed another deep kiss to her lips, and then got on his knees; putting his hands on either side of her belly. “I love you, chiquita. You’re the best thing to happen to me since your mama”. He kissed Nina’s tummy, just above her navel, and turned his ear against it, listening to the other love of his life moving around in there.

“Are you two finished?”, Chibs called from the doorway. “Someone’s come to see you, little sister”. Nina frowned in confusion, and Angel smiled brightly; getting to his feet again. He led her in front of her, with his hands on her hips. “Try not to give birth right this moment, mama”, he whispered in her ear, when Lyla opened the door to the office, and Abel and Thomas came out. “Oh… Oh, my god!”, Nina cried out, and ran as fast as she could over to her two nephews. She kissed both of their foreheads, and each boy wiped off the kisses in childish disgust, while she hugged them. “You’re so big!”, Nina croaked, before turning to Wendy, and hugging her. Angel looked on with a full heart, as both of the boys took turns touching her belly.

EZ came up next to him, and patted his back. “Congratulations, Angel”, he said. Angel turned, and gave his brother a warm hug. “Thanks, man…”, he said.

---

A little while later, Angel was seated next to his fiancée on the couch. Someone had produced a box of old photographs of club-parties through the ages. Nina was groaning in embarrassment, as Chibs held out a picture of herself and him, where the Son was holding up his fingers in a cross at Nina, who was sporting a large pimple on her forehead. “The Creature of the Black Lagoon!”, Chibs laughed. “Funny…”, Nina smiled sarcastically, and ripped the photo out of his hands. Angel snatched it from her, and put it in his cut pocket. “I’m keeping this, cuervo”. “Why?”, she frowned. “Blackmail… Maybe you’ll stop trying to cook for me”. “Kiss my ass”, she retorted. “Gladly”, Angel said, and kissed her temple.

Nina picked up an envelope full of pictures, and pulled them out, to look through them. “What’s this?”, she said. Angel grabbed the pile of photographs. A grin spread on his face. The telltale patch of the Mayan mask sprang into his eyes, on the back of a biker; who’d turned his face towards the camera. It was Bishop; who was sporting a shorter beard, but a no less intimidating mustache. “Wow, this was years ago…”, he chuckled. “San Bernardino, right?”, he asked Chibs. “Yeah”, the president nodded. Nina studied the pictures, as Angel flipped them. “What’re the Mayans doing there? Weren’t you rivals?”. Looking at the date in the bottom corner of the picture, Angel shook his head. “Nah. This was just after we became allies. I think this was one of my first parties as a prospect. It was like a club-mixer thing, with a couple of charters from each side, meeting up, and getting wasted in the name of peace…”

He flicked through some more pictures, before reaching one with a tall bearded man in a beanie; a goofy looking biker with a mohawk; and a chubby man, with unruly, curly hair. Angel noticed Nina’s face light up in something resembling recognition. “SAMCRO?”, Angel asked. Nina nodded. “Opie, Juice and Bobby”, she said, smiling softly. “You said you were there?”. “Yeah… I think so”. Angel flicked through some more photographs, and pulled a picture out from near the bottom of the pile. He laughed out loud. “Shit, yeah… Look at that dumbass prospect staring at the camera. He don’t know shit yet…”.

A younger version of himself – though not by many years – was pictured with a tray of shots in hand, looking drunk and smiling goofily, while getting ready to serve a group of Mayans and Sons, who were seated at a table, in the middle of a poker-game. Angel looked happy just to be there, and the prospect flash on his chest looked brand new. “Fuck, man… Look at that hair…!”, he chuckled. He looked at Nina again, expecting her to laugh along with him; but saw that her eyes were full of tears. She was staring at a blonde man; who was seated by the table, shooting the camera a relaxed grin, and reaching for one of the glasses on Angel’s tray. “What’s wrong? My hair don’t look that stupid", Angel said, letting Nina take the photograph from his hands. “Mami? Do you know this guy?”. Angel looked down at the picture with wide eyes. “I remember him… Some big deal in SOA, right…?”. “Jax…”, Nina breathed. “This is him…”. “That’s your brother?”, Angel almost gasped. “I can’t believe I actually met the guy". “Do you remember him?”, Nina asked hopefully.

Angel dug through his memories, wanting nothing but to please her with a heartwarming story. “I was pretty wasted…”, he admitted. “But I remember he was talking about his kids…”. Nina nodded solemnly, seemingly sad, that she couldn’t get anything else out of him. He put his arm around her, and kissed her forehead. Chibs reached across the table, and took the picture. He looked down at it and chuckled. “Of course you don’t remember…”, he said. “But I can’t believe I fucking forgot!”. “What?”, Angel asked. “You were driving that piece of shit Suzuki, and thought you’d get away with sitting on Jackson’s Super Glide, for a picture”. The memory began dawning on Angel, and he instantly cringed. “He caught you, and knocked your fucking lights out! Peace was almost off because of that shit…”. Taza, who’d been chatting with Tig, took the picture from Chibs, and smiled down at it; before handing it back to Angel. “Don’t you remember Angel? We put another three months on your year as prospect for that”.

A clear laughter broke through the sound of the music, and the talking crowd. Angel turned and looked at Nina, whose face was contorted in glee. “Jax told me about that! How some no-name prospect rubbed up on his bike”, she said. “I had to put him in his place… I got him a beer when no one was watching, though”. “Yeah…”, Angel said, letting the corners of his lips rise in a slight smile. "I remember now. He seemed like a good guy”. “He was…”, Nina said. Her brows furrowed for a moment, before she met his eyes. “Do you…? I want to go see him”. Angel had to think for a moment, before he realized what she was saying. “Yeah… Of course”, he said. “You wanna go now?”. Nina nodded fervently, but seemingly nervous that he’d say no.

Angel put the picture in his cut pocket, to keep safe; then got to his feet, and pulled Nina up to stand. “Let’s go”, he said. He looked at the others around the table, and gave them a half smile. “I still need one more person’s blessing”.

---

The sun was about to go down, when they made it to the cemetery. Nina was holding on so hard to Angel’s hand, as they walked down the rows of grave-stones, that he was sure she’d leave marks; but he didn’t say anything – strangely nervous at the situation, and needing her support as much as she needed his. Nina smiled at a few grave-stones they passed, with names like Winston, Knowles and Munson. Angel noticed another stone, with the name John Teller engraved on it. He felt the urge to nod respectfully at it, as Nina stopped for a few seconds, to brush some dead leaves from it.

“It’s up here”, she said in a whisper, and pulled him with her, to a large stone with the Sons of Anarchy A, over the name Jackson Nathaniel Teller. Nina kneeled down in front of it, and held her brother’s helmet in her lap. Giving up on the fight on whether she should use it or not long ago, Angel had added some extra padding to it for her; so that it would at least be safer, than it had been before. “Hi, Jax…”, Nina said. “It’s been a while… I’m sorry about that, but I’ve been kinda busy”. She rubbed her belly protectively. “This is Angel”, she said, and looked up at him, with a warm smile. Angel cleared his throat, unsure what to do. “Hi…”, he muttered. “Yeah, I know… But he’s got a cool bike”, Nina chuckled. Angel frowned in confusion, but decided against commenting on her words. “I kept my promise after all. I’m happy. And everyone is safe… At least, as safe as they can be, as outlaw bikers…”.

She sat quietly for a long moment, and Angel kneeled down next to her; putting an arm around her shoulders. He kissed her check, and tasted the salty taste of her tears on his lips. “You ok?”, he whispered. Nina looked at him, and nodded; a smile on her lips. “Happy tears”, she said, and looked back at the stone. “I went back to school. I’m taking classes to become a paralegal… I wanna try to help the undocumented people the Mayans are moving through the tunnels”. “And she is”, Angel cut in. “She’s doing good work with what she knows, already”. Nina smiled embarrassedly for a moment, before continuing. “I’ve had to take a little break though, ‘cuz of the baby… It’s kind of hard to keep up with online classes, when you gotta pee every 45 minutes. But once she’s here, I‘ll be able to go back part time… I think I’ve found my path, and I have someone holding my hand while I walk it. And we’ve got have a large family – ourlarge family – to support us, whatever might get in our way”.

They were quiet for a moment longer; while Nina brushed her fingertips over the helmet in her lap. “I’ll be ok now, Jax. I promise…”. She lifted the helmet, and pressed a kiss to it, before placing it on the ground in front of the gravestone. She looked at Angel, and wiped her eyes. “Let’s go”.

Angel got to his feet, and went behind Nina, to lift her up to stand. Hand in hand, they began walking back towards the parking lot. “Wait a sec…”, Angel said, and halted. “What?”, Nina said. He pressed a short kiss to her lips. “I’ll be right back”.

He walked back to Jackson’s grave. “Thanks, man… For everything”, he said. He kissed his fingers, and pressed them to the stone; before turning around, and walking back towards to his woman, his daughter, and their future together.

The End.

---

tags: @cole-winchester @doloreschanal

#angel reyes #angel reyes fic #angel reyes x oc #mayans mc #mayans mc fic #ez reyes #coco cruz #sons of anarchy

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lovelytarou · 3 years

Text

just let me adore you

— in which dabi wanted to buy you clothes and see you in only the best cloths there is in the world, the only problem is how you see yourself and he will do anything to prove how much he adores you

pairing: dabi x female!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst if you squint, suggestive

tags: hurt/comfort??, the reader's insecurities (nothing too detailed), negative thoughts, i advise not to read this if you don't want any of that

a/n: i'm so excited to post this that i just can't wait another day!!! also pls give feedback i spent all my love and time in this instead of schoolworks sksksk but really, i hope y'all like this and i'm sorry if i made dabi too soft in this, the fandom needs more soft dabi every once in a while. sorry if i'm putting my inner dabi fuckr in this fic 🤧

“what are you wearing?” dabi asked one night after you emerged from the shower.

you saw him lounging in your shared bedroom, waiting for you as he was scrolling on his phone when you arrived from work. you quickly excused yourself and took a shower with a promise of cuddling with him afterwards.

snaking your arms on his neck, you gave a peck on his cheek and grinned.

“it's one of my old shirts, why?” you frowned, looking down at your clothes.

dabi wrapped his arm on your waist, holding you closer to his body as you sit on his lap. his other hand reached up to your face and tucked your still damp hair behind your ear.

“it looks like shit,” he bluntly admitted while looking in your eyes fondly.

that earned an offended gasp from you as you attempted to wiggle out of his grip but to no avail. dabi may not look like it, but he sure is one muscular guy.

“well, i'm sorry if i don't have such expensive tastes when it comes to casual clothing!” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. the action itself made dabi look down on your breasts and bit his lip.

if only you can see how he sees you right now.

“exactly. you only deserve to wear the finest silk,” his hand travels down your exposed thighs, slightly lifting up the oversized shirt in the process.

“the most exquisite lace that shows off your boobs and your delicious curves,” his voice dropped into a sultry tone, his wandering hands squeezing your sides making you smack him playfully on his chest.

“stop it!” you hid your face on his neck, his jaw resting on the top of your head.

“what? it's true.” he chuckles, kissing your hair.

he brought his index finger under your chin so you can meet his eyes. there is nothing but love and adoration swimming in those beautiful teal irises.

“i love seeing you in fancy clothes, but...” his warm breath that faintly smelled of smoke and mint that makes your head spin fanned your face, his lips ghosting over yours in a gentle dance.

as if the world turned upside down, you're now on your back as dabi towered over you, “you're even gorgeous when naked,”

his lips sealed over yours again and again. that night, he threw your old shirt where it could not be seen anymore and you were more than thankful for it as you spent the entire night making love.

the next few days, dabi made it his mission to buy (read: steal) clothes for you. in the morning after hours of rearranging your guts, dabi basically threw away all of your clothes in the trash and made you wear his shirts. you almost wringed his neck because of that but you let it slide when he told you that he'd replace them with better ones.

back at the league of villains hideout, dabi eyed all of the people gathered around the room. shigaraki's currently holding a meeting for their next attack and here he is, imagining you in the most beautiful outfit he'd get for you.

his teal eyes landed on the back of himiko's blonde head.

heaving a heavy sigh, he kicked toga's seat.

“hey, nutjob” he called lowly, not wanting to get the others' attention.

she scoffed at the nickname before turning her body towards him.

“what is it, staples? do you need something?” she cocked an eyebrow at him, playing with her knife in boredom.

“yeah. you like...cute things, right?” dabi inwardly cringed at his choice of words. never ever in his life did he imagine he would say such things to someone and worst of all, he needed her help.

toga chuckled lightly at him, noticing the small blush on dabi's face.

“oh? what's this all of a sudden? are you taking a liking to me now?” toga's smirk widened upon seeing the latter's growing annoyance.

“in your dreams,” dabi grumbled, “i needed help with something.”

pinching the bridge of his nose, dabi closed his eyes and cursed at himself. after this conversation, his colleague would definitely find something to tease him for. but then again, he's willing to look like a fool if it's for you.

after the boring meeting that lasted for approximately four hours, dabi and toga exited the hideout to raid a few malls.

“i don't understand why you didn't just choose the clothes yourself?” toga hummed, examining a cute top with cat prints on it.

she placed it over her front and modeled it in the mirror before her, posing this way and that. from the corner of her eye, she sees dabi leaning against the wall, arms crossed with a bored look on his face.

“don't you think i wouldn't ask for your help if i can do that?” dabi rolled his eyes in exhaustion, this is taking too much time. the two of them have been in twenty shops already and raided five malls in only half a day.

toga poked her tongue at him and clutched the cute top along with the other clothing. she pushed them all into dabi's arms, making him drop most of it on the floor.

she suddenly stopped and gasped as they exited the store, the neon pink lights reflecting on her eyes as she squealed in delight.

without warning, toga dragged dabi into the lingerie store.

upon entering, the cashier immediately cowered under the counter as the two villains surveyed the place. the person was about to reach for the telephone when toga stabbed the glass counter near their hand.

“don't even think about it,” she grinned down at them menacingly.

dabi ignored them as he looked around. it's filled with many lingeries that he doesn't know which one to look at first. there is no doubt that anyone would love to see their lover dressed in those promiscuous outfits.

his thoughts immediately wandered over to you, dressed in black lace set, writhing under him and making pretty noises just for him.

before his lewd thoughts could wander, he called toga over and nodded his head at the item of clothing he's been eyeing.

“i want that one.”

the first thing you noticed upon coming home was that it's empty. the mugs that was left in the sink that morning was still where you last saw them, the unfolded laundry is still in the basket, and the television in the living room is off.

dabi must not be home yet.

you let a small frown form on your face. you had expected to come home to your beloved boyfriend and welcome you with open arms and kisses.

today wasn't the best of days, to say the least. the series of bad things after another drove you mad and all you wanted was to go home and be wrapped in your lover's hug as if the two of you are the only people in the world that exists.

taking your shoes off, you padded towards your shared bedroom and slowly took off your work clothes and sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh.

rubbing your arms, you caught sight of yourself in the body length mirror at the corner.

your gaze lingered for a long while, eyeing every expanse of skin exposed. you chewed on your lip anxiously as you made your way to the mirror.

your mind was clouded with negative thoughts and jabs at yourself. this is the reason why you hated being alone, you are left with nothing but hate at yourself and there's nobody to pull you out of it. you are suffering by yourself and having to push through it.

slowly, you unwrapped your arms from your sides and stared at the body in front of you. staring from head to toe, listing each thing that you find a flaw, an insecurity, an imperfection.

what did dabi see in you?

you don't have the most attractive body that rivalled any pro-hero's, or a killer charisma, a beautiful face that could take anyone's breath away, your skin isn't as clear as the ones the models in tv and magazines have, you have a lot of scars from childhood and growing up, there are uneven skin color, a wound, and your hair isn't as pretty as other girls'.

so, why? why did dabi stayed? why did he, a handsome, powerful, strong, smart man, asked you to be his girlfriend when he could have anyone he wanted in the world that is much better than you?

tears streamed down your face as your body was wracked with sobs. slowly sliding down to the floor, you clutched your chest as you felt an excruciating agony. repeating over and over in your head why dabi doesn't love you.

through your tears and cry of pain, you didn't hear the door open and close. nor the sound of your boyfriend's voice calling to you or the door to the bedroom opening and the sound of numerous shopping bags falling to the ground as dabi takes hurried steps towards you, who is reduced to a ball of sadness on the floor.

“baby? what's wrong? why are you crying?” he didn't get too close to you at first, expecting you might not want any sort of contact at your moment of vulnerability and decided to ask you instead.

you're still trembling as small sobs leave your lips.

you gasped, shocked to hear that he's home as you quickly sat up and sloppily wiped your tears with your hands and arms.

“d-dabi! you're home!” you sniffled, doing your best to look alright although it's futile since he has already seen you crying your eyes out.

your boyfriend can only look at you with concern filling his eyes. he hovered his hand in midair between the two of you as he looked at your eyes intently. you answered him wordlessly by leaning towards his touch.

it evoked a sigh of relief from your lips as you felt his charred and normal skin, clutching his arm like your life depended on it. and maybe at that moment, it did.

he's relieved to know that he's not who you were upset about, but it didn't lessen his worry.

dabi leaned down to kiss your temple, his lips lingering there as he brought your face close to his chest.

“tell me what's got my baby so upset,” he mumbled against the skin. hearing the deep rumble of his voice against his chest calmed you down a bit.

you closed your eyes as you exhaled, surrounding yourself with dabi. his scent, his touch, the feeling of his heart beating against your ear, his lulling voice pulling you out of your waning thoughts.

“it's...stupid,” you laughed breathily, shaking your head.

“nothing about you is stupid, angel.” he immediately rebutted, pinching your waist.

you hid your face in his chest, not wanting him to see you like this. vulnerable and weak.

“i-i was just having a bad day, and all i want was to come home to you and...” you paused, your thoughts suddenly coming back to you. you fought a sob that threatened to spill from your lips, biting it down.

“i don't understand what you see in me,” you whispered, voice cracking at the end.

he shushed you softly, stroking your hair and rubbing your lower back in circles.

never in his life had he seen you so down. you seemed like the type of person who always got their shit together. like nothing wrong ever happens in their life. he'll look at you and all he sees is this amazing woman who loves to smile and bring happiness in his miserable life.

he admits that he may not be the best boyfriend in the world, but damn it if he didn't even make you happy every second of every day of your life like you did in his.

seeing you so upset makes him want to go out there and find whatever that will make you smile again.

“i'm sorry i'm not home to comfort you, baby. but i'm here now, okay? i don't like seeing you cry, pretty girl.” he muttered, facing your head up to him as he pecked your tears away.

you softly giggled at the nickname.

“you wanna know what i saw in you?” he asked, and you nodded your head at him.

his lips fluttered over your forehead, giving you a kiss there, “you're the most amazing person i've ever met–” another kiss on your nose, “the most beautiful, sweet, caring–” a kiss on your eyelids, the apples of your cheeks, “you're so fucking hot and kind that i didn't know what i did in my fucked up life to deserve you.”

he cupped both of your cheeks in his hands and made you look into his eyes. there's still the same adoration and love in them, it made your heart swell with many emotions just for him. only he can make your heart beat wildly inside your chest.

not letting him say another word, you surged forward and crashed your lips to his in a deep, passionate kiss. a few tears escaped, but this time it's because of happiness and the overwhelming love he have for you.

you were both panting when you pulled away, grinning stupidly as your foreheads touch, staring lovingly into each other's eyes.

“i love you, d'you know that?” you breathed out, pecking his lips once more.

“yeah, i know.” dabi smirked, wrapping his arms around you and picking you up. your legs wrapped around his slim waist in return.

he threw the both of you on the bed, you on his lap as he stared up at you with a lovestruck look in his eyes.

“say it back!” you whined, pouting playfully at him.

he pecked your lips this time and tugged softly on your bottom lip, making you moan.

slowly, you felt him lower you down on the mattress as he placed open-mouthed kisses from your jaw to your neck. the fire ignited inside your core as you gripped his biceps, the way his lips are doing things to you, you can't help but just lay there accept all he had to offer.

“mmm, i love you, too. but i wanted to show you how much instead,” he whispered lowly in your ear before biting at your sweet spot and creating a mark for everyone to see.

his lips traveled lower to where you needed him the most, gripping his hair as you sang beautiful songs for him.

“y/n! are you done, yet?” dabi asked for the umpteenth time that day as he waited for you to come out of your shared bedroom.

you both decided to go on a date and it's been two hours since you told him that you're ‘almost done’. he's been waiting patiently for you, knowing that you'd come out of that room and take his breath away. hell, you can wear the dirtiest rags and he'd still think you're the most beautiful girl he has ever seen.

“just one sec!” you called out from inside.

he couldn't help but groan in annoyance, his patience wearing thin.

he glanced at the time on his phone.

how long are you gonna be in there for?

“babe, i swear if you don't come out of there after five minutes, i'll leave without y-”

he didn't get to finish his words as you came out of the bedroom wearing only the skimpiest, thinnest, and revealing lingerie that left nothing to imagination.

he found himself swallowing his words as his gaze hungrily drank your figure up and down, focusing on every detail, every skin exposed to his eyes.

you decided to tease him, wearing only the lingerie he had ‘bought’ you a few days ago. you were surprised when he did admit he had bought the clothes for you. when asked when he got the money from, he only said that he stole it from some ‘abusive bastard's credit card’.

you shyly standing there wearing a sexy outfit did nothing to his raging problem. within seconds, he stood in front of you, staring at you like you were some sort of goddess that graced the earth and he'd happily kiss the ground you walk on.

“did you...like it?” you hesitantly asked, looking up at him as you played with the ribbons of the lace hugging your body.

his pupils dilated, eyes darkening with want and he picked you up as you squealed in surprise, carrying you back to the bedroom.

“that's it, the date can wait another day.”

#dabi x reader #dabi fanfic #bnha dabi #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #bnha fanfiction #my hero academia #my hero academia fanfiction #bnha #dabi fluff #brO this already has 98 notes??? whAT #100+ notes??? thanks for showing ur appreciation i'm 🤧😭#💫.dabi #tarou writes 🌹#💫. touya todoroki

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sketchguk · 4 years

Text

lover to lean on; pjm

➳ pairing: neighbor!jimin x florist!reader

➳ genre: neighbor AU, flower shop AU, smut, fluff, angst

➳ wc: 20k

➳ synopsis: for months, you can hear your no face neighbor and his ‘girlfriend’ singing and dancing and laughing and falling in love. above all, you can hear their bed banging against your shared wall, and they won’t ever let you sleep. you’d much rather stay up at night worrying about your own problems, like the weight of an unrequited crush, so of course you’re bitterly single. but one day, the apartment is radio silent. and one day slowly turns into one week and then into an immeasurable amount of time since you’ve heard his laugh. so on valentine’s day, when you’re missing it the most, you beg your neighbor to open up to you with cookies in one hand and two broken hearts in the other.

➳ warnings: explicit language, pining, unrequited love 🤔, accidental voyeurism, unhealthy eating/sleeping habits, praise kink, body worship, nipple play, fingering, oral (f receiving), handjobs, penetration, fluffy sex

➳ a/n: oops, I uploaded this later than I expected because the word count really got me. anyways, this fic is inspired by the song call me by keshi x rainlord. go give it a listen!

Wake up and smell the roses.

That would be a great philosophy for life if you didn’t have to wake up to the sound of sex at 2 in the goddamn morning.

Perhaps it’s your fault for not checking on the thickness of the drywall prior to moving in, but it wasn’t exactly the first concern that came to mind when touring the flat. Now, it’s more of a personal problem than anything: you being bitter about not having sex while your neighbor and his girlfriend are going at it like rabbits 5 feet away from you. It’s not a very valid complaint to bring up to your landlord. He’d probably tell you to suck it up and get laid.

And he’s right.

Besides, it’s not so bad most days. You hardly even notice the sound of running water through the rusty pipelines every morning or the whizzing of the ancient radiator on cold nights. In fact, you welcome it. It’s become part of the rustic building’s old-school, pre-historic charm.

That, you can get behind.

But one thing is for sure. You’re never going to learn to appreciate the strangled garble of a morning blowjob in the steamy showers or the banging of the bedpost against the paper thin walls when you’re in desperate need of some beauty sleep, well deep in a state of REM.

It’s anything but charming.

The 3 inch thick divider between you and your not-so-considerate neighbor does absolutely nothing to drown out the soft moans and hard grunts. You can hear them loud and clear through the dead of night as if they’re right beside you.

“My god,” you sigh, rolling around your bed restlessly. Your hand blindly palms at the sheets in search of the pillow that rests beside you, placing it over your face and sandwiching yourself between the cushions. If you can’t kill your neighbor, you might as well suffocate yourself first to avoid incrimination, shamefully persecuted for third degree murder.

A frustrated groan falls from your lips, but it’s stifled against the buffer. The banging stops almost immediately.

“Shit,” you hear from the other side.

Did he come? Is it over?

You pray, hold your breath, and lie still as if you’re the one caught red-handed. But you’re not a voyeur. At least not on purpose.

It isn’t your fault for being a light sleeper because the only thing to blame is the flimsy partition your landlord dare considers a wall. If you could have it any other way, you would. This is far from ideal granted that you didn’t even ask for any of this, but it’s far too late to get a refund.

Lately, you’ve been spending your nights muting out vulgar dirty talk, the occasional squelches, and the obscene skin slapping on skin. Over time, you’ve come to know your neighbor on a much more intimate level than you would have liked despite never seeing him around. Like the fact that he thrives off of edge play and praise kinks. Yeah, it’s probably for the best that his identity is kept a secret otherwise you wouldn’t ever be able to look him in the eyes again with the knowledge that you have stowed away in the crevasses of your brainー knowledge you would prefer to forget. You don’t even know his name, but you’re long past the point of being acquainted with one another, so it would pretty be awkward to ask for it now. All you know is that he’s stuck in his own bubble, too blinded by love and lust to even consider his poor neighbor.

Most nights, you even make the effort to stumble through your cluttered, moonlit studio apartment in search of your cheap headphones that usually dangle precariously over the edge of your desk. You’ve made a mental note to invest in some earplugs and a more effective set of headphones too.

Truly, you’re not the type to invade one’s privacy. You have nothing to be sorry about because you respect your neighbor, his girlfriend, and their sexy time. If anything, they should be the ones apologizing for keeping you awake for three consecutive nights. No less on a Tuesday.

But perhaps the act is already done and you can let bygones be bygones. Maybe he’s already come, and as unfortunate as that may be for his girlfriend, the chances are he's low on stamina tonight. The vivace metronomic thuds against your shared wall would suggest he was going pretty hard at it too. Not that it’s any of your business. You’re happy that your neighbor is so in love, and that he can have sex all day, all night and fall into the comfort of his lover’s arms, unlike you. You’re not bitter.

Not at all.

You don’t mean to get invested in his relationship, but it’s just that tonight, he finished rather early as opposed to the hour it usually takes him to climaxー foreplay and edge play and all. You don’t keep track of the time per se. That’d be a little creepy, but it’s hard not to do so when you’re losing out on a precious hour of sleep each night. Especially when you’re stuck in your own overactive imagination, wondering how good his stroke game is and what type of lingerie he’s intoー

“Sorry!”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Then the realization hits you momentarily.

He’s talking to you.

They must have heard you groaning through the stupid, thin walls, and therefore, you’re responsible for this very awkward exchange.

Your grip on the pillow loosens as you lift it over your head.

“It’s okay!” Your voice cracks with a heightened tone, “Just make sure you use protection!” The cringe settles into the pit of your stomach as soon as you respond. You squeeze your eyes shut and mentally facepalm yourself. You should have left it alone, but your cursed mouth moves way faster than your thoughts.

The couple whispers to one another, but it’s hushed and hurried. Faint and hard to decipher. Angry, even. The wall must be really selective on what it chooses to mute out which is absolutely perfect when you actually want to know what’s happening on the other side.

However, moments after, you can still hear the rustle of sheets and the patter of footstepsー two pairs. Even the harsh close of the door and the soft turning of the deadbolt, a resounding click that could be heard if you were to listen close enough.

Once again, there’s a shuffle of feet that skid across the hardwoodー one pair. A few creaks echo from the aged floorboards. And then there’s a squeak from the bed slat, a heavy mass pressing on the mattress.

You sit in silence with eyes wide open as you trap air into your lungs in fear of breathing out. Correction, in fear of your neighbor making comments on your rude interruption. If you could pretend that you’re asleep, maybe the problem will disappear into the night.

But it doesn’t because it never works that way.

Moonlight filters through the pane glass windows, right between the cracks of your curtain. It illuminates your face and keeps you awake longer than you need to be. You manage to let out the breath you’ve been holding when something else breaks the silence.

You can hear it faintly. The soft hum of an unfamiliar tune before the soft outbreak of vocals. The song is bitter, but the voice is sweet.

Your neighbor has gotten into the habit of singing whether it be at dawn or dusk, yet you can never complain given his velvety voice. Sometimes it’s accompanied by the strum of an acoustic guitar or the tap of an electronic keyboard. But one thing that never changes is his love for the same old bubble gum pop music that’s rinsed and repeated on the radio. Nothing but love on the brain. Mushy lyrics that bear no meaning to you, and frankly, to anyone who’s painfully single and/or heartbroken.

You would have expected nothing less from this man though. His taste in music is a given. Most days, you can physically feel his warmth and kindness based on the dulcet timbre of his voice. Although you’ll never care to admit it to him, it helps you fall asleep on nights when you’re drained from work. They’re comforting songs that warm your heart, especially because he’s singing such sincere lyrics about his girlfriend.

His love for her is pure, and it’s disgustingly cute.

No matter how many times you try to convince yourself that you’re happy for the lovely couple while internally cringing during their late night endeavors, you’re wondering if you’re subconsciously longing for a relationship just like theirs.

But you’d be crazy not to dream about that kind of love story. One in which the guy cooks a meal for you at the end of every night, served alongside a hot cup of peppermint tea to help you sleep better. In which he runs a bath for you, flower petals, candles, soap suds, and the whole shebang, only to hop right in behind you. Someone to keep you company while giving you a back massage, working on the hard-to-reach knots that line your shoulder blade after a hard work day. Of course at his own volition, never having to be asked to do so.

Perhaps you’re more invested in your neighbor’s picture perfect relationship than you thought, knowing all these little, intimate details no one else should know. But once again, the thin wall is to blame. You’re not an eavesdropper. You’re just a hopelessly hopeless romantic who needs to wake up and smell the damn roses.

Because apparently, not every relationship is as perfect as it seems.

“Everything okay?” You don’t know why you open your mouth, but you do, and you can’t take it back. He’s long since stopped singing, but the residual silence is louder than the gentle voice that once filled the space.

He sighs deeply. The frustration is unmistakable, and you regret ever saying anything.

“Yeah… Just trouble in paradise.” He chuckles dryly, but there’s a tinge of sadness to it.

The room is quiet again. You debate with yourself, wondering if you should hash it out with him or go to fucking bed knowing that you have a 7 am shift tomorrow.

“Do you want to talk about it?” The kindness of your heart outweighs all else, but you cross your fingers and secretly hope that his answer is no just so you can finally get some shut-eye.

“Uhm… I wouldn’t want to bother you.” His voice wavers. He sounds tired, but maybe it’s the exhaustion from navigating the rocky waters of a relationship. You’ve been there before.

Everyone’s been there before.

Your eyes are closed, and just when you think you can go back to bed, your mind and heart betray you.

“I wouldn’t be bothered,” you tell him, “I’m already awake too.”

His chest rumbles with a true chuckle this time. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t even worry about it. I’m probably gonna invest in some ear plugs tomorrow,” you quip, waving it off.

“You really don’t have to,” he deadpans. There’s a pregnant pause, and you’re left confused. He continues with a shaky breath, “I’m not sure we’ll be back together after this.”

Now you’re even more confused. Were they not just ravaging one another moments ago?

“Valentine's Day is coming up next Friday…” you muse. “You could still win her back, you know?”

The radiator whirs in the background. It’s silent.

“Do you love her?” You query, thumbing the pilled edges of your blanket.

“That’s a loaded question.”

Now it’s your turn to stay silent.

“I think I do,” he starts. His voice is rough. “Love her— I mean.” He falters in uncertainty. “Sorry, I’ve never admitted it to myself before.”

“That’s okay.” It’s a weak attempt to comfort him, but the situation is totally out of your hands. You don’t even know the full picture, yet it somehow feels like you’re on the other side of the breakup even though you’re just sitting in the audience, watching, or rather hearing, the drama unfold.

Your fingers interlock with one another, resting over your chest as you lie flat on your back. The heavy weight of your heart sinks lower into your stomach. Maybe love isn’t real, or maybe it’s not meant for people like you and him. Or is it just some misconstrued concept jumbled up in your brain? Some romanticized notion you’ve only ever dreamed about or seen in movies and read in fanfiction?

You gulp, pondering over how things could possibly go wrong in their seemingly perfect relationship. Well, there are millions of reasons, but maybe you’ve only ever heard the good times roll. Days when they’re frolicking in a meadow of sunshine and nights when they’re singing and dancing and laughing, head over heels in love, and everything is just peachy perfect. Maybe the bad and the dirty have yet to expose itself to you, still hidden behind an extra layer of stucco drywall and eggshell paint coatings. No matter how many times you bitch about them, the innermost part of you is still rooting for the couple you’ve had the displeasure of listening to have sex every night. But it’s always worth it, or so you think, for the sake of them being in a good place. To be undoubtedly quote unquote in love—

“Have you ever been in love?” It surprises you that he’s the one asking instead of the other way around.

You stare blankly at the ceiling with a racing heart. Biting your lip, you speculate whether or not you should reveal such intimate details about your life to a total stranger.

“Nope,” you shake your head. He can’t see you, but you hope that your response is convincing enough.

“Would you want to?”

You can’t help but scoff. “Yeah, what kind of question is that?”

“You’re right, it was stupid.” He chuckles. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you warn him, “You don’t have to.”

“Sorr—”

“If you finish that sentence, I’ll personally come over and flick you on the forehead,” you say, reprimanding him.

His laughter is even sweeter than his voice. “Harsh. But nice? I guess?”

That’s the perfect description for someone who works in the service industry, which unfortunately, you do.

“It’s for your own good,” you suggest, nodding your head in self indulgent pleasure. Kind of like how avoiding love is for your own good.

The silence quickly settles in, as does the existential dread. Your eyes shift around to the empty apartment before you, and you soon realize that you’re painfully alone.

The radiator goes off again and the clock ticks perpetually. The moment escapes you.

His voice fills up the room. “Can I ask how you’re doing?”

The corner of your lips curl up in a fond smile. You exhale a deep sigh, one of contemplation. “I’m okay… Just... learning how to deal with unrequited love.”

“Harsh,” he echoes back.

“Yeah.” You curl up on your side, sighing and reaching for a pillow to spoon.

“Want to talk about it?”

You gnaw on your lip. It’s a bad habit to have. “There’s not much to talk about. It’s just some guy who always walks in at work. We make small talk, flirt a little bit, and then he leaves until the next day.” A highlight reel flashes before you, and you tug on your blanket, nuzzling into the warm fabric that offers you some semblance of comfort against the outside world as you dig your nose into the soft linen.

“How do you know he doesn’t like you?”

You shrug to yourself. “It’s just a feeling.”

You think the conversation is over at this point. Moments go by until your ears perk up at the faint sound of his voice. “You should ask him out.”

Your neighbor surely seems to enjoy making a fool out of you. It’s a nice thought to have though. To think that you have the confidence to ask a guy out. The guy you’re crushing on, no less.

You satiate your neighbor anyways just to entertain the idea a little longer and give him a little push towards his own love story. “Only if you make amends with your girlfriend though.”

“Girlfriend? Oh— no, she’s not my girlfriend,” he says in defense.

You’re perplexed. “Wh-? She’s not?”

“No... uh, just friends with benefits,” he confesses with a cough.

Flashbacks start to go off in your head as you try to connect the dots like some mathematical formula. Is love actually an illusion? Maybe love knows no labels, but a small part of you still wants to believe that they’re wholeheartedly in love and on the verge of marriage or something. But that delusion instantaneously bursts into dust and ashes, confirmed by none other.

“Hey, I’m kind of tired, so I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? I’ll make it right with her so long you talk to the guy.” He lets out a huff. “Don’t let him miss out on a good thing because of the what ifs.”

Comfort washes over you at the sound of his advice. In a way, he’s right. Maybe it’s time that you put yourself out there in spite of the possibilities. Even if it’s utterly terrifying.

“Goodnight,” you mumble back, wrapping your arms securely around the pillow.

He hears you loud and clear, “Goodnight. Thanks for the talk.”

He knocks out soon after that, but it’s hard for you to sleep when you’ve got nothing but love on the brain.

Waking up is hell, especially when you’re running on nothing but 0 hours of sleep and a single cup of black coffee. The only thing that makes the fatigue worth it is the peaceful lull at sunrise and the absence of your noisy neighbor’s daily blowjob. It’s as if some higher power read your mind and decided that you’re worth the divine intervention just for that one fleeting moment of jubilation.

But just like the law of gravity, for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction, and your contract with the universe calls for some cosmic karma. It’s like you’re being punished because you can never seem to catch a break.

Work is unusually hectic, but with Valentine’s Day around the corner, it’s expected. If Black Friday is the worst nightmare for every retail worker, one can imagine a florist’s week leading up to Single’s Awareness Day, or much less commonly referred to as “A Shallow, Capitalistic Attempt to Buy Affection Day.”

Despite owning a flower shop, you still stand firmly against Valentine’s Day and all that it represents. Maybe you’re spiteful because you’re pitifully single and surrounded by lovey dovey mush at every single corner. But as of right now, it has more to do with the extra workload that lies at your feet.

Not only do you have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn to open shop and prepare for the deliveries, but you also have to cut and process flowers, organize dozens of overnight orders, and arrange bouquets for the day’s purchases, all before 9am. The to-do list is endless, and not to mention, the number of calls you’ve picked up in the last hour alone has already backed you up on a number of orders. It’s stressful and incredibly time consuming to say the least.

By 10am, you’re ready to call it quits, but you constantly remind yourself that this job is your only source of income, and therefore, you have to barrel through with a bright and shining customer service smile on your face.

At this point, you really wish you did smother yourself with your pillow last night.

But the only thing that keeps your sanity in tact after the morning rush is the chance to make arrangements for the front display. It’s therapeutic to pick and choose foliage, sprucing them into beautiful pieces of art for passersby to enjoy. You’re grateful for the scent of seeded eucalyptus and baby’s breath which is remedial to your burgeoning headache. Even the sight of your favorite carnation is enough to ease the pounding pain against your skull.

However, making arrangements isn’t all sunshine and flowers despite popular belief. The worst part about it is the heavy lifting. It’s labor intensive to pick up large plants like the full sized leatherleaf fern in the back room, which is now carefully lodged into a concoction of gardening soil, compost, mulch, and active charcoal. But if nobody else is going to do it, you’re going to have to do it alone.

Lifting the hefty plant isn’t difficult to begin with, but it progressively becomes taxing when you have to carry it to the front of the store. As you emerge from the back door, the bell of the entrance chimes, signifying a customer’s presence.

You can hear him before you can even see him.

“Good morning!”

You nearly jolt at the sound of his chipper voice. Of course Jimin had to walk in at the peak moment of you struggling, looking like a disheveled mess with soil accumulated in your hair like a burrowed nest. You just hope and pray that it’s not smeared across your forehead like Simba.

Out of pure embarrassment, you hold the pot higher to hide your burning cheeks behind the plant despite your arms giving out. Would all of your problems disappear if you act like you’re not there? Once again, of course not, because he spots you in an instant, and you’re just not fated to have the good things in life.

He calls out your name before stopping to place his things down at the table and rushing over to you, “Here, let me help you with that.”

You have an ironclad grip on that ceramic pot, holding on to it as if it’s life or death. “No, it’s okay, I got it,” you say out of pure, frantic determination.

“Don’t be silly, let me.” He reaches for the bottom of the earthenware. His hand grazes over yours before you can pull away, shifting the responsibility onto him.

You offer him a grateful smile that extends your eyes, and he sends one back your way.

“Where do you want it?” He asks. You can’t even get a word in before he turns on his heels and makes space for you through the narrow aisle.

Leading the way, you show him the spot you’ve marked for the fern to hopefully reside for the next 24 hours. “Here’s good,” you tell him, pointing to the empty tile.

Jimin bends down and gently places the plant into its new home. Then he reaches into his messenger bag, pulling out a packet of tissues before gravitating towards the spray bottle.

“I’m a big girl, you know? I could do it myself,” you whine with a slight pout.

He grips on your right shoulder, and you’re locked in place. “I know, but I want to help,” he says with the utmost care, “And you can ask me for help whenever you need it, you know?” Jimin smiles at you, and his eyes lower into crescent moon shapes, the corners slightly creasing. Before you know it, there’s a cool sensation on your forehead. The tissue in his hand is thoroughly saturated and now damp against your skin. You recoil on contact and reach for Jimin’s wrist, ready to yell at him for the lack of warning.

“Hey!”

“Stay still, you have soil on you,” he alerts with sharp eyes.

You let go of his wrist and give in to his kind gesture, murmuring out a “fine”.

While he concentrates on cleaning you up, you can’t help but look up and lock your eyes on his. You swear you could spontaneously combust and astral project from the intensity of his stare. His close proximity makes you heat up, so you’re forced to avert your eyes elsewhere out of pure intimidation. Your line of sight meets his lips, and you’re stuck in place, staring at them. They’re so pink and plush, and his tongue even pokes out a little like a sleepy kitten with slack jaw. Most of all, they’re right there in front of you, and if you could just lean in a little more, you’d be this closeー

“All clean!” He says with cheer, tapping your shoulder.

He turns around in search of the dustbin, and you shake yourself out of your own daydream before he can catch sight of you.

You laugh it off and offer him a toothy smile, “If you really want to help, you could have gotten me a cup of coffee.”

“You’re making demands now, huh?” He asks.

“It’s more like a suggestion than anything,” you teasingly yell from the back room, grabbing the remaining flowers for the display. Meanwhile, Jimin lingers behind in the main room, admiring the freshly cut flowers laid out on the counter ready to be made into floral arrangements.

You manage to recompose yourself from that one moment of weakness by taking a glance over at the cute doodles of artwork that line your office wall. They’re little bits of happiness that keep you calm and remind you that there’s light in your life, and he’s standing in the other room waiting for you to pop a very important question.

Upon grabbing the necessary items, you make your way back into the store. You stop immediately in your tracks, nearly colliding into a solid figure at the sharp turn of the doorway. Your heart almost stops, but you shudder away before you could tip yourself over.

Jimin stands in front of you with his hand extended out, clenching onto a steaming, white paper cup.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of me and coffee now,” he laughs, reaching out once again, “Only one of us bites.”

“That’s for me?” You ask incredulously.

He nods his head, “Yeah, of course, silly.”

You take the drink from his hands, and before you can thank him, he chimes in. “It’s just how you like it. Black and full of caffeine.”

You press your lips up against the cup, taking a sip and humming in satisfaction at the drops of heaven. “Thanks, but why? And how’d you know my coffee order? Don’t get me wrong, this is really nice, but…”

“I saw how dead you looked yesterday,” he justifies cutting you off before you can ramble on. Honest, but harsh.

You put the cup back on the counter and continue with your task at hand, and he trails behind you.

“Thanks, that’s what every girl wants to hear,” you banter with all the sarcasm you can muster, pulling at the flower stems despite them already being placed exactly where you want them.

“Girls like it when guys pay attention to the little details, don’t they?” He asks with a gleam in his irises.

You look up at him briefly before averting his eyes and wiping clean the leaves on a near fiddle leaf tree, spraying food soil at its roots.

“Love it,” you gulp wryly.

Jimin takes note of how seemingly busy you are, so he walks around the shop, examining the new inventory of flowers. After making your round through the store, watering all the plants that need to be watered, you return to the disembodied zinnia on the counter, waiting to be arranged.

The silence is refreshing until it isn’t.

“Is the coffee good?” He queries.

“Huh?” You stop what you’re doing to casually glance his way. His back is turned to you, but he seems overly invested in the rose display.

“The coffee,” he repeats, back still turned.

You look at the untouched cup at the edge of the table and smile to yourself. You didn’t notice it before, but there’s a red doodle that contrasts against the white paper cup, no doubt customized by Jimin himself. It’s hard to pick out what it is exactly, but you’d recognize the flowers of God any day. The ruffled petals and thin, straight stem are simply unmistakable.

“Oh, yeah. It’s good,” you answer politely.

“What’s your favorite kind of flower?” He asks curiously as if he’s playing a game of 21 questions. It’s a question you’ve answered numerous times before, but facts like these can easily slip through someone’s mind.

“Easy, carnations,” you respond without any hesitation, pointing at the display in the right corner of the store when he turns around to look at you. He makes his way to the stand, eyeing the flowers.

“They’re pretty,” he comments, pulling out one of the bouquets to examine as if he didn’t already know.

You hum, and maybe the exhaustion is evident in your voice and your oddly scarce exchange of pleasantries.

Jimin carries on with the small talk anyways. “You’ve been sleeping okay?”

You snip away at the hard, green stems, tossing them into the trash beside you. Shrugging, you mindlessly answer. “Yeah, as much as a florist can during Valentine’s week.” You snicker with good spirit.

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t rest well,” he scolds you all in good faith, eyes now scanning the small assortment of cards. You hum in affirmation.

If anything, he should be telling that to your noisy neighbor who refuses to let you get a wink of sleep.

A creak rings through the air as Jimin rotates the card stand, thumbing through the variety. “Do you have plans for Valentine’s Day by the way?”

You can feel your hands clam up as they stop fiddling with the lemon leaves. Your heartbeat picks up, and you’re left winded by the question. You hide behind the hesitation, nervous as to where this may lead. How could you possibly play it cool when your crush asks you whether or not you’re busy on arguably the most romantic holiday of the year?

Play it cool because remember, you loathe Valentine’s Day.

Your hands fumble as you pick up the lemon leaves again, snipping at the branches nonchalantly. “Uh, no, not really, you?” you gulp. Your eyes are distracted, too fixed on the greenery.

But you look up the moment Jimin approaches the counter with flowers in one hand and a card in another.

“Oh, who are these for?” you feign innocence in your voice as you reach for the brown kraft paper and the roll of red ribbon.

Jimin scratches the back of his neck, hesitating. “My girlfriend,” he mumbles, but it’s loud and clear, audible enough for you to apprehend like an echo in you ear.

“I don’t have much planned yet, but we’re probably going to grab dinner on Friday,” he shrugs with hands burrowed in his pockets. He shifts his weight on the balls of his feet, eyes focused on the gray specks of the ceramic tiles beneath him. “Something casual. I’m not really huge on the whole Valentine’s Day thing.”

It seems like every man in your life paints you like a giant fool destined for humiliation. Of course the hopelessly hopeless romantic within you deluded yourself into believing that some Prince Charming would visit your flower shop in anticipation of seeing you. Of course the flowers that he buys everyday has to go somewhere, you just never expected that each and every morning at the crack of dawn, the flowers you carefully hand-pick and wrap with unconditional love would be sent off to his girlfriend.

Of course you’re a huge idiot who isn’t destined for love.

It almost hurts to plaster the tight lipped smile on your face when your heart is prickled with thorns like the roses in your hands.

You lick your lips and painfully gulp the spit down your dry throat before you open your mouth again.

“Jimin?”

“Yeah?”

You pause. “You can’t give these to your girlfriend”

His eyebrows furrow and his hands run through his hair. “What do you mean?”

“They’re white roses.”

“So? She likes white flowers.” He doesn’t seem to get the point.

You almost chuckle in his face, and you would have if your heart didn’t hurt so damn much. So you refrain. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that white flowers are meant for funerals?”

His cheeks are dusted with a pink blush. He shakes his head no. “Uh, what do you suggest I give her then?”

You sigh, looking at the hopeless man in front of you. “Do you love her?” Not even a second goes by before you ramble, not very eager to hear the answer. “You could uh- give her that fern you helped me carry earlier.” You walk back to the front display, keeping a safe distance to hide your woe, extending your arms out like a game show host revealing what’s hidden behind door #1. (Hint: it’s your heart).

“Call it your love fern?” you shrug, laughing it off.

“I think a bouquet is fine.” Jimin staggers behind you, checking out the other flower displays, opting for door #2. “How about the carnations you mentioned?” He pulls out a bouquet of variegated carnations painted with pink and red tips. “These are nice, don’t you think?” He looks at you curiously with doe eyes in await of your approval.

Your mouth opens to interject, ready to digress into another lesson on the history of variegated carnations, but you bite your tongue back.

Jimin spots your reluctance, but quickly puts it to rest. “Look, I don’t think she really cares about the meaning behind the flowers. You said these are your favorite, and you’re the expert right?”

You nod, unable to trust your voice. “Mhmm.” Even your hum cracks. “But uh, maybe the deep red ones would be more appropriate?” You cock your head to the side and quirk your eyebrow.

“It’s fine, I swear” he reassures you, placing the bouquet on the counter before putting the white roses back in its stand.

Your feet refuse to move as if they’re cemented to the ground, but Jimin stands there in front of you with rosy eyes, awaiting for you to wrap up the object of his affection in a pretty red bow. So how could you refuse?

You walk past the carnation display on the way to the counter, and pick up another bouquet. Pink and red variegated. “Here, these are a little more fresh. The buds are tighter, so in a few days, you’ll see them nice and big.” You smile, closed lipped. “Just in time for Valentine’s Day.”

Jimin’s jaw loosens and his lips part. He knits his brow in a frown. “Uh, these aren’t actually meant for Valentine’s Day,” he says, running his hand through his perfectly imperfect raven hair. “She’s kind of mad at me right now,” he gives a mirthless chuckle while playing with his hands, “so I’m hoping I can make it up to her with this.”

Ah, your favorite flowers are reduced to nothing but a gift of pity.

“She’d be crazy not to accept your apology,” you say in a soft voice, gritting your teeth behind your tense jaw, eyes fixated on the little nursling in your hold. With a soft hand, you unravel the kraft paper and delicately wrap it around the bouquet. The very one you picked up this morning and arranged the hour prior, wondering if you’ll be able to send it off to a loving home.

Now you know for a fact that it’ll be in good hands.

“Do you think she’d like it?” Jimin chirps in.

It feels like your heart is on the threshold of bleeding out as he sends another prickle to the soft organ. Your concentration doesn’t even falter as you snip the ribbon.

“I know she will.”

You tie the fabric into the prettiest bow you can muster and slide the gift of love across the glass counter. Jimin looks down at the beautifully wrapped flowers with an ear to ear smile on his face. “Thank you so much for the help, I really appreciate it.”

“Just doing my job,” you remind him with a counterfeit smile, scanning the barcode at the back of the card. It’s a really cute card too. Sometimes I wonder how you put up with me then I remember I put up with you. So we’re even ❤️

You hate yourself for the fond smile you almost crack, masked behind the pained one you send his way.

Jimin passes you a $20 bill and grabs his merchandise from the table.

“She’s really lucky to have you,” you lament honestly with glistening eyes as he walks out the front door.

He doesn’t catch a word you say, but he manages to shout back a “thank you!” and a “see you tomorrow!” before speeding out, setting off the bell at the top of the door without ever looking back at your dejected figured.

You’re left alone to finish the rest of the work day, surrounded by none other than the sickly, sweet scent of seeded eucalyptus and baby’s breath, all while taking in the putrid sight of variegated carnations.

They say that you are your worst enemy, and they are 110% correct on the matter. You don’t know why you would think that you’d have a good day on the basis of your neighbor having a crummy one. It’s not like there’s some kind of transfer of energy. It’s been proven to you time and time again that divine intervention and karmic justice just aren’t real, and apparently, neither is science. Otherwise, by that logic, you’d have a superb day.

You would have slept through last night and woken up to a pretty pink sunrise painted across the sky— nothing but peace. To the chirping of birds in the distance and to the passing of cars on an empty street. You would have had enough time to prepare a proper breakfast— pancakes, eggs, bacon, and maybe even a nice cup of hot chocolate. Not a measly cup of black coffee to keep you awake for the rest of the busy day. You would have had a nice chat with Jimin at the flower shop about the capitalistic corruption of Valentine’s Day while he’d try to convince you otherwise. He’d prove you wrong, and you would have walked home with a blooming garden in your heart.

But science is bullshit and the transfer of energy is a complete lie— photosynthesis being the only exception. The only thing you got out of today was a huge migraine and a withering blossom in your chest.

So just when you think that the day could not get any worse, it absolutely does.

You can probably blame the poor mindset you boxed yourself in— having a cynical outlook on love and life because of the dreaded upcoming holiday. Maybe it was because your crush just stomped all over your garden and plucked the flowers to give to some other girl. Or, you can put the blame on past you, the big freaking idiot who previously stripped off her bed sheets at 6:30 in the morning in hopes of being productive by doing weeks of piled up laundry. At this point, all you want to do is curl up in a warm bed, too exhausted by the trials and tribulations of life, but you can’t even give yourself the satisfaction of that because you thought you were some kind of changed woman who could manage her stupid laundry.

Newsflash, you’re not.

The naked mattress in the corner of your apartment mocks you, so grudgingly, you take your laundry basket down to the laundry room for your most hated chore. With heavy steps, you trudge through the cold, cement basement. It’s dark and dingy down there. A little scary too, given the flickering lightbulb at the end of the hallway. Nevertheless, you march through the doors and into the rumbling alcove.

What you find in there is startling, yet you can’t say that you’re surprised seeing that this occurrence is far from rare. You almost consider walking back upstairs and knocking on your floormate’s door, asking him if he’d be willing to do your laundry in exchange for $5 just so you don’t have to sit there, listening to some couple make out in the back corner.

Apparently, everyone in the world is foolishly in love except for you.

You crank up the volume a little louder so your cheap headphones can drown out the sound of them locking lips with one another, but the poor quality does absolutely nothing for your abused ears. The boisterous public display of affection is deafening over the sound of your “Wallowing in Self Pity” playlist.

You’re only capable of catching a brief glance in their direction before gagging and veering off. She’s sitting atop of the washing machine as he stands between her parted legs. They’re so lost in their own world that they don’t even notice your presence.

Out of respect for yourself and the horny couple, you choose to occupy a washing machine at the opposite corner of the laundry room. But perhaps you can save yourself the irritation as well as the $5 in your wallet because you can hear their hushed whispers. They’ve separated themselves long enough for the guy to convince her to move to a more private location. Although she still leeches herself onto his neck, he’s attentive enough to know that they aren’t alone. He picks her up and drags her out of the laundry room with her legs wrapped around his waist, unwilling to part from him as if holding his hand simply isn’t enough.

You roll your eyes, thankful for the quietude and the money you’ve saved yourself, but as you sit alone in the drafty basement, doing the chore you hate the most, you can’t help but think how much better it would be to do it with someone else at your side.

Somehow you’re convinced that crossing paths with Jeongguk in the hallway is fated after thinking about him moments prior. Because it’s very uncommon for that boy to leave his apartment, cooping up all day long with his video games, only to catch a breath of fresh air for his nightly gym sessions. When you see him locking up his apartment door, you offer him $5 anyways just out of the kindness of your heart. He could probably use the money more than you anyways.

Although you didn’t have any intention of doing a good deed today, karma still finds a way to punish you. As always, it’s bullshit.

Upon entering your empty apartment, the space is already filled with the sonorous sounds of orchestral music. Violins, violas, cellos, flutes, oboes, and harps all performing in perfect harmony. It’s played through the walls, coming from none other than the speakers of your beloved neighbor. You wouldn’t mind the soothing classical melodies to cure your migraine so long it’s accompanied by white noise. But your neighbor’s laughter rings above the music as you can hear him count “1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3” in a triple metre.

You know that he’s not alone because there’s also another voice laughing alongside him. The same one you’ve grown accustomed to over the months. Her high pitched squeals are unmistakable as they greatly resemble other sounds you’ve heard come from her mouth on many unfortunate nights. So you can safely assume that your neighbor and his not-girlfriend made up with one another already—

“Look at me, not at your feet!”

“I don’t know where to put them!”

“You’re stepping on my toes!”

“Sorry!”

“Oh yeah, you’ll be sorry!”

It’s hard to picture what’s happening behind the wall when you don’t have faces to match with the voices. But you don’t really need it when their bed slat creaks beneath their weight and their headboard slams against your shared wall. Not when her yelps erupt as a result of the tickle fest they’re currently immersed in. The sounds are vivid enough for you to know much more than you need to know. It almost feels like you’re intruding on an intimate moment that’s not meant for your eyes, let alone your ears.

Meanwhile, as you struggle to tuck the fitted sheets beneath the four corners of your mattress, you wonder whether it’s worth it to leave the apartment again after such a hard day. Of course for the sole purpose of avoiding a home made porn video being filmed in the process.

Maybe it’s not too late, and you can still catch up to Jeongguk. You could head to the gym and snatch back the $5 you generously handed him because the more you think about it, the more you believe that someone owes you for your miserable time spent in this apartment complex. But you can’t take your anger out on the poor boy from down the hall when he doesn’t deserve it.

The sanctuary of your bed calls your name like a siren, so instead, you do what you’re forced to always do— plug in your cheap headphones, blare out some music, and move on with your day.

And it works for the most part.

You’re able to successfully put on your bed sheets after struggling to play a big game of tug of war with your mattress. Despite the internal push and pull, you also will yourself to do adult things like tidying up the studio, making the space somewhat habitable for humans. By 9pm, you can finally sit down and enjoy a nice, hot meal. However, you’re forced to keep your headphones on because your neighbor’s not-girlfriend decided that she couldn’t go a single day without her not-boyfriend’s dick in her mouth.

You swear you’re going to ask him tonight why he hasn’t made it official because it’s clear as day that they’re in love with one another. You know that you definitely would be if someone offered you oral every single day. Unfortunately, nobody’s offering. Thus, you’re forced to live vicariously.

So as midnight approaches, and the moon reaches its apex, you settle into bed with a book in hand, ready to suffer through the night. It’s difficult to concentrate on the text when your music is blasting, but you suppose it’s better to listen to lo-fi hip hop beats as opposed to the scream of “daddy” over and over and over…

Although you applaud her for her shamelessness, you would still prefer if she could keep to herself.

Thankfully, these moments are only temporary.

With your eyes squeezed shut, you let out a lethargic yawn. Looking over at your nightstand, you spot your ticking alarm clock. It’s nearing 1 in the morning, and you decide that you’re exhausted. Well, you’ve decided that long ago, but going to bed before midnight is admitting defeat against your own body. Nevertheless, no matter how tired you are, you know in the back of your mind that there’s no way you could have dozed off with your neighbors going on a Netflix binge with speakers fully blaring audio from The Office. It’s as if they don’t know what headphones are.

But after “one more episode” and a disgustingly long makeout session, you can hear the shuffle of feet across the floor boards and the turning of the lock.

It’s nearly 2 am, and the radiator hisses. It’s quiet.

But then that’s when you hear it like clockwork. The delicate hum before the pleasant tune. Tonight, it’s not a song you’re familiar with. Something about the universe moving and happiness that’s meant to be. Mentions of penicillium and a calico cat? There’s lots of talk about letting someone love you, and that’s when it really hits you in the gut. You’re not so sure about the song, but as always, it sounds pretty. It’s not typical to call a guy’s voice beautiful, but it is what it is. It’s serene, and it’s the promise of tomorrow. It’s something you wish that would never stop.

But of course all good things come to an end.

There’s a purposeful knock against the wall which startles you. “Hey, I know you’re up. How’d your day go?” Your neighbor asks, breaking the silence and dragging your attention towards his voice once again.

You tug your headphones off and walk to the other side of the apartment to lay your book down on the desk, gracefully avoiding anything in your wake because your apartment is finally clean.

“You know, sometimes I wish you would catch me on my good days so I wouldn’t have to tell you such sad stories.” A wary smile surfaces your lips.

“Why, what happened today?” He asks with concern laced in every syllable. “Did you take my advice?”

You climb back into bed, pulling your covers over your torso. Sometimes you feel bad about how many silent complaints you have about your neighbor when he’s actually a really nice guy. He just lacks the proper etiquette knowing that the walls are paper thin.

“IIIIIII tried to.” You drag out the vowel, hesitant to recall the embarrassing story.

“Yeah, and how’d it go?”

“He doesn’t like me back,” you say plainly after a moment’s reflection.

Your neighbor scoffs. “He’s an idiot then.”

You try to fight back the smile because as untrue as it is, Jimin is anything but an idiot. But it’s comforting to know that someone has your back, defending you in all your honor.

This time, you genuinely chuckle. “It’s not that.... He uh, actually has a girlfriend.” It hurts to admit it out loud. “And I’m sure she’s lovely if he likes her that much.”

“Like I said, he’s an idiot for losing out on the best thing in his life.”

It’s impossible for you to fight back this bashful smile because it makes your heart flutter. This may be the first time you’ve felt good about yourself this whole day.

“Thanks, but I don’t know about that though—”

He interrupts you, “Come on, don’t say that. You’re not giving yourself enough credit.”

You shake your head in disbelief, “You’ve never even met me, and you don’t even know what I look like.” You roll your eyes, but a chuckle unintentionally falls from your lips.

“It’s not about what’s on the outside, okay? I already know you’re beautiful because that’s what you are on the inside.”

“Shut up, that’s so cheesy.” You flip over on your bed and dig your face into the pillow, flustered by his kind words. There’s absolutely no way people this nice exist in this world. “I could be a troll or a vampire or something for all you know.”

“Vampires are kinda hot. Haven’t you seen Twilight?” He banters. “And I’m sure this guy isn’t even all that great. Like, tell me something you hate about him.”

Your hands cover your mouth, stifling a laugh. “I’m not gonna hate on him because he doesn’t like me back. It’s just the reality of it. Besides, he’s perfect.” You roll your eyes, annoyed by how flawless Jimin is in your eyes.

Your neighbor prods at you. “I reaaallly doubt that. There has to be something. Not even a pet peeve? Maybe he’s chronically late to everything? Sings out loud in a quiet place? Has a super annoying laugh?”

“Yes, yes, and no.” You flip your pillow over to the cold side and settle in to lie in a more comfortable position, slipping your hand beneath the cushion. “I can excuse the lateness,” you lick your chapped lips. “He also sings like an angel, and his laugh is really endearing. He does this thing where he laughs with his whole body, and he falls over every time. I like it because I know he’s at his happiest then,” you remember zealously.

“Damn, I guess I’m just projecting my own flaws now, huh?” You can hear him snort from laughter, rolling his neck and cracking the joints in his body, and then the click of his knuckles, 10 of them, one after another.

“Ugh,” you scrunch your nose, “Don’t do that. He does it too, and I guess that’s the only thing he does that really gets to me.”

Your neighbor cracks another joint somewhere on his body just to annoy you, and you cringe. “See, now we’re talking.”

“I was gonna tell you that you sing well too and that I like your laugh, but maybe I’ll have to reconsider,” you taunt. “But still, you shouldn’t put yourself down for the things that show off your happiness.”

The bed creaks from the other side. He must have switched positions for that to happen. “Thanks,” he offers. His voice is muffled, face most likely pressed up against his own pillow. “How about you tell me about the things you like about him?”

“What? Are you trying to wound me?” You ask, slightly hurt.

He scoffs, “No, I’m trying to prove a point here. So, tell me.” He implores like this is some kind of couple’s therapy session. Apparently, without your other half.

As moonlight filters through your curtains and the cars whiz by on the empty street below you, you consider all the things you love and appreciate about Jimin.

“I love how selfless he is. He’s caring and attentive... He’ll know when I’m tired and he’ll offer me coffee. He also scolds me for sleeping late and he lifts my burdens for me, even when I don’t ask him to.” You close your eyes in retrospect of Jimin and all the good things in life that he embodies. “It’s not even the things that he does for me that make me like him.”

Your neighbor hums, letting you continue.

“I guess it’s the principle that’s important.” You play with the sleeves of your sweatshirt, pulling on the edges to give yourself some comfort. “There are people in this world who aren’t… the nicest? I guess. And… he’s one of the purest people I know. It’s like he goes the extra mile to make sure I’m happy… and healthy.” You take a deep sigh before your mind wanders to the darker parts of your brain. “But I also know he treats everyone else like that too. Because he’s that nice. So... I guess I should have seen it coming that I wasn’t so special anyways,” you recall with tears welling up in the brim of your eyes and a knot tightening in your throat.

“Don’t say that, you’re one of a kind,” he assures you sternly, “What’s his name? I’ll go beat him up right now.”

You give a bitter laugh, wiping away at your eyes with the back of your hands.

“My point is that there are other guys out there who are just as caring. And they should make you feel special because you are, and it’s what you deserve. So if the next guy who comes along doesn’t treat you that way, I will beat his ass, okay?” He says in the most nonthreatening voice ever.

You chortle, “Okay, yeah, sure.” You’re not totally convinced of that.

“You’re probably right, I don’t want to fight and embarrass myself after promising you that,” he giggles.

“I appreciate the sentiment though.” Earnestly, you do. You don’t know many guys who are this nice, Jimin being the exception. “How ‘bout you though? It sounds like you made up with your not-girlfriend? I hope that wasn’t you in the laundry room earlier,” you tease, deflecting the attention away from you with a raised voice.

He gladly takes the bait. “Oh shit, that was you? I’m so sorry.” He rolls around the bed in a fit of sweet laughter, and the slat creaks. “And yeah, we did,” he breathes out with a shallow huff after regaining composure. He sounds nonchalant about it.

“You don’t sound very happy?”

“No, I am,” he deadpans.

You wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t. “Can you tell me what it is that you like about her?” You ask.

He doesn’t answer immediately like you’d expect, but he’s dwelling on the answer.

“I love how kind hearted she is,” he thinks out loud. “She’s a natural nurturer.”

You can hear the smile in his voice, and you can’t help but reciprocate because of how pure that is.

“Like... she’s always so bright, and…” he stops. “I just don’t know how to explain it. You’d have to meet her to know what I mean.”

“Yeah you should invite me over so I can meet her.” You both chuckle knowing that you should meet one another before meeting his fuck buddy.

“I think you’d like her actually. She has this beautiful soul… I- I don’t even know. She just sees the best in everyone. I know that she probably has her own struggles, but I don’t think she’ll ever let anyone know about them,” he mulls over, going on a tangent.

“Why’s that?” You curl up on your side, hugging your pillow like you do during every conversation with him. It’s as if he’s recalling a bedtime story for you. You let out another yawn, and although you’re on the verge of falling asleep, you stay up a little longer just to hear him talk.

“I’m not so sure why… I guess I love her and hate her for this...” He reflects.

You hum, acknowledging him while urging him to continue his train of thought.

“I don’t know... but she’s the type to suffer in silence for the sake of seeing other people around her smile. And… I don’t think she’ll ever admit when she’s hurt or when she needs help. She puts others before herself. Like, she’s so hellbent on putting on a happy face so that others can be happy too.”

You nod to yourself, understanding what he means with every word.

“And It’s not like she fakes her happiness or anything,” he continues as if clarification is needed. “She’s just… such a joy to be around. She makes everyone feel welcomed… and comfortable… And when she’s really happy, like genuinely happy, it feels like everything is right in the world.”

You can tell he has a big, doting smile on his face. One simply cannot talk about a love like this and not smile.

“I only wish that she’d be vulnerable with me so I can make her world a little brighter too.”

“That’s really sweet, and also, I lowkey feel attacked right now,” you let out a dry chuckle.

“Sorry,” he laughs. “But I think that’s why you two would get along well.”

“Set up a date, and I’ll come over,” you joke with raised brows.

“Hmm… I’ll have to think about it,” he teases. “Oh, but uhm... if we’re still on the conversation of what I like about her, physically, I love her smile. I swear to God I stopped in my tracks the first time I saw her… and it still happens every time.”

“That’s cute,” you smile fondly.

“When she looks at me, I think the whole world stops for a second because I can actually feel myself get vertigo,” he giggles innocently. “And she’s also got this super adorable snort-laugh that never fails to bring out the best in me. God, it’s beyond cute, you don’t even know.”

“It sounds like you’re in love,” you suggest, curling up tighter into a ball, squeezing at your pillow. “I don’t see why you haven’t made it official yet.”

The pause is filled by the whirring of the radiator and the ticking of the clock.

“Yeah… I don’t know either.”

Waking up, you find out that going to bed with a broken heart is a little easier than going to bed with a hopeful one. Perhaps it’s the emotional exhaustion that puts you to rest, but it doesn’t mean you’re any less fatigued. All your efforts are put into your work, and in a way, tending to flowers has served as a distraction from the wilting ones that reside in your chest.

When in reality, you should find a way to revive those instead.

But as Jimin stands before you, you can’t resist the shriveled petals that land in the pit of your stomach like cherry blossoms in the midst of spring. You really don’t know how you manage to bear discourse about Valentine’s Day when he’s unknowingly sitting there with wide eyes, listening to you talk about unreciprocated love that’s so obviously directed towards him.

“You mean to tell me that you read romance novels and watch rom-coms, but you hate the most romantic holiday of the year?”

“Exactly,” you nod as if it’s indisputable.

He gives you a questioning look with a crease on his forehead and lips pressed together in a straight line. “Make it make sense,” he challenges.

You finish chewing on the forkful of salad you popped into your mouth before answering. “Can I rant about it?”

Jimin gives you the go ahead and you continue, “I don’t think you understand how much of a die-hard hopeless romantic I am.”

“Actually, I think I do,” he scoffs and raises his shoulders confidently with eyes closed as if it’s a matter of fact. “That doesn’t prove your point though,” he counters.

You put your hand up, motioning him to stop interrupting, “Let me finish.”

Jimin shrugs and grins from across the counter, allowing you to proceed.

“When I love something, I put my heart and soul into it. I believe in passion, chivalry, and true love.” He hums in agreement as you count down each item with your fingers as if it’s an unofficial list of all the things that encompass a hopeless romantic. “And for me, Valentine’s Day is a poor excuse to spend money and show off all the things you’ve received from your significant other.”

“That’s valid,” Jimin nods, agreeing while munching on his fries.

“Like, why spoil someone on this particular day? What happens during the other 364 days?” You spew.

Jimin mouths “365,” correcting you on the technicalities of a leap year.

You click your tongue, moving on to the point. “Are they not cherished for the rest of the year? I would hope that my boyfriend makes me feel special for more than a single night.” Your forehead creases, too livid at this point to even realize how sadly single you sound.

You’re too busy ranting, accidentally speaking over Jimin to hear him reassure you that you are special. “Also there’s just so much pressure to make the night special, as if they have to plan something, otherwise they’re not the ‘perfect couple’ or the ‘perfect man.’” You emphasize with air quotes.

“I felt that one,” he chuckles, shaking his head.

“You see my point now?” You acknowledge him sullenly. There’s a tug on your heartstrings at the mention of his girlfriend, but you drive your point forward in hopes of changing the direction of topics. You don’t even want to think about whether or not he’s made plans with his girlfriend yet.

“And what’s the deal with chocolates?” You yell, completely frustrated, throwing your arms up. “They’re totally overpriced. And cards? Cheesy and terrible. My Instagram feed? Flooded with PDA, and it's a big stab at singles like me.” You enunciate angrily, driving your fork harshly into your salad once again.

He laughs and nearly falls off the stool he’s sat on top of before swiftly catching himself. You snicker at his unadulterated cuteness.

“How ‘bout flowers?” He questions with ketchup lingering on the corner of his mouth.

Picking up a napkin from the edge of the counter, you mindlessly reach across to wipe at his lips, still in the process of ranting. “Don’t get me started on flowers,” you shake your head, folding up the napkin on the table. Jimin smiles at you as your eyes train on the fork that digs through your salad, stabbing into the poor vegetables. “Florists overcharge for them, and I hate it because I didn’t get into this business for the purpose of cheating people out of their money.” At this point, you’re rolling your eyes, seething at the thought of Valentine’s Day.

“Why’d you get into the business then?” He asks, silently offering his fries to you, the ones you’ve been eyeing ever since he revealed his lunch.

“Because I love flowers,” you say plain as day, reaching to grab a fry. “Because they make me happy, and when I send them off to someone, I know it’ll make their day a little brighter too.”

You wave the fry around in the air before sticking it in your mouth. Capping off your empty bowl of salad, you don’t seem to notice how Jimin looks at you and the understated beauty you exude.

“It’s cheesy, I know! You don’t have to look at me like I’m crazy,” you whine, briefly looking up at him with round eyes, turning around to toss your garbage.

Jimin flashes you a big, toothy smile, “No, you’re not crazy. You’re just... exactly what I thought you were.” His voice is low, almost as if he’s thinking to himself. As if they’re words you’re not meant to hear.

“Thanks? I think,” you giggle, unsure what he means. “Are you saying I’m predictable?” You inquire.

“I meant refreshing.” The crinkles at the corners of his eyes form as he grins. “I’m just trying to figure out why you don’t have a date for Valentine’s Day.”

“First of all, I don’t need a date,” you say in defense, teasingly offended.

“I know that, and you know what I mean. But you deserve to be treated like you’re speー”

“Second of all, I do have one.”

“Oh. You do?” He asks, creasing his brows and biting his plush lips.

“Yeah, with myself,” you jest with a smile, elbows resting on the counter with hands cupping your face.

Jimin’s chest deflates with an exhale, finally letting out the breath he’s been holding. “What, are you gonna watch The Notebook until you cry?” He pokes at your shoulder like a tease.

“I’m not that predictable,” you eye him with a gleam in your iris, fully knowing that it is the case. “But maybe,” you affirm with a sly smirk, “after I close up the shop at midnight though.”

“Knew it,” he scoffs. “But why are you closing so late? You should go home early so you can cry and watch The Notebook.”

“Mmm.” You hum, standing up from your stool and turning to hide the downturn of your lips. Running a rag underneath the faucet, you turn to wipe down the counter free of any crumbs. Jimin lifts his elbow up as you glide the cloth across the glass until it’s squeaky clean. “Let’s not forget that it’s Valentine’s Day, and I run a flower shop, Jimin. People are going to come by for a bouquet until the last second.” You exasperate, shaking your head in disapproval of all the last minute shoppers.

“You can’t get anyone else to lock up?” He suggests.

“They’ll hate me forever if I force them to work until midnight,” you reason, “Besides, it’s not like they’re single, so it’s fine. I can do it myself.”

“I really think you should be resting though. You haven’t been sleeping well lately, right?” He asks with concern in his intonation.

“I can take care of myself, I promise. I’m gonna treat myself after work anyways.” You do a little dance that consists of shimmying your shoulders and bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet.

He smiles at you endearingly with wide eyes, “I don’t think crying to The Notebook is a form of treating yourself.” He repeats as if the joke will never die.

You shake your head and click your tongue exclaiming, “If you must know, I’m gonna bake cookies.”

“Are you gonna share with me?” He pleads.

Your tongue pokes at your inner cheek as if you’re thinking about it. “Hmm, I don’t know. I might eat them all in one night.” Your lips purse in a taunt.

His mouth forms a pout, and you’re forced to give in to him and his bright puppy dog eyes.

“Ugh, fine, but only because you asked so nicely, I guess I can make some extras,” you groan, pressing your lips together straight like an arrow. You nudge his shoulder with your own despite the squeeze at your heart and the softening of your eyes, “For you and your girlfriend.”

It’s not like you had to mention it. But it’s been on your mind since yesterday, and you’re sure that the only way to fix a broken heart is to learn to accept it. Even if it means plucking out the thorns that are lodged in your heart until it feels numb. Empty and devoid of life.

“Girlfrie- oh, right, right. That’d be nice,” he sputters out, body stiffening, “Butー”

“Maybe I can bake them Thursday night?” You offer. “So you can pick them up on Friday if you buy flowers for her?” Your eyes blink in a failed attempt to wink.

Jimin stifles a laugh at your pitiful endeavor. It’s really pathetic how hard you try, pretending that you’re not hurt right in front of the guy who stormed into your garden.

But you suppose flowers can’t grow without a little bit of downpour.

He licks his lips, and his smile falters. “Riiight, but it’s okay, you should enjoy your cookies on Friday night because I’m not sure I’ll be around to buy flowers that day anyways.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, perplexed, head cocked to the side.

“Uh, don’t worry about it, okay?” He says, brushing it off before taking a look at his watch. “I have to head back to work though, my break is almost ending.” You watch him carefully with narrowing eyes as he collects his belongings, scrambling to head out the door. With the exit half opened, he turns around to bid you goodbye. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

The bell chimes and he’s out of sight.

You can’t even process his words because you’re too busy staring at the exit trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

Adulthood is just an endless cycle of sleeping and working, but it seems like you’re lacking in the former activity seeing that all you do is work. In the final stretch of Valentine’s Day, with a few more days to go, you’re just about ready to crash and burn.

Upon entering your quiet apartment tonight, you fail to do anything productive. You nose dive into bed and curl up into a cocoon at the strike of 10 pm. Somehow, you don’t even care enough to tug off your jeans or remove your smudged makeup. You’re ready to accept the consequences of bad skin and a stained pillowcase because the only thing that matters is that you knock out the moment your head hits the soft linen. There’s no time to replay the events of today or plan for tomorrow when your eyelids weigh you down into a deep slumber.

There’s not a single thing that can spur you. Not even the shining of the moonlight over your profile or the rhythmic whizzing of cars on the empty street beneath you. Even when there’s a police siren ringing in the distance or a rumble from a descending airplane in the atmosphere above you, you don’t bat an eye. You can’t even hear the hum of the rusty pipelines when your neighbor hops into the shower at the breach of dawn. Even the whirring radiator and the ticking clock blurs into nothing but white noise.

They’re all there to keep you company as you lie down in a bed of withered roses. To offer you comfort in your barren Renaissance garden.

You can’t seem to put your finger on it, but you wake up feeling like it’s the best night of rest you’ve gotten in the last week despite it being a short lived slumber. It’s definitely the most consistent night of sleep you’ve had in a while. And even though you went to bed without dinner, it didn’t hinder your sleep whatsoever. It only means that you can eat a full breakfast to power through the day.

And powering through is what you do best.

Apparently, the world is up against you because you can’t remember the last time you even got to sit down. You’re constantly on your feet, attending to customers and fulfilling orders. There’s no time to breathe even when you’re literally enclosed in a greenhouse. There’s always something to do, and stopping to take a break means slowing down the process. It’s not an option you want to take.

At the end of each day, you’re wobbling back home with sore muscles and blurred vision. Your ability to function is beyond your own imagination. Your definition of “functioning” has diminished to standing on your own two feet although that still bears a challenge for you.

The sustenance in your body is nearly nonexistent, especially because you’ve been neglecting your self-care. Typically, you don’t think about eating on the job. It’s honestly not on your mind because there are only two things that occupy your brain space: (1) Work and (2) Jimin.

Somehow, Jimin takes better care of you than you do yourself. And without him around, you’re a walking corpse. He’s always providing you with lunch and snacks, leaving you sticky notes with reminders to hydrate yourself. You didn’t realize that you needed him this much to remind you of the simple tasks like drinking or eating or… smiling.

Sometimes he draws cute flowers or scribbles plant puns on the post-it notes, sticking them onto obscure places that are hard for you to find. Your favorite one being the time he wrote “I love it when you call me big poppy.”

He claims that the notes are designed to make you laugh, even for the few that are not very funny. They definitely do brighten your day, especially when you have the ephemeral chance to glance at them hanging up above your desk in the back office. Smiling at the itty-bitty illustrations has become second nature to you. When you’re going through a rough day, aka everyday, and you’re in need of a breather, you wander into the back room to pace around, only to come face to face with a kaleidoscope of doodled butterflies spanned across a string of rainbow post it notes.

He once drew a sunflower and said something cheesy about how your laughter is the embodiment of sunshine— how it would be a crime against the flora population if you were to go a day without laughter.

It was corny and far from being right, but it was so perfectly Jimin.

When he does stupid shit like that, it makes you feel like the biggest lovesick idiot in the world. In your naive past, you thought that the smiles he sent your way were ones reserved for you and only you. You were convinced that the shameless flirting was a silent mechanism used to express his inclination towards you. You assumed that the daily visits to your flower shop were formidable attempts to get to know you better. A little part of you hoped that the songs he shared with you equated to sharing a piece of his heart.

You absolutely were sharing. You just didn’t realize that you’d be sharing with someone else.

So when Jimin consigns adorable puns that melt your heart, and he stops by with a cup of coffee, just know that they’re acts of friendship. When he spends his lunch breaks at the flower shop and sings songs that remind him of you, he’s coming from a place of kindness, not attraction.

It is true that Jimin’s your sunshine, but it’s also a fundamental principle to botanists that too much of something is bad enough, and too much of nothing is just as tough. And deceiving yourself into believing that he was all that you needed had scorched up all the flowers in your garden.

The drought he put you in didn’t prepare you enough for the brewing storm.

It pains you to say that you need him more than he needs you because even if he isn’t romantically interested in you, you would have hoped that he’d stick around as a friend. His waning presence leads you to believe that he’s simply not interested.

Maybe you were too invested in what could have been between the two of you, you failed to see what was right there in plain sight.

Somehow, you still wonder if he thinks about you as much as you think about him. And it’s pathetic granted you’re incredibly busy with work and your own crippling health. Yet thoughts of him still pop up throughout the day more than you would like. No matter how much you want to forget about your infatuation, you simply can’t will him away because of how often his beautiful face flashes before your eyes. You want to push him to the back of your mind, but whether you’re in need of a breather during your hectic schedule, admiring his stupid puns and butterfly mosaics, or you’re in need of some company in your eerily quiet apartment, doing laundry or having a meal all to yourself, you still can’t get the sound of his sweet laughter out of your head.

You don’t know how it’s possible, but you manage to close up shop long before midnight. It’s a blessing and a curse because you are absolutely wiped out. Not only are you mentally checked out, but ironically, your flower shop is destitute of flowers, completely sold out from the holiday. As you clean up the barren space, you can’t help but feel as if a big weight has been lifted off your shoulders. The stress of Valentine’s Day is over, and you can finally go home, lie in bed with a tray of cookies, and enjoy the beauty that is Ryan Gosling.

You even consider closing the store all of tomorrow because you need the day off to recharge. So as you print out and paste your notice on the glass door, you’re dumbfounded to come across a sliver of paper that’s already attached on the other side. Opening up the door and letting in a gust of cold air breeze by you, you remove the sticky note that’s been unknowingly attached to your entrance.

Not a daisy goes by that I don’t think of you.

The smile that tugs on your lips grapples against the ache in your heart. Quickly, the fond smile melts into one of hurt and disappointment. Your left hand balls into a tight fist, marring crescent moon shapes into your palms. Meanwhile, your right hand delicately fiddles with the tiny square between your fingers, debating whether or not you should crumple up the paper and toss it away to be long forgotten. You’ve never been so confused about your feelings until Park Jimin came into your life, but you tuck the little daisy doodle into the pocket of your coat with a sigh.

With every passing year, Valentine’s Day becomes a little more bearable than the previous. Tonight feels like any other night, but better. You’ve come to accept that if there isn’t someone who can make you feel special, you might as well do it yourself.

Making a meal for you that doesn’t consist of ramen or 5 minute rice while dimming the lights and sparking up some candles is undeniably part of the healing process. And that’s what tonight mainly consists of. It’s all about love and self-care.

With your laptop perched on top of your dinner table and your Netflix queue lined up, you mindlessly mix at your wet and dry ingredients with a wooden spoon. Nothing has made you feel more at ease than the comfort of watching your favorite movie on repeat and the sweet taste of raw cookie dough on your tongue. Sometimes it’s the simple things in life that can put a smile on your face.

As you wait for your cookies to bake, you settle into bed with your legs crossed and back pressed against the headboard. Laughter from the speakers of your laptop fill the space, and you can’t help but laugh along with the characters, disrupting the peaceful ambiance of your apartment complex. The rumble of your laughter subsides, and the movie rolls on from scene to scene.

Your ears perk up like Pavlov’s dog when the oven goes off. You turn your head so quickly you nearly get whiplash, but it’s all worth it for the love of chocolate chip cookies. The aroma of sugar is enough to will yourself out of bed and conveniently press pause on Ryan Gosling’s charming face.

Pulling on your oven mitts to retrieve the hot platter, your body begins to sway around to the sudden echo of music. The soft guitar strums reverberate through the walls and against the vacant space of your studio. Your body stops moving to the acoustics when you realize where the noise is coming from. Looking up, your eyes bore into the eggshell walls as if you can see through it. But you soon space out, focusing on the vibrations of the nylon strings instead.

The song fades out and the quietude breaks you out of your reverie. You blink in confusion, trying to remember the last time you heard from your neighbor. Although you haven’t spent much time in your apartment in the past week, you miss the late night chats with him. Lately, you’ve been knocking out as soon as your head hits the pillow for some much needed rest. You haven’t heard his voice in forever, and especially not his angelic singing voice. Even tonight he refrains from singing in place of just practicing his guitar.

It’s a bit out of the ordinary.

His side of the wall is surprisingly quiet tonight. You would have expected him to be out and about with his girlfriend, but at this point of the night, they would have been jumping at each other's bones. Yet the gentle patter of footsteps and the lack of banging would suggest that he’s flying solo tonight.

Despite your curiosity, you’re not sure whether or not you’d want to bring it up in case it reopens some wounds. You think it’s best to leave it alone for the time being until he’s ready to come to you instead.

So as you proceed with bingeing your movies, there’s something in the back of your mind that still distracts you. It’s literally a crime that you’ve sat through 2 hours of The Notebook, yet you haven’t shed a single tear because you’re not even focused on the film in front of you. Rather, you’re thinking long and hard about the last time you heard your neighbor laugh in sincerity.

You really couldn’t care any less about the end credits that roll in front of you. Rather, with your chin propped up in the palm of your hands, you listen intently to what’s happening on the other side of the wall. It’s bizarrely quiet, aside from the sad symphony of string instruments that ring in the background of the ending credits.

When your screen turns black, you shut off your laptop and stow it away, knowing in your heart that you’re no longer in the mood for a romantic movie marathon. You make your way into your kitchen and reach for the cookies that have cooled off by now. But somehow, it feels wrong to sit here in enjoyment of your own company. Yet at the same time, this batch of cookies was the only thing you were looking forward to all week.

Nothing seems to satisfy you.

The only desire that creeps upon you is the desire to spend the night with someone else by your side. Frankly, it’s stupid because you know that you don’t need a man, and even the whole world knows that you don’t need one. Especially not on Valentine’s Day because you’ve made it abundantly clear that you hate February 14th with every fibre of your being.

However, the idea of having a friend at your side doesn’t seem so bad at this point.

You transfer all the cookies from the tray onto a smaller plate, arranging the delectable morsels into a presentable fashion.

With your slippers on, you make your way out of your apartment, letting the door close softly behind you. Standing in front of your neighbor’s abode, you nervously shift your weight on the heels of your feet. Midnight is approaching, and you wouldn’t want to disrupt his night like this, but it just feels right to knock on his door and offer your company. Just to check up on him because perhaps he’s in need of some companionship just like you. And who wouldn’t want some chocolate chip cookies? Baked with 80% sugar and 100% love.

Mustering up all the courage in your body, your hand comes up in a tight fist, knocking at the wooden door. You wait a moment, but to your dismay, there’s no evidence of movement on the other side of the partition. You would have heard his footsteps by now, and perhaps the turning of the deadbolt, but it’s dead silent.

Perhaps he didn’t hear you, so you knock a little harder this time.

Nothing.

As you stand outside, lost in naivety, you wonder whether you should try to make a fool of yourself and knock again. It’s been a good 5 minutes of you debating between speaking up to get his attention or giving up and retreating to your studio in embarrassment. Then you mentally facepalm yourself remembering that it’s incredibly rude of you to drop by without any kind of warning.

But still, you had his best interests in mind.

You think that the third time’s the charm, so in a last attempt, you knock with full force.

“Uhh, hey!” Your voice shakes and cracks. Blame it on the nerves. “I made some cookies, and I thought I’d share some!” You semi-yell in hopes of catching his attention.

“One second!” Oh, thank God. You can hear the bed frame creak on the other side and the skid of footsteps across the floor boards.

Your heartbeat weirdly picks up because of the fact that this is quite literally the first time you’ve come face to face with your neighbor. The late night chats with him have always made you feel comfortable, but there’s a certain nuance to meeting him that shakes your nerves.

You brace yourself as you hear the lock turn, eyes casting down towards the plate in front of you.

“I didn’t know that today’d be the day we meet like thiー” He says as the door swings open.

You look up expecting to greet him with a smile, but the one you had prepared falters from your lips.

“What’re youー”

“Y- You liveー”

You stutter over one another, lost in confusion. Staring into the very familiar set of brown eyes in front of you, you’re confounded by your new discovery.

Jimin stands before you, running his hand through his black locks as he opens the door wider, stepping aside to let you through.

“Hey, neighbor?” He sounds disoriented, untrusting of his voice.

You’re stood frozen at the foot of the entrance, unsure as to how you could possibly process all of this.

“I heard you made cookies?” He asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Here, come in.” He gently tugs on your sleeve, coddling you because of the state of shock you’re in.

You nod your head, barely cognizant of what’s being said. But your feet still shuffle through the entryway, and you slide off your slippers at the front door.

“This is so crazy,” he says, taking the plate of cookies off your hands. You’re both surprised that you have yet to drop them. He places the plate onto his coffee table, and his back is turned to you as you stand to the side, playing with the sleeves of your sweater.

How much weirder can this situation possibly get?

“You mean to tell me that we’ve been neighbors all this time and we didn’t even know?” You ask, sucking your lips inward, cocking your head to the side. Your words are a jumbled mess, but Jimin has become a master at deciphering your incoherent words through the thin walls many nights in a row.

“I’m just as surprised as you! I can’t believe I didn’t connect the dots?” He exclaims in dismay, patting the seat beside him on the couch as an invitation to you.

Your brain feels as if it’s lost all of its cells because you have so many questions, yet you can’t seem to articulate them. As you sit down, you close your eyes and rub at your temples, praying that you’d wake up from this odd dream.

“There’s no way I could have connected the dots,” you sputter in collection of your thoughts, completely exasperated. “I just don’t understand.”

You fiddle with your fingers, and Jimin takes your hand in his. His touch is soft, and as much as you want to pull away, you give into him because there’s no way you’d ever deny him, especially not when he looks at you with those big round eyes.

“I have so many questions,” you admit, rubbing at your eyelids.

“Shoot.”

“Uhm,” your head shakes wildly. “I don’t even know where to begin?” Your eyes widen, shocked by how nonchalant he’s acting. As if he didn’t just lead you on and ghost you days on end, pretending that everything’s okay now.

“Take your time,” he chuckles reassuringly, offering you a calming smile.

“Uhm… How are you? I guess? Th- that’s kind of the first thing I wanted to ask you before… I- you know.”

Your heart gallops because he’s looking at you, biting his lip. And you, you are completely weak for the man who holds all of your affection in the palm of his hands, yet you can’t handle his smoldering stare, so you avert your eyes elsewhere. This is downright cruel and unusual punishment.

You continue, “Because I haven’t spoken to you much lately, you know?”

“You wanted to check up on me?”

You blink away, eyes now focused on the vase of wilting flowers on the coffee table. Pink and red variegated carnations. You inhale deeply, trying to calm yourself and regulate your breath. Your body stiffens and your shoulders tense. Even your jaw tightens, but you manage to nod your head.

“I’ve been better,” he admits sullenly.

Your hand lets go of his, pulling back to seek comfort at your side. It just doesn’t feel right to hold his hand so intimately when he’s made a mess of your head and your heart. You just can’t do it to yourself, and you can’t do it to him or his girlfriend. Especially not when his heart belongs to her.

You open your mouth as if you have another question to ask, but none of them are coherent enough to utter. There’s plenty of noise ringing in your head, but it’s all nonsense.

Jimin gently rests his hand on the ball of your knee, almost like a graze, but his touch is hot, and you brush him off with the recoil of your leg.

His shoulders slump, and his eyes soften. His hands retract to his lap, respecting your wishes. He gulps, and noticeably the lump in his throat goes down in a swallow.

“Hey, it’s just me, okay? You don’t need to be scared.” He displays his palms out to you as a peace offering. A symbol of vulnerability. The tension in the air is palpable, but you still manage to keep your guard down in front of him.

Because this is Jimin. The guy you’ve come to know and unfortunately love. But it’s just that you’ve never seen Jimin like this.

“Yeah and that’s kind of the problem,” you breathe out. Your brows knit into a frown, and he looks at you in bewilderment, with wide eyes, parted lips, and stress tousled hair. “I- I don’t know if you’re Jimin the mysterious neighbor who’s been nothing but nice to me, or Jimin the guy from the flower shop who pretty much made it loud and clear he doesn’t want to see me,” you scoff.

“B- butー What do you mean? We’re the same person.” His eyes narrow, and he shakes his head subtly trying to convince you. He fiddles with his fingers, cracking his knuckles out of bad habit. Shifting his body so his knees are pointed towards yours, nearly in contact, he refrains from the much needed skinship. The heat radiating from his body is something you’re familiar with, and although it once brought you comfort, you can only feel resentment.

“Of course I want to see you? Iー I?” He’s a stuttering mess, shaking his head from side to side as if you’ve got it all wrong, but you interject because you have so much to say, yet you haven’t expressed yourself to your liking just yet.

“I don’t know about that!” Your hands clench up at your sides until your knuckles turn sharp. “Because neighbor Jimin is telling me he has a fuck buddy he thinks he’s in love with, and flower shop Jimin has a girlfriend he doesn’t want to talk about. So what is it? I’m hearing a lot about mixed feelings for this one person, and… if you’re involved with someone, I don’t want to get in the middle of this,” you spit out more harshly than expected, inching further and further away to the edge of the couch with your arms crossed over your chest. You gulp down a thick glob of spit in hopes of washing down the acidic sting in your throat, but it’s like bile just sits there on your tongue.

“Let me explain, okay?” He begs of you.

You sit there in sullen silence, staring at the carnations in your peripherals, ready to have him break your heart all over again. You nod, but you don’t even bother turning to face him, unsure whether or not you’d be able to hear him talk about how he’s in some complicated relationship with someone else.

“Please, look at me?” he pleads with a sniffle, “I need to know if you’re okay.” His voice cracks, and you finally look his way. You’re far from okay, but seeing him with glossy eyes, you also know that he isn’t either.

He licks his lips, and his hand comes up in desperate need of tucking the stray strand of hair that’s fallen in front of your face. But he decides against it in fear of rejection, and he rests his hand on the ball of his knee instead. Your line of sight falls to his shaking leg. You hesitantly reach across to close your hand softly around his in comfort. His movement stops instantly as he lets out a huff.

Licking your lips, your eyes gaze towards your hands, and you can’t help but imagine how they’d slot into one another so perfectlyー

“_____?” Your eyes shift to lock with his and there are tears that brim at his corners, but they’re kept at bay, refusing to fall.

“I-” He exhales.

You squeeze his hand a little tighter, and you don’t know if it’s more for yourself or for him, but it gives him the strength to continue on.

“Look, that girl and I? We weren’t in a relationship. I promise you. I told you that we were friends with benefits because that’s what we were.” He insists, hoping the message gets across to you, but your heart drops lower into your stomach at his admission. You don’t even want to picture him with some other girl, yet you know way more about their relationship than you would have ever wanted.

Hell, you were even convinced that they were in love. A highlight reel of the last few months spent in your apartment flashes before your eyes, and your grip on his hand loosens. You think back to the days when Jimin was just some faceless guy, dancing around with his supposed girlfriend, having pillow fights, running warm baths, making out beneath the stars, and fucking around with her like they were in love.

But he continues in hopes that you’d understand his point of view. “It was easier to tell you the truth because you didn’t know who I was, and you wouldn’t have judged me for it. So I was an idiot, and at the flower shop, I told you she was my girlfriend because it would have been easier to explain this complicated mess.” A single tear cascades down his cheek, and he wipes it away with the crook of his elbow.

“I mean, she wanted it to be serious, but there was just something pulling me back. And do you know what that was?”

You shake your head no and pull away, unsure how much more of this you can take.

He looks you dead in the eyes, but you can’t even look at him for another second because the wilting carnations are sitting there, mocking you.

“_____, you asked me the other day what I liked about her, and I was wracking my brain trying to come up with an answer... It wasn’t easy because you were the only person I thought about.”

A sudden tear escapes from the corner of your eyes, unbelieving, but you compel yourself to look back at his visage, checking for any tells of a lie. He doesn’t even falter.

“She and I? We fought so much because she was convinced I had feelings for someone else. And you know?” He shakes his head, “…It’s true. I couldn’t think about the things I liked about her, but then when I thought of you. My god, it was just so much easier to talk about the things I loved about you because you’re the one I like. I didn’t know how to express that, okay? The songs that I wrote? The ones you hear me sing day and night? Fuck…” He rubs at his eyes, and they’re evidently red from all the tears welled up. “They’re all about you, and you didn’t even know,” he sobs out. The first drop of tears came out steadily, but as you examine his face in total shock, the tears begin to cascade down his face.

You wrap your arms around his neck, now understanding where he’s coming from. It’s all a little more clear to you, and there’s no need to continue on if he’s in hysteria like this. His arms instinctively squeeze around your waist, holding on tight, too afraid that he’d lose you if he were to let go.

“I didn’t have my feelings sorted out because I was comfortable with where I was, but it’s not like it made me happy,” he confesses. You hush him, running your fingers through his hair and caressing his slumped back. Sitting in silence, you can only hear the sound of your breathing falling into sync with his. Occasionally, the radiator would go off and a car would drive by on the street beneath you.

You tell him that it’s all okay and that all is forgiven, but he still continues in justification of himself. “And I was convinced that you’d think I was a horrible person for liking someone else when I’ve got a complicated relationship going on, okay? Because that’s how I felt about myself, and I swear we broke it off, but I was too embarrassed to come to you because I didn’t know how to explain the mess I got myself into. It’s all my fault, and I’m so so so sorry, you have no idea.”

He’s wracked with sobs, but you hum, listening intently to his every word. They’re coherent enough for you to realize that you’ve both made mistakes because of a huge misunderstanding.

The Jimin that you know and love is right here in your arms, and there’s nothing you can do but forgive and forget.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he cries out with a hiccup. “I promise you that you’re the only person I care about.”

You whisper sweet nothings into his ear, hoping that he calms down because there’s really nothing to apologize for. “What did I say? You don’t have to be sorry, okay?” You remind him.

He lets out a breathy exhale, “I messed up,” he hiccups, “I don’t deserve this. You.”

Your hands rest on his shoulder, gently pulling back from him, but he clings on tighter to your waist. Looking down at the sweet man beneath you, you smile to yourself.

“Jimin,” you murmur.

“Hm?”

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” You shake your head, and a soft chuckle vibrates through your chest. Still, you keep him in your embrace because although it may seem like Jimin is the one in need of a hug, you need it just as much as he does.

“Can I tell you a story?” You ask.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, tickling the skin at your sternum.

“I think I caught feelings for you the first time we met. Do you remember that?” He hums as you reminisce on the memory. “It was some random Sunday, and you walked in looking for a bouquet for your mom, but you realized you didn’t have enough cash on youー”

Jimin laughs beneath you, and it’s the way that he laughs that makes you realize you need that in your life. A cheshire grin spreads across your lips, and that’s when you know you can’t go a single day without hearing his laugh again.

“You didn’t have enough cash, so you pulled out a post it note and scribbled an IOU.” You can barely get the sentence out without chuckling to yourself. Jimin has stopped sobbing at this point, being reduced to a few sniffles here and there. You deem it as the right moment to pull back from his embrace so you can look him in the eyes.

“You drew a little daisy for me and that’s when I knew you were really something else.”

You cup his cheeks, and a grin tugs on his lips, matching the one on your face. His eyes shine in the dim light, just like how the sun radiates in the day time. A single tear trickles down his plush cheeks, and you wipe it away with the pad of your thumb.

“Look, I’ve liked you for as long as I can remember, and I have to admit that it hurt me when you said you had a girlfriend, but it really hurt me when you left without saying anything.”

His eyes cast downwards as if he’s ashamed, but you place your hand beneath his chin, bringing his attention back up.

“Know that I’d never judge you for the decisions you make and for the relationships you have, okay? And I don’t think you’re horribleー”

“You don’t?” He cuts you off with his big pleading eyes.

“No, far from it,” you beam, “I still think you’re the most selfless person I know.”

Jimin’s face drops at your confession, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry if I ever made you feel like you’re not special, because to me, you’re the most extraordinary person in this world.”

He cups your face, noticing that your eyes are starting to well. Drops of tears roll down your face, and Jimin’s quick to dry them away, pressing his lips against your cheeks to collect the drops of salt water. As you smile, another stream of tears pour from your ducts. Soft pecks are trailed against your skin, and you think you’ve successfully washed away all the pain.

You can feel the flowers in your heart slowly starting to bloom in preparation for spring.

“Why’d you stop?” You ask, opening up your eyes. He’s merely a few inches away from you, stuck in a daze.

His eyes can’t decide whether they want to look at the gleam in your irises or at the curvature of your lips, flickering between the two.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.” Your whimper is hardly loud enough for your own ears, but he hears you loud and clear.

His hands rest at the sides of your neck as his thumbs run over your cheeks, grazing over the flesh of your lips. “Can I show you how special you are to me?”

You nod your head, and Jimin is overcome with the urge to kiss you, inching closer with puckered lips. They’re soft against your own, plush and pillowy. You melt into his touch as if he’s the light of your life. You think you could cry again from the sheer amount of euphoria built up in your little heart. Having him in your arms is all you could ever ask for.

He pulls back slightly in need of a breath, and you take the opportunity to climb into his lap, with knees settled on either side of his taut thighs.

“Missed you,” you whimper against the column of his neck, nosing at the sensitive skin.

Jimin’s breath hitches as he bites back a moan, “Missed you more.”

“Not possible,” you trail gentle kisses against his collarbones, pulling back on the cotton of his t-shirt to expose more of his neck.

His hands rest on your outer thighs thighs, squeezing tight on the muscles. You reach behind you to grab at his forearms, urging him to move his hands higher onto your body. He takes the hint immediately and experimentally squeezes at your ass. Your lips part from his neck, and Jimin takes the opportunity to latch his mouth back onto yours.

His lips are gentle in contrast to the firm grip he has on you. But with your weight resting on top of him, core pressed up against his crotch, you can feel how hard he is beneath you. In need of some release, you start to move your hips back and forth, grinding over his hard on.

Jimin gives you a lingering kiss on your lips, pulling back with a harsh groan. You offer a teasing smile, and he leans forward. He supports your weight at the bottom of your ass as your legs wrap around his waist. You nearly yelp when he stands, holding you up in his arms.

“I got you,” he reassures, pressing his lips firmly against yours, walking towards his unmade bed space. He lays you down gently on top of the messy covers, climbing between your legs. You whine upon the release of his lips, but his mouth leaves hot kisses down the column of your throat, causing you to gasp.

“Is it okay if we take this off?” He asks, thumbing at the hem of your sweater.

You nod sitting up, and he tugs the material off for you, tossing it to the edge of the bed. Upon sight of your bare chest, he molds into you, lips suctioning around your pebbled nipple. His other hand massages at your unattended breast, squeezing at the supple flesh.

“You’re beautiful,” he hums against your body.

You’re easily affected by his words as your back arches and your legs hook around his torso. Canting your hips upward, you signal to Jimin with a whine that you’re desperate for his touch.

“There’s no need to rush, baby, we have the whole night,” he warns you, leaving a kiss between the valley of your breasts.

You cry out in frustration, but it soon subsides when he satiates your needs. You relax when his hand lowers into your sweatpants, cupping at your heat. His middle finger traces at your entrance, running it up and down your panty clad slit. Your hips lurch once again, but Jimin presses your hips down, flush against the mattress.

As his tongue circles around your sensitive nipple, his fingers decide to dip into your underwear. The obscene sound of your juices squelching can be heard when he presses his finger into your tight hole. Inserting a finger in, you can feel your walls stretch around him. A cry falls from your lips as he begins to rub at your clit with the pad of his thumb.

Jimin inserts another finger, and your cunt feels so hot with the amount of friction. Pumping two fingers in and out, there’s a pleasurable burn that ripples throughout your body. Beads of sweat form on your hairline, and you wipe them away with the back of your hand. You can practically feel your heart beating out of your chest.

“Tell me how it feels, okay?” He asks, switching over to your other breast.

“You feel so good,” you mewl. He hums against your nipple in affirmation, biting lightly at the perky bud.

“Jimin?” You call out for him.

He parts from your chest to look into your eyes, fingers still pumping in and out of you with flexing biceps.

“I think it’d feel better if you’d fuck me,” you admit, no filter needed.

“Shit,” he groans, slowing down the pace. “I want to eat you out first though.”

He retracts his hand, and you feel empty without him inside. Your sweatpants and panties are tugged off in one swift motion, casted to the side along with your sweatshirt. Looking up with stars in your eyes, you can see that Jimin is still fully dressed. You open your mouth to tell him about your wishes, but he must have read your mind because he pulls off his t-shirt and throws it with no regard.

Beneath his clothing, he reveals to you his robust body. You’re dripping with lust, and it must be so obvious from the way you stare at his abdominals. Everything about him is so well-built, and you curse the talented dancer in front of you.

“Like what you see?” He teases, winking at you as he descends down your body.

“Love it,” you moan.

His breath is hot against your wet pussy. With juices dripping down your ass, you ruin the linen sheets beneath you. His fingers play with your core, spreading your swollen lips to reveal your flower, admiring how pretty your cunt is.

Sitting up with elbows propped, you look down in frustration between your bent legs to see Jimin licking his lips, staring at your heat like he’s ready to devour you. He kisses at the long, dark lines of stretch marks that reside on your inner thighs before his tongue presses softly against your wet clit, kitten licking at the bud. Reaching out, your hand balls around the white comforter to anchor yourself down. As you spread your legs wider, Jimin’s hands hook around your limbs to rest at your thighs. He presses them down, restricting your movement.

His tongue laps at your heat with no mercy, licking a stripe up your sex and tracing letters onto your clit, sending your nerves aflame. Your breaths are shallow as you pant, melding yourself to the mattress. He flicks his tongue, prodding it against your hole and delving in and out. He massages your tight walls as it clenches around his tongue.

There’s a knot in your stomach that forms embarrassingly fast, but you can’t help it when his plush lips give your cunt so much attention, sucking harshly on your clitoris. He looks over at your features, taking notice of your reactions, licking over and over the parts that make you squirm the most.

Your face scrunches in pleasure, nearly toppling over the edge. But you’re not ready to come. Not yet at least. Not without having Jimin’s hard cock inside of you.

Jimin is relentless against your pussy, but he doesn’t even let up when you call his name out. Your grip around the comforter loosens in favor of digging your fingers into Jimin’s luscious black locks.

“Jimiiiin,” you whine, tugging lightly at his roots. “I need you, please, please,” you beg.

He leaves a kiss at your bud, and you shudder in response. Jimin climbs up your body, and you shiver at the loss of contact.

“You need me, huh?” He teases, “You want to come?” You nod your head ardently when he presses his red, swollen lips against yours. He grapples with your mouth in a bruising, passionate kiss. With clicking teeth and suckling tongues, you can taste yourself off of his plush lips, completely drenched in your arousal.

Trailing your hand down Jimin’s sturdy body, you can’t resist running your hands over his perfectly sculpted abs. But on your descent, you pull on the strings of his heather gray sweatpants, loosening the elastic around his waist.

Your palm slides beneath the band, tucking beneath his boxer briefs. His eyebrows scrunch, and he gasps against your mouth when you wrap your hand around his hot, veiny cock, stroking at his erection. His cheeks flush as you swipe your thumb over the head, collecting beads of precum on your fingers.

He shudders at your touch. “Oh my God, I might die if you keep doing that,” he nearly cries.

You smile against the skin of his neck, sucking at his pulse point. Meanwhile, Jimin reaches over to his nightstand, pulling out a condom. He nearly falls off the bed, losing balance on his knee when you stroke his cock a little faster.

As Jimin sits up, trying to open up the packaging, you careen forward to pull off his sweats. You can hardly pull it down below his thick ass given the position he’s sitting in. But it’s enough for you to pull his dick out and wrap your hand around his girth in all its glory.

While waiting for Jimin to take out the condom, you decide to tease him like he deserves. Switching positions, you lie down on your stomach in front of him. With a glob of saliva built up in your mouth, you spit onto the head of his cock, watching it drip down the shaft and onto his balls. You glide your hand up and down to spread the saliva, making sure he’s nice and wet. His balls tighten the moment you suckle your lips around his slit.

You look up at Jimin with wide eyes in hope of some praise.

His eyes stare into yours, but he quickly throws his head back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck I’m not gonna last, please, I know your mouth is like heaven, but I want to be inside you,” he rambles.

He tucks your hair behind your ears and rests his hand beneath your chin, tilting it upwards. His lips meet your forehead in a sweet kiss before you lie back down on the bed, spreading your legs wide open as an invitation.

Jimin ungracefully pulls off his pants down the rest of his legs. He pumps his thick cock in his hands before sliding on the condom and lining himself up at your entrance. You groan, reaching out for his wrists as he glides his length up and down your folds, making sure you're nice and wet for him, fully prepped.

The callous on his thumb is rough against your clit as he rubs down on it, easing the discomfort of penetration. Your velvety walls stretch around his member as he sinks into you inch by inch.

You’re gasping for air as he sheaths himself inside you, but you remain calm because Jimin peppers kisses all across your face.

“Are you okay?” He asks, concerned.

“Mhmm,” you hum, “Might need a second.”

His nose nudges at your cheek, “Take all the time you need, baby.”

Moments go by until you’re comfortable with the stretch. You don’t know how Jimin has so much patience with you when you can literally feel his dick twitch inside your pussy, impossibly harder than he was moments prior. But like the angel he is, he still waits for your go-ahead.

“Jimin, you can move,” you whisper, cupping his cheek and offering a butterfly kiss.

His mouth finds his way to yours, and he kisses you with so much fervor. You’re too distracted by the kiss to notice him slide out of you.

But your lips part slightly, letting out a gasp when he drives his dick back into you, setting a moderate pace. Your hands reach for the skin of his back, latching your nails onto the smooth surface. The slap of skin on skin is obscene as his hips meet yours, pumping himself inside of you. The delicious burn has you digging your nails into his shoulder blades, scratching at his taut muscles.

You weren’t wrong to say that you can’t go another day without hearing Jimin’s laughter, but at the time, you were not privileged enough to hear his moans against the shell of your ear. That is the one thing you don’t want to ever live without, too spoiled by the sensual man above you.

Jimin fucks into you deeply, changing his angle as he shifts his weight onto his knees. His calculated thrusts to your g-spot sends you closer and closer to the edge. His eyes focus on your pussy, watching his dick disappear inside of you like an addiction. With a firm grasp on your hips, he lifts you higher to help you reach your orgasm.

“Jimin, I’m gonna come,” you gasp, gripping your walls tightly around his length.

“I know, baby, you can come.” He lowers himself onto his elbows so he can come face to face with you. His hands reach down between your bodies, and he rubs harsh figure eights on your swollen clit. You lean forward, pressing your lips to his as waves of pleasure crash over you. Your body trembles beneath him, moaning his name like a vice.

Jimin rides out your high, pumping into your tight hole until your legs nearly give out. He doesn’t dare pull away, continuing to circle your clit until you’ve nearly reached your limits. Your walls pulse around his cock, squeezing around his shaft until he’s nearly at his edge. His hair is matted to his forehead, slicked by sweat. You brush away the loose strands with the tips of your fingers.

“Are you close?” You breathe out, hush and quiet, cupping his jaw with the palm of your hands.

“Mhmm,” he gulps, rutting into you, pumping your cum in and out as it sheaths his shaft.

His pace falters as he approaches his orgasm, hips stuttering against yours. Jimin nearly collapses on top of you as he spills himself into the condom, moaning into the cusp of your ear. His chest presses up against yours as he attempts to catch his breath.

You trace soothing circles onto his back as he basks in the afterglow of post orgasmic sex.

His breathing soon evens out, and it’s comfortably quiet, that is with the exception of the radiator hissing in the corner of the studio.

“Wow.” He kisses your temple before pulling out, letting the remains of your cum flow out of you. He rolls over onto his back, pulling you into his warm embrace.

“So on a scale of 1-10, how special would you say you feel right about now?” A smug smirk tugs on his lips, and you playfully smack his pecks.

“Does this answer your question?” You ask, peppering 10 kisses onto his lips.

“Mmm, no, I didn’t quite hear your answer” he says, leaning in for another kiss, “Tell me one more time?”

And as Jimin kisses you goodnight, you know in your heart that the heartache and the loss of $5 are all worth it in the end if it means you get to wake up and smell the roses with Jimin at your bedside.

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