#when my own writing makes me giddy and smiley

[blue-eyed-author]

I love it when my own writing makes me smile. :D

[eightballspins]

(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) what dating jiung would be like

pairing : (p1h) jiung x male reader

rating : fluff

requested : yes !!! my first request thank u sm <333 i love my jiung sm so this was so fun to write and be compltely delusional

warnings : mention of mlm relationships being mis-perceived (is that a word...)??? idk i kind of incorporated how touchy and high affection relationships between two boys is often times seen as just a close, comfortable friendship instead of a romantic relationship? idk if that warrants a warning but prefacing that in case!!

a/n : okokok personally projecting on this one so bear with me but i feel like these characteristics really fit jiung idk lmk if i cooked or not

wc : 3.0k+

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ heavily into eye contact, wants to always be looking into your eyes and yours into his. there’s something so intimate about it. it makes him feel as if you are the only two people in the world and it often times just makes him feel so giddy and calm, at the same time. like, he’s so smiley whenever you two do lock eyes, gums on display and that charming smile of his so apparent. but also calm in the sense that, you two are only looking at each other, meaning that everything that he loves and cares about is right in front of him and its almost as if all of his worries wash off of his shoulders at that realization.

”i can do it,” jiung offers, anxiously watching as you cut the vegetables as your part of prep for dinner. he’s just nervous about you accidentally cutting your finger or skin, even though you’re a perfectly capable grown man. plus, he likes the idea of spoiling you — even if its small gestures.

”jij, i can do it,” you answer back quickly, forehead crinkled as you focused on your task at hand.

jiung can only sigh, watching from the sides as you continued working. after finishing all of the ingredients that needed to be cut, he gently spun you around and kissed you, “thank you for helping out,” is all you hear before focusing on your charming boyfriend that was so softly kissing you.

he’s smiling into the kiss, pulling away and keeping his hand cupped around your cheek. he’s grinning ear to ear, with what almost seems like sparkles in his eyes. his eyes on locked onto your own, suddenly looking even more enthralling. his lips were quirked into a little smirk as he watched you carefully.

his eyes were wide, waiting for your next move and then they gently closed when he saw that you were leaning in for another kiss.

(i love jiungs eyes theyre so pretty idk the shape of them makes me go so insane) (prettiest eyes in piwon confirmed) (keeho close second-)

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ okay so we all know that choi jiung is not a big touchy feely kind of guy. and that stood to be completely true at the beginning of your relationship. you’d have to be the one to initiate physical affection a lot at the beginning and at times it was kind of intimidating because you obviously knew his preferences. but a guy just needs a hug sometimes, yk so you’d hug him from time to time and he wouldn’t really fight against it. over time, he found himself loving all the touches you guys would share and then he began initiating all of the affections. it took a while for him to get completely comfortable to get to that point, but he’s so thankful that you were so patient and understanding of him.

jiung was on weverse doing a live, but it was only the audio that was being streamed. so you were both comfortable cuddling on his bed, not worried about any fans’ watching since they could only hear his voice. he was laying flat on his back, your head resting on his chest as his hand was going up and down your back. you were mindlessly scrolling on your phone as he was reading through the comments of the live.

“jiung what are you doing now? just laying down — getting ready to sleep,” he answers easily, “im trying to recharge because we were very busy today. first, we had to go to a meeting with the rest of the members, then we had practice which just ended, so now im resting and talking to p1eces,” you can hear his smile as he talks, cuddling closer to his chest and turning off your phone.

he squeezes your shoulder to convince you to sleep, which you don’t argue against.

“did i eat today? i did, i had a big meal because practice was really draining. how about you guys? eating three meals a day is very important, y’know? if you don’t eat three a day, you might get sick,” his natural ability to talk so smoothly about any subject what was made you fall asleep so soundly, his soothing voice being the last thing you heard.

and jiung was very close to ending the live and joining you, but he wanted to give some more time to p1ece since he hadn’t talked to them in so long.

“jiung, is someone snoring? is it one of the other members?” he chuckles at the comment, holding you closer as he answers, “you guys can hear that?” his cute laughter is all that p1ece heard, but in the room he was fondly looking at you, “yeah, someone is sleeping, so we have to be quiet okay?”

the chat is immediately flooded with “okay” and “yes”, making jiung smile even wider.

he talked with them for a little while longer before deciding it was time to end the live, it was getting late and he could feel the exhaustion from the entire day catching up to him. after bidding his chocochips farewell with his signature goodbye, he shut his phone off, plugged it in, and got more comfortable in bed with you.

he shuffled down, holding you tight to his body to hopefully not disrupt your slumber, and sighed in relief to be in a comfortable position. his arm was wrapped around your shoulder, securely holding you to his chest as his other hand was just sprawled over the sheets.

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ is always looking for you and thinking about you. unfortunately with how hectic their schedule is, you don’t always spend a lot of time together during the day time — usually at night is when you’re together. whenever he’s with the members, staff, or anyone, he’s always talking about you (his yapping self-) or he’s thinking about you so much he’s gone nonverbal.

currently, the boys were shooting some stuff for a segment on their own variety show and while the staff around them was getting everything set up, the members were allowed to freely roam around.

“ah, [name] would like something like this,” jiung says excitedly, pointing over to some random item that caught his eyes. he knew that it matched your current aesthetic. so he turned to look at theo who was closely trailing behind him and asked, “do you think i should buy it for him?”

“yah, jiung be more careful speaking out loud like that,” theo lightly scolds, gesturing to all the mics that were around plus the ones they were already wearing.

jiung waved his hand with a smile, “they’re not filming yet,”

theo only sighs, watching as your boyfriend fondly looks at the item, “yeah, buy it for him, i think he’d like it too,”

“right? okay, i’m going really quick — if someone is looking for me i’m at the cashier,”

taeyang nods in understanding, then shaking his head at what a lovesick puppy his friend has turned into.

when shooting for the show began, they only got a couple minutes in before a staff was questioning jiung on what he was holding. the members all looked at him in curiosity, except taeyang, and all of them sighed when he shyly smiled and said, “oh, it’s for [name],”

their manager face palmed at the side, walking over and taking the bag from jiung’s hand right away, “start it over,” the manager briskly orders the filming staff, making everyone sigh in annoyance.

“sorry,” jiung apologizes, but the wide smile on his face shows he’s not all that sorry about his accidental slip up.

his mind just naturally trails off thinking of you, you’re really on his mind 24/7. if he sees something funny on his phone, he’s sending it to you immediately. if he sees something that reminds him of you, he’s taking a picture of it and sending it to you. if anyone mentions anything that could somehow relate to you, jiung is rambling on about your connection to said subject.

the members find it endearing how obviously in love with you he is, but sometimes it does get irritating when every other thing jiung talks about is you. not because it’s you, but because when jiung talks about you — he talks. they mean full blown five-ten minute ramblings about you.

they love your guys relationship and you, it’s just jiung is such an active yapper already, when it’s you it’s as if the yapping increase by a million.

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ knows your preferences like they’re his own. your boyfriend is the most observant man on earth. he can easily tell when something will or will not be to your liking. this comes in handy whenever the members want to give you a gift when they’re abroad (their sweet souls-) or when they’re out at a restaurant and bringing something for you to eat at home. this gift of jiung’s also ensures that the gifts he gives you (read: he loves spoiling you all the time) are perfect and always suit your tastes.

“jiung, what about this? would he like this shirt?” keeho points to something that is hanging on the rack, eyes blown wide, “well, it’s already his favorite color-”

“no, no, he doesn’t like those designs,” jiung says, walking over and acting as your personal stylist with the way he begins to go on an in depth tangent on what your preferences are in clothing, “see, because when it’s shaped like this, he doesn’t like how it frames him. so don’t look at those types of shirts,” jiung hums, walking around the store with keeho trailing behind, “try something like this, this is something he’d definitely wear,”

keeho cheers in accomplishment, even though he didn’t really do anything, and gets to searching. jiung walks on his own, finding souvenirs for both you and him. he smiles whenever he sees something cute, but has to restrain himself from buying every singe little thing that reminds him of you. he misses you a lot…

he pulls out his phone to text you, hitting send just in time before intak is asking him for help too. the man is also looking for gifts for you and knows to consult jiung, obviously. your boyfriend is eager to help, happy to find that his close friends are so considerate of you and your souvenirs from their abroad travels.

whenever the two of you go out, a little thing that jiung does is order for you — now!!! it might sound annoying and unbearable but walk w me. so basically, you and jiung were trying a new restaurant, something that both of you enjoyed since it was a safe option. after looking over the menu for a couple of minutes, you two talk about the variety of food.

“they all look so good, i don’t know which one i should get,” you half-heartedly complain.

jiung’s eyebrows are furrowed as he reads over the menu one more time before turning it to you and pointing at one dish, “this one, i think you’d like this one. it sounds really good too,” he comments, smiling softly at the way your face visibly gets excited at the sight of the food. “i’ll order it for you?”

“yes, thank you, jiung,” you sweetly say, making him chuckle at the tone you were using. he reaches over to hold your hand, rubbing the back of it gently.

“i’m also getting this dish, so we can try each others, if you want,” seeing his selection makes you even more hungry, thinking about how you were going to be eating good tonight.

jiung’s knowledge of your preferences are so accurate that you end up eating off of both yours and his plate, and vice versa. he smiles throughout the entire dinner, finding the image of you excitedly eating the food adorable and a sight he wants to see forever. nothing more adorable than your cheeks full of food and that happy look on your face as you eat.

he is glad he was able to pick satisfactory dishes, smiling ear to ear the entire dinner with you.

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ definitely finds you as his muse. there is rarely ever a time he doesn’t involve you in his creation process for music, which is understandable since sometimes he really needs to lock in. but seriously, he finds so much inspiration in your mere presence, you really do help him so much through his writing, composing, and producing process. just by you being the room with him, it helps him so much in everything. it’s as if you lift a weight off of his shoulders.

now p1ece were aware of who you were. they didn’t think that you and jiung were dating, though, mainly due to the fact that you were both boys and they just didn’t automatically assume you were anything more than friends. it was kind of fun that way, since jiung could easily sing praises for you and be as sappy about your guys relationship and the fans will seriously play it off as “i love their friendship”

jiung appreciates that since it doesn’t put you two in an extremely uncomfortable situation and allows you two to hide your relationship in plain sight. and while he can’t really openly show you affection or speak his mind on just how much he loves you, he is glad that he can speak your names in the same sentence and his fans won’t immediately threaten you, or anything like that.

“are you sure it’s recording?” you ask, looking at the miniature camera the company had lent jiung for the rest of the day.

“yeah, when the light is red that means it’s filming,” he clarifies, making you hum in understanding. “hello, everyone,” he greets the camera, reminding himself that he has to act as if he is speaking to a live audience.

the company wanted some behind the scenes footage of jiung composing p1harmony’s songs, which explains the two of you sitting in his studio as well as the mini camera and tripod that were now on his desk.

“so this the process of me writing the first couple lyrics to one of our upcoming songs,” he explains, placing the camera down so that you were not in frame and it was mainly him and his keyboard in sight. “i have someone here to kind of help me through it, but i honestly think i know how i want to do this,”

you crack a smile at the reference to yourself, jiung already watching your reaction with a smile on his face, too.

“it’s a love ballad, softer than a lot of our songs. and it’s supposed to be on the refreshing side, so i hope i can show that process to you now,” he hums, looking at his computer screen, “should i do this or should i do that, is what i’m thinking now because i have a lot of lyrics already drafted up. i can’t show you, but i’m going through my digital notes right now,”

his words make you curiously look up, shifting in your seat to get a good glimpse of the lyrics. reading over the cheesy, sappy, and dramatic lines jiung had crafted about you makes a smile break out on your face.

“do you like them? which one is your favorite?” he asks, scooting over so you can get a better look. you’re in frame now, but it’s fine because he knows the company will blur out your face for your privacy.

all the lines jiung had written about you were all so sweet, it tempted you to give him a kiss right then and there. but you withheld, instead focusing on picking just one line to be your favorite. meanwhile, jiung is watching you like an excited kid showing something to their parent. he really loves hearing any feedback you give him as it believes it makes him a stronger artist.

his hand goes to gently caress the back of your thigh as he awaits to hear what you say. he can see in the view finder the camera can’t see it, so he’s carefree in his actions. anyone can tell that the look in his eyes is that of pure admiration, but he knows that p1ece will be none the wiser.

“hm, this one!” you point a finger at the screen, making jiung lean forward and read it over. the both of you are grinning ear to ear and those eyes of his are crinkled so obviously at the ends.

“really? those one are your favorite?” you hum in confirmation, for a moment forgetting that there is a camera recording you two. “i like those too, i feel like they’re pretty specific so it might not be that relatable to others…but to me, they’re really strong lyrics that show genuine love,” near the end of his sentence he realizes that he has to have some sort of filter and adds in, “only if you know what true love is, everyone, will you be able to relate.”

you roll your eyes at his cheesy line and cheap save, going back to sit on the sofa that was in his studio and going to sit on the couch.

“oh, here there are some lines in here about a forbidden love you guys might like — it’s also a little specific, sorry, but if you’ve ever experienced anything like it, you’ll get it right away!”

┆chronic yapper jiung being the most adorable, caring, and attentive boyfriend out there — i would know, i’m his real boyfriend everyone!! okay but seriously you’d be the center of this guys’ universe if you were his, he loves connecting everything back to you UGH i love jiung.

[j-nope-not-today]

Can you write the tmnt 2014/2016 boys getting married to their so?? Im curious how the boys act when it is their wedding day and when they see their so in a beautiful dress in their colour🥰

TMNT reaction to getting married

A/n: hello! Thanks for requesting! I didn't put anything specific about the dress just so everyone can imagine their own thing.

Raphael

Well my oh my don't you look absolutely gorgeous

He's gonna try his best not to drool over you

Bc honestly you've never looked better to him 🧎

So for starters

His proposal..

Oooh boy was it an absolute train wreck of a proposal

He thought he had it in the bag

And then he looked up at you

And he fucking broke

Guarantee you he'll stutter and almost drop the ring box

But don't worry.. Raph is smooth so he pulls through

By an absolute fucking land slide, but he pulls through

Obviously you say yes

So here we are

Wedding day...and honestly he's nervous

More than nervous..I think he'll probably need a pep talk from his brothers to pull through

Cries when he sees you

Omg I can see it now. The music is playing and you start walking down the aisle and you look at him

And he is just in absolute fucking tears. Hand over face.

You know those kids that snot all over the place when they cry? Yeah that's Raph

Just overcome with emotions

But once your there in front of him he pulls himself together for you.

God he just feels so lucky

Leonardo

Hello beautiful 😍

Man is already whipped so you can bet he's gonna have a bomb ass proposal

Trained doves.

Yeah that's right I bet you anything he's gonna go all out and have doves fly out when he gets on his knee

Of course knowing Leonardo it probably isn't gonna go as planned so they'll probably not fly out on cue

But otherwise he's gonna make sure it's picture perfect for you

When the wedding day does come

He's gonna be a little stressed which is going to lead to him probably seeming a little bit like a jerk

But the moment he sees you.. everything falls into place for him

He gets all smiley and stuff

When you get up to the alter he's gonna whisper to you how beautiful he thinks you look

Compliments left and right your gonna have to tell him to shut it so you can hear the preacher guy

But my god doesn't he feel like the luckiest guy there is

Donatello

Speechless

He's rendered absolutely speechless

Because my god your...the most perfect looking person there is..

His proposal..it was probably somewhere quiet

Just the two of you..

Maybe watching a movie..or having a small dinner in his lab..

And he honestly doesn't even plan it

It just pops out

"hey y/n..we should get married?"

And so..you do.

He isn't much for being super sentimental in my opinion

So he shows it in other ways besides touch and words

You get a super beautiful ring and I can bet you anything he has the inside engraved with something sweet he's said to you before

Something stupid like: "your the only person I would let have the last poptart"

But you know he means well and despite what anyone says he can be super sweet..

So when he sees you walk down the aisle..I think it would be the only time he would let his emotions run the show.

Tears up. Holds your hands when your at the alter

And probably gives you the most heartfelt..most sentimental speech in his entire time of knowing you

Yeah..Donnie feels like a pretty lucky guy having you around

Michelangelo

Look at you...looking all cute

He absolutely gushes over you..

His proposal is probably..I don't know..chaotic? Yet extremely touching

Probably orders a heart shaped pizza..and the pepperoni's spell out 'marry me'

Classic Mikey move..but it's touching

You probably won't even guess it's coming.. it's just like any other night

He tells you to go open the pizza on the counter and grab a slice

And when you open it.. that's what your met with

And when you turn around..he's on one knee..ring in hand and a dopey smile on his face

So on your wedding day..he's giddy..not an ounce of nervousness in him

He just knows your it for him..your the one

So what does he have to be nervous about?

Cheesy ass smile the moment he sees you walk down the aisle

And man oh man does he make sure you know how fine you look

Probably doesn't give the best vows..he's not one for speeches..but when your alone..he'll be sure to tell you how happy he is

Lucky is an understatement for Mikey

He feels blessed to have you

[princessdong]

Not a child anymore

I know I said I wouldn't write member x member, but it had to be done for this. Also, trigger warning there's a death mentioned. Also someone talking about throwing up, but they don't do it, but there goes the warning too.

Wony was only six when the hybrid refuge was opened, and from the very beginning she liked to go there and talk with other young hybrids. She evidently got her charms from Jiu, and everyone seemed to fall in love with her, which she appreciated as she was used to her new mothers’ constant pampering. And she was only eleven the first time someone didn’t fall for her charms. Ahn Yujin was a “stray” cat hybrid, having lived all her life on the streets, and she wasn’t a people’s person.

"So what, you're the princess of this place?" Yujin had asked a year later, seeing that Wonyoung was hellbent on being liked by her.

"My two moms own the place, yeah." Wonyoung had answered with certain pride of the fact that her mothers had decided to make that huge place to help hybrids.

"That makes sense... That's why you believe everyone should like you." Yujin scoffed, going back to play with a ball she was given by one of her very few friends. She was throwing the ball up and catching it, at least until Wonyoung grabbed it. "You're doing it hard to like you, princess."

"People like me because they want to like me, it doesn't have anything to do with who my parents are." She answered, somewhere between a whine and a growl, which made Yujin chuckle.

"How cute, the bunny thinks she has claws." The cat hybrid mocked.

Tired of being teased and mocked by the girl, Wonyoung stood right in front of her. Even though her height wasn't impressive, and she still looked like a baby, it certainly got Yujin's attention.

"I might be a bunny, but my brother is a wolf hybrid, and my mom is Kim Minji and Jang Y/N, so I'm not just another bunny hybrid." Wonyoung spat before turning around and walking away from her.

Yujin only chuckled, and then followed behind the girl, after all, teasing and mocking Wonyoung was one of her favorite things to do.

Wonyoung was fourteen when she realized she was in love with Yujin. Or at least what she thought could be in love, as she was sure it wasn't just like her mothers, but they had been married for five years, and before that they had been together a decade. No, that love, in Wonyoung's eyes, was something that came with time, a love that you build up to have, so she decided to investigate the beginning of it. She decided to ask her mom Jiu, as she knew she'd be more gentle in the question asked, and she would answer the youngest's questions. Wony cringed as she remembered when Mingi said he liked someone and you were there to hear, you nearly interrogated the poor boy.

"Mom... How do you know you like someone?" The girl had asked, making her mother to stop cutting the vegetables and setting the knife aside.

"Well... You just feel it inside, in your heart. You just get all smiley when you see them, and you feel just giddy inside, like when you eat candies, but without the candies." Jiu explained, and Wony started thinking.

She started to search for those things in her memories and she couldn't deny that, even though she hid it very well in front of Yujin, she did felt like that when she was around. But Yujin probably didn't know, as they were always bickering playfully, as their friendship was more like a chess game, with both of them waiting for the other to cave in and be openly friendly with the other.

"Did it happen the first time you saw mama?" Wony then asked, wanting to know if it was possible for her to feel it with time, as she despised Yujin at first.

"No, at first I was terrified of her, I..." Jiu sighed, knowing that she never had spoken about it, but she did therapy, and she spent countless hours healing from it on her own, and with your help, so she knew she was ready. "I ran away, from an owner I had, who wanted me to... For my body. I ran away before he kicked me out, I just couldn't take it anymore." She started explaining, walking to the kitchen aisle, knowing that the conversation would be long after that. "And I met your mother when I was sleeping in the park, in the middle of the winter, and Nina came running to me. Do you remember Nina?"

Nina grew older, and died when Wonyoung was seven. The little girl had cried, but you were the one who cried the most, as she was like your baby, and you were the one who saw her grew up. Wony nodded at it, smiling at the memory of the dog playing with her even if it looked like she was about to give up.

"Well, Nina ran to me, and at first I was scared of your mom, and even if I came here I was scared, I didn't want to die outside, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to live with a monster... But I think we both know she's not a monster, and I couldn't help but fall in love with her, with her kindness, with her smiles..."

"I think I'm gonna threw up from so much sweetness." Wonyoung couldn't help but say, earning a laugh from Jiu.

"One day you'll be like this and I'll be the one saying it." The woman replied, getting her daughter red as a tomato, sitting down next to her mother.

"I really doubt it, our relationship is complicated, I wouldn't even call it a friendship." Wony said, and her ears dropped, getting pinned to her head, as Jiu always did when she got sad.

"What do you mean? Yujin is head over heels for you." Jiu told her, having seen the pair interact more than once.

It was obvious, for everyone outside the pair, and you, that Wonyoung liked Yujin as much as Yujin liked her, so it came to a surprise for Wonyoung that her mother would know who her crush was.

"How do you know?" The girl asked, earning a laugh from her mother.

"Well, I'm your mother, I know everything. Plus I've seen you with her on the shelter, and I won't doubt your relationship is the same as her even if she's now adopted." Jiu explained, seeing her daughter's red face. "Now come on, let's finish with diner while you tell me more about it, I wanna know everything I can so I can play matchmaker."

"Don't you dare!" Wony threatened, but as every threat she could do, it came out adorable.

"And you shouldn't do it because mama will know" Mingi said while back hugging his sister, earning a yelp from her.

"You scared me!" Wony said, punching his older brother. "But he has a reason though, if you do, mom will know, I'd rather get into this on my own."

The two siblings laughed at his mom's shocked expression, quickly engaging into a conversation about Wonyoung's love for the cat hybrid, where the girl only came out with a question. Did Yujin feel the same?

She had that question answered a year later, as she had her first kiss at fifteen.

"When will you stop acting as if you owned the world? Yes, we all get it, your mothers owned the refuge I came from, but this ain't that, this is a school, you're not more than anyone here."

If Yujin had to be honest, that very same actitud Wonyoung had was one of the main things she liked about her. She was confident, but never to the point to be arrogant, just to the point to be cocky, and even if she swore she hated it, it couldn't be a bigger lie.

"When will you start accepting you like me then?" Wonyoung asked with a smirk, while sitting on the teacher's desk but leaning towards the girl, who was three rows away.

Yujin frowned, not because the idea of liking Wonyoung was awful, but because she knew the younger girl had the upper hand. She was hanging out during lunch on a classroom of the grade below her, with a girl a year below her, just because she couldn't seem to get enough of her. So Yujin got closer, trapping Wonyoung with her arms on the desk, and she got closer, slowly, as if she was waiting for the girl to say something, or do something that showed her that trying to kiss Wonyoung was a mistake.

Suddenly it wasn't about who had the upper hand, or who was closer to the checkmate, suddenly it was a waltz they both tried to lead and never tried to feel the rhythm, but they had to if they wanted to dance together.

Wonyoung panicked for a moment, face red, eyes looking everywhere, and her heart hammering against her chest so hard she thought it was going to get out of her. But she leaned in, giving Yujin a quick peck on her lips, which left her equally flustered. The cat hybrid opened her eyes wide, cheeks reed, and a small smile on her lips.

"It's the first time I see you smile." Wony said, almost teasingly.

"Oh, shut up." Yujin said, this time kissing Wonyoung properly.

And now she was sixteen, they've been a year dating, but she was still fearful of your reaction. Not because she thought you were going to lash out, or you would react badly... Besides your normal overprotection because you refused to realize your children weren't children anymore, but because she cared too much about your opinion. You never judged her, and never were harsh on your opinions, but she always sought your opinion on everything. It was never to the point where she wouldn't do it, or buy it, or whatever she asked her opinion for, if you didn't approve it, but it was more like a second sight she cherished, and if you didn't like Yujin, who she was in love with, Wonyoung wouldn't know what to do. She knew Jiu would approve, Jiu had met Yujin plenty of times after they became a couple, and Jiu had always been supportive, even more after seeing how Yujin seemed to be terrified of her, and Mingi was friends with Yujin, so the only one who was still not approving explicitly was you, but you weren't aware of it.

But as most of the family knew about the relationship between her and the cat hybrid, they still hung out on the house, being careful when you were there, but otherwise acting like a couple. Though even if they acted like a couple in front of you, you wouldn't know, you wouldn't expect that from Wony. At least not in the house.

And that's how they got to be in the couch with a movie on the tv, although the movie was long forgotten in favor of Wonyoung's inherited awful jokes, in which Yujin wasn't sure why she found them funny, thinking that maybe it had to be something in the way the younger told them as if they were the funniest thing ever, even laughing while she told them. Jiu watched them from the kitchen, remembering her younger self with you, who also laughed at those jokes even if you didn't find them funny. Yujin then got closer to Wonyoung's ear, saying something to her before the younger pouted, but Yujin quickly pecked her cheek, sneakily intertwined her hands.

It was young love, Jiu thought, that need to be in touch with your lover all the time, you and Minji... Well, no, you and Minji still were very touchy, but your love was more doing small things for each other, things that people probably expected for a marriage, but Jiu and you did it because you two loved each other. But she still remembered the beginning of your love, when you just started to date, and how you two had to be in touch with each other in some way.

"I'm glad to see that Wony had finally got her way to be Yujin's friend. I always found it sad how Yujinnie wouldn't make friends on the refuge." You said while hugging Jiu from behind, looking at your daughter and what you thought it was a friend.

"Yeah, they surely got... Close." Jiu said, not knowing exactly how to react to that without letting you know they were something more. After all, it was Wony's decision to tell you about her girlfriend. But even then, Mingi's snort wouldn't be of help to it.

"I would say they are past close, don’t you think? I mean, they come to my dates with me and Subin...” Mingi pushed, trying to see if you were that oblivious or you were just faking it.

“Are your dates that boring that you have to hang out with your friend and your sister?” You asked almost immediately, not thinking your answer before saying it.

“Well, I deserved that one.” Mingi muttered before retreating back at his bedroom, but coming back quickly. “My dearest ladies, my favorite people in the world...”

“Yes, your boyfriend can come for dinner, stop being so obvious when you want something. And please say hi to his parents for me if you go to his house.” You quickly answered, already knowing your son far too much.

Mingi ran out of the kitchen once again and went back to his bedroom, earning a look from Yujin, who once again got closer to Wonyoung and said something that made her laugh.

“Who are they dating?” You suddenly asked, being almost too close to the point but still missing it completely.

“What?” Jiu asked, almost thinking you were joking.

“Yeah, you heard him, they sometimes go with him on his dates with Subin. I mean, you saw how Wonyoung got when she thought Yujin was dating that girl Kazuha, do you remember?”

It was impossible for anyone to forget. Wonyoung was really jealous of the japanese transfer, as Kazuha was everything Wony faked to be, and worst of all, she had Yujin’s affection in its purest form. There weren’t compliment that almost looked like insults, or lingering looks that were followed after with scoffs because they were meant to be enemies. Turns out Kazuha was also adopted by Yujin’s parents, so all along Wony had been jealous of her now sister-in-law, but on that moment it didn’t matter.

“And, we know everyone loves Wony, many of the kids were and some are still in love with her, she’s quite popular in her school too, it wouldn’t be crazy to think someone had asked Mingi for help, he’s her brother. Maybe it was that girl Jihyo from school, or maybe Chaeyoung the neighbor.” You kept talking, unaware of the young couple looking at you, as you were looking at your wife.

“No, I am her girlfriend. And Wonyoung is my girlfriend.” Yujin said.

She wasn’t sure of what came over her with that, as she was terrified of you, and rightfully so, as she had heard about how you reacted when Mingi spoke for the first time about his boyfriend, and remembered the many times you fought any grown up person who dared to upset your dearest Wony, and the only reason you didn’t fought toddlers, children and teenagers alike was because you had a huge moral sense that you wouldn’t lose it over people who weren’t even adults yet. But still, she was really close to be an adult, and while she admired you for not being afraid of punching the people who rallied outside the refuge to riot against hybrids, now she was worried about her wellbeing, even more after knowing that you were well aware of the strange relationship she had with Wonyoung.

“You two are... dating.” You said, as if you needed to hear it from your own mouth for it to be true. “You two are girlfriends.” You said, before letting go of Jiu and dropping yourself on the nearest stool.

"She's okay, she just likes to be dramatic." Wonyoung whispered to Yujin once she saw the face her girlfriend was doing as if she thought she was about to kill you.

"For how long?" You asked finally putting all the pieces of the puzzle together.

"A year." Yujin answered, with her voice wavering.

"A year!" You shouted, feeling like she was talking about Wonyoung when she was six. "A year, she was fifteen, okay, I can go past that." You said, having a hard time accepting that fifteen wasn't actually too young to start dating, even though it was your daughter you were talking about. "Come here Yujin, let's talk, yeah?"

Wonyoung grabbed Yujin's wrist, not wanting her to get closer to you, wanting to hear every single bit they spoke, but Yujin took the fact that she still had her head as a good sign, so she got closer to you, sitting on the stool next to you. You looked at her, and inched yourself closer, even if you were aware the girls could still hear you. Even then, you pointed at Wonyoung, making Yujin look at her too.

"See that girl? She might be your girlfriend now, but I won't forget how we had to be around her each time she went visiting you in fear of something happening to her. She's the very same girl you more than once you made her cry, and she happens to be my daughter. My princess. So if this is some elaborated plan to break her heart, humiliate her, or to do any kind of harm, I swear I will hunt you, and I'll break every single bone in your body so you can feel some kind of pain close to what you did to my baby. Is that understood?"

Despite you were close to three times her age, Yujin was aware you were not weaker, and she knew you loved her girlfriend in a way only a mother could love their child, so she knew that was not a threat, but a warning. But even as Wonyoung was looking at you as if she dared you to hurt her, Yujin knew right there she was never to suffer that pain.

"Maybe next time we can go and break the bones of whoever makes her cry, Y/N." She finally answered, earning a chuckle from you, and a soft palm on her shoulder.

"That's the best answer I could've have given. Subin almost peed his pants when I made him sit next to him... I guess I can only say welcome to the family. But still I'll have to enforce the open door in her room policy, and please no kissing in front of me. Anywhere but in front of me."

"But you kiss mom in front of us all the time!" Wonyoung protested.

"If you marry her then I might allow it, but as long as she's just your girlfriend, I'm not going to witness it, plus I know how you teenagers are." You counterattacked.

"But I can kiss her anywhere I want inside this house as long as you don't see her, right?" Wonyoung asked, getting closer to you and Yujin.

She grabbed Yujin's hand, and even though you made a face, you didn't say anything about it.

"That's exactly what I said." You answered, grinning.

Wonyoung smiled at you almost too innocently for your liking, yanking Yujin from her seat before walking away.

"Where are you going?" You asked, with your grin quickly disappearing.

"You said anywhere as long as you're not there! So I'm going to the basement with Yujin! Plus you said the open door policy applies in my room!" She shouted, already going downstairs.

"You're going to get me killed." Yujin said while laughing.

"She's all bark no bite, plus you love me even when I'm trying to get you killed." Wonyoung answered cockily, stopping a step lower than Yujin.

"You're lucky you're right."

[worksby-gabriella]

Ours

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: The jury's out, but Y/N's choice is Eddie.

No specified gender for reader

A/N: I don't really love this, as I've said before. I'm goinna label it as a drabble but I'm probably gonna add more to it at some point soon when I actually KNOW WHAT TO FUCKING WRITE. 😄😭

Inspired by: Ours by Taylor Swift

Nancy is rambling on and on about something for the school paper in the journalism room, I wish I could listen and focus but instead I’m soaking up the stale morning air in the room. I spent the night with Eddie and I feel like that’s enough of an explanation on its own.  

  I’m reminiscing about last night’s venereal events when I’m snapped out of my haze by Nancy and Fred snapping their fingers at me, “Helloooo, earth to Y/N.”  

 I hear Nancy’s annoyed voice ring throughout the room, the silence is deafening.  

 I whip my eyes to hers as Fred joins into the conversation, “You were with the freak last night, weren’t you?”  

 His eyes look at me accusingly but I get defensive and ignore what he asked me, “Hey! Don’t call him that.”  

 I glance down at the typewriter I was working at, when I hear Nancy tsking and see her shaking her head slightly out of my peripheral vision.

 “What Nancy?” My voice comes out irritated because I know what she's getting at.  

 “I told you he’s a bad influence.”  She says in a mocking sing songy, I told you so tone.

 “I- What? N-” I start but Fred interrupts me.  

 “She’s got a point, you came in late today, you don't pay attention, you skip 4th period, and by the way we can see the hickey on your neck.”  

 I self-consciously tug up the neckline of my sweater, “That's not true, he just brings out a more contumacious side of me.”  

 “That's literally the definition of being a bad influence, Y/N.”  

 “Ugh. Not it’s not, he makes me more outgoing, I feel excited and giddy around him. Plus, I love him.” I stick out my tongue at my two friends and they lay off a bit, laughing at my childish antics.  

 Speaking of Eddie, I start to feel a sense of longing for him in this very moment. Ever since I’ve met him, I feel this constant sense of boredom when he's not around. He makes me feel alive and exhilarated. If he were here right now, we’d be laughing our asses off at everyone’s too serious expressions.  

 I feel myself smiling like an idiot at my thoughts, and glance up at the clock eager to see Eddie once again.  

 “Alright everyone, it’s 10:30! Time to wrap it up! For the long of God please make sure all your pieces have been written by tomorrow or principal Higgens will have my ass!” I yell out to everyone as they start packing up their stuff and heading out the door.  

 I’m one of the first to leave and as soon I exit the doors a pair of hands wraps around my waist, spinning me towards them. I come face to face with a smiley Eddie. My lips immediately separate and form a wide toothy grin. He pulls me closer as I laugh. Our noses are touching and he whispers, “There’s my little writer.” against my lips before giving me a quick peck on the lips.

 He pulls away as I say, “Well hello to you too, Mr. Munson.”  

 We start to walk down the Hall as he wraps a protective arm around my shoulder.

 “You know, sweetheart, I’m actually kind of digging this whole sexy teacher thing you have going on.”  

 “What do mean?” There’s a humorous tone in my voice.  

 “I was watching you through the window on the door. You’re all walking around revising people’s work, directing them, dismissing them.”  

 “You're crazy, Munson.”  

 “Only about you, Y/N, only about you. Almost makes me want to join the school paper.”

 I’m laughing and Eddie is watching me with a content smile. I notice people are watching me and him walk together. It’s not unusual for this to occur, when people found out about me and Eddie, they were nothing short of shocked. Hawkins High had an idea of me, an idea that couldn't be any more different than the idea they had of Eddie.  

 Their idea of me is very clean. I’m a good student, I get good grades, I abide by the rules, I’m innocent in every way possible, I’m soft, a people pleaser if you will. I’m nothing more than good. Their idea of Eddie is extremely tainted. He’s not the brightest, he’s a rule breaker, he’s a stoner, he’s rough, he simply didn’t care. Where they right? Perhaps they were but that doesn't mean someone like me can’t love Eddie, and that Eddie is crazy in every way. You know what they say, opposites attract.

 “They're staring again.”  

 “Hm, I guess they are.”  

 I hide my face in the crook of his arm not liking the attention.  

 “Well then let’s give them something to watch.” There’s a mischievous glint in his eye.  

 “Eddie-” 

  He cuts me off, kissing me once again, his lips move in sync with mine, and I can feel the tips of his tongue start to nudge my lip, asking for permission to enter my mouth. His hand moves down my shoulder to my waist, pulling me closer as we stop walking all together. I hear movement stop in the hallway and the nose level gets slightly more hushed. His hand travels back up my back and into the hair at the back of my head, twisting in my hair. One of my hands is grasping his bicep for leverage as the other holds my notebook. I let out a whimper, only quiet enough for to Eddie hear.  

 Before Eddie this wasn’t my thing, PDA that is, but since him, all I want is for him to act on his desires at any moment. It makes me giddy when I think about him wanting others to know about us, he wants poeple to know I'm his and he's mine. I think it's sweet, and like, insanely hot.

 He finally pulls away, leaving me to hope we’ll resume this rendezvous later, in private. His lips are ever so slightly smudge with my pink lip-gloss and I can just feel how swollen my lips are, “What were you saying?” He asks me, smugly.  

 I shake my head, moving his hand back to my shoulder, “real smooth, love.”  

 People carry on with their judgmental looks and Eddie knows it’s making me conscious because he tips my head up with his free hand, “Hey sweetheart, people only care so much because they love to be envious when others are happy. Or at least I hope your happy.”  

 He adds that last part to lighten the mood.

 “of course, you make me happy.”  

 He gives me a warm smile as I continue on, “People love to throw rocks at things that shine.”  

 “Exactly. And don’t you worry your pretty little mind because we are carrying on that little stunt later.” He winks at me pulling away, and slyly slaps my ass as we arrive at my next class.  

[missgeniality]

Head Over Feels (m)

➺ Banner: She always saves me, this gurl, @kithtaehyung​ 💛

➺ Pairing: Taehyung x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Established Relationship, Non-Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst(?)

➺ Rating: +18

➺ Word Count: 2.7k

➺ Summary: After-party Taehyung has some feelings to convey.

➺ Warnings: some jealously, kissing, spanking, fingering (female), unprotected sex, tame shtuff!

➺ Author’s Note: This is for my closest friend on here, @taegularities. Many many many happy returns of the day 💛 I know I'm not the best at spontaneous writing so this will be lacking, but I hope you can still enjoy this <3 From discussing real life issues to exchanging moles, you've been with me for the past 8-9 months, helping me every step of the way, and you deserve all the good in the world. I lub yew very much my dumb kitty cat <3

This is unedited, so please excuse any mistakes, I will come back and fix them soon! Please let me know what you think <3

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

“Are you mad?”

“Of course not babe.”

“Are you sure you’re not mad?”

“Yeah yeah.”

“Babe just tell me you’re mad.”

Taehyung sighs. “For the last time Y/N, I’m really not mad, you’ve asked me this all the way.”

“Because you look mad! Listen,” you’re trying to pacify him as you remove your accessories, “Jungkook is always flirtatious like that, okay? I couldn’t be rude to him, it’s his party!”

“And I never asked you to. Relax,” Taehyung walks into the bathroom without sparing you a second glance, but you hear his muffled voice complete the sentence, “I know what he’s like. It’s all good.”

You didn’t broach the topic any further.

“Okay fine, I am mad.”

Yes!The growling bear pretending to sleep beside you finally opens his heart, and you turn around and pounce on him. Wrapping him up in your tight embrace, you slowly adorn his naked torso with small, soft kisses.

“Why did you have to inject poison in the air for so long? Could have just told me what I already knew.”

Taehyung stares at the ceiling instead of connecting eyes with you, because what you said is the whole truth. He can’t hide his feelings too well, but his ego writes cheques that his manner can’t cash.

“Look at me,” you urge him, and he finally turns to you.

Even in the slight shine of the night lamp, his eyes glow, the mole under his monolid eye almost under a spotlight. His slightly long hair sweeps over the pillow, a pillow that you will hug dearly when he’s away for work, for it will smell of his sweet scent. His lips are slightly pouty, as though offended by your easy read on him. You move ahead to wipe the pout away, and he allows you.

Slowly, your lips find their rhythm against his, sliding with each other and making you giddy with love. Taehyung seems to be melting, because he slips his hand around your waist, and now the blockade of dense air that separated the two of you has melted, giving you unrestricted access to each other.

The tip of your tongue lightly caresses his lower lip, and you can feel him wrap his leg around you and pull you into him, parting his lips at the same time to let you deepen the kiss. It never gets rough, Taehyung’s tongue mingling with your own, each one of you finding your own way to go deeper. Your fingers sketch circles on the back of his neck, and you can just about feel the hair rising on the site. After a few seconds of you kissing his worries away, you pull back.

“Still mad?” You softly tap his nose, and he blinks wide-eyed, before going back to his smiley disposition that you had left him with after the kiss.

“No… Maybe.”

You look in question. “Maybe?”

“He just,” Taehyung sighs, “he rubbed me the wrong way, that’s all.”

“And you thought he would rub me the right way? Sorry,” you’re already regretting the words that left your foolhardy mouth, “this was terrible timing for that terrible joke.”

“It really was.”

“What did he actually do? I don’t even remember anything to upset you like this,” you giggle, completely ignoring what is festering inside your partner, “you’ve met worse assholes. Why are you so bothered by only Jungkook?”

The time it takes for Taehyung to move from your side, looking innocent and slightly grumpy, to jumping atop you with a sinister expression – unreal speeds.

“Don’t. Take. His name.”

He is not playing. One look in his blazing eyes and you can tell, Taehyung is genuinely furious.

Leaning down, he whispers into your ear, “I trust you, you know that right?”

One finger is hooking under the strap of your night dress, slowly pulling it down. He pauses midway to hear your answer, because in the heat of the happenings, your senses are lost. You give him a small nod, and he continues undressing you.

Moving to the other side, he hums, “And you know there’s nothing you could’ve done, right?”

“I, I do.”

“I’m just,” he breathes out over your naked torso, and you don’t know whether it's from the exasperation of the day or the sight of your undressed body, “I’m just dying to get his neck in my palm, and to just wring it.”

An ungainly snort from you shakes the bedding, and Taehyung looks up at you from the valley of your cleavage and gives up the most unassuming smile.

“And while you didn’t do anything wrong,” Something he does instantly, grabbing you by your hips and flipping you over, knocking the breath out of your chest, “that does not mean I have to play nice.”

“Taehyung, babe, come on–”

You can’t complete whatever that sentence was, because with one clean swoop your dress is away, and your now nude self feels the chill in the air, slightly numbing your senses. The chill is either from the outside weather slithering in, or from the frigid mood that Taehyung decided to set.

“You keep telling me its harmless banter,” Taehyung’s large, slender fingers grab the underside of your ass checks, spreading them apart, “I bet you thought I was being harmless when we met at that party, huh?”

Warmth blooms in your cheeks thinking of that night despite the shivers in your bones, and you shift your face in the pillow to respond.

“Your eyes are never harmless,” you softly reply.

The man does not respond, and when you gracelessly turn to prod for an answer, your muscles give out before completing the action – because Taehyung’s palm moves from gripping your glutes to placing a whip-like smack on your ass, the force of it jiggling your flesh for a good second. You suck in a breath between your teeth, the shooting pain working like an antidote to the coils of stress you were carrying all night.

“Babe…” you can barely whisper right, and that is truly the effect that Taehyung unleashes on you.

Smack!

You hiss again, ass rising in response to the spank, and Taehyung’s arms mould you to the position he wants you in, on your arms and knees; the next one hits you right in the center.

“Sshii– fuck,” your train of thought is just a melding of curses as he rains down two in succession, and when he takes a break, the only noises in the room are your heavy breathing, and his.

“Spread your legs for me love,” Taehyung simply utters, and you’re already too turned-on to question anything.

Even with your shut eyes, your years of togetherness can tell you where Taehyung moves just from the dip in bed. Today though, his movements aren’t the same. It is never like this, and you want to revisit the night to understand his mood.

But very soon you decide to slate that for another time, because you finally get to know what Taehyung’s plan is. In the form of his tongue licking the smarting skin on your back.

“You really,” Taehyung starts between kisses, “couldn’t see through his rushe,” the last word is slurred because his tongue took over. But he solidly pauses, to complete his statement. “Couldn’t see him undressing you with his stare, couldn’t tell his lewd attempts to get closer,” his fingertips dancing around your dewy core, “couldn’t even feel the crude smirks when he made you laugh,” he finishes with one more long lick across your tingling cheek.

Your cunt throbs hard when you feel the wetness soothe the irate flesh, begging to feel it against your own core. But he takes his time, alternating between soft kisses and swift swipes, and after what feels like an eternity, he gently pushes one finger in your slit – that one alone reaches places you can’t possibly dream to reach with your own lacking digits.

“I’m–I–I didn–”

“Yeah, yeah you didn’t.” Taehyung’s ability to modulate the depth of his voice is something you have enjoyed a lot in the past. But at this moment, he seems to be speaking from the base of his throat, the gravelly, throaty insinuations lighting your libido up, soon to be an uncontainable inferno. All because of him.

At his own, deathly slow pace, he pushes a second finger inside, and you groan against your forearm, your skeleton begging to stop holding your form up, but you persist – because something tells you a move out of place will be far more regretful.

Your walls can feel the cool metal ridges of his ring, and with every move in he curls his fingers perfectly, leaving you short-winded and craving for more. “You really believe he had innocent ideas when he pulled you away from the group? You think I didn’t see when he guided you across the room with his stupid tattoed arm around your waist? You think that was necessary, Y/N?”

“No, no ba–babe,” you breath is ragged, because your body is entirely uncoordinated, “listen, I really need more–”

“Shut up. My princess here needs to open her eyes more,” he continues nonchalantly, not a word out of pitch even though his fingers are working their magic to wind you up, “doesn't she? She reads my eyes like a child's book, but can't read a stranger's actions. Tsk, so plain in sight. " His digits curl inward and you see stars, no, entire planets looming over you, readying themselves to crash into you any moment now.

You muffle your scream by biting your pillow, but it hardly helps, because Taehyung clearly loves to hear you struggle.

"P–please, he’s just some gu–babe… I nee–oh I need–"

"You need what," he spat out with such force, the same force with which he took away his fingers, ending his session of toying with you. You have real tears, left hanging on the precipice of an orgasm, and before you can grab your bearings, you are flipped and Taehyung takes his place back on top of you.

"You need that fucking dick?" A wave of goosebumps dress your body when you see the sin written on his face, as he practically roars his anger on your face. "What do you want babe, do you want him here? I'm my place? Playing with your-"

Before he completes that dastardly sentence, you place the full stop the best way known to man. You raise your torso and kiss him, hard, almost knocking your foreheads together with the forward force. Unlike the previous moment with your intertwined lips, this exchange has more fight, more friction, way more heat – when your fingers intertwine with his, you don’t know; when your legs wrap around his waist, you don’t know; when he slips his tongue in and gains control of his kiss, you haven’t a fucking idea.

Taehyung digs his teeth into a corner of your lower lip, hard enough for you to feel the indent when he relents – you take this opportunity to make yourself very, very clear.

“I need you. I want you, I don’t want some dick, I want this fucking dick.”

There’s a split second when the deafening silence threatens to consume you, the absence of any action after everything that brings you a sensory deprivation – but soon Taehyung recovers, and only whispers three simple words.

“Then take it.”

With the negligence to prepare you for this, any other day you would require a minute to adjust, because Taehyung is big. He’s usually considerate enough to take his time, easing in slowly, but today the devil that took over him doesn’t bother with pedantic formalities. The action shoots you off the bed, body trying to find a formation that will make this more comfortable, but Taehyung’s hands keep you firm in place.

“Everytime you think of tonight, I want you to see this,” his malevolent whisper terrorizes your ear as he pulls out slowly, just to slam in again, “not a party. Not a hundred people. Not Jung-fucking-kook. Here. This. You,” another pump in, and it hit you at the exact spot that was teased a while ago, making you wail out to the ceiling, “and I.”

You wonder if those words are meant for you or for himself, but wondering was a chore right now and you’d rather just gratefully take the fucking you got. Placing a palm on his shoulder, you briefly break his momentum, just to move your legs from around his waist to over his shoulders.

“Make me,” you present him with the challenge.

His devilish smirk only shows acceptance.

Body folded in half, you can just lay there and take the unyielding thrusts Taehyung endows you, his force not faltering for a second. Your moans turn into groans, coming from deeper parts of your chest and evoking higher pitches from you. Taehyung’s hands lay on either side of your face, and he thrusts into you with renewed vigour. You are possibly screaming into his ear, but you have no coherent collection of space because he has sent you hurling into your orgasm.

It is free-fall, recovery from this feeling. Like a black-hole warping your sensation, a weight pulling you lower and lower. You know you’re recovering from it when your back can finally feel the bedding, and your chest can feel the weight of a finished, and now very tired Kim Taehyung. His cum has made a mess of your pussy and the sheets below, but for now, neither of you have the energy to care.

“You okay?” You bring your hand to caress his mop of hair, lightly tugging to have him meet your eyes. There is some reluctance, but finally when he gets out of the nook of your neck, you see it. Some regret. Some reproach. Some worry. He opens his mouth to utter some version of “I’m fine” but you interrupt him.

“I love you. So much. I’m not sure what prompted this, and I know you’re not one to do this without cause, but I would feel much happier if you told me. I’m not forcing you, but I’d like it.”

Taehyung smiles, and rids his mind of any empty falsities he was going to give you. Balancing himself on one arm, he brings his other hand to adjust the stray tresses on your forehead, and after a huge sigh, he begins.

“I met him in the restroom. I was already put off, but it wasn’t terrible. He was trying to make small talk, and I was playing along – but he really had the audacity to say ‘Keep her well, or else… Someone else might’ – and he fucking smirked! That bitch, said that with his whole chest. Like I don’t know who this ‘someone else’ is. Dickwad.” Taehyung’s blood is boiling, but he comes back down to wrap you in his arms, and you can sense his pulse lowering.

But you, on the other hand, are absolutely flabbergasted. “Why would Jungkook even say that? I can't imagine what his reason was...”

“You’re so…” Taehyung starts, giving you a small smile, “He clearly likes you.”

“Jungkook! No fuckin’ way,” you bring your hand up to wave every sliver of that thought away, but Taehyung grabs it and covers it with his own palm.

“Again, I wonder how you read me so well, but you can’t see someone hovering around you. Tonight he was like Callisto to your Jupiter, if Callisto wanted Jupiter’s attention at all times.”

You snicker at his description, and you still can’t bring yourself to believe it, but for tonight, you can shelve the topic. After all, there are more important things to drown yourself in.

“Why would I go around reading some rando’s eyes,” wrapping your arm around Taehyung’s neck, you softly whisper, “when my baby’s eyes tell me everything I need for a lifetime of happiness?”

You finally see Taehyung’s happiness scale go up, his chiseled jaw fading away with the rise of his cheekbones and plumping of his cheeks. Seeing him smile like that, the last few knots of tension that laid siege to your body vanish, and you feel at ease. Happy, content and at ease.

“I love you.” He lightly kisses your lips.

“I love you too.”

Thank you for making it to the end! For more of my writing, find my masterlist here. As always, thoughts and feedbacks are greatly appreciated!

[phantomspiderr]

Sticky Notes

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Summary: Wanda leaves little love notes for you to find while she's away

Word Count: 753

Warnings: little hints of smut

(not my gif)

･☆: *.☽ .* :☆

I love you. You read over the sticky note stuck right in the middle of the mirror, smiling to yourself when you see the little red heart at the bottom of the note.

Even though she’s already probably thousands of miles away on yet another mission Wanda still somehow manages to make you smile.

She’d left late last night way after you’d fallen asleep so you assume she must have done this before she left. The small act of kindness makes you feel all giddy inside. You take another moment to admire her handwriting before getting on with your morning routine.

-

I am so proud of you. You find another sticky note stuck to your water bottle in the fridge and you feel your eyes sting a little. Wanda regularly reminds you of just how proud of you she is and you can almost hear her say it as you read over the words again.

You take the note from the bottle and hold it close to your chest as you grab your bottle and close the fridge. You have a pep in your step on the way to the compound gym, feeling better about having an intense training session with Steve this morning.

-

You make me the happiest I've ever been. Your fingers brush along the beautiful cursive on yet another sticky note, this one hidden away in the book you kept on your bedside. You laugh to yourself muttering, "how many of these did you hide?"

You remove the note from its place, moving it to the other page so you can continue your reading while simultaneously thinking of other places to look for more sweet notes from your beloved.

-

You look so pretty. So beautiful. The words accompanied with a cute little smiley face makes your own face burst into a huge grin. It's almost as if you can hear her say the words again, thoughts of her hands moving across your body. Your mind moves to more sinful memories of Wanda's lips kissing down your thighs, muttering those same words.

"Y/N, you ready to go?" Natasha pops her head around the door and immediately you slam the drawer you'd found the note in, closed. Natasha furrows her brow at you, curious as to why you slammed it quite so hard.

"Mhm, just coming."

-

abia aștept să-mi gem numele mereu. Why did she have to write this one in Sokovian? And why did you ask Pietro to translate it instead of just googling it?

You're still cringing after hearing Pietro laugh before translating the words in English, "it means can't wait to have you moaning my name over and over."

Your face is still hot from all his teasing that came after that and you're now contemplating just how to get Wanda back for that awkward exchange.

-

Can't believe you're all mine. You can't seem to stay mad at her when you keep finding sweet notes scattered in only places you would find them. You're sure by this point she wrote a whole sticky note pad worth of notes as you add this one to the ever-growing pile on your dresser.

Your fingers flick through the notes to glace at others you'd found earlier in the week. Thank you for loving me. You have my whole heart. moya rodstvennaya dusha (my soulmate). Seeing the words makes you miss her a little more, your heart constricting for a moment.

-

"Just how many did you write?" You rest your chin in your palm, finally comfortable laying in bed with your girlfriend again.

"Oh, only about fifty," she shrugs as her fingers brush along your jaw and her eyes scan across your face.

"Only?!" Your eyes go wide and Wanda giggles, leaning closer she captures your lips with her own, it's only a peck and it has you chasing after her lips.

"I have one more for you," you pull your face back with a curious look. You watch as Wanda uses one swipe of her hand to move her jacket from the other side of the room into her lap, the same hand reaching into her pocket. A familiar pink sticky note is placed in your open hands, writing side down. You tilt your head confusingly and Wanda just smiles, a mischievous glint in her eye. You squint your eyes at her as you turn the note over, eyes finally falling on the words.

I want to be with you for the rest of my life.

[the-evil-authoress]

GX Month Week 1 “Happy Birthday!”

Knocked out most of this today, so it’s probably got typos but HERE YA GO

***

Bright sunlight illuminates the room from behind the curtains when Jaden wakes up. He is alone in the bed but that’s a given at this point; the other two actually get up in the morning. Yubel hums with a quiet excitement in the back of his brain as he rolls out of bed.

‘Do you know what today is?’

Uhhh Thursday?

‘Friday. And that’s not what I meant.’

Yeah if I don’t know what day of the week it is, I definitely don’t know the date.

Yubel huffs, little tremors from their wings ghosting over their shoulders to signify her annoyance. She still feels excited about something.

Two weeks ago, Jaden had been shot backwards in time to team up with a young Yugi and a man from the future to stop a time traveling maniac from erasing their timeline, and he’s been…anxious ever since. Like he’s waiting for the next threat to come looming over him, because disaster always seems to find him and everyone around him.

‘Stop that.’

Jaden scowls as Yubel puts the breaks on that train of thought and redirects it to the back of their mind. Regardless, that sense of foreboding has hit him straight in the insomia, hence why it is apparently two in the afternoon and he’s only just rolled out of bed. He cracks open the small fridge in their hotel room, expecting to have to cook his own breakfast - shortly into their globe trotting, Jesse insisted on acquiring a portable stove top, frying pan, and pot because “we’re not livin’ off fast food and take out” - but instead finds an omelet wrapped in plastic with his name on it and a winky smiley face that looks distinctly of Christina’s design. He smiles at the painstakingly neat katakana.

Should show him how to write my real name someday, Jaden thinks idly as he pulls the plastic off to pop the omelet in the microwave.

‘I thought you preferred Jaden.’ He feels Yubel’s curiosity almost as if it was his own.

I do… There’s a ‘but’ in there, although Jaden can’t put the feeling into words. Thankfully with Yubel he usually doesn’t have to.

‘Would you prefer if I started calling you that as well?’

The question startles him and he realizes he doesn’t have an immediate answer. It’s not something he ever thought about, not something he ever questioned. He has very few good memories of that name anymore, but-

“No. I like it when you say it.”

‘My Judai.’

Jaden snorts. “My Yubel.”

The amount of love and care radiating from her still catches him off guard and sometimes makes him want to run and hide (and he’s very glad he can’t feel all of his friends’ affection like this), but he’s learning to accept it, all of it, and how to love himself.

Life lessons no one ever teaches you until its too fucking late.

“So you gonna tell me what’s so special about today?” Jaden changes the topic as he returns to the bed with his food. “You’re giddy and it’s kinda weird.”

There’s a spark of indignation at that and a half formed thought somewhere along the lines of not needing a reason to be happy, but instead Yubel tells him, ‘Check your phone.’

“My phone?” Jaden glances at the device sitting on the bedside table. He’s still getting used to having the device. Sure, Duel Academy had their own PDAs issued to students, but it turns out those devices had surprisingly limited functionality compared to actual cell phones. Jaden’s still figuring out how to use it beyond basic calls and texting. Yubel’s not much help either considering the last time she interacted with society it’d basically been the stone age. At least Jesse’s just as confused as they are.

He finds a dozen new messages and a couple of voice mails, and his heart leaps into his throat because the last time his friends sent him this many messages, reality was literally crumbling. The row of hearts, party poppers, and cakes is unexpected. Atticus didn’t include any words in the message and Jaden doesn’t know what occasion would call for quite that many sparkles and confetti. Yubel giggles, and Jaden has the distinct feeling that he should.

Yubel asked if he knew what day it was when he woke up, and now Jaden looks at the date stamped at the top corner of the screen. 31st. The end of the month? So what? Why is that special?

‘What month is it?’ Yubel prompts.

“August…?”

…OH!

Yubel is full out cackling now and the sound spills out of Jaden’s own lips with the force of her glee. “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles but doesn’t bother hiding the smile or the warmth in his chest as he scrolls through an inbox full of birthday wishes and ‘wish i could be there!’s from his friends. This time last year they’d been in a park strewn with decorations. This year they’re all in different corners of the globe. It’s unlikely they’ll all be able to be in the same place again any time soon, but it’s okay. This is enough.

‘Oh there’s more.’

Two voice messages, yes, and Jaden’s willing to bet one of them is Atticus singing Happy Birthday since he can’t do it in person. (He’s right). The other is from Alexis and he can’t quite describe the feeling the sound of her voice evokes. It’s a gentler sort of warmth.

“I’m probably calling way too early for where you are, but I wanted to make sure I got the chance. Happy birthday, Jaden! I hope you’re having a good day even though we can’t be there this time. Knowing those two, you won’t even miss us.” Her soft laugh sounds too much like static over the speaker.

He does, though, miss them.

“Take care of yourself, or at least let the others take care of you, and call me sometime okay?” A pause, and then, “Love you.”

He drops the phone.

He drops the phone and buries his face in their hands as his heart does some weird gymnastics in their chest and there’s no reason for it! It’s hardly the first time. Jaden’s been exchanging casual ‘I love you’s with most of his friends for the past three years. Although Alexis had (understandably now that he looks back on it) reacted with shock the first time he’d mumbled it half asleep, even she and Jaden had exchanged the occasional, casual ‘love you’.

It means something different now. Except it doesn’t because they never decided that. But they had talked, a lot, before graduation as Jaden rediscovered himself and ultimately decided let’s see where it goes. Nothing more nothing less. A simple exchange of whatever felt right in the moment, no labels, no expectations. So it doesn’t mean anything different.

But it feels different.

He finally pulls his face out of their hands as Yubel complains about missing the last of the message. He doubts there was anymore to it, but he saves it to listen again later just in case. Yubel feels just a touch too smug about that, but thankfully doesn’t press the matter. For a bonafide aroace, she cares an awful lot about Jaden’s love life. Given their current form, it is understandable. Still annoying.

The telltale trill of a carbuncle heralds Jesse and Christina’s return, and Ruby nuzzles into Jaden’s lap as the hotel room door opens. Jesse holds a plain white box in his hands while a concerningly large shopping bag hangs off Christina’s arm.

Oh no.

“Jaden!” she calls, and Ruby scampers away as Christina crosses the room with far too much glee to upend the bag over his lap. Several brightly wrapped packages tumble out and leave Jaden effectively sitting in a pile of presents. He breathes deeply and tells himself under no uncertain terms that he is not going to cry.

“Christina!” Jesse yelps, but he’s laughing. “I hope none of those were breakable.”

Christina still looks far too pleased with herself. “They’re fine! Birthday boys should be showered in gifts!”

“I didn’t see ya dumping a bag of presents on my head.”

“If you’re jealous, I can do that next year~” Christina presses a kiss to Jesse’s cheek as he sets the box on the table, both of them giggling quietly. It’s adorable. Then Jesse pulls a cake out of the box.

“Would’ve made one myself but-” He nods at the table that acts as their kitchen. “-no oven.”

“It’s fine.” Scooching the presents aside so he can get up, Jaden laces clawed hands behind his back and leans over Jesse’s shoulder to get a better look at the cake. “Strawberries!” It’s a simple round cake with white frosting that looks somehow different than normal frosting, topped with strawberries and Happy Birthday Jaden in elegant calligraphy.

“Little birdie told me they’re your favorite.” Jesse grins.

Jaden nuzzles the side of his face before giving into the urge to nip Jesse’s jaw. Jesse jolts but thankfully seems more surprised than afraid.

“Aim for neck next time. He makes the best expression.”

“Chris!” A flush rises to Jesse’s face, and Jaden leans back to look at Christina, smirking at them from where she stole his spot on the bed.

“Yeah, that’s your job, not mine.” He matches her smirk for smirk.

“Honestly, you two…” Jesse shakes his head as he cuts and plates three pieces of cake.

“You love us!” Jaden steals the piece with the biggest strawberry and absconds to join Christina on the bed. She pouts at him for not bringing her a piece for all of the minute it takes Jesse to bring her a plate and sit down with his own. The odd frosting isn’t frosting at all but whip cream. There’s strawberry filling between the layers and the cake itself is marbled vanilla and strawberry. Jaden squeals softly and downs the rest before bouncing up for seconds.

“So what’s the plan?” he asks, nestling himself between his best friends again.

“Don’t really have one.” Christina shrugs, savoring the cake much slower.

“You always have a plan.”

Christina nudges one of her strawberries onto Jaden’s plate. “Atticus planned the last two. And before that I’d just show up and drag you home with me.”

True. They never really had much of a plan back then beyond cake, presents, and doing whatever they wanted. A few times they went to the arcade, but mostly they played games and watched movies like every other day. Feels a bit like they’ve come full circle.

“So what do ya wanna do?” Jesse bumps his shoulder. “You’re in charge today. If ya wanna be.”

If he wants. The sentiment is a needed relief, and Jaden makes a show of scrunching up his face in thought. “Presents,” he declares. “Then more cake.”

“You’re gonna make yourself sick.”

“I don’t wanna hear that from you, miss-extra-whip-extra-fudge-triple-shot mocha,” Jaden shoots back and Jesse nearly chokes on the cake as he tries not spit it out laughing.

“One time!” Christina protests. “Triple was way too much coffee. I only get double now.”

“Only,” Jesse wheezes.

‘You’re going to make me sick,’ Yubel chides but there’s no heat to it. She’s not overly fond of sweet things and Jaden’s taste buds have shifted accordingly with their fusion, but that just makes the mild, slightly tart flavors of the whip cream and fruit perfect.

Twisting around, Jaden snags one of the packages and - for no other reason than he wants to - shakes it violently. To his delight, it rattles.

The bed ends up covered in shreds of colorful paper, and Jaden does in fact eat enough cake to feel mildly sick, but it’s a good day. Sandwiched between his oldest friends with good food and good movies, any day could be a good day.

Yeah. This is enough.

[hwajin]

𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 — #! : hhj

genre: very very soft smut, fluff, a bit of angst

pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader

wc: 1.2k

listen to: euphoria - bts

warnings/ note: mentions of insecurities! this is the cheesiest fic i'v ever written and i've cried writing this. (i'm sorry missing hyunjin hours don't even end now they're permanent)

based off this request

not my pics, credits to owner!

Hyunjin’s lips on your own sweaty and bruised ones came crashing down passionately, with a sort of loving force that caused you to furrow your brows and intertwine your fingers with the males dark, damp locks that slightly started falling out of the bun he messily knotted earlier. You didn’t dare to let go, didn’t dare to inch away from your boyfriend who was currently hovered atop of you, simply because you were scared to lose him, that he somehow might disappear right before your eyes, that he might leave you empty and alone. And though you knew your fear was irrational you nevertheless pulled his body even closer, even nearer to your own, wanting to feel every curve of his, ever dump and mound and line. You wanted, needed to imprint him in the depths of your mind.

After a while, mostly to catch some breath again, Hyunjin pulled away, his eyes finding you as quickly as his lips found yours moments prior. You looked up at him, none of you even blinking as you took in the sight of each other. Hyunjin was sweaty, small droplets of perspiration collecting itself in the groove between his nose and his plump upper lip. He was breathing heavily, mouth parted, causing you to feel the clouds of hotness on your skin. You sensed that he wanted to say something, that he needed you to know what was going on in his mind, but he hesitated. If you thought about it he looked distressed in general, too nervous, to hectic, different than his usual behavior, more vulnerable than his usual self. He only looked at you, his hips – that were connected with yours right at your cores – continued to move in a slow rhythm, and mixed with his dark, affectioned eyes that pierced through you, you nothing but shivered in his hold. Deciding to comfort him your warm hands wandered across the back of his head, massaging Hyunjin’s scalp the way he loved it so much, proceeding to caress his shoulders and arms, softly, carefully to not make any wrong movements. Your boyfriend watched your arms as they went, and you saw the sudden blush on his face the moment your palms stopped at his arms to give them loving squeezes. You took account of the way he suddenly seemed scared to hold eye contact, how Hyunjin converted his eyes away from you, looking down in an somewhat embarrassed manner. You frowned your brows, your fingers finding his chin to pull his face up a little, so your eyes were connected once again.

“What is it baby?”

Your voice was more controlled than you thought it’d be, giving your question more weight, more secureness. Hyunjin’s body stiffened, noticeable so, and you saw small, cold bumps on the skin of his neck. He was nervous. You couldn’t blame him, though. You’ve been apart for a while, and making love after such a long time felt like the first time all over again. But this was different. He wasn’t giggly, he wasn’t all smiley and giddy and the nervousness he portrayed was a rather negative one. You gave him an encouraging look, signaling him that there was nothing he couldn’t tell you. The boy shuffled a bit, eyes looking everywhere but your own. You let him, not forcing him to hold the contact.

“It’s just- I know it’s stupid but- I haven’t really been… working out while we were apart, but I wanted to so you won’t be, you know, disappointed when you see me again but- I couldn’t really find the motivation or time, so now I- I know I’m not in the best form, I’m sorry.”

You listened to your boyfriend thoroughly, taking in everything he said with scrunched brows and a frown on your face. You knew he tended to get caught up in his mind, but it pained you to hear him talk like this about himself. You palmed his cheeks, slightly shifting his face towards yours so he was looking at you, his expression cutting into your heart at how unsure and sad he looked. You smiled at him, hoping to get him warmed up, to get him more relaxed, more trusted with you again. Your hands traced a way down his neck and shoulders a second time, stopping right before his arms, looking up at him determined. You sat up and leaned into him, his body, placing your damp lips on the lines of muscles on Hyunjin’s arms, giving them loving squeezes occasionally. Your tongue wandered along the path of kisses you created, biting down from time to time, nibbling on his skin to paint marks on the places he was most insecure about. After a while you fell back against the softness of the pillows again, looking up at your lover, his eyes big, slight confusion laying within them.

“You know I don’t care about that, Hyun. You’re perfect. You’re always perfect. And I’ll always love you.”

It was hard to overhear the sincereness in your voice, impossible for Hyunjin to not believe the words you have just spoken. His cheeks, ears and neck tinted a slight pink, a quiet, shy chuckle escaping his throat before he buried his face in your neck. You couldn’t hold back a smile yourself, loving the way your boyfriend finally loosened up a bit. You let your fingers entangle in his hair again, playing with the strands, pulling out the hair tie eventually since it was of little use anyways. The sudden feeling of Hyunjin’s teeth on your skin elicited a subtle moan out of you, his smirk that followed afterwards – that you very well felt against you – making you blush flustered.

“You’re perfect baby.”

It was only a mumble, Hyunjin’s voice as quiet as ever, and you were surprised that you could hear the words at all, but you chuckled at them as they were no help at all in cooling down the heat on your face. Hyunjin looked up at you again, eyes filled with a love so genuine, so passionate, so honest you knew you’d never find again if not in him. Hyunjin’s fingers danced across your face, his thumb drawing circles on your cheek, his palm squeezing the side of your throat in a manner similar to the one you had before, as if he was scared you could slip out his hands every second.

“You’re so perfect baby. I love you. I love you so much.”

And with that, as if to accentuate his words, Hyunjin crashed his lips onto yours again, snapping his hips against yours deeply, sensually, adapting a perfectly slow rhythm that drove you closer towards the edge than you’d want to admit. You whined out, the closeness, the safeness, all the things you felt for Hyunjin right this moment, hand in hand, connected with the only person you learned to love mindlessly, got your heart beating immensely quick. You moved your hips against Hyunjin’s, noises of pleasure leaving his mouth as well, his breath still hot against your lips as the kiss got messier, movements sloppier. You were in cloud nine, above that even, and in that moment you promised yourself to stick beside him, for the rest of your life, and to never let go off him. Unaware that Hyunjin shared your thoughts, in just the same moment, as if you were connected in a way only soulmates were.

“God, I missed you so much, so so much.”

It was unclear of who exactly has spoken those words, two people becoming one, sharing one mind, and the room got hot, filled with only the sounds of love, of praise, an exchange of phrases so pure, so tender it was impossible to not be real.

tagging: @etherealeeknow @linoskitty @unexceptional-h @sukizu @diue @es-kay-zee @urcracksisx @jeyelleohe @yunkiwii @anxiousbobatea @hanjiswaq @nyrasneedy @seochhj @some-weeb-chick

[cheelduh]

How to get Hit-listed by a Stonehide Lawachurl (High School AU!)

Part 6 of the highschool au

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Synopsis: Childe’s a menace to everyone when playing dodgeball. Even as his new girlfriend, you’re no exception to his affinity for raising hell during the most tranquil of circumstances.

Warnings: Swearing, bad humor, and absolutely horrid spelling mistakes.

Words: 5.3k

Note: Longest chapter yet sheeeesh 🗿

Negotiation is an art.

Childe, or "Tartaglia" has utilized the art of negotiations in his daily life. Whether that be scamming the ninth graders with fake weed, or convincing the teachers why he doesn't deserve detention for injecting random fluids from the chem department into the school's resident pet frog.

All in all, by becoming an expert in the field of negotiations, Childe is nothing if not a master, tongue silver and smooth as he takes on a new opponent.

Which is why he dutifully negotiates with you on this Monday morning in front of the History classroom, getting down on one knee and pulling out a—

"I hope to Barbatos you aren't proposing Childe," You hiss, panicked eyes landing on the velvet box he's pulling out. "Considering that we're sixteen and still in highschool."

As if remembering those meagre details, Childe gulps and shoves the box back into his pocket. "Uhhh yeah, I was just, tying my shoelaces?" It comes out as a question.

You let out a sigh of relief, overlooking how he undoes his shoe laces just to do them all over again.

The ring burns in his pocket as he gets back up.

"Why did you call me here?" You ask, hand on your hip, foot impatiently tapping. The tap tap tap isn't because of impatience though, it's because you need something to cover the nervous palpitations of your heart.

He gives you a vicious smile, sinister enough to shake the bones of anyone who's observing, opens his daring mouth to show the imaginary sharpness of his teeth. Then with the confidence of about a hundred shirtless tiktok boys, he finally demands:

"If you don't become my girlfriend, I will kill—"

"Yeah sure thing." You answer before he can finish, soft smile growing.

Childe chuckles evilly, "I knew you'd say that, but I've come prep—wait a minute." He snaps out of his villain origin phase, stumbles back a bit, then his eyebrows are furrowing in confusion. "Did you just say yes?"

You nod, cheeks flaring up. "Don't make me repeat it." Then you look away, too embarrassed to see his reaction.

For a second, Childe's internal conflict following the chain of this event causes him to temporarily malfunction, and all he can do it stare at you in amazement.

It's only when you tell him to stop staring and jump off the school roof is when he snaps out of his daze, a grin festering on his face.

He lunges straight at you, giving you no time to deflect him as he wraps his bone crushing arms around you, then lands a soft smooch on your forehead.

"Let go of me you idiot!" You barely wheeze out, light headed not only because of your lungs being squeezed like oranges, but also because of the sloppy kiss he's delivered so ungracefully.

He does so reluctantly, and you're unamused, wiping the stickiness off your forehead with a sleeve as he steps back.

"Ew what the fuck?" You say, glaring at him. "What's wrong with you?"

He completely ignores you, giddy with excitement. "Ah girly, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do that. I can't wait to introduce you to my parents and eat lunch together and kiss each other during break—"

"Slow down." You tell him, as red as a tomato towards all his suggestions. "We've barely started dating."

"Oh," Childe stops momentarily, then nods in agreement. "You're right. We should start small. How about I walk you to class?"

"We're already in front of class." You nudge your head towards the classroom, and catch Zhongli and Venti peeking from the side of the door, trying not to be obvious.

You narrow your eyes at them threateningly.

Childe tugs your arm, lovingly looking you up and down. "Let's walk to class together anyways. In a circle."

A complete waste of time, yet it's impossible to say no to the face he's making.

Before you guys depart he suddenly stops, gasping loudly, remembers something important. "I have to make a quick phone call."

Childe speed dials Scaramouche, and the latter picks up annoyed, answers the phone with muffled sounds in the back. Something that sounds a bit like pleading and whimpering.

He then mutters something that forces dread into your system. "You can release the hostages."

You hear Scaramouche groan on the other end, muttering a "such a pain in my ass", but choose not to question it immediately.

As soon as the phone call is done and you're back by his side, you point at his phone questioningly. "What hostages Childe?"

He gives you a close eyed smile, taking the fifth.

"What hostages Childe?" You repeat again weakly.

—

First period goes by smoothly for the most part. Lisa, your so called best friend, once again is bought off like a corrupted politician by your new boyfriend. She sits far away from you, leaving you without any defences against the menace that dotes on you a bit too much.

Throughout class, all Childe does is score Venti's colourful pens, and then writes you annoying little love notes, using the expert origami skills he's learnt from Anthon to deliver them to you.

Despite the threat of distraction these notes pose, the corners of your lips can't help but tug upwards at his enthusiasm and attempt at poetry.

Zhongli makes sure not to ask you two any questions the entire class, leaving you to your own accord.

Lunch comes around soon enough, and your usual table of Diluc, Jean, Kazuha, and Lisa is disturbed by the torpedo that is Childe, and he brings collateral with him.

Kaeya whole-heartedly ceases the opportunity to sit near his stoic statue of a brother purely with the intention to annoy the premature crap out of him, but one look from the redhead sends the chicken-shit right back where he came from.

When Childe forcefu—lovingly feeds you the smiley fries and dinosaur nuggets his stunning mom packed him, Diluc looks just about ready to hurl.

Lisa winks at you two, Kazuha doesn't even bother looking, and Jean tries with upmost effort to keep Diluc from launching himself at the whipped fatui boy basking in your attention.

"Quit embarrassing me." You whisper-exclaim sharply, noticing how Jean passes Diluc—all green in the face, a puke bag discreetly. "Shouldn't you be doing something illegal right now? Or vaping in the stalls?"

"I quit vaping for you girlie." Childe boops your nose with his finger. "Well, at least full time. I still need a puff when I'm around Signora, to like, get rid of her awful vibes."

While it is endearing how he quit vaping for you, it doesn't lessen the need for you to bury yourself alive right here and now.

Then you sigh, pick up a Dino nuggie, and shove it in his mouth, the tip of his tongue flicking your finger. You die inside.

"There, you happy?" The action of feeding him is so...intimate, it sets your heart aflame.

Childe's a lovesick puppy when he chews, imaginary tail wagging a hundred times a second. "Can I have a kiss too?"

Diluc slams his hands on the table and stands up, hurriedly picks up his grape juice and makes a break for it. You don't blame him.

"I'll kill you." You smack him with a napkin, blazing red. "I'll end your pathetic little life right here and now."

By the end of lunch, Lisa and Jean have to restrain you so you don't break the world record for the maximum amount of mutilations that can be done on a single body.

Fourth period is a break. A break from Childe you mean. It's expected of the school's resident bad boy aka menace to skip classes in order to skip over the bodies of his victims.

You bask in the momentary peace, until it's disrupted by a tap on the window. Reckon it's nothing, maybe a bird flew into it, because intentional taps are impossible from the third floor. Except your conviction is hindered yet again by another tap.

What a nuisance.

You finally turn to look outside the window, face down, and spot Childe waving incessantly, rocks in hand, oozing with excitement that can't be concealed and a grin that nearly takes you into cardiac arrest. Without meaning to, you send him a small smile, waving back as Baal drones on about quantum superposition.

Successful in gaining your attention, he moves aside to reveal the hefty corpse of a stonehide lawachurl with a destructive path in its wake. The ridges and bumps of its hide are enough to do a number on the road, ruining the school's playing field.

Your smile drops down into a horrified frown in the span of a few seconds.

"Wow." Albedo, your lab partner whispers from next to you, for the first time distracted in class.

"Yeah," Kaeya whistles from behind you two, one hand supporting his head. "What a gesture."

"Y/N, I'd be grateful if you could possibly obtain a black crystal horn for me from the specimen." The blonde asks, entranced by the corpse that your boyfriend is flaunting off to you with pride.

"Aren't those things endangered cutie?" Lisa makes sure to butt in, as per usual.

Yes. Your boyfriend with several issues and an affinity for chaos brought you the corpse of an endangered geo-infused creature that's five times the size of him. During school hours too, the fiend. Like a cat dragging the corpse of a dead mouse to its owner.

You groan into your hands, heart racing while the fire is coursing through your veins.

That idiot.

—

Childe is exceptional at a lot of things, like the switch and making weapons out of seemingly harmless things (e.g shiv out of a toothbrush), but what he prides in the most is physical education. With washboard abs, uber tall height, and a dickish smile to top it all, he has everything it takes to showcase his top tier athletic abilities.

He pounces at the opportunity to show off in front of you, wanting nothing more than to have you fawn over his strength. He's sure it'll be enough to have you all over him, wrapping your cute little arms around his muscled ones, passing him his water bottle and dabbing away at the sweat on his forehead. Most of all, he daydreams you planting your soft lips on his to congratulate him after a big game.

Physical education, for you, is a pain. You may be good with your brain, but games exert more energy than necessary, and coordination that lacks logic entirely. You're just here for the credit. The over-achiever part of you walks the extra mile to ensure a grade in the high nineties.

Although witnessing Childe clad in the school shorts and matching polo shirt is enough to make this worth your while, you'll die before admitting it. Especially when he gawks at you as if it's the first time you're wearing the sports uniform yourself. It has you fidgeting with your fingers and tugging your shorts down nervously.

You try not to flip him off like you usually do, especially since it's not even been twenty four hours since he's asked you out.

Mr.Zhongli blows a whistle, calling all the students over to surround him. It's odd that he teaches most of the subjects at this school, seemingly the only adult present, but no one questions it in fear of genshin logic. Moving on, he explains that you have a dodge ball game today.

Lisa groans beside you. She hates anything that requires the exertion of energy, oftentimes bringing a book to read while everyone else screams in the background.

You're relieved, mainly because Childe and Tohma are usually captains, and Childe always picks you to be on his team as a means to flex his skills. For you, it means sitting back and watching him carry your team towards a straight A.

However, all your dreams are crushed when Zhongli announces the team leaders.

"Y/N, I trust that you'll lead the blue team to the upmost of your ability. Childe, prepare to lead the opposing red team."

Your knees shake as you stare at him in disbelief. "But Sir—"

"No buts Y/N." He scolds you lightly, checking off your names on the clip board. "I'd like to witness your exceptional leadership skills."

In reality, Zhongli just wants to reenact a lovers-on-opposing sides trope, wanting to see how the two of you crack under the pressure. In a way, it is an exercise of leadership.

Instead of picking teams, Zhongli assigns teams for the both of you according to his own judgement, trying to make it as fair as possible.

Lisa pats your back after your teammates are assigned, trying to cheer you up. "It's going to be okay. You guys are dating now, so he'll go easy on you."

You look up to meet Childe's eyes from across the court. He gives you a charming smile, which turns downright barbaric as he lifts up a thumb and motions to slash his neck with it. Then he wickedly mouths "I'm going to destroy you."

You blink and turn away as fast as you can in fear. "We're fucked."

Lisa, witnessing the entire ordeal nods alongside you, doing nothing to reassure you because she herself has given up.

Suddenly a hand lands on your shoulder gripping you tightly. "Let's wipe the floor with that g*nger." The voice is ice cold, threatening enough to send a shiver down your bones.

You turn to meet Rosaria, who frowns at you. Most of the time she doesn't really put an effort in dodgeball, but she must've seen your crestfallen expression, trying to comfort you in her own detached way.

Rosaria is the other school nurse in training, alongside Barbara, but somehow her patients end up more injured, sick, or mentally defiled than before they entered the room. She also spends after hours beating up Chads in the school parking lot. Also runs a blog with her booby co-author Kaeya that emphasizes mostly on the dark knight hero.

Spotting the rest of your team behind her, you begin to criticize them one by one.

Standing against the wall is Kaeya, pushing both his biddies up with his crossed arms like an absolute whore. He's breaking about several dress code rules right now. Venti is next to him, drunk off his butt as he beat boxes with Tohma.

Eula mutters under her breath, on and on about seeking revenge on Zhongli for putting her beloved Amber on the opposing team, promising him an unfortunate fate. Xiao is miserably squatting on the floor, sharp eyes observing everyone in the gym, scowl not ready to dissipate anytime soon.

Then you look over at Childe's team in the distance. Jean with a determined look on her face as she listens to Childe's game plan, and Diluc crossing his arms with his brows furrowed in concentration. Even Amber, the best baller in the school, is stretching out her arms, assisted by the gifted princess of the school, Ayaka.

Not only that, but Childe has the king of dodging on his team—Kaedehara goddamn Kazuha. Beidou shoots you a wicked smirk, winking at you until she's disrupted by Ningguang's shove.

"Oh my god." You cry out when the realization hits you, falling to your knees in despair. "We're completely fucked!"

"No we aren't." Rosaria mutters lowly. "You're only fucked if you want to be. Don't you dare throw in the towel before the fight has even begun."

"But I—"

"Stop it." She grumbles again, rolling her eyes. "You're being annoying now. If you lose the game, that makes him the dom. Don't you want to be the dom?"

She's right. You do want to be the dom.

Her words of encouragement, and not at all veiled insults somehow allow you to find motivation deep within yourself. You get up and stomp towards the rest of your team, calling their attention with your newfound confidence.

"Listen here soldiers!" You shout out, determination clear as day. "I know I am not capable of leading. I know that I barely have the physical capabilities needed to defeat the opposite team."

You take a deep breath, pointing at your cutie patootie boyfriend across the gym as you seethe. "But that man, that harbinger of chaos, that instrument of war, is nothing but a tyrant. And I cannot let such a tyrant be a victor in this battle. Not when innocent lives are at stake."

Tohma speaks up, sending you a bewildered look. "What lives—"

"Shut the fuck up soldier!"

"Yessir!" He immediately stiffens, saluting you.

"Are you ready soldiers?" Your voice booms, and everyone reinforces their priorities, except for Kaeya though. He just lazily smirks.

After Zhongli places the balls in the middle, everyone prepares for the battle of the century.

'Gods, please let us win this war' you pray to the archons above, closing your eyes in concentration.

'Give me the strength to flex my superior skills' Childe wishes, then adds on quickly 'also I want to dominate this world.'

'Give me the strength to make it to Friday.' Rosaria prays for nobody but herself, rolls her eyes at all the unnecessary dramatics of this dodgeball game.

"3..." "2..." "1..."

Zhongli ends the countdown by blowing hard into a whistle, signaling the beginning of the game.

Not even two seconds later a ball whooshes past a few of you at the speed of light, followed by a tail of fire. The ball of death kisses Kaeya square in the nose, sending him reeling back into a wall with enough sheer force to cause an indent.

Everyone winces.

Before you all can reel in from the initial shock and make sense out of wherever the hell that asteroid came from, Zhongli's voice booms throughout the gymnasium.

"Mr. Ragnvindr, headshots are strictly forbidden. You are out!"

With a scoff, Diluc, satisfied with his work, leaves the court with no apparent qualms. He accepts his defeat with the upturned corners of his lips.

Rosaria pokes Kaeya's body with the tip of her heels, then cringes when he shakes awake, up from his short lived knockout and sends a wink her way.

"Getting handsy when I'm unconscious? I didn't think you'd be one to partake in such vulgar activities." His eye twinkles in mischief, and if his momentary defeat at the hands of brother has him fuming, he doesn't show it one bit.

The only thing that keeps Rosaria from knocking him out for real is the blood that trails down onto his lip. She doesn't want to clean blood off her shoes, especially since it's a pain in the ass to get off.

You're about to tell them to get up and take this seriously, but a softball does your job for you when it darts straight at Rosaria. With pristine accuracy, the girl manages to pitch herself away last minute.

You swivel in Childe's direction, who wears a remorseless grin, which only grows wider once you pick up a blue softball next to your feet.

The glare that he receives has him shaking in exhilaration. More so than the elation he'd felt when he took down that Stonehide Lawachurl for you, as a gift of promise.

You begin to bark out orders. "Eula, Xiao, and Rosaria cover the front and act as decoys."

They nod immediately, but Xiao still clicks his tongue in distaste as he starts following orders.

Then you offer Kaeya a hand. "Get up princess. You're on sniper duty."

With Diluc out of commission, the battle is fair and square now considering both sides have the same amount of people. Ergo, no one's at a disadvantage.

That is—until Lisa fake trips over pure air, landing on the floor in a dramatic slow motion.

You roll your eyes.

"Oh dear! I think I've twisted something." She cries out, crawling away from the battle field, acting as if she's paralyzed completely. "Don't worry about me. I'll cheer you on from afar. The battle has begun, and it seems as if I've become the first casualty."

You don't let the countless amount of Lisa's betrayals get to you, even this one. It's just her personality to flake out on anything and everything that requires her to do more than below the bare minimum.

Focusing on the match, your eyes are only on Childe, just as his are on you.

You aim the ball straight at his ribs, step back a bit, then propel the ball in the air with as much energy as you can, using your entire body as a power outlet. The ball spins in the air, reaching the awaiting victim.

Childe, unbothered, dodges the ball with perfect precision, the ball not even grazing his clothes at the least.

Your jaw drops open, and you're about to move for another ball until he grabs the same ball you threw at him. With the sharpness of a predator locking in on its pray, he focuses on you like a missile locks on its target, launching the ball in the air for power that has you trembling, second to the powerful ball that was thrown by Diluc.

With your pupils dilated at your impeding doom, it's Xiao that grabs you and thrusts away.

The ball lands on the floor, smoke rising.

"Holy shit!" You shriek over everyone else's grunts and shuffles. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Isn't it poetic?" Childe shouts back while he slides away from the balls being thrown. "Lover against lover. Either you're by my side, or in my way. And right now, you're in my way." He narrows his eyes dangerously. "Albeit reluctantly, I will take the victory babe. Even if we are on opposing sides."

"There was zero reluctance in that throw asshole!"

You thank Xiao, who wipes his hands on his pants in disgust. "Filthy humans. So pathetic and weak."

Mildly offended, you roll your sleeves up and begin to fight with everything you've got as soon as he walks away.

The dodgeball game goes as expected for the most part, Eula carrying for most of it with the flow of her skills.

Tohma actually tries like the presumptuous asshole he is, aims straight for his girlfriend Ayaka, and takes her out completely. His only justification for that is "I ain't no simp!"

He shelves his cocky attitude when facing Childe with a sense of dignity and prestige you didn't think he had in him.

The two one of a kind fuckbois puff out their chests so that they look more hefty than they are, having some kind of an Alpha match. The 'me stronger than you. me dominant. me get all the women' type beat.

Unfortunately, Childe manages to fence him with his throws, and lo and behold, the square off ends with a dejected Tohma dragging his feet to the nearest bench.

Eula oversees that Ningguang and Beidou meet a quick end, taking their slower dodging to her advantage. You're actually rooting for her, tasting a sliver of victory that you haven't reached yet. So close, yet so far.

Amber trips on herself in the middle of throwing a what should've been coordinated ball, and it loses most of its momentum. Xiao is directly in front of it, and will probably be able to catch it with ease.

Ah, another short victory.

If Childe loses his expert baller, he's only left with Kazuha and Jean, whom's lack in the art of throwing is made up by their ability to dodge most of the fastballs.

However, all your plans and hopes are crushed when Eula slides in front of Xiao last minute, sticks out her foot, and let's the pathetic product of Amber's would-be downfall hit her on the leg with the total force of about 0.0000001 newtons.

Your chances of winning have just went down by a staggering 60%.

"Eula!" You cry out, collapsing on the ground. "How could you?"

Tohma cups his mouth and bellows obnoxiously from the bench. "SIMP!"

"I cannot avenge my clan if I win a false victory." Eula crosses her arms, casting her gaze down in visible uncomfortableness. "Amber will pay her dues in two business days. Mark my words."

It all a load of cap. She's sleeping with the enemy and you know it.

You grit your teeth. Fuming with an abundance of rage, you pick up three balls and throw them all back to back, taking out Amber and Kazuha simultaneously.

Childe's heart flutters in another kind of delight when you pluck out his team members one by one with no hints of remorse.

In retaliation, Jean and Childe work in sync to swiftly take care of a distracted Rosaria.

"Shit." You hiss underneath your breath.

It's Venti, Kaeya, Xiao, and you who are the only remainders of your short-lived team. It's still two more people than Childe and Jean, giving you the upper hand briefly.

It's a mystery to everyone how Venti is still standing. You reckoned you would've lost him as collateral during the beginning of the match, but it seems he's able to hold his own.

When you squint hard enough, you realize that Xiao has been t-posing in front of the nonchalant SoundCloud rapper that's about as high as a kite. He must've been defending him throughout the entire round.

His defenses are all in vain once Childe correlates another attack with Jean, sharp-shooting four rapid balls that are secured on their targets.

Xiao swerves to the side, avoiding most of them, until one is about to reach a nonchalant as shit Venti.

You scream at him, eyes widening as you run towards them in slow motion. "NOoOoOOOo-"

The yaksha doesn't waste a moment, shifting so that he's covering Venti's body with his own, which to be honest is a pretty heartwarming sight.

The ball hits his lean back, a sharp thud following when it hits the floor.

Xiao is out. But his sacrifice is so inspiring that it brings tears to Zhongli's eyes, makes everyone in the gym go silent in awe.

Even the sadistic Childe melts, cerulean eyes gaining back their light, halting his fire.

When Xiao finally uncovers Venti's body, he speaks from the bottom of his dead heart. "I'd do anything for you..."

Venti shakes out of his baked state, blinking at him stupidly with a nervous chuckle. "Ehe~? I don't even know who you are."

The entire class sweat drops. Whatever slip of compassion on Childe's face earlier has become nothing but a memory. Even your eyes dim.

The next time Childe aims and locks at Venti, it's not with malicious intent. It's a favour, for you. In a way it adds dimension to who he is and the lengths he's willing to go for you, even at war.

Venti steps away with a bounce in his gait, hands behind his head.

Kaeya and you are the only ones left standing now, and the game becomes too tight knit to tell which side's going to win. It becomes utter chaos, balls being launched every second, stamina slowly decreasing as everyone lurches away from their demise.

As laid-back  and charming as the boy presents himself to be in front of the ladies, he's not very patient when it comes to facing circumstances like these. He's side lined for most of the match, finding it boring. And when Kaeya gets bored, the intensity of the tide changes, and everyone knows they're going to get a run for their money.

Kaeya coasts a hand around your hips, pulls you real close, purposefully leaning his bust into the side your innocent arm.

When Childe's smile drops, and the glint in his eyes reads 'DANGER' in full caps, you know it's time to be properly scared.

Your blood runs cold, mouth opening briefly and then clamping shut immediately.

"I'm so glad to be on your team Y/N. Maybe this'll give us the chance to become...closer." His hot breath fans against your ear, voice loud enough to be heard by onlookers.

Suddenly everything stops, falling into an unsettling silence.

You attempt glance at Childe, being met with a glare that's directed at the Captain of the Skating team. The ball in the orange-haired boy's hand deflates from the sheer intensity of the squeeze.

The tension becomes unreadable. Even Zhongli is caught mid-sip with his tea.

Quickly, you shrug off Kaeya's arm. "Childe, he's just fucking with you—"

Childe cuts you off by hurling a ball with nothing but the objective of cold blooded murder.

Kaeya whizzes past you, successfully ducking to avoid the hit, and his amused laugh rings through your ears. He rolls away from the following attacks, chucking his own series of colourful balls.

The events that unfold are blood-curdling enough to make even Satan boil his pants with diarrhea.

You take the clear opportunity presented by their concurrent dumbassery to take out Jean, the ace of the other team.

Childe's rage blows over when Kaeya eventually loses interest and takes the L, playfully winking at you while walking backwards to the rest of your team.

Now that all the distractions are dealt with, Childe's eyes flicker to you, and you share a murderous glance.

"Finally," He slaps the softball with a free hand, lips thinning into a homicidal smile. "I've been waiting for this. You better not disappoint me."

While Childe may be a violent anarchist who's only aspiration in life is to become a government contracted killer, he's also supposed to be your sweet boyfriend.

Slowly, you inch towards the front. "We don't have to do this Childe. We can coexist peacefully."

"Peace was never an option Y/N." He sighs, cracking his neck. "Besides—how else can I prove myself in your eyes? You may be my greatest weakness, but you are also my greatest adversary."

"I don't know, maybe start with not trying to obliterate me?"

"I'm obliterating you out of respect." He counters with a playful pout.

"Well I'll be paying my respects to your grave!" You lurch ahead into a sudden assault, yeeting as many balls as you can his way.

"That's my girl!" Childe whistles, grin widening psychotically when he goes all out, leaving you with an absence in favorable openings.

Out of nowhere, the fire alarms start going haywire, along with a beep in the PA system, which stops you two in your tracks.

A panicked voice of who you assume to be Yanfei shrieks through the comms. "CODE ORANGE! CODE ORANGE! EVACUATE THE BUILDING, THERE'S A STONEHIDE LAWACHURL ON THE PREMISES."

As if on cue, the ground starts rumbling and a Stonehide Lawachurl bursts through the halls and into the gym, looking around for something. Or rather, someone. It's sharp bumps and ridges make an indent on the floor, cracking it in.

Everyone falls into a state of panic, Zhongli trying his best to evacuate the class from the emergency back door as quickly as possible. "Settle down class, we have to follow protocol."

You, devoid of any emotion or sense of fear, turn to your boyfriend in such a calm manner it strikes an ominous dread in his stomach.

You stare.

Childe stares harder.

“I thought you killed it."

"I did." He retorts slowly, switching to gaze at the raging beast in amazement.

"Then why is it in the school!" You seethe, glaring daggers at his side profile.

Childe chuckles sheepishly, scratches the back of his neck. "I may or may not have stuffed the body in the boys washroom. Y'know, for safe keeping?"

The Lawachurl locks it's gaze on you, the prey, and then roars furiously. Turning into its geo-enhanced state, it begins charging at you with all its might, the target being solely Childe.

Leave it to your boyfriend to get on the hit list of an endangered beast.

"Fear not my vibrant girlfriend. Our first date can be surviving this." Childe cheekily kisses the top of your trembling hand before grasping it tightly and making a run for it.

[1kook]

netflix & chill

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality. warnings grinding, 2 seconds of sub kook, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla but [ passionate ], unprotected sex, dirty talk tags use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc wc 10.2k !! wow!!

will I ever write a serious jk fic? NO. this entire thing was based off this pic of jungkook which i’ve said before that i would print out in sepia filter and crumple and stuff in a drawer n then tell my kids 35 years from now was a long lost lover i met on a cruise to the bahamas and never saw again ty to mia more @daechwlta​ for being there during my brief crisis over this fic 🥺

When Namjoon had first not so subtly mentioned the idea of setting you up on a date, it was with a faux air of disinterest that you had masterfully pried the details out of him. Namjoon has a friend, he said, a friend who was kinda sorta attached to his hip. And while Namjoon loved the kid, he also thought this friend could use some social interaction outside of Namjoon.

Now you and Namjoon weren’t exactly the most conventional of friends for him to be proposing blind dates to you at whim. He was your senior at school, your mentor in your scholarship program, an educated man studying for his masters. So when he’d first uttered the words you were immediately on the fence. Sure, the two of you knew each other well and probably got along better than most mentor-mentee pairings among your year, but you doubt Namjoon knew enough of your tastes to offer you up for a blind date.

According to Namjoon, his friend was a kid in the same year as you, making him not so much as a kid as he was your classmate. You brushed it off at first, spewing some bullshit excuse that you’d rather focus on your studies, and how dating was a distraction to your education, as if you hadn’t spent the weekend prior binge watching some Spanish novella while you dutifully ignored your essay.

The second time Namjoon mentions it you agree on the spot. Life on campus could only be interesting for so long, so you might as well make the best of it and go on as many stupid dates as possible.

Namjoon is over the moon.

He tells you he’ll pass your phone number on over to that friend of his—“Jeon Jungkook”—and promises you you won’t regret this because his friend was amazing, really. And for Namjoon to sing his praises for just any underclassmen was unheard of. In fact, besides you, you don’t think Namjoon knows many other students younger than him, and if he did, you hardly doubt he would regard them so highly.

So he gives his friend your number, and so ends your weekly meeting with your mentor. You only realize on the walk back to your dorm that you forgot to ask him about some club at school, the whole goal of this week’s meeting, but by then you don’t really care, the whole conversation fading into the background.

In fact, you forget about the whole ordeal until Friday night rolls around and you’re once again, binge watching another novella on your laptop, when your phone suddenly vibrates.

You were by no means a loser at school, a friendless nobody, but you were also not the outgoing, school-spirited student on the front page of your school’s website, and thus had nearly every app that could produce a notification on your phone muted, every text thread silenced. The only notifications and messages you allowed were from your email and from your roommate, and considering the fact Doyeon was face down in a puddle of her own mid-semester tears right across from you, it was probably your email.

Much to your surprises, it isn’t that “Monday’s Class is CANCELLED” email you were hoping for, but instead some unknown number in a text notification. You roll your eyes, click it open thinking it’s a reminder from some store or from some guy claiming to be from your bank, only to pause at the words written inside the little grey bubble.

hey its jungkook!!! joon gave me your number to I guess ask you on a date soo are you free tmrw night??

The excessive punctuation reminds you a little bit of your kid sister back home and the dorky emails she’ll send you from time to time. It’s with that memory and a smile on your face, that you’re suddenly reminded of what exactly this message is saying. “Oh shit,” you mumble, moving to sit up and reread the text. Doyeon complaining loudly in the background has you reading it twice more before you understand it, and by then there’s a fluttery feeling in your chest.

You were by no means easily swayed by people, but this guy had received praise from Kim Namjoon of all people, so he definitely had some prestige to his name. He doesn’t seem overbearing from this one text he’d sent, but he also didn’t seem completely disinterested.  

You try to match his nonchalant energy, letting him know you were in fact free and down to meet him, just to let you know more details.

You won’t lie, there’s a giddy feeling bubbling within you at the prospect of getting all dolled up, hitting the town, pawning a free meal off some unsuspecting college soul, and maybe even hitting it off. It’s been a while since you’ve dated, sue you.

Jeon Jungkook’s response crushes those dreams as well as hurdles you straight into a nightmare.

cool!! was thinking i could cook for us at my place, drink a little wine, maybe Netflix and chill a little bit??

You are blown away by the absolute gall of this man, to butter you up by painting a pretty picture only to reduce you to a mere booty call. The fact he had felt confident enough to say all that within the same sentence blows your mind.

Did this Jeon Jungkook, who you had no idea of what he looked like, who had no idea of what you looked like, seriously just invite you over for some quote unquote Netflix and chill?

Who, in the ever living hell, was this guy who so sleazily invited women over to fuck with no qualms about who they were?

You’re offended that Namjoon would set you up like this, pawn you off to such a greasy friend. But then again, you guess not everyone knows their friends thoroughly, because this Jeon Jungkook flirtatiously inviting your over for some sex sounds nothing like the golden boy Kim Namjoon had raved about earlier this week. You click your phone off, tapping the device against your lips as you ponder how to best rip this jerk to shreds via text.

It’s amidst Doyeon cursing out her statistics teacher that an idea hits you.

Tomorrow was Saturday night, and as far as you knew, you really didn’t have anything else going on for you anyway. You’d take Jeon Jungkook’s offer, let him cook you a free meal and drink some of his wine. He mentioned having his own place, and vaguely you remember Namjoon saying he lived alone, hence his introverted tendencies, so you could slip in and out without doing that walk of shame through a boy’s dorm hall.

Not that there would be anything to feel shameful about. In fact, if you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.

Ha! That would certainly teach the asshole not to use his poor, unsuspecting friends to reel in nice girls like you into one night stands.

You could practically feel the devil horns begging to poke out of your skull, the forked tail wiggling behind you, as you click your phone back on and text Jeon Jungkook a great!! what’s your address :)

——

Saturday morning and afternoon are as boring as they usually are. You do a little homework, and spend thirty minutes filling Doyeon in on your master plan, which she eats up and even gives you some pointers—“and then you can be like, ‘you sick freak, as if I’d let you near this 5-star, Michelin reviewed, Gordon Ramsey approved coochie’ and throw the whole plate at his head!”—before getting ready for your little date at Jeon Jungkook’s.

You try hard to look good, harder than you would have if he hadn’t offended you by reducing you to a booty call, and Doyeon helps. She does your eyebrows all nice and natural, dusts the thinnest shin of liquid highlighter across the high points of your face, the whole shebang until you’re looking like a sexy, glowing goddess. You shimmy into a pretty dress, nothing too fancy nor too casual, and even pull on those strappy sandals you’d bought on sale last winter before blowing a kiss to Doyeon and meeting your Uber downstairs.

You don’t quite remember what the reason behind Jeon Jungkook living in such a swanky neighborhood a few minutes from campus was, if it was from a job you vaguely recall Namjoon mentioning, or if it was just purely hereditary, but his place is nice. It’s a connected townhouse, something you’d expect a newly wed couple to live in and not some douchebag third year.

Worse comes to worse, you get banned from this rich neighborhood after humiliating one of its residents in his own home, not that you’d ever make it big enough to live here anyway.

You’d texted Namjoon sometime that morning to let him know you were meeting his friend, an ominous text with an even more ominous smiley face attached to it. But it seems Namjoon is easily blinded by underclassmen he trusts, if Jeon Jungkook’s assholish feats and your own suspicious behavior is anything to go by, because he texts you back a polite have fun! he’s a little shy, so it might take a while for the ball to start rolling hahahaha.

Shy my ass, you think closing the door of your Uber behind you. You double check the address that had been texted to you, walking up to the neat townhouse and knocking against the polished door.

It’s a little chilly, and you hope finding an Uber is easier later tonight when you make your grand escape. It’s between these thoughts that the door swings open, revealing the most handsome man you’ve ever met.

He’s attractive, disgustingly so, with dark hair and light brown tips to contrast, tickling his cheekbones. His dark eyes are round and imploring as they meet yours, gaze almost innocent and doe like as he takes you in. He’s got this soft, blue turtleneck on, and it looks like it should be a seasonal sweater reserved for the holidays but he pulls it off nicely on this premature spring night. His pretty pink lips move, and it takes you a second to realize he’s talking.

“___?” He says, and his voice is deep, yet soft in its own unique way. You nod, like a stupid bobble head, because your throat constricted the moment this beautiful angel opened the door. “It’s cold outside, come in!” He urges you, out stretching his palm to make sure you don’t trip over the slight step up the door as he brings you into his home.

“Hi,” he exhales when you’re finally inside, standing a little too close to you in his small entryway.

“Hi,” you finally choke out, a little dazed by how handsome he is, and the sudden realization that you’re supposed to throw your glass of wine at him tonight because he’s a douchebag dawns on you. You blink yourself out of your stupor, taking a step back and gesturing towards your sandal clad feet.

“Oh!” Jeon Jungkook exclaims at the sudden realization. “I forgot to set out a pair of slippers for you,” he sheepishly admits, before he excuses himself to go get some. There’s a tiny ottoman pushed against the wall, beneath a long mirror, that you take a seat on it, carefully unstrapping your sandals.

All the while, you’re deep in thought.

It makes sense that someone like Jeon Jungkook was so forward in inviting you over for sex during your first interaction. Realistically speaking, the guy had it all. He lived alone in a swanky townhouse in a wealthy neighborhood (you finally remember Namjoon saying he did some app developing for major companies—yeah, still in college but already making it big because he was that good), and looked like the blueprint for the perfect man, someone who’d impress your parents. On top of that, the man was was a 21st century Adonis. You hadn’t missed the flash of ink on his knuckles, or the way his jeans had hugged his legs.

He’s making his way back now, inspecting the slippers in his hands, and you don’t miss the way the jeans are pulled taut around his thighs in particular.

Yeah, he definitely knew his way around a woman’s body, there was no way he couldn’t have.

You slip your feet into the slippers he places before you, wiggling your toes around, before glancing back at Jungkook. He smiles warmly, a little beauty mark beneath his lip making itself known. He takes your hand, pulls you up onto your feet, and begins guiding you down the hall and to what you assume is the kitchen.

“I didn’t know what you liked, and I figured asking you three hours before you came over would be too awkward,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. He glances at you again, and upon seeing your inquisitive stare, quickly turns away with flushed cheeks.

Oh this man knew the game, and he knew it well.

Jeon Jungkook still thinks he can play that cute campus boy being set up by his senior card now, after he’d shown you his true colors last night via text. But he has a big storm coming. As much as you could admit he was good to look at, you would not be fooled by some pretty face and tasty food. No, you came here with one goal and one goal only, and that was to give Jeon Jungkook a piece of his own two-faced medicine before running off to tattle to Namjoon.

You reach the kitchen and the heavenly smell of Alfredo sauce swarms your nostrils. “I… I’m still new to cooking, so I hope you don’t mind some Alfredo pasta,” he admits, shy smile adorning his features as he avoids your gaze once again to toy with the dish towel by the sink.

You creep closer to the counter, where two meticulously presented ceramic plates sit beside a wine bottle, and the glands in your mouth suddenly go into overdrive in their rush to make you salivate, and you choke out an overly eager, “it looks amazing!” before you know it.

Okay, you came here with two goals.

——

Jungkook carries the two bowls in his big hands to the dining room beside the kitchen, and you follow behind with the bottle of wine and two glasses as you set the table together. The utensils are already there, but Jungkook runs back into the kitchen anyway to return with some fancy cloth napkins for the two of you.

Just as you're tugging a chair out to sit, Jungkook beats you to it. “Ah, let me,” he smiles, and your heart thunders nervously in your chest as you return the expression, brushing your hands beneath you before sitting down and letting him push you in. Jungkook takes his own seat in front of you, and before you can dig in he calls out to seemingly nobody, “Alexa, dim the dining room lights.”

The overhead lights dim, and with their overbearing glow gone, you can finally appreciate the battery powered candles snuggled neatly into a little bowl on the table between you two. You ooh appreciatively, and Jungkook looks proud of himself.

Then, he says, “Alexa, play…Date Night Playlist.”

You blink, and a soft piano tune begins filtering through a speaker he’s hidden somewhere in the room. Even with the fake candles being your main source of light, the flush on Jungkook’s cheeks is evident as he gestures towards you to eat.

You won’t lie. Jeon Jungkook was extremely endearing.

This much becomes evident the further you get into the meal. As small talk devolves into full fledged conversations and story telling, his shy demeanor slipping away but still sticking to the edges of his personality, you begin to have a more difficult time connecting this Jungkook to the one who had less than 24 hours ago asked you to come over and “Netflix and chill” with him.

But the more you speak, the more distant that image begins to feel. For one, Jungkook does put on a fairly reserved aura for you, telling you about his job but refusing to brag about it even when you egg him on. He has no qualms gassing up his friends, Namjoon in particular, who Jungkook claims is his role model for some unknown reason, given the fact they are neither in the same major nor in any of the same clubs. They’re friends, point blank period, but Namjoon is very obviously a star in Jungkook’s eyes.

Additionally, he’s quite embarrassed to admit why Namjoon had been so set on getting Jungkook to date, but eventually tells you it’s because Jungkook’s last girlfriend had been during your freshman year—two whole years ago! It makes you wonder what he’d been doing since then, if he’d used the time to fully invest in his work or if he’d been mingling around, unbeknownst to his friends, which would explain the flirtatious offer that landed you here.

Still, a part of you refuses to believe last night’s Jungkook and tonight’s Jungkook were one in the same, and if they were, what had made this shy man so unabashedly invite you over for some sex. Was this act all a ploy? Or maybe, was he purposefully trying to ward you away by coming off as a gentleman now that he’d seen your face and wasn’t interested in you anymore?

Apparently it’s neither of the two, and you don’t realize this until you finish your meal and make your way into his living room to finally get down to the long awaited Netflix and chilling. It’s only when you sit down on the couch, smack dab in the middle, because at this point, you’re not gonna throw your wine at Jeon Jungkook like you planned, he was too nice. And if this niceness was an act to get in your panties, you didn’t care at this point. He was hot, achingly so, and at least you’d get a good fuck out of it.

But as you said, apparently not. Because Jeon Jungkook sees you purposefully take up the entire middle of the couch, sultry eyes staring him down, and decides to sit flush against the armrest, somehow leaving a good foot between the two of you, despite the fact you’re sitting next to each other.

Your brain can’t work fast enough to comprehend the situation, before he’s asking you what you want to watch. “Um,” you say, pointedly staring at him and not the screen. “Tr-Transformers?”

The way Jungkook’s eyes light up is insane, already round eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as he eagerly rushes to select it from whatever streaming service he has, probably not even Netflix, all the while chattering on about how much he loves that series, and is so glad you do too.

The whole time, you’re struck by the oddness of his casual tone, the way he’s overly invested in the 20th Century Fox opening, and how he’s very carefully avoiding intruding in on your personal space.

The last point in particular has you wanting to pull your hair out, because you want Jeon Jungkook intruding in on your personal space. You want him pressed so tightly against you you can’t breathe, you can’t move, until you’re drowning in him as he finally lives up to his promise of some Netflix and chill, because you want him, and you want him so. very. bad.

“Oh, I forgot the popcorn!” Jungkook exclaims, and you jump at the sudden volume of his voice, because he’d been pretty silent as he avidly watched the first few minutes of the movie. “Sorry,” he chuckles, and his leg brushes against yours as he shuffles between you and the coffee table on his way out. You vaguely hear the popping of the popcorn in the kitchen, but you’re too distracted by your suddenly overwhelming thoughts.

Okay, one thing was for sure, and that was that Jeon Jungkook definitely had no fucking idea what the phrase Netflix and chill meant, because the way he’d zeroed in on the movie and the popcorn, and not you, was unheard of on such invitations. You deduce he probably heard it somewhere, and, now understanding the true nature of Jungkook’s sweet and shy personality, made no such perverted connection to the phrase.

Which meant he most definitely did not demean you to a mere booty call, like you’d deluded yourself into believing, someone he could hump and dump with no regrets, before calling Namjoon up to thank him. Which meant he’d had no ulterior motives in meeting you tonight, just planning to get to know you at the suggestion of his friend, and had—unbeknownst to him—successfully wooed you thus far.

Which was great! If you turned a blind eye to the evil, conniving plans you’d made without even meeting the guy, and the subsequent flood of self-inflicted disapproval when you realized Jeon Jungkook was a sweetheart who definitely did not deserve having a glass of wine thrown at his face after making you a home cooked meal and giving you the full Olive Garden experience, with his dimmed lights and candlelit dinner and piano music on the background.

Yeah. Perfectly fine.

The only problem now was that you had become so dangerously smitten with the man that you wanted to sleep with him. You wanted that Netflix and chill, needed it like it was the last slot in a daycare class and you were a soccer mom of five wanting to get at least one kid out of the house for the summer for the sake of her own sanity. You were desperate.

No, you scold yourself. This was fine, this was good, this was perfectly okay. If anything, this just further made you enamored with Jungkook, because it proved how gentlemanly he was by not trying to sleep with you on the first date.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to, the devil on your shoulder crooned.

The microwave in the kitchen stops, and you hear the sound of cabinets opening as Jungkook pours the popcorn into a bowl. On screen, the main character is meeting a bunch of giant cars-turned-robots, you don’t fucking know.

But the devil was right.

Jungkook hadn’t offered to sleep with you, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. Furthermore, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be seduced into wanting to, your evil brain suggested, and the hope that had slithered it’s way into your chest from the very moment Jungkook had opened the door, took that fact and ran with it.

“What’d I miss?” Jungkook says when he returns, popcorn bowl in hand.

“Oh, um, he was with the car,” you offer, trying to stop the nefarious smirk from slipping onto your features. Jungkook laughs, cute and airy as he shuffles past you.

He’s too absorbed in the screen, not looking as he sits down, closer than last time until his thigh brushes yours and he jerks back in embarrassment. “Oh, sorry,” he flounders, goes to move away but you act fast.

You grab onto his upper arm with both of yours like an octopus, keeping him flush to you as you gaze up at him with wide eyes. “No, it’s okay,” you rush to assure him, loosening your hold as he tentatively relaxes beside you. You glance down at the popcorn bowl in his hand, swiping a piece to pop between your lips. “It’s easier for us this way,” you say, and you’re pulling that straight out of your ass, because you hate popcorn and have literally zero desire for it and wouldn’t have reached for it anyway if you weren’t trying to convince him this was all for popcorn sharing purposes.

Jungkook’s eyes briefly flicker down to where you’re munching on that popcorn, your lips, before he’s quickly averting his gaze. “Ah, y-yeah,” he agrees, and though he tries to relax back into the couch, you can still feel the tension of his muscles as he settles beside you.

With his eyes no longer trained on you, you snuggle closer into his side resting your cheek against the soft material covering his shoulder, finally letting that devious smirk slip onto your face. You keep yourself close to Jungkook, loving the way his warmth permeates the thick sweater he’s wearing, even if he’s still overly into the movie. You know he’s seen it before, because he keeps telling you random tidbits like, “they use this in the next movie!” Or “he ends up becoming really important in the sixth movie,” and you want to listen to this endearing nerd’s commentary, you really do, but once your brain is stuck on horny, it is stuck on horny.

He doesn’t even eat a lot of popcorn, setting it down not ten minutes later onto the coffee table. You release him as he moves forward, but quickly latch onto him again when he sits back down.

Much to your surprise, Jungkook is way more relaxed then, shrugging you off to rest his hand on the couch behind you, and you inwardly squeal at the prospect of getting to cuddle up to his body, and not just his arm. You cuddle in close to him, leaving your slippers on the ground as you tuck your legs up onto the couch cushions.

Jungkook is so warm and firm, and you know it’s your horny brain speaking, but you swear you feel a tight set of abs underneath the palm you rest on his stomach, and you give an experimental brush over the area. His heart picks up, you hear it by where your head is leaning against his chest, and you tilt your head up to give him a curious glance. His cheeks are red, and he doesn’t look at you even though you know he sees you, so you decide to kick things up a notch.

You sigh loudly, peeling yourself away from him to properly level him with a pout. “Jungkook, aren’t you hot in this?” You ask, pinching the wooly material between two fingers and pulling it from his skin. Jungkook finally looks away from the screen, nibbling his lower lip as he takes in your quizzical expression.

“Um, only a little… but it’s fine!” He rushes to say, and you recall from your conversations over dinner that Jungkook doesn’t much like people fussing over him, so you quickly change gears.

You press a hand against your cheek, the same one that had been resting against his shoulder earlier. “Oh, well… it’s really itchy,” you announce, and his eyes widen, one hand absentmindedly reaching to clutch the material at his chest. “It’s making me really itchy,” you emphasize, and part of you feels bad for taking advantage of his caring nature, but this is all for the greater good, you convince yourself. “Do you mind taking it off?”

“I, uh, yeah,” he agrees, reaching for the hem of his sweater before carefully peeling it off. When he pulls it over his head, you can’t help the triumphant grin that overtakes your face, though you quickly mask it when he finally frees himself from the material. “Better?” He says once he’s clad in only a plain black shirt.

“Mm, much,” you sigh, and nearly soak your panties then and there when a tattooed sleeve comes into view. “Woah!” You exclaim, snatching his wrists up to examine his skin. “What’s this?” You marvel, tracing every inch of delicious skin with your predatory gaze. Jungkook huffs out a laugh, and you glance up to watch as he rubs the back of his neck in that same embarrassed way he’d done multiple times throughout your night together.

“My tattoos,” he says, and then seems to realize the simplicity of his statement and rushes to add to it, “I hope you don’t mind?”

You hum, shifting onto your knees to face him as you continue tracing over a huge tiger lily by his forearm. “Why would I? It’s your body,” you say, and watch the nervous glance melt off his face as he regards you with something new. Something akin to wonder as he lets you trace over more of his ink, nodding along to your words.

“Yeah… yeah!” He agrees, and you grin at his sudden zeal. He chuckles, physically relaxing beneath your touch, and it’s probably the most relaxed he’s been all night as you continue rubbing your hands over every tattoo on his skin, and then purposefully focusing on the ones near his bicep. “Sorry, ‘m just used to people pushing off their own opinions about them onto me,” he explains, and for a moment, the horniness that had been fueling you all night fades away, and you let your hands trail down, past his wrist, until you’re sandwiching his hand between yours.

“Fuck what anyone else thinks,” you tell him, eyes hard as you imagine anyone imposing their stupid thoughts on Jungkook, who was too good for this world. “If you think they’re cool, then they're the coolest thing in the world.”

He smiles at you, and you’ve seen this smile about a million times tonight—when you first came in, when you talked about yourself at dinner, when you mentioned this stupid movie—but it has something swelling in your chest. Something too intimate for a first date, so you quickly move to repress it.

Glancing down at his hand in yours, littered with smaller tattoos across his knuckles, your brain whirls into action. Bringing it up between the two of you, you turn his hand over to line your palms up. “Wow, your hands are so big,” you sigh, slowly reverting back to dirty thoughts as you twist yours and Jungkook’s hands this way and that. He snorts, bends the tips of his fingers over yours just to hear you ooooh again.

“Yeah, they’re pretty big,” he agrees, completely ignoring the film playing on the screen, which is a huge win in your eyes considering how deeply he’d been watching it earlier.

Finally, you see an opening and pounce.

“Well, that means something else is pretty big too,” you murmur, chancing a glance up at his face. His face is the perfect definition of composed, and you can tell when exactly he processes your words because those little pink lips part in surprise, red slowly filling the apples of his cheeks. You let go of his palm, letting it slide between your fingers until it falls limp beside him.

Jungkook watches you with wide eyes, as you raise yourself up onto your knees. “Jungkook?” You mumble, giving him no warning before you’re throwing a leg across his lap, knees pressed into the couch on either side of his thighs.

“Y-Yes?” He stutters, brown hair falling away from his face as he stares up at you. You flash him a sweet smile, and you can tell it relaxes him because his fists unclench beside him.

“You’re a really nice boy,” you sigh, and when you’ve scooted your knees a little closer to his ridiculously thin waist, you finally let yourself sit. You find yourself right before his crotch, which he desperately tries to hide as he shifts around, but can’t with you on top of him. You let your hands flutter to rest at his shoulders, and he gulps. “You’re so sweet and cute,” you add, relish in the flush that climbs up to his ears. “But I’m a little sad you invited me over to Netflix and chill, but won’t do just that,” you pout, a finger tangling itself in a soft strand at the back of his head.

“Huh?” He stutters, eyes nearly bulging out when you wiggle around again. “I-I’m sorry?” He huffs, and when you move too close to his crotch, where his jeans are slowly growing more and more strained, he panics and reaches a hand out to steady your waist.

You feign confusion, flashing him another pout as you duck closer until your noses bump against each other. “You know what it means, don’t you, Jungkook?” You inquire, eyes falling dangerously lidded as you swallow up every inch of his appearances.

He stutters, hands moving up and down as if he doesn’t know where to put them anymore. But you know exactly where Jungkook can put those hands, and you waste no time catching his wrists in your hands to guide him towards your hips. “No?” He breathes, fingers flexing against you, and you smile sweetly at him.

“It means,” you purr, shifting forward until you’re flush against where you need him most. You can barely contain the whimper that climbs out of your throat when you finally feel the rough material of his jeans against your panties. “It means you wanna fuck, Jungkook,” you exhale, tossing your head back as your body basks in the slight reprieve, the way Jungkook squirms beneath you aiding greatly in providing that sensation you craved.

“It’s nothing more than an excuse,” you huff, placing a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself. At your touch, Jungkook jolts, thighs jumping beneath you and you stifle another groan when the zipper of his jeans prods against your core. “For you to fuck my brains out while some s-stupid movie plays in the background.”

You’re not sure when, but sometime during that last explanation your hands had fully delved into the thick tresses of Jungkook’s hair. You give an experimental tug, and poor Jungkook, so lost in all that you’re telling him, lolls his head back for you easily until the long expanse of his neck is available, soft creamy skin yours for the taking.

You pounce, kissing the skin gently at first, before sprinkling in a handful of nibbles. He’s sensitive, devastatingly so, as he gasps at a particular suck. You suction your lips on the spot below his ear, carefully biting down on the skin as he unravels beneath you. “Will you do it, Jungkookie?” You murmur against the shell of his ear,

He nods eagerly, and his fingers hurt where he’s pressed them deep into your waist, like he’s trying to brand you as his with his mere strength alone. “Y-Yes,” he exhales, hips jerking when you swipe your tongue over the pretty mark you’d left on his perfect skin.

You smother your smirk against his neck, grinding down on him once again. “Yes what?” You tease, and let his strong hands roll you against him afterwards.

“Yes, I-I’ll…” he stumbles, eyes dazed as he watches you through hooded lids. You raise a brow at him, shifting in his lap. It’s enough to kickstart him back up, and he’s biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. “I’ll fuck you, I’ll fuck you just like you want,” he rambles. He surprises you when he begins rutting up against you, so animalistic and uncontrolled, nothing like the sweet Jungkook that had indulged you over dinner. “I’ll make you come, p-promise,” he rasps.

You smirk down at him, hoping he doesn’t see the metaphorical horns sticking out of your head the further he falls into your trap. Before he can say anything else, you surge forward, slotting your mouths together for the first time that night.

It’s no surprise that Jungkook kisses just like he speaks, carefully like he’s afraid one hard press of his lips will ward you off. His lips are smooth, a fact you’d hyper-fixated on all night as he spoke, but before you can ponder on that any further, something hot and wet is prodding at your lower lip.

The gasp you barely manage to contain ends up escaping anyway when Jungkook’s hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tilting your head to the side as his tongue slithers into your mouth. You become obsessed with the way he touches you, every bit the gentlemen he’d been all night, fingers just barely pressing into your cheek like he doesn’t want to mess up your makeup. His other hand, snuggly wrapped around your waist, pulls you tighter against him until your chests are pressed together.

And that tongue. That tongue of his that leaves no room for argument, quickly shutting down any attempts of yours to overtake him. He’s graceful about it too, one nudge enough to convince you he’s got this, he’ll take care of you. You whimper, a sound Jungkook swallows before he’s biting down on your lower lip.

When he pulls away, his lips are red and glossy, and you wonder if yours are too. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he sighs, gazing at you like he can’t believe you’re there in front of him.

Before you can say anything else, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck to brush kisses over your skin. “Let me eat you out,” he begs, but his voice is so silky and smooth that it doesn’t sound so much as a plea as much as it does a suggestion. He licks a stripe up your neck, and you jump in his hold.

It’s at this moment where the sudden realization hits you, the feeling of having the reins yanked out of your hands. You so vividly controlled every aspect of Jungkook just a few moments ago, when you’d had your own mouth on his neck, and carefully coaxed him into some sex.

But it seems Jeon Jungkook isn’t as soft or as pliable as you had dubbed him to be, and if the way he’s begun subtly rolling your hips into his crotch is any sign, he certainly wasn’t the submissive type either. Which leaves you wondering, exactly what type of person was Jungkook in bed?

Well, you had all night to figure that out.

“Hey,” he whines suddenly, ripping you out of your thoughts. You glance down at him, registering the bored set of his eyes and the unimpressed quirk of his lips. “Pay attention to me.”

You blink, lips twitching. You can barely muffle the giggle that tears itself from your throat, leaning your forehead on his shoulder as your body shakes at his suddenly childish words. Jungkook chuckles too, as if suddenly realizing how out of place his own statement was. “Sorry,” he smiles, cheeks pleasantly rosy and you can’t even stop yourself from kissing him silly.

Jungkook, bless his heart, let’s you rain down a good three kisses on him before he’s pushing you down on the couch beside him. There’s still a slight gleam in his eyes, but the rest of his face schools itself into a hungry expression as he drinks in your body laid out before him. “Let me eat you out?” He asks again, voice but a soft whisper.

You nod, heart beating loudly in your chest as he shuffles down until he can press a kiss to the tops of your thighs. He hasn’t even done anything that intense yet, but you already feel the muscles in your leg ready to spasm just from his proximity.

He’s mouthing at your skin, nudging your legs apart, and you, usually so confident in your sexuality, can’t find the courage to look at him as he so lovingly carries out his ministrations.

As if sensing your sudden bout of shyness (you! shy! Doyeon was gonna tease you about this for the rest of your life once you recapped this for her), he places a soft kiss just below where the hem of your dress begins, before pulling back and uttering, “this okay?”

You hum in response, face warm from just imagining how good he must look down there, peppering your skin with kisses. Your heart nearly rips itself out of your chest when a strong set of fingers wraps around your wrist suddenly, sliding over and around your hand until he’s tangled them with yours.

At this, you nearly break your neck trying to look at him, only to be met with an amused smile. Jungkook gives your hand a squeeze, and you barely get to appreciate the schoolgirl flood of emotions in your chest, when suddenly his free hand comes out of left field, cupping the back of your knee to push your legs further apart, before gliding across the expanse of your thigh to push your dress up.

If Jungkook holding your hand was enough to make your heart skip a beat, Jungkook pressing a chaste kiss to your panty-clad mound was enough to send you into cardiac arrest. Your leg twitches at the sudden touch, a gasp catching in your throat at the delicate path he kisses over your panties, until he’s flicking his tongue over your clit. “Oh,” you moan, and against your better judgment, your free hand is tangling itself in his silky strands.

Jungkook smirks, what sounds like a tiny chuckle muffled as he continues mouthing along your sex, until your panties are soaked both from your arousal and his saliva. Your little thong stares him in the face, and he groans at the sight, glancing up at you with those wide eyes of his like you’re his entire world. “Can I?”

Jungkook gives your clit one final kiss, before he lets go of your hand, and you can’t help the whine that leaves you upon the lost contact. Jungkook eats it up, pressing a kiss turned smile against your knee as he tugs your underwear down. It coils up as it goes, until he’s pulling a tightly twisted maroon thong off your ankles, and tossing it off somewhere behind him.

If his mouth felt good through your panties, it feels even better without. You mewl when he brushes his lips over your clit, plush lips working your sensitive bundle of nerves, sly tongue occasionally creeping out to toy with you further. “Jungkook,” you cry out, back arching. He licks and slurps likes he’s a starved man, and you're the first meal he’s ever had. You want to sob from how good it feels, his tongue flicking over your bud like he just can’t get enough.

He pulls away to catch your gaze, doesn’t let it go as he runs a lone finger over your slit, coating the digit in your own arousal, before carefully plunging it into your warm, wet heat. “Is this good?” He rasps out, watching your facial expressions carefully as he wiggles his finger deeper into your core, his other hand wrapped around your thigh to keep you still. You moan, feeling like a boneless heap of organs beneath this insanely handsome man who can’t keep his hands off your quivering pussy.

His fingers don’t let up, slowly pulling out before plunging back in. The room fills with disgustingly wet sounds, but that fact drifts to the back of your head the faster his fingers go. Your eyes roll into your head, your body twitching with each press of his fingers.

“Is it good, pretty?” He repeats, and since you’re not looking at him anymore, the sudden lick against your clit has your back arching and your thighs quivering with surprise. “Tell me it’s good, ___,” Jungkook croons, and you nod in a hurry.

“It’s good!” You cry, moaning loudly when he slips another finger into you, scissoring the two inside of you. “It’s so good, Jungkook—y-you’re so good,” you moan, and nearly cry actual tears when he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing down against the most sensitive spot within you.

Jungkook doesn’t let up, continues licking and slurping against your sensitive bud, even when your orgasm hits and you’re begging him to stop. He doesn’t let you go until he feels the warmth coat his fingers, feels the wetness begging to seep out of your plugged pussy. He lets you go then, only to move closer to your hole and replace his fingers with his mouth. There, he carefully catches and collects the cum that trickles out, mouth warm against your trembling body.

Your body quivers with each long drag of his tongue over your sensitive cunt, and you’re about to ask him to stop, when he finally pulls away and pushes himself over you, arms caging you in as he stares down at your withered form. “Kiss,” you manage to gasp out, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow in question. “Kiss me,” you repeat, and then, thoughtfully, “please.”

Jungkook complies, leans down to connect your mouths in a sweet kiss. You’re blinded by the delicacy of it all, that you in no way see coming the sudden substance that slides down your throat from his own. You choke at the sudden intrusion, belatedly realizing it’s your cum he’s pushing down your throat, the cum he didn’t swallow.

“That’s it, pretty,” Jungkook croons, licking up the residual come that hadn’t made it into your mouth. “See how you taste for me. Isn’t it sweet?” He murmurs, pushing his tongue into your mouth as if he regretted not saving any for himself. It’s the first time you’ve had your own pleasure in your mouth, so you’re not exactly sure how to feel. What you do feel is the overwhelming surge of arousal at seeing Jungkook rave about it and lap it up inside your own mouth.

He kisses you for a few moments, mouth moving languidly along yours. One hand reaches down to rub soothingly at your inner thigh, like he’s coaxing the feeling back into your body after lulling you into one of the most heavenly orgasms of your entire life. You whimper when he bites down on your lower lip, like you’re still too sensitive to reciprocate, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. He lets you go, licks over where he’d bitten like an apology.

After a few minutes of just this, of feeling like the most cherished girl in the entire world, Jungkook finally pulls away and levels you with a dashing smile. “All good?” He asks, hands still trailing up your waist until they’re framing the swell of your breasts, where he gently circles your nipple.

You nod, dazedly staring up at him and it’s at this exact moment that you realize there’s something stiff poking at your hip. You glance down, and Jungkook glances down with you, until you’re both staring at the hard on he’s hiding beneath his jeans. Jungkook chuckles, low and dark by your ear as he experimentally presses it against you.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand is untangling itself from around his shoulders and slithering down his front. You cup his erection, his shaky exhale giving you the courage to toy with his belt buckle until it’s undone and you're battling with the button on his jeans instead. You put up a good fight, but in the end the angle is too tight for you to properly undo it, and Jungkook brushes your hands away with a soft kiss to your lips.

He pushes himself off you, and you’re immediately craving the warm press of his body against yours the second he’s gone. “Get that dress off for me, pretty girl,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head, rendering you completely speechless as you gawk at his body. Jungkook glances down at you as he goes to undo his pants, a shapely brow raising in your direction and a soft quirk of his lips gesturing for you to do as you’re told.

You spur into action, wiggling the dress up and over your breasts until you’re pulling it over your head and letting it drop beside you on the floor. You’re just in time to see Jungkook push his jeans down his hips, a classic black Calvin Klein underwear band glaring back at you.

The chance to marvel at Jungkook’s thin waist framed by that tight underwear is gone as quickly as it came, and you’re greeted with an even more mouthwatering sight when he pushes the elastic band down, and that big cock you had alluded to springs out of its confines. You groan, subconsciously rolling your hips into the air as you take in the sight of his cock, mushroom tip swollen and flushed. There’s a thick vein that runs along the underside of it, one you only see when Jungkook grasps his dick in his hand and tugs upward like this isn’t his true form, and he can get bigger.

“Ready?” He asks, biting down on his lip as he continues to stroke himself. You nod, wiggling closer to him until the backs of your thighs rest on top of his, knees knocking against his waist. He grants you one more of those kind smiles, before he’s leaning down to press a hand beside your head, the other lining himself up with your soaked entrance.

Running his cock over your folds one last time, collecting as much of your cum as he can, he brushes a kiss against your cheekbone before he’s pushing in. You moan, throwing your hands around his neck as he pierces through the initial ring of muscle surrounding your warm heat. “Holy shit,” you choke, mouth dropped open as you pant like a dog against his shoulder. “J-Jungkook,” you cry, legs tightening around his waist the closer his body presses against yours.

Once he’s at the hilt, pelvis flush against you, you can’t help the series of whines and mewls that escape your lips from being so comfortably filled to the brim.

To your surprise, Jungkook is the first to speak. “Fuck,” he groans, breath hot against your ear. He sounds fucked out, once silky voice raspy with need as he grinds his hips against you tentatively. “This is what you wanted, isn't it?” He huffs, both hands coming down to wrap around your waist, your back arching under the wonderful hands that find themselves squeezing every inch of your back in an effort to pull you closer.

His mouth brushes against yours from this new position, and Jungkook puckers his lips, tongue coming out to lick at your bottom lip. You nearly cry when he finally pulls his hips away, relieves his cock from your tight heat before surging back in. “Wanted this from the moment you walked in, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Jungkook grunts, repeats the same motion until he’s picked up a steady pace of pushing and pulling, each roll of his hips sending a shock of ecstasy crawling up your spine.

You nod, eyes screwed shut as pleasure warms every inch of your body. It’s even worse to not see, because every sound and every touch is magnified tenfold, until you’re drowning in sensations. Jungkook’s choked groans, the slide of his hips, they all become too much too quickly and you’re choking back a sob.

“Fuck,” he groans, glancing down at your withered form like an animal as he picks up his pace. His hold on you tightens, never letting your body move away from him and he begins jack hammering in his thrusts, swallowing your cries with his lips. “Had me thinking you were a nice girl,” he huffs, and you wonder if he knows how tightly he’s holding you, how this grip will most likely leave you with fingerprint bruises tomorrow morning. But then again, you don’t care. All you care about is Jungkook’s voice and his body, guiding you toward completion. “But all you wanted was a quick fuck.”

You steel yourself to look at him again, and when your eyes finally open and focus, you’re wishing you hadn’t because Jungkook looks so hot over you. His pretty eyes, the ones that had led you into a false sense of comfort throughout the night and tricked you into believing he would be easy to bend to your every whim, are hard now. “Isn’t that right, doll?” He spits, and you whine when he punctuates this question with a particularly brutal thrust of his hips. His balls slap against your ass, and you squirm beneath him as you begin to feel the beginnings of an orgasm build in your core.

“I-I thought—“ you stammer, tone pitched from the way he jostles you with every thrust he gives. “Y-You wanted that,” you weekly defend, canting your hips down in a feeble attempt to progress this along.

He snorts, captures your lips in a rushed kiss where he wastes no time snaking his tongue inside your mouth. His saliva trickles into your mouth, and you whine as he purposefully lets it happen, pulls away just the slightest to pucker his lips and let a thick trail of spit fall straight into your open mouth. Satisfied with his little stunt, he rams his cock against you once more.

“If you wanted a quick fuck,” he says, nearly loses himself in your pussy, “you came to the wrong guy, sweetheart.”

You’re too caught up in the nice drag of his cock against your pussy, the tip of his cock stopping him from ever pulling out completely, that it takes you a second to process his words. “H-Huh?” You choke, teary eyes flickering across his face wildly as if the answer will be right in plain sight.

But all you’re met with is the soft pull of his lips as he flashes you a smirk, pearly white teeth tugging at the pink flesh, as he levels you with a glare of his own. Before you can question him further, he’s letting go of your waist to hike your knees into the crook of his elbows, his pouty lips growing further away as he leans back.

This shift has his cock nudging up, rubbing against the hood of your clit where a bundle of nerves he’d only briefly brushed before sits. You shriek in pleasure, writhing beneath him as the sudden sensation hits you full force. “Jungkook!” You sob, his hips slowing to a grind as he watches your face crumble beneath him.

“You like that?” He murmurs, rutting his hips against you shallowly. The change of pace, the rabid piston of his hips slowing to this, has your body melting into his touch. You barely manage a nod, eyes fluttering open and shut as his hips move sensually against you.

His cock brushes against that sensitive spot with each roll of his hips, and you’re a mewling, puddle of emotion by the third thrust. “Pretty girl,” he hums, letting go of one leg to place a hand above your mound, thumb circling your clit until you’re trembling beneath him. “Did you think I would fuck you and kick you out?” He husks, watching your body like he’s a lion and you’re his prey.

Your brain is far from comprehending anything at this point, reduced to a mere mass of nothingness as he continues moving against you, fingers rubbing your clit in all the right ways.

“Well, you were wrong about that, doll,” he huffs, and you’re blessed with the sight of his head lolling back as he loses himself in the tight grip of your pussy, skin glistening with sweat, trailing from behind his ear and over his neck, until you’re watching a pearl roll over his collarbones. “I don’t do that,” he informs you, and he pinches your clit between two fingers, hard enough that you almost miss his next words as you moan. “No, baby, I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he spits, and you whimper at his words. Finally, he lets go of your knees, right as you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and you moan out in protest as he ducks down to cage you between his arms again.

“Please,” you beg, voice hoarse as his hips slowly return to their pace from before. He’s still not pulling out as much, keeping his thrusts shallow as he kisses a trail up your neck and over your jaw.

“Gonna fuck you so good, you don’t ever want to leave, pretty,” he says, kisses the corner of your mouth as his hips pick up pace. You wanna cry, feeling so warm and cherished in his arms, his voice telling you how good you’re doing as the coil in your stomach tightens and tightens until you’re begging him for more. “Do you want that?”

“Yes! Yes!” You sob, rolling your hips against his like a madman as you chase your high.

Jungkook hums, smile smushed against your lips as he watches you desperately writhing beneath him. “Yeah? You want that?” You nod, mewls swallowed by his kisses. “Then cum for me, pretty girl.”

You whimper, just as he bucks into you once more, and suddenly you’re falling apart. It starts in your lower back, the ecstasy climbing it’s way through your body until you’re quivering and sobbing in his embrace, muffling your sounds against his shoulder. The muscles in your entire body tighten painfully, until suddenly a wave of contentment washes over you, and you’re too weak to even hold onto him anymore, arms flopping back onto the couch cushions beneath you.

The whole time, Jungkook mutters encouragement against your jaw, keeps his thrusts short but quick, guiding you through your orgasm. When you’re done, he presses an open mouthed kiss beneath your ear, pulling away to look at your boneless frame beneath him.

A few pistons of his hips later, and Jungkook is coming inside of you, cum coating your walls as he hammers his way through his orgasm. He pulls out when he’s done, and you instantly feel your mixed arousal drip out between your thighs.

Woozy from the wine and the two orgasms, you fall asleep soon after.

——

“Good morning,” you murmur, standing at the doorway leading into the kitchen, an area you’d only been able to find after stumbling around the upstairs of the house in confusion.

Jungkook whirls around, wide eyes taking in your appearance. You clutch at the hem of the big t-shirt you’d pulled on, the only article of clothing you saw that was thrown over a chair in a bedroom you didn’t dare snoop around. “Morning,” he exhales, calculating gaze never leaving you as you tiptoe over to him by the counter.

He doesn’t say more, spluttering into action when you peek over his shoulder to see what he’s up to. “What’re you making?” You inquire, and his hands begin fidgeting with the knife.

“Oh, um,” he stutters, and perhaps he’s overly aware of your presence so close beside him, because he suddenly doesn’t remember how he’s supposed to cut an avocado. Cute, you think. “Just, um, toast with avocado spread…”

You hum. After a moment, it seems Jungkook is able to quell his nerves, and he carefully slices the avocado open, spreading its innards across the toast. He hands you the first piece, which you take after masking your own surprise, and soon after he’s turning away from the counter as the two of you eat in silence.

After a few thoughtful munches of bread, you speak. “Thanks for carrying me to bed,” you say, refusing to look at him.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, almost a little too fast and you barely bite down a grin as he rambles on. “Wasn’t gonna leave you on the couch, especially not when you were so tired after… ah, yeah.”

It’s the reserved way he carries himself that gives you the balls to look at him. His ears are flushed adorably red, like when you were at dinner last night talking about his job, and all you wanna do is pinch his cheeks. “Yeah,” you agree, and then add with an air of faux shyness, “you were really cool last night.”

It’s the little devil in you begging to jump out, curious to see how far you can push Jungkook before he shifts into that suave version of himself from last night, and you would feel bad had the corner of his lips not tilted up in amusement.

He chokes out a laugh, mutters a “yeah?” and you don’t stop yourself when you jump into his arms and kiss that avocado spread right off his lips.

——

On Tuesday afternoon, Kim Namjoon is in the midst of delivering another sermon-like speech on the importance of utilizing your student ID when visiting any of the Starbucks within a two mile radius of your school, when you spot a chestnut head of hair from the corner of your eye.

“Sorry, Joon! My ride's here!” You yelp, shoving your notebook into your bag as you stumble over yourself in your haste to leave.

Namjoon blinks. “Huh? I thought you lived on campus?”

You nod, that giddy feeling starting up in your chest as he comes closer to where you and Namjoon have taken up residence on a table in the commons for your weekly meeting, and by the time he reaches the table Namjoon is still in the midst of questioning you.

“Jungkook,” You say, all dreamily and dazed, and you know this because Doyeon caught you with this same exact look on your face after he dropped you off at the dorms Sunday afternoon.

Namjoon startles. “What the f—“

“Hi,” Jungkook beams, leans down to brush a kiss against your cheek, which only serves to make you even more ditzy and dumb in the face of this handsome man. “Oh, hey, hyung.”

“What’re you doi—“

“All set?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring whatever his beloved senior was saying in favor of taking your bag off your shoulders. You nod, have to swallow a giggle down when he takes your hand in his. “Bye, hyung.”

“Bye, Joon!” You barely remember to throw over your shoulder, too busy wrapping yourself around Jungkook’s arm to hear Namjoon blabber in shock. 

“Kids these days,” he huffs.

[ part 2 ; hulu & woohoo ]

[etherrreal]

“chrysanthemums”

Pairing: kuroo x gn!reader Genre: fluff Prompt: “i just want to see you happy.” WC: 903 Warnings: none! just some calm fluff despite the angst high i’ve been on lately, lmao A/N: “our drabbles can just be around 500 words,” i told Luna once, only to remember whilst writing this that i’m a liar. loving these prompt requests though, and a major shoutout to the anon who requested this one, hope you enjoy <3! -Dawn

You’re nearing the end of your latest math lesson, pleased to discover that most of your students are still listening, when the bouquet arrives.

It’s absolutely gorgeous and nearly half the size of the coworker who’s kind enough to bring it to you, an arrangement of vibrant roses and red chrysanthemums. Your students erupt into a wave of excited chatter as soon as they spot it, some ooh-ing, some aah-ing, and some ew-ing at your expense, like their middle school teacher receiving flowers is simultaneously the most exciting and nauseating thing to happen all week.

It causes enough of a commotion to reassure you that whatever hope you have of powering through the last leg of your math lesson is gone, but you can’t find it in yourself to be upset about it. Not when you know exactly who sent you the flowers, and definitely not when the sight of them makes you feel as giddy as you do now.

Your coworker looks almost apologetic for all the chaos she’s caused within your classroom, but you wave her off and thank her, taking the flowers from her and depositing them safely onto your desk.

Your students are still giggling as you do so, but luckily for you, it’s their lunchtime. You shoo them out despite their protests, but you do confirm that yes, the bouquet is a gift from your boyfriend, and no, you will not be reading the card attached out loud to them, no matter how much they beg. There are some disappointed pouts as a result, but they’re placated enough by the promise of food awaiting them that you’re able to get them out the door without any further incident.

Finally left to your own devices, you pull out your phone and snap a picture of the flowers where they rest on your desk, typing out a text to Kuroo to show your appreciation.

[[you]]:: i hope u know u almost caused a mutiny in my classroom with these but they’re beautiful so i’ll allow it ❤️ tysm baby!!

[[tetsu 🐓❤️]]:: just doing my part to keep you and today’s youth on your toes 😌

[[you]]:: can’t believe u actually sent me flowers at work...damn do u have a crush on me or something 👀

[[tetsu 🐓❤️]]:: unfortunately yes 😔 super embarrassing, i know

You roll your eyes as you read his last message, but there’s a dorky smiley on your face and a warmth settling into your chest that you can’t ignore. You’re just about to type out a witty response when he surprises you with a FaceTime.

You answer it on the first ring, not even bothering to say hello before you tell him, “You wrote a haiku using chemistry puns on the card you sent me, and I’m the embarrassing one?”

“What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.” Kuroo is already grinning at you, and though you make a show of calling him a moron, it’s comforting to know he’s as happy to see you as you are to see him, even if it’s just through a phone screen. “Do you like them?”

“I love them,” you correct, glancing at the flowers to your right. You run your fingertips over the soft petals, a smile curving its way onto your lips. “They’re beautiful. What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion. I just want to see you happy.”

“Well, it worked. As you can see, I’ve been sitting here with the most obnoxious grin imaginable on my face for the past five minutes, and it’s entirely your fault.”

Kuroo laughs, and you smile to yourself because of how much you love the sound, how much you love him. Three years into your relationship, and you still feel like you’re in the honeymoon phase. He’s always finding new little ways to surprise you, little gestures that confirm just how much he adores you, and every time it just makes you fall a little more in love with him.

And even though you know things won’t always be perfect, it’s moments like these that remind you why it’s all worth it.

“I should be done with work early today,” he says suddenly, making you perk up with interest. “Want me to pick you up for dinner? We can go to that barbecue place you’ve been wanting to try.”

“Barbecue?” You let out a dreamy sigh, already looking forward to it. A bouquet of flowers and a romantic dinner with your best-friend-turned-boyfriend is exactly what you need after a long week of teaching. “Mm, I love you.”

He lets out an amused little hum, and you watch as he raises an eyebrow at you, eyeing you playfully. “Are you talking to me, or the potential barbecue?”

You blink, pretending to consider it. “Uh, both?”

He laughs again. “Yeah, yeah. I love you, too, traitor. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon, baby.”

You blow him a kiss, and you’re just about to end the call when you hear a chorus of little voices sounding not too far from you.

“Ewwwww!”

You look up, and sure enough, a handful of your students have returned. They’re standing in the doorway of the classroom, a few of them grinning wickedly at you while the others gag dramatically.

Kuroo cracks up right along with you, and for a while after that, the two of you can’t look at any kind of flowers without laughing.

Written by: Dawn

[spacedikut]

lockdown lovers ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: lockdown!au. spencer goes from expecting his days to be filled with books, books and more books to books, an asshole cat, and a cute anonymous neighbour. 4857 words

a/n: i was so excited about this and stayed up writing it so i hope you like it too :)

masterlist

It’s three days into lockdown when Spencer notices the cat.

It’s a Maine Coon, he recognises instantly, but there’s this distinctive… dead look in it’s eyes. The body is huge – so fluffy it looks like the cat has a mane, ears invariably up straight and large enough that the eyes look beady in comparison. A mixture of white and grey throughout, the cat spends its days lounging across the windowsill of the apartment in the building next to Spencer’s.

He’s fascinated. How can a cat be so big, so ugly, yet so lovely?

He has to know more.

If he was anyone else, he’d argue the obsession is the fruit of going stir-crazy in his apartment. A lack of seeing his friends combined with having to work cases from home would be the perfect justification for Spencer to move his work station to the window facing the cat.

But this is Spencer. He’s happy being stuck home. He just likes the look of the cat.

He spends a good twenty minutes rifling through his stationary to find a piece of paper and the appropriate pen to jot a note for the cat owner. He thinks the owner must be stuck home, too, so if he sticks the note to his window and waits a day, he could know the cat’s name within twenty four hours.

They’ve had plenty of staring contests. Spencer should know his rival’s name.

So he does. He takes his time writing out the words “I like your cat. Do they have a name?” clearly on the paper, then spends a good five minutes deciding where on the window to stick the message.

He decides on the upper left corner. You won’t miss it.

The cat blinks sleepily at him as they watch Spencer tape the question up.

There’s an answer within three hours.

Spencer is too excited to be embarrassed at how enthused he was when he noticed the response.

Or when he saw the name.

Hi there! His name is Mr Darcy :) He’s a dick x

Spencer can’t help but profile the writing, the syntax, the grammar.

The first thing he notices is there’s a feminine lilt to the way you write – you’re a woman, most likely. The writing is slightly messy, indicating high intelligence, and the use of a smiley face and a kiss makes him think you’re younger in age. If you live alone, which you must because you live in a one bedroom apartment, he can safely guess you’re around his age.

And Mr Darcy… you’re a bookworm. At least for romance and the classics.

Spencer likes Mr Darcy. He has so many questions, suddenly, like how is Mr Darcy a dick and how old is he and why does he never seem to move from his position by the window and what is your name and who are you and do you happen to read a lot of books? Like Ray Bradbury? Please say yes.

He shocks himself. Maybe this quarantine is getting to him more than he realises. He hasn’t felt this excited since Maeve.

He hasn’t been this intrigued since Maeve. And the circumstances are similar, he realises.

No. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Spence.

He worries himself into a spiral when he begins thinking about how to reply. As if she can hear his whining, Penelope calls him.

They’ve made it a habit to call one another a lot. She recently taught him how to use his webcam and has been encouraging him to write more on his computer, rather than by hand.

“Good afternoon, my favourite Doctor.” She sings. He hears some shuffling in the background and can tell she’s baking.

“I need your help with something.” He cuts straight to the chase.

Her interest is piqued, “Oh? I am all ears.”

“Remember the cat I mentioned?”

“The ugly-but-beautiful majestic beast that, if you believed in reincarnation, would’ve been a high class gentleman in his past life? Yes. I think about him every day.”

“His name’s Mr Darcy.”

She lets out a screech, a mixture of a groan and moan that is filled with pure glee. “Of course he’s called Mr Darcy! Tell me everything. How do you know?”

He’s clearly impressed with himself when he says, “I asked.”

“Whoa.” Penelope freezes in her kitchen. “Are you, Doctor Germaphobe, breaking the lockdown rules?”

Spencer feels insulted. “No! Never! I stuck a note to my window, like in that viral tweet you sent me.”

She chuckles, “Well, I already told you I could’ve told you everything about Mr Darcy and the owner if you wanted me to. I am incredible.”

“I appreciate the gesture, Garcia-“

“But it’s morally wrong. Yeah, yeah, heard it all before. What have you said back?”

“That’s what I need your help with.”

Garcia is only a little surprised he’s asking her and not Derek. But, then, as much as she loves Derek, he’s a bit too.. much for someone like Spencer when it comes to love. Spencer approaches people gently, hesitantly, often giving the impression he doesn’t even want to be there.

Derek can have anyone on their knees within minutes.

Different tactics, that’s all.

“Alright, pretty boy. How long have you been talking? Purely through window messages? What else has been said?”

“Well,” He begins, clearing his throat, making eye contact with Mr Darcy, “We’ve only spoken once. When I asked for Mr Darcy’s name. You know, studies have shown that animals can form lifelong friendships with other animals, even if they’re not from the same species.”

“Spencer.”

“Most research has focused on chimpanzees, baboons, horses, hyenas, elephants, bats, and dolphins - but there’s no reason to think that friendship is exclusive to these species.”

“Spencer!”

“What?”

“You’ve spoken to them once?”

“Her. Spoken to her once. And it wasn’t speaking, it was writing.”

There’s a long sigh down the phone. “First of all, how do you know the owner’s a girl?”

There’s movement in Mr Darcy’s apartment. Spencer stares. “The way she writes.”

“Uhuh,” Spencer can hear her stirring something through the phone, “And what was the last thing said?”

Spencer’s eyes narrow – is that a person? Is that the owner? Is that her? Oh my god.

“Spencer? You still there?” Garcia looks to her laptop, checking the call is still connected.

“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry. The last thing she said was his name is Mr Darcy and he’s a dick.”

“Oh,” Garcia smirks, “It’s sexy hearing you say dick.”

In normal circumstances, Spencer would register her comment and give a very distinct huh, but he’s distracted.

He sees Mr Darcy meow. A hand appears, petite, with fingernails painted yellow that have smiley faces on them. She brushes Mr Darcy’s fur back, pulling so the skin around his eyes tugs up high and he looks stupid. He seems to like it, though.

She must like smileys, he thinks.

Mr Darcy stands and stretches. He’s alarmingly long.

It’s silent on Garcia’s end, where she looks confused at the sudden silence. She checks again that the call is still connected.

“Spence?”

“Still here. Sorry. I thought I saw her.”

“Oooo,” She’s all giddy, “What does she look like? Is she pretty?”

“I couldn’t see her properly. I can tell she’s too cool for me already. This was stupid.” He sighs, “Forget I said anything. I’ll take knowing Mr Darcy’s name and move on with my life.”

Spencer moves to hang up, but is interrupted by a loud “No!” being shouted at him by Garcia.

“No, Spencer! No! You write something back to her right now and you form a friendship with someone that isn’t one of your colleagues. I love you with my whole heart, and you know that, but it would be good for you to expand your social circle!” She grins and bites her tongue between her teeth, “Aaaand.. this could be the start of a quarantine romance. God, I miss dating.”

At the mention of romance, Spencer visibly flinches. “I’ll see what I can do. I gotta go, Garcia, thanks for calling.”

“Love you. Please marry her so Mr Darcy can be the ring bearer.”

And she hangs up. He’s left contemplating whether he should respond, and what he should respond, as he watches the empty space where Mr Darcy is absent.

It must be dinner time for him.

+++

I’m curious as to how someone named Mr Darcy can be a dick.

That’s a good response, right?

Right?

It lets you know he gets the reference, he knows who Mr Darcy is named after, and leads you to continue the conversation. It’s perfect.

It’s taken him nearly two hours to come up with it. He feels exhausted.

He sticks it on the window, where Mr Darcy has returned to, and huffs out a breath.

He reminds himself to be calm and cool. This is simply a way to pass the time during quarantine, there’s no need to put too much pressure on himself to think it’s anything more or to put more effort than is necessary (he says, after spending two hours formulating a response).

Calm and cool. Cool and calm. Neither are words Spencer would ever use to describe himself.

Spencer stays up until nearly 1am reading. Just before he sleeps, he walks to the kitchen to get some water, and can’t resist checking to see if you’ve responded.

You have. He ignores the way his heart speeds up.

He used to share the windowsill with my other cat and a bunch of plants. Now he bites anything that attempts to move near him. He also likes to vomit on my pillow. My single pillow.

Spencer chuckles as he reads it. He remembers when the window was full of plants, and how one day they all just… disappeared. He assumed the person moved out, but now it’s funny to think that you had to move them all because Mr Darcy demanded he own that space.

He doesn’t recall ever seeing another cat.

Well, now he has to respond. He needs to know about the other cat!

He imagines Derek coming to him in an apparition, like some sort of angel, and saying, calm and cool, kid. Calm and cool.

Spencer decides he’ll reply in the morning. Cause he’s calm and cool, and totally doesn’t want to know anything and everything about you and the two cats you live with.

+++

The messages continue for days. Spencer learns a lot, despite his “attempts” to not profile you (“attempts” as in there was really no attempt).

He learns you were given Mr Darcy by a friend, he’s two years old, and your other cat is the recently adopted, affectionately named Stupid Sally. She’s a ginger cat, estimated to be at least four years old, and you refuse to believe there’s anything going on in that tiny head of hers.

Spencer catches a glimpse of Sally a couple of days after he learns her name. She jumps up beside Mr Darcy, bonks her head on the window, then is whacked by Mr Darcy and falls from the windowsill. Sally doesn’t make another attempt.

He still hasn’t seen you, though. The longer he talks to you, the more he wants Garcia to send him everything she can find on you.

But he has restraint. And fear.

He wants to know more, wants to learn more about the anonymous girl in the opposite building. He doesn’t even know your name, and he assumes you don’t know his, and he’s not entirely sure what number apartment you live in.

He considers asking to convert your conversation from post-it notes on windows to hand-written letters, but that reminds Spencer too much of Maeve and he can’t handle that.

Do you know how difficult it is for Spencer Reid, with all his knowledge and facts and ramblings, to limit himself and how much he says?

It’s torture.

The sun is blinding when Spencer pulls his curtain back, eyes navigating to see if there’s a new message waiting.

I haven’t asked, do you have any cats? Any pets? Mr Darcy would be a terrible boyfriend but Sally could use a lover :)

Before he can stop himself, his mind is whirring with the possible implications of your message. Does this mean you want to meet? You want to know about him as much as he wants to know about you? You’re interested?

He needs to call Penelope. He wants to talk to you so badly, learn everything there is to know, but he can’t bring himself to do it. The situation reminds him of Maeve and, although it’s been so long, he’s still mourning. He’s not sure he’s ready.

Turns out he doesn’t need to worry. You’ve got your own plan.

+++

“So,” Your friend sighs, flopping onto the couch, “You got his number? His name? Anything?”

“No,” You pout, “Not even sure he’s a guy.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

You playfully gasp. “I don’t know what you’re implying, but I am insulted.”

She chuckles. She knows all about your curious neighbour - she’s the one that encouraged you to reply and keep replying. And now she’s the one trying to convince you to form an actual friendship.

“Just put your number on your window.”

“Do you know how dangerous that is?!” You scold, “Anyone could see it!”

“Yeah, but neighbour guy could see it. And text you. And be really cute.”

You can’t help but glance behind you, into your bedroom window, where the infamous window is. Mr Darcy lounges, completely zonked out with the sunshine keeping him warm.

“What’s the worst that can happen? Some random people text you and you, what, block them? That’s it. Easy.”

Life is so easy for extroverts, you think.

You grab your notebook, rip a piece out and jot down your number before you have a change of heart. You’re essentially double messaging through the medium of your window messaging. But who cares?

What have you got to lose?

+++

Spencer stares at your phone number for way too long. Mr Darcy, as if sensing Spencer’s battle, lazily lifts a paw and rests it against the paper, pushing it into the window.

Spencer dials Penelope’s number straight from memory.

“I was beginning to think you’d died, Spencer-“

“Is it a terrible idea to start texting with Mr Darcy’s owner?”

“What?!” She exclaims, “No! No no no no no! That is an incredible idea! Spencer, please tell me you’re texting her!”

Penelope’s excitement gives him a rush of confidence. She’s always so supportive, so encouraging. Penelope is the best.

“I’m staring at her phone number. I just- we know what happened last time..” He trails off, voice meek. He wants to pretend he isn’t constantly thinking about the worst outcome, but he is. He’s scared.

Penelope’s voice is soft down the phone, “Spence. You have nothing to be afraid of, okay? I’m so proud of you for even considering texting her. But if you truly think you’re not ready, maybe you’re not. But remember, this doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to. You can keep the conversation to cats and cats only.”

Spencer smiles even though she can’t see him. She’s right. It doesn’t have to be anything and, honestly, it’s likely it won’t be anything – after all, Spencer isn’t exactly confident when it comes to women.

She might also have a boyfriend. A husband. A wife. He doesn’t know.

He realises he’s started thinking way too deep about someone he doesn’t even know the name of.

“Does that silence mean you’re gonna text her?” Penelope questions, suspense and hope clear in her voice.

“Yeah,” He replies, glancing at Mr Darcy, “I am.”

+++

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: Hello. I’m Spencer.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner] hello??????? do i know a spencer?

Embarrassment flushes through him. What a weird way to introduce yourself, he chastises himself, Great first impression.

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s owner]: Sorry. I’m the one that’s been asking about your cats through the window.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: really? prove it

He wants to feel insulted that you’re so suspicious, but is simultaneously impressed that you’re so cautious. It makes sense to worry after posting your number for anyone to see.

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: Of course. I’ll put a note on my window with my number now.

He does just that, shuffling quickly and frantically like he does when his mind is moving a thousand miles a minute during a case. He slaps the note against the window, unable to resist hovering on the off chance he spots you.

His phone buzzes.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: oh hi spencer! im Y/N, owner of Mr Darcy and sally :)

He can’t help but chuckle at the sudden change of tone. You take stranger danger seriously, it seems.

Why does he find that so endearing?

He’s getting ahead of himself, again. Calm and cool.

They pick up the conversation from where the last note left off, where you asked Spencer if he has any pets of his own. He finds it much easier to talk to you like this, rambling and all, which you don’t seem to mind. Your texting style is distinctively different to his, making his phone vibrate multiple times as you send each sentence of your message separately. He prefers writing chunks full of information, all with perfect grammar and punctuation.

You teach him what ‘wtf’ means and when he sends a meme to Penelope with that caption she loses her damn mind.

She decides she loves you there and then.

A friendship blossoms. It’s odd, he doesn’t know what you look like and you admit to catching a glimpse of him when he showed you his number through the window, but other than that you have no idea what the other looks like.

You know so much about eachother’s lives, though, and so much about eachother. You know which apartment you both live in, he’s got a whole list of reasons why Mr Darcy is a dick and he kind of agrees, you even know that he’s an FBI agent.

Then it happens.

He discovers what you look like.

He wants to play it off as an accident, he really does, but that would be a complete and utter lie.

The area under the window opposite yours has become his new sanctuary. He spends way too much time there, reading and whatnot, and he tries to pretend that it’s so he can watch Mr Darcy all day every day, but there’s always been a part of him that wants you to walk by. Maybe stop right in the centre of the window, pause, let him get a good look.

That’s exactly what happens.

He’s doing some “light” reading before he moves to his bed, where he will continue to read, and he sees the main light in your bedroom switch on. You always have a light on – you’re scared of the dark, just like him, but the main light catches his attention because Mr Darcy looks back and meows.

Someone’s in the room.

For some reason, he can’t tear his eyes away. It’s not the first time he’s noticed someone flutter around the room, never managing to really show themselves. It could the best friend you told Spencer about, the one that you’ve been stuck living with the past month or so.

But it’s not.

A girl appears, wearing an oversized t-shirt and shorts with still-wet hair. She dangles a cat toy before Mr Darcy, which he swipes at twice, then looks away, uninterested.

She rolls her eyes at that, then starts dancing and mouthing along to a song Spencer doesn’t recognise. Now he can’t stop staring – she’s captivating, whoever she is, as she prances around her room, arms flailing around and serenading a very unimpressed Mr Darcy.

This has to be you, he thinks. He doesn’t know why, but this has to be you.

Your passionate singing dies out. It’s the end of the song. Before the next one can begin, you happen to look up and through the window, straight at Spencer.

And you disappear.

You collapse. You definitely scream a little, dramatically falling to the floor and hiding under the window with your back to the wall.

Holy shit. You think. He’s cute and he saw me singing to my asshole cat.

He must think I’m crazy.

Spencer keeps staring at the now empty space of your window, Mr Darcy having been spooked by your exit.

He thinks he might be in love.

+++

Neither of you know what to say to one another after what transpired.

You’re too embarrassed, Spencer feels a little star-struck, and you’re both speechless.

Neither of you expected the other to be so.. attractive.

Your phone is thrown in your lap. “Do it. Do it now.”

In a daze, you blink up at your friend, “I can’t.”

“Don’t make me threaten you.”

You blink.

“I know where he lives. I will obliterate the lockdown rules to go talk to him and drag him here, then you can deal with this face-to-face.”

Your mouth falls open. “Are you insane?”

She unlocks your phone, opens your conversation with Spencer, and places it in your hand.

“Yes.”

+++

[From: Y/N :)]: did you at least enjoy the performance…..

Spencer’s whole body prickles when he sees you’ve texted him.

Maybe Penelope’s manifesting did work.

[To: Y/N :)]: I did. I didn’t expect our face reveals to be so…

I honestly don’t know what to say.

[From: Y/N :)]: s doctor reid speechless? am i that talented?

Spencer lies back on his couch, beaming at his phone like a teenager in a cheesy chick flick.

[To: Y/N :)]: You’re very talented. Mr Darcy clearly disagrees, but don’t listen to him.

And just like that, you’re back in the flow of things.

+++

When July rolls around, you and Spencer have been talking every day since March. Despite the monotonous, repetitive days, Spencer wakes up giddy when he sees you’ve texted him. He usually wakes up earlier than you, you have a habit of playing games or watching television until the early hours of the morning, and he loves to send you a fact to wake up to.

Your favourite are the animal facts. He got Amazon Prime just so he could buy a plethora of animal books and watch animal documentaries. All for you.

At one point, you evolved to phone calls. They don’t happen often and the first one was while you were drunk, but they’re fun for the both of you.

It had been a Saturday, you and your friend were having a movie marathon with wine and of course she brought up Spencer. She choked on her drink when you told her you haven’t heard his voice or seen him since the incident.

“You should call him,” She slurred, “Tonight.”

“He’s working on his jigsaw. I’m not going to interrupt.”

She gave you this incredulous look, asking Really?

“What?! I have respect for him and his jigsaws!”

“Have respect for yourself and how cute he is!”

“That doesn’t make sense!”

She sighed, placing her glass on the coffee table with a clunk, “Picture this: you’re helping him with the jigsaw.”

You couldn’t hide the slight upturn of your lips at the thought. You both love jigsaws, doing one with him would be stupidly romantic to you.

“Yeah.” She nodded ridiculously, “That ain’t gonna happen if you don’t call him!”

In your drunken state, you realised she’s right. You called him that night for a total of ten minutes before you passed out after calling him super handsome.

You both went to sleep feeling warm inside. Spencer called you again the next day, where the call lasted nearly two hours, and it went from there.

But now the lockdown rules are being eased. People are going back to work, meaning establishments like restaurants and hairdressers are opening up with limited capacity, all breathing beings expected to wear a mask.

Neither of you have mentioned actually meeting one another. You’re too nervous. What if he doesn’t like you? What if the image he’s created of you in his head is way better than you are in real life and he’s disappointed? What if he doesn’t want to meet you?

Spencer worries about the exact same things.

So neither of you say anything.

+++

It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes Spencer’s mail gets sent to the wrong address. Perhaps to his neighbour, the person living across the hall, or someone on a completely different floor.

Twice, Spencer’s mail has been delivered to the apartment building next door. The building he now exclusively calls “Y/N’s building”.

Now it’s three times.

Unphased by the mask on his face, Spencer glances around the lobby of your apartment building and wonders what your routine is when you get home. Do you immediately check for packages? Look at the noticeboard? Or do you go straight up to your apartment?

Spencer walks to the reception desk, smiling politely even though the person can’t see it.

“Hi, I’m from the building next door. I think my mail was accidentally sent here?”

He clicks a few buttons, types a few things, then flippantly asks, “Apartment number?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Let me go get it.”

He takes his time leaving his chair and wandering through a door. Spencer glances around. There’s a few people, all wearing masks (Thank God), doing their own thing.

There’s two girls next to him. He eavesdrops, because he’s bored.

“I’m too used to living with you now,” The girl facing him pouts, “I don’t want to go.”

The girl with her back to him laughs, light and sweet, “You live a block away.”

“You know Sally is gonna miss me.”

Sally? As in…

“She’s gonna miss you only because you feed her too much and now she’s fat.”

Wait.

“C’mon, Y/N-“

Spencer blocks out the rest cause holy hell. You’re right there. You’re standing right next to Spencer, in all your glory, and you have no idea that he’s right there, too.

Should he say something? Should he introduce himself? Should he..

“Here, sir. My apologies for the mix-up.” The receptionist re-appears, handing Spencer his mail.

“Thank you.”

And Spencer leaves.

Except he doesn’t.

He stops outside the reception entrance, takes out his phone, and texts you.

[To: Y/N :)] This is weird but I’m right outside your building. I think you’re in the foyer and I’m too scared to approach you.

Two minutes pass before the building doors fly open.

Your head swivels back and forth. When you find Spencer, adorable and awkward Spencer, he can tell you’re grinning from the way your eyes bunch up under your mask. God, he knows you have the most beautiful smile. Everything about you is beautiful.

“Hi,” You breathe.

Spencer mouths a silent hi. You’ve taken his breath away.

“I-um. It’s good to see you in person.” Your voice is soft. It’s soft, and smooth, and so much prettier in real life. It’s already pretty through the phone, but the real version shoots straight to his heart.

He gulps, “Yeah, it’s.. Unexpected, but nice.” The corners of his mouth quirk up and he can’t tear his eyes away from you, “You’re even more gorgeous in real life.”

The compliment rolls off his tongue naturally because it’s true and from the second he spotted you he’s lost all logical thinking.

“I am?” You ask, gentle and hesitant, almost asking are you sure you mean me?

Spencer blushes, somewhat embarrassed by his confession. But he meant it, Spencer’s not the type to say things he doesn’t mean, and you don’t give him time to regret it-

“Would you like to get some coffee? If you’re free now?”

Would it be too much if he screams Yes?

“Yes. I’m free,” He ignores the mail in his hands, stuffing it in his satchel, “But let’s avoid Café Nero, I assume you still haven’t recovered from the nightmare latte you had there.”

You grin, which makes Spencer feel fuzzy, flattered that he remembers anecdotes from your texts.

Of course he remembers. You remember he has an eidetic memory.

You shyly brush your hair behind your ears, both sides, and Spencer spots the bright red of them. You’re flushed, just like him, and it fills him with confidence to know you’re the same mixture of excited and anxious about meeting him in person.

“W-what about your friend?” Spencer gestures vaguely to where he assumes she’d be, “Would she mind?”

“She’s the reason I ran out here, so… I think she’d be mad if we didn’t leave her behind.”

You smile at one another, a few feet apart. Spencer’s bumped into by the opening door of your apartment complex and stumbles, apologising profusely to the unimpressed woman that just stares at him.

Through the entire ordeal you watch Spencer, only him, and can’t stop the radiant, love-filled look on your face.

Maybe Mr Darcy isn’t such a dick when he’s the reason Spencer came into your life.

[jjkclub]

sa-yo-na-ra

pairing - ash x eiji

genre - angst

warnings - violence, blood, major character death.

word count - 1k+

summary : based on an alternate universe where eiji died when he was shot.

(i was listening to yellow - coldplay while writing this so i'd recommend y'all to listen to that too !!)

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

さよなら ( • goodbye )

ash gripped his pencil tight as he tried to write the foreign letters on the piece of paper eiji provided him; eiji's smaller hands on his as he guided him to write more easily.

"how do you say this word and what does it mean?" 

ash asked, slightly tilting his head to the left as curiosity sparkled in his eyes to which eiji felt himself drowning in his gorgeous, jade orbs. at the sight of ash snapping his fingers in front of his face, eiji realized that he was day dreaming before quickly shaking his head, trying to get out of his head space to answer ash's question.

"oh, it's 'sa-yo-na-ra'. it means 'goodbye' " he smiled as ash furrowed his eyebrows, trying to pronounce the new word he had just learnt. after a few rough trials, he smiled brightly, 

"sa-yo-na-ra!"

his proud smile made eiji feel warm and giddy inside. it made him want to pull him into his arms tightly, protecting him from the cruel world he lives in and never letting him go. he smiled up at the younger boy, praising him for his almost perfect pronunciation.

he pulled the discarded pencil and paper back towards him to scribble a few words in japanese and its english translation on it as something caught his eye.

"ASH LOOK OUT-"

numb. he felt numb all over. 'what's happening?' eiji thought as the sudden numbness turned into a harsh, piercing pain in his chest as he felt himself falling backwards. 'wh-why… does it hurt so much all of a sudden?'

out of pure instinct, he turned towards ash, his vision turning blurry as he struggled to breathe, squinting his eyes to try and make out ash's face. he brought his hand up to hold his chest, trying to lessen the pain as he felt a sticky liquid all over.

'oh,' he thought, staring at his blood-covered hand as he looked back up at ash. 

"EIJI !! eiji look at me !! you're going to be fine just-"

'huh? what is ash saying?' he tried to focus his eyes on him but he could barely make out the specks of green or the splash of blonde. oh, how he loved that shade of green.

ash felt his hands shake uncontrollably at the sight of eiji bleeding out in front of him. he felt a sharp pang in his chest. 'please… not you too…' he thought as he cried, tears running down his cheeks as he tried to stop the bleeding.

he knew he wouldn't make it. he hated himself for knowing but there was just no way anyone could survive a direct bullet to the heart. ash felt his throat tightening painfully, choking on sobs as his tears fell on eiji's face while he could do nothing. nothing but watch the face of his best friend, no, lover- drain itself of all colour.

 'why, why, WHY?! why would you push me out of the way?! why would you hurt yourself for me?! why would you take that damn bullet for me?!' 

"a..ash…" 

he looked up at eiji's face as he realized he had tucked himself to the crook of his neck, those beautiful green eyes eiji loved, now red from crying. he watched with pained eyes as eiji tried to lift his hand up, cupping ash's face softly as he whispered,

"for you, i'd do this all over again.."

ash pressed eiji's cold hand against his cheek, desperately trying to warm it back up, trying to bring back the shy, smiley boy who was just holding his hands, caring for him in a way no one had ever before.  as eiji's hand started to grow limp, he felt his blood run cold.

eiji… he wasn't breathing anymore.

ash felt his mind blank out, his body moving in auto-pilot as he felt himself getting up on his feet, pulling out the smith & wesson revolver out of the waistband of his jeans as he walked out of the room.

catching sight of the man who shot eiji, who was now trying to run for his life; he lifted his arm up, aimed and pulled the trigger; shooting his lower back as he screamed out in pain, falling face first on the hard, wooden floor. 

his whole world started to blur. 'you… you killed him… the one person who cared.. who gave me hope in this stupid place.. YOU KILLED HIM!'. ash couldn't think straight. all he could see was eiji's soft, innocent face smiling up at him as he shot the immobile man under him mercilessly.

ash's eyes were cold and lifeless, his mind was blank. he didn't care when sing tried to stop him, he didn't care when lao tried to shoot him, he couldn't care about anything anymore. 'why bother? eiji is… he's dead.' 

he found himself walking back to the room where eiji was trying to teach him japanese. he felt his body drop to the floor with a loud thud, his knees landing right beside eiji's now motionless body as he felt his heart being ripped out of his chest.

'he didn't deserve it… it should have been me… why, why would you do that? for someone as unworthy as me?'

sing's heart ached for ash, never having seen the blonde in such a vulnerable situation before as he felt guilty. it was one of his men that killed eiji. he hadn't noticed his own eyes welling up with tears as he stared at ash's heartbreaking state, scared to approach him.

ash reached forward, slightly brushing eiji's hair off his face and cupping it ever so gently to look at him better, another wave of fresh tears crashing over him as he bit his quivering lip. 

'i promised i'd protect you. i'm sorry i couldn't. god, i'm so fucking sorry. i'm just not meant to be happy and i'm so sorry i dragged you into my world. you deserved so much better than- than someone like me..'  ash whispered softly as his voice cracked. 

he regretted everything. he regretted getting close to him, regretted befriending him, regretted finding comfort in him. eiji was dead and he wasn't coming back and it broke him more than anything.

'i didn't even get to say i love you…'

[forestwater87]

Chapter 15: Grand Gesture

Summary: GRAND GESTURE: He or she must be willing to put it all on the line now or risk losing the one thing they need to become whole-hearted. It’s life or death now.

CW: Smut in the last third of the chapter. Questionable quality.

Summer 2017

“Fuck!” Gwen felt her center of gravity shift as she leaned forward, overbalancing on the rickety chair she’d been using to reach the ceiling. It tipped perilously on two legs, then lost the fight with physics and sent her sprawling with a crash that shook the dozens of tiny papers taped around the room. She hit the ground with her hip and the side of her face, one of them making a disturbing crunch sound and both shooting bright white pain down her entire right side. “Shit!”

She was halfway to her feet, wondering if the crossed-eyes dizzy feeling was from lack of sleep, hitting her head, or marker fumes, when fingers closed around her upper arm and she was hauled upright. “Gwen! Goodness, are you okay?” David let go of her, his gaze roving around the room as he took a step back. “What happened in here?”

She looked around, taking a deep breath and noticing for the first time in hours the thick perfume of tacky glue and paint, as though David walking in had turned her senses back on. It was done, mostly. Well, no — it’d never really be done, but it was enough to prove her point.

She hoped.

While she was panicking, David had wandered over to the center of the room, ducking to avoid a string of origami animals dangling from the ceiling. “Is this for camp?”

“Yes — I mean, no, it’s from camp, and maybe we can reuse some of it but no, it’s . . . not really . . .” She’d planned this, during her mad crafting frenzy: how David would come home, wonder what she was doing, and she’d carefully tour him through everything — or maybe she’d let him get on with his morning routine while she added a few more things, made it just a bit closer to perfect.

But his presence had pulled her to a halt. She’d been like a shark all night, afraid to stop moving or she’d die, but now that he was here she felt drained, the giddy, terrified adrenaline that’d been keeping her going evaporating in an instant.

Though hey. At least she had a good reason to be tired, for once.

He frowned at her discarded supplies strewn carelessly around the room. “Are these from Art Camp?”

The question jolted her into action, and she stumbled forward jerkily, like the Tin Man without oil. “Yeah, but I already took it out of my paycheck, it’s fine. I’ll go shopping tomorrow for new stuff.” She wanted him to hear what she really meant, what she was trying to put together through exhausted babbling: that this was important, that it was worth sacrificing sleep and money for, that she loved him and she respected him and she wanted him to know that.

Finally, finally, he turned his attention to the walls. “Gwen, what is all this?”

“It’s you,” she blurted out, then winced and rested her forehead in her palm. “No, that’s not — it’s — some of the stuff you’ve taught me, look . . .” She took his hand, her nerves trembling at the brush of his fingers against her own, and pulled him toward the doorway. She’d made a messy semicircle around the room, right to left like a supermarket. Dropping his hand, she took a step back, steepling her fingers like she was praying and pressing them to her lips with another steadying breath.

She had one chance.

“Okay,” she began. “So . . .”

---

Gwen looked like she was on the verge of falling over, listing dangerously to the side as she led him across the room. There were feathers in her hair, and scraps of paper; she was speckled with color, marker and paint and even a smear of glitter glue on the tip of her nose, the pads of her fingers nearly black with a rainbow of ink that stained his hand as she held it. It was obvious she hadn’t slept, even more obvious that she desperately needed to.

But her eyes were bright even if the circles under them were dark, and she thrummed with an energy and animation David hadn’t seen all summer.

And he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt her, not when it finally felt like she’d returned to him.

“— song you taught me last year,” she said, and he felt a flash of guilt that he hadn’t been listening. She tapped the paper she’d stuck to the wall, the lyrics of his Camp Campbell song scrawled across it in uneven lines. “All the camp activities, remember? At least the most important ones.”

(It was really just the ones that fit best into the rhyme scheme, but he didn’t correct her as she moved on to a second piece of paper.)

“This is a list of all the facts about nature I’ve learned since I started here,” she continued, gesturing. This one was crammed so tightly with writing that he could barely read it, bullet points snaking in all directions and increasingly smaller handwriting as it moved down the page, until finally Gwen had started attaching sticky notes to the wall below and around the list. “I had to keep going back and adding things as I thought of them. I know I’m forgetting something, but I can’t —” She gestured around her head in a classic “scatterbrained” motion, chuckling weakly. “I’m kind of all over the place right now.”

Next: a bullseye, a pencil stuck point-first into the wall. “I couldn’t really shoot an arrow,” Gwen explained, “but remember that summer you taught me archery? I’m still pretty good at it — we went to a shooting range for Claire’s birthday last year and I was the only one who hit the target every time.”

Next: a messy drawing of a forest, a little stick figure kneeling next to a moss-covered rock. “That one time we got lost in the woods trying to find a good place for bug-catching, you got us out because you knew how to find north. You’d be pretty great in a zombie apocalypse.”

Next: a sheet of black construction paper poked through with holes, hastily taped to the back window so light from the lamp outside shone through in little pinpricks. He leaned closer and realized that they were in the rough shape of the constellations visible above Lake Lilac. “I didn't know much about stars and shit outside of, like, horoscope stuff — I mean, in the city you can’t even see them — but you always pointed out which constellations and planets were out during the summer and now I know them all too.”

And on, and on. Scale models of the crafts and activities they’d done at Camp Campbell, nature facts, and on one wall she’d tacked up a typewritten letter to the Director of Admissions at Queen’s University Belfast. Skimming it quickly, it looked to David like an application.

“I was trying to get into their Environmental Science program. I wrote about Sleepy Peak Peak and Lake Lilac,” she admitted, looking almost embarrassed. “I got in. And I mean, they’re not the best program out there, but they’re still in the top 300 worldwide so that’s pretty cool, I guess —”

“Belfast?” He leaned in closer, confirming that he’d read correctly. “Isn’t that in England?”

“Yeah.” She looked impressed, and he suppressed a weary smirk; yes, he did know a bit about the world outside of Camp Campbell. But she surprised him by adding, “I had to look that up, actually.” She shrugged. “Guess I should’ve just asked you, huh?

“Anyway, that was a couple years ago. I didn’t go, obviously,” she added, responding to his unspoken question. “International travel’s a bitch. I needed a scholarship, and my grades weren’t good enough. I think I only got in at all because of my letter.” She gestured at it, not quite meeting his eyes. “Which I never thanked you for. Or most of the stuff I’ve learned from you. I’ve been . . . kinda taking all that for granted. So, uh . . . thanks, David.”

He wanted to tell her she was welcome, that she didn’t need to thank him at all. That sharing these things with her had been the highlight of his life since they’d met, even if it hadn’t seemed like she cared about any of it. But there was a lump quivering dangerously in his throat and he didn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nodded.

After a second she cleared her throat awkwardly and led him over to a row of stick figures hanging from the ceiling. “Some of these are from Yoga Camp,” she said, pointing at a few of the ones contorted into uncomfortable shapes, “but also all that other stuff you do. Like smile exercises —” and yes, one of the stick figures had a big pink smiley face, “— and breathing techniques and stuff. I use those sometimes when I’m having a panic attack. They really help, even if smile exercises still make me feel like a dumbass most of the time.”

The decorations started to get more abstract as they made their way around the room, simple crafts and trivia giving way to colorful scribbles and symbols, representing things he’d said to her about her relationship with her parents, her love life. “You have really good advice, you know that? You could be the next Dear Abby or something, seriously. I think that’s still running.”

(It was; he read it every morning with his pre-breakfast tea.)

“These get worse, sorry . . . I was getting tired.” Gwen jerked her chin up at a wobbly butterfly — or was it a bird? — dangling over their heads. “I use your advice about hummingbird-ing all the time. With writing, mostly, but sometimes at work or something, too.”

He gently reached up and touched the bird’s feet, watching it spin in a lazy circle. Technically the idea had been his mother’s, a way to avoid burnout by flitting from one project to another and adding just a little bit to each, instead of devoting all energy and resources to one thing and slogging through until it was done. The whole idea was part of his ethos of being a counselor — wasn’t Camp Campbell a place to get a little taste of everything, after all? He remembered explaining it to Gwen during her first week at camp, just over five years ago.

He wouldn’t have ever imagined that she’d actually remembered.

He didn’t think she remembered any of this.

But the evidence was all around him — on the walls, hanging from the ceiling, dozens of examples, mementos of the tiny moments that meant everything to him. Immortalized, remembered, in increasingly sloppy handwriting and doodles.

In the corner was a bright red card that looked familiar. David moved over to it and laughed in recognition: it was one he’d sent her after her first or second summer at Camp Campbell, when he’d seen on Facebook that she was looking for work. He tugged it off the wall, careful not to damage the cheap cardstock, and smiled down at the deer wearing a plaid hunting cap, which he’d made out of tissue paper and markers (he’d gotten much better since then, thanks to a few years of Decoupage Camps).

‘Good luck on your job HUNT! I know you’ll slay the interview!’

“I’ve kept that for years to show my friends,” Gwen said, making him jump; he hadn’t realized she’d come up behind him, but she was close enough to nearly rest her head against his. “I felt like it really captured the kind of guy you were.”

Her breath prickled the side of his neck, and he distracted himself by opening the card — ‘oh deer, is this joke going on too long? I feel like it’s overkill!’ — noticing how worn the crease was, like she’d opened and closed it hundreds of times. “Does it?”

He felt her shake her head without having to face her, stray wisps of hair that’d escaped her ponytail tickling his cheek. “Not even close.”

Unable to resist, he looked back at her over his shoulder, and she took his arm, turning him around the rest of the way. He thought she was going to kiss him — she was close enough that he could see a smeary glue thumbprint on her cheek and what looked like half a smiley-face sticker in her hair — but she just took the card from him, setting it carefully on the couch before taking hold of both his hands. Her expression was grave, shining faint with hope, and between the craft debris and her naked earnestness, she looked incredibly young and vulnerable.

“There’s more,” she said, gesturing with her chin toward the far wall, “and I’ll let — I want you to look at it, but . . . I just had to tell you, I’ve been taking you for granted and it’s not right. I’ve been pretending I still think of you as this —” Pulling one of her hands away, she picked up the card again, her fingers shaking so the deer’s toothpick antlers clacked together, “— sweet, silly, kinda childish David, who belongs with someone sweet, and silly, and kinda childish. And I tried to be that and . . . I mean I sucked at it,” she said, breaking off with a weak laugh, dropping her eyes to their joined hands. “And it . . . kind of broke me. But I didn’t even think to ask if that was what you wanted, because I thought I knew what you needed, and that was — so, really fucked.” She looked back up at him, her eyes dancing with purple fire, her grip on his hand tightening. “And I — I don’t, you know so much that I don’t — I could fill the entire cabin with stuff I’ve learned from you, this doesn’t even scratch the surface.”

She paused, like she was waiting for him to interject, but David felt like he’d been turned to stone, paralyzed and unblinking while his brain whirled.

“But none of it matters if it doesn’t show . . . if you don’t know —” Her voice cracked, and she dropped his other hand, pressing a fist to her mouth. “— h-how amazing you are, how much you matter to this camp and to me and . . . and I didn’t know people could actually be happy 'til I met you. I mean, I guess I knew technically, but not that it was a real thing people actually were. But you figured it out. You’ve known what you wanted since you were a kid and then you got it and I’ve never done anything without second-guessing myself a million times but you just did it, and it meant making so many decisions about your life that could’ve turned out wrong but they didn’t because they were the right ones for you. And you knew it. You always have.” She swiped at her eyes with the heels of her hands, crying in earnest now. “You’re a marvel, David. I should’ve said that every fucking day. And I know it’s probably too little, too late, but I’m sorry. For not telling you and — and for everything.

“And I . . .” She swallowed hard, taking a few heaving breaths before continuing, and he knew she was trying to hold onto her composure even as tears poured down her cheeks, “I don’t know what you wanna do. With — with us, I mean. But you’re right, I haven’t been a good girlfriend to you, and if you don’t want to . . . if you want me to leave right now or after the summer ends or if you just wanna be friends or whatever , that’s fine. A-and — if you do . . . y’know . . .” Her face crumpled, her shoulders curling in on themselves. “I love you so much,” she managed, her words harder to make out through damp, hiccuping breaths. “Whatever — whatever you want — I — I — I trust you.”

Understanding pierced his chest, a small pinhole that allowed light to pour, warm and white, into his heart.

“I trust you.”

David hadn’t realized how desperately he’d needed to hear those words until that moment.

He stepped forward, plucking the card from her hand and tossing it onto the floor (he could make her another one, dozens if she wanted, hundreds) and tilting her chin up so he could kiss her. Her cheeks were wet under his palms, her mouth salty and acidic with the taste of not-quite-morning breath, and each brush of his lips against hers was broken by her pulling back to drag in a sobbing gasp, her mouth moving clumsily like she was as close to fainting from exhaustion and emotion as she looked.

It was, without question, the best kiss of his life.

He broke away to press his forehead against hers, sliding his hands from her face to cup the back of her neck and closing his eyes. “I love you too, Gwen,” he murmured, his heart fluttering at the giddily-incredulous, teary laugh she gave in response. “And I think you need to go to bed.”

She leaned back, and the bleary confusion on her face was so precious he rose up on his toes to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Huh? But what about . . .”

“I’ve got some stuff to think about,” he said, then gestured at the crafts she hadn’t shown him yet, “and look at. And after that . . . we should talk. But it won’t be a very good talk if you fall asleep,” he added with a laugh as her eyes drifted closed.

She opened them halfway, just enough to glare at him, but the effect would’ve been more intimidating if she hadn’t been swaying slightly. “’m fine.” The adrenaline that’d been keeping her going was clearly wearing off fast, and David was a little worried she wouldn’t make it to bed, that he’d just find her unconscious on the floor of the hallway. “You didn’t sleep either,” she accused, pointing at him with a finger stained silvery with graphite.

Goodness, he loved her so much he couldn’t stand it. “I had a nap.” Not a long one, but he was used to not sleeping much. “Get some rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“It’s already the morning,” she complained, but like a sleepy robot she turned and shuffled back toward the front of the cabin. “I’m gonna brush my teeth and shower and stuff. So I look less like a sludge goblin.”

“You do that, Gwen.” He waited until the bathroom door had clicked shut before turning back to the mess she’d made of their living room. It was almost hard to tell the difference between what was art and what was trash left over, there was so much of both; it looked like an explosion had hit a crafts store.

Gwen wasn’t someone who put a lot of effort into things she didn’t care about. It was one of the most frustrating things about having her as a coworker, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love how unabashedly honest she was, how he could read her feelings just by looking at her work.

There was the soft sound of tape unsticking and one of the decorations sagged, a corner curling away from the wall and drooping down. He pushed it carefully back into place and fumbled for his phone, setting it to camera mode.

This was worth remembering.

---

Gwen was positive she’d never be able to fall asleep; how could she, when things were still so up in the air? But she wasn’t twenty anymore, and after the exhaustion and emotional turmoil of the last few hours — days, weeks; hell, if she was being honest it’d been years since she’d truly felt well-rested — and despite the anxiety buzzing inside her skull she was out in moments.

Soft fingers in her hair drew her back to earth, and when she opened her eyes David came into focus, crouching next to her bed so they were at eye level. He smiled as she blinked at him, warmth and sunshine he probably didn’t even know he was emitting. “Goooood morning, Gwen!” he chirped, his voice way too loud for how close they were, and she winced. “Sorry,” he added, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Habit.”

“It’s fine,” she said, because she’d missed his morning bellow so much more than she could ever miss having non-punctured eardrums. She sat up, clumsily swiping at her face to double-check for drool or errant eye gunk. “Morning.”

“How are you feeling?” He hopped onto the bed, making her and everything else on the mattress bounce. He was being so . . . normal, like all the drama last night had been a dream.

Fuck it. They had some hard, painful conversations coming; she could enjoy a little bit of normalcy while her brain booted back up. “Good,” she replied, yawning. “I mean, tired, but I’m always tired so —” Her blood chilled, and suddenly she was wide awake.

There went normal. All because she had to remind him of what an unloveable disaster she was.

But when she looked back up he didn’t seem annoyed. He leaned against the wall, stretching his legs out so they dangled off the edge of the bed. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” She scoffed before she could stop herself, and his gaze flicked up to hers, taking her breath away. (God, how she’d functioned for almost four years without feeling more than a flicker of attraction to this man was unfathomable.) “Really. I want to know what’s going on with you.” His hand landed on her knee, light as a bird but blazingly warm even through her blankets. “All I want is for you to let me in.”

A swell of emotion swept up from somewhere in her chest, causing her eyes to prick with tears for the thousandth time. She looked away and sniffed as discreetly as possible — which wasn’t very, she assumed, since he immediately reached over and handed her a tissue from the pack he kept stashed in his pockets. “I mean, if you want me to complain, I can do that,” she muttered, tamping down another flow of tears through willpower. “I can complain about fucking anything.”

David’s laugh made her turn back toward him, because it didn’t have a trace of sadness or pity or anything she’d expected. It was so purely, entirely delighted , more than even he could fake, and he was looking at her like she’d said something surprising and wonderful.

“You really like it,” she blurted out, unable to hide the awe in her voice. “That I’m like this. Whiny and —” she waved vaguely “— bitchy, and whatever.”

“I don’t.” He shook his head and her stomach plummeted. But as she took a breath to respond he shifted closer, gently cupping the back of her neck so he could tap his forehead against hers. “I love it, Gwen. I love everything about you.”

A laugh burbled out of her before she could stop it, and she pulled away to hide her face. “Oh my god. You bastard. You’re so cheesy.”

His fingers closed around her wrists, tugging her palms away from her face. “I love you,” he said, kissing the skin she’d covered with her hands — the tip of her nose, each cheek, her top and bottom lip, her eyebrows.

“I love you, too.” She could already tell that if he was going to keep saying that to her she’d spontaneously combust, because this was all too cute and romantic and lovely and she still didn’t fully understand how this was happening, why he didn’t hate her.

But she’d promised she wouldn’t question his decision, whatever it was. She owed him that much.

His smile faded slightly, a faint line appearing between his eyebrows. “What’re you thinking?”

“Nothing,” she lied automatically, and when that only made him sigh she added, “I said I was going to trust you,” hating the note of defensiveness in her voice, because of the two of them she didn’t have much grounds for righteous indignation.

“Then trust me with how you feel.” It should’ve sounded too much like a cliche, something she’d tease him for, but he was right and they both knew it.

She’d put him through hell by not telling him the truth, and they both knew that, too.

Gwen closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and forcing herself to relax. Things were — they seemed okay, didn’t they? Almost normal, but better, because all her ugliness was out there for him to see and he knew about it and he didn’t seem to mind. And wasn’t that something she’d never thought she’d ever actually find? “I don’t get it,” she admitted, her voice sounding small and stupid. “I keep feeling like . . . like I tricked you somehow. Like I didn’t explain well enough why you shouldn’t want me, because if you really got it you wouldn’t be here. Not because I think you’re stupid,” she added quickly, desperately, “because I don’t, really! But — but even smart people can be . . . I don’t know, manipulated?”

The confusion in her voice made her pause, sit back. Manipulated? That couldn’t be right, could it? She wasn’t trying to manipulate anyone, and she was pretty sure you couldn’t manipulate someone by accident.

Or maybe you could; she hadn’t always paid a ton of attention to her psych classes in college.

“I’m sorry,” she managed after a few deeply uncomfortable moments of silence. “I’m trying, I promise, but I understand if . . . you know. Whatever.” (She still hated saying it, especially now that it seemed like it might not happen. Breaking up with David was hard enough without having to say it.)

He put his arm around her shoulders, tugging her into his side and kissing her temple. “Thank you for telling me, Gwen.”

“You’re not mad?”

She felt him shake his head as she rested hers on his shoulder, scooting down to make up for their (lack of) height difference. “I wasn’t really mad when I came back this morning,” he said, “even before I saw everything you’d made. I had some time to cool down, and I . . . started thinking, I guess.”

Gwen wanted to look up at him, but she wanted to soak in his warmth more so she nuzzled into the curve of his neck, inhaling the smells of floral detergent and piney-woodsy cologne left over from the day before. “About what?” she asked, like there could possibly be more than one answer. Like maybe he’d been pondering the sociopolitics of Malaysia or something.

He let out a little huff of laughter, and she knew without looking that he’d glanced up at the ceiling in a slow blink (that he insisted was less rude than rolling his eyes outright, even though it was just as obvious). “You. Everything that’s happened this summer — and before it.” His shoulder shifted slightly under her cheek, a shrug aborted halfway through so she’d be comfortable. “Things started making more sense after everything we talked about tonight. Like the day we . . . well, when you told me about that gentleman you . . . almost took home.”

“He wasn’t a gentleman, he was a douchebag,” she interrupted, immediately feeling like an asshole. But David chuckled and squeezed her closer, like he enjoyed her company even when she was being annoying (which he did; somehow he actually did) and she let herself relax against his side, believe that maybe things were going to be okay after all.

“I’ve thought about the stuff you said a lot since that day. Mostly the parts that made me feel the worst.”

She flinched. “I’m so sorry —” she began, but he cut her off with a kiss to her forehead.

“I have trouble with . . . rejection,” he continued, sounding embarrassed. Like that minor character flaw even came close to the millions of ways she was fucked up. “I — I guess you could call it ‘abandonment issues’? But at first, and for a while, all I could hear were the ways you didn’t . . . seem to want me around anymore.”

“But I did —”

“I know.” Another soft kiss, and she wasn’t sure if it was to reassure her or himself. “I know that now. And I think, knowing that . . . it made what you said sound different.

“You were drunk — I know, you downplayed it, and it wouldn’t have excused . . . but your judgment was still impaired. And you didn’t kiss him. Thinking back, it didn’t even sound like you really wanted to. Did you?” She shook her head, not willing to look up at him because no matter how gently he tried to frame this she still felt like it was her fault. “And I just couldn’t stop thinking, how if this had happened a few years ago you would’ve told that story so much differently. If we were still just friends, maybe. You would’ve stormed into the cabin raging about how some jerk had ‘put his mitts all over you’ —”

Gwen couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing, pushing away from him and resting her head in her hands. “That can’t be how you think I talk!”

“It was an edited version,” he admitted, flushing. His smile was wide enough to illuminate the room, catching and refracting the dreary dawn light. “Please come back?”

She snuggled into his outstretched arms, her heart panging at the plaintive note in his voice. She wrapped herself around him, legs entangled with his and arms squeezing his waist; she’d missed him just as much. “Your impression of me is really bad,” she said with an uncontrollable giggle that made her feel like she was fourteen.

“I’ll work on it.” For a moment he just held her, soaking in the relief of being together and being okay. (At least, that's what she was doing.) “Why did it bother you so much?” he asked after a minute or so. “It doesn’t . . . well, it just doesn’t sound like you did anything wrong.”

“I guess — yeah, maybe not, technically anyway. But you’d just visited and saw how terrible my life is, and I was having an even harder time being a less-shitty version of myself . . .” He made a soft noise, almost pained, and pulled her closer. “So when this asshole showed up and was, like, exactly the type of guy I usually go for, it felt like . . . I don’t know. Like the universe was telling me we didn’t belong together. That sounds stupid. Never mind.” She pressed her face against his chest with an embarrassed groan. “Pretend I said something that doesn’t make me sound like I write horoscopes for a living.”

“I like horoscopes!” he replied, because of course he did. After a moment he added, “Thank you for telling me. It . . . helps confirm some things I was thinking earlier, when I left. Because what you said, and what you’ve been saying for a long time . . . I’ve been hearing it the way that’d hurt me the most, but I think you meant it to make me hate you.” He paused for a second, then added, “Do you think I’m right?”

Gwen shrugged, feeling more than a little like one of his campers receiving an aggressively pacifist talking-to. “Yeah. I don’t . . . like myself all that much.”

“I’ve noticed.” And David pressed another kiss to the top of her head, like he was rewarding her for being honest. Or like he just couldn’t help himself. “You haven’t treated me very well lately, Gwen. And I was — am very unhappy about that. But I don’t think it holds a candle to how you treat yourself.”

She wriggled away enough to sit up and look at him, frowning. “So you’re, what? Willing to come back to a shitty relationship because you feel sorrier for me than for you?” she demanded, even though it would’ve been smarter to just not say anything and enjoy his pity while she still had it.

But again, she said she’d be honest. And the true Gwen was kind of a bitch.

His smile turned sad, and he carefully tucked a flyaway hair behind her ear. “See, that’s what I mean. You never give yourself the benefit of the doubt.” When she frowned, not understanding, he took her hand and began playing with it, wiggling her fingers and twining them with his. “I understand better, now. How you’re feeling and what you’re thinking. And I’m not going to let you treat me like I’m a kid, or — or stupid, or whatever. I know you don’t really think that,” he added as she opened her mouth to argue. “There’s a whole cabin’s worth of proof in the living room that you don’t really think that. That’s why I wanna try again. Miscommunications, misunderstandings . . . those are fixable. And now that I know what’s been going through your head, I don’t think you’ve done anything I can’t forgive.”

Her eyes filled with tears — again, and she was going to die of dehydration if she didn’t get ahold of herself — but this time she couldn’t resent them too much, not when it felt like she was brimming over with hope that was eager to burst free. “What’re you saying, David?”

He shifted back, turning so he was sitting cross-legged facing her, and took both her hands in his. “I keep . . . trying to find a way to say it,” he admitted, looking down at their twined fingers and flushing pink, “because ‘do you want to be my girlfriend again?’ is maybe too middle-school, but ‘dating’ sounds too casual, and —”

Gwen pulled out of his grasp and closed the distance between them, straddling his lap and taking his chin in one hand. His face lifted toward her before his eyes did, darting from her chest to over her shoulder before finally meeting her gaze. She wound her free arm around his shoulders, sliding her fingers into the short, soft hair at the nape of his neck. With the hand cupping his jaw she gently swiped her thumb across his lower lip, slightly chapped but still warm and softer than it looked, each breath skating across her skin feather-light and making her skin prickle. “Yeah,” she said, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead to his, holding back a laugh — or maybe a sob, she wasn’t quite sure; the emotions roiling inside her were too much to separate between happy and sad. “Whatever you’re asking, yes, I want it.”

She felt his smile spread under her thumb before he brushed her hand away, tilting his head so he could kiss her. “Good,” he murmured with a breathless chuckle, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. “I mean, I was pretty sure you’d say that, but still — that’s a relief.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You idiot.” Her blood turned to ice, and she pulled away from him, stricken. For fuck’s sake, couldn’t she be anything but herself for five minutes? “I didn’t mean — !”

David smiled, far more fondly than she deserved. “I know, Gwen.”

Groaning, she buried her face in his shoulder. “I’m trying, really I am.”

“Don’t.” He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back until she was upright, looking down at him again. “Please don’t try so hard to be what you think I want. Just be you.”

“Right.” She forced her shoulders to relax, tilting her head back and rolling her neck until it cracked. “I’m . . . gonna have a hard time with that. ‘Just me’ is kind of the worst.”

“I know you think that,” he said, pressing his half-open mouth to the hollow of her collarbone and making her shiver. “And I’ll keep reminding you until you don’t think it anymore.”

She managed a weak chuckle, leaning into his lips as he moved up her neck. “Good luck with that.”

His answering laugh rolled over her skin, warm and teasing. “Haven’t you heard, Gwen? I like projects.”

Jesus. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she tugged him upright, taking a moment to appreciate his gasp that wasn’t just surprise. “I love you,” she said, loosening her grip and kissing his forehead, petting away the furrows her fingers left in his fluffy red hair.

His expression softened. “I love —” he began, and Gwen tightened her hold on his hair and pulled back, just so she could watch his eyes flutter shut and his breath catch, “— y-you too.”

Dragging her palm down the side of his neck, she settled her thumb on his throat, feeling his pulse flutter rapidly, and bent to kiss him again. She hadn’t necessarily meant to turn it into anything, just wanted to feel his lips against hers, but her fingers tightened involuntarily in his hair and he moaned, and it was a lit match dropped down her throat to a stomach full of gasoline, a whoosh of heat blazing to life in the pit of her belly. “David,” she breathed, not so much because she had anything to say but because she needed to say it, to roll the sound of his name around in her mouth, let it melt like chocolate on her tongue and infuse her whole body with sweetness.

“Gwen,” he said, and she thought he was doing the same thing, saying her name just because he could, but then his hands were on her shoulders and he was pushing her away, gentle but firm. “Gwen, wait, we should — talk about this —”

“Oh, shit, yeah. Okay. Sorry.” She sat back, her face warming. But as she settled her weight more firmly in his lap he jolted; and if she’d thought she was embarrassed it was nothing to the way his already-flushed cheeks flamed pink, spreading in blotches up to his hairline and the tips of his ears, down to disappear underneath his bandana. He stammered out an apology, avoiding her eyes even as his cock twitched, like bashfulness could disguise how hard he was against her. She quickly rose back up — the last thing she wanted was to make him feel ashamed, or pressured; everything between them was as tremulous and new as the first time — but realized almost instantly when David squeaked that this just shoved her chest in his face.

She hovered there for an awkward second, the two of them staring at each other in mortified horror. Then his whole expression wavered, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth before quickly flattening into a thin line, and the break in his composure took hers out too. She snorted, and they both burst out laughing. “I’ll just sit over here,” she said through giggles, rolling off his lap and settling on the other side of the bed with her feet curled under her so they were no longer touching. He made a small sad sound like a squeeze toy deflating, and Gwen rolled her eyes and stretched out one leg until her foot brushed his knee. “Here, hold my foot if you’re that lonely. It’s practically holding hands.”

His eyes widened, hands closing around her ankle and setting it on his thigh with something like reverence. “Thank you,” he murmured, gently tracing the outline of her foot with his fingertips. “That was very sweet, you know.”

God, she was blushing, wasn’t she? She had to be. “Yeah,” she agreed, trying to ignore the ticklish feeling as he kept playing with her foot like it was a toy doll. “Felt weird, too. I kinda wanted to insult you or something, just to balance it out.”

He smiled, wiggling her big toe like he was playing that little piggies game she used to do with her nieces when they were babies. “That’s my Gwen.” And he sounded pleased, almost proud, like she’d done something wonderful.

But that was David; even though sometimes he was completely oblivious, sometimes he noticed and appreciated the tiniest, most inconsequential things. That’s my David, she thought, her heart swelling like it was going to burst. “You wanted to talk about something?” she reminded him, waggling her toes to get his attention.

“Oh! Right.” He gently took her foot and set it on the bed next to him, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to his chest. “Sorry, I was getting distracted, and that was the whole point of you moving over there.” (He said it with a pout, like she’d gone to Spain instead of just out of arms’ reach.)

“I thought the whole point of me moving over here was so you could cool down, tiger,” she teased. But when he didn’t respond except to flush darker, his gaze firmly on a fraying edge of the pillowcase in his arms, something weird and hilarious clicked in her head. “Oh my god, are you into feet?”

“No!” He lifted his head to give her a tragically betrayed expression. “Not a weird amount!”

She grinned, poking his thigh with her outstretched foot. “What’s a weird amount?” she asked.

He shrugged, not quite able to maintain the kicked-puppy look when a smile kept trying to break through. “I don’t know. Watching people in heels step on fruit. I don’t like that sort of thing, I’ll have you know,” he added defensively, and for a second Gwen was sure he’d stick his tongue out at her.

“Sure, but you’re into them enough to know those videos exist.”

“I think I’d like to go back to you being nice to me,” he muttered, and she felt a stab of panic before he gently patted her ankle and met her gaze with a slight smile. Like he knew what she was thinking.

So she shoved past her nervousness and said, “But I thought you wanted me to be myself. And as myself, I can’t believe you never told me you were a foot guy!”

“I’m a you guy. And . . . you know. All of you. You’re perfect.”

“Yeah, but the feet are a thing, huh? At least a little bit.” When he didn’t answer she laughed, shaking her head. “So do you, like, want a footjob or something?”

“I really don’t.”

“How have we been dating this long and I didn’t know about this? What other freaky sex things are you hiding?”

“Nothing!” he said, hugging the pillow tighter. After a moment he looked away and added, “I didn’t want you to think I was weird.”

“David.” She leaned forward, waiting for him to look at her and see in her expression just how ridiculous that was. “You can’t get weirder than I am. You know that.” When the color in his face receded just a little bit, and his eyes flicked back toward her hopefully, she sighed and attempted to dredge up one of the strangest kinks in her vast library. “I’d totally fuck Drogon.”

He frowned thoughtfully. “From Game of Thrones? So would I- Iiiiiii mean, s-so would most people.”

“No, not Khal Drogo, Drogon. The dragon. Not like a humanized version, either — just full lizard.”

“Oh.” He smiled a little, almost a smirk, and Gwen felt distinctly, lovingly judged. “That does make me feel better. Thank you.”

“No problem. And tomorrow I’m gonna go into town and get a pedicure, just for you.” She wiggled her toes at him, grinning. “I’m thinking something slutty, like hot pink.”

“Gwen!” He shoved her foot away, laughing. “I was trying to have a serious conversation before you started talking about — about slutty toes and dragons!”

She cracked up too, falling over onto her side and nearly toppling off the bed. “Slutty toes,” she repeated breathlessly, and it took a few minutes to recover; every time they tried to make eye contact they burst out laughing again.

“Okay, okay.” Gwen finally sat back up, trying in vain to smooth her hair out of its mass of tangled bedhead. “I’m sorry, you were trying to say something serious. What’s up?”

“Right.” He took a deep breath, fingers knotting in her blankets until his knuckles were white. “It’s just . . . it was starting to seem like we were going to — um, you know. Be intimate.”

She resisted the urge to tease him for his word choice. “I was open to it, yeah.”

“M-me too! That’s why . . . well. Okay.” He took a deep breath, dragging his hands down his face, and Gwen noticed for the first time how tired he looked.

“Hey, we don’t have to do anything,” she said, shifting closer so she could put her hand on his shoulder. “You know that, right?”

He nodded, patting her hand before brushing it away so she didn’t feel rejected, and once again she felt a rush of love so intense it almost brought tears to her eyes. He could be so simply, effortlessly kind, without even thinking about it. “I do. At least, I think I do. I- I mean, I know I do, but it’s hard to . . .” He waved his hand around his head like his thoughts were scattering birds.

“The night before we . . . well. Ended things.” He flinched at his own words, and she felt the same pain flicker over the surface of her heart.

It’s okay, she reminded herself, wishing she could sweep him up in her arms and block out all the bad memories she’d put there. It still hurts, but we’re going to be okay.

Like he’d been thinking the same thing, David stretched out his hand to find hers, squeezing her fingers. “I said I didn’t want to,” he continued in a rush, “you know. Be together like that. And you . . . seemed to get mad — at me. And then the next day you broke up with me.” He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath that had tears behind it, and she tightened her grip on his hand. “It’s okay,” he said, opening his eyes and giving her a slightly-watery smile. “I’m okay. But I just need to know . . .”

“God, no,” she jumped in, taking up the thread of his question as it trailed off into nothingness. “David, no, it had nothing to do with — I freaked out, but I was already — I mean, I was gonna fall apart over anything, it didn’t have to be that. You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.” She couldn’t stand it anymore, so she pulled his hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles because she wanted to respect his need for space but she had to touch him or she was going to die.

He swallowed, watching their joined hands for a moment before looking away. “You — that really hurt me, Gwen. I just needed to tell you that.”

All the anger he’d thrown at her in the past several hours, all the pain and frustration, and it was those small, matter-of-fact words that slashed her heart in two. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

She hated apologizing — it always felt weak, or dangerous, or something. Like it was an opening for someone to hate her even more, like she was handing them a weapon to hold over her head for the rest of her life. (It was why she hated receiving them, too; she could be spiteful and vindictive as anyone, but it was uncomfortable watching someone flay themselves in front of her.)

But with David . . . it didn’t feel like she was giving him leverage when she told him she was sorry. She wasn’t scared he’d hold onto it and throw it back in her face someday. She wasn’t resentful of him, and she wasn’t worried about how he’d react.

She wasn’t anything but truly, genuinely sorry.

And he didn’t brush it aside, act like she had no reason to apologize the way she’d half-expected. Either she hadn’t been giving him enough credit, or he’d grown up while she wasn’t paying attention. Maybe a little of both. But whatever the cause, he just stroked her cheek with the backs of his knuckles and nodded, a ghost of his smile returning for a second. “It’s okay,” he said, looking at her like she was — god, like he loved her. “Hearing it helps.”

She wasn’t sure if he needed more than that, but she wasn’t going to let a single doubt linger in his mind. “Seriously, David, you can — I won’t ever be mad at you for saying no, ever. For any reason, or no reason or . . . whatever. It’s okay. It’ll always be okay.”

“I — um, I had a reason.” He spoke fast, his eyes wide like he’d surprised himself. Still, he pressed his lips together into a flat line and met her gaze, clearly nervous but just as clearly not intending to end the conversation until they’d said everything they needed to. He was so brave. “I should’ve mentioned it at the time, but I guess I was scared.”

Gwen snorted, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, I can relate to that.”

He rewarded her with a small, soft smile before continuing, “The thing is, everything had just been so gosh-darned strange between us, and it felt like you were avoiding me all the time — except when we were together like that.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. “It sounds silly, but I couldn’t help but worry that maybe that was . . . all you were interested in me for.”

Her stomach sank. “And then when you said no, and I freaked . . .”

David nodded, his throat moving as he swallowed again. “Yeah,” he murmured, looking away. “It — it sure felt like you only wanted me for that one thing, all of a sudden, and when you couldn’t get it . . .”

“I dumped you,” she finished, covering her mouth in horror. “Oh, David.”  

“I was a little nervous to tell you to stop.” He pulled his hands from hers so he could fidget, twisting his long fingers together. “Earlier — just now. A minute ago. So we could talk. I — I know it wasn’t fair, but I couldn’t stop thinking you might get mad at me again.”

“I wasn’t mad,” she replied, her hands shaking with how badly she wanted to hug him. (And god, what a change from their normal paradigm, that she was the one who had to hold herself back from a hug.) “I mean, I was, but never at you. I was mad at me, for screwing things up. I — you’re right, I was avoiding you, or avoiding talking to you, I guess. Because I didn’t know how to talk to you, how to act so you wouldn’t find out that I’m . . .” Her throat closed, thick and gummy with tears, and she took a deep breath and swallowed them back. “Rotten,” she finished, which was a stupid, melodramatic word but it felt right; it described the way she still felt despite everything, squishy and overripe and putrid. “It was getting harder to hide, once we were together all the time. And when we were fucking —” She couldn’t tiptoe around the words like David, not when she could just say it and watch him flush red. Even her rotted heart skipped a beat whenever he smiled. “It felt like I didn’t have to try so hard. I couldn’t be amazing, but I could make you feel amazing. And if I could do that . . .” She sniffed, looking away and wiping her face clean. “I thought I was letting you know how much you mean to me,” she admitted, the realization coming right on the heels of the words. “I mean, obviously I wasn’t — add that to the list of things I suck at — but when you didn’t want to have sex, it . . . I took it really hard.”

Her face was turned away, so his hand on her shoulder made her jump. “It felt like I was rejecting the only thing you had to offer,” he guessed, his voice soft and sad but no longer on the verge of tears. “Gwen . . .”

“It’s fine,” she said, shaking her head like she could rattle her self-pity out of her head. “That was just me being stupid, I know that. More importantly — seriously.” She looked back at him, at his beautiful open face, at the way he was watching her like she could possibly have something to say that mattered. “It’s never been about sex with you, David,” she said. Felt the encroaching tears yet again and decided to ignore them. If they came, they came; they weren’t going to stop her, because it was the most essential thing in the world that he knew, that he believed her. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, the sex is really good —” He chuckled, blushing exactly the way she’d hoped he would, and it gave her a little glowing spark of strength, “— but it doesn’t even come close to being what I love most about you. None of that stuff —” She gestured toward her bedroom door, and the mess of crafts cluttering their common room. “— comes close. It’s — everything, a billion other things I don’t know how to explain or describe or show you but I love you, so much, more than I’ve ever loved anyone and it scares me, and — I’m rambling. Sorry.” She shrank back, feeling like an idiot again. “I just wanted you to know that. It . . . we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, ever, and I’ll never be mad at you, or disappointed, or anything like that.”

“Thank you, Gwen.” He was quiet for a minute, and she felt the tension ratcheting up in her shoulders with each long, spiraling second. Part of her wanted to snap at him to just say something, finish the damn thought before he gave her a heart attack, but that was her anxiety and regret talking, and she never wanted to take her own issues out on him ever again.

(She probably would, considering what a mess she was. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to do it on purpose.)

“You’re right, though.” David’s voice was a surprise, as was the soft laugh accompanying his words. He was sitting with his head tilted back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling like he could see through it to the fading stars and brightening sky. His gaze dropped to meet hers, and he immediately looked down and away, biting his lip to try and hide a smile. “We are pretty darn great together.”

A massive weight dropped from Gwen’s chest, rolling away like a stone. “Yeah,” she agreed. Then, to test the waters: “I taught you well.”

It worked; he turned back toward her, his shyness replaced with half-serious indignation. “I like to think some of it was natural talent!”

“Ehh,” she teased, holding her hand out flat and seesawing it back and forth in a “so-so” motion. “Pretty sure enthusiasm was doing most of the heavy lifting in the beginning there.”

He crossed his arms over his chest with a disbelieving scoff. “Well, I never!”

She pressed her lips together to keep from giggling. What a dork. “Y’know, I should say we were insanely good. But I dunno, for all I know you’ve totally lost it.” Shaking her head mournfully, she quickly glanced over to make sure he wasn’t actually offended.

His mouth dropped open, his eyes growing wide before narrowing. “I haven’t lost anything!” he snapped, and — oh, the playful irritation in his voice made her stomach twist. Not in the awful sick way she’d been tied up in knots earlier, but with a flush of heat that took her breath away.

Managing a smirk, she laid back on her elbows, a warm glow of satisfaction blooming in her chest as his gaze dropped to her stomach, to the narrow strip of skin where her camisole had ridden up. She waited until he dragged his eyes back up to her, dark and intense like the ocean in a storm, then grinned at him.

“Wanna bet?”

His face lit up — or, not quite. Because his smile was bright and warm as sunshine, but underneath the tenderness was a sharp competitive edge that he almost never turned on her. It was almost intimidating, but the shiver it sent down her spine had nothing to do with fear. “Always,” he replied.

Before she could respond he’d pushed himself to his knees and grabbed her just above her calves; a quick tug forward and Gwen was pulled flat on her back, dragged down the bed until her body was sprawled out beneath him. He let go of her, bracing his hands on either side of her head and bending down to capture her mouth in a kiss.

She curled one hand around the back of his neck and pulled him closer, bending her knees so he was caged between her legs and arching her back to bring as much of her skin against his as possible. He was warm, almost uncomfortably so — her furnace, her own personal sun, and she wanted nothing more than to melt into him. When he abandoned her mouth in favor of trailing long, suckling kisses down her neck she pressed her lips together, biting hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from making a sound.

“You could’ve —” A gasp, too sudden for her to swallow it back, and she felt David’s satisfied smirk against the base of her throat as he bit down again. “— given me a concussion, you asshole.”

He hummed in assent, his lips skating up to her ear and his tongue lapping at the sensitive spot just behind it. “I know,” he said mildly, “but I didn’t.”

He gently took her earlobe between his teeth, and she couldn’t help the strangled noise that was somewhere between a moan and a sigh. Grabbing his hair again, she dragged his mouth back for another kiss, enjoying the shudder that rolled down his spine and made him tremble everywhere his body was touching hers. For a few dizzying minutes she held him there, barely allowing either of them to draw breath. His mouth was blood-hot, warmer than even her fevered skin, and she didn’t know exactly where she wanted it because she wanted it everywhere — against hers, his tongue lapping at the roof of her mouth and making her shiver; around one of her nipples, his teeth catching on the pebbled skin; sucking bruises into her inner thighs, closing around her clit, dipping inside her cunt, her asshole, along the sensitive strip of skin between the two. She wanted him to kiss her places that weren’t even close to erotic but she knew would burst into flame if he so much as brushed his lips over them: the bone jutting out from her ankle, the ticklish spot inside her elbow, wherever the fuck he wanted to press the gorgeous wet heat of his mouth she wanted to let him, because from the very first kiss he’d been good, better than he’d had any right to be but time and experience had worked their magic and now his mouth could ruin her; without even trying he could reduce her to twitching, shuddering goo.

“Take this off,” she gasped, not sure if she meant her clothes or his because she was wriggling out from under him and trying to remove both at the same time, her fingers clumsy and shaking with how badly she needed to touch him without any fabric in the way. She struggled to her knees, practically yanking her camisole off and throwing it across the room before hooking her fingers in his belt loops and dragging him close enough for her to undo the buckle. “Come on —”

“So I won?” He laughed breathlessly, untucking his shirt and pulling it over his head in one fluid motion, smugness making him unfairly graceful like he was trying to show off.

“Sure, whatever,” she muttered, because who cared about some bet when he was kneeling half-naked in front of her? They’d had silly, jokey sex but that was not this, not when he was so beautiful she was having trouble looking directly at him, hair mussed and lips damp and swollen and pink blooming in blotches under the light constellations of freckles across his skin. He looked debauched, flushed and obscene even with half his clothes still on, and there wasn’t room in her brain for humor when all she could feel was clawing shaking need. She dropped onto all fours, leaning down to trace the hard outline of his cock with her tongue, and even through his shorts he was burning warm. He sucked in a sharp breath, his pulse spiking under her mouth, and Gwen couldn’t resist closing her lips around the shape of his erection, breathing in the salty-ammonia smell of precome and feeling her mouth water. “David,” she began, but there was no end to that sentence so she lifted her head slightly, bit the delicate ridge of his hipbone where it peeked out from the waist of his shorts, caught him as his hips stuttered forward. She kept him steady, one hand splayed across his lower back, as she rose to her knees without lifting her mouth from his skin: over the barely-there softness of his stomach (no werewolf six-pack here, despite his lean strength), tongue swirling among the faint red hair below his belly button, following the curve of his ribs, just barely brushing one nipple — he made a small, strung-out noise in the back of his throat, almost despairing as she moved on up to his neck — until she found his lips again, dragging him into a bruising, breathless kiss.

When she pulled away David’s smile was gone, drawn out of his mouth and leaving him panting. “Okay,” he murmured, soft and almost reverent, but before she could figure out what specifically was okay he hauled her forward like she weighed nothing, capturing her lips for a second before trailing down her throat, pausing at a sensitive place above her pulse point and biting down hard, sucking the skin between his teeth.

Pain bloomed under his mouth, rippling out into shockwaves of cold-hot pleasure, and when he bit her again she couldn’t hold back a moan. “You’re gonna — leave a mark,” she gasped, gently shoving his head away and running her fingers over the damp skin. It was already tender, and judging by David’s expression, contrite and amused and darkly heated, it was going to be a hell of a hickey. “I can’t hide this!”

“I’m sorry!” he tried, but it wasn’t close to convincing when he couldn’t hide his grin. His eyes drifted down to the mark again and he licked his lips, expression growing dazed for a moment before he snapped back up to look at her face. “I can make you a bandana, if you want. Just until it fades.”

“Fucker.” Gwen laughed, not so much because it was funny but because it was him, and she loved him more than she could possibly stand. Tired of the overheated, confining clothes she was still wearing, she shimmied out of them, tossing her pajama shorts and half-soaked underwear without bothering to see where they landed. “Come here,” she said, pressing her legs together and shivering at the wet slide of her inner thighs and labia, a thousand nerve endings sparking to glistening life. “You can make it up to me.”

She swore she could almost see his mouth water, his gaze dropping between her legs as he took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “Yes, ma’am,” he said — and they’d never tried that before, but judging by the way his cock twitched and his eyes jumped sheepishly to hers, it was something he’d thought about a lot. Filing the information away for later, she held out her hand and pulled him closer when he took it, resting her forehead against his. It took just the slightest shift in the angle of her head to kiss him again so she did it without thinking, her hand sliding between their bodies to curl loosely around the outline of his erection.

He gasped shakily against her mouth, his hands fluttering up and down her waist like he couldn’t decide where to touch her. One of them dropped to her ass, a light, almost hesitant touch, and she rewarded it with a soft groan; he made a weak noise in the back of his throat and pulled her closer, kneading her ass before slipping lower, between her legs. The heel of his hand brushed teasingly against her clit as he pressed two fingers into her, and she mimicked his pace, gliding her palm down the length of his clothed cock and relishing the way his fingers twitched against her inner walls.

He fingered her like that, slow and steady, for — she didn’t know how long. Lost track of the strokes that sent warmly buzzing tendrils up her spine, lost count of the breaths gasped raggedly between their lips, of the kisses that melted into one another until she wasn’t entirely sure where she was, she was hyper aware of the heartbeat pounding in her clit and every too-gentle drag of his hand but numb to literally everything else that wasn’t right here, wasn’t David —

“Fuck,” she breathed, pressing her forehead against his shoulder with a shuddering sigh. She turned her head and lapped at his throat, sucking his skin into her mouth and biting down hard enough to make his fingers jolt inside her, pressing against her g-spot for one delicious moment. “God, I -- please, David, just make me come, please --”

Another shiver, another twitch of his fingers that took her breath away. “Okay,” he said, his voice strangled and hoarse. He pulled out of her and sat back on his heels. “Lay down, all right?”

Yes, yes, whatever he was thinking was 100% all right with her. She almost kneed him as she scrambled into position, but her embarrassed giggle evaporated as he lowered himself onto his elbows, scooching her up the bed like she weighed nothing and settling between her legs. Alarm cut through her arousal, her mind immediately trying to calculate the last time she’d showered, let alone shaved --

His eyes flicked up to hers, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I know,” he replied before she’d even opened her mouth. “I promise, I really want to.”

Oh, god. She covered her face to muffle a squeak, flopping onto her back and looking up at the ceiling. “I’m that predictable, huh?”

David hummed thoughtfully, the sound vibrating up the inside of her thigh. “Only with some things. Other times you surprise me quite a bit.”

“Yeah?” He kissed the top of her mound, his tongue dipping into the V formed by her lips and just brushing her clit — a teasing touch, his mouth moving away even as she lifted her hips instinctively. “I’m surprising?”

“You are,” he said, the camp-counselor cheer in his voice making what he was doing feel even more obscene. He traced the line of her cunt with his mouth before gently fingering her open. “The first time you did this, for example. That surprised me quite a bit!”

“This?” She knew exactly what he meant — her stomach still dipped and swooped at the memory of kneeling on the floor of his shower, the heady rush of confidence and vulnerability she’d felt looking up at him with his cock at her lips — but she tilted her head back with a sigh and breathed, “Pretty sure I’ve never eaten you out before. Not that I wouldn’t be into that, just saying.”

He gasped and spluttered, pulling back to wipe his mouth and staring at her with wide, shocked eyes, then coughed, tapping his chest with his other hand. “Excuse —?!”

When he lowered his head to cough again and take an unsteady breath, Gwen sat up on her elbows, not sure if she should be amused, worried, or mortified. “Oh my god, please tell me you did not just choke on cunt juice!”

David gave her a disgusted look, shaking his head and clearing his throat. “There had to be another way to word that,” he said, as primly as he could while still struggling to catch his breath. “But — um, you didn’t…w-was a joke, or…?”

“I meant it,” she admitted, “but I get it if you don’t want to, don’t feel pressured either way —”

“No — I want to.” He looked startled by his own words, and immediately dropped his gaze, smoothing his palms down her thighs like he could disguise how his fingers trembled. “Sometime. If — if you do.”

Gwen let the awkward silence linger for another moment, not quite sure how to move forward. “Good. That’s…something to put on the to-do list.”

“Y-yes. Okay.” He did meet her eyes then, brightening. “See, you did it again!”

She frowned. “Did what?”

“Surprised me.” He leaned over her body to tug her into a slow, sweet kiss. When she pulled back to breathe he cupped the back of her neck, holding her close and brushing his nose against hers. “You’re an adventure every day, Gwen,” he murmured.

“Yeah, I’m a real goddamn roller coaster,” she grumbled, shifting her hips upward in a blind search for his touch. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d fucking ride me already.”

David laughed softly against her mouth before turning his attention to her jaw, throat, collarbone — a damp, shivery brush of his tongue against her skin moving down her body. “Well goodness, Gwen, now I’m confused.” She both hated and loved the smug, teasing tone he got whenever her composure cracked. “I could make love to you,” he continued, nipping the skin just below her bellybutton and making her jump, “but I thought you wanted me to do this first.”

He closed his lips around her clit and sucked gently, catching her with an arm behind her back as she arched toward the maddening wet heat of his mouth. Lowering her hips back to the bed with infuriating tenderness, he paused, resting his cheek on her inner thigh and looking up the length of her body. When she met his eyes he smiled, pausing to press a chaste kiss to her leg before returning her gaze.

“What do you want, Gwen?” And he asked it untauntingly. Seriously. Like he wanted nothing more than for her to tell him what to do, and like he’d do it without question.

His sincerity was going to be the death of her, she decided with a groan, burying her hands in her hair and shielding her face from his view with her arms. “Fuck. I don’t know. Everything.”

When it came to David, she always wanted everything.

“That’s a real swell coincidence, then!” He traced the seam where her hip and leg met, then dipped down, dragging his fingertips through the wetness smearing her thighs before swiping them up to circle her clitoris. “Because ‘everything’ is exactly what I’d like to give you.”

She barely had time to absorb the statement before his mouth was on her again, sliding the hood back with his lips before swirling his tongue beneath it and around the exposed clit. It was almost too much, too sensitive, bordering on painful and if he stopped she might actually die; she knotted her fingers in the flimsy sheets to keep from pushing his face harder against her, vaguely aware that she was mumbling nonsensical pleas, an incoherent litany of “oh god yes please fuck don’t stop” —

He didn’t. Without lifting his mouth he braced one hand under her knee and pushed it toward her chest, bending her leg and using two fingers of his other hand to enter her. It took him a second but when he found her g-spot he pressed up hard, stroking with the same rapid pace of his flicking tongue. It was more pressure than she was used to, strangely achy but pleasurably so, and it was impossible not to writhe under his touch as the need to come coiled tighter, dragged her higher, kept her suspended on the brink for a frustrating, dizzying, electrifying moment that stretched like a rubber band…

Then it snapped — a dam breaking, a wave cresting and finally letting gravity take over — and she curled forward with a sob of relief, pleasure rippling through her limbs and turning her bones to liquid, trembling through the aftershocks.

The shift from overwhelmingly perfect to just plain overwhelming was a split second. “Nngh, stop, stop —” She pawed weakly at his head, just barely smacking the edge of his fringe with her fingertips, but he lifted his mouth from her with a look of concern. “You’re fine,” she added quickly, struggling to catch her breath and shivering from the buzz of overstimulation, “s’just too much.”

David nodded, relieved, and sat back, wiping his face with the back of his arm. “Wow,” he murmured, eyes wide and awed. “Wowzers. Gwen, have you ever done that before?”

She sat up, frowning. “Come like a train? Like every time we — whoa.”

The sheets between her legs were wet. Not damp, wet like she’d spilled a glass of water (and cooling rapidly, she realized with a grimace, shifting to avoid the blotchy patch). Presumably the same wetness dripping down David’s chin.

“Oh my god.” She groaned, hiding her face in her hands like if she couldn’t see it, it would disappear. Or feel it slicking her inner thighs. “And uh, not really,” she finally muttered, a belated answer to his question. “Once or twice, but you’ve really gotta work over the g-spot to make it happ --” She glanced up just in time to catch his expression, a flash of recognition mixed with pleased sheepishness. “Which you were.” David quickly looked away, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and flushing pink. “On purpose?”

“I -- I’d read about it, that’s all!” he said, meeting her gaze defensively. “I knew it was, well . . . a thing. That some wom- people can do. And I was -- I’ve seen -- I was curious!” Gwen tried to stifle a laugh and failed, turning it into a choking snort, and he blushed even darker. “I know I should’ve just asked, but I couldn’t figure out how to say . . .”

She waited for him to finish the sentence, but when it became clear he had no intention of doing so, she injected as much demented cheer into her voice as possible and chirped, “‘Golly gee, Gwen, could I try making you squirt sometime?’”

Her imitation of his voice was passable -- she’d spent enough years making fun of him to get good at it -- and though he turned his head away she was positive he rolled his eyes at her. “I don’t know if that counts as bad language or not.”

“Oh no. It’d be so shocking if I said one of the no-no words.”

He chuckled, trying and failing to disguise it as a sigh, and climbed out of bed, tugging the rest of his clothes off. (As he picked up his shirt and wiped his face clean, Gwen quickly bent forward and sniffed the damp spot on the mattress. A little like saline, mostly like nothing. Good to know.)

“So how often do you trawl the internet for sex tips?” she asked, grinning. “Or -- god, tell me you’re not checking out books from the library.”

“Of course not!” He looked horrified at the thought. “And . . . sometimes. More often, after we started dating. I . . .” He paused, looking like he was reconsidering the rest of that sentence, and joined her on the bed to lean back against the headboard. “The time you visited, when I -- used my mouth on you for the first time.” (And what was it about his delicate tiptoeing that made it sound so much more filthy than if he’d said it outright?) “I thought -- or, well, I hoped . . . anyway, I did a little reading. Online, obviously. Just in case.”

So that was how he’d been so goddamn good right off the fucking bat. Always prepared, her boy scout. “Well, I appreciate it,” she said, and sat up, throwing one leg over his lap and draping her arms around his shoulders. “Can I please fuck you now, Mr. Greenwood?”

He sucked in an unsteady breath, his cock twitching up against her; the tip of his head slipped between her outer folds, making them both gasp. “C-condom,” he breathed, his voice raspy and uneven, and she scrambled off his lap before she could give in to the voice in the back of her head insisting they didn’t need to stop and get anything, he was right there , if she’d angled her hips right he could’ve been inside her already --

Her fingers were shaking as she retrieved the foil packet and brought it over, letting him take it with relief. (There was no way she wouldn’t have ripped it, with the way her whole body was trembling like the room had dropped ten degrees.) She watched him roll the latex down his cock, unable to tear her eyes away from how beautifully flushed it was, precome beading at the tip and slicking the inside of the condom.

God, she needed him inside her. Immediately.

David caught her with a breathless laugh as she vaulted back up onto the bed, curling his fingers around her hips and holding her steady. “Careful,” he murmured, and she rolled her eyes, fumbling blindly between her legs to line him up. “Have I- hhha --” He cut off, squeezing his eyes shut with a sigh as the head of his cock pressed into her, “t- told you how beautiful you are?”

Gwen frowned. It was kind of hard to focus on the question when her body was fluttering and pulsing as it adjusted to the welcome intrusion. “A lot?” she guessed, sinking down the last few inches too fast and bottoming out with an electric shock of pain and pleasure. “Fuck.”

“No. Not like that.” He slid one arm between their bodies, parting her folds to see the way she stretched around him. “I -- think you’re so pretty,” he managed, gently tracing her inner labia with his fingertips. “I like your colors. And how we -- um, contrast.”

No one had ever told her that her cunt was pretty before. It was just the kind of stupid, romantic thing David would do. And he was right; his cock looked so pale against her, where she faded from shocking pink into a dark purplish-brown that lightened as it blended into her normal skin tone. There was something about it that reminded her of a sunset -- which was just the kind of stupid, romantic thing David made her think.

“You’re an idiot,” she said, pressing her forehead against his and raising up a few inches, “and I love you so much.”

“I — love you too.” Suddenly he froze, his eyes widening and his grip tightening around her waist, keeping her from moving.

“David? Everything okay?” God, he wasn’t having some kind of terrible flashback, was he? Maybe they shouldn’t be doing this.

His eyes flicked up to hers, and a wide, sunny smile spread across his face like spilled honey. “This is just like the first time.”

It took her a moment to understand what he was talking about, but then it hit her: this was like the night they’d first had sex, from the position to the location to the dizzying, giddy strangeness of it.

God, he was perfect.

“Sort of.” She pressed a hard, quick kiss to his lips before grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging his head to the side so she could reach his neck; he whimpered and twitched twice, each pulse against her inner walls taking her breath away. “Except I know you way better now.” She punctuated the statement by licking a wide stripe up the side of his throat, then sucked a mark right beside his Adam’s apple, where it’d be safely hidden by his bandana. “All your weak points.”

“I—” He swallowed, tilting his head obediently as she trailed a line of open-mouthed kisses up to his ear, “d-don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She just hummed; that wasn’t worth dignifying with a real response, and the vibrations against his damp skin made him shiver. Instead she toyed with him: tracing the shell of his ear with her tongue, nipping at his earlobe with just a hint of teeth, exploring the delicate area around his ear and neck she knew so well, had staked her claim to a hundred times before.

David’s breathing quickened, roughened, and she had to tighten her grip on his hair to keep him from squirming. Her hips weren’t moving but his were, minute jolts she was positive he couldn’t control. “Gwen,” he gasped, “please, I -- hhit's too much, I can’t --”

“Could you come like this?” she asked, fighting to keep her own voice level. She could feel his pulse pounding in his cock and in his throat, under her lips; her clit throbbed in response, a metronome perfectly attuned to him. “Without me even moving? Or just . . .” She squeezed her internal muscles, clenching around him in a quick staccato pattern, and lapped her tongue against his neck in time.

“Nnno. Or -- yes?” His fingers tightened around her hips, a helpless spasm. “I don’t know. It’d . . . be torture.”

His voice was so low, wrecked, and Gwen’s stomach went into a dizzying, delicious free-fall. “Good,” she said before she could stop herself, think it through and reject it as sounding weird and freaky. David successfully pulled back from her, his eyes wide and blown out with arousal, and he looked so beautiful she couldn’t stop herself from blurting out, “I want to torture you sometime. Nothing you’re not okay with -- and not now, but . . .”

“Yes,” he breathed, and the word was barely out of his mouth before his hand curled around the back of her neck and he was dragging her mouth to his, a kiss made of teeth and desperation with words gasped out against her lips: “yes, god, whatever you want Gwen please I love you --” His other hand slid to cup the curve of her thigh, urge her up onto her knees so he could fuck her properly, pull her back down to set a rhythm that bordered on frantic.

She couldn’t help but laugh, even as she braced her palms against the headboard for better leverage to ride him faster, harder. “Told you,” she teased, biting his lower lip hard enough to drag a breathy whine from him. “Weak.”

That made him moan, drawn-out and broken, and he slipped one hand between their bodies; curling it into a loose fist, he splayed his index and middle fingers just enough for her clit to glide between them, adding an extra jolt of friction every time she moved her hips. Gwen gasped, clutching at his back with one hand as her second orgasm coiled tighter at the base of her spine.

She bit his shoulder because she could, because she had to, because he’d like it and because it was that or scream loud enough to wake the entire camp. “Fuck, god, David --”

He shuddered and buried his face in her hair, his breath hot with a stream of pleasured mumbles beginning and ending in her name --

Gwen didn’t know which of them came first. It didn’t matter, really, because they dragged each other over the edge. His cock was almost painfully hard, unyielding as iron as her muscles tightened and fluttered around it, and the sudden snap upward of his hips as he came nearly knocked her breathless.

She was going to be sore tomorrow. Or . . . later today. She turned her head and mouthed at David’s neck, relishing the sweet-salt taste of his sweat, and let him hold her up as they caught their breath.

“I love you too,” she whispered belatedly. David huffed a weak laugh into her hair, stroking her back with a touch that was light and ticklish. “But we’re sleeping in your room tonight. I don’t wanna deal with the wet spot.”

Yeah, she was going to be sore, and exhausted, and facing a hell of a cleanup both in her bedroom and outside of it.

David groaned and gently pushed her upright, sliding out from under her and taking her hand, like she was a camper who needed to be ushered back to bed. “Phone,” she bleated, weakly reaching for it as they walked past, and he paused to pick it up for her, and in that second she loved him even more, more than she’d ever thought possible.

Worth it.

[radiorenjun]

 I Don't Need It

• Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader

• Genre: Angst, Comedy, Fluff

• Na Jaemin despised the idea of soulmates, he wanted to fight against fate for choosing his soulmate for him. Even if it means his stubborn childhood best friend wouldn’t stop trying to make him accept about the similar tattoos on their wrists.

• Warnings: mental breakdowns, heartbreak, rejection, major angst, arguments, flashbacks, physical injuries, fighting, underaged drinking, panic attacks, mentions of death, slight mentions of druGS? I swear this series is getting closer to an end oml

• Wordcount : 8.4k

• Masterlist here!

• Chapters: XIV, XV

Jaemin scanned the empty science lab, his hand on the doorway as he poked his head into the room like a small bunny peeking into the bushes. His eyes lit up when he found your distressed figure sitting on your assigned table, brows furrowed and tongue sticking out slightly in concentration as you flipped through the pages of your book with one hand and writing on a piece of paper in the other.

He chuckled, realising that you had forgotten to do your homework again and had decided to finish it fifteen minutes before the bell rings. ‘Typical,’ he thought fondly, taking a small step into the lab to lean his body against the doorway, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets as he continued to gaze longingly at you.

‘I never realised how adorable she looks whenever she’s focused like this,’ Jaemin couldn’t stop the giddy smile slowly stretching across his lips as he examined your state. You were in like your own personal bubble, one that only Jaemin, at that moment, could see. You were so close to him, but not close enough for his heart to reach.

Feeling someone’s gaze on you, you stopped writing and looked up to see the familiar brown haired boy staring shamelessly at you. You didn’t know if he was shocked to see you look up at him, but if he was, he was definitely good at hiding it. “Why are you standing there and staring at me like a creep?” you asked with an exhausted sigh, straightening your back in your chair before going back to writing without another glance.

“You’re the only one in this room,” Jaemin replied shortly, his expression remaining unfazed by the fact that you had caught him staring. Though the way his heart skipped a beat told him otherwise. “That still doesn’t give you a reason to stare at me like some kind of stalker,” you mumbled back monotonously, flipping a page from your textbook and sparing a small glance at the boy standing a few feet away from you.

“It’s a free country, y/n. I’m just looking at you,” he shrugged, standing up straight to walk closer to you, stopping right in front of your desk to look down at your paper. “Well, do you mind? It’s really distracting,” you leaned your head against your palm, rubbing your temples with your fingers as you tried to concentrate on finishing what’s left of your essay paper.

He ignored your previous statement and leaned over to see that it was the essay assigned last week, his brows raising in amusement as he chuckled softly. “You always forget to do your homework,” he stated with a soft, almost inaudible tone. You took a silent breath, unconsciously gripping your pen tighter as you wrote. “Yeah, nothing much has changed, really,” you responded with a small shrug.

Jaemin stood there, silently watching you jot down the lines you highlighted in your textbook on the piece of paper in the empty lab room. The atmosphere was tense, but yet again, it was almost comforting. You two didn’t know what to say to ease the tension but you both knew that you felt comfort in each other’s presence. And that was alright for you.

But you both couldn’t help but feel a sense of familiarity at that moment. The feeling of Jaemin looking down at you curiously giving the both of you some sort of deja vu. 

  “Y/n!” Jaemin exclaimed, running up to you from across the classroom with a bright smile stretched across his face. “My mom gave me some lunch money. Accompany me to the cafeteria!” he whined, stopping right in front of your desk, plopping his hands on the wooden surface harshly, startling you in the process as you let out a loud yelp.

“Jaemin! You startled me!” you complained, hitting your best friend’s shoulder playfully. Jaemin laughed, whacking your hands away from his arm before grabbing your hand gingerly, bouncing excitedly in his stance. “Come on! I really want to get those mozzarella sticks before they run out!” he whined, attempting to pull you away from your seat but you held him back.

“No! Why do you need me to come with you,” you whined, letting him continue to tug your wrist playfully as you hold your ground. “I need moral support!” he whined, mimicking your childish tone as he continued to pull you out of your seat. “But I don’t want to go,” you replied, dragging out the vowels at the end of your sentence. 

“But why?” Jaemin stretched out the ‘y’ as he stopped pulling you, keeping your hand in his as he pouted at you, giving you his signature puppy dog eyes that almost made you give in. “Nope! Not this time! I’m not going to fall for it!” you quickly tugged your hand out of his to cover your eyes and bury them in your arms as you leaned your body against the table to hide your face from his.

“Oh come on, y/n. Please?” 

You couldn’t see him, but you knew that he had moved to stand right in front of you, fingers intertwined together and puppy dog eyes ready to bore into yours in case you raised your head up. “No! You can go by yourself!” you shook your head against your arms, laughing at how ridiculous the two of you were acting at the absurd situation.

“Please? I’ll even share my mozzarella sticks with you, pinky promise!” Jaemin pleaded with a hopeful tone.

Truthfully, ever since your teacher had decided to separate the two of you and placed Jaemin in the seat across the room. He started using recess as a way to make up for the time you spent in class giving silly looks at each other in between lectures. In conclusion, he just really wanted to spend more time with his best friend.

“No!” you huffed, burying your face deeper into your arms before hearing a small groan from your best friend. “You’re 11 Jaemin! You can go to the canteen yourself!” you told him, rolling your eyes at his childishness. “I know, but it isn’t the same if I go down the cafeteria without you,” you felt a hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently as he nagged once again.

“Come on! You’re not even doing anything in the classroom,” he whined, making you look up at him with a deep frown of your own, bottom lip jutting out as you mirrored his expression. “You don’t even know what I’m doing,” you stuck your tongue out at him, crossing your arms on the table and laying your chin on it before averting your eyes away from his. 

“Oh really? What are you doing then?” he asked in a sassy tone, crossing his arms against his chest. “I’m not telling you,” you blew a raspberry at him, giggling afterwards as he gasped dramatically, his face contorted into an offended expression. “Why not?” he frowned, giving you a deep pout as he crossed his arms against his chest.

“Because I said so!” you grinned mischievously, watching as your best friend continued to nag at you, shaking your shoulders aggressively. “Fine! I’ll tell you,” you groaned in defeat, pushing his hands away from you with a small huff. You pulled away to sit up straight in your chair, revealing that you were hiding a small pile of papers filled with your messy doodles and handwriting.

“I’m making letters for everyone!” you beamed, showing him the letters you have written so far. Jaemin picked up one of the papers, his pupils dilating when he saw that you have written letters for your family and relatives. “I want to finish them today while I still have the energy,” you explained, gesturing at the colourful markers and pens scattered on your desk.

“You didn’t write a letter for me?” Jaemin frowned jokingly, putting the paper down on your desk. You frowned, remembering that you haven’t written a letter for your best friend yet. You thought about it for a moment, scanning your desk before your eyes lit up as an idea popped into your head. Noticing the way your facial expressions change, Jaemin was about to clarify how he was joking but he quickly shut his mouth when he saw you reaching over to your pens.

You grabbed a bright yellow sticky note and began scribbling and writing with the colorful markers around you. Jaemin hovered over your figure, trying to take a look at whatever you were doing. Unfortunately for him, he couldn’t see anything you were doing with the way your body basically covered his sight of the small paper. You were too busy with decorating your sticky note to notice how Jaemin had scooted closer to you to try to take a small peak.

“And done!” you exclaimed, sitting up quickly, startling Jaemin. His breath hitched, realising that if it weren’t for his reflexes, the back of your head would’ve knocked against his chin. “What do you mean ‘done’?” he asked, furrowing his brows in confusion as you quickly peeled the sticky note off of the pack and sticking it to his forehead eagerly.

He flinched at the sudden contact, wincing slightly when he felt your palm make contact with his forehead. “There! I wrote you a letter!” you stood up, putting your hands on your hips as you looked back at him with a proud expression on your face. “What did you just make me?” he asked, pulling the sticky note off of his forehead, cringing slightly when he felt strands of his hair sticking to it.

“A letter, just like what you wanted, right?” you giggled as Jaemin examined the yellow paper. There were small random doodles of weird symbols and smiley faces all over the paper, letters written in different coloured markers in the middle of the paper. “To my Jaemin, thank you for being the best friend I never asked for but always needed! Please continue to feed me and be my friend until we grow grey, old and wrinkly.” was written in your typical messy handwriting.

“’Please continue to feed me’, I knew you were friends with me for my food!” he pointed a finger at you with a wide smile across his face. Despite the fact that he kept accusing you for being friends with him because he always shares his food with you, deep down, you both knew he loved the little letter you wrote for him in a span of three minutes. And he was more than happy to stick by your side until the end.

“Are you just going to keep standing there like a creep until the teacher comes?” Jaemin snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of Jeno’s voice nearby. He blinked, standing up straight when he realised that Jeno had taken the empty seat beside you, looking at him with a raised brow as you finally finished your homework with a click of your tongue.

“What?” Jaemin blurted out, his gaze averted from Jeno’s deadpan expression to your unfazed one as you stood up abruptly, ignoring the two boys to walk up to the teacher’s desk at the front of the class. “You’re really trying hard to get her back, huh?” Jeno asked with a soft hum, leaning his cheek against his palm with a heavy sigh. “I’m not getting her back, I never even had her in the first place,” the words felt bitter in Jaemin’s mouth. But he knew it was the truth.

“She’s really ignoring your presence, huh?” Jeno hummed, fidgeting with his phone. “I don’t blame her, really. I was kind of being inconsiderate when she kept saying no to me,” Jaemin bit his lip, feeling his heart sink to his stomach as he recalls how uncomfortable you looked whenever he tried to desperately talk to you or ask you to start over. “Everyone has their own limits. I don’t blame her for acting like this.”

“So what? You’re just going to lay around, stare at her like a creep without making a move?” Jeno asked, looking up at his best friend. Jaemin’s tired eyes never left your figure as you began talking to one of your classmates, slipping his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he let out a longing sigh. “She needs a little more space, I don’t want to fuck things up even more than I already have. I’ll just make small moves. I don’t want to force her,” he explained rather hesitantly.

“I don’t want to overwhelm her like I did back then. Especially after the party,” Jaemin licked his slightly chapped lips when his mind wandered to the kiss you two shared at the party, his heart racing at the memory. “I just want her to stop hurting because of me,” he confessed with a sigh, looking down at the floor with an almost hopeless expression. 

“Haechan really did slap some sense into you, huh?” Jeno chuckled, his expression softened when he realised how Jaemin was acting slightly more mature than he was before the party. “No shit, he almost punched me on the face,” Jaemin let out a small laugh, shaking his head profusely as he recalled the second time Donghyuck made him get his shit together.

After Renjun had left, Donghyuck walked in to scold the hell out of the younger boy. Donghyuck almost punched Jaemin across the face when he heard that y/n was in another room with her mind jumbled up, he scolded Jaemin for moving too quickly. “Get your shit together, Na Jaemin. Don’t you get it? She’s never going to stop hurting if you keep pushing yourself back in her life with no warning!” never left Jaemin’s mind.

“All you’ve done is complain and whine and drag yourself in situations that you’re both not comfortable in. What the fuck? You keep saying you want to ‘make things right’ but all you’ve done so far is make her uncomfortable. You’re pushing each other away even more, you dumbass. Stop whining and complaining about it and actually do something right for once, Na Jaemin!”

“She didn’t give up on me until I snapped. I’m not giving up on her until she snaps either,” Jaemin shrugged, glancing up at the clock to see that he should be heading to his own class right now. Jeno furrowed his brows in concern, “and if she does?” he asked quietly, taking a quick glance at you before turning back to his best friend.

Jaemin sighed, shrugging in defeat. “Then I’ll finally get a taste of my own medicine.”

“Hey, someone just placed a rock on your desk.” 

“Wait what?” you furrowed your brows, turning your head to see that one of your classmates had come up to you, pointing at your desk casually. “Someone just came in and dropped off a rock on your desk,” your classmate repeated with a small laugh, an amused expression taking over their features as you became even more confused.

“A rock?” you furrowed your brows, a feeling of deja vu overcoming you at the mere mention of it.

“A rock? Are you kidding me?” Yeeun, the girl you were talking to, spoke incredulously, crossing her arms against her chest. “What the fuck? That’s so random,” she laughed, turning to see your baffled expression. You turned to her with a speechless expression before walking over to your own desk with your friends following right behind you.

“Listen, if you don’t believe me just go ahead and see for yourself,” your classmate rolled her eyes at Yeeun, pointing at the small object on your desk right in between the messy area of your books and pens. “This looks like some weird omen, you know. Like those weird horror movie get ups,” your classmate commented with a light chuckle. 

“Wait, you were actually serious?” she exclaimed with a laugh, looking at your classmate who shrugged simply. You stared at the stone sitting innocently on your desk, taking a step closer to pick it up in one of your hands. “It appears they drew something on it,” your friend pointed out, tapping her finger on the underside of the rock 

Your eyebrows raised slightly, flipping the rock around to see that the person who gave you the rock had drawn small hearts with different colored sharpies. There was a yellow small smiley face in the middle, the little smile on the drawing was sending sparks into your heart when you realised there was no one else in the world who would even think of giving you a random rock unless it was Na Jaemin himself.

‘Copycat’, you thought to yourself with a small chuckle, feeling your heart jump at the small gift. You turned to your friend, attempting to hide how flustered you were feeling with a casual expression. “Did you see who came in and placed this here?” you asked, bouncing the rock in your hands casually as if you hadn’t already known who had given you the rock in question. 

“Unfortunately, no. I did catch a mop of brown hair running out of the classroom, though,” your classmate grinned, wiggling her eyebrows at you teasingly. “I’m assuming the tables have turned with Mister Hard-To-Get, huh?” Yeeun teased, nudging your side with her elbow, giggling along with your friend. You almost broke into a smile at the mere mention of the boy. But the empty feeling in your heart wasn’t having it.

“Look at you, being pined over by your long term crush slash childhood best friend. I would celebrate if I were you. Hell, it’s also the team captain himself! I’d be over the moon if I were you,” Yeeun gushed, looking at your classmate who nodded eagerly in agreement. “He totally likes you back now. No guaranteed, you’re out of the friendzone now, I’m so happy for you!”

You frowned, sighing as you shake your head. “I don’t think so. Plus, you know very well I’m over it,” you sighed, pulling your bag from your chair and tucking the rock in one of the open pockets. “I know, I know. But shouldn’t you be happy? You’ve been pining him since high school started and you were whipped as fuck. Now that you finally have him chasing your tail, shouldn’t you be over the moon?” your classmate asked curiously, furrowing her brows.

“You’re not wrong. I mean, come on, y/n! Maybe Jaemin actually changed his mind about the stupid ‘going against fate’ bullshit. You should definitely give him a chance! You’ve been giving him a taste of his own medicine but don’t you think you two should stop pushing and pulling each other away and finally be the power couple I always imagined you to be?” Yeeun whined, nodding along with your classmate who gave you an affirming smile.

Yeeun was always one of those students who found the whole drama between you and Jaemin entertaining. She was rooting for the two of you to be together. She believed that you two were perfect for each other and you two just needed to talk things out. Yeeun always loved seeing you being so whipped for your soulmate that she, like many others, failed to see that it was also hurting the both of you.

“This isn’t some weird k-drama, Yeeun,” you chuckled, shaking your head as you stood up straight, looking straight at your friends with a gloomy smile across your face. “Plus, I kind of need a break from simping on him. I’ve been a devoted simp for two whole years, it’s time for me to stop. God, I must have been so annoying. Honestly, if I were Jaemin, I would’ve removed my tattoo in a heartbeat,” you laughed lightly, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly as you zipped up your bag.

You noticed the smiles on your friends’ faces have faltered at your words, making you realise that you spoke a little too much. Coughing to clear up the tension, you let out a small laugh. “Sorry, what am I even saying?” you chuckled to yourself in disbelief, rubbing your face in frustration as you let out a tired sigh. “Are you okay, y/n?” Yeeun asked, genuine concern spreading over her features.

You hummed, nodding before giving her a tight-lipped smile. “I’m fine. I guess I’m just really tired, right now,” you lied, giving them a small thumbs up. “I’ll go wash up, excuse me,” you gave them a small nod, looking at the concerned expressions on their faces as you attempt to give them what seems to be a smile before walking out of the classroom.

Tired, huh?

Occasionally, Jeno would invite Jaemin out to go cycling around on Saturday mornings to get his mind off of things or to simply hang out. And today, Jaemin couldn’t be more grateful to his best friend for forcing him to go out instead of staying all cooped up in his room playing overwatch with Donghyuck all day.

“Wait, I ran out of water,” Jaemin informed, showing Jeno his empty water bottle before putting it back in his bag. “Oh,  there’s a small convenience store. You can buy something there. Did you forget to bring your wallet again?” Jeno asked, pointing at the small store a few buildings away from them. “Shut up, I don’t always forget to bring my wallet,” Jaemin chuckled, leaning his bike against the pole near them as he wiped the sweat off of his brows.

“Sure, buddy. Go get your water so we can get going. My mom’s making her special stew tonight,” Jeno shoved Jaemin playfully with a laugh, rolling his eyes at his best friend. “Okay, okay. You want anything?” Jaemin asked, waving his wallet in the air with a wide grin. Jeno shook his head, waving his hand at the younger boy. “You’re broke enough, I’m not going to make you even more poor than you already are,” he joked, earning a pout from Jaemin.

He huffed before jogging off to the convenience store, telling Jeno to watch his bike while he’s gone, missing the small thumbs up the black haired boy gave him in return. 

Jaemin pushed open the door, giving the cashier a small smile and an awkward nod before walking down the aisle to find himself a drink. Scanning his eyes through the aisle, he spotted a familiar figure at the corner of his eyes as he walked past the snack aisle at the corner of his eye. Eyes widening when he realised that it was you in your sleep deprived glory.

You were wearing one of the hoodies he had gifted you for your 16th birthday, your eyes were half-lidded as if you were on the brink of falling asleep on the spot. A hand rubbing one of your eyes as the other holds on to the large packet of flaming hot cheetos against your chest. Jaemin felt his throat getting dry at the sight of you, his heartbeat beginning to pick up its pace as he felt the urge to come up and talk to you.

He gulped, standing in the middle of the aisle in complete shock as his mind tried to decipher that you were here. Alone. With him. Why were you here so early in the morning? Usually you would be asleep in bed until noon or until he would stop by at your house to wake you up. A frown appeared on his lips when he realised that he hasn’t actually stopped by at your house willingly in so long. 

He always dropped you off in front of your porch but whenever your mother offered him to come in for lunch or dinner, he would often politely decline and make up some random excuse on the spot to prevent spending any more time with you. Jaemin realised the only time he actually came to your house was for your family’s monthly dinners or group projects.

‘Wow, I was that much of a jerk?’ he thought to himself bitterly, feeling guilt and regret ball up in his chest. 

He turns his head up to look at you, his heartbeat picking up its pace when he saw how content and relaxed you look. He realised he never actually took the time to admire you, even in your most comfortable state. He should know, especially how the two of you have known each other since you were still toddlers.

‘Should I go up to her?’ he pondered.

‘It wouldn’t hurt to try to talk to her, right?’ he looked down at his watch, eyeing the time displayed on it before looking out the window, spotting Jeno scrolling through his phone right across the street from the store as he waited for him. ‘A small conversation wouldn’t hurt, right?’ he sighed before looking up back at your figure standing a few meters away from him. 

He watched you walk to the ice cream bar without a care in the world, opening the lid silently as you scanned the cold machine. Biting his lip nervously, he picked a random water bottle from the aisle before slowly coming up to you. Swallowing down his nerves, he cleared his throat before letting out a small “y/n?”

You turned, eyes widening in surprise at his unexpected figure standing before you. “Jaemin,” you didn’t even realise the words left your mouth until he shot you an endearing smile. “Hi, I didn’t expect to see you here,” you let out a puff of breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “Hey, what are you doing here so early on a Saturday?” Jaemin asked, putting his hands behind his back, his hand wrapping around his wrist as he leaned towards you slightly.

“I just wanted some snacks,” you replied in a quiet tone, your voice hoarse as if you had just woken up from your sleep. You gestured to the bag of chips in your arms, making Jaemin nod, his mouth forming a small ‘o’ in response. You bit your lip, “what about you?” you asked rather hesitantly.

You both knew the answer to this, considering how Jaemin always rants to you about the silly things he and Jeno would do every Saturday on their morning cycles together back when you were still on speaking terms. But you couldn’t take the awkward silence settling in between you if you didn’t try to keep the conversation going.

“I was just cycling with Jeno and ran out of water, ” Jaemin shrugged, standing up straight as he cocked his head at the direction of one of the windows, causing you to turn your head to see your friend standing not far from the store, standing beside two bicycles while fidgeting with his phone. “Oh, I guess you two are still going on your Saturday morning dates,” you chuckled, rubbing your left eye with one of your palms. 

“You really need to stop calling them dates,” he frowned, jutting out his bottom lip slightly at your words. “I mean, I’m not exactly wrong, aren’t I?” you snickered, feeling your body ease up with how smooth the conversation was going, the awkward tension decreasing with every passing second as you scanned through the row of ice cream tubs and popsicles. 

“I’m actually surprised to see you awake at this hour, you’re usually asleep until noon,” he commented, taking a step forward to look through the ice cream bar with you. “What are you talking about? I’ve always been awake at this hour, though,” you raised your brow at him, pulling out a raspberry flavored popsicle, inspecting it before putting it back down, running your hands through the plastic wrappers.

“Really? That’s a surprise,” Jaemin’s eyebrows shot up. Back when the two of you were still in good terms, Jaemin would often call you before 11 AM just in case you had something to do or somewhere to go to ever since you were 15. “Yeah, I figured I can just do a lot of things if I wake up earlier than planned,” you shrugged. 

“Wow, getting up early at your own will? It’s good to hear that you’re using your time more productively,” Jaemin exclaimed with a smile of disbelief. You bit your lip, nodding in response. “I guess so,” you mumbled back with a small shrug. Truth be told, back when you were still devoted on pursuing Jaemin, you never woke up early despite being told off by your parents multiple times. You just wanted to wake up to the sound of his voice every morning to start your day off as happy as you can be.

At times like this, you wished that he didn’t stop giving you morning calls. Come to think of it, when did he stop calling you every morning? When did you grow used to his absence even when he was just right there in front of you?

Noticing how silent you got, Jaemin took it upon himself to change the topic, his eyes scanning the room before landing on a watermelon flavored popsicle. “Hey, remember when we used to eat these as a kid?” Jaemin asked with an enthusiastic smile, a hopeful glint sparkling in his eyes as he raised the popsicle up at you, hitting you with a wind of nostalgia.

“Oh yeah, you used to ask your mom to buy you the whole stock back then,” you chuckled, grabbing a popsicle of the same brand that was supposed to be Melon flavored. “This really brings me back,” you smiled, turning to Jaemin who gave you a boyish smile. Oh how the littlest things can bring back such unpleasant memories. 

 “Nana!” you exclaimed, waddling over to the football court once you saw Jaemin walk out of after school practice. As usual, you were waiting for Jaemin to get out of practice so he can drive the both of you home. And being the considerate person that you ironically are, you decided to buy popsicles from the market nearby your school for your friends (mainly Jaemin but you felt bad midway for not buying them so you came back and bought your friend some too).

Jaemin turned to you with a heavy sigh, wiping the sweat off of his hair with a damp towel as he and his friends watched you come up to them with a large plastic bag in your hands. “Hey guys,” you greeted with a small smile, earning small waves and hey’s in return. “So I bought some popsicles for you guys while you were in practice,” you opened the plastic bag in front of them, watching as their exhausted expression morphed into an excited one in an instant.

“Dude, you really didn’t have to,” Jeno said as he watched Haechan, Chenle and Jisung dig their hands into the bag you were holding. “Don’t tell her that! If you say that she won’t buy us food again next time,” Haechan hissed, smacking his friend on the arm as he handed Jeno a popsicle of his own. “Haechan!” Jaemin barked, giving the older boy a death glare.

“He’s not wrong though, ‘Nana’,” Chenle snickered, mocking the sweet tone you used when calling out his name, patting the boy’s back to ease him up. “I don’t mind being broke. My wallet loves treating you guys,” you waved it off with a soft laugh, waving your bag in front of Jaemin, gesturing for him to grab one of the two remaining popsicles left in the plastic bag. 

Jaemin gave you a pointed look, raising his brow as if he wanted to tell you off. Giving him an innocent smile you waved the bag in front of him. “Come on, it’s gonna melt, you know.” Jaemin’s eyes were filled with exhaustion and the slightest bit of annoyance, but nonetheless, it never failed to send small needles into your heart.  

“You really should stop wasting your time and money on these things,” Jaemin sighed, shoving his hand in the bag and pulling out a watermelon flavored popsicle. “I like hurting my wallet. Plus, you guys looked like you needed something refreshing. I’m just doing you guys a favor,” you giggled, pulling out the last popsicle in the bag and throwing the bag in a nearby trash can.

“Bless your kind soul, y/n,” Jisung groaned, putting his hands together as if he was praying. “She’s a keeper, Jaemin. You sure you ain’t gonna drop the whole ‘I hate soulmates’ bull crap?” Haechan asked, nudging Jaemin’s sides as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively with a bite of his popsicle. “Coming from the guy who bites his popsicles, I think you should keep your opinions to yourself,” Jaemin snapped back, ripping the wrapper open with an annoyed roll of his eyes. 

You kissed your teeth, feeling your heart ache in your chest at his cold tone. Shaking the disappointment out of your head, you gave them a lighthearted laugh, waving it off before tearing off the wrapper of your own popsicle. “Leave him alone, he’s going to change his mind sooner or later,” you mused, earning a soft scoff from Jaemin beside you. 

“How endearing. Can’t wait to rub it in your face when that happens, Jaemin,” Chenle grinned, giggling at how the older boy’s frown grew deeper with every word. “Y/n, let’s just go home,” Jaemin sighed, tightening his grip on the saddle of his bag as he attempts to suppress his annoyance. “See you guys tomorrow,” Jaemin turned away from you and his friends, waving at them. 

“Wait for me!” you exclaimed, pulling the strap of your bag closer to you as you ran after him. 

“Look they’re even having the same flavored popsicle. Isn’t that cute? Couple goals,” Haechan snickered, pointing at how the two of you were having the same watermelon flavored popsicles. You looked down at the icy dessert in your hand, you didn’t even realise that you had the same flavor as him. You couldn’t help but let out a small ‘oh’ in response. 

“Hey look Jaemin, we actually-” 

You looked up and paused midway from finishing your sentence when you saw Jaemin walk towards the trash can with his melting popsicle (which he barely touched) and dumped it in with no hesitation. His expression is stone cold and void of emotion. “Y/n, let’s just go,” you could hear the way he gritted his teeth through his words, causing your heart to drop to your stomach. Your friends didn’t dare to comment anything else about you and Jaemin.

For the way you were trailing after him like a kicked puppy had caused them to wish that they actually kept their mouths shut. 

“Y/n?”

“Oh, yeah?” you snapped out of your thoughts with a small hum, turning to look at Jaemin who was giving you a concerned expression. “Are you okay?” he asked rather hesitantly, noticing how the comforting glint in your eyes vanished the moment you snapped out of your thoughts and averted your gaze back onto his face. You opened your mouth to say something but quickly closed it when you felt your mouth getting dry.

“Uh, yeah. I’m fine.” you nodded, averting your eyes down at the ice cream bar, dropping the popsicle back into the machine and closing it. “I’m going to go now. My mom’s going to start wondering what’s taking me so long,” you lied, avoiding eye contact as you gave him a small smile. “I’ll see you at school, Jaemin,” you dart your eyes to his for a brief second before looking away and walking hastily to the cashier.

Jaemin watched you disappear around the aisle with a disappointed expression on his face, a lonely feeling balling up inside him when he realised you must’ve remembered something he did in the past to make you go so abruptly. He missed you. So much. So damn much.

He longs to talk to you again. He longs to spend more time with you without having any awkward tension like the old days. He wants to talk to you about his favorite video games and hear you rant about the shitty things a certain character did in the movie you recently watched. But he couldn’t.

And now he finally understands how you felt throughout all these years. And the only thing he could do was to keep going, he knew that if he stopped, he didn’t know what else to do with himself.

Jaemin was getting tired. Your high school graduation was less than 7 months away and so far, he has not made any progress in getting closer to you. Unless you count the awkward small talks the two of you had made the past few weeks, but asides from that, there wasn’t any improvement in your relationship it was almost laughable. 

He didn’t know how you managed to be so patient with him when he was going crazy with every single day, but yet again, the thought of it made you appear even more admirable. He found himself longing for your presence even more. Hell, he even missed the little things you do when you’re around him. 

The way your smile glowed up the entire room whenever you see him, the way your voice was filled with adoration whenever you call out his name, the way you would come up to him with arms wide for a big hug (even though he had never reciprocated your affections back then) whenever he was in the room. 

He missed that. And his heart ached at the fact that he took your affections and kindness for granted. All he wanted to do was to talk things out. And he was going to talk it out whether you want to or not. You needed closure. You both knew that. And he was done avoiding it. 

You were in the library doing your assignments, your brows furrowed in concentration, your tongue sticking out slightly at the left corner of your lips, your head leaning to the side slightly. Jaemin almost felt guilty for planning on disturbing you while you were in your protective little bubble, but there was something drawing him to you with every passing second. 

Taking a deep breath, he eased up his muscles before gathering his courage to finally walk up to you. The atmosphere getting heavy with every step he took, and it felt like gravity was pulling him down as his his anxiety spiked up with every ‘tick tock’ the wall clock makes. Suppressing the urge to gulp down. 

“Hey.” 

You froze, your hand pausing from writing as you slowly looked up at him, internally wishing that it wasn’t who you think it was. “Hi,” you breathed out, your eyes fixating on each others as you recognize the familiar sad glint in his eyes. You knew that whatever he was going to do wasn’t going to be good, not with that hopeless look in his eyes. 

“Can we talk now, please? About us?” he bit his lip, his voice going quiet despite the fact that you were the only ones in the library at that moment. There was a pregnant pause between you as you took in his words, your mouth opening and closing as you tried to come up with a reason to leave. But alas, the half written paper on the table between you and Jaemin was enough for you to realise that there was no escaping in this. 

You didn’t know what else to say other than the small “now?” you squeaked out. Jaemin gave you a determined (but also adorable) nod, gripping the saddle of his bag tighter against him. “I’m done avoiding the topic. We kept avoiding this talk for the longest time, so let’s just talk this out casually,” he took in a deep breath nervously, watching your expression closely. 

You looked down at your paper, biting your lip before kissing your teeth, flipping the pen in your hold so you can click the tip to distract your nerves. “Why do we need to talk about it though?” you muttered under your breath, feeling his eyes boring holes into your skull. His pupils dilate at this. “Y/n, we can’t keep pulling and pushing each other away. We’re graduating soon, we need to talk about it eventually,” Jaemin sighed.

He felt his heartbeat increase with every word that spilled from his mouth. He was getting all worked up as he watched your expression grew dim at the mention of talking about you. Why were you so eager to avoid the topic at all costs? Why won’t you try to give him a chance? Why won’t you give this a chance? Why don’t you want to try to fix this? Jaemin was confused. Confused with his feelings and confused about your situation. 

“What if I don’t want to talk about it?” you tightened your grip on your pen, your eyes gazing down at the carpet floor. “I really don’t want to talk about this, Jaemin,” you closed your eyes for a small month, taking in a shuddering breath as you sense the atmosphere getting thicker between you. “But I do. Please, I just want to talk about what’s going to happen to us,” Jaemin bit his lip, his eyes desperate for yours to look back up.

“Jaemin. I’m telling you in the friendliest way possible, I really don’t want to talk about this. Please respect that,” you sucked in your lips nervously, tapping your pen against the paper hastily. Jaemin was starting to get frustrated, “what’s the harm in talking like two civilized human beings?” he unintentionally snapped at you, his sharp tone causing your eyes to shot up at his face in surprise.

You furrowed your brows at how he’s getting so riled up about something this simple. But then again, how do you explain to your soulmate that you don’t want to try and fight for a relationship that never existed in the first place? Can he really blame you for being cautious? Can he really blame you for giving up on the two of you this time?

 “Can’t you just respect the fact that I don’t want to talk about it?” you retorted in a tone of disbelief, sitting up straight when you realise that Jaemin was getting angry for no absolute reason. “Well you didn’t respect the fact that I wasn’t into you either back then and look how that turned out!” he snapped back, words spilling out of his mouth as his heart raced against his chest.

“Y/n, I didn-”

“Fine. You wanted to talk right, so let’s talk,” you leaned back against your chair, letting out a defeated sigh as you rubbed your temples in distress. Jaemin kissed his teeth, his eyes glancing at your exhausted figure that mirrored his own. He took a deep exhale before pulling the chair right across yours so he can sit down in front of you. 

He licked his lips nervously, knowing full well that you were silently gesturing him to go first with the exhausted gaze you were giving him. Taking another deep exhale, he poked the insides of his cheek with his tongue as he tried to decipher what to say. He muttered an almost in audible ‘fuck it’ when he decided that he was just going to say whatever came to heart.

“I’m sorry.” 

Your eyes twitched in slight interest, your pupils looking up at his nervous figure. His eyes staring deep into yours, exhaustion and sadness glossing over his pupils. “I’m so sorry for everything. The music box. The whole talking shit behind your back, embarrassing you in front of our friends and family whenever you tried to give me affection, the sudden kiss at the party, making you uncomfortable, everything. I’m truly, truly sorry for everything,” he took in a deep breath.

“I-I don’t even know where to begin with this so I’m just going to say whatever comes to mind,” Jaemin clenched his fists in an attempt to calm his racing heart, taking a deep breath before letting it out and giving you a serious expression. 

“At the party, on your birthday when I found out we were soulmates. I suddenly felt like I was forced to like or love you because we had matching tattoos. I didn’t want that kind of pressure on me, and it wasn’t easy when our parents constantly nagged us about it,” he confessed, pulling on the cuffs of his black jacket as he looked down at his hands wordlessly. 

“But no one was telling you to love me now, Jaemin. You should’ve just taken this chance to enjoy my absence, I was a nuisance to you,” you mumbled out without hesitation, your cold tone sending small needles into his heart. “But can you blame me if I already have? Whoever created us made this whole soulmate system so that we can love each other, I realise that now,” he bit his lip nervously. 

You stared at him for a small moment, your eyes meeting as Jaemin tried to decipher what you were thinking behind your unreadable expression. “You don’t really love me Jaemin,” you stated with a heavy sigh, leaning your cheek against your knuckles, your elbow propped up on the table. “Don’t give me that hope, Jaemin. You don’t like me like that, you just think you do, you don-”

“You can’t just assume my feelings like that, y/n,” he cut you off, using the same monotonous tone you were using against him. He lifted his hand so that it was laying on the table his heart racing at the small distance your hands had when he did so. “You’re one to talk,” you mumbled under your breath, letting out a small huff afterwards.

“Look, I was hurting a lot back then. Now that I’m willing to accept the fact that you’ll never like me back the same way I liked you, you came up to me and tell me you ‘like’ me,” you raise up two fingers as quotation marks, a sad frown stretching across your face at the mention of him loving you. “After what? Two years? Two years of treating me like garbage?” 

“I was selfish,” Jaemin admitted. “I still am, I admit it. But you were selfish too back then! You wanted this so bad and for so long, why won’t you just take the chance so we can put this all behind us and start over now that I’m willing to give this-to give us a try?” he pointed at the two of you to emphasize on his words, a dull ache beginning to appear in his left wrist.

“Don’t you get it? I’m tired, Jaemin. I’m so tired of getting hurt all the time. I’m just so damn tired. Do you really expect me to forgive you for all the things you did just because I finally did what you ask and step out of your life?” you snapped, straightening your posture. 

“I didn’t know you were hurting. Hell, I didn’t even know you felt that way. You could’ve just told me and then maybe we could’ve figured something out,” Jaemin rambled on, running his hands through his hair in distress. “Really Jaemin? Really? Would we actually ‘figure something out’?” you huffed incredulously, rubbing your forehead as you began to feel your sadness slowly morph into anger. 

“I don’t know if you can recall but back at the dinner party with our family. I don’t think you bat an eye when I was on the verge of sobbing my eyes out in front of you. Hell, you didn’t even talk to me for weeks afterwards!” you exclaimed, clenching your fists on the table, feeling your heart ache in your chest at the sour thought. And the fact that the look Jaemin was giving you was fairly similar to the cold expression he gave you that night wasn’t helping either. 

“I was just annoyed. We both needed time to sort out our thoughts, you know. I didn’t mean for things to get this far and fucked up!” Jaemin shot back defensively, raising his hands up to emphasize on his words. “Well apparently you didn’t mean a lot of things but it happened anyway, so what am I supposed to do, Jaemin?” you couldn’t help but raise your voice slightly out of frustration, eyes glaring daggers at him. 

“Give me a chance to start over? Give me a second chance? I don’t know if you noticed but the tables have turned. I get it, I fucking get it now. I know how you feel whenever I treat you like shit and ignore you, I really do. I just want a second chance.” 

This discussion was just going worse than Jaemin had thought. You two were just plain out getting your pain and frustrations out, thus heating up this argument even more. Thank god the librarian was nowhere to be seen, you both know full well if they caught you yelling at each other, you two would definitely be kicked out in an instant. 

“I’m not having this conversation anymore, Jaemin,” you groaned, rubbing your face against your hands, groaning into them before standing up abruptly and picking up your stuff hastily. “Leave me alone, Jaemin. Please. I just want some time to myself. Time to think about how we ended up like this,” you sighed, avoiding his eyes as you shoved your paper in your bag carelessly. 

“No, you give up on me back then. Now I’m not giving up on you,” Jaemin shook his head in determination, standing up as well to stop you and keep you from leaving so you two can talk more. Jaemin was then taken aback when his desperate eyes met your own cold ones, anger glossed over your pupils as you let out a small grunt. 

“Well I gave up now, didn’t I? I think you should, too,” you hissed back, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you tugged your sweater down and smacked the eraser shavings from your drawing session earlier. “Then can you stop it?” he asked, his voice wavering. “Can you just stop looking at me as if you don’t like me anymore?” he pleaded, his voice becoming small. So small, it was almost inaudible. 

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” you frowned, feeling a lump gather in your throat, your eyes watering as you walk past a hopeless Jaemin. 

“You hurt me so much. I’m starting to et why you hated this whole soulmate system.”

OH DEAR GOD THIS WAS JUST P A I N F U L  TO WRITE. THIS TOOK ME TWO WHOLE WEEKS PLS. 

anyways, here’s something to celebrate my official return to this damn blog. I almost gave up on this blog but my fear of letting people down always got the best of me so enjoy! 

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