#stealing glances and giggles

[lonelyingcurlyjen]

In sync.

[humanjarvis]

lads LIs when you're hesitant to initiate kisses

sylus understands your hesitancy to make yourself vulnerable, but he also can't stand to see you unfulfilled. the first couple times he catches you staring at his lips, he offers nothing but lazy blinks and slow smirks, challenging you to come to him first. but when you look away in uncertainty one too many times, seemingly content to watch your own desires slip away as long as it saves you from embarrassment, he saunters toward you, maintaining eye contact all the way. placing one hand on your hip and the other on your chin, he bends to capture your lips with his, making you stumble with his intensity. his grip on you only tightens when he breaks the kiss, and before you can ask what he’s doing, he tugs you toward his lips. when you lose your balance and fall into his embrace, you realize his game: he’s making you kiss him first 

zayne empathizes with your shyness and hesitancy, afraid to so much as look at you the wrong way in case he offends you. since you’re both too frozen in overthought to make the first move, you don’t become intimate as quickly as most couples, trading physical closeness for emotional understanding. when he walks you to your door after a visit to the bakery, he leaves you with a warm goodnight hug, and you both assume the other is satisfied. only when you think he’s asleep on the sofa one evening and press a fond kiss to his cheek does he realize you share his private desires. the next day, after stoically psyching himself up for 20 minutes, he finds you in the kitchen and kisses you deeply, a pink tinge on his cheeks when he pulls away

caleb wants you to kiss him first—or at least ask him to kiss you—but what if you won’t? he needs to know that you want him—that you’ll willingly give him the privilege of kissing you—so he gives you a few pushes in the right direction. he teases you with heated glances and not-so-accidental touches until you walk up to him, dumb with desire. when you stare up at him helplessly, he settles a large hand on your waist and hovers over your mouth, giving you the chance to push him away. when you don’t, he leans in slowly, tantalizingly, as if wanting to drive home the fact that you’re letting this happen to you—letting him claim your mouth in a slow, consuming kiss. this way, maybe, just maybe, you’ll find the courage to take what you want from him next time—if you let him taste you, there’s no need to be shy anymore, right?

you know rafayel, so you know he would be upset if you expected him to initiate everything—would it kill you to show a little interest in him? that said, you also know that initiating things isn’t really your thing. so, you find a trick that works like a charm: you goad him into kissing you. you’re comfortable enough with kisses to other places—anywhere but the lips—so you adorn his cheeks and neck with soft, chaste kisses until he’s riled up and flushed, his breath coming out in soft pants from the pleasure of feeling wanted. when you pull away, he chases your touch, and all it takes is an innocent giggle from you before he’s pinning you down and stealing your breath away, his tongue tangling with yours in passion and power.

xavier is confused and a bit discouraged when he realizes you never initiate—he thinks you just don’t want to kiss him. one afternoon, you find him sulking in bed, huddled under his comforter with the lights off. worried he’s sick or hurt, you ask what’s wrong, and he gives you 4 pouty non-answers before finally giving in. you can feel your face heat and gut tangle in guilt when he questions if you ever want to kiss him, and with one hand stroking his hair, you confess that you’re simply too shy to kiss him first. he responds with a blink and a whispered “so you do like me, then?”, and when you nod, he tackles you at the speed of light, pressing kisses all over your face before finally claiming your lips

a/n: anon who asked me if i’d ever write for zayne and i hinted at later this week this is not what i was talking about don’t worry, just an impromptu writing exercise to convince myself i’m not washed. also while this technically counts for xavier and raf i’m the least familiar with their cards so idk if/when i can write anything much longer than this for them (love them tho)

[readwritealldayallnight]

Simon is aware of his size.

Ever since he’d shot up a foot and began towering over his teachers in school, he’d grown used to the surprised looks and stares that sometimes followed his large stature.

It wasn’t something that bothered him. Honestly, it came with too many advantages for him to care whether it led to more eyes on him in public spaces or having to duck through shorter entry ways.

It wasn’t something he spent much time thinking about either. He was just tall, all there was to it.

Until you came into his life.

Until suddenly the size difference between you two wasn’t just something that wandering eyes would notice, but apparently something to be envied.

He notices the way other women keep stealing glances over at the two of you, as Simon effortlessly lifts you in his arms, sometimes holding you up against a large muscular shoulder, as you reach to pick the best looking apples off the branches at the orchard. Those women are fidgeting with their baskets as their partners attempt to climb short ladders and shake loose some of the fruit, unaware to the way their ladies are all imagining what it would be like to be in your place right now.

He notices the way a young woman in the grocery store blatantly stares at the way he casually plucks the jar off the very top shelf that you had been straining on tip toes to reach. He drops it into your shopping cart with a smile, watching as the woman’s gaze shifts to the difference in your hands as he interlocks his fingers through yours.

Even you can’t help but to notice the way a group of mums giggle and swoon as your mountain of a man casually untangles the bunch of balloons that had gotten caught in a tree, returning it to the young boy who was celebrating his birthday party in the park you two had been strolling through.

Oh yes, Simon’s large size came with an endless list of advantages.

But the very best parts of his stature, the toe-curling, heart-racing, slick producing advantages to his size, well, those were kept between you, him, and your bedsheets.

[classyrbf]

ELECTRICIAN!TOJI — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...some headcanons I have about electrician!toji hehe

INFO...electrician!toji x fem!reader, nsfw content, p in v, oral (m & f receiving), praise, toji is an ex prisoner, riding, mating press, cream pie, overstim, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

electrician!toji...who is also an ex prisoner and landed this job a few months after he got released. He was thankful his cousin was able to hook him up with a job and even more thankful they hired him

electrician!toji...whose body is littered with tattoos, he swears it makes him look more intimidating because the little old ladies on the street always steer clear from him

electrician!toji...who is tall and muscular, he was working out before going to prison but started working out more due to boredom. His muscles only grew bigger and he only grew stronger (he’s gotten into his fair share of fights)

electrician!toji...who ends up getting sent to your house for a job on his day off, he expects to be welcomed by some old man but is completely caught off guard to see a pretty thing like yourself open the door with a nervous smile

electrician!toji...who comes and diagnoses the problem, taking a look at your garage sensor, complaining that it wasn’t working properly. You’re profusely apologizing like it’s your fault, and he can’t help but chuckle and reassure you it’s okay

electrician!toji...who is taken aback by your kindness, asking him if he’d like something to drink or even eat as he works. He takes you up on your offer and has a little break while you make him a nice fulfilling sandwich

electrician!toji...who keeps stealing glances at those cute little shorts you have on. He knows you probably don’t mean it, but he can’t stop staring at the little part of your ass peaking out your shorts. It only reminds him of how long it’s been since he’s been with a woman

electrician!toji...whose conversation goes smooth with you, you’re asking him about his tattoos and how likes his job, telling little jokes and making him laugh

electrician!toji...who doesn’t expect you to put your hand on his muscles, asking him how much he can lift just out of pure curiosity. He flexes his arms under your touch just to hear you giggle. “Wanna find out?”

electrician!toji...who has you hoisted up in the air like you way nothing, his thick cock pumping in and out of your dripping pussy, his hands gripping your ass while you hold onto him for dear life

electrician!toji...who has you crying out his name and cumming on his cock in damn near every room of your house, his rough hand pressing your head into the couch as he pounds into you, fucking you dumb. “Look at how much this pussy is creaming around me, baby,” he cockily says.

electrician!toji...who has your entire body shaking, his hands guiding your hips while you slowly ride him, his thick cock stretching you inch by inch. “Just like that…ah—feel so fucking good wrapped around me.”

electrician!toji...who has your legs pushed to your chest, his tongue messily lapping at your sensitive clit, fat tears streaming down your cheeks because it’s just too much. He laughs at your measly attempts to push his head away but all that fails when you’re cumming on his tongue again

electrician!toji...who doesn’t realize he has a whole bunch of missed calls from his boss, nevemind realize how much hours have gone by. The sun is already setting outside and you’re on your knees with his dick down your throat

electrician!toji...who has your legs over his shoulders, folding you into a mating press all while whispering the nastiest things in your ear. “Gonna take all this cum, huh? Yeah, good girl. This pussy is fucking perfect,” he groans, each snaps of his hips knocks the air out your chest, your eyes rolling back.

electrician!toji...who cums deep inside you, filling your pussy to the very brim, his sweaty body pressed against yours, breath hitting your skin as he tries to ground himself again

electrician!toji...who finally returns the missed calls from his boss while you’re passed out in bed literally minutes later. “I just thought I’d stay few extra hours to help her, she wanted me to look at some other stuff. It’s my day off anyway, right?” He smirks, looking over at your sleeping figure

electrician!toji...who leaves his phone number on your bedside table for “business reasons” before heading back home

electrician!toji...who’s back and biceps are still covered in scratches days later, reminding him of his time with you, the flashbacks making his dick grow hard

electrician!toji...who gets a random phone call and immediately recognizes your voice. “Heyyy, Toji, hate to ask, but..my bedroom light keeps flickering…think you can come check it out?” And he scoffs, already grabbing his keys and heading to his car. “On my way.”

electrician!toji...who pulls up to your house, not even getting a chance to knock on the door before you open it and drag him inside, feverishly kissing him. “Missed this dick that much, did you?”

taglist:

@sleepykittyenergy @ravenbc @yharnam-prophet @screechingbasementprincess @avaredava @mxrxlxy @lordchula-thagrandrula @akiyhara @palestrawberrycollection @bijuu-naginata @jeansblit @jabulile @aemyuo @springismss @fmlalexis @gradmacoco @phob1cc @kousweet @saoirses-things @ineedtofeedmycat @voidofryomen @bbyrugou @suguru-nugget @monkeyjjk @zxnxy @loserrrluvvverrr

[nezuscribe]

you try not to get jealous. it does you no good. but sometimes you get a little miffed when it comes to how women treat your husband, arranged!gojo.

you see how the women giggle at him, how they bite their lips whenever he walks by. you see them giggle to each other, the way they try to catch his attention.

and though most ladies of the high society act this way, some of the servants around the estate, the women of the town, and others behave like this too.

they act as if he’s not married, as if that ring on his hand is purely for decoration. and sure, maybe a couple months ago it was for show but now things have changed and you don’t appreciate those ladies all that much.

and gojo notices.

he knows you’re getting better at talking to him about what ails you, but he also knows that it’s a a lot to get used to at once. he sees the way you tense up at their whispers, the glares you throw their way when you hear his name in their conversation. he understands because he’s the same as you, his feelings mirroring yours.

so he decides to comfort your worries a bit indirectly.

“what…” you whip your head around as gojo stops at a random spot in one of the hallways, taking you away from your tea time with shoko as he fails to give any explanation for his hurried responses, “what are you doing? you have that meeting with your counsel and-”

“missed you,” is all he’s able to say as he slams his lips onto yours, earning a surprised yelp in response.

your back hits against the stone wall, one of his hands against your head to protect it from bumping back as your gasp in surprise, letting him slide his tongue in your mouth as he sloppily kisses your lips.

“satoru, w-wait,” you try to stop yourself from whining out loud, your fingers cuing into his artic strands as his hands move down to hold your waist, “it’s daytime, p-people, people can come…” you can’t speak anymore because he doesn’t let you, lips slotting against each others as your eyes screw shut, heartbeat in your throat as he hands squeeze as your skin.

“i missed you,” he just repeats, nipping slightly at your bottom lip as you mewl, feeling his lips trail down your chin to your throat as you tilt you head upwards to give him a better angle.

you almost want to laugh because it’s only been hours since you’ve seen each other, but for gojo it feels like days since he’s seen you.

you peek slightly too look at him, see the way his lips attack your skin, sucking and biting, surely leaving marks as he makes his way down. you love the way his hair is slightly wavy, most likely from his bath after sparring.

you’re almost too intoxicated from his feverish kisses to notice the sounds of incoming footsteps, but the loud overbearing giggles is what pulls you back to reality.

you tense up, scrambling to push him away from you but he won’t budge. if anything, he seems to be motivated, moving back up to your lips to steal your words away.

“t-there’s people coming!” you try to warn him but he doesn’t seem to care, his blue eyes gleaming with a different look as your whine from one of his hands moving upwards to your chest, giving one of your breasts a light squeeze.

“so?” he murmurs, lips hovering against the corners of yours as his brow cocks upwards.

you go to say something else but he tilts your chin upwards to meet him, one hand balancing on the wall behind you, one on your hip, his hair messy from your fingers gripping at him.

you don’t feel like moving, too drunk off of him to even notice the ladies as they round the corner, not looking their way as you hear their squeals of shock, the way they try to hurriedly leave.

you glance slightly to the right as gojo moves back down to your neck to get a look at them, your fingers still tangled in his hair, one hand draped over his neck, squinting slightly as you remember their faces from last week, when you overheard them talking about your husband.

there’s a slight tilt in your lips as you hear their scrambled apologies, the way they try to leave as fast as they can. you try not to gloat too much in their looks of envy and jealousy.

and if you focused just enough, you could feel the smile on his lips.

“you missed me?” you ask a little breathless, a coy tilt to your voice.

“so much,” he mumbles as he glances up at you from his white lashes, his pupils blown wide, lips messy with spit, red and swollen as he presses a slopping kiss to the slight skin showing of your chest.

“you’re so immature,” you chide, trying to look away, the hide the bashfulness in your face but his hand cups your jaw, pulling your face back down to see his.

“they had to see for themselves,” he tells you, his voice wavering on something darker, “had to see who the only lady gojo is.”

and you smile, eyes a little hazy as your fingers slightly tug on his soft strands, reveling in the way his eyes roll back and his lips find their way back up to yours.

yeah jealousy wasn’t the best. but thank the gods your husband was just as petty as you.

[alygator77]

──little things like this

a/n. just something small i felt like writing 🫶🏻 what i imagine grocery shopping with satoru would be like.

cw. domestic fluff. dad! satoru. husband! satoru. and just... satoru being satoru. also, he's missing you (like, a lot).

You should’ve known better than to bring him.

It was supposed to be a quick trip—milk, eggs, veggies, rice, soy sauce. Easy. You had dinner planned and everything. His favorite—the one he always says you make better than anyone. The one he begged you to cook the first night he stayed over, back when you were still figuring each other out in that too-small apartment with the broken stove and mismatched bowls. He used to sit barefoot on the counter, freshly showered, stealing bites before you could plate anything.

But now?

Now you’re married to Satoru Gojo, and he’s pushing your daughter through a grocery store like it’s the highlight of his week—sunglasses shoved into his windblown white hair, sleeves rolled to his elbows, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

He’d just come off a string of missions, barely enough time to breathe between them, but when you mentioned needing to grab a few things, he immediately offered to come. Said he missed you. Said he wanted to do “normal stuff.”

Which might’ve sounded sweet, sure—until somewhere between produce and frozen foods, he completely veered off-script. And now, fifteen minutes in, your cart is a sugar bomb. Sour gummies. Five flavors of Pocky. A jumbo bag of marshmallows no one in your household has ever requested.

Though here he is, your husband, pushing your cart with one hand, lighting up in pure joy at every little treat you come across through the aisles.

“Satoru Gojo…” you deadpan as he reaches for a pack of cookies. “That is not on the list.”

Clicking his tongue, he holds them up like a sacred offering.

“Buuut… neither were you,” he hums, batting those ridiculously pretty blue eyes. “And yet—best thing I ever brought home.”

Narrowing your eyes, he smirks.

“’toru…” you sigh. “I really don’t think we need more sugar in this cart.”

Tilting his head, he pretends to ponder. “Need? …nah,” he tosses them in the basket anyway. “But, deserve? Absolutely.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn back to the list on your phone. You have… what—three items checked off? You’re pretty sure Satoru has added at least seven more. And, he seems to be multiplying his haul by the minute.

As you make your way down the next aisle, your daughter’s delighted squeal draws your attention. Glancing over your shoulder, there is Satoru—holding up two bags of candy to her like a game show host.

“Mmkay princess… choose wisely,” he whispers, low and dramatic. “Red or blue. You get one.”

Babbling, her little hands reach forward, grasping for the blue one.

“Ahhh… strong choice,” he nods, handing it over. And then, with zero shame, he drops the red bag into the cart behind her back.

“Ahem…” you squint, and he straightens. “You said one?”

“What? She picked hers,” he says, all innocence, sliding his sunglasses down onto the bridge of his nose. “This one’s mine.”

You groan, laughing despite yourself, as he resumes pushing the cart—now like it’s a racecar, swerving down the aisle while your daughter giggles.

“Please don’t teach her to shop like you,” you call out.

“Too late~” he sing-songs, vanishing around the corner, muttering under his breath, “Drifting into dairy… snack thrusters engaged…”

You sigh—but there’s no real frustration in it. Just warmth. Familiarity. Love.

Because sometimes you forget—you’re not in that cramped apartment anymore, counting coins and comparing brands. Not since Satoru. You still catch yourself reaching for the cheapest option, still instinctively scan barcodes and double-check price tags. But he never even looks. He just fills the cart like it’s second nature. Like full shelves and soft snacks and mochi picked on a whim are things you deserve.

You’re still learning how to live like this—where love doesn’t feel like a debt, and money isn’t something to fear. And even though he could buy out the entire store without blinking, he still treats picking out snacks with you like it’s the most important thing he’ll do all week.

Shaking your head, you turn back to the list. Soy sauce. You still need soy sauce for his dinner.

But as you round the corner, you don’t find the aisle you’re looking for—you find him instead, crouched in front of the freezer, elbows resting on his knees, two tubs of ice cream in hand.

Why is he studying them like he’s trying to defuse a bomb? He looks… entirely perplexed.

“Satoru…” you step up beside him, brow raised. “You good?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He doesn’t look up. “Just, uh… evaluating options.”

Glancing down at the tubs—matcha and black sesame—you fold your arms.

“Umm… you evaluating them for fun, or is this, like, an actual crisis?”

“Mmm… crisis is a strong word,” he mutters, still avoiding your gaze. “It’s just… strategy. Y’know. Ice cream strategy.”

Crouching down beside him, you rest your hand on his knee.

“Uh-huh…?”

There’s a pause.

Then, he sighs through his nose. “Alright… fine. I… couldn’t remember which one you liked more,” he admits. “I thought it was matcha. But then I remembered that one week you wouldn’t touch it, so now I’m stuck here like a dumbass, spiraling in the frozen aisle…”

You try not to laugh. “You’re spiraling over ice cream?”

“I’m spiraling because it’s you,” he huffs. “I wanted to surprise you… thought maybe we could stay up late and eat it in bed like we used to?”

Your teasing slips away, replaced with something soft.

“Oh… Satoru.”

He shrugs, like it’s no big deal, but there’s something in the way his voice lowers when he speaks again.

“I just… dunno. It feels like it’s been forever. Between missions, work, parenting—you’ve been running around nonstop. I just wanted tonight to feel kinda normal again. After dinner—after the princes goes to bed. Just… us? Even if it’s just ice cream.”

You watch him for a beat—your husband, who can bend reality, stand at the edge of the world, and still get hung up over picking the right tub of ice cream for you.

“I… like them both,” you mumble, bumping his shoulder gently against yours. “So why not both?”

He exhales like it physically relieves him. “Oh, thank god.”

You both stand, and without hesitation, he tosses both tubs into the basket.

“But… don’t go picking at mine and then pretending you didn’t like that flavor, okay?”

Grinning, you step ahead of him.

“Oh, I will steal yours. That’s marriage, babe.”

With a quiet laugh, he falls into step behind you.

“Brat.”

By the time you reach checkout, your cart holds three kinds of mochi ice cream, a suspiciously large bag of seaweed snacks, and absolutely no bread. Your daughter’s holding her bag of candy like it’s a stuffed animal, fussing while you try to scan it, and you’re juggling a reusable bag, along with what’s left of your patience while she begins to cry.

Noticing your frustration, Satoru slips in, insisting on scanning everything himself—for you. But when the self-checkout machine beeps loudly, his brows furrow and he pouts.

“The fuck? I did scan the damn carrots…” he mutters, narrowing his eyes, fumbling with the touch screen. “Don’t gaslight me... stupid thing..."

You sigh, somehow his presence makes the monotony feel… warm. And though this ‘quick trip’ has become what feels like an all-day event, you can’t deny how much you have also missed this man.

Outside, the air is soft with the promise of evening. Your daughter’s nodding off in her car seat, still hugging the candy bag like a teddy bear. Satoru loads the bags into the trunk with a proud little huff, dusting off his hands like he’s accomplished something huge.

“See?” he says, flashing a grin as he climbs into the passenger seat. “Told you grocery shopping as a family would be fun.”

You glance at the receipt. Then at him.

“You spent more in the snack aisle than on actual food….”

“I live off sugar and love. You know this.”

You roll your eyes, laughing under your breath as you slide into the driver’s seat. But as you buckle your seatbelt and glance down at the grocery list again, your heart sinks a little.

Did you…? Fuck.

You forgot the soy sauce.

Exhaling slowly, your gaze drifts over to Satoru in the passenger seat—slouched comfortably, eyes closed, perfectly content. The fading sun glows across his face, catching the edges of his smile.

“Y’know… I was gonna make your favorite tonight.”

His eyes open slowly. “Oh yeah?”

You nod. “But… we forgot the soy sauce.”

"...oh." He grimaces, genuinely. “Shit… I really thought I grabbed it,” he scratches the back of his head. “Want me to run back in real quick?”

You pause, then look at your daughter sleeping in the rearview mirror. Her gentle snore. The quiet hum of the car. The warmth in the air.

“No…” you murmur. “It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

You look at him again, and it hits you—not the ice cream, not the dinner. Little things like… this. Him. Her. This whole imperfect evening.

“Yeah… let’s get takeout,” you say, shifting the car into reverse. “We'll cuddle in bed. Split some ice cream.”

He smiles again, slow and warm.

“Deal.”

[maskedbyghost]

Hear me out, possessive reader plays a prank, or maybe to see how it would work out and starts acting wayyy less possessive, to the point of being a normal partner..

I NEED SI REACTION

Anon, I love your fucking mind. I had the best time writing this, literally giggling and kicking my feet while imagining Simon spiraling because his crazy girl went "normal mode" on him and he couldn’t handle it for even a second. BASED ON THIS IDEA

You barely looked at him when the waitress called him handsome.

You just smiled to yourself and kept sipping your drink, didn’t glare at her, didn’t grab his hand and lace your fingers through his, didn’t scoot closer in your seat or wrap your arms around him like you used to, and Simon sat there blinking at you like he’d just been slapped across the face.

And then when you walked past a group of girls at the grocery store and one of them giggled and said something about his arms, you didn’t even flinch, didn’t even frown, didn’t even murmur something low and territorial under your breath the way you always did, and Simon actually almost tripped over the cart trying to get a reaction out of you, heart hammering so hard.

You used to get pissed if he so much as looked at another woman too long, used to give him that smug little smirk when you caught someone staring at him, used to lean into him and press your mouth to his ear and mutter "mine" so dark and low that it left him shivering for hours, and now? Now you were just... chill.

Way too chill.

He caught himself thinking insane things like maybe you were losing interest, maybe you were getting ready to leave, maybe you finally realized he wasn’t enough for you, maybe you were pulling away slow and silent to make it easier when you walked out for good, and by the time you got home, Simon’s brain was working overtime, replaying every interaction, every glance, every smile you had given that wasn’t just for him, every time you hadn't touched him when you should have.

You didn’t steal his hoodie when he tossed it on the couch.

You didn’t scroll through his phone and make snarky comments about the girls who liked his photos.

You didn’t pull into his lap when he sat down to watch TV.

You didn’t tell him to shower because he "smelled like other people," which he always secretly loved, even though he rolled his eyes and grumbled about it every time.

You just... existed next to him.

Detached.

Simon sat there on the couch while you scrolled on your phone, completely casual, legs tucked under you, not touching him at all, and he was spiraling so badly he almost convinced himself he could physically see the relationship disintegrating in real time, piece by miserable piece.

He thought about asking if you still loved him.

He thought about proposing on the spot just to lock you down before you could change your mind.

He thought about texting Johnny and asking him if it was normal to feel like your entire world was slipping out from under you because your girlfriend wasn’t being a possessive lunatic for five seconds.

Finally, when you stood up and stretched and said, "I'm gonna head to bed" without even glancing at him, without even saying goodnight or trying to drag him with you, Simon couldn’t take it anymore.

He launched off the couch and followed you, heart pounding like he was about to get left behind at the airport or something, stomach twisted into a knot.

You climbed into bed and flipped onto your side, facing away from him like it was nothing, like you hadn’t spent months curling around him like a vine the second he lay down.

He just stood there at the foot of the bed, breathing way too hard for a normal human being, feeling an honest-to-God panic attack brewing in his chest.

"Love," he said, his voice way shakier than he wanted it to be.

You didn’t even roll over. "Hmm?"

He swallowed hard, hands fisting at his sides. "You don’t want me anymore."

You snorted. Actually snorted. "What are you talking about?"

Simon clenched his jaw so hard it hurt. "You—you’re not even—you didn’t get mad when that girl flirted with me. You didn’t steal my hoodie. You didn’t call me yours even once. You’re acting like we’re—" his voice cracked and he cursed under his breath, "—like we’re normal."

You turned slowly, propping yourself up on your elbow, and the look you gave him was so infuriatingly calm he almost burst into tears on the spot.

"You mean," you said, so evenly it made his eye twitch, "like a normal girlfriend who trusts her boyfriend?"

He stared at you, chest heaving, entire body screaming at him that something was wrong.

"You’re gonna leave me," he said, absolutely sure of it, absolutely certain this was the beginning of the end.

You blinked at him for a second, like you were trying very hard not to laugh in his stupid, panicking face, and then you moved so fast he barely had time to react—you were grabbing him by the front of his shirt, hauling him down onto the bed, straddling his hips, and pinning him there with your thighs as your hands locked around his neck, firm but not tight, just enough to make him shut up and listen.

"Listen to me, you stupid, beautiful man," you said, voice low and furious in that way that made every nerve in his body light up, "you need me just as much as I need you. You belong to me. You hear me? You are fucking mine. I’m not going anywhere; I’m never fucking leaving you. I don't want normal; I want you wrapped around my fucking finger where you belong. Don’t ever doubt that again."

You leaned in closer, your nose brushing his, your hands still gripping his neck just enough to keep him pinned under you, and you added, your voice dropping even lower, smug and wicked, "And maybe I wanted you to lose your fucking mind for a bit. Wanted you to see how much you love it when I’m unhinged about you."

Simon just exhaled like he’d been punched in the stomach and kissed at the same time, his whole body sagging against the bed.

He groaned, almost whining, burying his face against your chest with a muffled, desperate, "Fuckin’ hell, don’t ever do that to me again, you psycho."

But his arms were wrapping around you like steel, holding you so tight, and when you laughed and tugged his hair gently, he actually sighed in relief, like his whole world had finally clicked back into place.

"You’re crazy," he muttered again, not even trying to sound annoyed, his voice almost grateful.

"You love it," you said against his hair, grinning wide enough your cheeks hurt.

"Yeah," he breathed, voice raw and low and real, "yeah, I fuckin’ do. I need you crazy. Need you to ruin me a little. Keep me yours."

You kissed the side of his head, smug and sweet and savage all at once, and Simon just kept breathing you in, letting that awful gnawing terror bleed out of him one slow second at a time until there was nothing left but you, your hands, your voice, your body wrapped around him like armor, pulling him deeper, anchoring him exactly where he belonged.

And he was fine, better than fine actually, and exactly where he needed to be.

-----------------------------------------------

i can't even explain how much i love this idea...

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6

[lexcys]

★ observing rafe cameron x reader

summary: you were trying everything to hide the fact that you couldn’t stop staring at rafe, unbeknownst to you - he was secretly hoping you were

a/n: this is a surfer!rafe x shy!reader btw!! also this is like pretty much my first ever fanfic so I have no idea what the fuck I am doing so sorry if this is literal ass 😭 no mention of a fem!reader besides the fact that the womans bathroom gets entered

you felt the heat of the sun on your skin as you stepped out of the twinkie. the soft crash of the distant waves barely audible over the hum of the pogues voices

stepping onto the beach, a surge of excitement hits you. the day you and the pogues have been counting down to all week has finally arrived

you take one final glance into your bag, double-checking for anything you might have forgotten—sunscreen, snacks, a book, and a few other trinkets, satisfied you make your way over to your usual spot ready to take off your tshirt and shorts which hid your swim wear underneath, until you spotted someone out of the corner of your eye

rafe cameron

somehow the kooks had managed to pick the exact same date, place and time to visit the beach as you and your friends

while the others were hastly running towards the water stripping on the way down, paying no attention to the kooks, kie stayed back waiting for you

she was already in her bikini while your clothes weren’t even close to leaving your body and landing on the ground

''you coming?'' she asked, hand on her forehead shielding her from the burning sun

''umm'', taking a quick glance around you searched the beach in a, hopefully, unsuspicious way trying to locate rafe again

glancing down you turned your gaze elsewhere, you hoped the sudden heat entering your body was from the sun and not from the sight of rafe taking his shirt off

''I’ll join you guys later, I’m a little dizzy right now'', you spoke swiftly looking up at her, hoping to not get caught in the little white lie

all though kie nodded, the flicker of confusion in her eyes and a quick look behind you told you all you needed to know

you had never verbally stated your attraction to the him but you were pretty sure almost anybody could’ve guessed with the way you tensed up or seemed quieter and clumsier whenever he was in close proximity

taking off your top and shorts you shot a look over to the pogues who were already splashing and practically drowning each other. you giggled while settling down onto your beach towel before applying sunscreen and laying down on your stomach with a book in hand

even though your book was very interesting, the sight in front of you was much more enticing

rafe was currently riding a pretty common wave, yet you found yourself unable to stop staring

you adjusted your book hoping to hide the fact that you were practically ogling at the cameron boy

he was far enough out that you couldn’t make out the details but you still caught the way his hair stuck to his face, the way his body twisted with the rythm of the wave and the way he… kept turning his head towards you?

it seemed like he was looking for you, looking to see if you were watching him

cheeks burning, you try to push your delusions aside trying to find the passage you were reading earlier

you take another peek at him and by the the time you do, he was already out of the water, walking towards his friends with the biggest fucking grin, beaming with pride and confidence, already seeming to rave about the wave he just rode

hearing jj’s laugh you swiftly adjust and pretend to be reading your book that was definitely more interesting than staring at rafe’s wet body and stupid grin

while jj kept whining about how john b, supposedly, almost drowned him they both settled down on your left, luckily on the side where the kooks were lounging

fortunately he also kept talking which meant you were able to peep right past his face and steal short glances towards rafe

it was almost impossible for you to keep your eyes off of him. it didn’t matter where you would see him, you were always stealing glances or simply staring at him from a distance. others could call this stalking but you liked to call it observing, you liked watching him, but not in a creepy way, more so you were admiring him, he was pretty

you liked his side profile, the way his bangs framed his face, the way his eyes looked in the sun, the way his shirts hung onto his fit body - you noticed the way he was very articulate with his hands, which were always adorned with the same two rings, the way the corner of his lips turned downwards whenever he tried not to smile

noticing him facing you, eyeing your group, the staring quickly stopped

at this point the distance between the two groups was too small for your liking because of course the kooks had to settle down as closely as possible to the pogues - it was somehow impossible for them to keep their distance

given the short distance, whenever you actually were brave enough to look again it seemed like he was meeting your gaze, trying to maintain eye contact

heart beating way too fast and cheeks burning, you turn away from jj trying to initiate a conversation with sarah, who was sitting on your right

after a while of, luckily, managing to keep your head from spinning towards him, to meet his gaze - aside from the occasional looks to jj or john b whenever they were contributing to the conversation - you were desperate to get up, to empty your bladder

you dreaded getting up, fully aware that the beach bar was situated just behind the kooks, it meant walking past rafe and the mere thought of that unnerved you - every step would make you acutely aware of your surroundings, mind racing, until the very thought of moving felt like it might turn your legs into jelly

examining the scene quickly you notice half of the kooks gone, including rafe, they must’ve left when you weren’t looking - you feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders while also immediately feeling a certain misery overtaking you

this unrequited crush was spiraling out of control

strutting over to the bar you take notice of ruthie with another girl sitting at one of the tables and kelce talking to the bartender seeming to be cracking jokes instead of ordering

walking past them you try to keep your gaze relatively low to avoid any sort of interaction. turning into the small hallway of the bar you exhale a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding

the calmness doesn’t last long because as you round the corner to reach the toilets you spot him, standing in front of the mens bathroom, phone in hand and looking quite bored

before you get the chance to look away he lifts his head and notices you, he smiles - you smile back, a very awkward smile

relatively quickly you turn your head away and enter the women’s bathroom. your head becoming a blur, suddenly already washing your hands ready to leave the bathroom

he must’ve left already, right?

''topper are you fucking coming, man?!'', you catch rafe through the door

your plan of immediately leaving and paying him no mind, began to falter two seconds after stepping out of the bathroom

''hey, y/n'', you hear from behind you, shit

you freeze up for a second, caught off guard, before composing yourself and turning around

immediately drawn to him, you couldn’t help but notice the way his hair had dried in quite a messy way, his slightly squinted eyes and the slight smirk splayed across his face

''how are you?'' he questions before you had the chance to greet him back

''I’m doing fine'', you manage to exclaim, nearly tripping over your words before adding the usual ''and you?''

you dig in your mind trying to recall the last time you’d exchanged words beyond the usual "hi" or "hey''

''ditto'',

apparently not completely satisified with your answer, he regards you for a moment, the stare causing a warmth to creep up your neck as you shifted uneasily

''why did your friends leave you all alone over there?'', rafe inquired with a raised brow - a hint of curiosity in his tone, ''they seemed to be enjoying themeselves''

letting out a soft exhale you answer him, attempting to maintain eye contact but faltering almost immediately, ''I wasn’t feeling so good'' was all you manage to muster before adding the word, ''dizzy'' in a rather whispered voice, as you lied through your teeth, hoping he wouldn’t see through it

if he did, he didn’t let on ''are you feeling better now?’'

you nod quickly, meeting his gaze

looking up at him with those almost innocent eyes, he can’t help but offer, ''are you sure? I can get you a glass of water'', an unrecognisable sweetness laced his voice, softening his usual edge

taken aback by his unexpected offer you hesitate before denying his offer by simply shaking your head

he let out a quiet snort, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he watched you struggle to give a simple answer

''what book were you reading?'', he asked, his smirk widening as he leaned further back into the wall, clearly amused at the way the conversation was turning into a playful interrogation, as if he found some strange satisfaction in making you squirm just a little bit

you froze, your mind going blank, searching for the title before realising you genuinely couldn’t remember, maybe because you weren’t actually reading the book

like a savior, topper emerged from the bathroom, a flicker of confusion passing across his face as he scanned the scene before moving past you both, muttering a quiet "let’s go," clearly directed at rafe

for a split second, it looked like frustration crossed rafe’s face, fleeting before you could overthink it, flashing you a smile he pushed himself off the wall and made his way past you

but before he completely disappeared out of view, he turned back with a smirk and called over his shoulder,

''hope you enjoyed the show earlier''

oh

[whorelaud]

reader doing the ‘he’s the best big brother ever’ trend on bf!rafe warnings none/rafe being salty in reader’s comments

Rafe’s gaze hovered over your figure, admiring as you shuffled around to adjust the phone positioned on the counter. You set the timer, stealing a glance in Rafe’s direction, who stood and observed like a lost puppy; unaware of what to do with himself. “I’ll start recording on three, please don’t say or do anything weird, okay? My account is done for if another post of mine gets flagged.”

“Alright baby, start it.” He assured, his statement not convincing whatsoever. You simply rolled your eyes, doing as he ordered, hurrying to press the record button. You straightened up, taking Rafe’s side as you fixed up your hair, instantly flashing the camera a smile when the blue line appeared on the screen. 

Rafe crossed his arms, brows knitting into a frown upon hearing your next words. “If you wanna get to him,” you started, suppressing your giggles as you addressed Rafe with your thumb, then back at your chest. “You’ll have to go through me first.” 

“What are you saying?” Rafe scoffed, slightly taken aback when you turned around, your arms filling the majority of the view. You reached for his face, cupping his cheeks in your hold as you forced his head down, until his eyes leveled with yours. 

Rafe instantly melted when you sweeped him in a kiss, arms naturally finding the curve of your waist, in an attempt to deepen the kiss. A groan of complaint bubbled out of his throat when you moved away, not giving him the satisfaction of getting what he wants, and instead turning back to the camera, with his hand loosely hugging your side. 

“He’s the best big brother ever!” You uttered between chuckles,  sensing the way Rafe stiffened from your side. 

“What the fuck?!” His eyes widened with shock, flashing you a look of disbelief, watching as you erupted into a fit of laughter, unable to maintain character at your boyfriend’s reaction. “Best what now? Delete that shit!” 

“Oh my–” you continue to giggle, amused by the hint of annoyance washing over Rafe’s expression. “You’re the best, I can't ask for a better brother figure–” 

“Enough with your bullshit, man!” He interrupted before you could further speak, aiming for the phone. “You and your stupid TikTok challenges.” 

“Wait, Rafe!” You snatched your phone from his hold, knowing the latter;  he was probably going to delete it. “I’m posting it, your reaction is funny.” 

“You’re not posting that!” He argued, groaning when he strived to take your phone, merely for you to dodge his hold. “C’mon baby, what if they actually think I’m your brother? You already have so many thirsty men in your comments.” 

“Relax, baby.” You rolled your eyes, embracing the boy in a hug, too engrossed by the video on your phone to spare him a glance. “It’s a trend, besides, who in their right mind kisses their brother?” 

Yeah, maybe you should’ve listened to your boyfriend. 

–

andy6928h Let daddy take you out on a date

rafecameron Hop off her dick

alibabefaen Check your Dms for A surprise 👅

rafecameron This is not funny.

user6292936 Get rid of that twig hun 🌹 I will treat you so much better

rafecameron She is completely fine and content with me, therefore, she will NOT be needing you, thanks.

rafecameron Actually yk what f*ck you 🖕🏼

rafecameron Stop hitting on MY girl please and thanks. She is MINE.

a/n old trend ik... but this was too cute not to do :'(

[sinkuna]

╰┈➤ Nanami Kento

"You're making such a mess," Nanami sighs, but there's a playful glint in his eyes as you dance away while flicking at him with fingers full of flour, giggling as it poofs across his pristine suit.

"Am i?" you tease, shrieking with laughter as he stalks toward you, his arms outstretched as though he means to catch you.

The honey bread baking fills the kitchen with a sweet smell, almost as sweet as your teasing giggles.

"You are," he tells you, his lips tugging upward as he lunges for you, purposefully missing so that he could watch you dance away.

"Maybe you should help me clean up then," you suggest innocently, deliberately bending over- acting as if you were going to pick up something. His sharp intake of breath tells you he's noticed you're bare beneath that thin pink apron you've been parading around.

As Nanami reaches up to loosen his tie, and you can see his cock stirring against his slacks.

"Such a naughty little baker." he purrs, suddenly pressed against your back, his large arms circling you from behind, those addictive veiny hands of his slipping into the apron leaving white handprints across your breasts as he kneads them tenderly.

"Getting my suit dirty… making a mess of my kitchen…" His voice deepens as you grind shamelessly against his bulge.

"I- I was just trying to make you honey bread, hone- eep!"

You gasp as he spins you around, lifting you onto the counter with such ease.

Flour puffs into the air as he spreads your thighs wide, leaving dusty handprints everywhere he touches, "And such a beautiful little baker i've seen to have caught," he murmurs fondly, leaving floury fingerprints on your cheeks as he cups your face, "What am I going to do with you?"

╰┈➤ Gojo Satoru

"The cake needs decorating!" you protest through giggles as Gojo steals another fingerful of frosting, painting it across your collarbone before licking it off with a sly grin.

"I am decorating~," he argues playfully, blue eyes bright as he corners you against the counter, "Just found a much prettier dessert…" More frosted fingers trail down your inner thigh as he drops to his knees, "And it tastes so much sweeter too~"

You try to scold him, but his tongue darts out to lap up the frosting, leaving you shivering instead. He lifts your leg over his shoulder, giving him better access and making you clutch the edge of the countertop, your toes curling. He works slowly, teasingly, until he reaches your knee. By then, you're a shaking mess, whimpering softly, and when he suddenly pulls away, you're almost embarrassed by the needy sound you make.

He stands, licking his lips and smirking at the way you lean towards him, trying to pull him back into range, "I think you’re right though. Cake is more important."

"Mean!" you complain, and his smirk grows.

"Mean~?"

You nod, pouting slightly, "I'm gonna make sure you have blue balls forever now."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" he asks, and you shove him in the chest, only earning a laugh as he slowly sinks back down- his hands holding your legs apart before he huffs against your inner thigh, "Then again, i think i rather frost these pretty thighs instead…"

He glances up at you with a grin, "Now be a good girl and lift your leg back over my shoulder, I want to make sure I don't miss a spot."

You can't resist. You never could when it came to him.

With a shaky nod, you rest your heel on his shoulder, your leg trembling as he paints intricate patterns with the frosting before slowly, achingly, lapping them off.

"So delicious," he hums against your skin, kissing your inner thigh, "but…" his long lashes flutter as he nuzzles closer, "there's a part I've been dying to taste~"

"S-satoru-"

"Shhh~" he presses his mouth to your sex, his tongue darting out to taste you and you nearly scream, "Can't wait to stuff this pretty little cake with cream~"

╰┈➤ Geto Suguru

"You have flour on your nose," he chuckles warmly, swiping it off while you try to shape cookie dough hearts for Nanako and Mimiko. His arms wrap around your waist from behind, chin resting on crown of your head as he watches you struggle to make the dough do what you want. You try to keep focused, but his warm breath and body against yours makes you a little lightheaded.

"Y-you're distracting me," you complain without heat, melting back against his chest as he hums contentedly.

He steals a bit of dough, offering it to you with gentle fingers, "Can't help it," he murmurs, pressing soft kisses behind your ear, "You're too adorable in that apron, making treats just for the girls… I think I'll keep you."

Your cheeks heat at the praise, heart fluttering in your chest, and you're pretty sure you could live in this moment forever. Dropping the dough, you turn in his arms, leaving floury handprints on his dark robe as you pull him down for a kiss. He tastes like cookie dough and happiness, making you smile against his lips.

"The cookies will never get done at this rate," you whisper as he lifts you effortlessly onto a clean spot on the counter, settling between your legs with that tender smile you adore.

"There's plenty of time," he says simply, stealing another sweet kiss, deeper and longer this time, long fingers threading through your hair.

An hour goes by and the front door creaks open as two pairs of small feet patter inside from their adventures. Nanako and Mimiko pause at the living room entrance, twin grins spreading across their faces at the sight the find.

There on the couch, you and Geto are sound asleep, their papa’s arms wrapped protectively around you. His long dark hair is dusted white with flour and dried cookie dough crusted adorably on his nose. Your hair is equally disheveled, face mimicking his with equal parts dough and flour.

"Look! Look! They made cookies!" Mimiko whispers excitedly, pointing to the beautifully decorated plate on the small kitchen table.

Nanako spots the note and clutches her sister's hand, both girls beaming at the simple message you wrote: "Love you both ❤️"

[reissancesstuff]

“we’re not gonna steal a baby, satoru.”

genre: fluff, domestic softness, comedy, future family teasing

it starts with yuuji showing up at your shared apartment door looking absolutely stressed.

he’s got a three-year-old girl in his arms—soft pigtails, sparkly shoes, and big doe eyes blinking curiously at you.

“hi! uh, this is kira—my niece. i’m babysitting,” he says, and you raise an eyebrow just as satoru pokes his head out from the kitchen.

“adorable,” you say. “what’s the catch?”

“i just got a mission,” yuuji sighs. “one that doesn’t involve toddlers. can you help me out?”

before he even finishes, you’re already crouching down with a smile, cooing at the little girl.

“hi there, princess,” you grin, watching her peek from behind yuuji’s shoulder. “you wanna stay with me for a little while?”

kira nods shyly.

satoru leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, amusement lighting up his face. “you’re really volunteering for this?”

you shoot him a look. “you fight curses. i babysit. balance.”

—

about thirty minutes later, you’re seated on the living room floor, kira climbing over couch cushions like they’re a castle. her laughter fills the room like sunshine, and you can’t stop smiling, encouraging her imaginary quests and dramatic tumbles.

“you’re really good with kids,” satoru comments, flopping down on the couch nearby. his blindfold is pushed up onto his forehead, his silver-white lashes catching the light as he watches you with a rare softness in his expression.

you glance over your shoulder. “you could try playing with us, you know.”

“i’m not great with tiny humans,” he shrugs.

“you’re literally the biggest child here.”

he opens his mouth to retort, but then kira runs right up to him, placing her hands on his knees.

“up?” she asks sweetly.

and you just grin.

“come on, satoru,” you tease. “you’re not gonna say no to her, are you?”

he groans, dramatic. “fine. but only because you asked.”

you watch him lift kira into his lap—she fits so easily against him, curling into his chest like a little kitten. she starts babbling, little nonsense phrases that mean absolutely nothing, one of her small hands gripping his shirt while the other pats his chest with purpose.

“what’s she saying?” satoru mumbles, confused.

“absolutely no clue,” you laugh. “but she seems to like you.”

“she’s got taste.”

then—kira giggles, grabbing both sides of his face in her tiny hands and squishing his cheeks.

satoru freezes.

you melt.

the sight of him—six-foot-something, strongest sorcerer, smug menace—reduced to a wide-eyed babysitter with a toddler squishing his face is too much to handle.

so you do what any sane person would do.

you snap a photo.

click.

he blinks. “did you just—?”

“i’m gonna set it as my lockscreen,” you smirk.

—

eventually, yuuji returns. a little worn out, but clearly relieved to find kira unharmed and happily playing tea party with you and satoru.

“thanks so much,” he says, scooping kira into his arms. she yawns, curling into him instantly.

you kiss the top of her head gently. “bye, kira. come visit again.”

and just like that, they’re off—walking down the hallway, yuuji carrying her with a soft hum under his breath.

the apartment grows quiet.

megumi and nobara are on the floor finishing the snacks (where did they even come from?), and you’re tidying up the cushion chaos when satoru suddenly speaks.

“i want that.”

you pause. “…want what?”

he’s standing by the window, watching the hall. his voice is casual, but you catch the way his fingers twitch at his sides.

“that.” he points, and you follow his gaze—yuuji walking away, kira in his arms, her small head tucked against his shoulder.

you raise an eyebrow. “we’re not gonna steal a baby, satoru.”

he turns to you, grinning.

“we’re not gonna steal one.” he takes a step closer, that signature glint in his eyes. “we’re gonna make one.”

you open your mouth.

megumi and nobara choke.

“why are you guys having a family plan in front of us?!” megumi cries, looking genuinely distressed.

nobara covers her face. “i’m too young to be an aunt.”

you ignore them, face warm, staring at satoru’s smug little smile.

“you’re serious?”

he leans in, his hand brushing yours.

“as serious as i’ve ever been,” he whispers. “you, me, little versions of us wreaking havoc.”

“we already have yuuji for that,” you mutter, heart skipping a beat anyway.

“yeah, but this one would have your eyes,” he says, thumb gently stroking over your knuckles. “and hopefully not my sugar addiction.”

you look at him—really look—and for once, he isn’t joking. not entirely. he’s soft. earnest. hopeful.

you smile.

“let’s talk about it over dinner,” you say.

he grins, slipping his arm around your waist.

“as long as i’m dessert.”

megumi groans audibly. “i’m leaving.”

nobara is already halfway out the door.

and satoru?

he just presses a kiss to your cheek and whispers, “ours is gonna be cuter than kira.”

you roll your eyes—but you don’t disagree.

[ari-ana-bel-la]

i was wondering if you could write a fic where reader is kelly’s older child from a past relationship and feels left out at times cause kelly and P are much closer than she is with kelly. but basically max is overprotective of her and always wants to involve her in things

he brings her to races, makes sure she doesn’t feel left out at family gatherings or f1 events. he even brags abt her accomplishments to other drivers

More Than Words

The paddock buzzed with its usual energy—mechanics in motion, media everywhere, fans cheering from behind barriers. Max walked through it all with a quiet purpose, his eyes searching the crowd until he spotted her: Yn, sitting on a low wall near the Red Bull hospitality unit, her arms wrapped around her knees, earbuds in, chin resting on her folded arms.

He made his way to her slowly, giving her time to notice him. She didn’t. So, he tapped her shoulder gently.

"Hey," he said softly.

Yn looked up, blinking out of whatever world her music had her in. Her face immediately softened when she saw Max. “Hey,” she mumbled, pulling one earbud out.

"You alright?" he asked, crouching in front of her so he could be eye level.

She nodded, but it wasn’t convincing.

Max tilted his head. "That was a very enthusiastic nod."

She gave a tiny smile. “Just tired.”

Max didn’t press her. He knew that tired didn’t always mean sleep-deprived—it was the kind of tired that settled into your bones when you felt invisible.

“Come on,” he said, holding out his hand. “We’ve got ice cream in the motorhome.”

She hesitated, glancing toward the hospitality unit where she knew Kelly and Penelope were. “I think I’ll just stay here.”

Max’s smile faded, just slightly. He sat next to her instead, letting his knees bump against hers. “You know, I told Checo yesterday that you got a 94 on that science paper. He asked if you were tutoring.”

Yn blinked at him. “You did?”

“Of course. I mean, how many sixteen-year-olds can explain astrophysics to me without even Googling stuff?”

She flushed, hiding a small grin. “I didn’t explain that much…”

“You talked about black holes for twenty minutes. I nearly re-evaluated my whole existence.”

She giggled. “I didn’t even think you were listening.”

Max turned to face her fully, his voice firm but kind. “I always listen to you, Yn.”

She went quiet again. After a beat, she said, “Mom doesn’t.”

Max felt that one land in his chest like a punch.

He didn’t speak for a moment, just gently placed a hand over hers. “I know it feels like that sometimes.”

Yn nodded, biting her lip. “She and P are always laughing together. Watching TikToks, doing their little dances… She doesn’t even ask me how school is anymore unless I bring it up. And then it’s just, ‘That’s good,’ and she moves on.”

Max swallowed. “I see it, too. And it’s not fair. You shouldn’t have to ask for her attention.”

She looked down, her voice smaller. “I don’t even talk to my dad. He texted me ‘k’ last week when I said happy birthday. That’s the only thing I’ve heard all year.”

Max exhaled slowly, his fingers curling protectively around hers. “That’s not okay. That’s not your fault, Yn. He doesn’t get to make you feel unwanted.”

She didn’t cry—but she looked like she might. Her voice shook just a little. “Sometimes it just feels like I’m… extra. Like I’m just there, and no one really notices unless I mess up or get in the way.”

Max shook his head. “Not with me.”

Yn looked up at him.

“Listen,” he said. “You’re not ‘extra,’ okay? You’re you. Smart, funny, a little sarcastic—okay, a lot sarcastic—but also kind. You always help Penelope when she needs something, even when she’s being annoying.”

“She’s always being annoying,” Yn muttered.

Max grinned. “Exactly. And you still help her. You let her play with your hair. You let her steal your hoodies.”

“She stretched out my favorite one…”

“And you didn’t even yell at her. You deserve to be seen, Yn. You deserve to be loved loud.”

She blinked again, her eyes a little glassy. “You always say the nicest things.”

“I just tell the truth.”

Yn leaned her head against his shoulder, and Max rested his head against hers.

After a long pause, she asked, “Do you ever wish I wasn’t around?”

“What?” Max pulled back to look at her properly. “Not for a single second. If anything, I wish I met you earlier.”

She laughed softly. “That would’ve been hard, I was like… eight.”

“Exactly,” Max said. “I could’ve started bragging about you sooner.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling now.

Max stood and offered her his hand again. “Come on. Let’s get ice cream. You can pick the flavor this time.”

“Even if it’s cookie dough?”

“You know that’s my weakness,” he said dramatically. “You’re exploiting my love.”

She finally took his hand, letting him pull her up. As they started walking, Max slung an arm around her shoulder. “Also, I signed you up for that STEM summer camp you mentioned. Don’t worry—I’ll drive you every day if I have to.”

Yn stopped in her tracks. “You did what?”

He smirked. “It’s not until July. You’ve got time to prepare. Or pack.”

“You’re serious?”

“Completely. I figured you might not push for it if you thought no one cared.”

Her face was unreadable for a moment, then she slowly whispered, “Thank you.”

Max gave her a one-armed hug, squeezing her into his side. “Always. You’re stuck with me, Yn.”

As they approached the motorhome, Penelope darted out with a grin and ran straight to Yn. “Can we do your hair again? I brought the glitter clips!”

Yn blinked. She looked to Max for a second—he just nodded.

“Sure,” she said finally, and Penelope squealed, pulling her inside.

Kelly stood near the door, distractedly on her phone. She glanced up briefly. “Oh hey, sweetheart,” she said, barely meeting Yn’s eyes. “Did you eat lunch?”

“Yeah,” Yn answered automatically.

Kelly smiled for a second and returned to texting.

Max watched the exchange silently, then stepped closer to Kelly.

“You know she got a 94 on that science paper, right?”

Kelly glanced up. “Oh… That’s great.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you should tell her that.”

Kelly blinked at him, then looked over at Yn and Penelope giggling inside. For a moment, her face shifted—something like guilt or realization washing over her.

Max didn’t say more. He just turned to follow Yn inside.

Because he meant it.

She was his kid, too.

And he was going to make sure she always knew it.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-🩷🎀

[delugyu]

by a string

summary: Yeonjun’s got a lot on his plate. Not only does he have to worry about being a star student, but he also has to be the city’s web-slinging hero. And a lab intern. And a semi-decent roommate. And a little bit in love with you.

pairings: yeonjun x fem!reader

word count: 18.9k

tags: fluff, smut (mdni), some angst, spiderman!yeonjun, his webs shoot from his actual wrists like tobey maguire’s spiderman, college au, yeonjun is a cute awkward charming nerd, inaccurate science stuff sorry, blood, physical violence, lots of spidey shenanigans, campy weird action scene teehee, small arguments

smut tags: making out, heavy petting, webs as cuffs LOLLL, thigh riding, edging, fingering, praise, unprotected sex, cum eating, oral (f rec.), yeonjun is so playful and such a tease

notes: omg she’s finally here!!! i am so excited to get this out to u guys hehe<3 tysm for all the love on the teaser, i hope spideyjjun steals ur heart. enjoy the fic !!!

Saving the city can suck sometimes. Homework sucks significantly more. If Yeonjun had the option to zip through the city chasing some bad guys instead of sitting here trying to finish his calculus assignment, he’d be flying out his window in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, responsibility is a virtue, and Yeonjun cannot swing through the city for no good reason.

The one good thing about this tedious, awful calculus homework is that if it’s hard enough, he always gets a text from you. His body springs to life when he hears his phone buzz, rushing to pick it up and check the notification.

[you] have u done the calc homework

[you] how do you solve #4 :(

Do most of your conversations revolve around your shared class? Yes. Does Yeonjun ever get tired of teaching you the concepts? No, never. In fact, he stretches out his explanations as long as possible to keep you talking to him longer. Yeonjun never knew before that math talk could make his heart flutter.

“So, does that make sense?” he asks after a long-winded explanation. He’s almost out of breath after spewing out so much math jargon, but being on a call with you for ten minutes has similarly breathtaking effects.

“Yeah. Thanks, Yeonjun.” He bites back a giggle upon hearing your words. “You should seriously be teaching this class,” you say with a laugh.

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t—I mean, I’m—I’m more of a science guy,” he stammers out, lips tightening into a thin line at the embarrassment of stumbling over his own sentence. “Our professor’s pretty cool, too,” he adds as if that saves him at all.

“Is he? Maybe I should start going to his office hours,” you muse.

Oh. Well in that case, your professor sucks. Yeonjun can’t have you stop coming to him for math help; you’d never talk to him at all if it came to that!

“He’s not that cool,” Yeonjun says. You laugh, and he huffs out a short chuckle too.

“Noted. I’m gonna go now, but thanks for helping me. You’re the best.” Your praise goes straight to Yeonjun’s head, making him feel like the greatest man to ever live. He doesn’t even feel this accomplished after going out on his little spidey-missions.

He’s a beat too late to say goodbye or good night to you, the call already hanging up as he opens his mouth to speak. He melts into a puddle over his desk, sighing out as he plays back his conversation with you in his head. He thinks you have the prettiest voice he’s ever heard. You’re so smart, too. He never has to over exert himself to get you to understand, though he would happily do that for you.

He jolts up as his roommate walks into his dorm. Yeonjun glances at him quickly as he straightens out his posture, picking his pencil back up and returning to his homework.

“Hey,” his roommate, Soobin, greets quietly. Yeonjun didn’t know Soobin prior to this semester, but he’s been pretty nice. He’s very quiet, but very respectful of Yeonjun’s space. It’s much appreciated, considering Yeonjun’s hiding a few of his red and blue spandex suits in his closet.

“Hey. How was your day?” Yeonjun asks, only half-interested in the conversation.

He watches Soobin shrug from his peripheral as he slides off his shoes. “Normal,” he answers.

Yeonjun nods. “Cool.” The conversation kind of dies after that, which is fine. Soobin isn’t the most extroverted person, and Yeonjun doesn’t push him to talk more than he’s willing to. He sometimes forgets he even has a roommate with how quiet it gets in the room.

Yeonjun regains his focus a minute into the silence. His eyes widen when he realizes that there’s now a doodle of your face on his calculus homework—when did that get there..? His face heats up as he grabs an eraser from his desk’s drawer. Thank god he didn’t do this assignment in pen.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Yeonjun’s not really paying attention to the professor, finding more interest in taking quick glances at you. You’re wearing a different bracelet today. It’s really pretty—maybe he should compliment you on it. Is it weird to lean in and tell you that? Are you close enough where he can compliment you without looking weird and creepy?

He rests his head in his hand and starts doodling in his notebook, mindlessly scribbling on the page while he waits for the lecture to end. He thinks of quick conversational things to say, something to discuss in a few minutes when it’s time to pack your bags and leave. Interesting class, right? Who would’ve thought—Yeonjun looks up at the projector to see the professor’s notes—the shell method… would be so cool… Maybe he shouldn’t say that, actually.

He’s honestly better off not trying to strike up a conversation with you at all; the chances of it leading to total and utter embarrassment lean greatly towards one hundred percent. He just wishes he had a little more spine, or that he was naturally a little cooler. The only interesting thing about him is something he can’t even talk to you about, or with anyone at all.

Yeonjun barely registers it when the professor dismisses class. He steals one last glance toward you, lips parting like he finally built up the courage to speak, but the words build up in his throat and die on his tongue. He seals his lips and focuses his gaze back on his own things, closing his notebook and shoving it in his bag. It’s not worth it. He decides he’ll just keep his mouth shut.

“Hey Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun almost jumps out of his seat, and he has to fight away his nerves as he turns to you. You’re packing your things back into your bag, not even looking at him. A part of him thinks he might be hearing things until your eyes meet his, waiting for an answer.

“Yeah?” he responds, voice coming out strained. He clears his throat.

“We’re friends, right?” you ask. He blinks, feeling like this is some kind of trick. He analyzes your face, making sure there’s nothing snide or teasing hidden in your question. You look honest enough, which puts him at ease.

“Yeah, for sure.”

“I hope that’s not sarcasm,” you say, getting up from your seat and adjusting your bag over your shoulders.

“It’s not! Really, we’re friends,” he reassures. You walk past him and he follows, leaving the classroom and entering the busy hallway.

“Well, good. I wanted you to go with me somewhere.” Your statement is wildly cryptic, and it leaves Yeonjun’s mind whirling with the possibilities of what you might offer.

“Right now?” he asks. “I-I have class…” As much as he likes you, he really can’t risk dropping his grade due to missed attendance.

You laugh, “No, tonight. There’s this party, and I”—you keep talking, but Yeonjun barely registers it. He’s never partied in college before. What would he even do at a party? He can’t handle his drinks well, and he’s not sure how well he’d blend into that kind of environment. He’s scared he’d make a fool of himself.

As you leave the academic building, you turn to Yeonjun, raising a brow in question. You must have asked him for his confirmation. Yeonjun forces his brain to rack up a response.

“Could you text me the details..?” Yeonjun asks. You relax a little at his words, nodding happily. You pull out your phone, ready to text him now. Yeonjun feels his heart pounding. He catches sight of the time on your phone, noticing he’s only got five minutes until his next class. The hall he’s supposed to be in is at least a three minute walk from here.

“There,” you say, awarding Yeonjun with a grin so bright that being late to class might just be worth it. “I really hope to see you there.” You tilt your head a little, and Yeonjun feels starstruck.

“You will,” he promises mindlessly.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Yeonjun feared he might’ve been in trouble when his professor asked him to stay after class. Turns out, it’s something much worse.

“Yeonjun, do you think you could help in the lab later today?”

Yeonjun doesn’t think much before he nods. “Yeah, of course, how much later?”

“Around 6 this evening,” his professor answers. Yeonjun’s heart drops. That would be perfectly fine any other day, but he promised to go out with you today. Of course the party would start at the same time Yeonjun’s professor wants him to stop by the lab.

“I’m not sure I have the time,” Yeonjun says quickly, suddenly fidgety and feeling antsy to leave the room. “I’ve got this… thing to do.” His professor doesn’t look too convinced. Yeonjun wants to facepalm himself. Yeah, great excuse.

The professor sighs, but Yeonjun starts up again before his professor can say anything. “I can come in earlier! I’m free right now, so I could just go over after this.”

“The cells we’re working with need a full 24 hours in culture for the sake of our research. Are you sure you can’t push your plans forward? Or back?” he asks.

Yeonjun’s stomach twists with guilt. He knows he shouldn’t let his professor down. Yeonjun’s kind of counting on him to write his recommendation letter for a graduate program, too.

“I’ll push the plans back,” Yeonjun says, giving in. He hopes the dejection isn’t too evident in his voice. His professor smiles and pats Yeonjun’s shoulder in thanks. He half-listens as his professor gives him the usual rundown of what to do during and after the process, nodding along and holding back the frown that tries to tug at his lips.

When Yeonjun finally leaves the building, he lets out the heaviest sigh of his life. His shoulders sag, and he feels like he might be the unluckiest person in the world. You finally give him attention outside of just asking for homework help, and the universe just had to intervene. This is laughable. It’s also stupid. Annoying. Frustrating.

There’s a pout etched onto Yeonjun’s face as he walks back to his dorm. He’s got a couple hours until he needs to go to the lab, so maybe he can take a nap or tidy up his room a little. His head hangs low, gaze transfixed on the sidewalk, kicking along a small pebble that keeps him company on the way.

He only picks his head back up as he walks past a certain field of grass, one he often finds you sitting in. Sometimes you’re on your laptop, sometimes you’re taking notes in a textbook, but most of the time you’re just lounging and doing nothing. It’s almost inspiring. Yeonjun would probably benefit from relaxing and decompressing more.

You’re there, sitting cross-legged on the grass, peaceful and silent. You look up suddenly, making eye contact with Yeonjun. His face flushes, but before he can turn his head in embarrassment, you raise your hand and wave. Yeonjun almost stops in his tracks. You’re waving at him, acknowledging his existence yet again.

He smiles and waves back, failing to tame his heartbeat as he takes the sight of you in. He’s forced to look away when he nearly stumbles over the pebble he’s been kicking around—“Oh, shit!” he utters, quietly enough to not draw attention to himself.

He glances back at you casually, making sure you didn’t witness him tripping. Fortunately, you’re on your phone, no longer paying him any mind.

Back at his dorm, Yeonjun stands by his closet, contemplating what exactly to wear tonight. He also has to make sure his outfit is lab-friendly, so the loose sweater he’d been eyeing is a no-go. He sighs, looking at himself in the mirror. Maybe the t-shirt and jeans he’s wearing now will suffice.

Time passes slowly, slow enough for Yeonjun to clean his half of the room, make himself a small meal in the communal kitchen, and even read a chapter ahead in his calculus textbook. He almost feels relieved when his alarm sets off to go to the lab, eager to get his work over with.

He’s determined to get this done quickly enough to still see you tonight. The thought of letting you down the one time you ask him to hang out is almost painful. He imagines the frown you’d wear next time he sits next to you in class. He can’t let that happen; he has to make sure he gets to you.

He throws on his lab coat and adjusts the goggles to fit onto his face. He sighs as he grabs containers of various chemical compounds from the cabinet, leaving them on the counter as he fetches the other materials he needs. With everything set out in front of him, he grabs the petri dish of cells and glances at the procedural note his professor left.

Yeonjun’s done this enough times to get into the swing of things, so he’s not too concerned with double checking his every move. His bigger priority is getting this done as fast as possible so that he can get to you. Lab work is never particularly fun or interesting, so he passes the time thinking about you.

The smell of the chemicals burns Yeonjun’s nose a little, and he wonders for a second if he’d been zoning out too much. He picks up the procedural note and glances over the measurements again, making sure he’s been adding the right amounts of everything. If he does something wrong and messes with the cell culture, he risks not being allowed back in the lab. He should probably slow down a bit, even if it means making you wait longer.

He’s more careful throughout the rest of the process, pushing back the worries that he might’ve messed something up. He continues to reassure himself that everything’s okay as he finishes up his work, placing the lid back on the petri dish and storing it away. He writes the date and time on a piece of tape that he sticks onto the lid, then finally lets his body relax as he steps back.

He cracks his knuckles to alleviate the stiffness that had been building there and rolls his shoulders back, groaning at the soreness of his muscles. All the fine motor movements from working in a lab does a number on his arms and fingers.

He hears a rattle, and he turns quickly to make sure he didn’t knock anything over in his haste. His eyes scan the room, but nothing looks amiss. He shakes the feeling and sheds himself of his lab gear, eager to head to you at the party already.

It’s been over an hour, and the thought of you waiting so long for Yeonjun’s arrival strikes guilt inside his chest. He opens his phone to find the path he needs to walk to get to the house the party’s being held in, eyes bugging out when he sees that it’s a twenty minute walk from the lab. Shit, by then you’ll have been waiting an hour and a half for him to show up!

He groans, trying to think if there’s a better way to get to you. The buses around campus don’t stop at the street he needs to get to, and it’s not like he has one of those electric bicycles or scooters that everyone seems to love. He wonders now if it might be a worthy investment. He pouts and throws his head back, totally drained from everything happening today. His eyes land on the tops of the academic buildings and the tall trees overhead. Maybe there is another way to get there after all.

No, he shouldn’t. That would be way too reckless. He’s already gone through the whole power and responsibility spiel, and he’s not in the mood to get himself in trouble for acting rashly. But if no one sees…

He turns his head and scans for people in each direction. No one’s around. No one would know, and he really needs to get to the party before he makes himself look like an asshole. He checks for anyone one last time, then aims his wrist towards the sky.

“Yeonjun! What’s up!”

Yeonjun startles and brings his arm back to his side hastily. He whips around to see who’s talking to him and lets out a breath when he sees his friend who had just exited the lab building. “Taehyun, hey man,” he says, ignoring the anxious pounding of his heart. That was way too close. Lesson learned.

“Didn’t catch you at the physics meet last week. Everything alright?” Taehyun asks. Yeonjun really hopes this conversation doesn’t take too long. The last thing he needs is another ten minutes piled on top of how late he already is.

“I’m good, I was just”—controlling a fire set by some idiot arsonist, then trapping said arsonist with his webs until the cops arrived—“uh, kind of sick.”

Taehyun hums and nods. “Well, we missed you bro, hope you’re feeling better. I’ll see you around!” Yeonjun waves and returns the smile his friend gives him, then walks as fast as he can to the location you sent him. He manages to get there in fifteen minutes instead of twenty, only at the expense of heavy breathing like he just finished a marathon.

When he gets to the entrance, there’s two men Yeonjun has never seen in his life guarding the door. He almost scoffs. What is this, some kind of nightclub?

“You got the money?” one of the guys ask.

“What?” Yeonjun scrunches his brows and leans his head forward a little, thinking he might have misheard him.

“No money, no entrance,” the other man says.

“Dude, come on!” Yeonjun whines.

“House rules. Stop wasting our time and get out of line.”

“No, no, I’ll”—Yeonjun sighs, reaching into the back pocket of his pants to fetch out his wallet. “How much?” he asks. The men tell him, and he bites back the complaints that almost push past his lips. Yeonjun slaps the bills into the guy’s open palm. They finally open the door for him, and Yeonjun steps inside.

He’s taken aback by how many people are cramped into this place. The house is pretty big, but there’s at least a hundred people mingling around, which makes space tight. He squeezes past the crowd with muttered apologies, but no one seems to pay him any mind. He scans every room for you, but it’s a little hard to do it efficiently when there’s so many faces to check. A part of him fears you might’ve left already.

He pulls out his phone, ready to text you and ask, before he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns at the action and smiles when he’s met with your pretty face. “Hey, you!” you exclaim. “I thought you bailed on me.” There’s no real bite to your words, but it still makes Yeonjun frown.

“I’m sorry. I had to do this lab thing, and”—

“It’s alright, don’t explain. You’re here now!” you say. “Did you have anything to drink?”

Yeonjun shakes his head. “I don’t drink much.”

“Me either,” you say. You look out the window, then grab onto Yeonjun’s hand. His brain short-circuits, and he has to stop his eyes from going all dumb and wide. “It’s kinda stuffy in here. Let’s go outside.”

Yeonjun puts up no fight as you lead him out the back door, walking out into the yard. There’s almost as many people out here as there are inside, but the lack of walls means there’s more space to move. It’s much more breathable.

He takes quick glances at your face, trying to decipher what you’re staring so hard at. Your gaze is fixed on a small group of people just sitting and laughing. All the guys have girls in their laps, and a few girls stand around them, sipping their drinks. They all look happy. And drunk.

“Did you want to join them?” Yeonjun asks. He doesn’t know any of those people, but he’ll go if that’s what you’d like. It’s not like there’s much else to do when you’re not drinking or dancing.

The LED lights that line the house reflect in your eyes, making them dazzle extra bright. Your eyes dart to the group one last time before you shake your head. “Nah. Let’s just sit down and talk.” Yeonjun gladly obliges.

You find an empty spot to sit at, looking up at Yeonjun after you situate yourself. He laughs a little, “You really like sitting on the grass, huh?”

You smile at him and pat the ground next to you. “Don’t act like you’re too good to connect with nature.”

“It’s more about getting grass stains on my pants,” Yeonjun says, but sits beside you anyways.

You turn your head to him, and something about seeing your face this close makes it hard for him to keep eye contact. It’s quiet for a few seconds before you speak up, “So how come you said yes to the party?”

Something about your question strikes fear inside Yeonjun. Did you find him out? Do you know he likes you? Maybe this is some kind of humiliation ritual you’ve set him up for.

“Cause you asked,” he answers, voice a little meek as he fidgets with his hands in his lap.

“And if it was someone else who asked?”

Yeonjun thinks for a second, but he can’t come to an answer. “I don’t know. Like who?”

You hum and look into the crowd of people. Your head turns back to him after a couple seconds. “Like Yerim,” you say.

Yeonjun laughs as if the scenario is ridiculous, mostly because it is. Yerim would never even give him the time of day. She’s notorious for being cold to anyone who she isn’t interested in. Somehow, that seems to attract a bunch of guys to her. Not Yeonjun, though.

“No chance I’d go,” he says.

“So what makes me different?” you ask.

A lot of things. You’re nice, and you’re smart, and you’re down to earth, and you’re a beacon of warmth. Everything makes you different.

“Cause we’re friends,” he says instead. He wants to punch himself after the words leave him. This was his chance to flirt with you, yet he couldn’t even muster up the courage to give you a single compliment.

You nod. “I’m just asking cause… well, I guess I’m just surprised you agreed to come.” Your eyes meet his, warm and kind. “Thank you for that, by the way.”

Yeonjun’s stomach does flips when you look at him like that. “You’re welcome.” It goes quiet for a moment, so he continues, “I think this was worth handing over the last of my cash for.”

You burst out laughing. “They made you pay?! Why didn’t you just say you’re here with me?”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” he says. He bites his tongue after the words leave him. Who is he to assume there will be a next time? He hopes you don’t call him out on it.

“We should just go somewhere else next time. There’s a lot of places downtown that I want to visit,” you suggest, bumping his shoulder with yours. Yeonjun almost explodes.

“We should do that then,” he agrees. He’s not sure what suddenly drew you to him as more than some kind of tutor, but he thanks the universe for bestowing him with all this luck.

“There’s that bakery that opened a couple months ago,” you mention.

Yeonjun lights up. “Oh my god, I’ve been wanting to go there too!”

You squeal in excitement and clasp your hands together. “Let’s do that next. Tell me you’re free on Sunday,” you say.

“I don’t know, things come up last-minute sometimes. I’ll let you know.” It’s hard to make plans when he’s basically living a double life. Then again, he did agree to going out with you tonight on a whim. He’s not very consistent with his rules. He pushes the thought back.

Your eyes land back on the group of people hanging out and laughing. Yeonjun frowns, and he wonders if he’s not entertaining you enough. He doesn’t want to keep you from having fun.

“Why do you keep looking at them?” he asks, curious and soft. He hopes he’s not prying.

“They’re just some friends,” you answer.

“Oh. Why don’t we go say hi, then?” he offers.

You pull your lips into a tight line. “I’d rather not.”

“That’s alright,” Yeonjun says. You give a small smile in appreciation.

“What about you?” you ask. He tilts his head, not knowing what you mean. You continue, “Who’s in your friend group?”

Yeonjun laughs awkwardly and shrugs. “I mostly hang out with the physics honor society,” he admits.

“That’s cool. You must have a good bond.”

“We do,” he says. “How’d you meet your friends?”

You smile at him, and something in your face tells Yeonjun that it’s a complicated story. You sigh dramatically and lean back a little, “I met them at parties. Does that surprise you?”

Yeonjun’s not sure if that’s a rhetorical question. “No. You’re friendly. I can see why people come to you,” he answers.

“Thanks,” you say, voice a little quieter.

“Are you friends with your roommate?” he asks.

“I don’t have one. I live in a single dorm.”

Lucky. If Yeonjun had the extra money to spare, he’d be dorming alone too. It would definitely make heading out as Spider-man easier; he’d just be able to change in his room and jump out his window. Assuming no one is around to see, that is.

“That must be nice,” he says.

You shrug. “It’s alright. What about you? You got a roommate?”

“Yeah. We’re…” Yeonjun struggles to find a word to describe his relationship with Soobin. They’re not exactly friends, but they’re peaceful with each other.

You laugh and finish the sentence for him, “Roommates and nothing more.” There’s a lilt to your voice when you say that, and you wiggle your eyebrows like that’s supposed to suggest something.

“Ignoring your insinuations, yeah, pretty much.”

“I’m just kidding,” you say. He’ll let you make jokes at his expense all you want, it doesn’t bother him. Especially not when it means he gets to see you all giggly and happy. He thinks that you look the prettiest like this. Yeonjun would stare at you smiling up at him forever if he could.

The sound of a guy calling your name pulls Yeonjun from his stupor. He blinks at the man standing before the two of you, then looks at you with scrunched brows as if to ask who is that?

His unspoken question is answered the next second. “Hey, Kai,” you say. When Yeonjun gets a better look, he realizes that this is one of the dudes in the group you kept looking over at.

“Who’s this guy?” Kai asks, jutting his chin toward him.

“I’m Yeonjun.” He goes to hold out his hand for Kai to shake, but quickly puts it back down upon realizing that might be weird.

“Oh, Yeonjun from calculus. I know you,” he says.

“I didn’t know you’re in that class too,” Yeonjun muses.

Kai laughs, “I’m not. Y/n just talks about you.”

Yeonjun nearly melts. You talk about him. This is the best day of his life.

“Anyway,” Kai continues, looking at you again. “I need a couple more people on my beer pong team. You guys down?”

Yeonjun turns to you to gauge your reaction. He can’t really tell what you're feeling, not even when you face him as you contemplate your answer. Yeonjun shrugs, as if to tell you that he’s down for whatever you want to do.

“I think I’m good,” you say.

“Ah, alright, you bummer,” Kai jokes, stepping back and sending you a bright smile. “Continue your convo with the calc lord, I insist.” He’s gone after that, jogging off to the rest of his friends, setting up the game.

“Calc lord?” Yeonjun repeats, amused.

Your laugh is accompanied by a roll of your eyes. “He means it nicely, I swear.”

“Well, depending on how well he does in this game, I might start calling him beer pong lord,” Yeonjun says. You push at his shoulder as your laughter continues.

Yeonjun already knew he likes you a lot, but as the night goes on, he finds out that you’re even better than he thought. Conversation unfolds easily with you, even if Yeonjun’s answers are dorky and awkward at times. He feels exactly how he thinks you look when you sit in the grass alone: content and peaceful.

He’s not sure how many minutes or hours have passed when you ask him to walk you back to your dorm. All he knows is that tonight could have stretched into infinity, and that would’ve been fine. He follows you into the building, then into your room. He’s not sure why. It just feels right.

“Thanks for bringing me back,” you say. Yeonjun smiles and nods. He leans against the wall and stares out the window. You live on the top floor of your building, so the view’s pretty different from Yeonjun’s second story view. This would be a fun room to swing out of.

“Do you need anything else?” Yeonjun asks. A smile slowly takes over your face, and you cross the room to stand in front of him. You blink up at him, and something about it feels flirty. If he wasn’t biting his tongue so hard, his thoughts would have slipped right past his lips: you look cute.

You break the short moment of silence with a giggle. “Just for you to promise me we’ll hang out again,” you say, voice barely over a whisper.

Yeonjun has to remind himself to breathe and be normal. “I promise,” he says. He even holds out his pinky to seal the deal. You curl your pinky around his, accepting the playful gesture.

“Did you want to stay?” you ask. You look out the window, then back at him. “I’m okay with sharing my bed.”

That definitely flusters Yeonjun. “Oh, no, I’m—I was gonna just walk back to my dorm or something. Or take a bus. I don’t know. Thank you, though.”

You laugh. Hopefully not at his sputtering and rambling, but Yeonjun has a feeling that might be why. “Alright, then. Good night, Yeonjun.”

Your soft voice has Yeonjun wanting to backpedal and say he’ll stay the night, but he swallows down the words. He smiles at you as he backs away toward your door. “Good night,” he says, standing in your doorway.

“Yeonjun,” you call, stopping him before he could leave. He turns, waiting for your words. He’s surprised to see that you look a little shy. “I’m really happy I asked you to come with me. Tonight was fun.”

Butterflies erupt in Yeonjun’s stomach, and he feels like he could float from how giddy he is. “I’m happy too,” he says.

He steps out into the hall, thoughts lingering on how overwhelmingly good his time with you was. His mind is clouded with rosy memories of his night with you, and he finds himself repressing the urge to twirl around and jump for joy. He’ll probably be skipping all the way home, imagining all the possibilities of what could come next between you.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

It’s Sunday, and Yeonjun knows exactly why you’re calling. He stares at his phone, then back at the man in front of him tangled up in webs. Yeonjun shoots another web over the guy’s mouth.

“Sorry, gotta take this,” he says. “Stay right here.” He slings himself onto a branch of a tall tree nearby, just to make sure no one can listen in as he accepts your call.

“Hey Yeonjun!” Your voice is so cheerful that it makes Yeonjun giggle. He even swings his feet in the air as he sits on the branch.

“Hi Y/n,” he greets, hoping his voice isn’t too muffled through the mask of his suit.

“Did those last-minute plans end up showing, or are you down to try out that bakery?” you ask. Yeonjun frowns, hating to let you down when you sound so happy.

“I’m really busy today, I’m sorry,” he says, shoulders sagging from how awful he feels. He’s got a whole lab procedure to write once he’s done sorting out the crime scenes of today.

“No worries, maybe we can go after class sometime.”

He frowns. “I wish I could, but I got another class right after ours. Let me check my schedule, I might be able to”—

“Are those sirens?” you interrupt, and Yeonjun looks out to the street. He’s grown so accustomed to the sound of those things that it didn’t even register. “Where are you?” you ask.

“I’m… uh,” Yeonjun stammers, focusing on the cops getting out of the car and making their way towards the criminal.

He tunes into the cops’ conversation. “Looks like Spider-shit’s been here already,” one of them comments in a gruff voice.

The other cop huffs out a laugh. “He’s always meddling in with petty crimes. What do you think this guy did?”

“Jaywalking?” The cops chuckle.

“Not like he can explain with that over his mouth.” He points to the web Yeonjun placed on the man a minute ago.

Yeonjun scowls. He’s not sure why the cops hold so much scorn for him, but if they’d like to know, then the petty crime that Spider-shit helped stop was an armed robbery. If these guys were a little better at their jobs, he wouldn’t have to meddle in all the time.

“Hello?” you ask, and Yeonjun reels his attention back to his conversation with you.

“Sorry,” he says. “I’m just coming back from the store. Crazy stuff going on today.”

“Oh. Well, stay safe,” you say.

“Thanks, I will.” He sees the cops looking around, probably trying to spot him, so he flattens his back against the tree and tries to talk a little quieter. “I’ll see you in class, I gotta go.”

“See you!”

Yeonjun sighs once the call ends. His suit doesn’t even have pockets, he just carried his phone with him today in case you contacted him. Stupid? Mildly. Inconvenient? Very. He had one less hand to work with when dealing with today’s crime culprits. To hear your voice, though? Worth it. He smiles like an idiot as he swings over to the next nearest building, making his way back to his dorm.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Yeonjun’s professor accompanies him to the lab today, overseeing the procedures for the day. The feeling of his professor watching over his shoulder is more nerve-wracking than any day spent fighting crime on the streets. He’s usually careful with his work in the lab, but he’s extra, extra careful on these days.

He pauses when he retrieves the petri dish of cells. He briefly considers the possibility that he’s crazy and just seeing things, but Yeonjun’s pretty sure that the clump of cells just moved. Like, uncanny movement. He holds his breath.

He stares at the clump, trying to make sense of what he’s seeing. It doesn’t jerk around anymore, so maybe it was just his imagination. Fear still creeps up his neck at the idea of the research going wrong. He remembers feeling like he messed up at some point last time he was here, and the realization is making his skin grow clammy.

“What is it?” his professor asks, taking a step closer to Yeonjun.

“Nothing, I was just thinking,” he quickly responds, keeping his voice calm and steady. He brings the petri dish to the table and does his best to forget what he saw earlier. Yeonjun fears how his professor would react if he told him something unprecedented might be occurring. It happened so quickly that he can’t even tell if his mind was just playing tricks on him. Maybe he’s just extra nervous today.

He wipes the sweat off his palms onto his lab coat, bringing the necessary materials to the table to continue the research. His professor reads off the instructions slowly, and Yeonjun pretends he doesn’t feel his stomach twisting as he works with the cells.

He tries to calm down as he walks back to his dorm, but there’s a permanent chill shooting down his spine. There’s no way the clump should have moved like that—it shouldn’t show any observable motion at all, not without some kind of electrical stimulation.

Maybe he just jerked the dish too harshly. He was pretty nervous, so it would make sense. He must have been shaking and just didn’t realize. That would explain it. That would put Yeonjun at ease.

He can try to convince himself that everything’s fine, but he can’t stop the anxious thrum of his heart. Apparently the fear reads on his face, too, because Soobin’s quick to notice it when Yeonjun enters the dorm.

“Are you okay?” Soobin asks. Yeonjun’s not sure what must have given himself away. He pays more attention to breathing slowly and talking casually.

“I’m good,” he answers. He doesn’t expect Soobin to push the subject considering how quiet he always is, but Soobin’s gaze isn’t leaving Yeonjun. He must be really concerned.

“Did something happen?” Soobin asks. Yeonjun sinks into his desk chair, covering his face with his hands as he groans. “Sorry,” his roommate apologizes, turning away from Yeonjun to look at his laptop instead.

“No, you’re good, it’s just…” Yeonjun sighs. He might as well get this off his chest. “Some lab thing.”

Soobin nods, not asking any further. Now that Yeonjun’s started though, he doesn’t feel like stopping.

“I think I might’ve fucked up,” Yeonjun admits.

“How?” Soobin’s playing some video game on his laptop as he talks, which actually puts Yeonjun at ease. It feels less pressing, less like an interrogation or a confession and more like a normal conversation.

“The cells I’m working with are being weird. I don’t know. I don’t even know if I saw it right. I just feel crazy now.” Yeonjun rubs his palms against his eyes in frustration and exhaustion, soothing the headache he’s got building up.

Soobin hums. The little shooting sounds and animated voices coming from Soobin’s game fill the room until Soobin speaks again, “Did anyone else see?”

“No. My professor was there, but he didn’t notice.”

Soobin shrugs. “You’re probably fine then.”

Honestly, Soobin’s nonchalance to the situation eases Yeonjun’s worries a lot. He knows he can get in his head sometimes, especially when it comes to doing everything right, so to hear he’ll be fine lifts a weight from his shoulders.

“Yeah, probably,” he agrees. He basks in comfortable silence for a minute now that his heart isn’t beating so hard.

“By the way, have you bought more laundry detergent yet?” Soobin asks.

Ah, shit. “Tomorrow, I promise.”

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Being Spider-man is tasking, but it’s usually pretty cool. Not everyone gets to zip around the city and restore peace in people’s neighborhoods. Not everyone, however, has to worry about getting stabbed by a criminal in the middle of the night.

Yeonjun always stays until the cops arrive. It almost feels essential, just to make sure justice gets served. This time, he can’t.

He has to stop himself from groaning too loud when he feels the knife pull out from his side. The man in front of Yeonjun is already stuck to the side of a building, held there with a thick layer of web, so there has to be someone else. He turns around to look at the perpetrator, but the world moves a lot slower than normal.

Yeonjun blinks hard, focusing on breathing and staying conscious. The coward who stabbed him is wearing a ski mask, and he’s running away quickly. Yeonjun can’t let him leave. He moves forward and ignores the searing pain that sets his body alight. He straightens out his shaky arm and aims his wrist at the man, but the web that shoots out is just as weak as Yeonjun is.

Frustrated, Yeonjun growls and forces himself to move faster. It burns, he’s never felt any kind of pain like this, but he can’t let this man walk free. He can’t let this man stab another innocent person. Even with his staggered pace, limping as he tries his best to catch up to the man, he advances quickly.

He breathes hard and holds the air in his lungs as he aims again at the man, brows furrowed with angry determination beneath his mask. He lets out a loud grunt as he shoots his web out, and finally, it lands. The criminal falls as the web captures his ankle, keeping his leg stuck to the ground.

Yeonjun huffs as he traverses the rest of the way toward the man, nothing but fury in his veins as he shoots another web out. This one’s bigger, covering the man’s back and securing him to the pavement. He picks up his head and looks at Yeonjun with fear in his eyes, but he doesn’t care. He can’t. All he feels is pain and anger and pain and pain and so much fucking pain.

Yeonjun’s not the vengeful type, but getting stabbed really tests a person’s limits. He shoots more webs over the guy, making sure he won’t be able to move a muscle until the cops arrive.

Yeonjun doesn’t waste his breath making snide comments, though he does have a few choice words for him. He takes off the man’s ski mask and resists the urge to deck his face. He’s got fear etched into his expression, but Yeonjun finds it hard to feel sorry for him. The man starts begging for his life, and Yeonjun scoffs. Of course he’s not going to kill this man—no matter what, he doesn’t end people’s lives. A city’s hero shouldn’t get to decide who lives and dies.

Yeonjun stumbles away after finding a passerby to call the police. Now that the adrenaline’s gone, Yeonjun feels less mad and more scared. He’s really bleeding now; his hand comes up soaked when it presses against the wound. What the hell does he do? He can’t die like this.

He can’t go to the hospital with a stab wound. There’s no way for him to make up some alibi that wouldn’t just trace Spider-man’s identity back to him. He hisses through gritted teeth as he frantically scans his surroundings, looking for somewhere to go. The only thing that’s coming to mind is you, and it’s aggravating. He could be dying right now, and all his useless mind can do is think of you. Maybe it’s all the blood loss, and he’s just getting delirious, or maybe it’s a sign. It’s not like he has many good options right now.

There’s not enough time to think about it. He zips through the city and back onto campus as fast as he can, ignoring the splitting pain in his side that shoots up his body every time he moves. It’s getting harder to breathe, suddenly feeling suffocated by his mask, but he has to hold on. He’s not far away now.

He remembers the view from your window. He remembers exactly which room to shoot himself up to. He adheres himself to the wall outside your room and pulls his mask off, leaning his forehead onto the cold glass of your window with a sigh of relief. He catches his breath and knocks with a shaky fist. He’s really sorry for having to wake you up at this hour, but he has a feeling you’ll understand.

He doesn’t wait long. You're trudging out of bed and making your way toward the window, tired eyes blinking slowly. You look really cute. Everything is spinning around him, but he focuses on you. You’re still groggy and out of it until you meet Yeonjun’s eyes through the glass. As soon as you see him, it’s like you wake up immediately.

He watches your jaw drop, your frantic hands racing to open your window. His vision is nearly blacking out, and he tries to blink away the dizzy feeling in his head the best he can.

“Yeonjun?!” you squeak as he drags himself through your window and into your room. He can’t even hold himself up anymore, weak body collapsing to the floor. He groans and leans against the wall, clutching his side. He ignores the sickening feeling of blood dampening his hand, sticky and warm against his palm and between his digits.

You pick him up by the underarms, grunting as you heave him toward your bed. He notices how shaky your arms are, and he tries his best to pick up his own weight, even if it hurts like hell. He’s burdening you enough as is coming here so late.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to go to,” he says, catching his breath as you guide him to lay on your bed. He’s half-aware of how bloody and dirty he is, but you seem fully ready to let him stain your sheets. Concern and confusion fill your wide eyes, and Yeonjun can hear every word that you don’t say.

Luckily, you save the unnecessary questions for later. “What do I do?” you ask. Your hands tremble as they peel the shirt of his suit up, just enough to expose his midriff and the nasty damage to his side. You gasp upon seeing how bad it is, hardly able to stomach it, opting to look into his eyes instead.

He wants to respond to you, if not to answer your question then just to comfort you, but breathing is enough of a chore on its own right now; talking seems almost impossible. Watching you panic about this is shattering him. He makes an effort to move his arm out toward you, just to hold your hand and reassure you, but he doesn’t have enough strength.

You lift from the bed and open up a bottle of water, pouring some of the cool liquid over his head. It’s relieving against his burning skin and keeps him from losing consciousness. It also makes him realize how dehydrated he is.

“Please sit up,” you beg, placing a hand underneath his head to lift it a bit. He comes up just enough to drink some of the water you feed to him, swallowing down the rest of the bottle. He collapses back against your pillow once he’s finished, feeling much better just from that.

You come back with another bottle of water and pour small bits at a time over the gash in his side. He hisses and tenses up each time it hits his skin, but he knows you have to do this. He doesn’t want to make it harder by thrashing around and complaining, so he bites his tongue and keeps his body stiff.

The sheets soak beneath him as you continue emptying the water bottle over the wound. He should help you clean up after this; he doesn’t want you dealing with his mess all alone. A few minutes pass before you discard the plastic bottle and grab a t-shirt from your dresser.

You press the bunched up cloth against his injured skin gently, and he holds back any grunts that threaten to slip out. It’s like you can sense his pain despite his efforts to hide it, because you keep murmuring apologies to him.

“I’m okay, don’t be sorry,” he reassures. He doesn’t think you believe him, judging by the way lips stay tugged into a frown.

A quietness falls over the room. You pull your t-shirt away from his body and observe the wound, and your fingertips on his torso send electricity throughout his body. It doesn’t hurt so much now.

“You’re not bleeding anymore,” you point out.

He hums. “That’s good.” Your hand grazes the skin just outside the gash. There’s a soothing effect in the way your fingers glide against him, pressure so light that it’s barely there.

“You need stitches,” you say quietly, like you hate to break the news to him.

Yeonjun doesn’t mind. “You got a needle?” he asks. You fidget with the fabric of Yeonjun’s suit as you sigh and look away.

“I do,” you say. You don’t sound too confident, though. He doesn’t know what to do to make you feel better.

You grab his hand like it’s second nature to do so, and the action would be romantic if only you didn’t have that nervous look on your face. He can practically feel your heart pounding, and he’s dying to let you know that everything’s okay.

“I trust you,” he breathes out. He makes sure he’s looking you in the eye so you can see how much he means it. He’s risking everything by trusting you, but he’s not scared. He feels safe even with his life in your hands, his secret identity in your knowledge. If there was something more sacred and dangerous to give up than that, he’s sure he’d be okay lending that to you too.

It feels much more real when you have your needle and thread in hand. Yeonjun can’t contain his noises anymore, whimpering in pain when he feels the sharp tip pierce his skin.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you say quickly and desperately. “I’ll do it fast.”

He hisses as he feels the thread start to tug his wound shut. He throws an arm over his eyes, as if not watching you treat him will stop the piercing feeling. All his muscles are tensed up no matter how much he tries to relax, but he keeps his breathing steady and lets you do your work.

It’s not too long before you’re tying off the final knot and discarding your needle onto your nightstand. You run your thumb over the stitch, gentle and slow. Yeonjun takes his arm off his face and fixes his gaze on you, watching you scrutinize your work with scrunched brows.

“It feels fine. You did perfect,” he says, wanting to keep you from judging yourself too harshly. He wants to thank you, but the words feel so awkward building up in his throat.

“I don’t have a big enough bandage to put over this,” you say, still fixated on his injury. Yeonjun tries to sit up, but your hand on his shoulder eases him back down. “Don’t move too much.”

“Y/n…” he starts, but you give him a pointed look, and he decides to shut up and listen. He relaxes against your mattress.

“I wish I had some clothes to change you into,” you mutter after he pulls the shirt of his suit back down. The spandex isn’t super comfortable against his fresh stitches, but it’s easy to ignore in comparison to the searing pain of the open wound. He’ll have to throw out this suit; it’s bloodied beyond repair, and he has plenty of back-ups anyway.

“It’s alright,” Yeonjun says. You shuffle on the mattress until you’re laying down beside him. “Aren’t the sheets wet?” he asks, surprised at how unfazed you seem.

You let out a small laugh, and that frown finally leaves your face. “I don’t mind. I wanted to lay down.”

“I’ll buy you new sheets,” Yeonjun promises. “And a new needle. And I’ll explain everything to you, I swear. Please don’t”—

“Yeonjun,” you cut off. He shuts his mouth. “That stuff doesn’t matter. Are you okay now?”

He nods. “I’m okay.”

“That’s all I care about.”

The room falls into a comfortable silence. Yeonjun stares at the ceiling and wonders how much this is going to change things between you. He has some hope that this will make you two even closer, but a small part of him fears that you won’t want to associate with him anymore. He wouldn’t blame you; it’s not like being close to Spider-man isn’t a riskless situation. He doesn’t regret coming to you tonight, though.

He feels your eyes on him a moment later, and he can only bring himself to look at you for a second before returning his gaze to your ceiling. You must find that funny, because he hears you chuckling beside him.

“You know, I wasn’t expecting this when you said you’d hang out with me again.” There’s a softness in your voice that makes Yeonjun feel lightheaded. Not the losing-too-much-blood kind of lightheaded, but the oh-god-I-really-like-her kind—this one’s much more preferable and much more welcome than the former.

“I’ll have to make it up to you,” he says.

“How do you plan on doing that?”

He turns his head to face you, and something feels awfully domestic about getting to lay this close to you in your bed. It’s hard to breathe when you’re smiling at him so eagerly, when there’s a glint in your eyes that tells Yeonjun you’re having fun. There’s an itch all the way down to his bones that begs him to push forward and kiss you already, but he resists.

“I’ll find a way,” he whispers.

The room gets quiet again, and Yeonjun supposes he should leave. It’s not like he can wait for the sun to rise and walk out of your room in his bloodied Spidey-suit glory. He’s not sure what time it is right now, but he knows that if he doesn’t leave soon and get some sleep, he’ll be passing out in his classes.

“Thanks for fixing me up,” he says, pushing himself off your bed and stretching his limbs. He feels beyond sore, wincing at the pain that shoots through his body. You sit up immediately, scrambling to stop him.

“You’re leaving? Are you crazy? Stay here!” you insist, trying to drag him back to the bed. He turns his head to you and smiles, and something about the silent plea in your eyes lights up his heart. He keeps his feet on the ground and resists your efforts, even though he wants nothing more than to spend the night with you. It’s just not smart and not worth the risk.

“I can’t,” he says. You pout and stand before him, blinking up at him so prettily that he almost changes his mind. “It’s dangerous.”

“I know. I just wanted to keep you.” That makes Yeonjun giggle.

“Sorry. Maybe next time.”

You swat his chest. “Don’t let there be a next time. You almost scared me to death.”

“I’ll make sure to tell the next knife-bearer you said that,” Yeonjun jokes. It gets the laugh that he was hoping for out of you.

“Well…” you start, eyes darting between his own. He barely has time to register it when you press a kiss against his lips, your movement so hesitant and shy. It’s soft. It’s sweet. It’s over before he knows it. He blinks at you dumbly—it’s all he can do to not pass out like a dork in front of you. Your smile is just as soft and sweet as your kiss was. “Just stay out of trouble,” you finish, patting his chest gently.

“I’ll try.”

“I guess I’ll see you in class, then,” you say.

“Yeah,” he agrees. He should go now. He should make use of his feet and back away, but he stays planted in his spot. You sway girlishly in front of him, hands clasped behind your back.

“Good night,” you whisper. Yeonjun can’t help it—he pulls your face in so he can feel your lips on his again, more properly this time. They’re pillowy and dreamy, and Yeonjun could just melt into you. He doesn’t linger longer than he has to, backing up just enough to see your face. You mirror the glee that he feels in his own expression.

“Good night,” he echoes. He backs away and grabs his mask, slipping it back on. He opens your window back up and slings himself to the nearest tree. Each time Yeonjun looks over his shoulder, he sees you leaning at your window smiling right back at him. His heart does a little flip. On second thought, maybe getting stabbed is kind of cool.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Despite how well last night went, Yeonjun wakes up with a heavy weight on his shoulders. Every ounce of confidence that his interaction with you last night might have given him is completely gone the moment he remembers it, and sheds away at itself further when he notices you skipped class. A dreadful thought creeps up his spine: are you avoiding him?

Maybe you woke up regretting it all. Maybe you realized how ridiculous and stupid getting involved with Spider-man is, and you’re just protecting yourself before you can be burdened further. The classroom feels hot and suffocating, and fresh air sounds really nice right now, but Yeonjun stays put in his seat. He doesn’t want to make a scene and start freaking everyone out. To the best of his ability, he pushes his fears down and saves his panic for later—preferably for after he talks to you and gets some answers.

He doesn’t even open his notebook in his last class of the day. He shows up just for attendance purposes, then zones out staring at his desk for the rest of the hour. Time passes far too slowly; Yeonjun’s itching for the lecture to end so he can talk to you already. He’s practically running out of class as soon as it’s dismissed, but finds himself slowing down the moment he’s outside the building.

He’s pretty sure he knows where to find you. The bigger issue is figuring out what the hell he’s going to say. Is there any way to start this conversation without being awkward? Hey, thanks for saving my life last night. Also I am indeed that hero or whatever taking care of criminals in the city, hope you don’t mind! He feels so lame.

It’s wishful thinking to hope that you won’t care about what happened last night—well, except for the kissing part, but that’s probably not as important right now. He’ll push aside that conversation until the more important one happens.

He wants to run away the moment he sees your figure in the distance, sitting exactly where he thought you’d be. His tongue suddenly feels like lead, too heavy and useless to try talking to you. He gathers his breath and walks across the field, not letting himself back out now. You deserve to be given a little peace of mind. He’s sure today must have been confusing for you, that clarity hit you like a train this morning the same way it did to him.

You look over your shoulder when he reaches you, staring up at him and squinting your eyes from the sun. “How’d I know you’d come find me?” you ask, half-amused.

Yeonjun gives you a short laugh, unsure of himself as he sits on the grass beside you. It feels a little like he’s invading your space. He’s seen you sitting alone on this field as if it was all yours so many times.

“I thought I should thank you again,” he says, a little shy. He feels like he owes you a lot for last night. The whole city probably owes you a lot for saving him, honestly.

You look at him with a small smile, leaning your head on your bent knees. “Mhm. Shouldn’t I be thanking you, Spider-man?” There’s a teasing quality to your voice, and it makes Yeonjun laugh nervously. He should probably address that.

“I really hope you won’t tell anybody.”

“I won’t. I’m still finding it hard to believe anyway,” you say. Your sentences are all laced with a tiredness and exhaustion that Yeonjun can’t help but to feel at fault for. “It’s just weird to know it now.”

Yeonjun hums. He can sympathize with you on that—it must be really bewildering to know your classmate is the one swinging around town shooting webs at criminals. He just hopes you can forgive him for dragging you into this.

“Spider-man’s a little less cool now, huh?” he jokes, keeping his voice quiet even though no one’s around.

Your smile is full and genuine, and Yeonjun’s heart skips a beat. “I always thought he was a little lame,” you answer. Yeonjun’s ego bruises at that. You continue, “But I think he’s kind of interesting now.”

He can only hope that you don’t see the blush that takes over his face. He looks away to hide it, but he feels your gaze on him. “I don’t know if I’m that interesting,” he says, acting all humble. It’s clearly bait, and he hopes you’ll catch it.

“I can be the judge of that. Let me get to know you more,” you offer. Yeonjun bites his cheek to stop himself from grinning at this massive win.

“Well, we still have that bakery to go to,” Yeonjun mentions, and judging by the way your eyes gain a new sparkle, you seem to like the idea.

“You don’t have any more classes today, do you?” You already look ready to go.

Yeonjun doesn’t bother hiding his excitement anymore, letting his smile take over his face. “I don’t.” You’re standing up the next second, and Yeonjun’s quick to follow.

The bakery is a cute, cozy little place near some other restaurants downtown. There’s no seating inside due to the lack of space, but that’s made up for by the giant row of sweet selections to choose from. Yeonjun’s stomach rumbles in anticipation as his eyes jump around to look at each confection.

After buying your treats, you lead Yeonjun to a nearby bench. You both open your pastry boxes and bite down on the baked goods eagerly. You hum in satisfaction, nodding at the taste. “Wow, we should go here again,” you say, going in for another bite.

Yeonjun chose a sweet cheese bread, which he completely devours within a couple minutes. You don’t eat as fast as him, but he doesn’t mind waiting for you. He makes conversation in the meantime: “How come you skipped class today?”

You laugh a little around your mouthful of food, swallowing before you answer, “I barely slept. There was no way I could’ve focused if I went.”

Yeonjun hums in understanding. “I barely slept too,” he says.

“But you still went,” you add. “I guess you’re better than me.”

Oh god, he hopes you didn’t take it that way. “Not at all!” he rushes to say.

You smile and pat his shoulder. “I know. You’re just a star student, that’s all.”

Is that a compliment? Yeonjun blushes anyway. “I like to do well,” he says.

“I mean, considering everything you’re balancing, yeah, you are doing pretty well.”

Yeonjun laughs awkwardly in response, barely able to take your praise. He’s pretty sure you’re alluding to what you found out about him yesterday. “Thanks,” he mutters, all humble.

“Do you wanna talk about last night?” you ask, finishing your last bite.

“Sure,” Yeonjun answers, feeling a smidge of nervousness returning to him. It’s quiet for a few seconds. “Did you have any questions?” he asks. He feels more bashful than anything else, but it’s better than coming off as braggadocious.

You hum in thought, pouting your lips while you conjure up some ideas. “Was that your first kiss?”

He’s completely taken aback by your question—and a little embarrassed, quite frankly—and he scrambles to spit out a response. You’re stifling your laughter before he can even get his defense out. “No! I had my first kiss in, like, high school!”

“I’m just teasing,” you admit. “You’re a good kisser.” The compliment goes to Yeonjun’s head, playing in a loop while he floats on cloud nine. You liked kissing him. He should do it again and again, just to keep you happy. And for more selfish reasons, too.

Your voice breaks through his thoughts when you speak again, “Do you feel better today? Are you healing alright?” The joking tone leaves your voice, replaced with genuinity and care.

“I feel fine,” he answers. He pulls up his shirt to show you the wound, all stitched up and starting to heal over.

You wince. “Good thing I finished my food already. That killed my appetite.” Yeonjun laughs at your grimace and releases his shirt, falling back into place. “You should really put a bandage over that,” you suggest.

“I don’t have any.”

You shake your head in disbelief, though your amusement reads on your face. “You should be more prepared.”

Your concern is cute to Yeonjun. “I know,” he says.

“So who stabbed you?” you ask.

He shrugs. “No clue. He’s probably in a cell now.”

“Did it hurt?” you ask, though the answer is obvious.

“Like hell,” he says.

“How’d it even happen?” Honestly, Yeonjun’s not too sure about that either. He can usually sense imminent danger before it comes, but maybe he was too focused on the crimes he’d already been dealing with.

“He came up behind me while I was handling another criminal,” he answers.

You hum, getting off the bench and tossing your trash in a bin nearby. You start walking off then, and Yeonjun follows mindlessly. “Must be tough being Spider-man,” you say.

“Careful how loud you say that.” Yeonjun tenses as someone walks past the two of you, praying they were out of earshot when you said that. He sighs in relief when he sees the person had headphones in.

“Right, sorry. There’s just so much I wanna know now.” You turn a corner, taking a path leading back to campus.

Your curiosity excites Yeonjun, and he’s ready to answer whatever question you come up with. Some of his stories have serious entertainment value to them.

“Ask me, then,” he invites. You twist your head to smile up at him for a second.

“How’d you get like this? Were you just born this way?”

Yeonjun laughs at the idea. He swings his head around to make sure no one’s around when he answers, “No, a radioactive spider bit me.”

“When did that happen?” you ask. Yeonjun reminisces the first few weeks after the bite, thinking back to those initial feelings of fear and dread when he realized something had happened to him.

“In high school,” he says. It was super bewildering back then to change so drastically, yet be forced to act so normal. It’s much easier now—he’s had years to adjust—but he was a teenager when it first happened. That’s a lot for a kid to take on. He had to act like he was the same Choi Yeonjun his classmates had grown up with, and not some mutated superhuman dealing with the stresses of his new identity. Of course, he did that whole Spider-man thing to himself, but it was the right thing to do. He doesn’t regret it.

“Does anyone else know?”

“My uncle did, but he’s gone, so now it’s just you.” He looks at you, lips twitching upward.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you apologize, voice growing soft. He realizes that you’re in front of your dorm building now, and he supposes this is where he should leave. His eyes dart between yours, like he’s waiting for you to tell him to go. To ask him to stay.

“Are you doing anything today?” he asks. Maybe he sounds desperate. He doesn’t really care.

“Catching up on some work,” you say.

“I’ll give you my calculus notes.”

You smile. “That would be nice.”

Yeonjun didn’t even take notes in calculus today. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.

“Can I stay?” He’s teeming with hope and bravery today. You open the door to your building and signal him inside, and he has to hold back the victorious giggle that almost escapes him as he trails behind you.

The rest of the day passes in a blur of questions and answers. Yeonjun’s never talked so openly about being Spider-man before, and a part of it feels healing. You study hard while he rambles about stories of the little things he’s done throughout the years. Some are funny and make you cackle, and some draw your attention away from your textbook so you can look at him in shock. It’s impossible for Yeonjun to wipe the grin off his face—not when he bids you good night, not when he walks back to his dorm, not even when lays in bed to sleep. His heart never lets up on that jittery rush it has for you.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

A quintessential part of the college experience, Yeonjun’s come to find out, is trying out all the different ramen brands to see which one is the best. He’s a fan of whichever one he’s chowing down on right now, and a 5-pack of this barely puts a dent in his bank account. Seems like a winner.

He glances over at his dorm’s door when it opens, curious to see that Soobin brought someone over. Yeonjun isn’t bothered by that, though; if this guy is anything like Soobin, he’s not worried about getting annoyed.

“You can remember to buy ramen but not detergent?” Soobin asks, chuckling. Yeonjun chooses to read that as a joke instead of a passive aggressive comment.

“Ugh, dude, I keep forgetting, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. Yeonjun points at Soobin’s friend and continues, “This your friend?”

“Yeah, I’m Beomgyu,” the friend introduces. Something about him looks a little familiar.

“Nice to meet you,” Yeonjun greets with a nod.

Soobin grabs some clothes from his closet then turns to the door. “I’m gonna go change and then we can head out,” he says to Beomgyu, then heads off to the bathroom.

When the door shuts, Yeonjun returns his attention to his ramen and ignores Beomgyu’s presence as best as he can. That doesn’t last too long, though, cause soon enough, Beomgyu’s breaking the silence: “Are you still hanging out with Y/n?”

Yeonjun turns in his seat to face Beomgyu. He’s not sure how Beomgyu would know that, but Yeonjun entertains the question nevertheless. “Yeah. You know her?” he asks.

“She’s my friend,” he says. “Kind of.”

Yeonjun already feels something weird in the air. He’s waiting for the turn that this conversation is bound to take. He finally pieces together why this guy looks so familiar; he’s one of the boys at the party in the group that you kept looking over at. Now Yeonjun’s really curious.

“Why do you ask?” The question comes out a little hesitantly.

“I’m telling you this man-to-man, I think you might be getting played,” Beomgyu says.

Yeonjun’s immediate reaction is only confusion. How would you be playing him? You’ve been nothing but sincere with your feelings—or, that’s what it seemed like, at least. Now Yeonjun’s doubting himself. A part of him doesn’t believe it and doesn’t want to indulge in this conversation any further, but he’d start spiraling whether or not Beomgyu explains himself now. Worry swirls in Yeonjun’s stomach.

“Why?” he asks despite himself.

“This is just what I’ve heard, but apparently she had a thing with Kai, and he started talking to another girl, so she wanted to get back at him. I don’t know, though.”

Kai. That boy who came up to you at the party. Yeonjun remembers him.

He doesn’t want to show how much those words affect him, but shit. Hearing that hurts. His body feels weightless, like he’d be falling over if he wasn’t sitting at his desk. He nods as he exhales slowly, keeping his heart from going haywire.

“Huh,” is all he says. Soobin comes back the next second, and Beomgyu heads out with him after that, and the world keeps spinning on, but Yeonjun feels trapped in that moment. He waits to wake up in a sweat, hoping this is all some nightmare that’s going to end, but the wake never comes. He’s forced to deal with his whirling thoughts instead.

None of this can be true. It wouldn’t make sense. You kissed Yeonjun. You said you were interested in him. If this was all a lie, how will Yeonjun ever trust anyone again? When he came to you bleeding out, you saved his life. When you found out his secret identity, you kept it safe. Yeonjun miscalculated something that night—there is something more sacred and dangerous to trust you with than those things: his heart.

He doesn’t even want to finish his ramen anymore. His fingers brush against the wound that’s healing pretty well thanks to you, and a thought crosses his mind. The night that you kissed him was the night you found out he was Spider-man. An especially sickening question starts to haunt him. Did you only start liking him because of that?

Yeonjun feels played. He’s always known that he was a fool, so he doesn’t know why he’s so surprised, but really? Beer pong lord?

Five minutes is hardly enough to process the information Beomgyu dumped onto Yeonjun, but that’s all he gets, because now his alarm is going off and telling him to go over to the lab. He drops his head to his desk with a groan. It’s like an anchor’s been tied to his heart, sinking further and further until it makes him his stomach churn.

The fresh air feels good in Yeonjun’s lungs as he walks over to the lab. A permanent pout is etched onto his lips, unable to stop thinking about you. Good things. Bad things. Everything. Each memory hurts now.

He probably looks like some depressed college kid, walking around with his hood up and head down. He should be less pathetic, pick himself up and get himself together. It’s not like you two were really anything anyway. A kiss doesn't always mean something to everyone. Maybe it’s his fault for assuming that for you, it did.

It’s not just that, though. Yeah, kissing you made Yeonjun feel alive in a way that only swinging through the city could compare to, but there’s so much more to you than that. It’s the way you talked to him, the way you cared for him, the way you looked at him. How the hell do you fake that kind of connection? Hurt splits him at the seams like he’s being torn in two, but he keeps walking like nothing’s wrong.

“Yeonjun!” He recognizes that voice immediately. He pulls his eyes off the sidewalk and catches sight of you walking up to him. He almost forgot that he walks past your little field on the way to his lab.

It feels like he’s the one keeping a secret, palms clamming up as you stand in front of him. He stops in his tracks to allow you the conversation. “Hey,” he says.

“What are you up to?” you ask. He fidgets with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. Should he just act normal? Should he let you get away with using him? When he thinks about it like that, it puts a sour taste in his mouth.

“I’m headed to the lab. Got some stuff to do, and it’s time sensitive, so…” he trails off awkwardly, looking off into the distance instead of at you.

“Oh, okay,” you say, sounding a little dejected. Yeonjun shouldn’t be feeling bad for you right now, but he can’t help it. It makes his chest clench to hear the joy leave your voice. “Maybe we can hang out after? Just to study or something,” you offer.

Yeonjun sighs, “Maybe.”

You’re quiet for a second as you assess him. “Are you okay?” Concern fills your voice, and when he brings his vision back to you, he can see it in your eyes too.

“I’ll talk to you about it later,” he says.

You frown, taking in his flat expression. You must gain some insight from that, because then you’re asking, “Did I do something?”

He wants to hold his head, feeling defeated and frustrated and sad and a million other different things. He’s not sure how to label it. He’s never felt emotions this complex before, probably because he’s never liked anyone this much before.

“Oh god, did I?” you repeat, more fear in your voice at Yeonjun’s lack of a response. It strikes him and deflates his will to be dismissive about it, not wanting you to sit here worrying for the rest of the day. Curse his soft heart.

“Just come with me,” Yeonjun says, continuing on the path to his lab building. You follow beside him, taking long strides to match his quick pace. He notices you struggling to keep up, so he slows down, even though it might make him a few minutes late.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. He can feel you looking at him, but he keeps his eyes ahead.

“You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for,” he mumbles.

“Tell me then,” you plead. The thought of having to talk about this with you makes him feel sick. He doesn’t know if he can even choke up the words without getting nauseous.

“Let me clock into my lab first.” The rest of the walk is silent; you keep quiet even as you enter the room with him, watching him take off his sweatshirt and put on his lab coat. You’re quiet even as he goes through the study procedure, not even lingering near him to see what he’s doing. He feels a little cruel for it, wondering if he’s just torturing you by forcing you to stand silently and worry about what he must be upset at you for.

He steals a glance at you. You’re leaning against the wall by the door, so many steps away, keeping so much distance. He bites his lip and looks away, figuring it’s time to start the conversation.

“I want to talk to you, but I don’t want you to lie to me,” Yeonjun says, breaking the long stretch of silence. He walks toward you, stopping before he gets too close.

“I won’t. I’m not gonna hide anything from you.” It’s funny you say that.

“Do you like Kai?” His question catches you off guard, your frown leaving your face.

“No,” you answer.

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not.”

“Okay. So why did Beomgyu tell me you used me to get back at him?”

He watches you stiffen at the question. “How do you know Beomgyu?” you ask.

“Please just answer me,” Yeonjun says. He doesn’t want to run around in circles, he just wants to hear the truth from you.

“I don’t like Kai anymore.” Something about that sentence hits like a stab to the gut. Yeonjun would know the feeling.

He tsks and shakes his head, ready to walk away and end the conversation, but you continue, “Please let me say the whole story.” Yeonjun sighs and meets your eyes. He decides to hear you out, only because a part of him is dying for you to make this right.

“Go ahead,” he says.

“I invited you to the party because you’re my friend, and I think you’re cute, but also for really petty, stupid revenge. It was so dumb and I’m so sorry, I feel so fucking bad for that now,” you explain. Yeonjun thinks back to how excited he was when you asked him. He remembers the rush of butterflies, the nervousness that pooled in his stomach, the adrenaline through his veins when he realized he finally had your attention.

You continue, “But I swear on my life, Yeonjun, the second we went outside at that party, I realized how unfair it was. I wanted to make Kai jealous, but when we were standing out there, I couldn’t do it. You’re a good person, and I felt fucking awful, and I didn’t go through with anything, and I’m glad I didn’t. You gave me one of the best nights of my life that day. I mean that. Seriously.”

There’s sincerity in your eyes, so Yeonjun knows you’re not lying. The ache in his chest is dull now, but still there. He can’t believe you planned to use him as some pawn to get back at Kai.

“Why’d I have to hear it from someone else? Why couldn’t you tell me yourself?” he asks. It’s pathetic how his voice carries more heartbreak than anger.

“Cause I didn’t want you to misunderstand and leave!” you explain, desperate. “Yeonjun, please. I don’t care about Kai anymore. I haven’t even talked to him since the party.”

Yeonjun wishes he could feel comforted by your words, but all he feels is hurt. He has this terrible thing where he can’t stop asking questions that will only batter him worse. “So you didn’t really like me?”

You take a step closer to him, placing both hands over your heart. Yeonjun’s not blind; he can see the fear in your eyes, the worry that he might walk away. He doesn’t have it in him to relieve your stress right now.

“I always liked you. I like you more every day,” you answer. There’s honesty in your words, which Yeonjun appreciates. It doesn’t quite melt away his insecurities, though.

Yeonjun can’t bear looking at you any longer, dropping his gaze to the floor and stepping back. He’s ready to leave, thinking he needs the night to himself to stare at the ceiling and contemplate this whole situation.

You stop him before he can get too far. Your hand hooks onto the sleeve of his lab coat, shaking as you cling to him. It’s so pitiful that it ruins the monstrous image Yeonjun’s trying to fit you into in his mind. Against his better judgment, his eyes meet yours again.

He’s about to speak—maybe to console you, to get some of that sadness out of your eyes—but the sound of glass breaking behind him makes him turn with wide eyes, searching for the damage. He’ll be the one stuck replacing any broken equipment; he can only pray that it wasn’t a more expensive piece.

His eyes flit across the room, but he finds nothing. Is he seriously losing his mind? Every time he’s in this lab, there’s something new giving him a mini heart attack. He brushes this off as some kind of paranoia. He considers talking to his professor about taking a break from the lab, just until he can restore his sanity.

“Let’s just head out of here,” Yeonjun says, unable to rid himself of the chill down his spine.

“Do you still like me?” you ask, unable to move on from the conversation. You stay planted in your spot as Yeonjun takes off his lab gear. He groans internally at your question—of course he still likes you. Do you think his feelings are so malleable? His adoration for you feels like an immovable boulder. He can’t even stay mad at you for as long as he wanted to, though he tries not to let you win too easily.

He sighs out your name instead of answering. He waits for you at the door as he throws his sweatshirt back on, and you trudge forward with a pout. Once his sweatshirt is slipped over his head, he catches sight of something behind you, heart stopping entirely.

“What the hell—?!” he emits, eyes growing wide as the cell clump he’d been working with expands out past its storage spot, spilling out onto the floor. The broken glass earlier must’ve been from the petri dish—shit, he should’ve checked. It’s discolored now, so dark it’s nearly black, and growing more rapidly than it should be able to.

You spin on your feet to see what Yeonjun’s looking at, yelping when you see the growth. You back up quickly and bump into Yeonjun’s chest. “What’s happening?” you ask, turning your head back to look up at him.

“I don’t know,” he answers. He has to think fast, because it doesn’t look like the cell replication is stopping any time soon—if anything, it looks like it’s growing exponentially. The clump is a goo-like substance, slowly spilling out further and further onto the floor, looking something like tar as it expands out. “We’ll have to trigger rapid apoptosis,” he says.

“How do we do that?” you ask. Yeonjun’s not sure either, so he doesn’t bother to answer. He opens one of the cabinets and pulls out all the different liquid chemicals he can find. One of these is bound to do something.

You hold yourself and watch him carefully, still looking shy and desperate and nervous from your argument. Yeonjun’s not sure why you seem to be more bothered by him not reassuring you that he likes you than by the clump that grows behind you. Your attention remains on him the whole time.

“Are you mad at me?” you ask.

“No,” he answers sharply and quickly. He has bigger issues to be worried about than staying mad at you.

“I promise I wasn’t lying. I won’t talk to Kai ever again.”

“Why are we having this conversation right now?!” Yeonjun asks, frustrated.

“Because it’s important to me that you know!”

He ignores you in favor of unscrewing the lid to one of the acids, hoping it could digest the cells. When he pours it onto the clump, a loud hiss rings through the room and smoke comes up from the mass. It doesn’t seem to dissolve the cells, though.

He emits an exasperated groan, opening the lid to another chemical substance, and you rush to do the same. He can’t stop to think about how dangerous this is, too focused on controlling the problem before it gets irreparable. You and Yeonjun pour chemicals onto it at the same time, and it seems to react. The tar-like blob thickens now, erecting itself up from the floor languidly.

You and Yeonjun back up, watching with fearful eyes as it stands. It moves like it’s alive, like it’s a living organism. It’s eerily silent for a room as you two stare at the mass in shock. Then, rapidly, it comes charging at you, attaching itself to your cardigan as you shriek. Yeonjun acts fast, running to you and grabbing your waist, adhering his feet to the floor to keep you from getting dragged any more. You shed your cardigan quickly before tugging it back from the blob. It tears from how harsh you pull it, but you don’t seem to care, chucking it to the opposite side of the room.

This is an unfortunate time to see you in a tight-fitting tank top. Your chest heaves from the panic of being grabbed by the organism, rising and falling as you start to steady your breath. You look over at him, and he finds himself blushing and removing his gaze from you in embarrassment. God, now he’s the one struggling to focus on the bigger problem.

Yeonjun directs his wrist at the blob, shooting a web at it to keep it from charging at you again. The web sends the mass flying back until it collides with the wall. Though it can’t remove itself from the confines of the web, it still slowly grows, and it will be able to expand enough to attack again soon. Still, this should buy you two some more time.

“You should leave,” Yeonjun says, coming to you and cupping your face. His eyes beg you to go, strung up on the possibility of you getting hurt.

“I won’t,” you say, grabbing onto his wrists.

“Please. You’re too important.” His hand strokes through your hair like you’re something precious.

You take his hand and kiss it. “You are too. I won’t leave.”

He sighs. He knows he’s not winning this, there’s too much determination in your words. Before he removes his focus from you, he thinks he should tell you one last thing. “Just so you know, I like you too.”

You’re barely able to hold back your smile, but Yeonjun can’t stay and watch your reaction. The mass continues to grow over the confines of the web, and he has to find a way to control it before it overcomes the binds. He opens the binder that holds the descriptions of all the lab materials, hoping he can find something useful in there. His eyes flit across the words, scanning for the chemicals that will be his saving grace.

He stops when he reads the description for nitric acid. The words digest and dissolve kick his body to life, hope stirring inside of him. “Come here with the nitric acid!” he shouts over his shoulder.

“Which one is that?” you ask hurriedly, scanning through the different bottles of chemicals.

“It’s in a brown translucent bottle. Quick!” Before he can panic further, you’re racing to his side with a bottle of the acid. Yeonjun quickly pours it over the mass, watching it shrivel when the liquid hits its surface. A weight lifts off Yeonjun’s shoulders when he realizes he finally found something that works. The bottle doesn’t hold nearly enough, though, because Yeonjun empties it out before he can melt the organism completely.

He turns to you expectantly, and you’re rushing back to the counter where all the chemical substances are held. You’re turning each to read the labels, growing more aggravated as you fail to find another container of nitric acid. You curse as you swing the cabinet doors open, checking if there’s any stored away in there.

You pull out a bottle from the cabinet, reading it quickly. “Would sulfuric acid work?” you ask, looking at Yeonjun like you need him to say yes.

“It would react with the nitric acid,” he answers. You groan.

“You think I know any of this stuff?!” You go back to searching through the cabinet.

“Yes! You’re, like, the smartest girl I know!” Yeonjun exclaims, equally as frustrated.

“You must not know a lot of girls then,” you huff. You finally pull out a bottle that seems to match, running over to Yeonjun. He takes it from your hands and pours the liquid over what remains of the clump, watching it dissolve until all that’s left is a murky puddle on the floor. He plops the nitric acid onto a table, finally letting himself take a full breath. He tastes the chemicals swirling in the air, but he can’t bring himself to care about any toxins filling his lungs. He’s worn out, crouching down in exhaustion with a groan.

When he picks his head up from between his arms, he searches for you. You’re bent over one of the tables, head tucked between your arms as half your body rests over the surface. You must be just as drained as him. He stretches his body out as he stands back up, then approaches you at the opposite side of the table. He rests his elbows onto the tabletop, leaning forward to be closer to you.

“You get feisty when you’re working under pressure,” Yeonjun teases, breathless laugh escaping him. You lift your head to look at him, and he can see how you hold back your amusement.

“I could say the same about you,” you respond. You seem winded, still breathing hard as you push yourself off the table and pick up your cardigan from the floor. You hold up your cardigan and examine the damage. It’s stained and ripped and looks disgusting. You pout. “This was my favorite one…”

“Don’t worry, you’re pretty good at stitching things back up,” Yeonjun says, coming up to you and taking the cardigan from your hands to tie it around your waist. You look up at him, something fond shining in your eyes.

“I guess I am,” you say, tugging on Yeonjun’s sweatshirt to pull him closer to you. You wear a dopey smile as you stare at him, hands resting on his shoulders, and Yeonjun really hopes that you do what he knows you’re both thinking about right now.

You don’t leave him waiting long; your hand comes to his jaw to bring his face to yours, and the next second, Yeonjun’s having the best kiss of his life. It feels like a reward after the shitshow that today’s been. For it to come to this, he’d relive it a dozen more times.

“Wait,” Yeonjun says, pulling back. “Are we dating now?”

“Haven’t we been dating?” You look at him like he’s a fool, and it endears Yeonjun endlessly.

“I mean, boyfriend-girlfriend dating,” Yeonjun explains.

“Oh, I’ve already told, like, three people that you’re my boyfriend.” There might be real hearts in Yeonjun’s eyes right now.

“Good,” he says, coming in for another quick kiss. “I’m all yours.” His words are uttered against your lips, since he can’t seem to pull himself away from you.

You gladly accept his kisses, and he has to keep himself from getting too drunk off your taste. He has to remember he’s still in a lab with a bunch of chemicals filling the air—it’s probably a good idea to get out. Even though he doesn’t want to, Yeonjun steps back and looks around at the mess throughout the room. Given everything that happened, it’s not awful. A mop would take care of ninety percent of the problem.

“We should clean this up,” he sighs.

“Yeah,” you agree. Neither of you make a move. You start laughing after a few seconds, and Yeonjun returns his attention to you with a cheeky grin.

“No, let’s just leave,” he suggests. He’s exhausted. He’ll explain everything to his professor tomorrow, he can’t take any more of this today.

“Should we go back to my place then?” you ask. Yeonjun does a very poor job of hiding his excitement. He wants more than anything to hold you to his chest and zip across campus to get to your dorm, but alas, he does the smart thing instead. A ten minute walk has never felt more like ten hours in his life, and seeing your dorm building finally come into view has his heart racing in anticipation.

Yeonjun’s all over you the minute your door closes behind him. He doesn’t let your lips disconnect for a second—not to talk, not to breathe, because nothing’s more important than tasting your lips on his.

Your back falls to your mattress, and Yeonjun’s mind briefly wanders to the last time you two were here. Having you sprawled out beneath him is quite different than you patching him up above him. In a way, that moment felt like the start of something bigger between you. The initial spark came long before it, but that night is what caused fire to catch. He feeds the flame now, fingers untying the cardigan at your waist and throwing it to the floor. Your shirt’s the next thing to go, and he only pulls away long enough to shed the cloth off of you.

His mouth on yours is ravenous and unwilling to waste any more time. He feels up your stomach, cherishing the warm flesh with eager fingers. He trails his hands up to your chest, feeling your breasts over your bra. You gasp when he squeezes experimentally, and it encourages him to continue, movements growing hungry.

You break away from the kiss, panting for air while Yeonjun latches onto your jaw. He’s insatiable, sucking your skin and placing kitten licks over the mark after. He hovers his face over yours, biting back his grin when he sees how hazy your eyes have become.

You catch his face in your hand, cupping his jaw and thumbing his cheek. The action makes his heart soar, and he leans into your warm touch. Your smile turns from soft to wicked when you push your thumb between his lips, and he engulfs the digit without a fight.

“I like you,” you say as he sucks your thumb, blinking up at him adoringly like he’s not doing some lewd act right now. He swirls his tongue around you before popping it out of his mouth, kissing your fingertip then taking your hand in his own.

“I like you too.” His free hand goes behind your back to search for your bra clasp, fumbling with it clumsily until he gets it to disconnect. You pull the material off, and Yeonjun’s cock twitches in his pants when he takes in the sight of you. A part of him feels wrong for doing this, like this is too dirty, but a larger part of him can’t wait to indulge in you. He’ll just make sure to take you out for dinner after.

Yeonjun throws his sweatshirt and shirt to the floor, pride swirling inside him when he sees the way you ogle at his skin. You lay your hand over his chest, trailing your fingers over the expanse teasingly. He takes your wrist and drags your hand away.

“You don’t deserve to touch me. I’m still upset about Kai,” he says. It’s a lie, but he’s in a playful mood. Your hand makes its way back to his chest despite that, so he grabs it and brings it to the bed, shooting a web over your wrist so you can’t move it. He giggles. The whole web-slinging thing comes with some perks.

“Oh, come on,” you sulk as he does the same to your other wrist. He leans back for a moment, looking down at you all proud. A few different sights flash through his mind, endless possibilities of how he could make the most of your hands being restrained. Maybe he should punish you for ever liking Kai in the first place, keep you on the edge until you’re chanting apologies into the air. He could also just indulge in your body greedily, taste every inch of you without your hands pulling him away. The ache in his pants grows at the thought.

You sigh in satisfaction when his hand meets your clothed core. Your hips grind against his hand, and he allows you to use him to find your pleasure. Your hands close into fists as Yeonjun lets you ride his open palm, still fighting against your restraints.

“How much do you like me?” Yeonjun asks. His free hand holds your waist, fingers brushing against your skin gently.

“So much,” you answer, never abandoning your rhythm. “You’re so smart, and handsome, and funny, and—nngh—and good to me…” Yeonjun’s hand travels from your waist to your chest in reward, thumb rolling over one of your nipples.

“Yeah, I am good to you. I stay with you even though you’re mean to me.”

You shake your head at his statement. “I’m not mean to you,” you say.

He laughs at how you try to control yourself, how serious your tone gets. Your hips slow, so he takes measures into his own hands and moves his palm against your cunt instead. If he presses down hard enough, he can feel how wet you are even through your pants.

“You are,” he says. “You use me to get other men.” He knows that’s not true now, but a part of him is still a little bruised by the idea. He figures that airing out his insecurities like this might help him, and it makes him feel less vulnerable.

“No! That’s not true!” Yeonjun ignores you and takes off your pants, letting them join the other articles of clothing on your floor. He short circuits when he sees the wet patch on your panties. A sense of shame must fill you then, because your legs clamp shut to block his view.

“Hey, be nice,” he says, opening your legs back up. He holds you open as he presses his knee to your folds, and he can feel your arousal even through the fabric of his sweatpants. He’s squealing internally, overjoyed to have you soaking for him, but he keeps his calm on the outside.

Your hands push against the webs again, shaking the mattress a little. You pout at him. “I want to touch you,” you whine.

“Sorry about that,” he says. He matches your pout as his hands smooth down your legs, lazily exploring your flesh. He grabs your hips and positions them up a little so that you’re pressing into his thigh. He hears the moan that gets caught in your throat as he drags your cunt against him, holding back a satisfied smirk.

“Should I tell you what I like about you?” Yeonjun asks, something silky and smooth in his voice. You nod, rolling your hips over his thigh. “Say pleaseeeee,” he prompts.

“Please,” you echo. He giggles.

“Again.” He’s having fun.

“Please, Yeonjun,” you beg, sweet voice dripping with need.

He releases your hips so he can pull off your panties, tugging you back onto him once you kick the cloth off your ankles. He can really feel how wet you are now, and it makes a knot form in his stomach. He wants you more than anything.

“I like how pretty you are,” he starts, leaning over you to press kisses against your neck. “And I like how cool you are.” His mouth travels a little lower, sucking at your collarbone. “And I like how I can talk to you for hours and never get bored.” His lips smother your chest, just above your tits, familiarizing himself with every inch of your skin. Your hips buck against him when he presses his thigh more firmly between your legs. “And I like how wet you get,” he laughs.

His mouth finds your breasts then, tongue swirling teasingly around one of your buds. Your nipples perk up, begging for his attention. He drags his tongue over to your other mound, sucking at the swell of flesh, moaning against you. The taste of your skin in his mouth makes him feel high.

You whine, hips rolling more fervently against him, chasing your approaching high. Yeonjun busies himself with delivering kitten licks to your nipples, watching the way they glisten with his saliva after he runs his tongue across them a few times. He peels himself off of you when your rhythm gets unsteady, not wanting you to cum yet. There’s a look of betrayal on your face as he disconnects from you, not touching you at all anymore.

“Yeonjun,” you moan, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him in. “I need to cum.” Your needy cunt grinds against the tent in his boxers, hungrily trying to get yourself off. He lets you have your fun for a minute, enjoying the feel of your warm, wet slit coating his clothed cock, before holding your hips still and keeping you from moving. That doesn’t stop you from digging your heels into his back, pushing him harder against you.

He removes your legs from him, holding you open as he plunges two fingers into your cunt. Your heat takes him in so nicely, the slide of his digits inside you made so easy from how slick your cunt is. You arch your back, moaning out as he curls his fingers inside you.

“Tight girl, gotta stretch you out,” he says, scissoring his digits to prepare you. Your arousal pools out of you, dripping onto the mattress as Yeonjun fucks you on his fingers. “Need to get you ready for me.”

“Mhm, need your dick,” you say. You look so helpless like this, laying back and letting Yeonjun fuck his fingers into you however he wants. He increases his speed just because he can, knowing you can’t pry his hand away, grinning when you emit a surprised gasp. Your walls start tightening around his fingers, a warning of your orgasm, and Yeonjun pulls his hand away before you can get there.

You’re whining his name again, thighs clamping shut to relieve the pressure. He shushes you as he tugs his boxers out of the way, stroking his cock as he watches the way you tremble. Poor thing.

“You want me to fuck you?” he asks. Your legs spread open immediately in invitation. He watches as a glob of arousal drips out from your core.

“Yes,” you breathe out. He pumps his shaft a few more times before bringing it to your folds, letting your wetness coat his tip. “Put it in,” you beg, jerking your hips up. He ignores your plea, bringing the head of his cock to your clit to tap on it a few times. The stimulation sends a buzz through you, and Yeonjun coos at you sweetly.

“Want you to feel so good,” he says, aligning his tip to your hole and starts pushing in. You throw your head back and groan, and he gives your neck a wet kiss. “Wanna be the best you’ve had.” He sinks in slowly, letting your walls adjust to him inch by inch. You feel like heaven around him, and his fingers dig into your hips to keep himself from losing his mind. He wants to meld himself into you.

He grinds his pelvis against you when he bottoms out, steadying his breaths so he doesn’t lose himself too quickly. His moans are deep and airy, while yours are whiny and pathetic. He trails a hand up your body until he’s cupping your face, bringing your attention to him. You look dazed, and he wants to watch you fall apart. He needs to see your perfect face scrunched up with pleasure, eyes glassy and mouth open, going stupid from how fucked out you are.

He presses a light kiss against your lips, then leans his face into the crook of your neck. He finally starts pulling back, slamming back into you with a whimper. Your cunt takes him so readily despite how tight you are, your arousal making him glide in and out of you so easily.

“Gonna be perfect for you,” Yeonjun promises. “Be a good boyfriend. Fuck you every day. Keep you happy.” He lifts himself up to watch your mouth fall open as he thrusts into you. He presses against your stomach to feel himself inside you, moaning whorishly when he does. It makes him fuck you harder, desperation coursing through his system.

You can barely speak from how far gone you are, stuttering out curses and whimpers of his name. He brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing at the swollen bud to get you clenching around him. He groans at how tight you get, sucking him in like your body was meant to take him.

“Need you to cum now,” Yeonjun says, feeling his high looming over. “Gotta feel you milking my cock, let me see it.”

“Kiss me,” you say breathlessly, mouth hanging open as you wait for him to take it. He obliges eagerly, shoving his tongue into your mouth with a needy whine. He licks into you as if this will coax your orgasm out, and it does. Your walls clamp around him, and he’s barely able to move from how tight you get. He circles your clit diligently, only letting up when your body jolts in overstimulation.

He pulls out soon after, only having to stroke himself a few times before he’s spilling his seed onto your stomach. He groans as he milks himself for every last drop, hand shaking as he releases the last of it. You look hot painted with his cum; he bites his lip and squeezes your thighs, needing more and more of you.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he says, making you turn your head away shyly.

“Thanks. You are too.” His stomach flips, feeling proud that he earned your praise. He lowers himself to your torso, lapping at the milky strands of his cum. He cleans you nicely, swallowing down his own release until your stomach’s coated in only his saliva. He brings himself to your slit to lap at it languidly, loving the little whines you emit at the sensation.

“Did so good for me, thank you,” he murmurs into your cunt. He pushes his tongue into your entrance, slowly fucking the muscle inside you. You sigh and roll your hips against his face, relaxed and melting into the feeling.

“Y-you’re good too,” you praise. He licks his way up to your clit, taking it into his mouth and letting his tongue roll over the bud. He likes to hear that he’s being good for you, it makes him feel like he’s worthy of you. He thrives off your happiness, so he feels content as he pleases you with his mouth.

He never wants to let you go. He wants you in his arms forever, he wants to stay in this room and live the rest of his life with just you by his side. This much is enough for him. He glides his hands down your thighs, letting his fingers lightly drag along your skin. He opens his mouth a little more to taste more of you, to kiss your folds more hungrily. He presses the tip of his tongue to your bud, focusing the pressure right against it until he hears you mewl.

“Right there!” you gasp out, pressing yourself further into Yeonjun’s face. He hooks his arms around your thighs to keep you in place, making sure you don’t jolt away when your orgasm creeps up on you. He flicks his tongue over your clit repeatedly, feeling your thighs shake in his grasp. He doesn’t stop until you’re releasing on his face, coating his mouth and chin with your essence.

He detaches himself after a minute, licking his lips and letting go of your legs. He sits up and smiles at you, taking in how pretty you look. He holds your jaw so he can kiss you, and he can’t help but to giggle into the kiss. This is so surreal. He would have fainted if he knew one month ago that this would be happening to him.

“Hi,” you say when he finally pulls his face from yours. This feels like a dream.

“Hi,” he echoes, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He cherishes the smile you give him.

“So when does this dissolve?” you ask, tugging at the webs holding your arms in place. Yeonjun scratches his neck bashfully. That's enough of an answer for you. “Yeonjun…” you sigh, body deflating.

“Less than two hours!” he rushes to say.

“Two hours?!”

“It’s not that bad. I think we can pass the time,” he says, failing to hold back his smile.

Your eyes flit down to his stirring cock. “I guess I have nothing better to do,” you give in. Yeonjun sees right through your nonchalant act, but he lets you get away with it. He has better things to busy himself with than arguing about that.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You bring Yeonjun to the market after learning about the laundry detergent debacle. You place the item in your basket, shaking your head at him as you do. “I can’t believe your roommate had to tell me to get you to buy this.”

Yeonjun raises his hands in defense. “I get busy sometimes,” he says.

“With coming to my dorm every other night?” you ask with a raised brow, walking into the next aisle.

Yeonjun drops a candy bar into the basket alongside the detergent. “No, with lab stuff, and class stuff, and Spidey stuff,” he corrects. He picks up a bottle of your favorite drink as he passes by it on the shelf. “And with girlfriend stuff,” he adds sweetly.

“Right,” you say unconvincingly, smiling as you nod your head.

Yeonjun grabs a pair of sunglasses off a rack, placing them on his face and turning to you with a grin. “How cool are these?” he asks, pointing at himself.

You laugh and lift the sunglasses up so they rest on his head. “So cool,” you answer. You tilt your head to check the price on them. “You should totally spend the last of your money on them.”

He pulls the glasses off his face to check the price tag, eyebrows raising in reaction. He puts them back on the rack. He can’t get rid of the smile on his face as he watches you shop, endeared and swooned by every little thing you do. It’s small moments like these that make him feel like the luckiest guy on earth.

“We should get bandages. I can’t believe you don’t have any,” you say, looking for where the item would be in the store.

“There’s a lot of things I don’t have. I’m operating on a limited budget,” he explains. It’s not like he can tackle a job on top of everything else he does. He’s grown accustomed to his ways of living, accepting that he’s become the male college student stereotype.

“I’m glad I stepped into your life then,” you say, throwing a box of bandages into your basket. “I’m actually scared you’d die without me.”

Yeonjun can’t help but to laugh at that. “I would die without you,” he agrees. He follows you as you continue walking around the store, aimlessly searching for anything you might need. You stop when you feel your phone buzz, pulling out your phone upon receiving a notification, checking it curiously. He reads the message over your shoulder; it’s an alert from your local news station about some rescue mission for a bunch of dogs that ran loose from their shelter just now. You turn to him with a knowing smile.

“That’s your cue, Spider-man.”

notes: god i loved writing this so much…. i hope u like spideyjjun just as much as i do<3 i would love to hear ur thoughts if u have anyyy!!! tysm for reading hehe

taglist: @ambsphoria @bananasdiary @beaabz @beomgyusluver @beomsdoll @brrytears @bumgyuz @dawngyu @enhastolemyheart @estrnrea @fancypeacepersona @fatbixchwithanopinion @heejamas @heesmiles @insanityz @i4tzy @jellyyjn @kejingken @lilbrorufr @lovesickchoi @mrsjohnnysuh @raspberrii @sanscupid @saraalovestxt @soobinieswife @starrynightgyu @starstrucktae @taebatu @taysfairies @tubatukimoa @tyongyuta @usuallyunlikelyfox @verco @vvjolyneee @xylatox @younbeanz @yourenzoo @yunverie 🤍

© delugyu 2025, do not translate or reupload

[tranquilreign]

seven | oneshot | 18+

- © tranquilreign - all rights reserved | DO NOT STEAL, TAKE, or COPY any of MY WORK without MY PERMISSION.

🗒 details

pairing; jungkook/reader genre: 18+ f!boyjk! college au! rivals to lovers(?) warnings: swearing, sexual-fucking-tension, teasing, jimin likes to join in on the teasing (slightly), porn with little plot (?), sexual themes, nudity, oral (m&f receiving), a lot of teasing, fingering, praise kink, creampie, protected sex (reader is on contraception), jealous kookie, needy kookie, deep throating, orgasm denial, slightly possessive kookie, nipple play, dirty talk, voyeurism, public sexish(?), hickies, overstimulation, mirror sex, just a lot of sex word count: 14.5k permanent taglist: @someoneelse0109

🖋 synopsis

seven (n.) seh·vehn a group or unit of seven people or things

seven days a week, seven locations, plenty of positions. when you lose a bet to infamous playboy jeon jungkook, you can't help but feel as if you lost on purpose.

🖇links

jungkook masterlist main masterlist request | request rules prompt list

Saturday.

Music blasted from the house speakers, so loud that the liquids in the discarded cups and bottles rippled in time with the bass. It was the end of the college year, meaning you had to celebrate by drinking away the weekend.

Groups of friends hussled together, the confined space almost claustrophobic. Several people had abandoned the party early, pulling someone up the stairs by the hand, obviously to have some privacy.

Jungkook sat at one of the tables, a smug look plastered over his face as he dealt another round of cards. His friends sat around him, nudging each other and muttering amongst themselves.

You sat across from Jungkook, lightly tapping your nails against the wood. Your other arm was casually slung over the back of Namjoon's chair. Letting out a sigh of impatience, you let your head roll back, exposing your neck to the infamous fuckboy.

He watched you closely, subconsciously licking his lips as he stared at the sweat that glistened against your skin.

"Sometime today, Kook," you teased.

You looked back at him, staring at him with such an intensity that he swallowed out of mild nervousness. You didn't like Jungkook, but you didn't hate him either. He was a fuckboy, and a charming one at that.

He knew exactly what to say and how to act to get any girl to want him. It infuriated you, him having a new girl every night. The thought of him being buried between another girl's legs made you jealous beyond belief.

Not that you would ever admit that to him. You knew he would flirt with other girls to get your attention, always stealing glances to ensure you were watching. But two could play at that game. From then on, whenever one of his friends would speak to you, you made sure to be extra friendly, your touch lingering a little too long on their arms or chest when they made you laugh.

They had taken notice of your antics, finding it amusing that you could bite back. Jungkook's best friend, Jimin, had decided to play along. He would lean against the wall that your back was pressed against, and move down to speak in your ear. Your eyes would stay on Jungkook, watching his jaw clench and usually soft and playful eyes turn into a glare.

"Have some patience, Y/n," Jungkook replied, dealing out the final card and setting the deck face down onto the table.

You stood out of your chair, leaning over to him. He watched you hungrily, eyeing your cleavage. You subtly pushed your breasts closer together, smirking, when Jungkook reacted. You took his bucket hat from him, giggling flirtatiously when you placed it on your head and sat back down.

Jungkook didn't utter a word as he watched your breasts bounce lightly. He tried not to palm himself in his jeans, feeling the discomfort increase.

"Just get on with it. I'm getting bored," you taunted, side eyeing Jimin, who sat on your left.

He tried his best to stifle his laughs, watching the scene unfold. He loved nothing more than watching Jungkook lose himself with you. He knew Jungkook loved making you jealous, but nothing was more fun than contributing to making him jealous.

"Alright, alright," Jungkook breathed.

The game started with Jungkook as the dealer. You looked at your cards: two of diamonds and an ace of spades. Jungkook slowly worked around the circle, and people either stayed or went bust when they asked for another card.

"Right, your turn, Y/n."

"Hit," you spoke.

Jungkook flipped a card down onto the table. Six of diamonds. You nodded, indicating another hit. Jungkook flipped another card. Three of clubs. You sat and thought, looking at everyone else's hands. Not many high cards had been flipped, increasing your chances of a loss.

"Sometime today, Y/n," Jungkook mocked.

You smiled sarcastically at him, asking him for one more hit. You bit your lip, watching as Jungkook flipped the final card for you. Queen of hearts.

"Fuck," you whined, throwing your cards onto the table. "I'm bust."

Jungkook grinned, tutting at you tauntingly. Your tongue darted across your upper lip, suppressing the urge to insult him.

"I just think you cheat. Every game we've played, I've either been bust or you've had a higher number than me by one," you huffed, rolling your eyes.

Jungkook laughed.

"I'm afraid Blackjack is a game of chance, love. Maybe you're just unlucky," he teased, piling all the cards back into the deck.

"I'm not this unlucky."

Jungkook ran his hand through his hair and leaned back in his seat. He shuffled the cards casually, locking eyes with you.

"I'll tell you what. I'll let you shuffle and deal," he suggested, sliding the cards over to you. "And we'll make a bet."

The idea intrigued you. Leaning forward, you rested your elbows on the table, your chin on your interlocked hands. You thought for a moment, then shrugged and grabbed the cards.

"Fine. If I win," you began, shuffling the cards skillfully in your hands, "you can't sleep with anyone for a month."

Jungkook grinned. He liked where you had gone with this bet. He let his thoughts wander, wondering what the best reward would be for him if he won. His eyes landed on Jimin, who casually put his arm over your chair and leaned close to whisper in your ear. His gaze hardened at his friend's closeness, which you had noticed.

"If I win, I get to have you all to myself next week."

His friends let out cheers in unison, while your stomach flipped. You hadn't expected him to be so bold, especially in front of his friends. You shifted in your seat, feeling your underwear dampen at his words.

"Fine."

You dealt the cards between the two of you. You glanced at your cards, checking they didn't add up to twenty-one while Jungkook looked at his.

"Hit," he spoke, voice breathy.

You flipped over the first card, revealing a 5 of clubs. He asked for another hit, and you obeyed, flipping over the next card. He grinned.

"Stay."

He placed his cards down onto the table, revealing twenty-one. You closed your eyes, letting out a sigh in disbelief. How was this man so damn lucky?

You had a nine of spades and a three of hearts, which was not a good start. The first card you flipped had you cursing under your breath. Throwing your hand onto the table, you let your head fall against the back of the chair.

"Bust."

Jungkook and his friends cheered and laughed, looking at the king of spaces on the table with your two other cards.

"Looks like you're gonna be all mine next week, love," Jungkook teased, eyeing you lustfully.

Your nerves got the better of you, and you avoided eye contact with the man who smirked at you. Your heart raced at his words, your chest rising and falling quickly.

Jungkook stood up and squeezed past his friends, so he stood next to you. He hooked his forefinger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. Jungkook suppressed a groan when you looked at him. He fought with every ounce of his being not to take you right there on the table.

"I'll see you Monday, love. I'm really looking forward to it."

Sunday.

You had awoken with a pounding headache, groaning as you sat up. The rays from the morning sun shone through the partially closed blinds, making you screw your eyes shut to try and block the light.

"Morning," a familiar voice hummed next to you.

Hoseok sat beside you, holding some ibuprofen and a glass of water. You had ended up at Hoseok's house, which he shared with Namjoon and Yoongi.

"Thanks," you rasped, taking the medicine from Hoseok's palm.

You threw your head back, letting the pill fall into your mouth. Then, you took a gulp of water, letting it wash down with ease.

"You remember what happened last night?" Hoseok asked.

"Unfortunately, yes, I do," you sighed.

You let your head fall into your hands, recalling the previous night. You had lost the bet with Jungkook, meaning that tomorrow, you were all his. You sat, crossing your fingers, silently praying he would forget.

Ping.

"Of course," you groaned.

You knew who it was before you even checked your phone. Jungkook's message popped up on your screen, making you want to hide away under the covers of Hoseok's bed.

Make sure you're at mine by 11:00 pm. Our bet won't start til tomorrow, but I want you here before then. You'll be all mine from the second it hits midnight.

"Hoseok," you whined. "Please get me out of this."

"No can do. You made that bet when you were tipsy. And you had been teasing that boy all night. You did this to yourself," Hoseok replied.

He stood up and left, leaving you to your own thoughts. You fell back onto he bed, groaning in frustration. Why did you have to tease him so much? The idea of this bet wouldn't have even crossed your mind if you weren't shamelessly flirting with him and his best friend.

Huffing, you pulled yourself out of bed, tugging on your joggers, which Hoseok probably took off for you last night, and slumped down the stairs.

"Morning, Y/n," Namjoon greeted with a grin.

"Don't, I know what you're gonna say," you replied, holding your hand up to him. "I fucked up."

"I wouldn't say that," Yoongi mumbled from the chair behind you. "More so that Jungkook's gonna fuck you up-"

"Oh my god, stop!" you cried out, burying your face in your hands.

The two boys laughed as Hoseok entered, carrying a plate of bacon, eggs and toast. He put the plate on the table as you moved to sit down.

"It can't be that bad, can it?" Namjoon asked. "I mean, ever since the start of college, you've both been trying to get each other worked up or jealous."

"That's different, though! It's harmless flirting," you defended, picking up your fork and playing with the scrambled eggs.

"Yeah, because Jungkook looking like he's gonna rail you against the wall all the time is harmless flirting," Yoongi replied.

He moved up from the chair to stand beside you, leaning against the island table on his forearms.

"Just admit it, you both like each other."

"We don't like each other," you snapped, glaring at the man. "He's a fuckboy, liking someone isn't in his brain chemistry."

"I'm just saying, people who don't like each other don't get jealous when they aren't getting attention," Yoongi finished, shrugging.

You smacked him on the shoulder gently, scolding him for his words. He only grinned, pushing himself off the table and moving into the living room.

"You might be overthinking this as well," Namjoon added.

You snorted.

"Joon, it's Jungkook. Of course he's going to try and fuck me," you replied.

"Are you against that?"

You were silent, unknowing of what to say. You had no idea why you were suddenly against this bet. The thought of it last night excited you, so why did it leave you feeling self-conscious?

"See. You're just overthinking," Namjoon stated.

With that, he walked away, leaving you alone. You thought over the different scenarios that could play out. Not knowing how this would go down made you even more nervous, but all you could do now was wait.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Evening had come around much sooner than you would have liked. You packed a travel bag, filled with all the essentials, and realised that if Jungkook wanted this, you would give it to him and make this an unforgettable week for both of you.

Standing before his apartment door, you inhaled deeply, feeling your nerves slowly return. Gently, you knocked, looking at your phone to appear nonchalant. The door swung open to reveal Jungkook—except he stood in nothing but a towel.

"Hey-" you paused when you looked up from your phone.

All casualness had disappeared as your eyes wandered shamelessly over his body. Water dripped from his hair into his muscular chest, and the muscles in his arms tensed slightly as he adjusted the towel hanging loosely around his waist. He couldn't help but grin as your eyes roamed his body.

"Bang on eleven," he teased. "Eager are we?"

You scoffed.

"You wish."

You gently pushed past him, careful not to accidentally touch him as you did so. He watched you closely, noticing how your breathing had picked up when you entered.

You couldn't help but gasp in awe at his home. It was beautiful, stylised in a modern aesthetic, and surprisingly tidy. The black furniture contrasted elegantly with the living room's white walls, with hints of colour being found in the accessories.

"You actually have good taste," you sighed.

"And what do you mean by that?" he asked, suspiciously close to your ear.

You jerked away at his sudden closeness, stepping away to ensure space between you.

"I just mean, I pictured you to seem more... basic, I guess," you responded. "So where am I sleeping then?"

"With me, of course."

Your head fell back as you let out a loud, overdramatic laugh. Jungkook raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to finish. You looked back at him, your smile faltering when you realised he was serious.

"Oh hell, no," you protested. "Nu-uh. You said-"

"I said-" Jungkook interrupted you, "that I would fully have you to myself as of next week. But there is only one bedroom, and I'd be damned if I'm letting you sleep on the couch."

"Then you sleep on the couch!" you countered.

"No, it's my bed."

"Yes!"

"No."

"Yes!" you cried out, growing frustrated.

"Either way, if you sleep on the couch or in the bed, I'll be by your side," Jungkook explained.

Your heart fluttered at his words. He sounded sincere, almost as if he wanted to be close to you. To feel your skin on his.

"Fine," you grumbled. "But no funny business."

"At least until midnight," he grinned cheekily.

Monday.

Surprisingly enough, Jungkook hadn't tried anything, even after it hit midnight. You stood in the kitchen, humming quietly as you cooked breakfast. You'd be lying if you said you weren't nervous. You never expected this to happen between you and Jungkook, let alone it happening because of a stupid bet.

Jungkook had awoken not long after you, hair still a mess, as he walked into the kitchen in his boxers. He stood behind you, looking over your shoulder as you cooked.

"Smells good," he hummed, his breath fanning your neck.

You shivered at his raspy voice. He couldn't help but grin, walking over to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Your stomach flipped, and you felt yourself becoming wet. You hated how he had such an effect on you despite doing so little. You frowned, wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine.

As if a switch inside you flipped, you decided to suppress the nerves and fight back.

You ever so slightly pushed the waistband of your joggers down, revealing your emerald green underwear. You pulled at the sides, bringing them up over your hips to make it more visible.

Jungkook had walked back through as you were plating the food. His eyes immediately fell to your hips, inhaling sharply when he noticed your underwear. He felt his mouth go dry, his cock twitching in his boxers.

Fuck it.

He moved towards you, grabbing your hips and spinning you around to look at him. You were shocked by the sudden action, having no time to react when he pulled you in by the nape of your neck, kissing you.

He was rough, forcing open your mouth by gripping your cheeks with his hand. His tongue past your lips, entangling with your own. You moaned against his kiss, the sound almost sending him into a frenzy.

He pulled your body up against him, letting you feel his bulge poking your stomach. You ran your hand down his chest, stopping just above the waistband of his boxers. He hissed when you gently tugged the fabric and let it go, it slapping softly against his skin.

"Keep teasing me, and I'll show you what it's like," Jungkook warned.

You smirked into the kiss, continuing your ministrations while your other hand tangled in his hair, tugging occasionally. He grunted at your movements, his patience thinning. The final tug of his hair sent him over the edge. He pulled away, moving to shove the plates of food onto the floor with a crash.

"Jungkook," you scolded.

He didn't listen, spinning and bending you over the kitchen counter. You gasped, feeling his hands on your waist, massaging your sides. He bent over you, his bare chest flush against your back.

"I warned you not to tease me. But you decided to act like a brat," he spoke lowly. He straightened back up, staring at the waistband of your joggers. He hesitated.

"If you're going to fuck me, do it," you challenged.

That's all he needed to hear. Your joggers were at your ankles, your thong and ass on full display. He let out a groan, grabbing the flesh and kneading it.

"God, you're so fucking hot," he breathed, gently spanking you, watching as you ass recoiled against his touch. "I'll have you begging for mercy by the time I'm done with you."

He knelt down, now level with your clothed heat. He breathed heavily, the cool air making you shiver as it hit against your soaked underwear. He chuckled at your reaction and leaned in, licking a slow strip up your clothed entrance.

The feeling of his warm tongue and the fabric of your underwear had an involuntary moan escape your lips. You jerked forward slightly at the sensation, not expecting it to feel so good. His hands moved back to your hips, pulling you back with a tug and keeping you in place.

Another moan echoed throughout the kitchen as he repeated his action, this time, his nose gently brushing against your clit before his tongue touched you.

"Fucking hell, Koo~" you moaned in bliss.

The use of the new nickname had him palming himself in his boxers, and the strain of release became too much. Letting go of one of your hips, he pulled his boxers down slightly allowing his cock sit against his stomach comfortably.

He moved his full attention back onto you, running his hands over your hips and grabbed the band on your underwear. You wiggled your ass, silently giving him permission to continue. Jungkook pulled your underwear off in one swift motion, letting it pool at your ankles with your joggers.

He couldn't help but groan at the sight of you, your wetness glistening against the light. Jungkook moved his hands to the back of your thighs, rubbing them and accidentally letting his thumb brush over your clit. You gasp at his touch, subconsciously pushing back into him. He stopped your actions.

"This is what you get when you disobey me," he breathed.

You whined at his words, but were too prideful to beg. He hummed, smirking as you squirmed in defiance. He brought his fingers up to your entrance, running his fore and middle finger between your folds, glazing them in your essence.

"Koo~ please," you cried, entirely giving up on what little dignity you had left.

"Since you asked so nicely."

A high-pitched moan ripped from your throat as Jungkook eased his fingers into you, almost pulling back out fully, then pushing back in further.

Your head fell against the counter, your legs shaking at his teasing movements. He grinned at how easily you melted into him, his fingers now entirely inside you. He gently curled his fingers, hitting against your sweet spot.

"Oh- oh my god," you breathed, your hand moving instinctively to the edge of the countertop and grabbing the edge.

"You're being obedient for me now? Being such a good girl," Jungkook whispered, seduction lacing his voice.

You let out a hum, nodding in response. Jungkook changed his tactic, thrusting his fingers into you at a steady pace. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the new feeling, and your walls tightened around him.

He chuckled at your body's natural reaction, deciding he'd reward you for your obedience. He leaned forward attaching his lips to your clit and sucking gently.

The combined feeling of his mouth and fingers had you seeing stars, instantly having you reach your high. A string of moans left your lips, your body trembling as Jungkook helped you ride out your orgasm. He slowly pulled his fingers out of you, making you whimper at the sensitivity between your legs.

"You look so good like this, baby," he exhaled.

Jungkook was pressed back up against you, cock resting between your ass cheeks. His breaths grew uneven as he began to grind into you.

"For fuck sake Koo, just fuck me," you pleaded, your hips bucking back into him when he'd grind into you.

"I'll need to-"

"I'm on contraception," you interrupted. "And fuck me properly, no more of these teasing shit," you paused. "Please."

Jungkook could have came right there at your words. He wasted no time taking his cock and positioning it at your entrance, soaking his tip in your arousal. You both moaned in unison, each feeling the pleasure.

He pushed in slowly, letting out a grunt as he felt you tighten around him again. Your moans mixed in with his as he stretched you, only stopping when he was fully inside. He leaned over you, the feeling of him pulling out of you slightly leaving you breathless.

"Are you ready, baby? Because once I start, I won't stop until I'm satisfied."

"God Koo~ yes, so ready for you," you cried, pushing back into him.

He straightened, grabbing your hips and, without any hesitation, thrusted back into you. You pulled your t-shirt up, stuffing it into your mouth to suppress your moans, the pleasure euphoric.

"Fuck, you feel so fucking good," Jungkook grunted, his head falling back from the pleasure.

His hand moved to your hair, pulling your head up. Your t-shirt fell out of your mouth, and you let out continuous moans. He laughed breathily, the sounds you made making him go feral.

"Let me hear you, baby," he grunted, his thrusts becoming rougher. "You're being such a good girl. Taking me so well."

"Yes, fuck Koo~" you whimpered. "Your good girl."

Jungkook almost came from your words. He had never thought you would be so submissive for him. He untangled his hand from your hair and moved it past your waist and between your legs.

"Come for me," he whispered.

His fingers rhythmically rubbed your clit in circular motions as he slightly slowed his pace. The combined feeling of him stretching your walls along with him stimulating your clit sent you over the edge. A long, breathy moan left you as your body shook again.

Jungkook didn't stop, though, leaving you a whimpering mess when the sensitivity became too much for you. You moved your arms behind you to push him away, but he held them behind your back with one hand.

"Just a little longer, baby," he breathed. "Be good for me a little longer."

Despite your sensitivity, you didn't actually want him to stop. The feeling of him in you was unbelievable. Pure bliss, you had never felt so complete or fulfilled by anyone. His grip on your arms and waist kept you in place as he trusted a few more times before reaching his high.

"Fuck Koo~" you whined, feeling him fill you with his come.

Jungkook grunted as he slowed his pace, riding out his orgasm. He exhaled, finally stopping his thrusts. Slowly, he pulled out, groaning as he watched his semen drip out of your soaked cunt.

"God, you're perfect," he breathed. "If I could, I'd bend you back over that counter."

You laughed, slowly, standing up straight, your mixed orgasms running down your leg. You wobbled slightly. Jungkook noticed, moving to grab your waist and keep you steady.

"I'll help you to the bathroom, baby. Get yourself cleaned up, and I'll clean up in here," he spoke softly, looking at the broken plates and food scattered over the floor.

Putting his cock back into his boxers, he then scooped you into his arms without hesitation, carrying you to the bathroom. He sat you down on the toilet, gently tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear.

"Thank you."

"Once you're finished in the shower, I'll also get cleaned up. I just don't want you stepping on any ceramic shards."

He left momentarily, leaving you by yourself.. With your desire now subsiding, you finally realised that you had sex with Jeon Jungkook. You buried your face in your hands, wanting to scream with joy.

You turned on the shower, thinking that six more days of this would be pure bliss.

Tuesday.

Today was different. You were awoken by your phone ringing, its sharp notes making Jungkook grunt in annoyance.

"Sorry," you mumbled, groggy.

You leaned over to the bedside table, sluggishly grabbing hold of it. You answered without looking at the caller, putting it to your ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey Y/n."

Jimin.

"Oh hey," you replied, perking it up a little.

Jungkook lifted his head, listening closely to the person on the other end. When he realised it was Jimin, he scoffed, threw the bed sheets off himself, and grabbed a pair of grey joggers. Without saying a word, he walked out of the bedroom.

You watched him leave, confused by his behaviour. Shrugging it off, you focused your attention back on Jimin.

"I just wanted to check up on you and see how it's going with Kook."

"It's uh-it's great," you replied sheepishly.

Jimin chuckled at your embarrassed tone. Jungkook returned, his glare hardening when he saw you still on the phone. He walked over, snatching the device from your hand.

"Hey!" you called.

"Sorry Jimin, she's gonna have to call you back," he snapped before handing up.

"Kook, what the fuck was that for!" you asked angrily.

He huffed, tossing your phone onto the bed, grabbing you by your ankle, and pulling you to the edge. You squeaked at the sudden pull, falling quiet when you locked eyes with him. He was jealous.

"You're mine, got it?"

You couldn't help but smile at him. Silently, you moved onto your knees, ass resting on your heels and slowly ran your hand up his bare chest. He melted slightly into your touch, a quiet sigh leaving his lips.

"If I weren't yours, would I be here?" you asked innocently.

He hummed at your question, not trusting himself to speak. You moved up from your heels, wrapping your arm around his neck, pulling him down and kissing him.

Jungkook smirked into the kiss, trying to take control of the situation when you pulled away. You shook your head, moving to stand up and spinning him around so he faced away from the bed. You pushed him gently, making him sit down.

You sank back down to your knees, spreading his legs further apart with your hands. He watched you eagerly, silently consenting to your movements.

Jungkook was hard, an outline of his bulge straining against his trousers. You palmed him through the fabric, making him throw his head back, letting out a quiet moan.

Slowly and teasingly, you pulled his trousers and boxers down, revealing his length. Wrapping your hand around his dick, you ran your finger over his tip. He shivered at the pleasure, locking eyes with you as you did so.

You smiled teasingly, pulling away and seductively licking the tip of your thumb. Jungkook couldn't take his eyes off you, finding you alluring to watch. You grabbed his cock again, running your now wet thumb over his head.

The new feeling had him leaning back on his hands, groaning. You flirtatiously tilted your head.

"You like that, Koo?~" you teased, applying a little more pressure as you swiped over his tip again.

"Fuck yes, baby," he spoke breathlessly.

You hummed, noticing pre-cum leaking from his cock. Taking the opportunity, you moved forward and wrapped your lips around him.

Jungkook instinctively grabbed the sheets on his bed, the feeling of your tongue swirling around his cock sending him into a state of euphoria.

All the jealousy he felt for Jimin was out the window. You were here with him, not Jimin, significantly boosting his ego. He fought the urge to thrust up into your throat, not knowing if it was something you would enjoy.

Like he had done to you yesterday, you slowly took in more of him with every bob of your head. You coated his cock in your saliva, making everytime you went back down on him easier.

He watched as you slowly worked your way down him, eyes widening in surprise, impressed by how well you were taking him. Relaxing your throat, and with one final push, you had taken him down to his base.

"Ah, fuck," he moaned, running his hand through your hair.

When you could no longer hold your breath, you pulled back, a gagging sound following. You gasped, your hand moving up and down his length to keep pleasuring him.

"Taking my cock so well," he cooed, moving his hand from your hair to your chin, wiping away saliva that ran down.

"I'm not done yet, baby," you whispered.

You moved back, and instead of deep throating him again, you bobbed your head at a steady pace, hollowing your cheeks as you did so. He groaned, slowly losing himself to the pleasure. He bucked his hips upwards, taking you a little by surprise.

"Shit, sorry baby," he stammered. "You just feel so fucking good."

You hummed, sending vibrations through him. He shook, feeling his orgasm getting close. You listened to him stutter, trying to speak. Knowing he was close, you suddenly pulled back, making him whine at the loss of pleasure.

"Why'd you do that?" he asked, pouting at you.

"You don't want to fuck me?" you asked, feigning innocence.

Those words alone gave him all the strength he needed. Jungkook grabbed you by the waist and stood, turning you and pushed you down onto the bed. He discarded his trousers and boxers entirely, climbing on top of you.

You lay underneath him, which gave him plenty of time to examine you thoroughly. He slowly ran his hand up your naked thigh, stopping just before he reached your underwear. You let out a slight whine when he stopped.

He continued shortly after, but instead of touching you where you wanted him most, he moved up, his hand snaking under your white t-shirt and in between your breasts.

"You think teasing me funny, baby?" you taunted.

"You weren't complaining when I was doing it," you pouted.

Ping.

The sound made you both look at your phone. Jimin's name could be read on the screen. Jungkook's jealousy rose again at his friend's name, and you watched his expression change. You bit your lip, unsure of what would come.

Jungkook lost all chivalry, tearing your t-shirt off from the neck. You yelped as your breasts bounced from the movement, nipples hardening from the cool air. Your breathing increased as he stared, eyes hardened in jealousy.

You watched as he lowered himself to your right breast, his hand snaking up to the other, grasping it firmly. He let his finger run lightly over your nipple while his lips attached to the other one.

You arched your back as the sensation of pleasure travelled through your body at his actions. He flicked and sucked at your nipple, occasionally biting gently, while his fingers worked on the other one.

"Holy shit. Kook."

"You have no idea how crazy you drove me when Jimin would flirt with you. You're mine, got that? And if I have to fuck that into you for you to understand, I will," he growled against your skin.

He switched to your other breast, blowing cold air against your nipple, then encasing his lips around it.

"I'm only yours," you replied, tangling your fingers through his hair.

Good.

He pulled back, staring at your reddened breasts. He grinned, moving to your underwear and pulling them off. His eyes rolled to the back of his head when he saw how wet you were.

Jungkook moved back up so he hovered over you, his cock pressed against your entrance. He looked at you, to which you nodded, and he pushed in.

"Fuck," you whispered, wrapping your legs around him and pushing him all the way.

He lowered himself, moaning softly into your ear at the familiar feeling of you around him. Jungkook grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed and effortlessly lifted your ass, placing the pillow underneath you.

Resting you back down onto the pillow, the new angle had you whimpering at how deep he was. He buried his face into your neck, breathing softly. You caressed his hair, letting your fingers glide down to trace small patterns into his muscular back.

He slowly pulled out and eased back into you, the feeling of him stretching you out, leaving you in a state of pure bliss. He grunted, feeling himself losing his composure at how good you felt.

"Baby, you feel so good," he mumbled, his breathing restless.

"Kook. Please," you begged, your back arching uncontrollably.

He aggressively kissed your neck, biting ever so slightly. He straightened and grabbed you by the hips. You both paused, looking at each other for a moment, then he proceeded to move you in rhythm with his thrusts.

You wailed, grabbing hold of Jungkook's forearms as some type of support for the pleasure you were feeling. He panted, watching as his cock slipped in and out of you with ease.

You both groaned in unison. Jungkook's thrusts slowed, but they became rougher as he did so. You were seeing stars, mouth agape from the pleasure as he hit you deeper than he had before.

He traced one of his hands up your body, to your breasts, massaging them. His fingers ran over your sensitive nipple, and then pinched, the pain and pleasure a perfect combination.

The steady pace Jungkook kept had you coming undone quickly, turning your face into the duvet cover to muffle your noises. Jungkook stared in awe at how beautiful you looked underneath him. Your skin had begun to glisten with sweat, your hair messily covering your eyes, and your soft hands gripped his forearms for support.

Jungkook suddenly lost his pace as he came, moving to lean on top of you as he orgasmed. His head rested against your breast, both of you panting loudly in the silence of the room.

"Fuck, Y/n," Jungkook whispered between breaths.

"What's wrong?" you asked, wondering if you had done something.

"Nothing, baby, you are just amazing. Your head is just... wow."

You chuckled slightly, both lying in a tangled mess, silently enjoying one another's company.

Wednesday.

Jungkook had decided that he had to join you in the shower. No matter how much you protested or insisted you shower separately, he was adamant that you be together.

At this point, you had both grown comfortable around being naked in front of one another, often sleeping together nude, with him spooning you. So you were both unbothered if one of you suddenly wandered around the house naked.

That was precisely what you were doing, trying to locate a towel. You covered your chest with your hands and wandered around the apartment.

"Kook!" you yelled, frustrated.

Jungkook was by your side in seconds, completely ignoring the fact that you were naked. He let his hands rest on your upper arms, looking at you with concern.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asked softly.

"Baby?" you asked. "You only call me baby when we're fucking."

Jungkook stammered over his words, heat rising in his cheeks in embarrassment. He awkwardly removed his hands from you, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Force of habit?" he replied, though it sounded more like a question.

"It's fine, Kook. I kind of like it, actually," you teased, gently tapping him on the nose with your finger. "The real issue is, I can't find a fucking towel."

Jungkook's eyes finally wandered over your body, subconsciously licking his lips and suppressing a smirk. You huffed, glaring at him and his lack of help.

"I'll go get us some. Just get in the shower, and I'll join you shortly."

"Okay."

You left the living room and wandered into the bathroom. You had turned on the shower earlier to let it heat up when you had noticed the missing towels. You moved your hand under the running water, humming in satisfaction at the perfect temperature.

You stepped in, sighing at the water hitting your skin. Turning to face the showerhead, you ensured the water soaked your body entirely. The feeling of the water hitting against your breasts made you shiver.

You let your hands roam your body, breath hitching when your fingers lightly brushed your sensitive bud. You continued the ministrations, a quiet moan emitting from you as you did.

Leaning forward, your head rested against the shower glass, eyes closed, drowning in the pleasure. Your other hand traced down your body and between your legs. Gathering some of your wetness on your fingers, you moved up to your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves gently.

Being so enveloped in your pleasure, you hadn't realised Jungkook had walked in. He stood silently, listening to your melodic moans. The shower glass had steamed up, but he could clearly see your silhouette. His mouth fell open when he watched you turn around to slide down the wall.

Not sparing a second thought, he quietly removed his clothes, discarding them in the laundry basket. He grabbed hold of his cock, pumping himself a few times as he watched you.

"Fuck, Kook-" you muttered absentmindedly, catching him off guard.

You were unaware he was outside the shower door, but your mind wandered to him as you played with yourself, wishing he were making you feel this good.

Your fingers now dipped inside you, while your thumb continued you rub your clit in circular motions. Back now arched, you let out a breathy moan, it echoing throughout the bathroom.

A string of quiet moans left you as your orgasm approached. Jungkook continued to jerk himself off, his tip now leaking with pre-cum. Your body jolted as your orgasm washed over you, the feeling causing your legs to shake in pleasure.

The sound of the shower door opening startled you, and you instinctively pulled your shaky legs up to your chest to cover yourself. Jungkook stepped into the shower, looking at you hungrily.

"Kook-" you began.

Jungkook cut you off, kneeling down to your level and pulling you into a heated kiss. You melted into him, expecting him to slip his tongue into your mouth. But he didn't. He continued to kiss you, passion burning inside both of you.

"Stand up," he breathed when he pulled away.

Jungkook helped you up, so you stood in front of him. The water was hitting against his back, little sprays of water dampening his hair. His hand snaked under your left leg, pulling it up. Naturally, you wrapped it around his waist, fully feeling his length against your heat.

Your head fell against his shoulder at the feeling, your desire for him increasing. He removed his hand from your leg, taking hold of his cock and angling it in front of your entrance.

"Please, want you so bad," you pleaded, kissing softly against his skin.

You bit down on him as he pushed into you, the feeling of him inside you, being too good. His head fell back in bliss, having you around him seemed to get better everytime he fucked you.

Now in you entirely, he slowly thrusted, the position slightly restricting his movements. But that didn't matter to you. Jungkook simply being inside you was all you needed.

On the other hand, Jungkook was growing frustrated with the lack of movement. He cursed under his breath, moving your arms around his neck. You were confused, but still complied.

He wasted no time hooking his hands under your thighs and lifting you up with ease. You slid up and down on his cock as he moved, trying to suppress your mewls. He wrapped your other leg around his waist and moved so your back was pressed against the wall.

"Such a good girl, baby. Thinking about me while you touch yourself. That's exactly how it should be. Only me that you think about," Jungkook grunted, beginning to thrust into you.

Your cheeks flushed at his words. He had heard you call out his name when you touched yourself. He chuckled at your expression.

"Don't be embarrassed, baby, it just means I got my message across yesterday," he panted.

You tightened your grip around his neck, pulling your body flush with his. Jungkook took that opportunity to step away from the wall and bend his legs slightly, reducing the weight on your arms and legs.

Grabbing your waist, he slid you up and down on his cock, the lewd sound of smacking reverberating throughout the room. You let out cries of pleasure at how deep he was hitting inside of you, brushing against your sweet spot with every thrust.

"Such a-" he grunted as he pulled you back onto him, "good fucking girl."

"Fuck, Kook. I'm close," you whimpered, your second orgasm pooling in your stomach. "Please make me come. Wanna come on your cock."

Jungkook's thrusts - somehow - become rougher, pounding into you with such strength that you milk his length within a few thrusts. Your nails dug into his back as you came, making him hiss. Jungkook's hands wrapped under your thighs again, and he gently pulled out, whining at the emptiness.

"I'm not done with you yet, baby," he grinned. "Think you can handle more?"

"God, yes, please."

Jungkook manoeuvred you, pressing you up against the glass, your breasts flattening. He gently moved your legs apart and pushed himself back into you. You whined, slightly sensitive from your previous orgasms.

"You've had your fun. Now I'm going to fuck you until I come. And I don't care how many time you come on my cock for me to do that," Jungkook spoke, voice low.

"Yes, please, use me as you please."

Jungkook thrusted into you, his speed and rhythm having you come undone almost immediately, the sensitivity from before returning. Your hands were flat against the glass, the condensation of the shower disappearing under your touch.

"Feel, so fucking good. Like your pussy was made for me," Jungkook growled, not showing any sign of slowing his thrusts.

"Only yours, Koo," you cried out, feeling another orgasm wash over you.

It wasn't until your fifth orgasm that Jungkook began to lose his pace, the constant feeling of your walls tightening around him bringing him close.

"Come with me, baby," Jungkook panted, his hand moving between your legs to gently pinch and rub your sensitive clit.

Your hips bucked at the sensitivity, and you pushed back into him suddenly. You screamed his name as you came one final time, body shaking violently at the pleasure and overstimulation. With one final thrust, Jungkook came, grabbing your hips to keep you still.

He leaned over your back, pulling out of you entirely. You whimpered, and your legs gave out from underneath you. Jungkook quickly caught you, wrapping his arms around your waist protectively as you both sank onto the floor.

"I've got you," he soothed. "I've got you."

You panted, feeling yourself throb between your legs. Your legs were closed tight, and Jungkook watched, growing slightly worried as your body continued to tremble.

"Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked, voice laced with concern.

You chuckled weakly.

"No, baby. You didn't," you exhaled. "Just really-" you twitched, "really sensitive."

Jungkook smiled at your words, rocking you back and forward slightly, which surprisingly put you at ease.

"Take as long as you need, baby. And when you're ready, we can shower properly."

"At this rate, with how long we've been here, we won't have any hot water left," you joked, making Jungkook laugh.

Thursday.

One thing you had discovered about Jungkook was that he was loaded. You were astonished to learn that he had his own home gym. There was no doubt that he worked out. You could hardly stop yourself from staring at how he filled out his t-shirts, or how his veins were visible when lifting something heavy.

You only found out about his home gym when Jungkook, in gym attire, made his way in the opposite direction of the front door.

"Is the front door not that way?" you asked, pointing behind you.

"Yes?" Jungkook replied, confused. "Why are you asking?"

"Didn't you say you were going to the gym?"

"I did, and I am. I have a home gym."

You were shocked initially. He led you down the hallway to the door at the end and opened it. You were surprised at how spacious it was, with mirrors and gym equipment neatly arranged, looking like a public gym.

"Fucking hell, are you secretly a billionaire or something?" you asked in disbelief.

"My dad's a CEO," he explained. "If you ever want to use the equipment, you can."

"I wouldn't know where to begin," you replied, sheepishly.

Jungkook held his hand out to you, which you gladly took, and pulled you further into the room. You reached the other end of the room where the weight racks stood. Next to them was a pull-up bar, which Jungkook stood under.

"Come here," he instructed.

He placed his hands around your waist and gently pulled you in front of him, back against his chest. He let out a little giggle as he stepped back a little bit, bringing you with him so you were directly underneath the bar.

"I'm gonna lift you, okay, baby? And I want you to grab hold of the bar," Jungkook explained.

He bent down slight, wrapping his arms around your thighs, face pressed against you ass. You blushed at his position and the fact that he expected you to suddenly be able to do a pull-up.

"Kookie, I don't know if I can even do a pull-up," you mumbled shyly.

Jungkook's heart melted at the nickname, and how cute you were when you were shy. He gave you a reassuring squeeze before lifting you up. You quickly grabbed the bar, allowing him to let you go.

"Jesus," you cursed, feeling gravity wanting to pull you down to the ground.

Jungkook moved in front of you and wrapped his hands around your ankles. You stared at him, struggling to maintain your grip on the bar.

"It's alright, baby, I've got you," he smiled. "I'll be right here to help. And if you need to let go, just say."

Jungkook assisted you in doing five pull-ups. Assisting as in he held most of your weight as you pulled yourself up. You giggled at how easy it was, knowing Jungkook was doing all the work. He let you go, and you dropped back down onto the floor.

"See, you're a natural," he teased.

You laughed, placing your hand on his arm. Jungkook's face flushed as you leaned against him, heart racing at your closeness.

"Do you want to help me work out now? Since I was so nice in helping you?" Jungkook suggested with a grin.

"Sure!" you beamed, excited to see his routine.

It was the worst decision you had ever made. Not because Jungkook made you do anything complicated. But because you couldn't stop staring.

Jungkook had discarded his shirt the moment his workout session started. He would constantly ask you for resistance bands or lighter weights. You would hum in response, staying exactly where you were, just... staring. Jungkook chuckled.

"Baby."

"Yeah?" you asked, thoughtlessly.

He exhaled, stood up, and walked over to you. You swallowed thickly, staring at his chest directly in front of you. Sweat glistened against his skin, slowly running down the grooves of his muscles. Your breathing picked up, your underwear beginning to dampen as inappropriate thoughts clouded your mind. Jungkook forced you to look up at him by placing his forefinger under your chin and tilting your head upwards.

"If you want me, you need only ask," he teased, mischief dancing in his eyes.

You flushed at his words, averting your gaze, though it was hard when every wall in the room was covered in mirrors. It was Jungkook, shirtless, in all his glory, everywhere you looked.

"Get down on one of the mats in front of the mirrors," Jungkook demanded, voice low.

You shuddered at his voice, but obeyed, shuffling over to one of the mats and sitting cross-legged facing the mirror. Jungkook watched you, biting his lip at how your hips swayed in your joggers. He quickly followed after you, kneeling down behind you.

Jungkook's gaze was intense as he watched you in the mirror. He lowered himself to your neck, still watching and attached his lips to your skin. He smirked as he kissed your neck, your head falling back onto his shoulder.

"Kook," you moaned, moving your hand to tangle in his hair.

"Gonna fuck you in front of the mirror, show you how fucking beautiful you are getting wrecked by me."

Your stomach flipped at his words, his dirty talk turning you on more than you already were. His kisses continued, slowly travelling down to your shoulder. You jolted when he found your sweet spot, your grip in his hair tightening.

Jungkook took the opportunity to suck and bite at your sensitive spot, only pulling away when he was satisfied with his work. You raised your head, looking at your reflection in the mirror. Jungkook stared at you, eyes dark and waiting for your reaction.

You gently touched the now bruised skin on your shoulder, tracing the outline. Jungkook's hand snaked up your arm, interlocking his fingers with yours. Planting a quick kiss against your jaw, he gently pushed you forward, your ass now pressed up against his crotch.

You involuntarily moaned when you could feel his bulge poking against you, excitement building up in your core. Subconsciously, you arched your back, pushing further into him. The action had him groan, holding your hips steady as he slowly grinded into you.

"Patience, baby," he chuckled, kneading your hips gently.

You whined, burying your face into the mat in frustration. Jungkook leaned forward slightly, tracing his fingers along your stomach teasingly.

"Kook, please don't tease," you whispered. "Want you so bad."

Jungkook's hand travelled further down, moving underneath your cargo trousers and underwear. His middle finger slid between your folds, gathering some of your slick.

"So wet for me, and I've barely touched you," Jungkook teased.

He moved back up to your clit, grazing it lightly, making you jolt at his touch. He laughed through his nose at your sensitivity, gently stimulating your bundle of nerves.

"So good for me," he breathed, kneading the flesh of your butt in his other hand.

He gently smacked your ass, the added action having lewd nosies fall from your lips. His pace slowly increased, but was still gentle, watching you in the mirror as you cried, fingers trying to grab the mat for support.

"You gonna come for me, baby?" he encouraged "Gonna be a good girl and come on my fingers?"

"Yes, Koo, wanna come for you," you moaned, feeling your high approaching.

"Come for me."

As if on command, you reached your orgasm, jolting away from him when the sensitivity became too much. Body twitching, you fell forward, lying flat on your stomach. The knot you felt slowly dispersed as your body began to relax.

Jungkook didn't wait for you, moving to pull down your trousers and underwear, revealing your glistening heat. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against him. He had discarded his trousers and boxers as you were attempting to recover, his cock sliding between your wet folds.

The feeling of his tip brushing against your clit had your whining at the sensitivity. Jungkook grinned, moving forward slightly, watching your reflection in the mirror.

He ran his hand underneath your baggy top, massaging your breasts over your bra, another added sensation making you moan. You had began to move along his cock, without realising, the sudden movement making Jungkook grunt and gently bite down on your shoulder.

He moved his free hand to his cock, guiding his tip to your entrance and slowly pushed in. It was a feeling you wished you could experience every second of the day. The stretching of your walls had your eyes rolling to the back of your head in ecstasy.

"Look at yourself, baby. See how beautiful you look coming undone because of me," Jungkook whispered, nipping at your earlobe.

He gently moved your face to look at yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks flushed at your reflections, watching as his cock slid in and out of you with ease. The way your chest rose and fell with his movements, how the hand massaging your breast had moved past your bra and was now teasing your nipple.

"Kook," you whined in bliss.

Your eyes fell on him, and his gaze was dark, staring at you with lust-filled eyes. Your breath hitched, the combination of his gaze and how good he was making you feel forced you to look away, suddenly shy at how exposed you felt.

"No," Jungkook breathed. "Look at yourself."

Obeying his command, you looked back, watching Jungkook thrust into you. You felt so dirty watching, but you couldn't take your eyes off the way he thrusted into you. Jungkook smirked, noticing where your gaze was.

"You like watching me fuck you, baby?" he panted. "Well, how about I give you a better angle?"

In a moment, you were in a new position. Jungkook lay on the floor, you sitting above him, still facing the mirror. Your cheeks burned at how exposed you suddenly felt.

Jungkook bent his knees slightly, instructing you to place your feet on his thighs. He wasted no time sliding back into you, fucking you with ease. The new position had him going deeper with every thrust, his hands on your waist to keep you steady while yours were flat on the floor.

"Better baby?" Jungkook asked. "Get to see me fucking you properly, like the good girl you are."

You mewled, the sight before you having that familiar feeling bubbling inside you. Your walls clenched around him, slightly, and Jungkook knew you were close. With his orgasm closing in as well, he pushed into you with more force, the feeling almost winding you.

"Come with me, baby. I know you're close," Jungkook encouraged as he reached his limit.

He continued to thrust, ignoring the oversensitivity he was feeling, to help you reach your high. You cried out his name as your orgasm washed over you, and he immediately stopped, too sensitive to continue thrusting.

You sat down on him entirely, his cock sliding back into you, making you both hiss at how delicate you both felt. Leaning forward, you panted, body slightly spasming from the bliss you were in.

"You okay, baby?" he asked soothingly, rubbing his hand up and down your side comfortingly.

"Yes, Kook," you replied. "I just didn't think, watching us fucking in a mirror would be so... hot."

Jungkook chuckled, grabbing a discarded towel and holding it underneath you. You pulled off of him, the towel catching most of your mixed orgasms. Jungkook loved to watch his come drip out of you. It was as if he had claimed you entirely. You, and you alone, were his. No one else could have you.

"I think we need a shower," you said softly, holding the towel between your legs. I don't want to ruin your mats."

Jungkook stood up, scooping you in his arms and walked out of the gym. He brought you into the bathroom, sat you on the toilet seat, and then turned the shower on.

"Well, my workout didn't go exactly as planned," he confessed. "But I do love a bit of cardio."

You both laughed, gently taking hold of his hand, waiting for the shower to heat up.

Friday.

You hadn't even left the bedroom when Jungkook started following you, wanting to be between your legs. You informed him that Jimin had texted you about a party happening the following day at Namjoon's. Needless to say, Jungkook didn't like Jimin's name in your mouth.

"You always sound so beautiful," he hummed, the vibration of his voice sending thrills through you.

You were sitting on the stairs, originally on your way to brush your teeth, when Jungkook had suddenly spun you around and forced you to sit.

Your protests were cut short when he was already nestled between your legs, shoving your underwear to the side and diving in like he hadn't drunk anything for weeks.

"Kook."

"Yes, baby?" he asked, he asked between kisses.

His lips wrapped around your clit, letting his tongue brush over it. You sighed, body melting into his touch. You felt him smirk against your skin. He flattened his tongue against you, his touch making you shiver.

He continued to lick and suck, sometimes pushing his tongue past your folds, your back arching in pleasure. Jungkook pulled away suddenly, making you pout at the loss of contact.

"Koo~" you whined.

"Can't you mess up the floorboards, can we?" Jungkook teased.

You scoffed, feigning offence. His smile faltered as you stood and walked up the stairs. It returned quickly, however, when you looked over your shoulder, eyeing him seductively.

"You coming or not?"

Jungkook ran up the stairs, two steps at a time and scooped you into his arms when you were both at the top. Both of you laughed as he spun you around. He stopped briefly, still holding you in his arms as you laughed.

He couldn't help but stare at you, smiling softly. Your slightly tousled hair from being spun around, and you leaning into him, had his heart fluttering.

"Are you okay?" you asked quietly when you noticed his dazed expression.

"Huh? Oh yes," Jungkook responded, quickly putting you down.

You stumbled slightly when your feet touched the floor, quickly grabbing Jungkook's forearm for stability. He instinctively wrapped his arm around your waist.

You pulled away from you, grabbing the hem of his t-shirt, beckoning him with your other hand. Desire clouded Jungkook's eyes, a grin sliding onto his face. He caught up to you quickly, tugging your hand off his t-shirt and facing you away from him.

Jungkook guided you forward until you were pressed against the glass window at the end of the hallway. His hands roamed your body, grabbing and groping whatever he could.

"Since I couldn't finish what I started on the stairs. Let me do that here," he offered, voice thick with lust.

You nodded, pushing your ass against his crotch making him groan. He moved quickly, pulling your underwear down to your mid-thigh. Removing himself of his clothes he let his cock sit against your ass, grinding against you slightly.

"Kook," you moaned, growing impatient.

Jungkook only chuckled, teasing your soaked entrance with the tip of his cock. He gently pushed in, but pulled out when he was only halfway in. You huffed, jerking back so when he next pushed in, he was all the way inside you.

"F-uck, Y/n!" Jungkook gasped.

"If you're not going to do it I will," you fired back, cocky grin evident.

You moved at a steady pace, the feeling of you moving instead of him had Jungkook in a state of euphoria. He gripped your waist tightly, but didn't take over. He just threw his head back at the pleasure you were giving him.

"Am I taking you well, baby?" you asked teasingly, slightly mocking him for all the times he praised you.

"Jesus, yeah. Taking me so fucking well," Jungkook replied.

He looked down, watching as your ass bounced up and down on him, the recoil alone having him moan in pleasure. He couldn't help but watch as you moved, moans falling from your lips as you rode him.

"You-" he panted, "you keep this up, I'll come."

You abruptly stopped, making him pout. You slowly pulled him out of you and turned to look at him. Your eyes were innocent, but your smirk said otherwise.

"Then I guess we'll have to leave this for later?" you taunted.

You ran your hands slowly up his chest and around the nape of his neck, the feeling making him shiver in delight. Pulling him down, you interlocked your lips into a passionate and heated kiss. Your tongue traced along his bottom lip, and you nibbled at it gently, making him moan. You pulled away, smiling at him sweetly.

"Now I really need to brush my teeth," you finished, walking away.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Jungkook had tried to have his way with you multiple times that day, but you'd stop him every time he began to get a bit too handsy. It didn't help that you had decided to wear a black lace lingerie body suit around the house. And black was a colour he most particularly enjoyed seeing on you.

Jungkook sat at the dining table in the early evening, scrolling thoughtlessly through his phone. You had walked into the room, then entered the kitchen. Jungkook had to do a double-take when he saw you.

You still wore the same bodysuit you had all day, except this time, the crotch was missing from the one piece, leaving your heat on full display for him to see. Another thing that didn't help was that you were now wearing thigh-high boots, perfectly squishing your thighs.

"You want something for dinner?" you asked nonchalantly.

Jungkook didn't answer, instead watching as you bent over, looking in one of the cabinets for a wok. His tongue darted across his lower lip, fighting the urge to take you right there.

"Kook?"

A reply didn't come. Instead, Jungkook's arms snaked around your waist and pulled you away from the kitchen counter. He wasted no time sitting you up on the dining table, mildly surprising you.

"I only want you. Only need you," Jungkook breathed, his words profoundly affecting you.

Jungkook spread your legs, and dove in, flattening his tongue against your clit. Mewls escaped you as he lapped at your juices, not seeming to get enough of you.

He had barely started before he was pulled away, pulling you off the table. In no time, you were bent over, legs spread wide apart, and he had pushed into you.

"Fuck- Jungkook," you cried out.

"You think it's funny, teasing me like this? Huh?" Jungkook growled, thrusting into you with such power that it left you breathless. "Looking so fucking hot, I can barely control myself."

His hands tightened around your waist, tighter than usual, and it was almost uncomfortable. You moaned with every thrust, each time he reentered you, it was deeper, harder, faster.

"Come on, baby. You were so mouthy earlier, where's all that confidence gone?" he taunted.

You frowned at his words, knowing he was challenging you. Placing both hands on the table, you pushed yourself up slightly and moved back into him when he pushed forward into you. He grunted, clearly feeling that you were working against him.

"I don't need to be mouthy to be confident," you snapped back.

His movements slowly ceased as yours increased. The feeling of you moving on him was pure bliss, something that Jungkook didn't know could feel as good as this. He gently slapped your ass a few times, the sound echoing quietly in the room.

"Come for me, baby," you instructed. "You wanted to come in me so badly earlier, go on."

As if on command, Jungkook orgasmed, grabbing your hips to slow your movements as he did. He leaned forward, his chest pressed against your back. Slowly pulling out of you, Jungkook straightened and went to the kitchen to grab you a tea towel.

"Did you come too?" he asked.

"Not this time," you responded casually.

You noticed Jungkook pout, moving over and hugging you from behind.

"I guess I'll need to fix that."

"Kook, you just fucked me," you laughed.

"Yeah, but I can't have you not feeling good," he said, tracing his hand over your upper arm. "Besides, you always seem to enjoy my tongue."

You rolled your eyes, but smiled at his words.

"No."

You turned, walking away into the bathroom to go clean up.

"Oh, come on, please!" Jungkook whined as he followed behind you.

Saturday.

"Are you almost done?! I really need to pee," Jungkook pleaded, banging on the bathroom door.

"Almost!" you called back.

Jungkook had decided that trying to have sex at every given opportunity this morning was a good idea. Now you were rushing your make-up and were already an hour late for the party. Finishing up the last little bits of your eyeliner, you spun around and unlocked the door.

"Oh my god, move!" Jungkook squeaked, already unzipping his jeans before he was even at the toilet.

"Calm down, Kook," you laughed, exiting the bathroom.

You wandered into the bedroom, admiring your appearance in the full-length mirror. You weren't overdressed, wearing a simple black dress that dropped at the mid-thigh. It hugged your figure, accentuating all your curves perfectly.

Jungkook had stepped into the room while you were putting on your heels. His eyes wandered over your body in admiration. How the dress looked on you was breathtaking. Heat began to rise in his cheeks, turning red at the inappropriate thoughts that now clouded his mind.

"You going to survive in heels all night, baby?" he asked, trying to push the images of you underneath him aside.

You jumped slightly at his voice, not having heard him enter the bedroom. You spun around, looking him in the eyes innocently.

"Probably not," you mumbled in response. "But heels are the only thing that looks good with this dress."

Jungkook chuckled and moved over to you. He knelt on the floor, taking your hand and planting soft kisses against your knuckles. The action made you blush.

"You look beautiful in anything," he complimented. "I'll pack your trainers, okay? And if your heels hurt too much, you can swap."

"Okay," you replied shyly.

"I'll also pack you a change of clothes, in case you get cold, okay? I have a feeling people will be staying over anyway, and we'll probably be amongst those people."

You nodded, and Jungkook smiled, gently slapping your thigh and standing up. You sat, slightly embarrassed at his gentle touch. It was different from usual, almost as if you were a couple.

You quickly shook the thought from your head, finding the idea of Jungkook, the well-known playboy from college, and you being in a relationship. You had to stifle your laugh to stop yourself from looking like a mad person just suddenly laughing.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

You arrived with Jungkook at the party a few hours after it had started, and surprisingly, the place wasn't wrecked. Upon entering, you immediately tripped over someone's foot, barely catching yourself.

"Here, follow me," Jungkook whispered in your ear.

He slid his hand into yours, something that Jungkook was one hundred per cent against when it came to having a situationship with someone. No public affection. The action took you by surprise, but you followed behind slowly.

Jungkook could feel when you were falling behind, stopping every now and then to wait for you to catch up. You greeted people as you walked past, finally entering the kitchen where you and Jungkook's friends sat.

"Guys! You finally made it!" Taehyung stood up from his chair to hug his friend.

Jungkook's hand slipped from yours, something that left you feeling empty. You wanted nothing more than to reach out and grab his shirt for comfort. But you refrained.

"Too much fucking I'd say," Yoongi teased, eyeing you knowingly.

You flushed at his words, stuttering, trying to explain yourself. Jungkook stood, watching you grow more embarrassed as you stammered.

"Cards, anyone?" Jungkook suggested, pulling the attention away from you.

The boys nodded eagerly, waiting for the two of you to sit. Noticing you weren't moving, Jungkook slid his hand back into yours, that warm feeling returning, and guided you to sit beside him.

Jimin watched, grinning at your flushed expression. He glanced at Jungkook, and Jungkook was already looking back at him, a glare evident. Jimin tilted his head tauntingly, eyebrows raised.

You winced as Jungkook's grip tightened subconsciously. Your sudden noise worried the boy, who looked at your hands and noticed his hand wrapping tightly around yours.

"Fuck, sorry baby," he mumbled, kissing your hand gently.

The action had everyone at the table staring, Hoseok absentmindedly shuffling the cards as he watched. Your heart raced, giving Jungkook's hand a reassuring squeeze as if to say it was okay.

Jungkook's heart ached when you winced. He didn't mean to hurt you, but his friend was testing his patience. Jungkook didn't let go of your hand, holding it and lovingly tracing his thumb across your skin.

"You dealing or what?" Jungkook asked, looking amongst his friends.

"I-uh, yeah," Hoseok stuttered, quickly dealing out the cards.

"I'll just watch," you claimed, pushing the card back to Hoseok.

He shrugged, putting the card at the bottom of the deck and moving on to Jungkook.

"You scared you'll lose again?" he teased, leaning in closer to you.

You only hummed in response, slightly nudging him and smiling. He chuckled, and you both looked at his cards eagerly.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

As the night passed, the group slowly got more drunk, and you were practically hanging off Jungkook's arm, still not letting go of each other's hands. You were giggling, clearly tipsy, and whispering in Jungkook's ear as he continued to play.

"Whoa, there," Jungkook spoke, discarding his cards and catching you as you slid off the stool.

"I wanna dance," you slurred, tugging his hand.

Before Jungkook could even answer, a voice sounded from behind him.

"I'll dance with you."

You beamed, sliding your hand out of Jungkook's and into Jimin's. You guided him onto the dance floor, leaving Jungkook, who had clenched his fists.

"So I assume you and Kook are together now?" Jimin asked, taking your hands in his, as you danced.

"Oh, no," you replied casually, taking Jimin by surprise. "I don't think he'll ever see me as something more than a fuck buddy now."

"Please tell me you're joking, Y/n. Look at Jungkook right now. He wants to tear off my fucking head cos we're dancing."

Looking over Jimin's shoulder, you could see Jungkook's dark gaze, eyes filled with hatred. You gulped, only realising how jealous he had become of you and Jimin.

"Then maybe we should stop," you suggested.

"Believe it or not, I agree. Jungkook has become rather... protective of you. The only reason he hasn't killed me yet is because I'm his best friend."

You laughed, slapping him slightly on the chest. Jimin chuckled, stepping away from you, and pulling out the wackiest, most embarrassing dance moves he could. You howled in laughter, the sound reaching Jungkook's ears.

His eyes softened, watching as you bent over, your hands on your thighs, trying to stop your laughter. He realised just how close you and Jimin were as friends there, and it put him at ease. Jungkook had grown worried that Jimin had also developed feelings for you, and the dreaded feeling of him having to choose between you and his best friend made his heart ache.

You continued to laugh, tears welling at how funny you found the situation. Suddenly, you jerked forward, shock plastered over your face. Jimin had stopped, too, now glaring at someone behind you. Quickly, you straightened and turned to see a man behind you grinning. He had smacked you ass.

"Don't fucking touch me," you snarled.

"Maybe don't dress like you're asking for it," the man laughed.

You didn't waste a moment to raise your hand and slap him across the cheek. The whole room went silent at the loud slap.

"You fucking bitch!" the man yelled, making a move to grab you.

It happened so fast. Jimin had pulled you behind him, shielding you from the man. But what shocked you the most was that Jungkook had sprinted towards the man and had thrown himself at him, handing a powerful punch straight to his jaw.

The man stumbled back, holding his jaw as he cried out in pain. Jungkook didn't wait, landing another punch to the man's gut. He toppled over, allowing Jungkook to climb on top of him and land blow after blow.

You panicked, pushing Jimin aside and making a grab for Jungkook. He shrugged you off, continuing his brutal assault on the man.

"Jungkook!" you screamed.

Finally, he stopped, looking back at you with anger-filled eyes. Though they second, they fell on you, they softened. He stood, shaking, then left without uttering a word.

"I'll call an ambulance, go get Kook," Jimin instructed.

You didn't hesitate, running as fast as you could in your heels, after Jungkook. You ran out the door, looking everywhere to see where he might be.

"Jungkook!" you called, taking a few more steps to get a better look.

You had noticed him walking ahead of you, towards a park bench. You continued to call out to him, attempting to run across the road. On the third call of his name, Jungkook sighed, turning around to look at you.

"What?" he asked bluntly, his tone taking you aback.

"Kook," you breathed. "Are you alright?"

You glanced down at his hand, noticed his knuckles were bloody and beginning to bruise. He pulled away when you went to hold his hand, making you flinch.

"Just fuck off, Y/n."

"Excuse me?" you asked, tone dropping. "Don't talk to me like that."

Jungkook ignored you, turning around to leave when you stopped him. You moved to step in front of him, and he glared at you.

"Move."

"No," you challenged. "Why are you so fucking angry!"

"It doesn't concern you," Jungkook spat.

"I think it does, considering you just beat someone up!"

"He touched your ass! What the fuck was I supposed to do!" he yelled, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration.

"Maybe not beat someone half to death!" you yelled back.

"Right, next time I'll just sit by and watch it happen," he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"You know that's not what I mean! You've been angry since Jimin and I went to the dance floor! Why?"

You already knew why. Jimin showing you just how jealous Jungkook was, confirmed wishes.

"I've told you it doesn't concern you," Jungkook snapped, tone laced with venom.

You had went off on a tangent, yelling and poking his chest as you continued to dig into him. His patience was growing thin, his emotions were getting the better of him, and he was struggling to hold back.

"Shut up," he whispered, but it was not loud enough to hear over your scolding.

He repeated it until the last of his patience disappeared.

"Shut up!"

You fell silent, shocked by his sudden outburst. Your chests were heaving in anger as you stared at one another, waiting for the other to back down.

"You don't understand," you mumbled to Jungkook.

Your soft tone caught him off guard, and his breathing eased with your words.

"Do you know how hard watching you flirt with all those girls was? Kissing them at parties, fucking hell even fingering them in front of everyone. It made my blood boil," you sighed, averting your gaze.

Jungkook remained silent, waiting for you to continue.

"I wanted nothing more than to be one of those girls. To kiss you, touch you, feel you. When we made the bet last weekend, I had hoped to lose, just to know what it felt like."

"I-"

"But I see now that it was clearly a mistake. Because throughout this week, I've completely fallen in love with you. It was always in the back of my mind, but being with you brought it to light," you replied, sobs escaping your lips.

Jungkook stood, watching you tremble as your emotions spilt out of you. He was in shock, not realising that you had been hiding this for as long as he had. Jungkook gently caressed your cheek, the feeling making you flinch. You looked up at him, eyes glassy.

"It was never a mistake," he breathed.

He leaned in, planting a gentle kiss upon your lips. You melted into him, your hands snaking around the back of his neck as you pulled him deeper into you. Jungkook pulled away quickly, leaving you feeling empty.

"I love you, Y/n. Since we first met, I've been so unbelievably in love with you that I only wanted your attention. I made that bet, hoping you would lose, so I could show you just how amazing you are, how beautiful and perfect you are to me."

"Kook," you sighed.

You pulled him back down, kissing him. It was soft, gentle, but soon became rough. Jungkook's hands snaked around your waist and pulled you in as close as possible. You moaned against his lips, giving him enough time to slide his tongue into your mouth.

Passion burned between you both as you began to grab at one another, wanting to undress the other. You pulled away suddenly, panting.

"Maybe we should find somewhere a little less... open," you suggested.

Jungkook looked around, trying to find somewhere to take you. Gently, he tugged you behind him, pulling you in front of a wall, hidden by bushes and trees.

"Better?" he asked.

You nodded. With the confirmation, Jungkook dropped to his knees, pushing your dress over your hips. He groaned as he placed his hands over your smooth skin, tracing small circles as they glided up to your underwear.

"Please, Kook. Want you so bad," you breathed. "No teasing this time. Please."

"Anything for you, baby," Jungkook replied.

Just as Jungkook went to pull down his trousers, a sound could be heard in the distance, making you both freeze.

"Y/n! Jungkook! Where are you guys? Everyone's gone home now, so you can stay the night if you want," Hoseok's voice rang.

"For fuck sake, we can't catch a break," Jungkook chuckled, making you giggle.

"We can continue this tomorrow, Kook. We probably need the sleep anyway," you explained, tugging your dress back down. "And besides, I could use a day off from being fucked raw for the past five days."

Jungkook pouted, but followed behind, fingers interlaced with yours.

Sunday.

You both had left early the next day, thanking Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi for letting you stay.

"Whoa, hold up there," Namjoon called.

You both turned around, looking at your friends. The entire group had stayed the night and were now watching you both intently.

"Is there something you want to tell us?" Taehyung asked, tapping his foot impatiently.

"We didn't have sex in the bed if that's what you guys are worried about," you spoke, waving them off casually.

"That's not what we're on about," Seokjin replied. "And it's not about Jungkook beating up that guy last night either, or his very obvious jealousy of you and Jimin's friendship."

Both you and Jungkook turned red at Seokjin's words. The group laughed.

"Please just tell us you're finally together," Jimin pleaded, resting against the countertop.

"Well, what do you think?" Jungkook grinned as he held up your interlocked hands.

The group cheered, jumping up and down excitedly and hugging one another.

"About fucking time," Yoongi laughed. "God, we were beginning to think you'd both be dead before you got together."

"Yeah watching you both get jealous was really beginning to piss me off," Namjoon spoke, grinning.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. We're together now, that's all that matters," Jungkook laughed.

"We are?" you asked.

The group and Jungkook looked at you in shock, but you smiled, indicating you were joking. Jungkook scowled at you playfully, lifted you over his shoulder, and walked out the door.

"Hey!" you called, laughing. "Bye guys! See you next time!"

You watched your friends waving goodbye, some punching the air in victory, while others fist-bumped and hugged.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

As soon as you both entered Jungkook's apartment, you slumped onto the couch in the living room, sighing in relief at being home. You looked to your right, staring lovingly at Jungkook. His eyes were closed, and his hair fell slightly over his eyebrows.

His chest rose and fell slowly, tiredness falling over him. You hummed, moving over and snuggling into his side. Feeling you move, he automatically wrapped his arm around you.

"Hi, baby," he whispered.

"Hi, Kook," you replied, relishing the moment.

You lightly traced his hand with your fingers. Jungkook lightly hummed a tune under his breath, enjoying your gentle touch.

"You know," you began, your fingers moving from his hand onto his chest. "We still need to make up for last night."

Jungkook's eyes pinged open, and you looked at you knowingly. You laughed, lightly pushing him when he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

"Well, what do you have in mind?" he asked.

You didn't say anything; instead, you decided to show him. Throwing your leg over him, you straddled his waist and slowly began to grind against him. He let out a breathy moan, and his head fell back. You tugged at his t-shirt gently, indicating you wanted it off.

Jungkook complied, quickly removing his top and discarding it on the floor. He fiddled with the buttons on your shirt, letting out a huff when he couldn't unbutton them. You laughed, taking his hands and removing them from your shirt.

You quickly pulled your shirt over your head, revealing your bare chest, making Jungkook smirk. His hands moved to your breasts, and you flinched at his cold touch but immediately melted into him when he lightly flicked your nipple.

"Kook," you breathed, arching your back and moving closer to him.

"What do you want, baby?" Jungkook asked teasingly.

"You, please. Want you, all of you," you begged.

Jungkook smiled, leaning in and attaching his lips to your bud. A gasp fell from your lips at the sudden temperature change. His warm tongue enveloped your nipple, changing the amount of pressure he applied.

His other hand was occupied with your other breast, pinching and brushing over your nipple, adding a new sensation with each movement.

"God, you are so beautiful. My perfect girl," he spoke between kisses, pulling you closer to him, as if you'd suddenly disappear.

"Only yours, Kookie," you sighed out.

Jungkook pulled away, sliding his hand to your cheek and pulling you into a soft, delicate kiss. You kissed him back, both of you smiling when you accidentally bumped noses.

You moved, standing up and pulling your trousers and underwear off. Jungkook eyed you hungrily, staring at your legs and their smooth appearance. He had realised your fingers were wrapped around the belt loops of his jeans, gently tugging, asking him to lift his backside off the couch.

"Sorry," Jungkook laughed, lifting himself off the couch. "You're just so... breathtaking."

You giggled, pulling off his jeans and boxers. His cock sat against his stomach, tall and erect. Pre-cum leaked from the tip, and the veins pulsed.

You climbed back on top of him, and angled his cock to your entrance. You looked at him, waiting for some sort of permission to continue. He nodded, slowly guiding your hips down onto him.

You would never get sick of the feeling of him pushing into you. He slid into you with such ease, it was as if he truly was made for you. Both of you softly moaned when Jungkook was all the way in, savouring the moment. You looked at him, a smile evident.

"I love you," you whispered.

Jungkook looked at you with wide eyes, not expecting those words from you at such an intimate time. Your smile faltered at his expression, and you grew shy.

"I'm sorry- I just-"

Your words were cut short when Jungkook pulled you close, planting kisses all over your face. The action made you giggle.

"Don't ever apologise for saying that, baby," Jungkook spoke between kisses. "I love you, too."

Slowly, you began to move, in circular motions that had him hitting against your sweet spot immediately. You moaned his name, keeping a steady rhythm. Jungkook's hands stayed on your hips, guiding you when you flinched from sensitivity.

"You want me to move, baby?" Jungkook asked when he felt your legs begin to shake.

"N-no," you replied. "Wanna make you feel good."

"Baby," Jungkook whispered, halting your movements. "I can't feel good if you're feeling discomfort. Let me, please."

Slowly, you nodded, slightly embarrassed. Jungkook kissed you softly and sat forward slightly. He manoeuvred your legs so they wrapped around his waist, continuing to plant small kisses against your lips, then moving to your jaw.

"Kook," you breathed, letting your head fall back as he kissed your neck.

Jungkook slowly began to thrust into you, the feeling of him pushing into you, having you both moan in unison. His rhythm stayed the same, not wanting the romantic moment to be ruined by lust.

"I love you so fucking much," you said in between breaths, your breasts bouncing lightly as Jungkook moved.

"I love you too, baby," Jungkook responded, kneading the flesh of your hips.

You hummed, feeling your high approach with each thrust. Jungkook could feel you were beginning to tighten around him, and he took the opportunity to lock his lips onto yours.

"Come with me," he begged between the kiss, struggling to keep pace.

Now moving along with him to keep the rhythm, you both came together, feeling Jungkook's seed spill into you while you milked him. You gently rocked your hips, helping you both ride out your highs. You only stopped when Jungkook gripped your waist, growing sensitive at the movements.

"That might have been the best sex we've had," Jungkook laughed breathily.

"Maybe because you weren't trying to fuck me into the counter or bed," you joked.

"Hey!" Jungkook protested, but smiled. "You love it when I do that."

"Yeah, you're right. I do," you giggled, resting your forehead against his.

There was silence, pure and peaceful, as if nothing in the world could ruin it.

"So, same time next week?"

"Oh for fuck sake Kook."

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

finally! it is done! thank you so much for taking the time to read this and I am so sorry for taking so long to upload anything! I've been focused af to get this done and posted so I hope you enjoyed!

if you enjoyed it please take a look at my other works or if you're interested in requesting an idea/or have a prompt click the links below!

masterlist | requests | request rules | prompt list

tranquilreign~

[cheriecoke]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ LOOK, MOM! — nanami kento

yuuji accidentally calls you mom

contents: nanami x fem!reader, husband nanami hehe, this is very silly and random and stupid, fluff, nanami & reader are yuuji's adoptive parents fr, words: 1059

“nanamin!” yuuji waves at the figure approaching from behind you, a flashy grin appearing on his face as he glances at the blonde man over your shoulder. “i didn’t know you were coming by today!”

kento's hair sweeps over his forehead in the wind, a few strands coming free as he heads towards you. it's a brisk day, and he has two hot coffees in his hands that he'd picked up after his mission.

a bead of sweat drips down yuuji's temple, and he wipes it with his sleeve, still breathing heavily. you'd spent the last hour training together, pushing his physical capabilities. gojo had been busy recently, between all the missions and his conversations with the higher ups.

so, of course, you'd volunteered to teach the newest student when he couldn't. quickly, he became your favorite of the three first years.

“i’m in between assignments.” kento hands you the coffee, places a gentle hand on your lower back with a smile that is hardly there. “mind if i steal my wife away for a bit?”

yuuji shrugs, his face still bright as he glances between the two of you. ever since he’d found out two of his favorite sorcerers were together, he’d hardly shut up about it.

“no problem. i’m going to meet up with fushiguro anyway.” he brushes the dirt off his pants, waving to the two of you.

“good job today, yuuji!” grateful for something to warm you up in the chilly air, you take a sip of the coffee. it’s perfect, as always, just what you needed. “you’re improving a lot!”

he grins, proud of his accomplishments. “thanks, mom! see you later!”

there's an elongated moment of silence.

you choke on your coffee as kento stiffens beside you, watching while yuuji comes to a skittering halt.

all three of you freeze. you cough, clearing your throat, and kento's hand, steady on your back, has stilled. “yuuji—“

“oh,” the teenager says, his face turning bright red as he realizes what he’s called you. he glances between the two of you, embarrassment evident. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—“

though, you don’t give yuuji enough time to protest. within seconds, you’ve gathered him up in your arms, squeezing the younger boy to your chest. “kento, we have a son!”

you feel yuuji tense, before he relaxes, and throws his arms around you in an even tighter hug. there’s some sort of thanks resting there. he laughs, carefree, a sound you never want to be taken away from the boy who manages to shine so brightly in such a dark world.

kento stares at you, folds his glasses up in his pocket, as if to show you both how unimpressed he is. “do we?” he asks, lips flat, though, you see through the facade to the amusement hidden in his irises. “i'm certain i would’ve remembered something like that.”

you make a face at him, covering yuuji’s ears dramatically. “oh, don’t listen to your dad, yuuji. he’s old, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

kento blinks, and then sighs, wrinkling his nose. though, when he sees yuuji’s wide grin, his eager expression, he decides to play along.

“well, then... there must be a lapse in my memory." kento crosses his arms over his chest as he regards the two of your extensively, searching for something. "that would certainly explain the striking resemblance between us.” he says drily.

yuuji laughs, a loud snort. he looks nothing like either of you, but you’re not sure he’s ever gotten to witness kento's sarcastic sense of humor, the one that not everyone really gets.

“exactly!” yuuji quips back to kento’s blank expression. "everyone tells me i have the same smile as my dad!

kento’s trying hard not to let yuuji win that one, but you can see the slight wrinkle around his eye, the tiny quirk of his lips. beside the pink haired boy, you choke out a few giggles, covering your mouth.

“yes," kento nods, solemn. "i’ve heard that as well.”

"so you do know how to make jokes, nanamin!" yuuji shouts, nearly jumping in the air as he cheers. "i can't wait to tell fushiguro this."

kento rolls his eyes, but yuuji’s so pleased, and he releases you, his eyes soft and bright as he pulls away.

though he doesn’t say it, doesn't thank you for anything, you can tell he’s grateful. itadori yuuji may be happy with his life as it is now, may have found a home within the friends he’s made at the high school, but you know he misses his grandfather. sometimes, perhaps, he even longs for the conventional family he never really got to have.

you ruffle his hair, the pink strands catching between the cracks of your fingers. “tell him i said hello too.”

yuuji nods, stuffing his hands in his pocket as he steps away. “i will!” his cheerful gaze is pinned on your husband, a secretive smile making a home on his lips. “bye, dad.”

kento shakes his head, and sighs again, though you can tell, a part of him is touched to have won so much of yuuji's admiration. “have a good evening, itadori.”

you watch the young boy scurry away, hands in his pockets as he braces himself against the cold.

"you should be nicer to your son, kento."

kento snorts, throwing an arm over your shoulder as he brings you closer to him. "i am nice to him," he says, kissing your temple softly. "a little hard on him, maybe, but i just don't want anything bad to happen to him."

you soften, look up at him with warm eyes, and you squeeze the hand that is resting on your shoulder. "i know," you say, your heart clenching. you've thought about it before, thought of kento with a tiny child that looks just like him, cradled against his chest. thought of him with a little girl whose hair he can braid, a little boy he can raise to be a gentleman.

but you hadn't talked about it; you'd always thought your life was too busy, too dangerous for children.

"you'd make a good dad, ken," you say, your cheeks flushed as you grin at him.

kento's eyes flash. "really?" an array of emotions scurries across his features before he leans down, kissing you softly. "is this your way of telling me you want a baby, sweetheart?" his voice deepens as he whispers against your lips, smiling. "because i'm more than happy to give you one."

[inseobts]

Busted! (Secret Relationship) 2.0

what if the two of you are in a secret relantionship and suddenly everyone start to realize something is going on?

gn!reader

characters: luffy, sabo, kid, shanks, bartolomeo

(zoro, sanji, law, koby, ace)

a/n: sorry about the barto one, I got out of ideas but needed a 5th character...

words count: around 0.8k - 1.5k each

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Luffy:

You sit at the far end of the Sunny’s deck, legs dangling over the side. The sea sparkles in the sun, and the wind plays with your hair. Luffy is across from you, lying on his back with his hat over his face.

You glance at him for the third time in one minute.

He lifts the hat just a bit “You’re staring again” he says with a grin.

“I’m not” you lie, too fast.

“You are.” Luffy sits up, stretching “Why?”

“Because you’re weird” you say, kicking the air with your feet.

Luffy laughs “That’s true! Can I kiss you?”

You smile, but quickly turn away when you hear footsteps. Sanji walks by with a tray of drinks. He looks at you, then at Luffy, then back at you. He squints.

“Something wrong with your face, Sanji?” you ask, trying to sound casual.

He frowns “No. Just… never mind. Dinner is almost ready.” He walks off.

You glance at Luffy. He’s watching you now.

“Do you think he knows?” you whisper.

Luffy shrugs “Maybe. But who cares?”

“I care! We said we’d keep this a secret, remember? You’re our captain, they will think I get favouritism or something.”

He pouts “I show favoritism to every single one of them. None of you even call me Captain… Who else in the world is a captain but isn’t even called ‘Captain’ by his own crew? Just me! And I really want to tell them.”

“We can’t” you say, standing up “Not yet. It’ll be weird. They’ll tease us forever.”

Luffy tilts his head “So?”

“So… I like it like this. Just us.”

He grins again and nods “Okay, okay. Just us. I like this too.”

But then Usopp yells from the other side of the ship, “Luffy! Why were you smiling like that? Did you eat something without me?!”

Luffy shouts back, “No! Mind your business for once!”

You giggle.

He looks at you, serious for a second “They’re gonna find out.”

“You’re a terrible liar but if we’re careful we can at least have some more time.” you say.

But even as you say it, you know its just a matter of days before Luffy will “accidentally” expose you.

“DINNER IS READY!”

Everyone is gathered around the table, plates stacked high with meat, rice, and bread. Sanji’s outdone himself again. Luffy is already three plates in, sauce all over his face and hands.

You’re chewing on a piece of pizza when a bit of sauce drips onto your chin.

Without even thinking, Luffy leans across the table with a napkin he just stole from Nami and wipes it away gently.

“Messy” he mumbles smiling at you, like it’s normal.

Everyone freezes.

Nami slowly lowers her fork. Zoro raises an eyebrow. Usopp’s mouth falls open.

Sanji blinks “What the hell was that?”

Luffy freezes like a statue, still holding the napkin mid-air.

You feel your soul leave your body.

“Are you two…” Nami starts, squinting hard, “…dating?”

Luffy sits up fast, and stay still like he’s got caught in the middle of stealing all the food.

Then he suddenly snaps “Absolutely fucking not! Why would you even think that?!”

Silence.

You blink.

Zoro tilts his head “You sure? ‘Cause that was some weird-ass behavior.”

“Yeah, dude,” Usopp adds “You never wipe anyone’s face. You don’t even wipe your own face.”

Nami who is still shocked “Did… did he just say absolutely fucking not?”

Luffy looks like a deer caught in a very obvious lie.

Your eye twitches.

You sigh, lean back in your chair, and say, “Yes… yes. We’re dating. That lie was so bad I can’t even pretend anymore.”

Nami chokes on her drink. Brook lets out a dramatic gasp. Chopper claps his hooves together.

All while you whisper “Stupid me, I even thought the worst scenario was you finding out in the next few days.”

Luffy looks at you, then back at them “Wait—so we’re telling them now?”

“No, you! You told them by being the worst liar I’ve ever seen.”

He scratches his head “Oops.”

“You literally said ‘absolutely fucking not’, not really in character from you, don't you think?”

He grins “I panicked…That made it more dramatic, right?”

Sanji stands up like he’s about to give a whole speech “When did this start? How long have you been hiding this from your family?”

You groan. Luffy laughs. Everyone starts shouting questions at once.

He leans over and nudges you with his elbow “Hey. At least it’s not a secret anymore. And they don't seem to mind it at all! You were so scared for nothing, look at them!”

You shove a piece of bread in his mouth “You owe me so many meat dinners.”

He just grins wider and keeps eating like nothing happened but with a grin that actually says everything happened.

── .✦ Sabo:

It’s quiet after dinner. The hum of HQ fades beneath the warm weight of Sabo’s arms around you. You’re curled up in his lap on the couch in his room, legs tangled, his coat draped over both of you like a blanket. He’s kissing you softly, lazily, like the world doesn’t need saving for just a few hours.

“You always smell like smoke” you whisper, nose brushing his.

Sabo chuckles, pressing another kiss to your cheek “And you smell like peace. So I guess we’re even.”

You smile, fingertips trailing the line of his jaw, just about to kiss him again when BANG. The door flies open.

Hack stands there. Eyes wide. Mouth slightly open. Absolutely regretting everything.

“…Oh...” he says flatly.

You launch upright, nearly taking the coat with you.

“WAIT—!”

But Sabo, not missing a beat, still lazily cradling your waist, says in a perfectly deadpan voice “Close the door. We’re not done yet.”

Hack’s brain visibly short-circuits.

He backs out slowly like he’s seen the gates of hell.

“Yup. Nope. Didn’t see anything. I need bleach. Where’s the bleach.”

The door clicks shut.

Silence.

You collapse against Sabo, face buried in his chest.

He just laughs, fingers drawing gentle circles on your back.

“Hack’s probably going to meditate in a cold stream after this.”

The next morning Koala kicks open your cabin door “Rise and shine, lazyass—training starts in twen—”

She stops.

Empty bed. No note. No sign of life.

Her eye twitches.

Cut to: Sabo’s room. She barges in without knocking.

“What the hell, have you seen—oh my GOD!”

You’re in Sabo’s bed. In his shirt.

He’s sleepily spooning you, arm wrapped tight around your waist, chin nestled in your hair like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Koala freezes.

You freeze.

Sabo doesn’t move a muscle. Just groans, nuzzles into you, and pulls you back down under the covers.

“…So that’s why you’re both always smiling at morning drills” Koala mutters.

You peek over Sabo’s shoulder, hair a mess, whispering “Hack didn’t lock the door.”

Koala just turns on her heel “Unbelievable. I’m calling Dragon. You two need supervised training from now on.”

You’re both trying so hard to keep it a secret even now.

Swearing up and down: No more getting caught. No more accidental cuddling in public. No more open doors. NO MORE SPOONING IN SABO'S SHIRT WHILE KOALA SCREAMS.

And yet...

After a brutal training session, you’re the last two stragglers left on the field. The sun's setting, sweat gleaming on both of you, breath still heavy from sparring.

Sabo tosses his gloves aside, runs a hand through his messy, damp hair, and looks at you like you're made of starlight and rebellion.

He steps closer.

You’re flushed, smiling, practically glowing from the adrenaline.

He reaches out, fingers brushing your cheek.

"Nobody’s here," he murmurs, a little breathless “Just one kiss.”

You’re this close. This close. Lips nearly touching—BOOM.

Ivankov struts around the corner like they owns the damn place, fanning dramatically.

“OH honey, if you’re gonna get sweaty together, at least invite me to watch!”

You and Sabo JUMP apart like you’ve been electrocuted.

Sabo coughs violently and turns beet red while you trip over your own foot trying to act like you were doing literally anything else.

Ivankov is grinning like the cat who caught the canoodling lovebirds “You two are about as subtle as a sea king in a bathtub.”

Ivankov winks and keeps walking like nothing happened.

Sabo is frozen. You’re wheezing from secondhand embarrassment.

“…We suck at this.” you mutter.

Sabo just covers his face and groans, “I’m never going to hear the end of all this.”

By now, literally everyone has caught you and Sabo in some weirdly intimate moment, except for one man, Monkey D. Dragon. And that’s how the betting pool was born.

It started with Koala dropping 50 berries on “He finds them mid-make-out in the strategy room.”

Hack went in on “One of them slips up and calls the other ‘babe’ during a mission brief.”

Even Ivankov scribbled down “Sabo gets distracted by Y/N’s ass mid-battle. Dragon walks up behind him.”

There’s a whiteboard hidden in the break room with all their bets.

In all this you and Sabo are sitting on a bench overlooking the cliffside near HQ, pretending to "review maps". The sun is golden, the breeze is soft, and Sabo’s hand is definitely resting a little too high on your thigh for this to be strictly cartographic.

Sabo chuckles, tilting his head toward the training grounds “Koala’s been pointing at us through binoculars for the last ten minutes.”

You glance over and she waves. So does Ivankov, who is literally holding a notepad that says “DRAGON CATCHES THEM: THURSDAY AT 14:37”.

You groan, burying your face in Sabo’s shoulder “This is humiliating.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to your hair “We could just tell him and so they'll stop.”

You both pause.

Then simultaneously say, “Nope.”

The next day, it’s supposed to be a standard mission call. Everyone’s focused, the mission is critical, and everything is tense.

Suddenly, in the middle of all the seriousness, something goes wrong. You’re trying to navigate a tricky situation on the field, and you have to quickly adjust your position, which means you shift out of the line of communication for a second.

Sabo watches, trying to get your attention, then blurts out, completely unintentionally “Careful, babe.”

The whole call goes silent. The Den Den Mushi crackles with static, and suddenly, everyone on the call freezes.

Dragon (deadpan, calm as ever) “...What did you just say, Sabo?”

You immediately go white and you whip around to look at Sabo with wide eyes, panic setting in. You can hear Ivankov’s voice in the background, already laughing.

You “SABO, ARE YOU DUMB?!”

Sabo turns a brilliant shade of red "I—I didn’t mean—"

Everyone on the call is absolutely losing it.

Koala, trying to hold back laughter “Oh my God. Did you—did you just call them babe?!”

Hack, in the most deadpan voice ever “I won, right? I absolutely won this bet.”

You’re trying to keep your cool, but you can’t. You can’t. You cover your face, groaning.

Dragon, ever the calm voice in the storm, but with a clear edge of irritation “Next time, keep the personal affections off the mission calls. You're lucky this wasn’t an urgent situation. We almost got compromised.”

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You glance at Sabo, who looks like he’s about to combust.

You, exasperated “Sabo, f***, you made me get scolded! This is so embarrassing!”

Sabo, still trying to apologize “I—I didn’t mean it like that! It was just a slip—”

But the damage is already done.

Dragon, his voice slightly dry “We’ll talk about this later. Focus on the mission. And next time—be more professional.”

As the call ends, the atmosphere is tense. You and Sabo are left standing there, feeling like two complete idiots.

Later that day, the break room is chaos. Hack is smugly holding up his winnings from the betting pool. Koala is still laughing, and Ivankov is offering “support” by teasing Sabo non-stop.

You, on the other hand, are doing your best to avoid eye contact with everyone as Sabo sulks in the corner.

You, barely holding it together “I hate you right now. I really do.”

Sabo “I swear, I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t mean to, but you’re still an idiot.”

Sabo rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly “…I deserve that.”

── .✦ Kid:

You don’t really think much of it the first time.

A small, clumsily wrapped package left outside your room on the Victoria Punk. The paper’s crinkled like it was balled up five times before someone gave up and tied it with rough twine.

Inside a shiny little trinket you’d mentioned wanting in passing weeks ago.

You raise a brow but say nothing. Maybe someone’s just being nice.

Then it happens again. And again.

Each gift is messy but thoughtful, like someone’s trying to be sweet. A handmade weapon accessory here. Your favorite snacks there. One day, a scrawled note reads, “Don’t let anyone else have this. It’s for you only” not signed.

The crew notices. Of course they do.

Heat starts humming “Someone’s got a secret admirer~.”

Wire goes like “Who even knew you liked that kind of thing?”

Killer, raising a brow behind his mask “...It’s weirdly specific, though. Whoever it is knows you pretty well.”

You try to play it off, but the teasing doesn’t stop. It only gets louder. More obnoxious.

Kid, arms crossed, leaning against the railing “Tch. Who cares? Buncha idiots drooling over gifts like teenagers.”

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye.

He's unbothered. Disinterested. Completely unfazed.

That night, when the ship’s quiet and everyone’s turned in, you knock on his door. He opens it in a loose tank top and sleep-rumpled hair, eyes narrowing.

“What.”

You cross your arms “Are the gifts from you?”

He blinks “What?”

“The stuff. The notes. The snacks. You’re the only one who listens that closely.”

A flicker of something passes through his expression, too fast to catch. But then his scowl deepens.

“You think I’ve got time to play secret admirer with you? Hell no.”

You stare at him, caught off guard.

“…You’re serious?”

He scoffs and turns away “Go to sleep. You’re imagining things.”

He slams the door behind him. You’re left in the hall, heart twisting a little. Because he sounded so convincing.

But if it’s not him… Then who the hell is it?

After that night with Kid, you really do try to let it go. But the crew doesn’t.

You can't walk into the mess hall without someone raising an eyebrow or tossing a comment.

Wire leans back in his chair one morning, boots on the table, biting into an apple with a grin “Hey, Y/N, no new packages today? What a tragedy. Guess your mystery lover finally ran out of ideas.”

Heat chuckles, elbowing him “Or maybe they’re just planning something bigger. Like a grand confession. What do you think, huh? Gonna be roses next time?”

You, dryly “Right. I’ll expect fireworks off the port side.”

Killer, voice calm but laced with amusement from beneath the mask “Honestly, I’m more impressed by the consistency. Whoever it is, they’re either very devoted… or very stupid.”

Kid, across the room, is pretending not to hear, arms crossed, eyes on something that doesn't exist. His jaw’s clenched so tight, you can see it from here.

You catch his eye for a second but he looks away fastly.

The next morning, nothing shows up. Then the next. And the next.

You don’t say anything about it. Neither does Kid. But something’s different in the air now, like tension caught in a bottle, just waiting to explode.

One night, you’re lying tangled up together, the hum of the ship quiet around you. He’s half asleep, heavy arm slung across your waist, his hand lazily tracing circles on your skin.

Your head is on his chest, warm and steady.

“…I haven’t gotten any new gifts lately” you mumble, mostly to yourself.

He stiffens just slightly, but doesn’t say a word.

You chew on your lip “Think they found out about us? Maybe they backed off.”

Still nothing.

You lift your head and look at him “You ever think about who it might’ve been? Kinda funny, right? Maybe someone on the crew really had a thing for me.”

Still no response.

You grin a little “What if it was Killer? You think he’s the poetic type? Am I his type?”

Before you can say another word—whump.

A pillow slams into your face, hard enough to make you roll.

“HEY!” you shout, laughing “You absolute brat!”

Kid doesn’t even look guilty.

“You’re annoying” he mutters, but there’s a faint blush rising to his ears. He turns his head, scowling at the ceiling like it insulted him personally.

You smirk, poking him in the side “Ohh, someone’s touchy…”

“I’m throwing you off the bed.”

“You’re not strong enough.”

“Wanna bet?”

Weeks pass.

Everyone moves on. The secret admirer jokes fade. Kid goes back to normal, grumpy, snarky, yours. You figure that weird little mystery chapter is just done.

Until one day, you find a new gift.

Not one of its usual ones, no haphazard twine, no angry handwriting. This one’s clean, careful. Wrapped in deep red paper with a ribbon tied perfectly.

Inside: a carved charm. Elegant. Personal.

The note says “Couldn’t help myself. Thought you’d like this.”

Your heart actually skips a beat.

You march straight to the engine bay, holding it up like evidence. Kid’s elbow-deep in mechanical guts, oil smeared on his hands.

“Hey,” you call “Now... is this from you?”

He glances up, sees the box, and freezes “What the fuck is that?”

“A gift. Someone left it for me. Just now.”

The silence is nuclear.

Then his voice explodes “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!”

He storms past you like a cannonball with legs, throwing open the engine bay doors and stomping onto the deck.

“ALRIGHT,” he bellows, voice booming across the ship, “WHOEVER THE HELL THINKS THEY CAN FLIRT WITH MY PARTNER—UGH COME SAY IT TO MY FACE!”

Everyone stops what they’re doing.

A wrench drops. Someone chokes on their food. Killer just sighs.

“YOU HEARD ME!” Kid’s pacing like a madman, hair wild, coat half falling off one shoulder “YOU THINK YOU CAN STEAL MY ONE WITH PRETTY RIBBONS?! Y/N IS MINE. MINE!”

You bury your face in your hands and whisper "Please stop, this is really embarassing."

Killer, calmly from the upper deck “Well. That answers that. We all knew the original gifts were from you, Eustass.”

Heat, grinning “Yeah, but I thought he’d last a little longer before breaking.”

Wire, yelling from the mess hall window “PAY UP! I SAID HE’D CRACK WHEN A REAL RIVAL SHOWED UP!”

You’re still standing in the middle of the storm, holding the new gift while your hot-headed boyfriend is screaming at the ocean.

You, deadpan “Great. Now the whole Grand Line knows.”

Kid, turning to you like you betrayed him “WHY WERE YOU SMILING AT IT?!

“Because I thought it was from you again!”

“WELL, IT WASN’T. AND NOW I’M GONNA MURDER WHOEVER THAT WAS.”

The deck is still vibrating from Kid’s volume. He’s stomping around like a territorial lion, red in the face and shouting murder oaths into the wind.

“COME ON! WHO WAS IT?! WHO THINKS THEY’VE GOT A CHANCE?! I’LL BREAK YOUR TEETH IN.”

You’re standing there, clutching the new gift, wondering if you’ll have to tackle him to keep the crew alive.

But then Killer steps forward, calm as ever “Kid.”

Nothing.

Killer raises his voice slightly “Kid!”

That gets through. Kid slows, turns, still wild-eyed “What?! You want me to let someone just—?!”

Killer sighs like he’s been dealing with this since the womb “That gift wasn’t from a rival. It was from us all.”

The entire crew falls silent.

You blink “Wait—what?”

Killer glances at you, then back to Kid, arms crossed “We knew the first gifts were from you. We’ve known for a while.”

Kid opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again “You—WHAT?!”

Heat, leaning against the rail with a huge grin “C’mon. You thought we wouldn’t recognize your handwriting? You write like you’re trying to fight the paper.”

Wire, popping his head out from the doorway “And who else would wrap a gift in metal wire and call it ‘aesthetic’?"

Killer adds “We figured if we pushed you enough, you’d confess eventually. That final gift was just the nudge.”

Kid stares at them like they’ve grown two heads “So it was a trap?!”

Killer, with a shrug “It worked.”

Then Killer turns to you “What we didn’t know was that you two were already together.”

There’s a ripple of surprise through the crew.

Wire nods “Yeah! Let's go back to that because... like... what?”

Heat nods even more dramatically “Yeah! Since when?!”

You, dryly “A few months before the first gift showed up.”

Kid’s jaw tightens like he regrets every decision leading to this moment.

“You guys are the worst” he growls.

Heat, wheezing “We’re the worst?! You’ve been sneaking around and flirting through weapon mods!”

Wire, laughing “AND YOU STILL DENIED IT TO Y/N’S FACE?!”

Kid lets out a sound somewhere between a growl and a scream and turns to you like you’re his last hope of escaping humiliation.

You just grin at him “C’mon, Captain. Let’s go before you combust.”

He’s still grumbling when you tug his arm and drag him below deck, muttering curses under his breath the whole way.

── .✦ Shanks:

The sea is quiet tonight.

The crew laughs near the campfire, their voices loud under the stars. You sit a little away from them, pretending to look at the moon. But really, you’re waiting. Waiting for him.

A warm hand touches your shoulder from behind.

“Miss me?” Shanks whispers, his voice soft like a wave brushing the shore.

You smile without turning “You’re late.”

“I had to talk to Benn. Captain stuff,” he says. Then he leans in close “But I’ve been thinking of you the whole time.”

You giggle, quiet “Liar.”

“I’m a pirate. What did you expect?”

Finally, you turn to him. Shanks is smiling that lazy smile you know too well. His red hair glows under the moonlight. His eyes? All on you.

“Don't look at me like that, someone might see it” you whisper, looking at the crew.

“They won’t,” he says “They’re drunk, loud, and too busy telling stories.”

You glance again. He’s right. No one is looking.

So you let him pull you behind the palm trees. The sand is warm under your feet, and the wind carries the scent of salt and firewood. He sits down and opens his arms.

“Come here.”

You crawl into his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He wraps his one arm around your waist, holding you close.

“I missed you today” you say.

“I missed you too” he says. Then he kisses the top of your head “You know what keeps me going?”

“What?”

“This. Just this.”

You press your face into his chest “You’re soft for a pirate.”

He laughs, his chest shaking “Only with you.”

The night is quiet now. Just the waves and the sound of his heartbeat.

He whispers, “One day, when this secret doesn’t have to be a secret anymore… I’ll hold your hand in front of everyone. I’ll kiss you right on the deck.”

You look up at him “Promise?”

“I swear on the one piece.”

You laugh again, and he kisses your nose “That’s a big promise” you say.

“I never break my promises” he says.

And in that moment, under the stars and hidden from the world, you believe him.

It’s late now. The fire has burned low. The crew is asleep, scattered in hammocks or on the beach.

But you’re wide awake.

You stare at the door of his cabin. You know it’s risky. But your heart pulls you there anyway.

You knock once, soft.

The door opens almost instantly. He’s there, sleepy eyes and messy hair. Shirt half buttoned.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks with a small smile.

You shake your head “Can I… stay?”

He doesn’t answer with words. Just steps aside, lets you in, and closes the door behind you.

His room smells like sea salt, old paper, and something that’s just him. It’s small but warm. The bed takes up most of the space.

“You sure you want to risk it?” he teases, pulling the blankets back.

You nod, already crawling in “You’re warm. That’s worth the risk.”

He chuckles, switching off the lantern “Come here then.”

The bed creaks as he joins you. You curl into his chest. His arm wraps around you tightly, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish.

You whisper into the dark, “I love when it’s just us.”

“I know,” he says, resting his chin on your head “Me too.”

Silence for a moment. Just your breaths, your hearts. Together.

Then he says, quietly, “I always sleep better when you’re here.”

You grin, even though he can’t see it.

“You snore” you whisper.

“Lies.”

“Loudly.”

He laughs, low and soft “I’m a captain. I’m allowed.”

You snuggle closer, legs tangled, warmth everywhere. His hand finds yours under the blanket. Fingers laced, easy and natural.

“Stay every night,” he says, voice almost a mumble now “Even if they find out. Even if it’s chaos. I don’t care anymore.”

“You’ll care when Benn gives you that look” you say.

“I’ll survive it,” he says “I won’t survive not having you.”

You go quiet at that. Because sometimes, he says things that hit your heart like a wave.

“I won’t survive not having you either” you whisper.

He kisses your forehead. Gentle. Safe. Real.

In the morning, the sunlight slips through the cracks in the window, painting golden stripes across the bed.

You stretch, warm and safe, still tucked under Shanks’ arm. He’s already awake, watching you with sleepy eyes and a soft smile.

“Morning” he whispers, brushing hair from your face.

“Morning” you mumble back, voice still scratchy from sleep.

He leans down and kisses your cheek “You drooled a little.”

“Liar.”

“You did.”

You groan, roll over, and bury your face in his pillow “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You don’t.

But you’re very late.

You were supposed to help Lucky Roux in the kitchen twenty minutes ago. But after all the cuddling and stealing kisses between brushing your teeth and Shanks being distracting (on purpose), you throw on the nearest shirt and rush out the door.

The morning air hits your face. The crew is already up, busy with chores, chatting, moving crates, laughing.

You walk fast, head down, trying not to look guilty. But then someone says behind you, “Hey…”

You freeze.

It’s Yasopp.

He squints, then tilts his head “That shirt looks kinda familiar…”

You look down. Big, red, half-buttoned pirate shirt. Smells faintly like rum and sea and... you.

It’s his shirt.

You force a smile “Oh, really? I, um… I just bought this yesterday in town! Crazy, right?”

Yasopp blinks “It’s just... Shanks has one just like that.”

You laugh. Too loud “That’s so funny! What a coincidence!”

He raises an eyebrow “Uh-huh.”

You start walking again “Okay, bye! Gotta go stir the stew!”

You practically run to the kitchen, slam the door behind you, and press your back to it, heart racing.

Lucky Roux looks up from chopping onions “You okay?”

“Fine! Everything’s fine! Great! Love onions!”

You spend the next hour hiding in the kitchen, trying to look very busy.

You’re scrubbing a spoon like it just insulted your whole family when you hear footsteps outside.

Then, his voice.

“Mmh…”

It’s Shanks.

You freeze.

“I swear I left it here somewhere…” he mumbles, mostly to himself.

Lucky Roux looks up “Captain?”

Shanks scratches his head “My red shirt. The one with the loose buttons? I wanted to wash it but… maybe I already did? Or someone moved it?”

You choke on air.

Lucky Roux’s eyes widen.

You slowly turn, still holding the spoon, sweat forming on your back.

Yasopp walks in right then, and Lucky Roux points at you silently.

Yasopp follows the finger… sees the very red shirt you’re wearing… and his jaw drops.

“Oh… my… GOD.”

You raise your hands like you’re being arrested “I can explain—”

“No no no no, don’t you dare,” Yasopp says, pointing now “This is amazing. Since when?!”

Shanks, confused, looks between you and them “Wait… what’s happening?”

Your face burns “Shanks. This is your shirt.”

He blinks.

Looks at you.

Then at the shirt.

Then back.

“Oh.”

The silence lasts about two seconds.

Then the entire kitchen explodes.

“What the hell?!”

“You two?!”

“I KNEW IT!”

Lucky Roux claps like he just saw a proposal “This is the best day of my life.”

You groan and hide behind a cabinet door.

Shanks laughs, holding up his hands “Okay, okay, okay, you got us.”

Yasopp shouts, “Since when?”

Shanks grins and leans casually against the table “Mmh… A while. Since that one stop in Lougetown.”

“That was months ago!” someone yells.

You peek out, blushing “We were being careful!”

“You wore his shirt” Yasopp deadpans.

Shanks throws an arm around your shoulder “Guess we don’t have to be careful anymore.”

The crew starts chanting something dumb like “KISS KISS KISS!” and you groan again, but Shanks just laughs and plants a quick kiss on your temple, bold and smug.

“Oh you're actually loving all this” you whisper.

“A lot” he whispers back.

── .✦ Bartolomeo:

You didn’t mean to fall for Bartolomeo.

It kind of… just happened.

Between the screaming, the fangirling, the way he glared at anyone who looked at you too long. But somewhere between the nonsense, you found something real.

He loves big. Loud. Unfiltered. But when no one’s watching? He loves so quietly, you can barely believe it’s the same guy.

Right now, you're hiding in the hallway of the ship, tucked behind a stack of crates. Bartolomeo is sitting cross-legged, handing you a rice ball.

“I made it for you!” he says, puffing out his chest “I watched a tutorial. It’s heart-shaped!”

You look down. It’s… more like a lumpy circle, but you smile anyway.

“It’s perfect” you say.

His face turns red “Y/n…” He sways a little, hand over his heart “You’re too kind… I’m gonna DIE!”

You laugh and take a bite.

“Don’t die. You still owe me cuddles tonight.”

“RIGHT. YES. I shall live for the cuddles.”

The secret has stayed safe. So far.

Except today, you dock on an island with a bunch of rowdy pirates who definitely pick a fight before lunch.

You’re in the middle of battle, blocking with a staff, when one pirate gets too close and knocks you to the ground.

You’re fine. A little scratched. But Bartolomeo sees it happen. And then it happens.

He turns.

He screams.

“THAT’S MY BABYYYYYYYYY—!”

Everyone stops.

Even the wind pauses.

You slowly get up. Face blank.

He freezes.

His hand is mid-air, about to use his barrier powers. His eyes wide.

“…Did I just say that out loud?” he whispers.

The entire crew is staring.

Someone goes, “Wait. Your baby???”

You try to speak “Uh—he means—”

“I MEAN WHAT I SAID,” Bartolomeo yells again, fully panicking now “Y/N IS MY BABY. MY LOVE. MY SWEET CHERRY BLOSSOM—”

“BARTO,” you hiss “Stop confessing in front of everyone!”

Too late.

He throws his hands up and suddenly there’s a giant heart-shaped barrier around you two. Sparkly. Pink. Absolutely not subtle.

He turns to you “At least we’re alone now.”

You facepalm “There’s a window, Barto.”

You hear cheering from outside.

“THEY’RE DATINGGGGG!”

“PAY UP, I TOLD YOU THEY WERE!”

“DOES LUFFY KNOW?!”

You sigh.

Bartolomeo wraps you in his arms, completely unbothered now “So… secret’s out.”

You look up at him “What gave it away? The screaming or the love bubble prison?”

“…Both?”

You can’t help it. You laugh. He kisses your forehead.

“I love you” he says.

“I love you too” you whisper, even if the entire world hears it now.

After that no one seems to actually care about the two of you.

Weeks later you and Bartolomeo are docked on a chill island when you run into the last people you expected: the Straw Hat Pirates.

Luffy spots you both instantly.

“YO, BARTO!!” he shouts, waving like a madman.

Bartolomeo screams, throws himself to the ground, and starts sobbing with joy.

“LUFFY-SENPAI! I WOULD DIE FOR YOU! THANK YOU FOR BREATHING IN MY DIRECTION!!”

You’re behind him like “Okay, this is fine.”

You greet the rest of the crew like normal. Everyone’s smiling, happy to see you, no one suspects a thing.

You and Bartolomeo agreed before getting there: keep it private. You didn’t want anyone or worse, Luffy finding out. Bartolomeo is just way better when it's just the two of you.

That night, it happens.

“GAME NIGHT!” Usopp shouts “Winner gets free food!”

The crew splits into teams. You get pulled into a round of a random game and of course you end up against Luffy.

Everyone’s crowded around. People are yelling. Sanji’s handing out drinks. Robin and Nami are judging.

Luffy’s up first.

He draws a card and starts flapping his arms.

“Bird!” “Chicken!” “Flying fish!” “Zoro waking up late!”

He gets it.

Then it’s your turn.

You pull your card and immediately drop to the ground, trying to act out a seal (It’s harder than it looks).

People are guessing like crazy.

"Penguin!" "Sea cow?"

Luffy squints.

Bartolomeo, sitting quietly in the back with popcorn, clutches his cup.

He stares at you with so much intensity, it’s insane.

And then it happens... again.

You clap your hands and bounce a little, still acting out the seal.

He jumps to his feet.

“YES BABY! GO! DESTROY HIM!! YOU GOT THIS, MY LITTLE WAR MACHINE!!”

Silence.

Everyone stares.

You freeze mid-flap.

Luffy slowly turns “Wait… Baby?”

Zoro raises an eyebrow “Little war what?”

Nami drops her drink.

Chopper gasps so hard he hiccups.

Sanji says “Wait a damn minute...”

Bartolomeo realizes too late. Hands fly to his mouth.

You’re still stuck in seal position, blinking.

Robin, smiling softly “Well… that explains the way he looks at you.”

You turn to look at him, mad “Do you even try??”

Usopp yells, “YOU TWO?! YOU’VE BEEN DATING THIS WHOLE TIME?!”

Bartolomeo’s face is red as a tomato “I… I didn’t mean to! y/n was just so cute pretending to be a seal...”

You slap your forehead.

Luffy, wide-eyed, just goes, “Whoa. You’re dating my number one fan. That’s crazy. He even choose to cheer for you.”

You sigh “Yeah. It is.”

And then he bursts out laughing “THAT’S SO COOL!”

The whole crew joins in, laughing, teasing, clapping Bartolomeo on the back. He’s half-proud, half-mortified, but he doesn’t stop smiling all night.

Later, when the chaos dies down, he wraps an arm around your waist and whispers, “Sorry, babe.”

You smirk “For cheering too loud?”

“For waiting this long to yell about how amazing you are.”

You roll your eyes “I liked the ‘my little war machine’ part.”

He gasps “Really?! I was just improvising!”

“Never do that again.”

“Okay but also… you were winning.”