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#who made a dumb choice while her world was falling apart
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I’m back from my coma to talk about Nimona again
Specifically these scenes 
Because this is the moment where the similarities between Gloreth and Ambrosius’ stories end
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At face value, these scenes seem incredibly similar 
In both scenes, Gloreth and Ambrosius are watching terrified as their homes are burning down around them because of a “monster” 
But that’s where the similarities stop
Because in the first scene, Gloreth decides to listen to everything that her community has told her 
And in the second scene, Ambrosius has finally figured out that everything he’s been told since he was a kid is a lie
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octofaewrites · 6 months
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Octofae’s Fic List™️
All of my works can be find here:
I write for a variety of fandoms, so here we go - fandoms include: Bleach, Pokémon, Winx Club, and a few others!
Bleach - IchiRuki
Series
Masaki Lives! AU
Bleach, but Masaki was the parent who lived instead of Isshin.
The Noodle Saga
Crack Series involving Ichigo pining away for Rukia while Renji is trying to protect his captain’s dignity. (He is terrible at it.)
The Mystery of the Rukongai Crater
Paranormal Investigators, but make it Hallmark!AU
Conversations with the Future In-Laws
Hypothetical scenarios where Ichigo & Rukia talk to their future in-laws.
IchiRuki Month
Collection of works for IchiRuki Month
IchiRuki Week
Collection of works for IchiRuki Week
Stand Alone Stories
Performance Review
Three Casual Acquaintances™️ start a podcast as they try to solve the mystery of the sudden death of a neighbor in their swanky apartment complex.
Operation Christmas Play
Ichigo is trying to be romantic and Urahara has the connections.
Bleach - Others
Ready, Set, Caw….?
Renji/Orihime - jokefic written for a friend! Two dingdongs try to make cookies and a random crow keeps trolling them.
Through space and time, my love belongs to you (Chapter 1)
GrimmIchiRuki - Rukia is getting married to Grimmjow and Ichigo is sad because he’s hopelessly in love with them both - his life is surely over… or is it?
This story is a multi-author, round-robin project for GIR weekend!
Other Writers: kleinegirl87, AiTsuki97, Mako_After_Dark, AriadneKurosaki
Pokémon -
Pokémon: Brilliant Diamond & Shining Pearl
Merry Mishaps
Dawn, Lucas and Berry decided to exchange presents. Their starters do a bad job of being helpful.
No pairings - Written for the Pokémon Winter Wonderland Zine 2023
Pokémon: Legends Arceus / Diamond/Pearl/Platinum - VoloKari
Series
Somewhere over the Sea
The Pirate AU that no one needed or asked for.
Conversations at the Company Water Cooler
Idiot coworkers in a situationship and too dumb to admit they’re dating.
Sweet Like Honey
Friends with Benefits™️ who are benefiting across Hisui.
As the World Falls Down
Angsty Soulmate AU, where I don’t let them be together.
Volokari Week
Collection of stories I did for Volokari Week 2023
Stand Alone Stories
Déjà Vu - I’ve just been in this Place Before
I want to be cool and do a reimagining of PL:A; I’m just not cool.
Time Won’t Fly (Dead Dove - MIND THE TAGS)
Akari not in a good place.
Doll (Dead Dove - MIND THE TAGS)
Akari is not having a good time. Set in BumbleTee’s Cop AU
When My World Shakes, I Feel Alive
Sweet conversation between Dawn/Volo after getting her drunk idiot roommates to bed.
Shopping is Serious Business
Crackfic. Volo’s real punishment for trying to subjugate Arceus is having to go shopping with his daughter and her equally high maintenance friend.
Pokémon: Scarlet & Violet - Arviana
Safe & Sound
Juliana is tired from her near death experiences and meeting ghosts and gets a much needed Arven-hug.
Sucker.
Arven can’t tell Ogerpon no.
Treasure
Arven reflects on how his family is his treasure
Paradise is Nothing but a Smile
Arviana Picnic Date!
And, maybe it was ego swinging
The AU where Turo pulled his head out of his ass and was a parent to Arven.
Home is Where the Heart Is
Juliana made it back from Blueberry Academy and is beyond glad to be reunited with Arven
Pokémon: Scarlet & Violet - Draymine
I created a Discord Server for Draymine, Arviana, and Kiercey - Other ships are welcome! It can be joined HERE - (18+ Please!)
Series
You are in Love
An on-going series featuring snapshots through Drayton and Carmine’s relationship.
Stand Alone Stories
Well, this is a choice
Jokefic - Kieran sees that Crispin has awful dragon claws for feet and Drayton and Carmine’s alone time keeps getting interrupted.
Elevator Woes, Smash Bros, and Mistletoe
Jokefic - Crispin is the only single guy in his friend group and the elevator rides of Blueberry Academy are long ones. Established Draymine and Kiercey in the background.
a lot to live without
Sometimes, life doesn't go the way one wants it to. TW: Major Character Death.
Pokémon: Scarlet & Violet - Kiercey
Kieran & Lacey.
Building a Home
Just a moment in a post-canon setting in which Kieran and Lacey are quite silly.
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ktelova · 2 years
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Her Favourite Sunset
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Pairing: Kate Bishop x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Death, grief and it's just pretty sad
Summary: If she could stop missing you, she would. But if she's not missing you, she doesn't know who she is. Letting go of you feels like letting go of herself.
Word count: 1,409
A/N: Apologies in advance for how depressing this turned out, twas a 3am writing.
I do NOT give anyone permission to repost or translate any of my works on any platform.
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Kate was crouched down on the grass, eye level with the headstone in front of her. She brushed off the granite with the sleeve of her jacket to reveal your name. Today marked one year since you died. One year ago you left this earth, you quit breathing and she continued. The sun still shines every morning and is replaced by the moon when night rolls around. The birds chirping still wake her up at the crack of dawn and she still hates the way the sun peers through that tear in the curtain, the same one you said you’d replace. The world doesn’t stop for anyone, she realized. Her life went on, sure, but it was never the same again.
She no longer hears your laughter when you’re sitting on the couch watching some tv show, one that she’d initially thought was stupid but watched for you. She doesn’t get to hold you when you cry anymore, the only thing holding you now is the walls of the casket you lie in six feet below the ground. She doesn’t get to share the little victories with you or the big ones. You don’t tackle her when she walks through the door after a long day of work, she doesn’t get to lightly tickle at your sides until you laugh so hard you have no choice but to let her go. She doesn’t get to hold you at all hours of the night and call you at any time during the day just to hear your voice. She doesn’t get to do anything with you anymore because you’re not here.
She’ll never get to playfully nudge you again after you made a dumb joke as the two of you walked down the street and you’ll never nudge her back so hard that she’ll lose her balance, you’ll never catch her before she falls. No one’s there to catch her now and she misses you every time she falls against the pavement. It feels as though she’s lost a limb, something she relied on. Her heart stutters when she hears your name and she misses you when she hears your song on the radio. She sees you in everything, she thinks about how you’ll never experience anything past age twenty-two and she thinks about how your heart stopped only weeks before it could hit twenty-three.
And everyday she waits for this nightmare to end, to wake up and see you sleeping right next to her, but that will never happen because you are gone. She can’t wake up, this is real life. Sometimes she thinks her brain lets her forget though, because it’s easier. Then she finds something, a photo of the two of you on a walk, a post-it note letting her know you were out getting groceries and you’d be home in a couple hours or that damn sweater of hers, your favourite sweater, the one you stole the first night you’d spent in her apartment. And the full weight of what’s been lost crashes down on her, it’s a suffocating feeling, almost like she’s drowning.
You used to be here and you should be here. Your souls are intertwined but you’ve been torn from her and she will always feel the missing. If she stopped missing you, she wouldn’t know who she was. You were the best part of her, her moral compass, you always knew what to say and do and she was beyond lost without you.
The dull ache in her calves let her know she’d been here for a while, she was staring at your headstone unsure of what to say. She figured it didn’t matter, none of it would bring you back and you wouldn’t respond anyways. Tears begun to fall from her eyes onto the flowers resting over your grave and her voice wavered as she spoke. “I miss you, Y/n.” She was sobbing now, barely able to form any words. Taking a deep breath, she touched the top of the headstone, the cold was almost soothing underneath the palm of her hand.
Once she regained the strength to her voice, she continued. “I still don’t know if you can hear me. But I feel so alone.” She talked to you for a while, telling you about all the thoughts running through her mind, how her day was and how she wished she could just hold you again. She wanted to have a conversation with you, to hear your voice and your laugh. She wanted to see you smile so wide, your eyes crinkled at the edges. She wanted to hold your hand as you both walked down the busy streets, without a care in the world because you made each other fearless. She wanted to love you again.
She didn’t want to sit here, talking to a piece of granite with your name engraved on it. She didn’t want to pretend that by being here, it was the same as being with you. She didn’t want to act like she doesn’t break down at the slightest mention of your name. Nothing had been the same since you left. The thought of not knowing how you were was breaking her, she could only hope that the other side was better, wherever and whatever that may be. She hoped you knew just how much you meant to her, how much she loved you. You had to know, you just had to, she wouldn’t accept anything else.
When you lose somebody, when someone dies, all that’s left is a hole in your life where that somebody that you cared about used to be. Kate figured she’d never fill that hole again and maybe she didn’t want to. You were her home, without you, it’s always going to be just a house. She could get a house anywhere but her home was lost to her forever.
You wished you could let her know that you did in fact know how much she cherished you, that sometimes these things just happen. It’s no one's fault, really. You desperately wanted a way to let her know you’d been looking out for her ever since that day. That you would continue looking out for her, as long as she should live. You wanted to tell her that it’s okay if she falls in love again, she shouldn’t put her life on hold just because you don’t have one anymore. You wished she knew that you’d be waiting for her in the afterlife and you’d keep waiting. She’ll see you again, when the time is right, but for now, she had to keep living.
The sunset drew Kate’s attention back to the present moment, she had been here for hours. She stood back to her feet and brushed off her knees, she was mesmerized by the beautiful colours above her head. Your colours, the bright pink scattered within the blueish purple tint of the sky, how the yellows and oranges just peek over the horizon, barely noticeable but still there.
She never realized before just how much it reminded her of you. It was beautiful and if she closed her eyes, she could almost hear you laugh, almost feel you snake your arms around her from behind and the way you gave her cheek a quick kiss before resting your head on her shoulder. She smiled at the memory, so wide that it reached her eyes and she let out a soft chuckle. She wasn’t carrying the weight of the world in that moment and she wasn’t filled with sadness. She felt awfully light and quite content, the way she felt with you. She stayed like that for a few minutes, letting herself be engulfed by the memory and every detail within from the smell of your cheap perfume to how white your combat boots were.
You will always be her favourite sunset but you were also her favourite person. She wanted you to be with her instead of in the sky but she’d be okay as long as she knew you would look out for her. She realized all it took to see you was to close her eyes, memories exist outside of time and have no beginning or end, as long as she still had your memories together, she still had you. She’ll see you again someday, she had to believe that and for now, she’d live her life for the both of you. She’d live.
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bratkook · 3 years
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right now. (m) jjk.
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not yet, almost , right now
pairing. jungkook x reader genre. fluff, smut, idiots to lovers!! word count. 14.8k warnings. two mega fucking idiots<33, miscommunication/dumb assumptions, smut in forms of: fingering, oral sex (f.), orgasm denial, spanking, some spit bc duh, unprotected sex, super sweet & lovey!! also jungkook is a sweetheart pls love him summary. coming to terms with your feelings after getting off to the idea of your close friend is a little harder than you thought, but how long can you take before jungkook decides its time to move on? note. did jlin forget how to write for a few weeks? yes, yes she did....i know this took a long time but life is rough man so forgive me... but anyways lol the final part to the not yet!verse is hereeeee! thank you to @kithtaehyung​ for reading this over for me ily!! thank you guys for enjoying this mini series, the response was really unexpected but im sososo happy over every comment/ask i’ve gotten for this story. once again, tysm for your love and let me know what you think<3
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The evening sun illuminates Jungkook’s apartment, golden hour bouncing off every reflective surface and straight into his eyes the second he walks in, immediately squinting as he makes a beeline to shut the blinds. His head was already throbbing from the hangover that decided to peak around noon, a mean case of nausea putting a damper on his work day. So as much as he loved soaking in some vitamin D today was not the day. 
“Are you joking?” he huffs as he brings down the blinds, hand yanking at the flimsy string in an attempt to get it unstuck. “How stup—you’d think with the amount I pay every month in rent the blinds would work!” 
Alright, so maybe he was a little grumpy today, choosing to take it out on an inanimate object and blame it purely on the bad decisions made last night—definitely had nothing to do with the residual moping of you going on a date. This could be fixed, easily. 
The first order of business? Texting you to see if you’d be interested in devouring greasy food from your favorite place down the street. He’d get to see you and finally put something in his stomach, it’s the best of both worlds really. 
Jungkook forgets about the blinds, leaving them stuck in the awkward position as he walks away entirely, fishing his phone out of his pocket while he enters his room. It’s the same text he always sends when he’s hangry: If I don’t get food in the next 15 mins I'm burning this place down and taking you with me. 
He knows the response he’ll get, either that meme of the child in front of a burning house or an equally hangry paragraph. The phone gets tossed onto his bed as he changes out of his work clothes, needing to dispose of the business casual attire that was suffocating him, his old college hoodie giving him the comfort he needs. 
By the time he’s finally slipping on his sneakers he’s expecting you to come knocking on his door, your impatient attitude always putting a smile on his face. Half of the time your neighbors thought you were having arguments from the way you’d pound onto the slab of wood, saying his name with just enough annoyance laced into each syllable it would fool anyone into thinking you were actually upset instead of being a brat. But when that never comes, he reaches for his phone again. 
A few notifications fill up his screen, some instagram direct message previews, his group chat that he never responded to, and a few emails coming through, but you had yet to respond. Maybe it’s a little creepy, but Jungkook knows you’re home because he passed by your parked car on his way in. So his mind jumps to two extremes: you were either face down, drowning in your bathtub, or that yellow shades wearing wannabe version of himself was at your place. 
Not an ounce of shame sits within him as he speedwalks to the side his bed was on, placing both palms onto the wall before his ear was pressed against the cold drywall. Jungkook’s not really sure what would make him feel good, hearing you and Jung Hoseok together, or hearing nothing at all. His ears strain to hear anything, but the only sound he gets is his own blood pumping. 
With a small pout he pulls back, deciding he’d play the annoying neighbor role today and pound on your door instead. It’s a role he doesn’t take lightly, knuckles banging on the wood loud enough for you to hear wherever you were in your apartment. It takes a few minutes before any sign of life is shown, your door creaking open, and Jungkook is thankful because he was about to head to the maintenance office to ask for a key in case you actually were drowning in your bathtub. 
“C’mon, let’s get food,” he declares instantly, a charming smile on his face as he stands with his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. The smile slowly falls off when he gets a good look at you, hair looking like a mess on your head and your fluffy blanket draped around you as you give out a weak cough. “Are you sick?”
“I think so,” you rasp out, leaning against your door frame and tugging the blanket tighter around you. 
“Did that fucker give you mono?” Jungkook looks irritated, brows pinched together in a grimace—something you’re definitely not accustomed to seeing so you almost don’t catch his accusation.
“Jungkook, no! It’s nothing serious.”
He doesn’t look fully convinced, but he shrugs anyways, positive you weren’t interested in getting interrogated when you were feeling under the weather. “Alright, let me know if you need me to drive you to the doctor if it becomes something serious.”
With a roll of your eyes and a small smile, you wave him off, slowly shutting the door behind you. Your eye immediately peeks through your peephole, not relaxing until he makes his way down the hall and enters the elevator, still on his quest for greasy food. 
“God, how old are you?” you grumble to yourself, yanking the blanket off your body and onto the floor with a huff. Pretending to be sick to avoid your friend was a new low, especially after the post-orgasm epiphany you had last night. A sane person would come to terms with their feelings and confess to them, uncertainty and possible rejection be damned! But you? No, you have to fake a cold like the giant coward you are. 
The guilt only deepens when a knock comes from your door an hour later, a quick peek through your peephole allowing you to see Jungkook setting two plastic bags on the floor before stepping back and walking to his apartment next door. You don’t come out until you hear his door shut, seeing the logo of your favorite diner down the street. No doubt would your comfort meal be inside the takeaway container. 
It takes all you have to not rush over to his place and say you were lying when you see he had also gone ahead and got you cold medication, a few different bottles because he surely didn’t know which was best, along with teas and some cough drops. 
You’re a dirty liar. A horrible friend too. 
That doesn’t stop you from devouring the meal in the takeout box as you’re hunched over your breakfast bar like a little gremlin. “This is just for today,” you mumble out to yourself as you set the plastic fork down and chug some of the leftover alcohol you had in your fridge. It’s your own version of a pity party, except the food feels heavy in your stomach, knowing the man you were avoiding was the one who bought it—bring on the guilt. 
“I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”
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You’re a dirty liar and horrible friend 2.0. Why this time? Because tomorrow stretched out a few more days than planned. It wasn’t entirely intentional at first, getting stuck at work longer than usual and missing the weekly hangout at your place where you got your remote covered in cheeto dust as you argued over what to watch. But it trickled down onto shorter replies to his texts, or you scrambling out of your apartment and into the elevator so fast in order to not run into him, your mind still trying to list all the pros and cons to this potential relationship before you even had the guts to confess to your feelings. 
Jungkook didn’t know thats what was occupying your mind, no he was currently thinking the worst. He notices the change instantly, recognizing it because this was the exact way you had acted while you were with Hajoon, right before you broke the news to him that you needed to keep some distance while you focused on your relationship. So Jungkook automatically assumes that your sudden change in behavior after going on a single date with Jung Hoseok, was because you wanted to make your relationship with this man work. 
His assumption stings—a lot actually—and soon enough he stops initiating conversations altogether. He didn’t want to hear you tell him you had to distance yourself again, he’s not sure his heart could handle that a second time, so he decides to get ahead of the curb and take a massive step away from you. It hurts him to know you’re right next door, and just like before, it’s like you’re back to being total strangers. 
Safe to say Jungkook was currently going on his own downward spiral. 
You could text him like nothing had happened and he’d accept it with open arms, but instead you text your best friend an SOS text, begging her to meet you at your place. She calls you dramatic at first, but once you say it’s about Jungkook she shows up at your place in record time. 
“Did you finally fuck him?” Is her greeting of choice, spoken shamelessly from the hallway with no worry about her volume. She cackles when you yank the bottle of wine from her grasp and tug her into your apartment, letting the door slam behind her. 
“You’re lucky he’s not home you bitch.” An eye roll is her only response, yanking the bottle back and making her way into your kitchen to grab the opener. 
“So you didn’t fuck him?” The cork pops at her question, a curious glance staring you down as she pours the red liquid into an oversized cup. 
“No Seulgi, I didn’t fuck him. But I did...something.” It makes your face warm up as you remember it, gratefully grabbing the cup she hands your way because you definitely need some liquid courage before confessing to your sins.
She hums in thought as she raids your pantry for something to munch on, settling on a bag of mini pretzels before leading you to your couch, needing to know the gossip that led to your sos text. “Okay, did you accidentally send him a nude then?”
“No, that wouldn’t be so bad I think?” Sending him an accidental nude would be laughable, probably resolved by a few screaming texts and dumb jokes before moving on. But new feelings seeing the light of day seemed so much worse. “But I sort of kissed him at a club a few weeks ago to get back at Hajoon—long story,” you cut in when you see her ready to fire off questions. 
“And then I went on that failed Tinder date I told you about, and when I got home I sort of heard him, you know,”— you mimic a jerking off motion with your hand and ignore her lewd gasp, “and then I…” you trail off shamefully. 
“No!” she gasps even louder, hand pressed to her mouth and eyes wide. 
“Yes! And the fucking orgasm opened my eyes and made me realize that maybe that tiny crush you guys always joke about him having is real, and maybe I have a tiny crush on him too.”
“Does he know?”
“That I like him?”
“No, that you rubbed one out while listening to him you dirty slut!” Oh she’s loving this, leaning back into your cushions with a handful of pretzels resting on her boobs, a sly smile on her lips as she takes a sip of her wine. She’s the one who planted the seed in your mind, playfully joking about Jungkook any chance she got, saying he had the hots for you because she enjoyed the flustered look on your face. No doubt would she text the group chat with the news the second you finish this cry for help. 
“Do you think I told him? I can barely come to terms with the fact that I like him. Like what am I supposed to do?”
She sighs dramatically, munching on the final pretzel on her tits before sitting up and dusting off the crumbs from her shirt. “Look, I know you’re just realizing that he likes you so this is still new and fresh for you, but we’ve noticed it for years. It’s fine that you didn’t see it, you had other things occupying your mind.” 
You frown as you stare at the rug beneath your feet, remembering how life was when you first moved into this complex. Getting out of a previous relationship weeks prior, when you had met Jungkook your mind was not interested in pursuing anything with him regardless of how cute you thought he was. It made it easier for you to form a friendship, not worried about trying to impress him, or flirt with him, allowing him to see you for who you truly are. 
Jungkook had his fair share of girlfriends during the years, none of which were entirely serious but by the time he was completely single you had met Hajoon, and he had accepted the fact that maybe you were better off as friends and he would just admire you from afar. That is, until you decided to plant one on him. So technically this is your fault. 
“Jungkook likes you okay, and I’m sure if you just marched next door and told him you like him too he’ll drop on one knee and marry you.”
“Shut up,” you snort, shoving her shoulder with a smile. 
“As a matter of fact, go over there right now!” She stands up from her spot, yanking your arms to haul you up with her. 
“I told you, he’s not home. But, I’ll tell him. I have to.”
Seulgi crosses her arms over her chest as she stares at you, clearly displeased that she wouldn’t be witness to this love story unfolding in real time. “You better. You never know what sneaky little bitch is trying to get him to get over you.”
The sneaky little bitch in question is Park Jimin, currently sitting directly across from Jungkook, guzzling down beer like his life depends on it. It's impressive really, how quickly he empties the cup, eyes shut looking as content as could be even in the dim lighting. Jungkook can only watch with a grimace as his friend sets the glass down and wipes at his mouth with no sense of table manners. 
“What?” he burps, proceeding to pour more of the golden liquid into his cup from the pitcher in the middle of the table. 
“I always forget how absolutely disgusting you are. How do you do it?” Jimin just frowns at the question, not entirely understanding so Jungkook continues. “What switch do you flip to go from sipping champagne to chugging beer like a fucking biker.”
“It’s a talent, I know.” He smiles wide, reaching forward to grip Jungkook’s hand and force him to grab his own cup. Condensation was pooling around the bottom from sitting there untouched, and that just wouldn’t do on Jimin’s watch. “C’mon, drink it!”
“Fine,” Jungkook grumbles, raising the glass and allowing Jimin to clank the cups together before taking a big gulp. He doesn’t clear the cup like his friend did seconds prior but it's enough to appease him. It tastes absolutely bitter the whole way down, settling into his stomach uncomfortably, and the look on his face as he pushes the glass away from him is very telling. 
Boisterous shouts fill the sports bar they were in, huddles of people surrounding the tables and booths as they watched the current soccer match playing on the televisions lining the walls. Jungkook honestly feels like a debby downer now, moping in his seat instead of enjoying the atmosphere with his friend like they normally did. The current game was definitely not the reason Jungkook had texted Jimin to grab drinks, no he needed an outlet to talk about you—preferably in a space that didn’t have walls as thin as his apartment.  
When he barely acknowledges the plate of wings set in front of him Jimin huffs, resisting the urge to dig in because he knew once he did he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else. “Are you gonna be like this the entire time?”
“Like what?” Jungkook has the gall to ask, acting as if he wasn’t looking like a wounded animal. 
“Like you just discovered your wife of ten years is having an affair with your sister.”
He sits up straighter at that, eyes wide in disbelief. “Jesus.“
Jimin knew the jist of what was happening through the texts he had received the past week, but it seems like Jungkook didn’t want to jump into the topic of it at all now that they were sitting across from each other. He just sighs before deciding to be honest, wasting no time beating around the bush to hopefully be the voice of reason Jungkook needs. “You’ve been simping over her for years JK, and I get it, you think she could be the one. But what about you huh? It’s not fair for you to have your heart wrung out each time she gets a man and decides to put the friendship on pause—“
“That happened once!” He defends, brows pinched on his forehead as he shakes his head, ready to explain your situation because he wasn’t a fan of hearing his friend say anything about you when he didn’t truly know what happened. “The dude was a piece of shit and basically told her it was him or me. I’m not gonna crucify her for wanting a long term relationship to work.”
“Right, so she’s not icing you out again because she got a new man? That’s literally what you told me, it’s why I bought you this sympathy pitcher of beer!”
“Fuck you, you bought this pitcher for yourself.” Jimin had chugged two giant glasses of beer already, and was steadily working on his third, whereas Jungkook’s watered down cup remained relatively untouched. “Besides, I was just...spiraling and assumed when I sent you that desperate text. But I haven’t heard anything.”
Jimin can only stare blankly at the table as he processes what was just said before locking eyes with his friend once more, “Sorry, what? You haven’t heard anything? The hell kind of riddle is that.”
Jungkook sinks into the booth with a look of shame, not wanting to admit to occasionally laying in his bed at night in complete and total silence just to see if he could hear you and the hypothetical version of Jung Hoseok doing literally anything. It’s not one of his proudest moments, feeling like a bit of a creeper as he laid stiff on his bed, too scared to make a sound.  “Nothing, forget about it. Point is, I haven’t seen the fucker come in or out of her place, so what does that mean?”
A deep sigh comes from Jimin, hand reaching forward to push the beer closer to Jungkook, desperately trying to get him to drink and ease up. “It means you pay far too much attention to her. When was the last time you got any action?”
Two weeks ago. From his hand and filthy imagination. 
“A few months,” he grumbles, remembering his last hook up that happened a few days before he discovered you got dumped. 
“Get outta here.” Jimin rolls his eyes as he points to the door. “Literally, go stand at the corner outside, show some thighs or a tattooed titty and take your pick of the swarm of girls that will surely follow you.”
Jungkook thinks he’s joking, but when his friend doesn’t drop his hand and narrows his eyes threateningly he knows he’s being serious. “My tits aren’t even tattooed,”—his large palms press against his shirt covered chest as if to prove a point— “And you sound like a douchebag talking like this.”
“What? She went on a tinder date and definitely got laid, so you need to even out the playing field. Also, it might help you chill the hell out.”
“Oh my god, you’re not helping.” Jungkook really didn’t need that visual again, it had flashed in his mind too often the night of his pity party and now it was once again at the front of his brain. 
“Alright, okay. I’m throwing out my safe word right now.” Jimin leans closer, arms resting on the table with a confused look on his face. “What do you need from me here? Like, do I play the role of a supportive friend who wants you to get over her, or do I play the role of a friend who wants you to confess? Because you’re giving me some mixed signals Jeon.”
A groan escapes Jungkook, fingers rubbing at his eyes before dragging down his face as he sinks even further into his seat. “I don’t know.” 
It’s the truth. Jungkook had no idea what he wanted his friend to do to help him. He knew that although his feelings for you have weighed heavy on his chest for what seems like years, you technically had no idea, so he feels a little guilty over his frustration for the whole situation. You were newly single again and determined to go through this self proclaimed wild phase so Jungkook isn’t dumb enough to think you can’t go out and do whatever you want, even if that means being with someone who isn’t him. 
“Look,” Jimin sighs, pulling him out of his thoughts. “You only have two choices here, tell her how you feel and accept whatever comes with it, or make peace with the idea of just being friends. Either way, I think you need to loosen up and have fun tonight.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Jungkook sits himself up, wrapping his fingers around the cup in an effort to at least look like he wanted to be here. He couldn’t sit here and mope about a problem like this when he hadn’t attempted to come out and tell you how he feels. 
One night of loosening up to get you off his mind wouldn’t hurt, if anything it might help him come to his senses. At least that’s what Jimin was currently whispering with a mischievous smile on his lips. “It’ll be fine, I’ll make sure you don’t black out and get home safe. Who knows, you might get plastered enough to drunk text your confession.”
Jungkook glares at his friend, not liking the goofy look on his face as he starts to laugh. “I swear to god, you better not let me get to that point. Take my phone away from me.”
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Jimin obviously wants to see the world burn, or at least he enjoys it when Jungkook somehow digs himself into his own grave. That's exactly why he responds with a million laughing emojis when Jungkook texts him asking why the hell he hadn’t taken his phone last night. 
He did a good job hiding his shock when a knock came from his front door, half expecting it to be you, keeping a smile on his face as he allowed  the person who was very clearly not you in before swiftly entering his bathroom. Jungkook wants to stay locked here forever, holed up while he sits on his toilet and not in the living room with company. It wasn’t like it was bad company either, his drunken ass going through his contact list and sending an invitation to hangout the following day to the last person he spoke to, Aillie. 
The girl is sweet, someone he had a casual fling with for months, someone who was used to his random texts so she doesn’t think twice before agreeing. The only silver lining to this was that he hadn’t sent you a typo-filled drunken confession, which is what Jimin responds with before telling him to suck it up and leave his bathroom. 
Jungkook accepts his fate, as well as accepting that he is partially responsible for this. He shoves his device back into his pockets before standing up and flushing the toilet for show, washing his hands just to stall. One good glance at his reflection makes him cringe, stained shirt and sweats combo leaves him looking like the unprepared mess he is. Another detour through his room to change was a must before he has no choice but to step back out. 
“You’re totally hung over aren’t you?” Aillie jokes from her spot on the couch, comfortable enough in his apartment from the time spent here. She locks her phone as she stands up, taking her time to really look Jungkook over. He was not dressed like someone who was expecting a guest, and despite having seen Jungkook at his sloppiest, his previous attire of oversized shirt and slightly stained sweatpants didn’t look like someone who was expecting a fuck buddy to pop over. Even with his new outfit looking more put together, it was obvious Jungkook was caught off guard by her showing up. 
“What?” Jungkook dumbly asks, trying to come up with some lame excuse to justify his earlier appearance but he falls short. His fingers gently rake through his hair, a grimace falling on his face as he looks back up at her. “Actually, a little. Sorry, I got drunk last night when I text you so sober me was not really prepared.”
“Yeah I figured, you sent me some blurry selfies right after. But we can just hang, we don’t have to do anything,” she trails off, a soft smile on her lips. The only time they ever hung out was to hook up, having ten minute conversations before and after the fact. “Or I can leave too if it's weird that I’m here.” 
Jungkook is shaking his head before she can even finish, already feeling bad enough after texting her to come over. How shitty would he be if he immediately kicked her out. This was fine, a nice distraction from it all, decent middle ground that would help him get his mind off you without having to take Jimin’s douchebag advice. 
“No, we can watch a movie or something. It’s not like I have other plans.” Had this been two weeks ago it would be a totally different story. Jungkook would typically be waiting in his apartment as he stared at the slowly ticking clock, just waiting for it to strike 7:30 because that's when you usually got home. Then he’d either get a text from you to come over with snacks or you’d show up at his door and invite yourself over for the weekly game night. 
It didn’t happen last week, or the week prior, so Jungkook is very confident that it would not be happening today either. It’s that same sense of confidence—and saltiness—that allows him to get comfortable with Aillie, blissfully unaware that you had just pulled into the parking garage a few stories below. 
“I swear to god if you don’t go straight to his door the minute you get off the elevator I will never let you live it down.” Seulgi’s voice fills your car through the speakers, fading out as you shut the car off and bring your phone to your ear to continue the conversation. 
“Dude, I just got off work. I need to make myself look decent.” Plastic bags rustle together as you grab the snacks you had picked up on your way home, all full of yours and Jungkook's favorite treats. It was definitely a guilt fueled purchase, hoping the items were enough to distract him from the fact that you were kind of a bitch for ghosting him recently, or at least butter him up into accepting your apology easier. 
“You think Jungkook cares if you’re a little sweaty from work? He’s a grown man, that’s not gonna stop him from going do—“
“Okay, goodbye!” You hastily cut her off as you press the elevator button, hearing her rambling off about being interrupted. “I’m about to get on the elevator, I’ll tell you how it goes.”
With a small sigh you hang up and stuff the device into your purse, stepping onto the lift as the doors open up and pressing the number for your floor. Your hands are clammy as you grip the plastic bag, uncharacteristically nervous about seeing Jungkook again after so long. 
The main obstacle for you to get over was apologizing for being a crappy friend, and if that went well you were going to suck it up and just come out and confess, the odds of him saying no were slim. And even if he did, you’re perfectly content with staying friends, as long as you could keep him close. 
It’s that same optimistic mentality that allows you to calm down as you enter your place and decide to give yourself a minute to mentally prepare. His favorite ice cream gets put into the freezer for later before you decide to shower and give yourself a pep talk the entire time. 
This pep talk of yours is filled with best case scenarios: Jungkook accepting the confession with open arms, finally being able to kiss him properly, everything falling into place the way it should have a long time ago. And as you head over, totally sober, freshly washed, looking and smelling your best, you really can’t picture this going any other way. 
With a deep breath you’re knocking on his front door, quickly pulling back your hand and wiping it onto your pants as you step back. Jungkook hears the knock clearly from his spot on the couch, his gaze tearing away from the television to stare at his front door with a small frown. He hadn’t ordered any food and Aillie had just excused herself to use his bathroom so his brain is having a hard time wondering who it could be. 
He curses under his breath, not putting it past himself to have texted a second person last night with an invitation to hang out. Why was Jungkook a friendly drunk?
As he presses his eye against the peephole and spots you standing there, he thinks he’s imagining things. It had seemed like so long since he had last seen you in person, and the warped fish-eyed version of you has him stepping back and rubbing his eyes before taking another glance. He suddenly feels like throwing up, and he can’t blame his earlier hangover on it. 
For a brief second he contemplates pretending he hadn’t heard you, but the guilt of doing so makes his heart twist, so he musters up the courage to open the door. It’s barely a crack really, just enough for you to see him while still concealing his apartment, something you definitely found strange because you’re usually flinging the door open and strutting right in, but you suppose his reaction is warranted considering your previous behavior. 
“Y/N, hey. Are you alright?”
“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine!” Your fingers tangle together in front of you, not entirely sure what to do with your nerves and Jungkook spots it easily. His own nerves sky rocket when he hears the sound of running water coming from his bathroom a few feet away, knowing Aillie would most likely pop out any second now, and he’s not sure why it feels like a dirty secret that he has another girl over. 
“Did you need something?”
“Yeah, I was actually wanting to talk to you about something kind of important.” Your smile is hopeful, despite the nerves swirling in your eyes. The nervous skip of your heart is felt in your throat, not remembering the last time you had felt this way about telling someone how you felt about them romantically. 
“Right now?” he wonders, fingers gripping the door handle tighter when he hears his bathroom door unlock, the sound of footsteps rounding the corner before stepping into the living room, a few feet away from the door and in perfect view of the wedge Jungkook had opened. 
When your eyes flicker over his shoulder, spotting the auburn haired girl giving you a curious glance, you feel all your confidence slip away. Seulgi had definitely been right about needing to confess soon, Jungkook was a catch and just because you hadn’t realized it sooner didn’t mean the rest of the world was blind to it. 
“Yeah, right now...but you’re busy, so it’s fine!” You want to scramble away from there, feeling dumb the longer you stand there. Jungkook wants to say he’s not busy, kick the girl out of his place and invite you in but that wouldn’t be fair to her, for all he knew your important conversation would be a repeat of the conversation you had over Hajoon, and he really didn't want to get friendship dumped while this girl was in his apartment. He’s pretty sure his Yelp rating would drop a bit if he cried on the couch about you to his old hook up. 
He starts to speak but you cut him off before he can, “Don’t worry about it! I’ll see you later.” You force a smile before walking away, not allowing him to get a word in as you quickly step into your apartment and move to the furthest room away from your bedroom. 
You can feel the cold of your kitchen floor as you sit on your butt, back against your cabinets, the small twinge of defeat spreading within you. “This is fine. Maybe she’s just a friend. I can always tell him tomorrow,” you whisper out. But your fingers seem to think otherwise as they type out a message to Seulgi, informing her that the mission was unsuccessful and you’d be putting on The Notebook like you always did. It was basically protocol to do so when things went south in your life. 
She doesn’t even know how to console you, knowing she can’t tell you it was his loss or that he wasn’t worth it because she knows that’d be a lie and you wouldn’t believe it for a second. The only thing she can offer is coming over, but you’re quick to turn her down, deciding that being alone in the comfort of your bed as you inhaled the ice cream you bought for Jungkook would be best. 
Is being in your room the wisest choice when you know you share a wall with Jungkook—and he has a cute girl over? No. Probably not. But you figure if you hear anything explicit it’s just your dose of karma, so you accept it, turning up the volume of the movie a few levels just to soften the blow. 
However, Jungkook would definitely not be hooking up with her in his bedroom, or anywhere in his apartment for that matter. Luckily Aillie is blessed with the gift of reading the damn room and can easily spot the shift in Jungkook’s mood the second he shuts the door. She’s sitting on the edge of the couch now, hands gently placed on her knees as she gives him a sympathetic smile. 
“I get the vibe that somethings off.”
He looks up at her then, slowing his pace until he’s awkwardly standing in the middle of the room with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “My friend—my neighbor just wanted to talk about something. But everything’s fine.”
The lie tastes bitter on his tongue, and Aillie doesn’t believe him in the slightest. A small sigh fills the air as she stands up, collecting her bag and approaching him. “Look, I know deep talks really aren’t our thing so I’m not going to even try to dive into this, but you should go talk to your friend.”
A comforting hand is placed on his shoulder before she makes her way to the door to leave, Jungkook already following closely behind her. “No, you don’t have to go. You came all this way because I texted you with way too much tequila in my system.”
“Jungkook,” she laughs, opening the door with a smile. “You’re way too sweet for your own good. It was nice seeing you though.” Her eyes slowly move over to your front door before looking back at him, head cocking to the side in a very clear indication that he better go over. He can only nod in understanding, waving her goodbye and shutting the door once she heads down to the elevator. 
The action sounds of the movie they were watching continues to fill his apartment, whatever chaos was going on only making his brain whirl so he’s quick to grab the remote and shut it off entirely. Now he’s just stuck in complete silence, wondering if he should quickly make his way over to yours or play it calm and collected. 
The total silence allows him to hear the muffled mumbling of a movie he knew all too well. It draws him in, lures him into his bedroom until he’s kneeling on the mattress with his ear pressed against the wall to properly make it out. You were watching the Notebook, at a concerning volume, which could mean a number of things. Jungkook knew none of them were good, usually rooted in issues you had with your ex, or a tough day at work, or any particular day where you just felt like crying. 
With a deep breath, he’s slowly knocking along his wall, almost experimentally, hoping it's enough to grab your attention through the current scene playing. For a second he thinks maybe you’ve fallen asleep while watching the film, but then the room falls silent as you pause it entirely. 
Your hearts racing now, ears straining to hear anything else and hoping this wasn’t how the beginning of the explicit noises would start, but then another knock comes from behind you. It makes you gasp, like you’ve just been caught being the nosey neighbor you are, hearing the soft scrape of his hand sliding down the wall. The ice cream gets put onto your nightstand as you sit up properly, forcing yourself out of the mountain of pillows you were practically suffocating in and turning around to knock back.
Jungkook’s palm presses back onto the wall, smiling at your response before fishing his phone out of his pocket. His fingers find your thread of messages, further down the list than he was used to, and as he opens them up and sees the string of unanswered texts dating back to two weeks ago, it stings just like it did before. He pushes his pride aside though, knowing you had wanted to talk today in person, so he proceeds to quadruple text you. 
Jungkook 8:44pm : are you seriously watching the notebook again?
You’re unlocking your phone the second it buzzes, smiling at the dimly lit screen before typing out a response. 
Y/N 8:45pm : shut up, it’s my comfort movie
Y/N 8:45pm : do you wanna watch it with me? for old times sake
The device is locked and placed face down onto your sheets the second you hit send, sinking into the pillows once again as you try not to scream at yourself because you know he’ll hear you. Why would you invite him over when he clearly has company? You had seen her with your own eyes, had seen how cute she is, had seen how cute Jungkook is, it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. 
Jungkook is quick though, texting back in agreement and heading over instantly. If you were watching your comfort movie then Jungkook wanted to make sure you were okay. Putting the past two weeks behind him, knowing you’d most likely have a good enough explanation—an explanation he would definitely be needing before the night was over—he’s knocking on your door before you can even check your messages. 
It takes you a minute to untangle your limbs from your covers as you hastily try to get to your door, sock clad feet sliding along your wooden floors when you finally yank the door open. Jungkook wears a soft smile as he stares down at you, taking note that you had switched your outfit to your usual sad movie binge attire of baggy shirt and lounge shorts. His eyes zero in on your lips when he notices there's something lingering at the corner of them. 
“So, are you gonna share whatever the hell that is?” His finger points at it smugly, laughing when your tongue peeks out to wipe it away. 
“It was actually meant to be for you.” Stepping aside, you let him enter your place. Jungkook almost feels a little strange being here after the weird few weeks, but he pushes it aside, just wanting things to feel normal. 
“Does that mean there’s no more left?” His eyes playfully narrow at you as you step closer, moving on to stare at the kitchen table, and the coffee table in search of the tub of ice cream that supposedly had his name on it. The earlier nerves you felt slowly fade away when you realize he’s not visibly upset about what happened, but it only makes your guilt deepen that despite your ability to be a crummy friend, Jungkook would still try his best to come through for you. 
“There’s about half of it left, it’s probably a little soft now though.” You side step him to enter the kitchen, grabbing an extra spoon and handing it over as a peace treaty, smiling when he gratefully accepts it. “C’mon, I paused the movie.”
Jungkook is not a stranger to your bedroom, especially when sappy movies were playing, finding his spot easily on the right side where he typically handed you tissues whenever you cried. The tissues were missing this time, in place of them being the bag of snacks you had bought, his ice cream on the other nightstand. 
“What part are you on?” he asks, settling onto the bed after fluffing up the pillows, waving his hands so you could pass the tub of ice cream his way. 
“It just started raining on the boat.” Jungkook hums, scooping out some of the chocolate ice cream and into his mouth. He knew this scene very well, and when you press play, he mentally repeats all of the lines. Just as Noah declares he wrote her 365 letters, you awkwardly clear your throat, your own spoon slowly sneaking over to his side to steal some ice cream for yourself. 
“I’m sorry if I made things awkward with your date.” Your voice sounds timid, something he’s not used to hearing from you at all, so he chuckles, laughing harder when you swat at his arm. “I’m serious, I should have texted you before just showing up.”
“Really? When have you ever done that before?” The two of you never notified the other when they wanted to show up, Jungkook had even given you the code to his place once when he was at work and you were desperate for some fruity pebbles—you used that code to your advantage and Jungkook never hated it. But all things considered, it's fair why you think you would have to give him a heads up. 
“You didn’t make it awkward though.” It’s not the complete truth, you coming over is what had made Aillie decide to leave, but Jungkook had to take most of the credit for it. “I kinda made it awkward from the beginning.”
“Why, what happened?”
“I went out last night with Jimin“ —you immediately hum in understanding, knowing very well how convincing Jimin could be with alcohol— “and apparently I texted her to hang out today, had no recollection, so when she showed up I was definitely not ready.”
“Damn, this is how I know you’re a better person than I am. If that happened to me, the second I checked my peephole and saw someone I didn’t remember inviting over, I’m gonna pretend I’m not home.”
“Yeah well, she lives like an hour away so I’d feel like an ass if I did that. Don’t think I’ll be talking to her again any time soon though.” He sighs in thought, gently tapping his spoon on the surface of the softening ice cream. There was one thing weighing heavy on his mind, needing to know what important thing you had to talk to him about, wondering if you were actually going to friendship dump him earlier and he had just made it worse by coming over and hanging out like old times. 
He doesn’t want to come right out and ask it though, not wanting to set himself up for an awkward conversation in case that wasn’t what you wanted to talk about, so he settles for something safe enough that would allow him to get a glimpse. 
“So how are things with Hoseok?” Yeah, that’s a good start. 
“Huh?” Your spoon freezes in its spot, face clearly looking confused in the dim glow of the television, the movie long forgotten now that you were speaking. 
“Tinder guy? Yellow sunglasses guy that gave you mono?” 
It suddenly clicks again, having forgotten all about Jung Hoseok the second you had gotten home from the failed date and came to terms with your feelings. Your lie of having a cold must have been believable enough for Jungkook to genuinely think he had given you something like mono. 
“He didn’t give me mono!” Jungkook rolls his eyes with a playful smile, humming along like he totally believes you. “But I didn’t tell you?”
He frowns as he stares at you, not entirely sure how to take your tone. “Tell me what? That you’re engaged and the wedding is in June?”
“No way,” you laugh, swatting his spoon away with a clank as you grab some ice cream before shoving it in your mouth, fighting against the brain freeze to continue speaking. “Our date was a bust.”
“How? Was it that bad?” He desperately wanted to know, having convinced himself the date had gone spectacularly well and you were now an exclusive item. The small twinge of guilt is felt when he realizes he’s a little too happy that the date had been a failure, but he allows himself to have this small, tiny victory. 
“Mm, it was so good it was bad.” He looks utterly confused, and you don’t blame him, so you elaborate. “He was this perfect gentleman who just wanted to play games, like to the point where he had a notebook where he was tallying our points, and then he walked me to my car and kissed my cheek goodbye.”
“Oh the horror!” Jungkook gasps, setting his spoon down to clutch his heart in dramatics. “How dare he try to romance you with a game night.”
“Jungkook, shut up!” you laugh, finally feeling like everything was right again, sitting in bed with your closest friend as you teased each other. “Look, I’ll give him some credit. The date was nice, he was not the sleazy douchebag his profile made him out to be, and I’m sure he’ll find the perfect girl for him on Tinder. But he clearly wanted something serious and—“
“And you don’t want that right now. It’s fair.” Of course you would turn him down, you had just decided to embark on this new adventure in the single world. It was kind of dumb for Jungkook to assume one date with Tinder Boy would be enough for you to give up your short lived dream. 
You take a steady breath at his words before taking another scoop of ice cream, lips wrapped around the spoon as you slowly pull it out of your mouth. The nerves are trickling back in, making your heart skip and your eyes bounce around. If you don’t come out and say it now, you know you never will. 
Your spoon joins his in the tub of ice cream before you decide to move it back to the nightstand, forcing yourself to look back at him, seeing him turned away as he rummages through the plastic bag full of snacks. “I don’t want that with him.”
Jungkook freezes, the rustling of plastic ceases as his hands come back to his sides and he turns back around. With him. He was the king of jumping to worse case scenarios so his brain has no issues coming to this very horrible conclusion. 
“Have you been talking to Hajoon again?”
“No, Jungkook I haven’t.”
“Are you sure? I’m saying this now, but if you get back with him I will not hesitate to pop him in the face if I run into him in the halls. It’s fair game out there, neutral territory for him to get his ass beat—“
“It’s you.”
His brain short circuits at that, mini versions of himself currently running around and screaming in his head as he tries to make sense of this. The first instinct he has is to crack a joke, to say that he hadn’t been talking to Hajoon again, and laugh it off. But you look a little too vulnerable right now, eyes nervously looking at him and then looking away at his lingering silence. 
“Wait, what?” It’s the only thing he can sputter out, caught off guard by your words, not wanting to say anything else in case the world was cruel enough for him to have completely misheard you. 
“I don’t want that with Tinder Boy or Hajoon, I want it with you.” It gets a little easier saying it a second time, but his reaction is hard to gauge. You had been expecting him to reciprocate the confession instantly, but the longer he looked shocked only made you think that you and Seulgi had been seriously wrong about his supposed crush. 
Jungkook is having a difficult time trying to go from you ghosting him to you suddenly admitting to liking him, the change in emotions not allowing him to say anything he had practiced in the mirror for so long. He can’t come out and give you a speech about how he thinks you’re the one, how you’re obviously a good match together, brain too focused on other details. “How long have you known this?”
“For the past two weeks, but deep down I know it’s been longer.”
His wide eyes glance over at you now, everything slowly clicking into place. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?”
“Yes,” you mumble, embarrassed over the way you had acted. The last time you had avoided someone was in elementary school, having a best friend go ask your crush if he likes you while you hid in the bathroom, scared of the answer. “I like you Jungkook and I knew I wouldn’t be able to play it cool. I was scared to say something and have you not feel the same and then have our friendship be weird.”
Jungkook smiles in that adorable way you love, nose scrunching up cutely as he leans closer, large palms coming to cup your cheeks. He has wanted to hear this for so long, and sure, maybe it wasn’t some super romantic confession over a candlelit dinner like he had occasionally dreamed of, but this felt right. 
“You’re so stupid,” he whispers out, thumb softly caressing your cheek as he chuckles, feeling the way your lips turn into a frown at his harmless insult. 
“Jungkook, I’m being serious,” you whine, heart still pounding in your chest. Your hands come up to gently wrap around his wrists, allowing him to continue to squish your cheeks with that endearing look on his face. 
“I’m being serious too Y/N. Did you really think I wouldn’t feel the same?” Jungkook did everything he did with you out of pure friendliness, never expecting to get something in return from it, but there was a small sprinkling of a crush in every one of his actions. “I like you too, and I have for a really long time.”
The relief you feel comes instantly, lips slowly pulling into a smile when you finally have the confidence to look directly into his eyes again. If this is how light you feel after the two weeks spent freaking out, you can only imagine how Jungkook feels. “Really?”
“Yes, really. Now, can I please kiss you?” You’re nodding the second the question leaves his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as his hands glide down to cup your jaw, soft lips slowly pressing against yours. It’s a gentle smack of skin as he pulls back, a smirk on his lips when he opens his eyes, softly rubbing his nose against yours. 
“Wait,” he breathes out, chuckling softly. “Is he still looking?” He has the nerve to repeat the same question that had been the root of your guilt, and when your eyes shoot open and glare at him, he can’t stop the laughter that bubbles out. 
“I hate you,” you mutter out, not an ounce of truth behind it. 
“Mm, no you don’t.” 
His lips find yours again, falling into a steady rhythm, softer and less rushed than the first kiss you had shared at the club. There’s no pounding bass in the background, or the taste of liquor on your lips, but Jungkook prefers it this way. He likes the low hum of the movie continuing to play in the background, the sweetness of the ice cream lingering on your lips when his tongue gently swipes at the seam of them, the way your hands slowly slide around his neck as he deepens each kiss. 
With each shared breath, you slide further down your bed, pulling Jungkook down with you until he’s hovering directly above you. His knees dig into the sheets, one hand pressed beside your head to keep himself stable as you urge him even closer to you. The delicate golden chain he wears kisses your skin, pendant settling onto your chest, the cool sensation is almost enough to distract you as his tongue slowly slips into your mouth. Jungkook groans when you let out a small gasp, your fingers slipping into his hair and tugging gently at the strands by the nape of his neck. 
He wants to remember this kiss instead of the one from the club, embed every gasp you let out into his brain, the way your chest pushes up to feel more of him, how your hands slide down his back, leaving a fiery trail in their path that makes Jungkook shiver. And when you slide your thighs further apart for him, innocently at first, he can’t help it when his lips freeze on yours as you slowly roll your hips upwards. It gives him the same automatic reaction he had gotten at the club, all the blood rushing to his cock instantly, except this time he doesn’t feel the shame he had felt before. There was no ulterior motive to what you were doing, sincerity shown in your confession, shared within each kiss, so Jungkook allows himself to bask in the want he feels for you.
“Y/N,” he groans out when you repeat the action, pulling away from your swollen lips to stare at you through hooded eyes. You’re licking your lips over as your eyes slowly open, a small glimmer evident in them as you tilt your head and pretend to not know what you’re doing.
“What?” you question, leaning up to kiss the edge of his mouth, giggling when he attempts to chase your lips as you pull back, choosing to kiss down his jaw instead. As your tongue gently trails along the side of his neck, you feel the harsh gulp he takes, his fingers bunching up in the sheets beside your head. His neck has always been a weak point for him, turning him into a puddle in seconds, you knew this from the unfiltered conversations you’ve had and it was something you were definitely going to be using to your advantage. 
“You’re doing this on purpose,” he grunts, eyes fluttering shut as you nip at his skin, a visible shiver racking through him. 
“Of course I am,” you hum, letting your hands roam his back, sliding around his front until you’re sneaking past the white fabric of his shirt. When your cool hands meet his skin, he tenses, the muscles on his stomach tightening up as your fingertips trail up his body. You’ve known Jungkook was well defined, lean and toned in all the best places, having seen him shirtless a few times. But being able to touch him like this, feel each stuttered breath and jump of his skin reacting to your touch fueled you. 
Jungkook knows you can feel the racing of his heart now, your palms flat on his chest, each thrum revealing his emotions despite the cool and calm exterior he was trying to have. His hips lower towards yours, resisting the urge to rut into you as you start to suck on his skin. The low hum you let out vibrates against his neck, mixed in with the feeling of your wet lips, and he knows he’s done for. The final blow comes in the form of you swiping your tongue at the blossomed hickey, sweet voice pulling him back to earth as you look at him once more. “I want you Jungkook.”
Oh god, he couldn’t do this. His face pulls into a grimace, begging himself to not instantly cum in his pants at what you just said. How many times has he fantasized about this? Hoped you’d beg him for anything in that same exact voice, dreamed of you kissing and sucking on his skin like you currently were. Jungkook isn’t sure any amount of mental preparation would be enough for this. 
“Say that again please.”
You giggle, finger pushing back a strand of his hair as it falls over his face, tucking it behind his ear. The normal doe eyed look you were accustomed to is nowhere to be found, pupils blown out in lust as he stares at you. Being on the receiving end of this stare fills your stomach with butterflies, the flapping of their wings intensifying as he nudges his nose into yours. 
“I want you.” It’s breathless, spoken so softly through the background noise like a personal secret just for him. Jungkook doesn’t think he’ll ever grow tired of hearing you say it, that much is proven true when you repeat it in between kisses, trailing back up his neck in the same path you had taken until you're speaking the words directly against his lips. He swallows them down greedily, groaning into your mouth when his tongue tangles with yours once more. 
“Fuck, you can have me baby.” He chuckles against your mouth when you start to tug at his shirt, yanking the thin material until he has to pull back and slip the tee off himself. The balled fabric gets tossed aside without a care, dark swirls of ink on his arm fully revealed now, each tattoo reminding you of how long you’ve known him, remembering the two pieces that he had when you first met. When he leans back over you, taking his time trailing kisses down your neck, onto your chest until his own hands are slowly tugging your shirt off of you, you decide there’s other things to focus on besides his glorious tattoos.
“Ah, Jungkook,” you sigh, fingers tangling into his hair when he kisses the swells of your breast, warm tongue sliding over your nipple before his lips are wrapping around it. His large palm gropes the other, thumb flicking over the pebbled bud, smirking when you push your chest further out for him.
“What baby?” He pulls back to blow a gust of cool air on your nipple, the wetness of his saliva making your skin break out into goosebumps. 
“No teasing.”
Jungkook’s laughing now, eyes peering up at you through his lashes. “Oh, you think I’m not gonna tease you after what you did?” He tsks in disapproval as he continues to kiss down your torso, letting his hands trail down your sides, not stopping until he reaches the hem of your shorts. A kiss is placed above your navel as he pulls the shorts down your legs, toying with the waistband of your black underwear. “I’m gonna take my time with you.”
The build up before pleasure will always be your favorite part. The way his hands grip your thighs after tugging your underwear off, fingertips trailing up until his palm is pressing them further apart. It’s impossible to look at him now, the visual of his long hair framing his face as he starts to press wet kisses on your skin is too much to handle. You can feel the warm huff of air when he laughs as your head drops back onto the pillow once more, eyes slipping shut while you wait with anticipation. 
Jungkook wants to comment over how wet you are already, boost his own ego about being able to rile you up with just kissing, but he can see the way you’re already on edge, and he decides he can tease you some more later with what he has in store. Instead, he gives you what you’re mentally pleading him for. Finally pressing his soft lips to your folds, the short gasp you release as his tongue glides up before gently flicking across your clit has him shutting his own eyes, reveling in the way you react to his touch. 
His long fingers spread out your folds before he’s messily spitting onto them, watching the way the glob of saliva trickles down before he’s diving in, falling into the perfect pace with ease. It has your hips rutting up instantly, your hand uncurling its grip from your sheets to travel down your body and find its place tangled in his hair. Jungkook groans against your clit when your fingers grip tightly, yanking the dark strands as the prettiest moan flows out of you. 
“J-just like that, fuck,” you whimper, finally lifting your head up to stare down at him when he latches his lips around your clit and sucks. It sends a spark down your spine, stomach tensing at his rhythm, fully intent to have you fall apart. 
Jungkook wants to push you over the edge, knows he’s talented enough to get you there in record time—he was cocky in the best way—and the way your thighs tremble as he slowly sinks his finger into you proves his point. The slick coating your entrance allows a second finger to slip through with little resistance, a shuddering breath filling the air as he begins to spread his fingers apart, stretching you out in the most delicious way. 
It’s not until his fingers curl up, rubbing along the sweet patch inside of you and you moan out his name, that he realizes he has you right where he wants you. He can’t get himself to look up at you, to see the way your jaw drops as you plead for more. Jungkook knows if his eyes lock with yours too soon he’ll be too weak to be as cruel as he wants to be. 
The pleasure blooms inside you, hips rolling up into his in a way he welcomes, smirk spreading onto his lips when your moans get breathier. He eats you out with determination set in his brows, not satisfied until you’re tightening around his fingers, thighs threatening to close in on either side of his head. The messy way he slurps against you sends you reeling, rutting up into him with need, the wet thump of his fingers blending in with your moans of his name. 
“God, Jungkook, I’m gonna cum.” He believes you, eyes finally opening up to stare at you. The visual is enough to make his cock throb in his pants, your glassy eyed stare locked onto his, chest rising and falling in time with each choked breath. When he playfully winks at you, your walls pulse around him, seconds away from being pushed over the edge, and that’s when he pulls away. 
The warm glow of your orgasm approaching, just about to crest, gets ripped away from you instantly. It makes you gasp, thighs twitching as your hips attempt to push up back towards his mouth, but he’s having none of that. His shiny lips smile up at you innocently, head tilted to slowly kiss your trembling thighs, chuckling at the small cry of frustration you let out. 
“You taste good baby,” he hums, smooching the skin at the juncture of your thighs, circling around your clit without relieving the pressure you felt. The dull ache has your fingers releasing his hair in defeat, a frown etched onto your lips. 
“Jungkook, that’s mean,” you pant, sitting up and resting on your elbows to properly stare at him. 
“A little, but you deserved it don’t you think?” Jungkook didn’t want to tease you too much, he just wanted to get even for the past two weeks. “You could have had me between your thighs every single night if you would’ve said something soon, so I think you can be patient.”
A firm kiss is pressed to your swollen clit and it makes your whole body shudder, your head dropping back as you take a deep breath to control yourself. “I can’t be patient Kook,” you whine, head leveling back out to give him the most convincing stare you can muster. There's that crease between your brows that he likes when you pinch them together, hands gently raking through his hair, teeth pillowing out your lower lip as you bite down onto it. 
“Please, you can torture me later if you want but not now.” Your words have him cocking up his brow, hands once again gripping the meat of your thighs before he crawls back up your body. The feeling of his chain dragging up your skin has you shivering, breath catching in your throat when he hovers inches above you once more. 
“I’ll hold you to that,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before his hand slips between your thighs again. A groan reaches his ears as his fingers circle your clit, covered in your arousal and his saliva, gliding with ease as he works you back to your ruined orgasm. 
His lips find yours, swallowing down the moan you let out when he quickens his pace. You can taste yourself on his tongue, tangling with yours with more urgency than before, messy and desperate in a way that had more arousal gushing out of you. The earlier pleasure reignites inside you, your hands sliding around his neck to keep him close, kissing him with fervor, quiet moans and whimpers slipping past between each smack of your lips. 
“Jungkook,” you barely manage to squeal, a few more flicks needed to finally push you over the edge. Your lips are slick with spit as you pull back, jaw slack as you lose yourself in the feeling, and Jungkook easily bookmarks this into his brain to go back to and daydream of whenever he’s bored at work. Your eyes are squeezed shut as the feeling flows through you, not able to see how Jungkook stares at you in awe. 
“Holy shit,” he whispers, slowly pulling his hand away when you keen at the sensitivity, thighs twitching on the sheets as the pleasure rolls through you in waves. You’re looking up just in time to see him slip his messy fingers into his mouth, tongue licking them clean and savoring the taste of you. Just as he slides them back out, your fingers wrap around his wrist and lead them directly into your mouth, sinking onto them with your eyes locked on his own. 
Jungkook’s cock jumps in its confines when you suck, tip of your tongue circling his fingertips before popping them back out with a smirk. There’s a brief moment of shock on his features before he’s jumping into action, quickly unbuttoning his jeans in haste that left you giggling on your sheets. 
“What happened to patience?” you tease, laughing harder when he pauses with one foot stuck in the hole of his jeans, a playful glare thrown your way. 
“Oh, now you want patience?” He kicks his pants the rest of the way off, slowly shuffling towards you as he stands beside the bed in just his boxers. Your hands make grabby motions for him, reaching for the waistband of his underwear to tug them down, licking your lips over as his cock springs out. It bobs in the air for a second, thick and heavy, precum collecting at the tip with the prettiest veins on the underside of it. Of course Jungkook and his pretty privilege would have a dick worthy of leaving you speechless. 
Jungkook allows you to ogle at him, confidently wrapping his palm around the base of his cock, hissing slightly at the sensation as he looks down at it, allowing spit to accumulate behind his lips before a string of it escapes and lands right onto his length to help the glide of his palm. Your eyes widen at the sight, hand replacing his as he guides your motions, giving an experimental squeeze and enjoying how his abs tense up. 
“I’ve been patient for a long time Y/N. You said you want me right?” You’re nodding instantly, eyes looking away from his shiny length to stare up at him. “How do you want me?”
“Jungkook, just get over here.” He doesn’t resist when you let go of his cock, hands gripping his arm to yank him back onto the bed in a clumsy heap. His legs are a tangled mess, nearly ramming his forehead with yours from the force, shared laughter filling the air as you situate yourself. Jungkook had pictured this a thousand times and this is exactly how he imagined it, full of soft kisses, hushed laughter and goofy smiles, playfulness mixed in with lust all coming together perfectly to make the two of you. 
As he settles between your thighs, your sodden folds inches from his length, you can see the look on his face as his eyes glance in between both of your nightstands. Already knowing the question that was about to spill out, you beat him to the punch. “You don’t need one, if you don’t want to. I’m on birth control, and haven’t been with anyone since…” you trail off, not needing to specify.
Jungkook tries not to look too excited, really, but it’s hard. Every one of his lewd fantasies had involved being able to feel you entirely, and if your thoughts from that night were anything to go by, you definitely want the same. It takes him a second to speak, having to swallow properly to prevent himself from choking on his saliva and embarrassing himself in front of you. “I’m clean, I promise.”
“I trust you,” you smile, biting down onto your bottom lip as he fists his cock, slowly leading it to your dripping center. His free hand rests on your inner thigh, softly palming the skin as the head of his cock nudges against your entrance, pushing past the tight ring of muscles and into your heat. With his gaze locked down to where you connect, he sees inch by inch sink into you, finally bottoming out with a shared gasp.
Jungkook leans over you properly now, hand sliding up to lace with yours as the other rests beside your head, just taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of your velvety walls wrapped tightly around his cock. You welcome the stretch, the curve of his length inside you, how he cages you in with his body, eyes full of want staring directly at you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze because he knows he can’t properly form a sentence right now. 
“Fuck me, please.” With his hips pressed flush against yours, he’s slowly inching back, letting you get used to his size with each thrust. It doesn’t take long before he’s rearing back entirely, thrusting forward with a wet squelch, corner of his lips curling up into a smirk when you moan out his name. Your hand curls around his shoulder, fingers digging into his back to keep yourself steady from the force of his hips. 
Each time the head of his cock would nudge against your bundle of nerves, your nails would sink into his skin, leaving half moon indents that left him groaning in pleasure. Jungkook hadn’t outright told you, but it had become increasingly obvious that he has a slight kink for pain, practically mewling above you as you scratch his back, fucking you with more determination than before. 
“You feel so good,” he rasps, slotting his lips with yours in a messy kiss. The back of your headboard starts to rattle against the wall, bouncing back in time with his hips, and it brings you back to the filthy thoughts you had before. How often you’d hear the same sounds on the opposite side, mixing in with the sharpness of skin connecting together, and you want it. So badly.
“J-jungkook,” you breathe out, letting him pepper more kisses onto you, hips never slowing down. “Can you do something for me?” The tone you use, coated in sugar so sweet he couldn’t say no even if he wanted to.
“Anything.”
It’s hard to concentrate on anything else while his cock continues to fuck into you, turning your mind into mush each time he sunk all the way in. He can see the way you try to focus, eyes falling shut with the cutest pout on your kiss swollen lips, finally grabbing onto the reigns of your mind as you spit it out. “Wanna feel you—fuck—spank me, please.”
Only then do his hips slow down, cock throbbing inside of you, fighting the urge to cum before fulfilling your request. The only confirmation that he was agreeing, wholeheartedly, comes when he pulls out of you, moving too quickly for you to protest at the loss of contact. The room spins for a second as his hands grip onto your hips and flip you over with ease, palms gripping the globes of your ass and softly patting them with a chuckle.
“Of course baby,” he murmurs, hooking his arm underneath your stomach to haul you up onto your knees, allowing you to steady yourself before he’s sliding into you once again. The change in position has you keening, his cock sinking deeper than before, the wetness dripping out of you helping him maintain the earlier pace he had. Your hands fist the sheets beneath you, back arching in ecstasy as he hits your g-spot with precision, a tiny shriek of his name making him smile.
Jungkook keeps you on edge, strong hands gripping the skin of your hips tightly, mouth dropping open while he pants at the way you pulse around his cock, leaving it coated in your slick. His hand slides down to your ass, a gentle touch being your only warning before he’s pulling his hand back and delivering a swift slap to your skin. Your reaction is immediate, an unrestrained moan sounding like music to his ears. The sharp sting spreads directly to your core, your head bowing forward as you mentally beg him for more, your wish being granted seconds later when he repeats it on the other side.
If the wet sounds of his cock fucking you weren’t filthy enough, the added slap of his palm across your ass definitely topped it off. Jungkook had never seen you so needy, thighs coated in your arousal, gushing around him each time he spanked you until you were creaming his cock. The greedy way your walls suck him in, wanting him closer, deeper than ever, left him mesmerized. 
His hand soothes the dull throb on your skin, a trembling breath reaching his ears as he leans over your back, lips kissing up your spine up until reaching your shoulder. Hot pants of breath hit your skin, making you shiver as his lips trail along the edge of your ear. “Feel good?”
“Y-yes,” you mewl, voice trembling from the pleasure, rutting your hips in time with his. 
Jungkook’s way of love was a breath of fresh air for you, rough enough to exhilarate you, the force of his hips leaving you scrambling for purchase to prevent you from face planting onto the sheets, gripping onto your hair and tugging it back with enough force to make your body tingle. But it was intertwined with adoration, sweet praise whispered into your ear, lacing his fingers with yours to let you feel secure.
“You’re never getting rid of me baby,” he groans out. The low rasp in his voice makes you tremble, neck straining from his grip in your hair but the burn feels too good to pull away. His small confession has your heart skipping, eyes slipping shut to bask in the overwhelming feeling surrounding you.
“Good,” you manage to pant, “would never dream of it.” After four years of friendship, the beginning stages of getting to know each other, figuring out the right ways to flow with your different personalities, it's all out of the way now, so it’s incredibly easy for you to picture a steady future with him. The breakfast gossiping, shameless club outings, chaotic game nights with snacks thrown at each other, you want everything you already have with him and more. What you have, so rooted in sincerity, built off mutual respect for each other, blossoming into love so pure, you can’t imagine having this with anyone else.
“Y/N,” he gasps, the pulsing of your walls bringing him closer to his climax. “I’m close.”
You can only hum in agreement, burying your face into your pillow when he releases the grip he has in your hair, nipples rubbing against the sheets in time with his thrusts, the sensitivity sending sparks throughout you. Both his hands grip your hips again, dimpling the skin as he quickens his pace, the tantalizing roll of his hips intent to send you over before him. His eyes trail over the curve of your back, how you arch it further to feel more of him, sliding down to your ass, seeing the way it bounces back with each snap of his hips, how you weakly rut back onto him, pussy clamping around his length as your orgasm approached. 
Jungkook slides his hand around you, trailing across your tummy before slipping between your thighs to the spot you needed him most. Even with your face buried in the sheets, the moan you let out is loud enough for Jungkook to hear perfectly, body shuddering as he flicks across your clit in tight circles.  
“Kook, I’m cumming—fuck,” you shout out, white heat enveloping your body as you get sent over the edge. Your mind blanks for a minute, the intensity of your orgasm crashing over you so suddenly, making your limbs tense up while every nerve ending lights up. The only thing you can think of is him, chanting out your name while you pulse around him, sweet words coaxing you through your high, thumb rubbing along the skin of your hips as he never slows his pace. 
As he fucks you through it, groaning out at how tight your walls are around him, you have to turn your head to gasp in a breath, face feeling hot from it all. You can feel how sweaty your skin has become, the back of your neck feeling sticky as your turn to get a glimpse of him, body still shuddering from the aftershocks. 
Jungkook doesn’t have a care for his own volume now, moaning unabashedly as he pistons his hips into you with less grace than before. The soft mewls of overstimulation you let out just bring him closer to his release, thrusts getting sloppier as the pleasure takes over him. 
“Fuck, baby-” he grunts out, mouth dropping open as he moans even louder, finally falling apart. He pushes further into you, head falling forward as his hips press flushed against your ass, warm spurts of his cum filling you up in a way that fulfills your dirtiest fantasies. A few more shallow thrusts has the two of you gasping, hearts pounding in your chests, coming down slowly as he finally stills.
A serene silence falls over you, the movie long turned off in the background, only the low glow of the television letting you know it was still on. With great hesitation, Jungkook finally pulls out of you, gulping when he sees the thick globs of cum spill from your core, dripping down your thighs before landing on the sheets in a sinful mess. Your sheets are well and truly ruined, Jungkook would honestly suggest tossing them in the trash judging by the damp spot directly beneath you.
With a small groan, you’re flopping fully onto your stomach, thighs no longer able to keep yourself up, the exhaustion creeping up on you. Jungkook chuckles when he hears you, soothing your back with a gentle massage. “You’re not sleeping in here babe.”
“Why not,” you slur, cheek pressed against your pillow, eyes already shut. All you wanted to do was lay here, preferably with his arms wrapped around you, but Jungkook clearly has other plans. 
“Because it’s disgusting,” he laughs, giving you a few more seconds of rest before he’s moving around. The dip in the bed lets you know he’s gotten off, one eye peeking open to search for him, seeing him gathering his belongings from the floor.
“Where are you going?”
He shimmies back into his clothes with a grimace, gathering your own items before approaching you once more. “We are going next door and sleeping in my totally clean bed, c’mon.”
You only put up a fight for a second, secretly enjoying the way he helps you get dressed in your earlier clothes, heart swelling in your chest at how domestic it all feels. The mess in your room would have to be dealt with another day, the only important item being the ice cream that finds its way back into the freezer as you both head out of your apartment and swiftly enter his next door.
He’s just as delicate and careful in the shower, taking turns cleaning each other, large hands gripping your ass and giggling like a child when you wince at the small throb of pain you feel. Soft kisses are shared under the showerhead, warm water soothing your body as the room fogs up, sweet confessions scribbled on the glass in his messy writing, topped off with a heart. Jungkook stops you before you can wipe it away, shyly telling you that he’d like to see it reappear the next time he showers.
His bedroom was one you weren’t too familiar with, used to lounging in his living room the most, so as he settles into his bed after getting cozy in his pajamas, you wait for him to call you over before joining him. The coolness of his sheets has you sighing, snuggling into his side with a smile on your lips, one that Jungkook sees as he stares down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Seeing you draped in his clothes, cuddled up beside him in a way you’ve never done before, makes him feel like a giddy teenager. 
“Can I be honest?” he wonders, arm wrapping around you to pull you even closer to him. When you hum in confirmation, he laughs sheepishly. “I thought you were going to friendship dump me today.”
“What, why?”
Your head bobs up as he shrugs his shoulders. “The way you were acting reminded me of the last time you told me you wanted to focus on your relationship. I was just scared I was going to lose you again.”
The tone he uses makes your heart ache, the same guilt you felt these past few days coming back when you put yourself in his shoes. You had no idea that the way you were acting would affect him this way, never once imagining that he thought you would cut off this friendship while you were just coming to terms with the fact that you harbored strong feelings for him. 
“Jungkook, I’m sorry,” you sigh, palm resting on his chest, feeling each beat of his heart, no longer racing like before, confident and steady in it’s pace because he knows you’re not going anywhere. “I’m stupid, and freaked out after what I did, and just needed to gather my thoughts before saying anything.”
He cranes his head away from you, a confused look on his face. “After what you did? What did you do?”
Fuck.
“Uhm,” you start with a strained laugh, refusing to look up at him out of embarrassment, but the truth has to come out so you power through it.  “So, the night of the date, I sort of got home earlier than I told you I did.”
His eyes narrow at you, refusing to give anything away before he knew where this was going. “Okay, go on.”
“And I sort of heard you through the walls.” You look up at him now, your guilty stare spelling it out for him. His eyes widen before he can conceal his surprise, cheeks warming up instantly because oh boy, he knew exactly where this was going. “And then, I sort of...joined.”
“You lied to me!” he shouts, shocked smile on his face as he recalls the way you had replied to his texts, telling him you had just gotten home and going the extra mile to say you were in a totally different room when in reality, you were sprawled out in your bed after just getting off to the sound of him.
Filthy. And also kind of hot. Jungkook was definitely into that, something he’ll totally proposition you into doing again because why not.  
“I know! I couldn’t help it, it was so hot, and I felt so guilty. But, you’re technically the reason why my orgasm gave me my epiphany and let me realize I really do like you. So, I think I did us both a favor by being a dirty liar.” He’s laughing instantly, fingers gripping your cheeks to turn your head up, planting a firm kiss onto your lips obnoxiously.
“Alright, you’re forgiven. Plus, consider us even because I have definitely heard you getting off on your own plenty of times too.” A squeal of surprise fills the air as you swat at his chest, burying your face into his shirt and feeling the rumble of his laughter. It really wasn’t ever intentional. The walls are thin, you weren’t exactly quiet, and he couldn’t just lay there and ignore it. So call him an opportunist, or a pervert, because you were one too. 
Jungkook is cheeky though, knowing how to get under your skin in the best way, and you can already tell you’re in for a ride when he gets close to your ear and whispers, “You wanna show me how you did it?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you snort, peering up at him with mischief in your eyes.
“You did say I could torture you later.” He smiles innocently, fingers pinching your chin as he kisses you again. “It’s later.”
The sweet laughter that escapes you makes his heart skip a beat, still not able to come to terms that this was happening and wasn’t some dream of his that he’d wake up from. He kisses the tops of your cheeks first, then your nose, before reaching your lips, his hand gently caressing your skin. Jungkook had no intention of torturing you tonight, knowing how tired you typically were after work on a normal day, and after drawing two orgasms out of you that left you shaking, he knows how close you are to sleep with the way your eyes droop. 
“Aren’t you glad you didn’t give up on crushes and love?” he mumbles against your lips, inching back to stare down at you. 
“I’m glad I stopped looking for it in the wrong places.” Your hands wrap around his neck, toying with his hair before pulling him back to you, reattaching your lips because you just couldn’t seem to get enough of him. 
Every single moment you shared, from moving in and awkwardly trying to get to know each other, the ups and downs of failed relationships, the push that started it all at the club, and every almost moment in between brought you full circle to right now. There probably won’t be a moment where you don’t wish you had done this sooner, worked past your worry of ruining a good friendship in fear of what could happen, but the past helped mold you into who you are, strengthening your relationship to be the way it is now.
Right now had you thinking of the future, and there was nothing more exciting than that.
3K notes · View notes
shurisneakers · 4 years
Text
harmless (i)
Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)
Warnings: cursing, nonsense writing
Word count: 1.5k 
A/N: listen i just needed something to keep my mind busy and a perry the platypus!bucky and dr. doofenshmirtz!reader was the only thing i could think of. dont have any high expectations from this series, you will be sorely disappointed.
If you have any ideas for this series, lemme know!! it’d be cute to write!!
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333
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Series Masterlist
Bucky Barnes, for all intents and purposes, is edgy. 
His SHIELD salary is definitely enough to afford him a simple beanie, gloves even if he’s that eager. His long hair, though a spectacle in itself, isn’t as good at keeping away the cold as he claims it to be. 
It’s a personal choice, a fashion statement even, to be roaming the streets in a long flimsy t-shirt that does nothing to accentuate his broad shoulders, and tactical pants that look a little too comfortable. 
It’s cold. He says he likes it, to appease his blond haired best friend who insisted that he wear a cardigan at least. He won’t like it in a while, but he would never admit it.
The bike ride to the other side of town for a minor mission takes longer than he expected. The wind rushing by gets his adrenaline racing. 
Official missions are long and gruelling, and oftentimes not fun. But it gives him a purpose.
It’s easy, therefore, to find him brooding when he’s not on one. 
No one wants their room to be on the receiving end of Bucky’s stress-cleaning sessions. His baking is more appreciated.
So when there’s news of a small time villain creating havoc again, it made sense that he volunteered to go sort it out. No one else wanted the job. They’d all been at it before. 
SHIELD didn’t seem particularly bothered either. 
“It’s not that serious, Barnes.”
“I’m going.”
“Just stop her from doing whatever dumb plan she has today. She seems to have a new one every week.”
“Can I-”
“This is not an assassination mission.”
“Fine. Can I-”
“No.”
“Fine.”
He didn’t know what to expect. He had an idea of how they should be. Smaller villains tended to be more aggressive, vicious to prove their point. They were here to stay.
He wears his regular gear. Enough knives to make a butcher look away in shame, and guns including, but not limited to, his biceps.
He finally pulls the bike to a stop a few metres away, leaving it out of reach in case things got too out of hand. He didn’t want to have to walk back to the Tower, and his friends, as much as they loved him, would never go out of their way to pick him up. Little shits. 
The address is a dingy, plain concrete house near an old construction site. It was flat and felt more like an afterthought than an actual building. It looked more like an abandoned Walmart than an actual villain lair. 
The only entrance is the door in the front. He counts to three, lifting his leg to kick it down.
It falls down ungracefully, loud and creaky like it was bound to the doorframe by rust. 
The only light source inside is a green light. All the way at the other end on an elevated platform is a desk and a chair facing away from him. He can’t see much other than that.
Someone’s laughter comes back loud and booming. He raises his gun, feet apart in a defensive stance. 
“I’ve been expecti-” the voice pauses mid-sentence- “Did you just kick down my door?”
He looks behind him to where the wooden piece is on the floor. He certainly did.
He can finally see you as you stand up, green light illuminating your face. You reach over to the side, pressing a few switches. 
He squints when all the lights turn on, pulling the both of you from darkness. 
“Dude!” you cry out, face twisting into what only could be described as a mix of horror and disdain. “What’d you do that for?”
He doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t lower his gun either.
“You’re an Avenger, just fuckin’ pick the lock or something. This is expensive!” 
He only watches as you whine, looking beyond him at your now demolished entrance. You take a few steps closer, jumping down from the elevated platform.
“Insurance isn’t going to cover this.” You drag your palm across your fist before extending it towards him. “Pay up.”
He wasn’t sure if he heard you right.
“What?” he finally asked, voice gruff.
“All you superheroes go around, destroying walls and cars in the name of world peace like you own the damn thing. Not today, bitch boy. Pay up.”
He doesn’t have his wallet with him. He didn’t expect to need it.
“I’m supposed to be stopping you.” 
“You can do that once you pay for my door.” 
You sound resolute, unshaken. A little annoyed. There’s what appears to be a gun in your hand, although it’s unlike any weapon he’s seen before.
“What’s your plan?” Bucky looks at your hand. Your stare follows his. You lift the thing up and he tenses.
“I was going to freeze some jerk but now my plan is to get you cancelled on Twitter.” 
“Why?” his eyebrows knit together in confusion.
“Local superhero destroys property of tax paying citizen for no good reason.”
“I mean-” he shakes his head, discarding what you’re saying, “-why were you going to freeze someone?”
“Because I wanted to. But you’ve ruined the mood now, so that won’t happen.”
He blinks, lowering his weapon when he realises you weren’t making any attempt to move. “What’s your ulterior motive?”
“Nothing! I just wanted to mildly inconvenience that stupid fuck for being such a prick.”
He doesn’t know what to say. 
“Is that the freeze ray?” Bucky asks instead, raising his gun when he realises there’s a very real chance he could end up like his best friend. 
“You got a problem with it?” You hold it up carelessly. 
“I can’t let you use that.”
“That’s all you’re going to do?” you huff, “Is this what you call an intervention? This is so boring.”
“Give me the freeze ray and no one has to get hurt.” 
“No one was going to get hurt in the first place, genius. All this does is slow him down for 5 minutes so he misses the subway.”
There’s nothing technically that evil about what you’re doing. He doesn’t even know how you ended up on SHIELD’s radar. He gets why no one was particularly driven to take this seriously.
“And for fuck’s sake put that gun away. You’re not scaring me.” 
He doesn’t oblige, even though something tugs at him, telling him that you’re speaking the truth. 
“Here, take the stupid thing.” You don’t bother waiting for his response, bending over and sliding the gun towards his feet. “I’ll find another way to get back at that dickhead.”
It hits his boot with a small thud. He looks down. Its design is ridiculously comical, like you ripped it straight out of a kid’s TV show. 
“Next time, bring some drama. Wear a cape or something.” You wave him off. “Now get out of my lair. I need to fix the door.”
“You don’t have another one of these lying around, do you?”
“Why, do your friends want one too?” The glare you give him is dangerous. He doesn’t react to it. “No, it’s limited edition. I don’t build the same thing twice.”
“You have others?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?” A smile grows on your face, dropping as quickly as it arrives. “SHIELD will tell you if I do. Now leave.”
Bucky looks at the freeze ray in his hand. He supposes his job is done. He was told to stop you, but you didn’t seem to have any inclination to go on with your plan.
“You can ask them if you want, they know about me.” You roll your eyes. “Go ahead, call them.”
He doesn’t want to take a chance. As odd as the situation is, it’s still novel and he isn’t quite sure how to deal with it.
He tucks your weapon under his arm, pressing his phone to his ear.
“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” Maria’s voice is crisp as ever.
“I confiscated a... freeze ray.” He feels ridiculous even saying it. “But I’m going to bring her in to SHIELD headquarter-”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“But we can’t trust-”
“We’ve been keeping tabs on her for a while. She’s more or less harmless. You can take the rest of the night off, Sergeant.”
He cuts the call, not entirely at ease with the smug, expectant look on your face. 
Still, he couldn’t disobey direct orders.
“I’m gonna... go.” He mentions towards the gaping hole in the wall.
“That would be ideal, yes.” You nod, crossing your arm over your chest.
“Okay.” He hesitates, but finally takes a step backwards. He peeks over his shoulder as he leaves, but finds you swivelled away from him again. 
He steps back outside. The cold greets him again like an old friend. The weight of his weapons feels stupidly embarrassing now. 
It’s a long drive back to the Tower. He keeps replaying the entire story in his mind. He’s unsure of whether he made the right call, but no one else really seemed to care. 
He had seen weirder things. It came with the gig.
He leaves it at that.
“How’d it go?” Steve asks him when he walks into the living room.
“T’was fine,” he answers, toying with the stupid device he took from you. Maybe he would test it on Clint. He had been getting annoying lately. Breathing too much in Bucky’s general direction.
A part of him feels guilty for his carelessness towards your building. The other part is just bewildered. 
That night he looks up the cost it takes to replace a door, making a mental note to draw some money from the ATM soon.
Next part
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kanansdume · 2 years
Text
I think my favorite part of having a show about a character like Cassian Andor is that it allows for the characters to all be so morally gray, so interesting.
Star Wars as a concept, as a world, is pretty black and white generally. A character is usually good right up until they're not. Or the opposite.
Until Cassian. Cassian Andor was a character introduced to us as a rebel spy, something that immediately labels him The Good Guy, until he kills an innocent informant because the guy can't escape and Cassian can't afford for him to get caught by the Empire and tortured into revealing information. So he murders him. In the name of the Rebellion.
And while Cassian clearly isn't HAPPY about it and is super conflicted about it, he doesn't entirely regret what he's done. He believes in his cause, he has to. Even by the end, he refuses to just walk away from trying to get the Death Star plans on Scarif because if the Rebellion falls apart and the Empire wins, those sacrifices he made, the choices he made that weren't so righteous, were all for nothing. He's been able to keep going because he tells himself that everything he's doing is to defeat the Empire, that the end justifies the means. He CAN'T stop now.
And it's that drive, that refusal to give up, that sacrifice, that ultimately gets the Death Star plans into Leia's hands.
So writing an entire show around a character like this, who does things that are pretty unequivocally Wrong, but who is fighting for the side that in Star Wars is always unequivocally Right? It means nearly everyone AROUND Cassian can be equally as complex, equally as complicated. None of them are going to be entirely unequivocally good or bad unless they're in the Empire probably.
Maarva, who absolutely kidnaps Cassian from his home planet, but does so because she believes she's saving his life and who Cassian clearly still cares about and respects as an adult all these years later.
Bix, who lies to her boyfriend and takes risks for Cassian, but who clearly cares so much about people.
People are complicated. People make dumb decisions. People do the right thing for the wrong reasons and the wrong thing for the right reasons.
And Cassian just happens to be a character who really exemplifies that and I love that it seems like he's opening the door to allow for a show with characters to be just that bit more nuanced and messy and relatable, even when they fuck up.
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itsallyscorner · 3 years
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Teaming Up with Sam and Bucky ft Zemo
Pairing: FEM!Reader; Bucky Barnes x reader, Sam Wilson x reader; platonic(?), let’s throw in some Zemo x reader
Summary: What it would be like to team up with our favorite duo. Takes place during TFATWS.
Warnings: none, TFATWS SPOILERS. Lowkey a mess :D
A/n: Ever since TFATWS came out I’ve been reminded of how much I love Bucky and Sam. Also I have a new found love for Zemo. I’ve just been so obsessed with this series and I’ve been reading so many fics about it, so I decided to finally write my own :) Enjoy my loves❤️
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
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✧───── ・ 。゚★: *. ☽.* :★. ─────✧
You’re basically working with a bunch of children.
The children mostly being Sam and Bucky, though Zemo does have his moments once he joins you three.
You’ve known dumb and dumber for a few years now, being part of the Avengers, you’ve worked with Sam on multiple missions. The friendship blooming somewhere in between.
You were also close friends with Steve; when he first came out the ice, you were assigned to help him adjust to the modern world by Fury. He would tell you a bunch of stories of him and Bucky running into trouble or Bucky always saving his ass whenever he was getting beaten up.
Eventually, you finally got to meet Bucky, though he wasn’t Bucky, he was the Winter Soldier. Your introduction to each other was quite memorable to say the least.
He choked you with that metal arm of his and for a split second you swore you might’ve found it attractive—till he threw your body against a car.
You sided with Cap during the accords and helped him protect Bucky. When that whole mess was over, Steve asked you to stay with Bucky in Wakanda to make sure he would be safe.
You were the first person to have some kind of bond with Bucky. Before and after he was freed from Hydra’s hold on him, you were always someone he knew he could trust.
When Steve told you what he was going to do while retuning the stones he told you to watch over them.
“Promise me you’ll keep an eye on Buck and Sam?” He asked you, sitting on the edge of your bed. He had snuck into your room late at night, knowing you were wide awake.
You squeezed his hand reassuringly, a lazy smile on your lips, “They don’t need me, I’m sure they’re capable of surviving on their own.” Steve breathes out a laugh and shakes his head, “You’d be surprised.”
“But seriously, (y/n), they need you. You know how they get when they’re together. You’re the only person in the world who knows how to deal with the both of them at the same time.” Steve reasons, his baby blues sparkling in the darkness of the guest room of Tony’s lake house.
“Make sure they’re not on the verge of killing each other or running into too much trouble?” You tiredly nod, sleep slowly consuming your body. “I promise, they’re gonna be alright, Steve.”
Sometimes you found yourself looking up at the sky, cursing at it—or Steve—for leaving you with two of the most childish and stubborn men you’ve ever known in your life.
You were like the mother of the group; breaking up fights, making sure they skipped no meals, patching up their boo-boos, etc.
“Will you stop staring at me?” Sam snapped, tossing his goggles onto the seat beside him to glare at Bucky.
“I’m not staring at you.” Bucky remarked from across Sam. His flesh and metal arm crossing with each other as he stared at Sam challengingly.
“Yes, you are. Your eyes are connecting with mine. You’re literally staring at me right now!” Sam pointed out, to which Bucky rolled his eyes at.
“Because I’m talking to you, genius. I wasn’t staring at you.” Bucky quipped.
“Yes you were!”
“No I wasn’t!”
This continued till they were sick of bickering with each other, finally yelling out your name for help.
The arguments were straight up petty. Bucky wouldn’t admit it, but he was the pettiest.
Exhibit 1: “LoOKiNG StrONg jOHn!”
Like seriously? Bucky’s the pettiest bitch, nobody can tell me otherwise.
You and Sam would definitely find it amusing how Bucky doesn’t trust Redwing.
Obviously, you all despise John Walker. Just the thought of him left a bad taste in your mouth.
He was like a fly that you all couldn’t get rid of. But because you were all painfully patient people—mostly you and Sam—you had to deal with his bullshit despite the way he annoyed you all.
Totally loosing your shit when Bucky helps Zemo break himself out of prison.
“Please tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.” You groaned, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose together.
Bucky looks at you with feign innocence; his mouth agape and puppy eyes. “I—didn’t do...anything(?).”
“You helped Zemo break out of prison didn’t you?” You crossed your arms at him, hip jutting out. As if on cue, Sokovian sugar daddy walks into the abandoned garage you were all in.
Before you can explode on him, Bucky tried to calm you down, “Wait, I technically didn’t do anything though! It was his plan!”
Zemo definitely lives up to being the ✨Sokovian Sugar Daddy✨ of your dysfunctional group.
I think you’d all be surprised at how rich he was. The amount of connections he had wasn’t that big of a shocker.
No like seriously, homie was pulling all sorts of shit out his ass; cars, private planes, houses in different countries, etc.
You all had a love hate relationship with Zemo. On days when he was actually helpful, you all got a long. On the days when things got horribly messy, Zemo couldn’t even let a word out since Sam would tell him to “shut up”.
Though that still doesn’t excuse the fact that he got the Avengers to spilt up and go against each other.
When you guys are all hiding out in one of Zemo’s apartments or homes, you would probably cook breakfast, lunch, or dinner for everyone.
They actually loved it when you cooked because it made the atmosphere feel a bit homey and calm compared to the current situation you were all in.
You were the person they can all go to. You were easy to talk to, making it easier for them to open up to you.
You always checked in on them mentally and physically. For example, you knew Sam felt guilty about giving up the shield, but Bucky never made him forget about his choice. You were there to reassure him that he thought he was doing the right thing and didn’t know the hidden agenda of the government.
You were like their on the go therapist, babysitter, and partner.
Sometimes Bucky and Sam would even argue for your attention.
“Can you stop hogging (y/n) please? Her ears might fall off from hearing you yap all day.” Bucky said as he gently took your arm and dragged you away from Sam.
“You literally spent the whole day with her yesterday, you’re the one who needs to stop hogging (y/n).” Sam argued, grabbing onto your other arm.
“I didn’t get to spend time with (y/n).” Zemo mentioned from his seat in the kitchen, a glass of whisky in his hand. Bucky simply turned to him and pointed, “NO!”
Honestly what’s a friendship with Bucky and Sam without some harmless flirting. They weren’t gonna lie, you were gorgeous, the most attractive one out of the group.
When you guys had to go undercover at Madripoor, both times with Zemo and Sharon, you had to wear dresses that were a bit revealing. Maybe your chest was a bit shown, but the dress definitely showed off your legs.
“So what do you guys think?” You stopped at the bottom of the stairs of Sharon’s apartment, doing a little spin to show off your outfit.
Both Bucky and Sam’s jaws drop, Zemo probably nodding in approval in the corner.
You can’t forget about the nicknames: maybe doll, sweetheart, or darlin’ from Bucky and the typical Louisiana Cher from Sammy.
While fighting against the Flag Smashers or anyone in general, you guys always had each other’s back.
You could directly be fighting someone, but you’ll naturally have an eye on Sam and Bucky to make sure nobody was sneaking up on them.
It’s a given that you all patch each other up after some fight.
You were all very protective of each other. If there’s one thing Sam and Bucky can agree on, it’s their instinct to protect you.
Like how you kept an eye on them, they also kept their eyes on you. Even though they knew you could hold your own.
“Could you walk?” Sam asked you as you laid on the concrete floor. You were double teamed by a couple of Flag Smashers. Two super soldiers against a normal person, you totally got your ass handed to you.
You pushed yourself up to rest on your elbows, “I’m fine, just got dropped kicked twice, but I’ll be fine.”
Sam smiled at you, “That’s my girl.”
Though the two can be a handful and argue almost every minute, you loved the both of them tremendously. You wouldn’t have it any other way.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
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thefanbasewhore · 3 years
Text
Two idiots
Summary || Bucky is an idiot who gets captured during a mission, his girlfriend is an even bigger idiot and goes after him.
Warning/content || This is kinda goofy but kidnapping is a warning I guess? Reader gets a little roughed up.
Paring || Bucky Barnes x female reader (no use of y/n)
Not edited
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"Are you kidding me?" Bucky mumbles, head thumping against the metal pole as eyes narrow, watching one of his capturers shuffled in. Which is nothing out of the ordinary, except that trashing girl in his death grip.
Bucky's lips form an unpleased line, frustration shown in the way wrinkles form on the skin of his forehead. Her arms are tied behind her back, no doubt with the same, unbreakable one that burns his skin. She's trashing, fighting to get out of the man's hold but one of the hands tighten against her upper back and force her head forward.
At the very moment she notices her dark haired lover, relief is prominent along her features, a small breath released but she doesn't get much time because the large hand tightenings around her arm, bruises already starting to form as he pushes her forward.
"Ow! Don't be so rough asshole!" Bucky grimaces at her words, watching her face contort with pain. His top lip raises in a snarl, a warning to the man but he doesn't even take the time of day to look at Bucky.
"I thought I told you not to come." She doesn't even get time to reply, instead a small gasp falls from lips as an unexpected hand grips her hair and roughly brings her to her knees. He mentions for her to move over, to be back to back with Bucky before typing them together.
"Leave her alone asshole." Buck's jaw clenches with every word, the belly of muscles popping through showing his disapprovement of the way the man his touching his girl. "Don't be so rough with her."
He expects the stupid, cruel laugh but not the rather large knee cap to the face.
Bucky groans in pain as the skin of his bottom lip rips from the impact, the bitter, metallic tastes floods his mouth as he sucks it between his teeth to nurse the pain. He peers up at the man with a devilish smirk and spits the blood-salvia mixture right on his boots.
"Keep it up Soldat and your little girlfriend will get it." The warning is enough to make his blood run cold and head drop to the floor, not wanting to take the risk.
"Soldat? Bucky, what's going on?" The question is asked as soon as the room is cleared. Bucky feels slightly smaller finger tips reach for his own. Without a second thought he holds them, warming them between his own, a silent 'everything is going to be fine.'
"I told you not to come." Bucky breaks the silence, clearly annoyed, his tone does very little to hide it. Spitting the pooling blood onto the floor once again.
As a a response she rolls her eyes, feeling his fingers intertwine with her own. "It's been three days since you checked in, I knew something was wrong and here you are."
"I specifically told you before I left -."
"I know what you told me!" She sna and pulls her fingers away as irritation wrinkles the skin between her brows.
It's not visible, but Bucky pouts to himself, blindly reaching out to grasp her hands again. "I'm sorry Hun, I just don't want you near these people."
It's not that she's not capable, any other mission she would be his first choice, lover or not. It's the reasoning why, they want the Winter Soldier who is no longer. A part of his life he has promised to get far, far away from her.
"They called you Soldat."
"Not Hydra." Bucky mumbles as large thumb rubs soft circles into the palm of her hand. The heat of his body leaning against her, the suboccipital of his head using her shoulder for some kind of support. He's exhausted from holding himself up, legs ached to stand again. "But they want the Winter Soldier. Keep asking what the words are."
"How did they get you anyways?"
"Don't want to talk about it." Irritation is written across his features, in the way his forehead creases, smile lines dropping downward to follow the line of his pursed lips.
He waits as she struggles, shifting weight from her left to her right, pulling hands apart for the low chance her kidnapper managed to not tighten the zip tie all the way but there is no use.
"Honey, what makes you think If I, a super soldier couldn't get out of here, that you can?"
"Jeeze, you're a grump today." She murmurs as Bucky huffs, baby blues rolling at the comment. Shifting back and forth, pulling as hard as she could until the makeshift cuffs pull the hair on her arms.
"Stop, you're going to hurt yourself." Bucky's tone is sharp, gruff as he leans further against the pole, completely given up.
"Don't Tell me what to do." She argues, Bucky doesn't even have to see it to know she's sticking her tongue out at him.
"Real mature."
"Well you're being mean! I came here to help you --." She begins, but the sharp breath Bucky exhales shows frustration, shifting from hip to hip to relieve the soreness of his backside.
"I told you not to come, I told you three times."
"What was I supposed to do? Leave you here, like this?" Frustration clearly shown by the way her forehead wrinkles and bitting her bottom lip.
"Yes!"
"God, you are so stubborn. What are we supposed to do now? These idiots don't know that you're not the winter soldier anymore." Despite feeling totally hopeless, her eyes run across the room, looking for something, anything to get them free.
"I tried telling them -."
"Wait, wait, they don't know you're the winter soldier anymore." The thought forms a smile on her lips, shifting a little closer to lean into Bucky.
"You just said that." Lack of sleep and food has made Bucky a little sluggish, weak but he's had worse.
"I love you to death, but when I get out of here I'm going to strangle you." Bucky snorts at her words,"I mean that I can say I know the words, given them to you and -."
"They'll untie me." A smile forms at the corner of his lips at the thought. His backside ached, body crunched over for days, he wanted nothing more then to stand.
"Bingo baby, when he comes back I'll tell him." She starts, "We should make noise and get someone's attention."
"God you are so fucking smart, why are you with me?"
"Buck, shut up." He can't help but chuckle, surprisingly clam despite the situation. With soft, circular motions finger tips touch her own, feeling every ridge that so uniquely defined. It's his own way of showing how much he's missed her; it's only been a few days but more then often thoughts of her fill his memory.
"I missed you."
"This isn't the time Buck, we need to get them in her-."
"You look beautiful."
A small smile fills the lines of her lips, bitting down of the fat of the bottom one as she looks down at the floor. "You can't even see me."
"Don't have to honey." The words are sweet and she wishes she could just turn around and kiss his dumb, stupid face with that lopsided grin until he speaks again, "you're the most beautiful girl in the world, even though you can't listen for shit -."
Before she could even comment the clicking of the door has the pair sitting straight as a smirk pulls on lips. "Show time babydoll, start crying."
"You start crying!"
"We have to make it believable! Cry and say that you know the words and the only way you'll give them up is they let you go." He's whisper yelling now as the foot steps clank the floor and every loud echo makes her visibly gringe.
"Okay, okay, shut up already, I am crying to concentrate!" Bucky squeezes his eyes shut, putting on his own little show.
A pair of black boots blur in front of her as false tears blur her vision. While he doesn't touch her, the man sinks to one knee, hovering only inches away. "Why are you crying girl?"
"I want to go home." Bucky has to hold in a laugh at the fake sob but manages to stay quiet. "Let me go, please, please."
***
The moment the words are muttered from the man's mouth, Bucky stiffens, the words effortlessly falling from his lips in German. "Ready to comply."
They don't suspect a think as one reaches over, knife in hand to cut the ropes. Bucky stands at attention, a lonely, dark void in his eyes.
One man observes him, despite how Bucky towers over him. "Soldat, kill her."
The way he stalks over, the darkness in his eyes is so believable that she even think there's a chance that the trigger words did work like intended. Bucky's fingers press against her jawline, angling her to look up. Bucky frowns suddenly, heading the voice behind him. "Kill her."
It all happens so fast, Bucky starts right into action, metal arm connecting with the man's face as blood drips onto the cement only inches away from her current position.
A roar rips from the other man's chest as he fully engages Bucky but with one swift movement Bucky's hand wraps around his throat, hearing gasping breath as Bucky slams him so hard into the ground it winds him.
One at a time they get up, time after time until they both manage to get the upper hand, pulling and pulling at both of his arms until Bucky gets so get up he lets out a grunt as he pushes both away with super human strength.
The problem is one of the men came tumbling right towards her, full body weight knocking her from her seated position into side lying but that's not what worried Bucky. The sound of her skull hitting the ground with such force, it makes him feel sick. With both men down, he hurries towards her.
"Ow." She hisses trying to pick herself up from the ground, the rough rope scratching her wrist. Hands bound behind her back aren't enough to lift her back up, no matter how hard she struggles.
"I gotcha, I gotcha." Bucky's hands find her shoulder, squeezing it affectionately once she's upright and pulling the ropes off with ease. Hands cup her cheeks with side to side motions, steel blues look over for an injury as angles her eyes to meet his own.
The light is suddenly so bright, a thick, white cast makes her wince and as a result squeezing her eyes shit. For a moment everything is gone, a sheet of black as sight disappears behind eyelids. The hand against the back of her head pulls her from a deep void, opening her eyes to a sight of a very, very worried Bucky. His hand is gently tapping against her cheek - to wake her nonetheless, concern laces his eyes, creates a wrinkle of confusion between dark brows.
His lips are moving but there's nothing to hear, he's watching her eyes fall hooded, all color draining as blood pressure starts to decline. It was too hard, she hit her head too hard.
"Honey, hey, hey look at me." It falls on deaf ears, fingers gently prod against the base of her skull, around the curve of her ears, looking for a wound, or even blood but there's nothing. A metal finger presses under her chin, begging falling eyes to give some sign of consciousness. "Does it hurt? Where does it hurt, babe?"
The groan of pain that leaves her lips is a small piece of relief, a hand reaches out to push the hair from frames the soft structure of her face. "Baby? God, are you okay? Can you hear me?"
"Mmmmm." The soft hand reaches out, up the distance of hair arm, over the muscular bulges of his arm before laying flat against the swell of his chest. The hand pushes, trying to create as much distance as possible. It was hard to breath, he was smothering her.
Bucky didn't let up, only pulled her closer until her forehead rest against his lateral clavicle, supporting all her body weight as a nose nuzzles into his chest. He lets out a breath of relief, one hand wrapped around the base of her back, rubbing soothing circles against the skin and the other curling into the base of her skull, with gentle fingers. "You scared me."
"'m fine, Buck."
"Your head sounded like a nut cracking on the pavement." He argues, still examinating for any blood or wound. "I know I call you peanut brain all the time but I was just kidding."
"You are the most annoying -." The words are cut short by a pair of dry, pink lips, lovingly pressing against her own. The full thickness of his bottom lip pressing between her own, long and sweet, filled with unspoken words; Thank goodness you're okay, I don't know what I would do without you.
Bucky pulls away, pressing her forehead against his chest, his arm wrapping around to coddle and away with her. It's mumbled under his breath, "You scared me, baby."
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floralseokjin · 4 years
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⤑ made-up love song iii.
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Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher, never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago, and you’re unable to remember the last time you dated. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire. 
Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…
pairing; kim seokjin x reader  au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual smut, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, lots of lasagne talk, flirting, kissing, fluff 🥰 words; 9,340
↪︎ chapter index
chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)
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After you had time to calm down, of course you ended up telling Soojung about what happened on the date. You kept some things to yourself, mainly about how giddy you had felt throughout the whole thing, but you were sure she could see that for herself – she kept looking at you knowingly, and for once she kept the teasing down to a minimum. You ended up staying awake quite late, Soojung opening a bottle of wine. You were still excited from the date and the thought of what was to come next, but somewhere along the line, you and your best friend started getting into your feelings. (Was it really a Saturday night until you and Soojung ended it with slightly drunk sappy heart to hearts and hugs? Obviously not…) 
For the first time in a while you felt comfortable enough to open up about your love life (or lack of one) and felt it easy to talk about the past and to even bring up Donghae. He was a forbidden topic for the most part, no matter how much you were over him, but tonight had changed something. You didn’t know how to explain it, and no, it wasn’t because Seokjin was somehow the man of your dreams who had magically made things better with just one date. That was dumb and only happened in cliché Hallmark movies. 
No, it was because tonight had shown you that life goes on. No matter what rock bottom you hit, or how long it took you to get over it, no hurt was forever. You’d been single for a long time, and happy at that – after you’d gotten over the heartbreak of Donghae cheating on you – but tonight you’d had fun. You’d enjoyed yourself, enjoyed Seokjin’s company. You didn’t know what would come of your second date, or if there would be a third, but you were okay with that. You were just living in the moment, and right now you really liked that infuriating-not-so-infuriating bastard. 
You were taking a chance, just like he was, and it was actually pretty exciting…
.
.
You woke up late the next morning, something you didn’t reprimand yourself for because it was summer break after all, but also, you had a raging wine headache that had needed all the shut eye it could get. Your head was still throbbing slightly as you reached for your phone on the bedside table but seeing a text from Seokjin waiting for you made it miraculously disappear. 
Seokjin (10:28am) Hi Y/N, Thank you for such a great time last night. I can’t wait until Saturday. Would it be alright with you if I kept in touch throughout the week?  Seokjin
You giggled to yourself at his insane formalities. Why was that so adorable? But most importantly how could he be both cute and sexy at the same time? He was hellbent on making you lose your mind. You thought about teasing him, asking him when he’d grown comfortable enough to drop the Regards from yesterday, but despite how well last night had gone, and despite how much you loved joking around with him in person, over the phone seemed different. You were still a little nervous – giddy nervous, but nervous, nevertheless. Your conversation from last night with Soojung came back to you, reminding you that this was all too real. You were potentially catching feelings for this man, and it was new, and exciting, but equal parts terrifying now that you’d woken up with a hangover. 
Everything you typed out in reply seemed way too stiff, so growing frustrated, you settled on an emoji to cut through the formalities. 
You (10:49am) I had such a lovely time too, Seokjin. Of course it’s fine to keep in touch. I’m looking forward to Saturday night! 😊
What did he mean exactly about keeping in touch?, you wondered as you got out of bed, padding your way down the stairs and into the kitchen for a much needed glass of ice cold water. A good morning text? A how are you? You knew he was busy with work all week, so you weren’t expecting too much, but just knowing he wanted to stay in contact until next Saturday made you smile to yourself as you waited for his response. 
You didn’t have to wait long. 
Seokjin (10:55am) Great! I’m so excited to try your World famous Italian lasagne 😁
Cute. He’d followed your lead, ditching the last of the formalities and even signing off with an emoji instead. You instantly felt more at ease, but – 
Oh no. 
Why did he have to bring that up and remind you of your humiliating blunder? You knew what would be taking up all of your time for the few days – you needed to perfect this goddamn dish. 
Soojung on the other hand was unbothered by your predicament. Mind in the gutter as always. “Do you think that’s a euphemism for something else?” She asked straight away once you’d shown her your messages a few hours later. 
“Soojung!” You exclaimed, feeling yourself get a little hot in the face. You wish she’d stop bringing up sex, it was stressing you out. You told her as much. 
“You’re the one who’s invited him to your house for a second date.” 
You stared at her, greatly unimpressed. “You know why I invited him here.” 
You’d told her last night. You’d been hit with a surge of confidence when you’d suggested it was your turn to decide on something. In truth though, you didn’t know the first thing about restaurants, you hardly ever ate out, and when you did it was either fast food or at the food court in the department store Soojung worked at. You knew he wouldn’t have minded any choice you’d made, but that didn’t stop the slight apprehension you felt. 
It was normal, given your difference in lifestyles, and whilst that seemed to be no issue thankfully, that difference was still there. However really, that’s why you’d chosen to cook for him. Seokjin had shown you something close to him last night – the restaurant he owned with his brother, and now you were to show him something close to your heart. Something that was you. You loved cooking and baking in your spare time and you wanted to share that with him however small. Granted it was things you were confident with, but lasagne couldn’t be that hard, right? A true perfectionist, you’d master it quickly enough…
Soojung rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you could suggest McDonald’s and Dilf would be insanely happy.” She nudged you, squealing like a kid. “He’s just so into you!”
You wouldn’t bite. She was making you nervous again. “Stop calling him Dilf, he has a name.”
“Geez, sorry.” She held up her hands in apology. “Didn’t mean to offend your man.” 
You pushed her shoulder, silently telling her to quit it.
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For the next few days it became your life’s goal to master the art of lasagne. Sunday night was spent googling recipes, trying to find the most authentic one. There seemed to be a lot of fuss on the right type of pasta. Flat edged would be fine, but the wavy edge was best. You made note of that. Next was the sauce. Two types. The tomato based one and then the white one – which you learned was called Bechamel. That seemed pretty easy to cook up, but the former seemed a little daunting. Every time you’d had pasta sauce in the past it had been premade, starting from scratch was giving you anxiety. Seokjin thought this was your expertise so you had to make it believable. What if you made it too salty? Too bland?
…Possibly you were thinking way too hard about this. Soojung thought the same. 
“Just buy it in a jar, Y/N, for Christ’s sake. You’re taking this way too seriously. You don’t need to learn fluent Italian to make your little white lie believable. It’s a goddamn lasagne.” 
She had a point. 
“He’d be happy with a sandwich. He’s coming over for you, not the shitty lasagne.” 
“Don’t call my non-existent lasagne shitty, you’re setting me up for failure.” You grumbled, looking at the ten tabs you had up on your laptop screen, all claiming to be the best most authentic recipe around.  
On Monday you went shopping for ingredients. You knew a small world foods store that was just outside of town, you’d been there a couple of times when you’d been baking with the children for class. With help from signposted aisles, you found what you were looking for in no time at all, so that night, you and Soojung both tucked into your first (sort of) homemade lasagne. Only the Bechamel sauces was harder to master than you’d first thought. 
“I think you added too much flour.” Soojung’s nose wrinkled as she spoke. “It’s nice, don’t get me wrong, but the white stuff… I don’t know, maybe it’s supposed to taste like that?” 
Nope, she was definitely correct, too much flour, which was odd because you were pretty positive you’d followed the right measurements… 
Tuesday you had a day off from the sight, and even the word lasagne. You met for coffee with your mom but kept the date with Seokjin a secret. Not that she pressed about your love life anymore, she’d long given up on that topic. It was nice to catch up and you made plans for a trip soon. It was hard to find time to visit her when you were in work so you were always thankful for the summer and Christmas breaks. You were her only child, so it made your time together even more precious. She’d only remarried ten years ago, and while Jonathon had kids from his first marriage, they lived abroad. They were older than you and had families of their own. You weren’t particularly close for no other reason than the distance. You’d only met them a few times but they were lovely people. Your father had remarried while you were still in high school, having two more children (a son and daughter) with his wife. You were very close to them despite the age gap and saw them as regularly as you could. Your extended family had long been the norm and you wouldn’t change it for the world. 
Wednesday you were back on the lasagne. You purchased more pasta sauce and decided on the pre-made Bechamel sauce too, just to be safe. This time around everything went smoothly, Soojung had no complaints and neither did you, but you still invited Taehyung around on Thursday for a third go. He was way more enthusiastic than your best friend, singing your praises all night. 
“Y/N, that was amazing!” He exclaimed, leaning back in his chair to pat his belly. “Dilf dick – Uh, I mean, Seokjin, is going to love it.” 
“Guys, is that what you really call him when you’re alone together?” You whined. 
“Blame Soo,” Taehyung shrugged. “She’s rubbed off on me. But, I’m right,” he smirked. “He’s going to want to give you his DD once he tastes this, if you know what I mean.” 
Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, you looked on unimpressed. Maybe if you gave them no reaction they’d stop? 
“Oooo. I wonder what his dick even looks like. I bet it’s as handsome as his face.” Soojung squealed, sat beside her boyfriend. 
“SOOJUNG!” He cried, mouth open in disbelief. 
“Can we just stop talking about his… y’know…” You sighed, unable to say the word aloud. “Imagine if it was the other way around and he was wondering about what I looked like naked.” Soojung wouldn’t be impressed, that was for sure. 
“Fine, you’re right,” your best friend sighed. “I’m just way too excited because you finally like someone!!” She was getting loud now, she always did when she was excited. “And I want it to work out because you deserve it!” 
You chuckled. “Soo, calm down.” But you had to admit her words were sweet. You reached for her hand across the tiny table, giving it a gentle squeeze of thanks. 
“What about Barman dick?” Taehyung asked randomly, totally oblivious that you and she were having a moment. “Huh? Soo? You want my Barman dick tonight?” He wiggled his eyebrows again, a playfulness to his voice as he nudged her. 
She giggled but wasn’t having any of it. “It doesn’t really have the same ring to it, babe.” 
Highly offended he pulled away, pursing his lips. “Whatever.”
“Okay guys, let’s not have a domestic at the dining table.” You laughed. Which was a mistake because now Taehyung’s attention was back on you. 
“So, Y/N, when are you going to invite Mr. Dilf to my bar?”
You sniggered. “How about never?”
“Hey, you ladies are being very mean tonight. I complimented your lasagne.” Hm. That was true, you guessed. “What’s wrong with my bar? I think he’d love it. What does he drink? I see him as a dark rum type of guy.” 
You shrugged. “He was drinking red wine on our date last week.” It still made you feel funny to say the word date. You’d gone on a date. You were dating. A flurry of excitement found its way to your stomach, your excitement for Saturday growing. 
“Interesting,” Taehyung mused.
Soojung stood up, starting to collect your plates. “Okay, I’m washing, who’s drying?”
“Not me,” you sang. “I’ve cooked nearly every night this week.” 
Soojung eyes were wide when you met them, as if she was silently begging you. For what? “Just please promise me there won’t be any lasagne waiting for me after work tomorrow night? I’m going to turn into one at this rate.” 
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Saturday arrived soon enough. You woke up the same time your phone went Bing and you knew exactly who it was. Seokjin had been texting you Good morning every day since Monday. He was no longer signing them off with his name, which was progress, and he was even adding more emojis, so you guessed you had rubbed off on him. 
Sometimes he’d drop a meme with the greeting. They were mostly to do with early mornings and workloads to which you’d tease him about because it was your summer vacation after all, you didn’t need to worry about work. But you always sent a Hope today runs smoothly his way too. You didn’t want to rub it in too much. 
Yesterday’s meme had been about dating, something about the guy trying to flirt but being garbage at it and asking if she liked cheese. You didn’t agree that was like Seokjin though – you were gradually learning that he was incredibly modest – but it had made you laugh. Only Seokjin could send you lame memes and you’d find it adorable… You were possibly whipped. 
Seokjin (8:01am)  Good morning. [Image sent] 
Today the meme was about lasagne, which made you question whether he was googling these every morning because no way had a lasagne meme popped up on his social media – if he used any at all. The realisation that he was searching for memes every day was even more endearing and your heart got a little gooey. You read the text on top of the image of lasagne. Dude, is that your new white shirt? Lemme just hop off this fork for a closer look. You genuinely laughed at that one, still wrapped up in your bed sheets. So incredibly lame, but equal levels funny. 
Seokjin (8:01am)  I will not be wearing white… I can’t wait to see you later. Just a reminder that I hope you omitted the garlic for tonight’s meal. I don’t want to embarrass myself by itching all night 😅😂
Immediately the smile dropped from your face and you shot forward, horror washing over you. Oh no. He was allergic to garlic. With the stress of perfecting the world’s best lasagne you’d totally forgotten. What were you going to do? Find a plain tomato sauce? Where the hell were you going to find one? Was that even a thing? You needed to leave now. Jumping out of bed you almost forgot to message Seokjin back. Looking at your phone again the image of the lasagne mocked you… 
.
.
Two hours later you were back at home, in need of a sit down after you’d rushed around town looking for a pasta sauce that didn’t contain garlic (very hard, by the way.) The stress had aged you about ten years. Soojung of course found it highly hilarious. 
“You’d have been in ER before 9pm,” she chortled, still in her pyjamas on the couch. She’d been still asleep when you’d dashed off, a woman on a lasagne mission. 
You ignored her. It wouldn’t have been that bad, right? He said himself he’d only be itching… Clawing off his own skin was probably better than his throat closing up… maybe… 
“How did you manage to forget?” She was still laughing. “AND you said you’d make a lasagne. Italian food always uses garlic. He must think you’re trying to kill him.” At this point you could hardly understand her, words blurring into one as she lost her shit. 
“We went over this. I wasn’t in my right mind when I said I’d cook lasagne.”
She stopped her laugher immediately.  “No way, you’re not blaming me again.” 
“Ugh.” You sighed, suddenly remembering something. “I was going to make my homemade garlic bread.” Now that was a speciality of yours. This night was going to be a disaster.
“Skip the garlic,” Soojung suggested. 
“So, just bread then.” 
She tried her best not to laugh again, not wanting to make it worse. “Yum.” 
It didn’t help. 
What did help though, was making her clean the entirety of the downstairs of the house. As the day went on you started to get more and more nervous, which was silly, but you couldn’t help it. You realised that your place was a shoe box in comparison to his, what the hell were you thinking when you’d invited him here?! It needed to be spotless, to distract him from the fact you would be eating dinner in the same place you would be cooking it… 
You knew there was no need to worry, it was just like last week when you’d grown self-conscious only to be fine once you’d set eyes on Seokjin. No doubt tonight would be just the same, he didn’t give a crap about stuff like that, so why would you even think he would? He’d probably be hurt if he knew… You just couldn’t help those little bubbles of insecurities from floating around inside your brain. You were a law unto yourself, and the garlic-less lasagne wasn’t helping. You’d had no time to prep for it. What if it tasted like cardboard? 
“Lasagne is lasagne,” Soojung reassured you, in the kitchen as you got all the ingredients together. “It’s not going to taste gross just because there’s no garlic in it. Put it this way, at least you can kiss without needing to pop a mint.” 
You whined, shaking your head, you couldn’t even dare thinking about kissing him right now. You’d spontaneously combust from anxiety. 
“Should we clean your room too?” She asked, picking up the jar of pasta sauce absentmindedly. You’d already read the label approximately fifteen times, double checking it was indeed garlic-less. 
“What? No,” you told her, voice all high-pitched. There would be no going upstairs besides from bathroom usage. “But hey,” you exclaimed, rounding on her with the spoon you were holding in your hand. “My room is always clean, bitch.”
She was the messy one.
.
.
Soojung left for Taehyung’s place at half 6, ready for Seokjin’s arrival at 7pm, a hug for good luck before you waved her off. You’d calmed greatly now, nothing like some table laying to ease some nerves. The lasagne was prepped and ready to oven cook, you had a fresh key lime pie in the fridge and you were dressed and presentable with ten minutes to spare. Wonderful. 
The doorbell rung not long after you’d made your way downstairs and you were quickly finding out that Seokjin was a very punctual man. Opening the door to reveal him stood at the porch your heart instantly warmed, skipping a beat when he gave you a dazzling smile and a soft Hey. You felt a little weak at the knees. Nope, you were not ready for tonight. 
In your tiny entryway he offered you a silver gift bag. “I didn’t know what to bring, so.” He said with a shrug as you pulled out a bottle of red wine. 
“Oh, thank you, Seokjin.” You hadn’t been expecting him to bring anything at all. It was a lovely surprise. 
“You probably have some waiting already. I’m sorry.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” you reassured him. “We’ll use this one.” You were going to use a bottle of white wine you had laying around, nothing special at all. Red wine seemed better, fancier, maybe it would go better with the lasagne?
“Are you sure?” He asked. “I was gonna get you flowers but I didn’t want to freak you out or anything.”
You laughed. What was he going on about? “Why would that freak me out?”
His smile was crooked as he chuckled quietly. “I don’t know. I’m new to this, I thought they would’ve been too forward.” 
You gave a small shrug, voice barely there when you replied. “I like flowers.”
He gazed at you, warm eyes softening as he stepped forward. “Next time.” He smiled. “Next time I’ll get you flowers.” 
You swallowed fairly loudly, averting your gaze as you outstretched your arms. “Let me take you coat.” Was it hot in here? You felt a little stuffy. 
He shrugged off the beige wool blend, revealing the tight fitting black shirt he had on underneath. It stretched over his shoulders, accentuating how broad they were, how hard his chest was and how much his waist curved inwards. The pants he was wearing didn’t help matters too. He looked effortlessly gorgeous, hair parted to the side, a piece curled above his left eye, softening the blow of his exposed forehead. You moved to hook his coat on the rack, realising you could’ve been gawping. Not that you could help it, the man was trying to kill you.
As you turned to face him again, he smiled. “You look really nice.” His voice was soft which just made it even more dangerous. “I think this may be the first time I’ve seen you in pants.” 
“Really?” You wondered. You were partial to a dress in the summer, so he was probably right. You’d chosen a pair of black skinny jeans and a patterned chiffon blouse. Nothing too fancy, but he looked at you with awe-filled eyes. Unless you were imagining it. You cleared your throat. “You look good too.”
He stepped back, arms outstretched as he looked down at himself. “Thanks. No white.” He chuckled. 
You forced yourself to laugh too, nerves creeping back just because of your stupid damn lasagne. “No white.” 
Moving forward again he took your hand. It was warm and soft, just as you remembered from last week. Who cared about the lasagne when you were this close to him? When he was looking down at you with those brown, twinkly eyes? Not you anymore. 
“I’ve been looking forward to this all week, Y/N.” 
Oh.
.
.
You invited him inside the living room first, pouring him a small (and his only because he the car) glass of wine as you chit chatted for a few minutes. Sat next to him was RJ, who you’d taken from your bedroom to join you both for the night. He wanted to say Hi, had been your opening line and Seokjin had found it hilarious, cracking up instantly. Although his “I missed you buddy, how have you been?” went rudely ignored. Maybe the alpaca was nervous… 
Ever the gentleman, he complimented you on the house, noting the décor with a fond eye. That surprised you, maybe he had played a part with the interior of his home. Well, you’d only seen the cosy family room – but it suited him very well. You knew there had been no need to be nervous when it came to inviting him into your home. There wasn’t a judging bone in Seokjin’s body. 
You talked about your weeks, yours had been fine, but of course you left out all the stress over the lasagne. Seokjin’s week on the other hand had been quite demanding, but that was nothing new he told you with an accepting shake of his hand. He was used to it by now, but he had to admit tonight’s date had made it easier this time around. He was full of the charm, not that you were complaining…
Misook was babysitting Arin tonight, he told you when you asked how she was. It was his weekend this week, he and Nana took it in turns – when she didn’t cancel, he added as an afterthought – but he seemed a lot more relaxed talking about his ex-wife this time around seeing as last weekend she hadn’t broken any promises. He was happy if his daughter was happy, and that made you smile. You remembered Arin’s sorrowful face that day her mom had cancelled on her, so you were glad they’d found time to spend time together. You also remembered how irritated Seokjin had sounded when he was opening up to you on the bench at the school fate… You wondered just how often Nana cancelled plans, and couldn’t imagine how frustrating that was for both Arin and Seokjin… You hoped this marked the start of things being easier for them now. 
Soon after that, you served him your starter (“garlic – wait, no I mean, no-garlic bread.”), and you chatted some more over that and while the lasagne baked. It was surprising how little you’d touched the sides on your first date, so tonight you covered even more bases. Family mainly. You told him about your half and step siblings, your parents’ remarriages of course coming up too. He seemed interested in that, wondering about your views on it and if it had affected you as you grew up. As a divorcee you understood the relevance to him and because he was so easy to talk to you found yourself opening up freely. 
His parents were still married and Seokjin was the youngest out of their two sons, so it was quite unheard of for the second born to take over a family company. In fact, it was the first of its kind for his, which made it even harder for him. His older brother had been the rightful heir to LG Electronics but his passion had always been in culinary arts. His parents had been kind enough to let him follow his dreams, and thankfully, for Seokjin, that meant he could follow in his father’s footsteps. He’d been eager to prove himself but it had been hard in the beginning. His status as the youngest son meant that a lot of people set him up for failure, but with his family’s love and belief he’d managed to succeed and confirm himself as the rightful CEO. You didn’t doubt it. It seemed he’d worked hard to get where he was now. That was admirable. 
The influx of information was so interesting to you and it didn’t feel real. While you could imagine Seokjin taking charge, visualising him in that tailored houndstooth suit he’d worn when you’d first met him, it was strange to think the smiley and soft-spoken man sat in front of you was from a long line of power and wealth. He should be untouchable, yet here you were able to reach for his hand across the table. Able to feel his forefinger stroking delicate patterns into your palm as you opened up and got to know one another more and more… 
“So, if your family’s a big deal, what about things like arranged marriages? Are they still a thing?” You asked, maybe confusing fiction for fact. 
Seokjin laughed at your wording. “They used to be, not so much anymore. I met my ex-wife through a friend. They concentrate less on things like that these days.” He shrugged, adding as an afterthought, “As a divorced CEO I think I’m a great example of that.” 
That was true, you thought to yourself, wondering how the breakdown of his marriage had also played a part in the stress of his early years as CEO. 
“I know it all sounds pretty crazy, but I like to think my family is just like anyone else’s.” He continued, smiling bashfully when you met his gaze. “That I’m just like anyone else.” 
You wondered how many people had immediately judged him because of his status… You’d been one of them, right? Even if you hadn’t known any of the details, you’d written him off as some obnoxious, rich guy who flaunted his wealth… You felt guilty thinking back. He was the complete opposite.
You nodded in agreement before grinning. “I’d have liked to see what college Seokjin was like.” 
“A complete nerd, to tell you the truth.” 
He answered so seriously, you didn’t know how to react, and then he was laughing loudly, cracking up at himself. You couldn’t help but join in. That’s when your stove alarm went off, shrill and incessant, signalling the arrival of the dreaded lasagne…
It turned out he loved it though. 
“This is amazing,” Seokjin praised, mouth still half full as he chewed. You did have to admit it was good. It tasted just like the original, despite the lack of garlic. Seokjin quirked an eyebrow, smirking your way. “So, how lucky am I to be able to try this World famous Italian lasagne?” 
“Very lucky.” You kept your answer short. Hoping he’d just drop it. 
He didn’t. 
“How lucky?” He tried to pry from you. “How many people have tried it?” 
You gave him a small smile, hovering your fork over the plate. Technically he was the third, but you couldn’t tell him that, could you? “I can’t disclose that.” 
He emitted a short laugh. “What about the recipe? Care to share?” 
You brushed him off with a soft chuckle. “A chef never tells her secrets.”
“Not even me?” His bottom lip jutted out as he looked across at you. 
Your heart did a little dance. He was being unfair. “Don’t pout like that, it’s making me feel guilty.” 
Thankfully the lasagne topic fizzled out after a couple more minutes, your cold sweat having time to dissipate while you chatted and ate together comfortably. However a few minutes later you noticed Seokjin fidgeting slightly in his seat. You politely ignored it to begin with, unsure if you were just imagining it, but then he started itching the back of his neck. You put your fork down, a sick feeling washing over you. “Is anything wrong?” You asked, now watching him itch up his forearm. “Seokjin?”
He looked at you in mild confusion, eyebrows creasing together as he opened his mouth. “Are you sure there wasn’t any garlic in this?” 
You swallowed away the panic racing up your throat. “I’m sure.” You’d read the back of that jar and then read it some more. “I’m positive.” 
… Weren’t you? You watched him scoot his chair back, leaning down to start scratching the back of his calves. He made noises of discomfort as he did so. 
“Oh, no…” You were up before you could stop yourself, racing around him to start hunting in the recycling for the glass jar. 
“Wait, where are you going?” 
You could hear Seokjin’s voice behind you, sounding alarmed, but you were too panicked to really take it in. You needed to be sure. This was just your second date, you couldn’t ruin things already. Turning him into one giant itchy red blob had not been your intention.  
“I was only teasing you.” Still, his words didn’t sink in. That was until you felt a hand on your elbow, tugging gently for your attention. 
You spun around, worried eyes wide – even wider when you found him so close. He was on his feet too, bent a little to level with you, pretty much within kissing distance. His voice was soft when he spoke, you found yourself distracted by his mouth. “Y/N, I was just messing around.”
You blinked, not truly understanding with all those annoying distractions zooming around your mind, but slowly you pieced his words together. Oh. Despite the relief you felt, now you just felt silly. Plus, he was still so close to you… 
You took a step back, the small of your back pressing up against the counter. You needed a clear head. “Don’t freak me out like that.” You told him, but you still sighed in relief, hand against your chest. “I thought I’d poisoned you.” 
He looked a little concerned, but you could tell by his eyes he found your reaction amusing. “I’m sorry,” he apologised. “I just wanted to make you laugh.”
“Make me laugh? You nearly gave me heart failure.” However, you gave him what he wanted, a laugh that sounded weak and shaky, but it was something – you did see the funny side. 
He joined you, shoulders relaxing now that he knew you were okay. He looked behind you, eyes on the trashcan, a bemused smile on his face. “What were you looking for anyway?”
“The jar.” You answered, as if it wasn’t obvious. You turned, deciding to fish it out anyway. Holding it up to him, you were adamant. “See, no garlic. Check.” 
He chuckled. “I already said I was joking.” He took one look at your desperate expression and gave in, taking the jar from your hand. “But if it makes you feel better…” You watched him as he read the label, silently soaking in his handsome features. He looked softer tonight, the curve of his jaw rounding as he smiled. It took you a moment to realise he was done. He handed the jar back to you, and you prayed to God he hadn’t caught you staring at him all gooey-eyed. “It’s fine.” He confirmed. “I’ll be itch free tonight.” 
You smiled and plopped the glass back inside the can. “I looked around town for hour trying to find lasagne sauce sans garlic.” 
He looked guilty. “I’m sorry for being awkward.” Then he paused, eyes narrowing, the hint of a smirk itching at the corners of his mouth. “But… Y/N, are you a fraud?” Huh? What did he mean? You didn’t need to wait long for an explanation. “I thought a certified chef would cook up a batch of her own tomato sauce.”
Oh. You’d gone and put your foot in it, hadn’t you? It was probably time to explain yourself… “I have a confession,” you began, sounding wary. Seokjin looked interested albeit it mildly confused. “I… may have told a little white lie.”
He shook his head, a puff of laughter leaving him. “You’ve lost me.” 
You took a deep breath, knowing you were going to have to spell it out for him. “I’ve never made lasagne before. Ever. In my entire life.” 
He looked confused as silence spread out between you. He sounded it too when he spoke again. “Then why did you say it was your speciality?”
You groaned, dropping your face into your hands for one dramatic moment. “I panicked.” Peeking at him, you babbled on. “I know it sounds stupid but Soojung was curtain twitching and it was stressing me out and then you were asking me what I cooked and lasagne just popped into my head!”
Seokjin blinked, his mouth twitched and then he was laughing – loudly. 
“You find it funny?” You asked, relaxing a tad. 
“Very.” He laughed harder but seeing the look of bafflement on your face he tried is best to still it. 
“I’ve been practicing it like crazy,” you whined, happy you could finally tell him all about your lasagne struggles. “This is my fourth time eating it this week. Soojung nearly killed me.” You snorted at the memory. This started up Seokjin again. “And then I forgot you were allergic to garlic. Your text reminded me this morning and I had to rush out to the grocery store.” 
He was weak at the knees at that, and you were laughing just because he was. It was contagious. “Stop,” you wailed, attempting to get a hold of yourself. This week had actually been quite traumatic. “I’m glad you find it funny, I’ve been in constant stress ever since you drove off last week.” 
“I can’t help it.” He chuckled, although he did sound apologetic. “You’re just so adorable.” The air that settled around his effortless admission made your skin prickle. When he carried on, his tone was gentle. “You know I wouldn’t have minded if you changed the menu to something else, right?” 
You pouted ever so slightly. “But you were looking forward to it.” 
He gave a small shrug. “True, but… that was more so code for ‘I’m looking forward to seeing you again.’ The food was just a bonus. I’d be happy with a Big Mac.” 
You felt your cheeks burn and you tried to shake yourself out of it. “So embarrassing,” you murmured. You didn’t know what for… The lasagne mess or the fact he could have this much of an effect of you? You were inclined to go with the latter. 
“What about the no-garlic bread?” Seokjin asked, changing the subject a little. Maybe he’d sensed your embarrassment and didn’t want to make it worse. He was sweet. “Did you make that?”
“Yeah,” you nodded. “Well, I didn’t bake the bread. I just toasted it.” It was still a speciality of yours though. “It would’ve been much tastier with the garlic.” 
He gave you an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. This body wants to turn me into a miserable old man.” 
Pfft. Old? Miserable? He was anything but. 
“Sit,” he prompted you, smiling as he motioned with his head to the table. “Finish your World famous Italian lasagne before it grows cold.” 
As you moved he delicately cupped his hand around the curve your waist, giving it a soft squeeze before he got to his chair first. Your stomach flipped, head dizzy as you sat and tucked your chair in. Last Saturday popped into your head, the way you’d loosely held hands outside and how you were sure he’d been leaning in to kiss you – properly. 
You knew one thing. You really wanted to kiss him tonight. 
Trying to get a hold of yourself, you glanced at him, catching his eyes. He was already tucking in again, and he grinned bashfully, as if embarrassed. “This really is great. All that practice paid off.” A pause. “You should show me how you cooked it sometime.” 
Your face lit up in surprise. “You cook?” In the back of your mind you were aware that he’d probably been hinting for a third date, but you were so shocked by the possibly of Seokjin cooking you couldn’t stop yourself from asking. 
He chuckled quietly. “I mean, when I have time and can be bothered. I like cooking but it’s just easier to go to a restaurant or get it delivered.” He looked sheepish before adding, “Or Misook does it for me.” 
There was no shame when it came to that. Seokjin probably worked all hours of the day, no one could expect him to tie on an apron when he got home and start pulling out pots and pans. 
“Do you cook a lot?” He asked. 
You nodded. “Soojung and I take it in turns.” 
“So what is your speciality?” He smiled. 
This time around you were in your right mind and able to answer properly. “Veggie tacos.” 
He raised his eyebrows, impressed. Then he tried again. “Can you make them for me sometime?”
He was persistent, you’d give him that. You shrugged, trying your best to sound impassive but the little smirk gave it away. “Maybe if you say please…” 
He laughed, leaning forward, a hand clasping yours as he tilted his head. The piece of curled hair falling into his left eye. “Please?”
Your heart did another little dance inside your chest. 
.
After dessert you both made your way back to the living room, settling on your couch with two pomegranate mocktails Taehyung had prepared for you yesterday. All you had to do was add the pomegranate juice and lemonade to the ice cubes and crushed lime segments and mint before serving, easy-peasy. Seokjin was highly impressed, but of course you couldn’t take the credit. It was all down to your best friend’s very helpful barman boyfriend. 
You were glad Seokjin wanted to stay as you didn’t want the night to be over yet. It had flown by so fast and you’d had so much fun. You already felt like you knew him better, even after only two dates. It was strange to you, how you could feel so relaxed in a stranger’s company, but then again, you guessed he wasn’t a stranger anymore… Plus, he was so easy to talk to, so interesting to get to know…. Everything between you two came easy. 
Like opening up to him, being a bit more vulnerable… 
“I’ve been slightly nervous all week,” you admitted, clutching your drink to you before chuckling softly. “– and not just about the lasagne faux pas…” 
“There was no need to be nervous. I thought we left all that behind on the first date,” Seokjin reassured, smiling warmly your way. 
You were sat together, turned to face one another. It was intimate and cosy. He had one leg lifted, the ankle resting on the knee of the other leg, and where his pants had ridden up, you could see an inch or so of his calf before it met the black cotton of his sock. For some reason, you found that very, very sexy. Maybe you had been single for far too long. 
“We did,” you agreed, hesitating slightly. “It’s just… I haven’t done anything like this in so long.” 
You didn’t even think you’d ever invited someone around for dinner before. You were still quite young when you found yourself in a relationship with Donghae so your dates before him had been very basic. Your dates with him hadn’t really classed as such just because you became official fairly quickly, and your dates after him, well, it was already known that they had been few and far between. 
“You already know we’re in the same boat,” he smiled before chuckling bashfully. “No, but really, when I asked you for dinner that day at the fate I was expecting you to turn me down.” 
“How come?”
He looked down at his drink, lifting a shoulder. “I thought you’d think that I was crossing a line… or maybe the spark I was feeling was all in my head and in reality you just found me really annoying.” 
That was cute. He’d been doubting himself. Human after all. Not that you’d ever thought he wasn’t. You still didn’t miss the opportunity to joke around though. “I mean, both can exist simultaneously.” He taking a sip of his mocktail when you replied so he ended up snorting into his glass, amused by your wit. 
A moment or so passed and Seokjin gazed at you, smiling softly. If he kept this up, you’d be a puddle on your parquet flooring. “So, tell me,” he hummed. “How did I luck out so good?” You raised an eyebrow, wondering what he meant. “How come an amazing person like you isn’t married or in a relationship?”
He must’ve seen the slight shock on your face and panicked instantly. “Is that a weird thing to ask? I feel like it is. I apologise.”
“No,” you insisted, sitting up a little straighter. He followed. “No, it’s not.” You wanted to open up to him. You really did. You just didn’t know where to start. Although, it was pretty simple. “I’ve been single for a while.” 
“How long?” Seokjin was instantly focused, attentive, noticing the change in your body language. 
“Three years. My last relationship didn’t end very well.” You paused, wondering if you should continue. But then… It had been a massive part of your life. No matter how much time had passed and no matter how okay you were now, it had still happened. And Seokjin, he had trusted you enough to open up about his divorce – even before you’d gone on your first date. You wanted to talk about it. You really did. 
“I found out my fiancé was cheating on me.”  
Seokjin’s eyes widened, unable to cloak his surprise. He hadn’t been expecting that. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said sincerely. 
“It’s fine,” you smiled. “It was rough getting over it. Took me a while, but it is what it is. It’s in the past now.” 
“Did it put you off dating?” 
You were pleasantly surprised to find it was actually easy to talk to Seokjin about this. Your mouth was opening before you had to think about it. “I mean, at first. I was still very much in love with him, even after he broke my heart. But I got over him and I started dating again – briefly – It just didn’t feel right.” You stopped to smile. “It’s been over a year and I can’t say I missed it… but you…” Nerves growing, you pushed them away. “You’ve changed that. I’m having fun.” 
Seokjin’s face lit up and he chuckled. “I did hit second date status after all.” 
“You did…” 
“So,” he leaned closer, a small smirk on his face. “You could say, hitting your car that day wasn’t actually my fault because it was supposed to happen.” 
You snorted as you laughed, head falling against the back of the couch. “I wouldn’t go that far.” 
He made a sound. “But we wouldn’t have met otherwise.” 
“We would!” You exclaimed. “The parent-teacher meeting.” 
He blinked, feeling dumb. “Oh, yeah.” 
It wouldn’t have had the same effect, granted, but you would have become acquainted with one another regardless. “Would you have still liked me?” You asked without thinking, surprising yourself. 
“Yes,” he replied immediately. “I was instantly attracted to you after all, it’s just…” Instantly attracted? Definitely a charmer... “There would’ve been no way for me to get to know you like I did.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You’re really adamant that you had to reverse into my car to make this work, huh.”
He shrugged casually. “It was the only way.” 
You laughed quietly, finishing the last of your drink. Time was getting on, it was pretty late, Seokjin had already finished his, you watched him sit up to lean forward and place the glass on your coffee table. His shirt tightened across his shoulder blades and you could see his back muscles as he stretched. Oh.  
Settling back into the same position, he looked over at you and grinned. His teeth were perfect. Did this man have zero flaws? Why were you so whipped? It was embarrassing. 
“I had fun tonight,” you told him, trying to keep a lid on whatever was going on with you right now. 
He seemed pleased with that, nodding his head. “I’m happy to hear that you think I’m a fun person.” 
You scoffed, body falling closer to his. Your shoulders brushed together. Seokjin didn’t take his eyes off you. “Hm. I don’t think I said that.” 
“Hey, don’t be so mean.” He murmured, one side of his mouth quirking up. 
Like you couldn’t stop yourself, your hand reached for the collar of shirt. He had the top two buttons loose and your pinkie finger brushed against his collarbone. Sparks flew, but you tried to ignore them. “I thought you liked it when I was mean.” You teased, voice low. 
Seokjin hummed, his eyes still twinkled like they always did but there was something else to them, a depth that made you feel funny. He sunk closer to you. So close you could study the thick curve of his eyelashes, notice that both his eyelids were different. He really did have beautiful eyes. You could stare at them forever. 
Preoccupied, you slowly realised that he was watching you too, studying your features in the golden glow of the floor lamp that hovered over the couch. His lips parted, you heard them rather than saw it, but then your attention was on them again. Just like it had been earlier on in the night. He was staring at yours too as he spoke. “I wanted to kiss you last week.” 
You heartbeat quickened but you tried to keep cool. “You did kiss me.” You laughed. 
He sighed. “On the cheek.”  
You lightly tugged his collar, fingertips now brushing the skin of his chest. “Isn’t that what you said you wanted to do?”
You could feel his own heartbeat against your forearm that was pressed into him. It was definitely running a little faster than it was supposed to – stronger. “Yes, but…” He glanced up to your eyes. “I was just being polite. I wanted to kiss your lips.”
It felt like you were holding your breath. Maybe you were, you just couldn’t think straight. Time seemed to stretch out, but you knew what you wanted. So you went after it. Giving him a small smile, you replied. “Maybe I wanted that too.” 
He swallowed, voice so low now it was barely a murmur. “Is that an invitation?” His eyes bounced to your lips again, then back to your eyes as he asked permission. “Can I kiss you?”
You ever so slightly dragged your bottom lip beneath your teeth as you nodded, breath catching in your throat as Seokjin leaned forward and closed the distance between you. The hand in between your bodies moved to delicately hold the wrist of your arm against his chest, holding you there as his other hand reached for your jaw, angling your face to press a kiss to your mouth. His eyes were already closed so you followed. 
He hummed at the contact, his lips soft and warm and you let yourself sink. His actions were light at first, faint as he kept constant pressure, as if he was familiarising himself with the sensation. You couldn’t even let yourself think about how this was the first kiss you’d shared with someone for a very long time. All that was going through your mind was how good it felt to be touched like this by him. 
He readjusted the hand on your face, tucking some hair behind your ear to cup your cheek. You liked that. You liked it when he touched you, and he eased from your mouth completely before coming back with a firmer pressure. It was your turn to make a sound; a tiny gasp as your lips began to move together ever so slowly. He liked that, a hum of satisfaction vibrating against the soft skin of your lips. You clutched at his shirt, gathering the crisp cotton in your fist, that would surely turn it creased, but he didn’t seem to mind. He was too preoccupied with reaching for the glass you’d forgotten was hugged to your body by your free hand. 
He unclasped it from your fingers and had no choice but to break away from your mouth to put it next to his on the coffee table. You whined, attempting to tug him back to you, and he chuckled, taking a hold of one of your hands. “I’ll be back,” he whispered, leaning forward to place the cocktail glass down. 
And he was. 
This time he used both of his hands to grasp your face and dive back in. He was more confident this time, moving in such a way his lips pried yours open. You reached for his shoulders, grasping them to hold him closer and this time you both made noises – sweet, quiet ones that worked beautiful together as your lips moulded with gradual urgency. 
When your hands found the nape of his neck, fingers through his hair, he had to drag the tip of his tongue across your bottom lip, seeking entry. You met it with yours, tasting hints of pomegranate and lime with each wash of tongue. A hand of his slipped down to your side, stroking up and down the curve as if he couldn’t help but to touch you. He settled at your hip after a moment, the other splayed against the side of your neck, his thumb rolling small circles under your cheekbone. 
This was getting addictive. You could tell by the way you moaned softly against each warm, wet curl of his tongue. This was everything you’d imagined and more – because you had imagined it. Late and secretly at night when you were trying to drift off to sleep and thoughts of lasagne were banished… You were glad your first kiss was here, inside, on your couch, because this wasn’t something for the open, your knees wouldn’t have been able to hold you up. 
You could have kissed him forever, you mean, you definitely didn’t want it to stop but you pretty much had to. Breathing was a necessity, right? If you couldn’t breathe you wouldn’t be able to ever kiss Seokjin again and that would be absolutely awful… 
You did it the right way though – gradually. Seokjin slowed it right down, only hints of his tongue left as he hummed indulgently, like he was savouring your taste before he had to inevitably pull away. It made your insides jump around like crazy, hearing him enjoying himself, and you tried your best to come to when he started easing the pressure of his lips, pressing small, chaste kisses to them instead as you ultimately (but slowly) broke apart. 
You opened your eyes, blinking up at him, hands falling from his hair, aware you had become one with your cushions. You struggled to free yourself as he sat back and you watched him smile fondly at you. His breath was shaky – so was yours, and you were sure his hands trembled slightly as one reached up to scratch the back of his neck. His neck that was blotched with red, flushed, travelling to his cheeks. They were rosier than you’d ever seen them before. Your gut stirred. 
“I’ve been dreaming of that,” he told you, before making a face at himself. “Too cringey?” 
You giggled – it sounded foreign. “Just a bit.” But didn’t deter the fact you loved it. 
You warmed when you felt him squeeze your hip, realising his hand was still there and you reached for it, tangling your fingers with his. He pulled them to his mouth, kissing your knuckles softly. His expression was thoughtful when he lowered your hands. “In all seriousness, thank you for giving me a chance, after well, you know, everything.”
You smiled, touched by his earnestness, but it was hard to keep a sane mind when his lips were as kiss bitten as they were – deep pink and glistening. You wanted to kiss his face off. 
“It’s no problem,” you quipped, as if you were doing him a favour. 
He chuckled tenderly, and luckily for you he was unable to stop himself from kissing you again. He reached forward, hooking a finger under your chin to press his mouth to yours softly. “I’d really love if we could keep on doing… this.” He murmured. 
“The dating or the kissing,” you grinned, stealing another kiss in the process. 
“Hm,” he contemplated. “Both preferably.” 
And then you were on one another again, eager once more. 
Although, you did manage to pull away briefly to tell him something, his mouth moving to the side of your face to kiss there instead as your hands dragged down his back. You were somehow able to get the words out – ones that made him laugh against your wet jaw. 
“I’m so glad you hit my car.” 
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Written 2020 - 2021.  Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021
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boldlyvoid · 3 years
Text
New Romantics | Part Four
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18+
Summary: She needs help studying for her Case Exercises at the Academy, He needs a date for the annual Banquet... they just so happen to be neighbours who aren't afraid to lend a helping hand, or in this case, a helping kiss.
Categories: Fake dating, neighbours, strangers to lovers, mutual pining, Angst with a happy ending, Smut *as selected by my poll on what you wanted to read*
Warnings: Season 9 Spencer (no Maeve arc), Angst, kissing, drinking, police training mentions, case details, canon typical violence, self-doubt, autistic!spencer, age gaps (24/33), FWB relationships, anxiety attacks, crying, misunderstandings, oral sex (both), penetrative sex, Perv!Spencer low-key, public sex, quickies, multiple orgasms,
Word Count: 5k
a/n: what could possibly go wrong next?
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | epilogue
She’s been asleep barely 2 hours when he shakes her awake, “Hey, when did you need to get ready today?”
“Uh?” She sits up and rubs her eyes, “we don’t have to leave until 1 so, like 11?”
“It’s 8:30, did you want to stay and sleep more?”
She looks at him and sighs, “are we okay?”
He nods, “can we just call it even?”
“Sure,” she agrees without knowing what she did wrong. It was more than just snapping on Tuesday, which is what she was still hurt over. “But I’m going to go, I need to change and stuff.”
“Yeah,” he nods but his smile is sad and she knows she’s fucking it up more.
She gets out of his bed, once it was the warmest bed she’s ever known. Any bed she shared with him was, but now it felt cold and uninviting and there was an unspoken knowingness that they were both genuinely upset.
“I’m still your fake girlfriend for the next 24 hours… can we make them count?” She asks, avoiding eye contact so he can't see her cry if he says no.
“Come here?”
She gets back into the bed and she cuddles into his chest. He holds her for a moment, “you’ve been the best girlfriend in the whole world. Do you really still want to be friends after this? Have I fucked up that bad?”
“Oh honey,” she places a hand on his cheek and looks at him softly, “I will be your neighbour, your best friend, your co-worker, carpool buddy, coffee friend, girlfriend, whatever you need as long as you’d like to have me around.”
He remembers the first time she said that and she knows because his smile is the same. “I love you.”
It hurts, “I love you, too.”
She kisses him quickly, attempting to pull back when his fingers grip her hair and his tongue is on her lips and she’s following his lead again.
“No,” she whispers, “I can’t.”
“Oh,” he stops and his hands drop to his sides so she can get back up.
“I’m going to go get ready, but I’ll come back when I’m done?”
“Yeah,” he nods again.
It breaks her heart to get up and go, she grabs her shoes and she sneaks out of his room, finding her keys in her pocket, she opens her own door and cries the second the door closes.
She cries in the shower, she cries while fixes her hair, she cries while she has lunch. Every song reminds her of the situation, every section of her apartment reminds her of him, the stupid door where they first kissed is closed and she wishes he was stable enough to bang on it and demand an answer.
Whatever was going on between them was reaching a bubbling over point, she can only store so much emotion before she explodes on him.
As soon as she is in her dress, makeup on and ready to go, she walks into his apartment to find him struggling with his bowtie, it makes her smile for the first time since she left his room this morning, “need help?”
“Yes, please.”
She walks over to him and repeats the same movements he attempted, making the bow look pretty before smoothing her hands over his dress shirt and looking up at him. “Handsome as ever.”
“You’re always beautiful,” he compliments her right back but his voice is still as sad as the night before.
“Are you ever going to tell me what’s going on in there?” She pries, tapping his temple with her index finger, “you’re my best friend and I don’t like seeing you sad.”
“I heard what you said yesterday,” he whispers, “about how if you were just using someone you would have picked Derek.”
“And?” She doesn’t get why it’s a big deal because it makes perfect sense to her in her mind.
“And it hurt me,” he snaps, “quite a lot!?”
And the dam breaks.
“Because I proved to them that I’m not using you? Spencer do you know what I meant by that?” She snaps right back.
“What else could it mean?! Clearly I’m not hot enough for you to just fuck and toss aside—”
“I meant that I love you and that’s why I’m with you! If I was just using someone for a job then I’d fuck Derek cause he’s a one and done, toss them to the side and never see them again, kind of guy!”
“And?” He repeats her word choice in a snippy tone that makes her furious but she knows he’s just trying his best to understand her.
She sighs loudly and obnoxiously, “and you’re a take him to meet your mom, marry and have his babies, love him for the rest of your life and one day scatter his ashes, kind of lover.” Crying by the end, she wipes her tears and tries to stay somewhat presentable-looking.
He’s silent, eyes wide as he takes in all her words, “I have always loved you,” she adds, “and no matter how fucking angry I am or how stressed or upset, I am never going to stop loving you, Spencer.”
“Me either,” his tone is still just as upset, “and that's the part that sucks.”
“What do you mean?” She just poured her heart out to him and he still doesn’t get it.
“I LOVE YOU!” He screams it at her with his hands thrown in the air, “I love you more than I’ve loved anyone in my entire fucking life and it’s driving me crazy!”
“It’s driving you crazy?” She can’t help but laugh like she’s losing her mind, “I have been doing everything in my power to make you understand that I love you and you keep thinking I just want to be friends!”
“Because you said you loved me like a friend the first time?!”
“No, I fucking didn’t!” She is so frustrated she’s turning the same colour as her dress, steaming from her ears like a cartoon character.
“I asked if best friends can be in love because I wanted to see if you would say you loved me more than that, and then you fucking said “yeah cause that’s how I love you” which means you love me as a friend?!”
“Because I thought that’s what you wanted?!”
She can’t rub her eyes cause she’ll ruin her makeup but she is so mad she just wants to scream. Pressing her fingers to her own temples, she turns away from him and sighs, she loves him so much and yet this is the most frustrating thing that’s ever happened.
“You are so lucky,” she just laughs, shaking her head back and forth as she turns back to him, “you are so fuckin’ lucky.”
“Why?”
She wraps her arms around his middle and looks up into his eyes with one last sigh, “we have to go or we’ll be late, so I can’t explain all of my feelings right now, so let’s bench this conversation and I can show you just how much I love you when we get back?”
“Okay,” he nods. He rests his hands on her arms and he looks down with the softest glance, he’s still trying so hard to not cry. “I’m really sorry.”
“So am I, I should have listened to you better and explained myself more,” she whispers, “do you believe me now?”
He nods, “I told you, it’s hard for me.”
“I tried my best to be subtle so I didn’t scare you off, but I guess you really don’t do subtle?” She can’t help but laugh, “but I really do love you.”
His hands are on her cheeks, pulling her into a kiss, she melts against him. He breathes her in, it’s the longest and deepest kiss she’s ever had and she honestly feels like he’s taking her soul and making her his. She belongs to him and she knows it, now he does too.
“I love you, too.”
All eyes are on her and it makes him smile, she’s the only one in a red dress in a room full of black and white, she stands out like a sore thumb. She looks the most beautiful, she stands beside Spencer with her arm wrapped around his and a huge smile on her face, it makes him even happier to see her smile again.
The hardest part of fighting with her was knowing she was upset and that he was only making it worse. Seeing her smile return is everything to him, he loves her more than words can express and she loves him right back, he can tell by the way she smiles at him; because it’s exactly the same way he’s smiling at her.
“I see that you’ve made up,” Derek interrupts their current dance to say hello.
The BAU team was always so busy on nights like this, they had all the best stories and everyone wanted to hear them, which meant they typically didn’t see each other a lot for the whole night.
“We did,” Spencer smiles. “Thank’s Derek.”
She looks up at them both, confused, “how many of them know?”
“Huh?” He plays dumb but she can see right through him.
“Do they all know I’m not really your girlfriend or is it just Aaron, Derek and whoever else you told?”
“Elle,” he says her name. “I told the first girl I slept with that I was falling in love with you because I needed advice from someone who has already been with me and knows how I get.”
“Sick, cool, love that for you,” she smiles and walks away.
He grabs her and she stops, “I told you how much it hurt that I had no one to talk to and you told all of them? And you couldn’t even tell me you really loved me this whole time? I thought we were best friends Spencer?” She shakes her head, disappointed more than anything, swatting his hand off her as he reaches to stop her.
“Let her go, she’s right to be a little mad,” Derek holds him back. “let her be mad.”
“Why?” Spencer is so new to relationships he doesn’t know what he’s doing.
“She wants to be your girlfriend for real, let her calm down and then go apologize and ask her,” Derek's smile is sweet as he pulls Spencer into a hug.
It slowly becomes a dance, everyone is used to Derek being touchy with his friends, he has danced with everyone so far tonight so it’s only fair Spencer has a turn. Spencer holds him tight, eyes closed so he doesn’t have to think about all the attention he’s been getting since they arrived.
“Thank you for always being here for me,” he whispers, “but I have to go see her.”
“Fights like this just make your relationship stronger, it teaches you how she wants you to communicate, she just wants you to be honest with her, always,” he whispers with his cheek pressed to Spencer's, “and angry make-up sex is really fun.”
It makes him laugh, “thanks, but she won’t be sleeping with me for a few days, if my memory is correct then she’s mad for more than one reason.”
“Ah,” Derek gets it, “good luck my friend. Good luck.”
When Spencer pulls away, he heads in the direction Y/N left and follows the hallway as far as it goes. She’s sitting on a bench by a window, staring off at the night sky as she takes some deep breaths. She looks a little more peaceful, she’s had a really rough few weeks and he’s not making it any easier on her.
“I know two things for sure,” he speaks softly but she still jumps a little as she turns to him.
“What would they be?”
“That you’re the love of my life,” he’s confident as he sits on the bench beside her and takes her hand in his. “And I’m an idiot when it comes to love.”
“That is quite the dilemma,” she smirks, her eyes gleam as she looks at him and he knows she was trying not to cry by how glossy they are, but it makes her more beautiful, somehow.
“I’m really sorry.”
“All you have to do is tell me the truth, Spencer,” she places her hand on his leg and leans in with a whisper, “it’s really simple.”
“Truth is,” he whispers right back, lips close enough to kiss, “I’m never going to stop loving you, which means more stupid moments are in my future. Just so you know.”
She giggles and kisses him quickly, “I don’t mind being the smart one in the relationship, but you still have to ask.”
“Will you be my girlfriend and let me love you for the rest of my life, no matter how much I fuck up and drive you crazy?” He teases her, knowing she’ll say yes regardless.
“On one condition,” she can’t hide the smirk on her face and he’s nervous at what she’s thinking.
“Anything?”
“You let me love you for just as long? If not longer.”
He nods, “forever?”
She nods back before kissing him just as deeply as they did that morning, her hands in his hair as she presses his face into her’s with force. She holds him there and breathes him in, pulling back with a classic smooch sound, she smiles again, “you’re my boyfriend now.”
He nods with a small smile, “what should we do first as boyfriend and girlfriend?”
She bites her lip and pretends to think about it for a moment, “fuck in the linen closet down the hall?”
“I don’t have any condoms on me?” Is his only worry, not getting caught, not that all their bosses and superiors were there, just that he didn’t have a condom.
She pulls one out of her bra with a smile, “Savannah gave this to me about 3 minutes before you came over here.”
“How much make-up sex do they have?” He asks as he takes her hand and leads her down the hallway.
She’s giddy and smiling, her heels click on the floor as they rush to the other end of the hall and open the little door. There are shelves with towels and rolls upon rolls of silverware in cloth napkins. A vacuum in the corner, some brooms and just enough room for them.
She pulls him in closer and shuts the door, reconnecting their lips as she pushes him up against it. Hands reaching for his belt she kisses down his neck and he’s like putty in her hands as soon as she strokes him, he moans by accident and she covers his mouth with her free hand.
“Do you have any idea how turned on you make me? I have wanted to fuck you since I first saw you, 6 years ago…”
“Really?” His muffled voice behind her hand makes her laugh. She removes her hand and instead runs her fingers through his hair while taking a moment to look at him and really take it all in.
“Yeah,” she nods, “which is why I asked to sleep with you on the way home from the bar, I didn’t know if I could handle it either it, but I’ve always wanted Doctor Reid from the BAU to rail me. I just didn’t think we’d end up falling in love?”
“No one has ever admitted to having a crush on me and meant it,” he whispers.
“I’m glad I get to be one of your firsts,” she smiles again before he pulls her into another kiss.
She kisses the side of his mouth and then his jaw, down his neck and then she’s dropping to her knees in front of him. He’s hard in her hands but he twitches as he sees her like this, looking up at him with lust-blown eyes as she strokes him, she flattens her tongue and taps the tip of his cock to it.
He has to cover his own mouth or else he’s going to get them caught, he moans at the feeling, closing his eyes and that's when she takes him in her mouth. His free hand is in her hair, careful not to mess it up but enough grip to steady himself.
He tilts his head back against the door with a knock and a sign, “fuck,” he can’t help but talk into his hand which only makes it sound louder in the tight space.
She feels so good every single time and yet this one feels different, he looks down at her and she pulls off, “what’s wrong?”
“I love you,” he shrugs.
He helps her back up to her feet and she backs up against the shelves, “come here?”
He helps her hike her dress up, holding all the material up as he slips her underwear off and takes that condom back out of her bra with a single kiss to her chest. He rolls it over himself and lines up with her, her arms wrap around his shoulders as she looks at him, “show me how much you love me?”
He slides in and they don’t break eye contact as she takes him, her mouth opens in a silent gasp at the feeling, her hands grip his shoulders tighter as she steadies her ass on a shelf and wraps her legs around him while he bottoms out.
With a hand on her cheek and one on her lower back, he pulls out and thrusts back in with a smile as she bites back a moan, she pulls his face in close to hers to kiss him while he fucks her. The hand on his cheek slides down her neck, applying a small amount of pressure that makes her breathing hitch. She swallows sharply before his hand starts to trail over her breasts and then between them.
With a thumb on her clit, he fucks her a little harder while rubbing his thumb in a circle. She’s breathing heavily into his mouth, placing sloppy kisses against each other as they enjoyed each other.
She’s so close and he knows it, and then there is a knock on the door.
“Spence, we have a case when you’re done?” He hears Derek's voice behind the door and he can’t believe it.
“Okay!” He calls back without stopping, instead, he fucks into her a little faster.
“Oh!” She moans by accident before covering her mouth with a slap and wide eyes, moaning behind her hand as she bounces on his cock.
He kisses her hand, making her move it so he can press his lips back to hers and absorb all the noises she was going to make, her hands both reach for his back, gripping his suit jacket so tight he’s afraid she might rip it.
She cums with a shocked gasp, it’s as quiet as possible but it still echos around them as he gets closer and closer. He buries his face in her neck and accidentally moans as well as he cums, stilling his hips as he holds her there, sputtering his hips against hers as they catch their breath.
“I love you,” he manages to say between breaths, “that much.”
“You need to go,” she smiles.
He kisses her one last time before he pulls out, he loves the way she gasps every time he does so. She smiles after, their teeth clashing as they laugh, “I’m going to get in so much trouble.”
“I’m never going to get a job,” she shakes her head as she gets off the shelf and fixes her dress.
He takes off the condom and wraps it in some paper towel on the shelf, he’ll get rid of it later. She picks up her underwear, he thinks she puts them back on, but she really slides them into his pocket for him to find in the middle of the case when he reaches for something important...
She rides back to headquarters with Penelope and JJ, both of them want to ask and she knows it. Mainly because she looks like she’s had sex, and also because she asks to stop at the academy so she can get another pair of underwear from her locker.
It’s not until they’re in Penelope’s office that they ask, “what’s it like?”
“What’s what like?” She plays dumb.
“Dating Spencer?” Penelope says, “more specifically, having sex with him?” She mumbles and it makes Y/N laugh.
“In total, we’ve been having sex for 3 weeks now and I’ve had 21 orgasms, and we only really fuck on the weekends cause that’s when we’re not busy…” she grinds her teeth slightly with a raised brow, taking a deep breath, “yeah. It’s really great.”
“Holy shit?” They both look more shocked than she’s ever seen them. “How many has he had?” Penelope asks with a quiet voice, pretending she didn’t.
She laughs slightly, “like maybe 14? He’s really generous.”
“What the fuck?” JJ turns to Penelope and shakes her head and there’s something more there that Y/N can sense.
“Who’s Elle?” She asks and they both turn to her with the biggest eyes.
“How do you know about Elle?”
“She’s the first person he slept with?”
“When?” They both shout.
“So he wasn’t kidding. You guys really thought he was a virgin this whole time?” She looks at them like they’re crazy. “How?”
They both just shake their heads and sigh, stuttering and looking for words they don’t have. “We just never thought he could?”
“Snooze ya loose, I guess?” She shrugs, “so what is the case and how can I help?”
“Right! We have a case,” Penelope snaps back into it, “but seriously Elle? Are you sure you have your names right?”
“Penelope,” she looks at her seriously.
“Right, they’re headed to Roanoke.”
There was a child abduction of a 6-year-old girl, CARD and the BAU were both called out and that meant everyone was mingling on the two floors and they would use as much help as possible.
It also turns out that Anderson’s surrogate went into labour a little earlier than anyone expected; so he and his husband have left for paternity leave early. Leaving JJ without an assistant and she really needs help in the office for this one.
She catches on rather quickly, knowing the protocols from her training and she’s not afraid to ask questions. She’s still in her dress, her heels click on the tiles as she rushes around with files, making phone calls and running from the briefing room to Penelope’s office.
When they finally crack the case and apprehend the suspect, she sits down finally. It’s been 11 hours since the banquet, and she was exhausted beyond belief. She never slept the night before, Spencer was uncomfortable and she was in her jeans and when she did fall asleep, he was waking her up moments later to get ready.
It's Sunday morning at 9 am when Spencer finally returns back at headquarters. She’s sitting at his desk when he comes up and wraps his arms around her, “we’re going home, come on.”
“Don’t you have to debrief?”
“Did that on the way back,” he turns her around in the role chair and tilts her head up to look at him, she’s so tired and he can tell. “You have a big day tomorrow.”
“Ugh,” she stands up with his help, “I did enough profiling today and now I have a whole week to get through.”
“Just to come back and work here,” he smiles, “if you still want to?”
She wraps him up in a real hug and nods against him, “it’s so fun, even with all the murder.”
“Coming home to this is really nice,” he whispers before kissing her cheek quickly, “I’m glad you like it here.”
“Well, well, well,” Derek's voice is behind them. They pull away to see him smiling, arms wide as he saunters over, “if it isn’t the new romantics.”
“Did you have any suspicions?” Y/N asks, he was a profiler after all.
“I knew something was up,” he’s honest. “I knew you guys were actually doing stuff together, I just didn’t think there was so much angst behind closed doors?”
“You have no idea,” Y/N laughs, holding Spencer closer, “it took too long.”
“I thought you were fighting about the job, cause he wasn’t really upset until you were in Penelope’s office, and I heard the rumours even before he heard what you said,” Derek smiles again, “but I also knew you loved him and he loves you.”
“Correct,” she can’t help but smile. “But we really should head home.”
“Home we go,” Spencer agrees.
She asks him to unzip her dress the second they’re back in her apartment. She drops the dress to the floor and heads to the bathroom and he’s left alone in her room. It feels different now. He remembers kissing her in the living room for the first time like it was yesterday, he remembers the first time they had sex, the first time he said I love you, and now he’s here and she’s his girlfriend and he’s going to get to make more memories with her.
He’s so embarrassed by how much he’s been crying lately, something about being in his mid-30s was making him feel like he was about to go through menopause— he has never been very openly emotional, but it’s about time he lets himself feel. He wipes the tears and turns to face the wall while he takes his suit off.
He’s been through too much, a lot of which she doesn’t know of. She has promised him forever, whether she means it or not, and he’s worried he’s going to fuck it up before he gets there.
When she comes back, she lays a towel down on her side of the bed and gets in, “guess who got her period on her first day of work?”
“No?” He gasps, playing along with her playful mood. “At least you’re not pregnant.”
“Thank god,” she sighs, “please for the love of God, don’t get me pregnant for at least 5 years? I want a decent career first so that I don't miss much on maternity leave. I really don't want to be benched for having kids.”
He cries again and she looks so concerned as she gets out of bed and wraps her arms around him, “what did I say wrong, Spencer?”
Still facing the wall, he just lets it all out, “I’m sorry.”
“For what, sweetheart?” She attempts to soothe him by running her hands down his arms, “for crying or something else?”
“Crying,” he whispers and she turns him around then.
“Hey,” she looks up at him with the softest expression he’s ever seen, “you are allowed to have emotions, you are allowed to show them and ask for help and tell me when you need something. I’m not going to think you’re too much, or I can’t handle you or think of you as a burden. I know that’s how you feel because it’s how I fell, and we don’t need to go through that together.”
“I love you,” it’s the only thing that feels right to say.
“I love you,” she repeats it, “what made you cry?”
“Can we get in bed first?”
“Yeah, finish getting ready and then come tell me,” she whispers before reaching up and pressing a kiss to his lips.
He slips away to go to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and washing his face. He’s exhausted but he doesn’t want to miss any time with her. He hurries back to her side, getting into bed in his underwear and making sure both his phones are on the night table, charged and ready if they need him.
But until then, he belonged to her.
“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep?” It’s the first thing he asks because he knows she has a big day tomorrow. “It can wait.”
“What’s that thing you say about intermittent sleep is actually better?”
“Don’t use my words against me, I do that so people don’t stop me from doing what I think I deserve,” he’s truthful. “I’m not going to ever lie or fib to you again. I hate myself, and if I don’t feel like I’ve done enough I won't sleep or eat sometimes.”
“I do that too,” she’s not proud, “are you trying to tell me you cried cause you’re hungry or tired?”
“No,” he smiles, “but thank you for asking for clarification, I like this new system.”
“Me too.”
“I cried because I really love you and I’m realizing this is all real and I’m going to get to make good memories with you, and when you said kids, even in a hypothetical sense, it made it feel real for me,” he whispers the words before pressing his lips together awkwardly.
She glows in the lap light like she did that first night, “it’s a weird concept, isn’t it? The future. At some point I’m going to have known you longer than anyone, one day we’ll have lived with each other longer than we’ve lived apart. We might be grandparents together one day? It’s all weird to think about.”
“Do you seriously want all that with me?” He’s asking because he has another question to ask right after.
“Yes, Spencer,” she laughs. “I really do.”
“Would you like to Marry me?”
“Seriously?” Her eyes widen and her jaw drops and he’s never seen her look this stunned before.
He nods, “my mom isn’t going to able to appreciate my wedding the longer I wait, and if you really mean it; I’d like to have a wedding with my mom there while she remembers me.”
“I know her birthday is coming up, but can we bring her here instead?”
“Why?”
“My parents decided to drive from Salam to here for my graduation and use the flight money on a nice Airbnb for the week. We should do it while they’re all here because I don’t know when they’d be able to come back,” she has had the same worries about her parents missing her life.
“I’ll ask my mom,” he smiles. “So we’re getting married?”
“in like a week,” she laughs, “oh fuck, how are we going to do that in a week?”
He rolls over and grabs his personal phone, he dials a number and she looks even more confused now.
“Hey Penelope, how fast can you plan a wedding?”
~
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New Romantics:
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awakeshedreams · 3 years
Text
sugar and spice ( 2 )
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pairing : resident bad boy!jjk x model student!reader
setting : highschool!au x stepbrother!au
summary :
a messy highschool!au x stepbrother!au where model student reader who has quite a few dirty little secrets sees her world take an unexpected turn when her mother comes home one day with an engagement announcement, to the father of none other than the school’s resident bad boy…. Jeon Jungkook.
genre : smut, for laughs, kinda pornish, slow burn with collosaly overwhelming sexual tension
rating: soft m ( for now ) due to adult content
warnings : unconventional relationship of sexual nature, tropes and clichès, teenagers partaking in porn-esque activities, made up things with made up people happening in a made up world, don’t like don’t read XD
wordcount : 3k
a/n: honestly overwhelming response for the first part. thank you so much 💜💜💜😳
here's the second.
somehow, this took up a new genre for itself while editing and became sort of a bit enemies to friends to partners in sin.
that is to say, I have a template for this but this could go any ( dirty ) way.
let me know if you like this and are curious to know how things play out.
also, spot the cameo. it's so dumb but still. I couldn't think of anything else.
enjoy.
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Paranoia was an old friend of yours.
Very real, very scary and not very nice to you, your peace of mind or your tested soul.
In your head, you already played out a million different ways the image you’d spent years building could come falling apart.
All because of him. Jeon Jungkook.
Though much to your surprise and fortune- he didn’t tell anyone.
You spent the entire weekend fretting over nothing.
It was almost like none of it ever happened.
Like your parents weren't about to tie the knot soon. Like you weren’t about to become step siblings.
Like he didn't walk in on his said step sister to be masturbating in front of a camera.
In the aftermath of that inexplicably humiliating incident, you had to make up some dumb excuse to satiate your viewers for ending the stream so abruptly.
It was your cat they heard speaking, you told them.
Cats don’t speak of course, certainly not in a deep baritone. But they were effectively distracted by the string of full nudes you posted soon after that.
Those few accusatory comments saying that you did have a boyfriend after all were buried by those coming from very horny people who were over the moon about the little apology gift.
That was out of the way, but you had a more pressing matter at hand.
That night, Jungkook had walked out after saying what he had to say without another word, leaving you feeling stunned and oddly cold.
It was like all the heat in your body just ceased to exist the moment he closed the door behind him and left you there all on your own. You didn’t even get to finish but that was beside the point.
The point was, you thought that meant like with many other things, and as people should since this was a free world, he didn’t give a shit what you did with your free time or your body.
But as the days progressed, you couldn’t help but wonder if you were gravely mistaken.
Because contrary to that, he seemed to be up to something.
These days, he came around very often. Completely unprovoked and on his own accord.
It didn’t help that your mom loved having him around and feeding him.
Sometimes he was there for lunch after school. Other times he was there to fucking read the books in the study.
It was all ridiculous and quite honestly it was starting to get on your fraying nerves.
He didn’t even live there! You grumbled in pure frustration internally every time your mom asked you to add an extra plate for him on the dining table. This was your place!
Intentional or not he seemed to just love spending his time at your house for some reason.
But that just wouldn’t do.
The thing was you didn't know how to tell him you’d like to have the peace of mind he’d robbed you of by being all up in your living space every other day back.
He couldn’t just keep coming around.
Things were awkward enough without you having to see him often so already in between fleeting glimpses at school and lingering glances over the occasional dinner.
He might have been able to play it cool because it didn’t matter to him but this was a big deal for you.
He knew your secret and what else were you to do but be on edge and fidgety around him even though it seemed like he wouldn’t say a word of it?
But in the end, you couldn’t voice out your concerns. Not to him and certainly not to your mom.
So you were stuck here.
In between a massive rock and a very hard place.
Forced to endure even though you really felt like you’d been pushed past your limit.
Because he was there all the time.
For the most random reasons doing the most random things at the most random places at the most random time.
One time he had been casually listening to music while smoking by the pool and stroking the strings of his damned, matte black guitar.
You had been so stressed from all the work at school with the elections for new committee members amongst the juniors coming up so you thought to go for a swim to relax your self.
You honestly thought no one was around.
It was a Wednesday at noon so your mother was at lunch with some friends from high school. Plus, in the back of your mind, you’d reasoned that Jungkook usually only ever came over when she was around.
So you put on your best little bikini, grabbed a floatie and a soft drink and you went out.
Only to pause when you saw him sitting on one of the white lounging chairs, just looking at you with his earphones on, fingers having stilled mid strumming with a soft veil of smoke over his face.
You didn’t need to think twice to turn back.
There had been something about how his heavy lidded gaze took you in through the smoke as he did that thing where he cocked his head to the side that made you step back and quickly go back in.
You felt yourself get impossibly hotter when you realized you were probably giving him an eyeful of your poorly covered ass in motion.
You knew he was looking. You could feel his stare. Heavy. Intent. Dark. Swirling.
Like when he'd walked in on you.
You were hot and bothered the entire day.
In the end you couldn’t get anything productive done with a straight mind. And it was all his fault.
.
It took you about two weeks to crack.
That particular evening you were decided on telling your mom about this dilemma you were in.  
Coincidentally, your mom had gone and invited him and his dad over for dinner.
Great. Just great.
You had no choice but to deeply consider the possibility of having to spill the beans another time.
Because choosing now to tell your mom meant you would probably need to tell his dad as well since they were attached at the hip every time he came over.
But no, you wouldn’t expose him in front of his father too. You weren’t cruel. Also you didn’t need the school's menace resenting you for making his strict, uptight dad turn on him.
If he didn’t have a reason to expose you before, he certainly would have one if things spiraled out that way.
So you bit your bitter tongue.
This time around, dinner was a more relaxed affair.
The weather was nice so your mom decided on a barbeque at your back yard.
This meant you wore a flowy sun dress like your mom did and he wore a loose navy shirt with the sleeves rolled up and some black casual beach shorts.
His tattoos were on full display.
You stared.
You were only distracted by them and how the patterns dance on his skin when his muscles flex as he flips whatever he is cooking on the fire because she’s never seen them in full before, you strongly reasoned.
Even with his sleeves rolled up when he was uniform, you'd only seen what he had on his forearm briefly other than the ones on the back of his hand.
That night didn’t count. It was too dim to see well. Also, that night technically didn’t exist.
Your eyes were particularly drawn to the little something peeking out the collar of his shirt.
You were too busy trying to figure out whether the curling ink around his collar bone was the flick of flames or the end of a dragon’s tail to notice that he’d lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe at the dots of sweet at his brows.
When you do, you suddenly found yourself being given an eyeful of impossibly ripped, ridged pure muscle.
You almost dropped your glass like you did your jaw.
What the holy fuck?
At that exact moment, he lifted his gaze and caught you staring.
He was probably expecting you to look away. Any decent human would expect that if they caught someone staring at them so openly. Gawking, to be completely honest.
But you didn’t. You quickly recover, pulling yourself together, and you met his gaze squarely.
You clutched the drink in your hand tight. Your pride wouldn’t let you look away.
In your own way, it was your little pay back, weak as it was.
He held your gaze with an unreadable look on his face for a moment with that signature slight tilt to his head and an added lift to his brow, before he looked away. Wordlessly, he let his shirt fall to push his hair back with his hand and went back to grilling.
You let herself breath then and tried not to think about how his biceps flexed at the motion, how his hair slicked back made him look even more dangerous and how the little smirk you caught on his lips was making you feel things she shouldn’t be.
.
Your mom suggested you all hang out at the pool once you were done eating.
You hadn’t been there since that day with him and quite frankly, you would rather not be.
Not with him.
You knew your mom had a swimsuit underneath her dress. She made you wear one as well.
She probably told them to come prepared for a swim too.
Just thinking about it made you short circuit.
You tore your gaze away from where he was standing with his father at the poolside, staring blankly at the surface as the older man talked to him about something.
You'd just come back from clearing the table with your mom.
When you guys got close enough, the men look your way. Jungkook’s eyes immediately landed on you. Meanwhile you just stare at your mom, trying to ignore his inexplicably fixed attention on you.
‘It’s shame we can’t swim.’
Your mother said, reaching for her boyfriend’s hand. She gave Jungkook a soft, apologetic smile.
‘Maybe once the weather is not so chilly.’ She sighed regretfully. ‘If I had known you were sensitive to the cold I would have suggested something else.’
‘It’s fine.’ Your eyes flicker to him. The smile he puts on is small and polite. ‘I’m not a very good swimmer anyway I’m afraid.’
‘Nonsense.’ She dismissed in good nature. ‘I heard you were quite the athlete in middle school. It’s all your father ever talks about sometimes. Right, honey?'
His father just grumbled.
You couldn’t hide your surprise at this revelation. You didn’t know this before.
Jungkook was quiet for a moment. Then he smiles a little with a shrug.
‘That was in the past.’
Your eyes just glided to him when he said that.
The tug at his lip looked wry and sad.
You’d never seen him like this before.
Solemn. Sombre. Not serious or intimidating or indifferent.
It felt like you were viewing him in a new light.
.
You settled on drinks by the pool. It was what your mom does to lighten things up.
It seemed like the gloom from earlier wasn’t all part just a part of your imagination.
Her mother suddenly chirped in between the light conversation.
'Why don't you guys get together and have a little group study?'
You suppressed the urge to groan and roll your eyes to the back of your head. You knew what she was trying to do and you wanted no part in it.
You had the words no way sitting at the tip of you tongue.
You had the words no way sitting at the tip of you tongue.
He beat you to it.
'That sounds nice,' he dared to say, even politely addressing your mom with Mrs. alongside her surname in the end uttered just the way she liked. 'I'd like that.’
You gawked at him in disbelief. Complete and utterly speechless.
Was he insane ??
'Doesn't it? Great!' Your mom is over the moon. 'Dear, take him to the study. You guys can do your teenager things and get along over books there.'
.
Your mom was loving and caring and she only ever wanted the best for you. You knew this.
Maybe she wanted them to get to know each other. Or maybe she just wanted to have some alone time with her man.
Either way, she practically shoved you two into the house with so much enthusiasm you wondered if she really loved you because suddenly you found yourself stuck inside your house with the last person you wanted to be with and you did not feel safe or rested.
The walk up the spirally stairs to the study had got to be one of the most intense, dragging moments of your whole life.
He remained a few steps behind you all through out the journey, following your lead in his own leisured pace.
A few steps too damn far behind in your opinion.
From that angle, you had a strong inkling that he could see your underwear from beneath your dress.
You knew this because you were familiar with what it felt like when he was staring.
What you couldn’t quite explain is why you didn't do a thing about it.
.
If awkward silence could manifest into a solid form for being so intense, there would have been a third occupant in the room the moment you two walked into the study.
It would’ve been so massive, all the high shelves and wooden tables lined up would have been demolished.
Jungkook remained the quiet person he was, looking around and skimming through the books on the shelves.
You were standing a safe distance away from him, absently doing the same. The books were interesting and all but you were admittedly more taken by the ink on his skin.
Up close you could clearly see the artistic patterns and symbols etched onto him.
While staring at the tats on his knuckles you couldn't help but also notice that the titles he picked up were rather complex.
Certainly not the kind of thing even high intellects reached for. Evidently, those tomes had been collecting dust in there for ages.
You were decidedly curious. Itching to ask. Hell, dying to know.
You dived before you could overthink it and find reasons not to satiate your rabid curiosity.
'You like Reader?' he paused and looked at you from the corner of his eyes. At his questioning look she gesture to the book he was holding. 'That's the third book of theirs you picked up.'
'Yeah.' he said casually, nodding a little while flipping through it. 'Their books are nice.'
A crippling lapse of silence ensues.
You tore your gaze away from his profile to stare at the titles in front of you with a burn at your cheeks, fiddling with the polished spines.
How fucking awkward. All of this.
He probably felt the same.
What were you even doing?
You thought about telling him to ignore your mom’s attempt at trying to make the two of you get along. He obviously wasn’t looking for company or a friend. Quite frankly, neither were you. Certainly not from him. You were just trying to be not rude. Something you aren’t really surprised he probably failed to understand in all honesty.
But then he spoke, dragging you out of your reverie.
'What about you?'
Your head shot up and you found that he was standing a lot closer than before, having moved to reach for yet another complicated book to idly browse through at the top shelf.
This close, you could can smell him. Soft mint and clean soap and moonlight, not smoke. He disregarded the pages in his hands to give you a side way glance.
‘What do you like?’
There was a perpetual spark swimming in the dark depth of his eyes. It was striking. Pretty even.
When he lightly raised a brow at you, your thoughts jumbled all over before it fell back into place and you realized you were staring very openly.
But this time was different from the last time. When he had been miles away, flashing you his ripped abs.
In your reverie, you hadn’t notices that he had leaned a little to meet your eyes, and that he was real close. Like real close, looking at you intently with his head cocked to the side questioningly, like he was wondering what was going on inside your head. You could feel his breath fanning your face.
Shit.
'Uh,’ you scrambled for an answer, quickly tearing your gaze away from him to appraise the bookshelf. Your face felt like it was on fire. Considering how he hadn’t moved, he could probably see just how blazed in the face you were. Out of pure instinct, you grabbed a random book and shoved it into him to make some space in between your bodies.
Maybe with a little too much force. There was a dull thump and it made you wince.
'This.’
You hated how squeaky and breathless you sounded. Like you’d just ran a marathon. Might as well have, with how hard and fast your heart was pounding.
Jungkook took it from you, and you allowed yourself to look at him as he looked the cover over, completely fine, like you hadn’t just smacked him in the chest with a book.
The corner of his lips lifted a little as he flipped it over, cocking his head the other way before he chanced you a glance, making you blink rapidly and stand on edge.
'You sure?' he asked, sounding pretty amused. You were confused for a moment until he held  it up for you to see, flashing you a full on toothy grin like you’d never seen on him before. 'You like books about horse gentilia?'
The jump in your chest was something you quickly dismissed as being one of sinking dread rather than anything else.
All the color that had been congesting your face washed away.
If there was a time you truly wished the ground would swallow your entire existence whole, it would be right then and there.
 
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word is telling me I made up the word genitilia but I’m pretty sure it’s real because it just rolls off the tongue ( smooth ) like butter like a criminal under the cover.
the hole is one of the recurring characters so please be nice to it.
alot of things happening here if you squint and look closely.
any-whomst've, hope you all liked it. let me know if you did and I don't know come say hi? 😳 have a nice day 💜
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ackerfics · 3 years
Note
hange and their best friend (reader) "platonically" flirt with one another, they use pet names for each other, making others think they're together unintentionally. until reader finds an s/o, not knowing hange actually likes them
she — hange zoe
— hange zoe x female reader (modern au)
— warnings: angst ??? the stinging feeling you get when you see someone you love, love someone else
— summary: hange's best friend found love in the form of autumn while hange associates her with all of the seasons.
— word count: 2.5k
— notes: i love hange but i hate myself for writing something that hurts them :<<< they're my first love in aot and it pains me to imagine them hurting in any sort of way (which is probably the reason why i bawled my heart out in chap 132). this little fic hit too close at home for me bc it's exactly what i felt one time during high school. it's fucking traumatizing and istg, i don't want to relive falling in love with a friend again, it's like the most satisfying way to hurt, too. happy reading tho :<<<
reblogs are greatly appreciated!!
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She embodies everything positive in Hange’s eyes.
She is spring — the bursting of blossoms under the tendrils of sunlight seeping between the spaces of the trees in the woods. Every time Hange closes their eyes, they are reminded of how she signifies every single flower they ever know. She makes them feel everything at once — see every color at once in a single frame. There is no space for artistic abilities in Hange’s calloused, mismatched hands but when it comes to her, they can create a myriad of paintings encapsulating her beauty at every stroke of a brush. Her laughs, her flowery perfume that doesn’t hurt their nose, her smiles that are as radiant as the early morning Sun — are ingrained in their brain. She brings forth the butterflies that Hange carefully imprisoned in their ribs, the monarchs’ wings already seeping through the cracks at every joke she makes, reaching to their heart until every beat swayed to the sound of her giggles.
“Hange, the love of my life, there you are!”
Hange turned around with a huge smile on their lips. Their conversation with Levi came to an abrupt stop, with the shorter man mumbling along the lines of ‘here we go again’. The small smile on his face spoke otherwise while watching two of his closest friends hug each other as if they didn’t live together in an apartment right outside of campus. It was such a mystery that Hange could be so comfortable around someone to the point of playfully kissing their neck in public, followed by their best friend’s melodious laughs soon after. However, Levi couldn’t be fooled. He knew the glint in the brown-haired person’s eyes. The downturn of their eyebrows when their best friend wasn’t looking. The longing was apparent when she was talking to someone across the room.
The idiot going by the name Hange Zoe was irrevocably in love with their best friend, [Name] [Last Name].
“What is it, baby?” Hange asked vibrantly, glasses reflecting the equally excited girl in their arms. “Didn’t know your class dismissed this early. What happened?”
“Nothing. Our professor announced that we should visit a museum for our finals.” She then mimicked the haughty tone of her Art History professor, straightening her back to make herself appear taller. “Choose a painting or a sculpture and trace down its history and attach your critique in the final output. If I see anyone half-assing this paper, I will not hesitate to give a failing grade that will make you retake this class. I know you lot don’t want to see me again for another semester and I don’t want to see you again, too. So, prove to me you’re worth your standing in this course.” She cleared her throat. “What he said.”
Hange whistled. “Dang, I’m happy that I didn’t follow you to the Arts Department. Your professor sounds like a complete asshole.” They chortled the next second. “Sounds like my mom, to be honest.”
“At least your mom makes a bomb bento box.”
“Yeah, I guess, you’re right.” Hange then nuzzled their face in her hair. “But your bento boxes taste much more delicious — I could eat them all day. Can I be your partner so that you’ll cook for me every day?”
“I’ve already taken the position of your wife the moment I agreed to be your roommate in university, sweetheart. And I cook for you every single day so you don’t have to ask to be my partner because you already are.”
Hange looked smug at her reply, the heat in their cheeks traveling to their ears. “That was a rhetorical question but hearing those words come out of your mouth, it’s making me feel things.”
“Oh? What are those things?”
The brown-haired person snickered under their breath, glancing at Levi who was now looking at the two of them in that lazy way of his that might come off as him being annoyed again. In reality, he was only waiting for the two to finally stop flirting to recognize he was there. His daily job of being a third-wheel should’ve started fifteen minutes ago but Hange wouldn’t let [Name] go. Hange turned back to the expectant girl. “I don’t want Levi to hear what I’m about to say. Just expect something back at the apartment,” they joked, a cheeky smile tugging at their lips.
[Name] laughed heartily. “I’m looking forward to that, gorgeous.”
“I’m still here, you know?” Levi dryly made himself known. He huffed and turned around in the direction of the university restaurant. “Come on, lovebirds, let’s have lunch. Oh, and [Name]?” When he heard her little hum of acknowledgment, Levi slightly turned around to meet his friend’s eyes with his jaded ones. “It’s your turn to buy me a drink. Make it a venti today.” She only blinked at him, giving him no choice but to resort to that dumb thing she always asked. “Please can I have a venti this time? I got you and Hange a venti last time so this makes us even.”
“Ooh, make mine a venti, too, baby!” Hange squeezed their best friend’s waist.
“Anything for my sweetheart.”
“Again, I’m right here, you know.”
Just the thought of that little scenario hurts Hange.
But as much as the pain comes in the package, she is still summer in their eyes.
The Sun can’t compare to the brilliance of her smile. Kind smiles and gentle touches under the warm rays of the summer heat. Her scent is yellow to Hange — so bright and warm that they don’t care how long they bask in her presence, never caring if they get burned because it feels so right to be within her orbit. She urges them to feel so loved and so special, tender caresses of her warmth cascading down every vein until it reaches their heart. The cerulean waters of the sea hold nothing against the beauty of her grins, brown eyes searching for her every time of the day no matter how ethereal the world painted itself to be. Viewing the sights with rose-colored glasses is what they may call it but for Hange, it’s simply her. Someone once said that summer brings forth a paradise where blue covers everything in its wake, the cry of the seagulls reverberating in the distance, and the scent of ice cream flickers in the breeze. For Hange, summer is in the form of pretty close-lipped smiles, of late-night movie marathons on a worn-out couch, of bento boxes filled with their favorites, of a scent so saccharine, and a loyal friend.
A friend.
Of course. No matter where Hange goes, that word haunts them. Hidden beneath their smiles, their jokes, their longing, and admiring stares. It’s a reminder of where they stand in this limbo they created. At one point, they thought that line had been crossed only for it to be established again in permanent ink. And before they know it, Hange is tumbling down in a spiral, along with a change of seasons.
Fall is where everything started.
The orange glow of the leaves created the perfect view as she sipped on her tall cup of warm coffee. The blissful sigh that came soon after warmed up Hange, even though they were seated in front of each other in the outside tables of the small cozy café where Levi was working at. The chill brought by the autumn wind caused both of them to shiver in their layered clothing. The way she nuzzled more into her scarf made Hange coo, reaching out to pinch her cheek affectionately. Autumn was both their favorite season, how it made them resort to the comfort and warmth their sweaters bring, or how they cuddle in each other’s beds with the air conditioner blasting despite the cold. It was also a season where Hange could admire her in their hoodie, a piece of clothing that swallows her whole because she’s so small compared to their lanky figure.
Hange remembered being called out here because she wanted to talk about something. Now that they thought about it, her cheeks appear to be glowing more than usual and she kept glancing inside the café where Levi was busy telling his coworker how to make the new drink. Hange even went as far as following her gaze but they didn’t find anything out of the ordinary other than Levi sighing in that stressful way of his that always made them snicker. They turned back to their Sun, who was once again in a daze while staring at the clear windows of the café. “So,” they prolonged the syllable, “how’s life going, darling? I know we’re living in the same apartment but I just can’t help but ask you this because it seems like you’re always in a daze these days.”
A pause made the breeze’s call known.
“Hey, Hange, have you ever been in love?”
That spread the chill even more inside Hange’s chest. She called them by their name. Not sweetheart nor big spoon. The reality washed over Hange like a pail of freezing water.
“W-What?” Damn, they couldn’t keep the stutter off their words.
She turned her head to them, eyes so soft and smile so beautiful that made Hange breathless for one second. The butterflies dwindled, losing their iridescent wings when they realized that look wasn’t reserved for them anymore. “I thought about it,” she murmured, rubbing her numbing fingertips on the warm cup. “I have never fallen in love with anyone before. Sure, I love you and all our friends but I’ve never stopped and thought about how someone can look like starlight in front of me. But recently,” again, that pretty smile that pierced Hange’s chest, “I never knew that it could hit me that unexpectedly.”
Hange grinned despite the pounding of her chest. “So, who’s the lucky person?”
She chuckled, going back to staring at the interior of the café. “I told Levi to lay off on scolding her but he never listens, says she’ll never grow a backbone if he’s being considerate on her.”
Now, they’re confused because the only people manning the counter as she spoke was Levi (and she would never fall in love with Levi, seeing as they grew up together like siblings rather than the childhood friends that they are) and a strawberry blonde who looked like Levi’s become their worst nightmare. It took Hange a full minute to process that the person she’s been staring at was never their mutual friend, but the strawberry blonde who looked up towards their direction and waved with a pretty blush on their cheeks. She waved back with the same shyness, leaving Hange dumbfounded. “Wait, the person you’re in love with is—”
“Yeah, it’s her.”
Suddenly, Hange understands why she’s starting to like autumn.
It reminds her of the girl’s hair, which she gushes about smelling like coconut. It reminds her of the girl’s preferred perfume, how it smells so much like cinnamon, something that she sometimes puts in her autumn drinks because in her words, ‘it’s the perfect season rather than winter’. It reminds her of the girl’s hugs, the way both of them fit with each other like lost puzzle pieces.
But as the seasons change, feelings of long-term pining will always be constant.
“Are you okay, though?” Erwin asked them, blue eyes reflecting their pathetic faux smile. He pushed the plate of pasta to them since Erwin had an idea that Hange wasn’t eating that much now. It also worried [Name].
“Yeah, four-eyes, I know you’re not doing that great and I’m saying this in the friendliest way possible because we’re worried now,” Levi reminded them, sipping on his tea with slightly narrowed eyes. “You always decline whenever we want to bring you to somewhere, to the point of leaving Nanaba on voicemail. You always answer at the first ring. Look here, shitty four-eyes,” the way Levi enunciated the nickname made Hange slowly turn their head to him, face void of the smile they were known for, “shouldn’t you be happy for her? [Name] gained the courage to confess and you’re here moping when you should’ve been supportive—”
“And what of my feelings, Levi?”
That made Levi blink and feel like an asshole.
Then, the dam broke.
“I’ve been with her all this time, you’ve seen that. You witnessed how this shy girl opened up to an extroverted idiot and became one of her best friends during high school. It feels like I can’t fucking breathe because I always thought we were meant to be. When she was lonely, I was there to comfort her. When she got a bad grade on an exam, I was the one who knows what flavors of ice cream she wants or how she eats them together like a fucking milkshake. Every day, I never expected her to look my way like she looks at her girlfriend right now. It fucking hurts. It feels so empty to know that I’m not the one she fell in love with. What did I lack? Should I be sweeter and gentler like that girl? Or dainty whenever I eat like she is? Be girly and dress up like a doll? Fuck, I can’t even bring myself to hate her girlfriend. She’s so nice and kind and sweet, anything I’m not.” Hange buried their hands in their hair, making it messier than it was.
“I just want [Name] to love me and make things wonderful. Why isn’t Fate on my side this time?
“Why didn’t she choose me?”
Tears were now drifting down like snowflakes.
“Hange,” Erwin murmured.
“Look, sunshine, it’s snowing!”
A voice catches their attention. A strawberry blonde cheers the words with glee painted in her eyes. Beside her is the subject of the trio’s conversation, the subject of a brown-haired person’s affections. Her eyes are taking in the beauty that is her girlfriend. She looks so pretty in love — how her eyes crinkled at the corners and how snow clung on her eyelashes as if she is a fairy straight from a fairy tale Hange loves when she was a kid. Her girlfriend takes her hand and pulls her to the restaurant where the trio is watching from the windows. Gray and blue irises slide over a somber bespectacled person, gauging their reaction though their face never gives anything away.
“I’m right behind you, Petra. I just took the time to admire you because you’re so pretty under the snow.”
“Stop it! You’re prettier!”
“Did you know that seeing the first snow of the year together with the person you love, your relationship will rival that of eternity?”
“Then, I’m happy I get to see this first snow with you, sunshine.”
“Me, too, angel.”
Hange smiles under a steady stream of tears. “I’m happy for her. I’m happy she found happiness even if it’s not with me.”
The chill blows inside the warm walls of the restaurant the moment the door opens, [Name]’s joyous greetings for her best friends bringing smiles to two of them. Her eyes drift to brown ones before turning to Petra to ask for a pack of tissues since Hange’s tears are still visible. Hange watches the commotion with a small smile, the chill spreading through them like a snowstorm.
Winter is here.
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@angelofthorr
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badgirlcovenrep · 3 years
Text
atlas
Alex Chen × Steph Gingrich fluffy comfort one-shot
(I was talking to a friend about the game and we were discussing how Alex is probably still carrying a lot of trauma. And even after everything that happened at the mines we still don't see her really grieve for the whole situation and herself. So- I had to write it, you know?)
Enjoy!
TW: mentions of suicide, death and mental health issues.
It's two months into their relationship now, and they are somewhere in a Californian town, living in a tiny apartment close to the beach. They play together in small venues and underground clubs. Alex bartends and Steph referees for DND campaigns at a nerd bar they found by chance on their first week there.
They're happy. As happy as Alex remembers being since she was- well, maybe nine.
Every day, it's a little like waking up into a dream. Living in an apartment with her first girlfriend, listening to music as they cooked dinner together. Getting to kiss her just because Alex felt like it. Because her heart went a little loopy inside her chest when she smiled. Because she knew Steph would hold on to her waist and make her feel like she was full of electricity.
The 'falling in love' business felt overrated before Steph.
But Being in the middle of it now, Alex doesn't think there's anything better.
Although a part of her still felt quite numb - she guesses it's not something that will go away that easily - and day by day, Alex felt a little bit more like she could breathe... like she was finally letting herself go, at least a little bit.
****
Now that she could comprehend and use her powers, it also seemed as if she'd started to become even more of a magnet for all sorts of emotion around her. And apparently Alex could do it in her sleep too.
The nightmares came in clusters most of the time, a badly cut-together mess of voices and feelings. The lady that lived under them, who lost her son when he was little. The couple from down the street, who were going through a hard time in their relationship. Even the little girl from upstairs, who had terrible night terrors of sharp-teethed monsters reaching from under her bed.
They all mixed inside her head until she woke up gasping for air and sizzling with emotion.
It was rare that she'd have a full dream, one that made sense and completed itself, but when she did they were always about Gabe. About sitting together at the rooftop of the Lantern and sharing a beer. Or climbing trees, like they used to do when they were little.
It was a relief from the usual doom.
And that dream was supposed to be nothing different. Or at least she thought it wasn't.
****
In it, they were at the ravine. A world of twinkling stars shining above their heads. The Colorado mountains all around them creating a landscape that was just as beautiful as it was bittersweet. Alex could see the log she'd crossed, still standing between her and the tiny outcrop of stone Ethan had been stranded on.
She hadn't dreamed of the ravine since leaving Haven Springs, but while she was there, Alex dreamt of it every night. She would see it when her eyes were closed. She could hear it, - the sirens, the terrible, deafening rumble of the ground splitting beneath them. The panic, pounding into her ears.
But this is different. Because when she looks around, Alex realizes she's standing over the elevated plateau, tied to the waist and leaning all her weight against a sturdy piece of rock.
Looking at her from below is Gabe. Lying on the cold ground. A cheesy smile spread across his face.
"Why are we switched?" Alex asks because that's all she can think of asking, as she stares at the rope that anchored her to the ground... to Gabe.
"Beats me. This is all your brain, not mine." He says, and Alex huffs in annoyance, "you know what's going to happen, but you keep coming here."
"I don't have a choice."
"Hmmm..." Gabe hums, but there's some humor in his expression as he stares intently back at her, "and that's exactly why... I'm here because I should say goodbye."
A coldness spreads over Alex's limbs. Around her, the very fabric of the dream dims into darkness as a strong breeze blows past them. She suddenly feels like throwing up.
"What- what does that mean?" It's a stupid question. This is her dream. Alex knows what it means.
Deep down, she knew she'd been conjuring him up for her own sake. Trying to bring back any morsel of relief into the giant hole he'd left inside her heart. However, Alex also knew at some point he'd be gone- she just didn't expect-
"You don't need me anymore, Alex." He says. As if it's that simple. As if she'd ever-
"I'll always need you, Gabe. Of course I need you." The words stumble out of her mouth, and she can feel the hot, angry tears falling down her face.
It feels like a hot iron pressed to the very top of her chest.
Like lava, boiling up into her bloodstream until Alex wants to punch something. The steam that prickles from under her skin, fighting to break free.
Anger always comes first when people feel cornered. It's something she noticed a while back. Out of all the emotions Alex had dealt with the past few months, that, at least, hadn't changed.
"Shit, Gabe. When you died I needed you more than ever."
"But we can't fix that, can we?" He asks, and another wave of anger rips through her. She looks anywhere but him, because Alex feels that if she does, she'll tackle and kill him all over again. But when he says nothing and they're left in the same pocket of silence - the one right before the whole world collapsed - her eyes eventually fall back to her brother. Tied to her and laid on the ground beneath. Looking at her like just as much the goofy asshole she missed so much.
Anger always felt urgent and fast, like a flash going through her body and leaving everything inside it in disarray. It demanded to be completely felt, but only for the moment it took for Alex to decide it wasn't worth launching the nearest object at a window.
Or trying to kill her dead brother.
"You might have needed Gabe. But you don't need this Gabe anymore, Alex. You can do it on your own now."
The fear and sadness that came after? They were usually much, much worse.
"But this is the only Gabe I have."
Those emotions, when mixed, turned into a horrible harmony that paralyzed her lungs and darkened the sides of her vision. They felt just as urgent as anger, but complacent. A beast staring at her from the very bottom of a pit. Tied to her by the waist and trying to lure her down into the abyss.
And, for Alex, the abyss was as deep as a ventilation shaft for a Colorado mining site.
"No, it's not. You'll always have me, Alex. And you know that." Not in the way that matters. Alex wants to say, but it's so redundant. He's the ghost. He should already know that. "And you have Ryan now, and Eleanor, Riley, Charlotte, Ethan... Steph..." he gives her a cheesy smile in the last name, wiggling his eyebrows back at her teasingly.
"Oh, God, way to ruin the moment." Alex can't help but chuckle a little through her tears. Is she blushing? You can't blame her for blushing, right? God, she feels like Diane.
"Hey. Let me have it. One of my only regrets is that I never got to tease the hell out of Steph for dating my little sister... and for being whipped as hell."
"That would have been so funny."
"I knew she'd get along with you but I guess I didn't expect... that. Shame on me. Should've had more artistic vision."
Alex chuckles as more tears run down her face. It's so bittersweet it hurts from the very inside of herself.
"All jokes aside. I'm glad you have her, and that she has you. She's good. Just make sure you tell her I'll haunt her from the grave if her dumb ass breaks your heart, okay?" Alex nods, and her body starts shaking with strangled sobs. So much emotion she just can't let go of. Because if she does, Alex is afraid there'll be nothing left.
"Hey. Don't cry. You can do this, Alex. You know how to live life now."
"I don't want to lose you again, Gabe."
"You'll never lose me. You'll just have to look a little harder." He smiles up at her, pulling jokingly on the rope, "now play your part - or is it my part? You get it."
And then- too soon. (Same as it was that night.) The sirens blast through the mountains, and somewhere above them, a giant explosion blows her eardrums, and boulders the size of cars come tumbling down the mountain.
She barely has time to blink. Barely has time to breathe one last time. Seen as she's Gabe, when she looks up all she sees is the giant rock, flying towards her, hitting her across the torso so hard, before she knows, she's flying way above the ravine, and one last glimpse of the stars catches hold over the veil of her memory before everything turns black.
****
She wakes up in bed, desperately clawing at the top of her chest as she gasps for air. Her lungs feel like they're made of lead, and all around her, she can feel the weight of the rocks, the explosion, the debris, weighing down her body.
Alex pats across the mattress for Steph, who is not there. Another wave of panic washes over her. So strong her mouth turns dry and her head aches as she tries to breathe in, but her lungs can only handle tiny, torturous gasps of half-breath.
Alex dispels a world of curses towards herself inside. Willing her own body to just calm down. In the bathroom, she can hear Steph singing softly to herself- she must have come home late from the DND tournament. Alex told her she'd swing by, but she'd had a long shift and ended up just passing out as soon as her head hit the pillow.
Alex hadn't had an incident like this in very long. She could control it now. Most times. It wasn't easy, with being on the road and constantly surrounded by people. Sometimes, she still got more than she could bargain. When she walked across a depressed person on the sidewalk, or heard one of their multiple neighbors yelling at each other through the walls, and suddenly she felt as if the world blended out of focus into a tsunami of feeling.
Feeling that wasn't hers but still felt so much like it was.
Steph helped whenever it happened. For a sarcastic punk rock mess, she was surprisingly stable and so very reassuring.
Just the fact that she can hear her voice. That Steph is there in the apartment with her, is enough to calm some of her nerves, and while Alex still can't keep herself from pulling in gasps of air as she tries to hold in any kind of oxygen, she at least has a plan.
Water. Water will make her feel better, right?
Almost as soon as the idea crosses her mind, Alex's half-delirious brain commands her to get up, but her body feels so very heavy. Like she's really been trampled over by a wave of giant boulders. And as soon as her feet touch the ground, her legs give up under the weight, and she falls onto the hard floor with a loud, heavy thud.
The girl's hands fly up to hold her weight against the bed, and thankfully that means she doesn't face plant the ground, but it sends her heart into a neck-breaking pace, and all air Alex'd been able to gather so far escapes her in a single huff until she's hyperventilating again, hot, angry tears running down her face.
You're so weak. You're such a fucking idiot. Of course, you had to go and lose Gabe twice, who the fuck would want to stay with such a mess-
"Alex, are you okay?" Steph's voice comes, as she opens the door to find her girlfriend sitting on the ground, looking like she might pass out from just trying to get her lungs to work, "Alex!"
In a second she's crossed their room and kneeled by her, both hands going up to her cheeks on instinct, smearing away her tears.
"Breathe with me, okay? We've done this before, you can do it." She always gets just a tiny bit of a scared aura around her when Alex gets like this, never for long enough that she can read it, but it's still there, the tiny flutter of fear, "come on, breathe."
Her eyes go up to find Steph's, her strong, glittering green gaze. Alex might be the one with superpowers, but it was Steph who could so easily reach in and soften her edges like it was nothing. It was Steph who could just lean in and hold Alex's hand against her chest, letting her feel the determined rise of her lungs. Strong. Stable. Even Alex couldn't possibly understand how she did that.
How she always made Alex's breathing slowly come to shaky, deep breaths, crawling painfully out of her dry throat, but still better than gasping like a fish. Inside her, Alex feels the furious hurricane of emotion, twisting itself into the bottom of her lungs, taking hold of every bit of her until she felt like she could throw up.
"Wait here, I'll get you water," Steph says, and Alex wants to complain, she doesn't want to be alone, even for a second.
But before she can, Steph has left their bedroom for the kitchen, and Alex feels as if she's stable enough to crawl into bed, so she does so at a glacial pace. She grabs Shu-Shu, holding her close to her chest as she sits and waits for Steph.
She eventually comes back in with a glass full and Alex gulps it down in silence, unsure if whatever dam of emotion that has taken place inside of her will break if she tries to speak. So she sets the glass back and lies her head down on the pillow, facing away from Steph and the rest of the room as she tries to reel herself back in.
She can hear Steph taking off her boots and climbing into bed, one arm winding around her waist as she pulls Alex in closer.
"Was it the lady from upstairs?" Steph asks, eventually, after they sit in a few long minutes of silence.
"No." She replies, and it comes out so strangled, so broken, a few more tears run down her face. Steph pulls her even closer, a tight, steady pressure.
"The couple again? I swear to God I'll call the police on that asshole this time."
"No." Alex says, and she detaches herself from Steph just enough so she can turn around and look at her, "I had a dream about Gabe." Simply saying his name makes her whole body shake. Steph is looking at her so intensely, Alex has to close her eyes, holding on to the fabric of her shirt with all she had not to explode in whatever terrifying, dizzying bomb of emotion she could feel brewing inside herself.
Alex felt so much from other people it overwhelmed her multiple times a day, and even then, it was nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to how much sheer strength it took from her not to let it blow.
It scared her. More than anything.
"He wanted to say goodbye." She says eventually, "it was- I don't know. This- I- this isn't coming from anyone- How do I get rid of it? It's like it's all inside of me and it's taking up so much space and I don't know how to fix it" The words come tumbling out before she can stop them, and she's rambling through tears.
Steph sighs. And Alex can feel the love and sadness mixed together, blowing from her in waves as she holds Alex's chin, bringing her up so they can look at each other.
"Baby..." there are tears in her eyes now, as she pulls her closer until their foreheads are touching, and they are so close Alex can smell her lemongrass shampoo, "This is all yours."
And such simple words shouldn't hit her this fucking hard.
But it all suddenly makes so much sense-
Alex was numb after her dad left. She felt nothing for months. It was one of the most terrifying feelings in the world, a deep and powerful depression that threatened to overtake her at any given point.
Like her whole body was nothing but dead weight and her brain was way too tired to even try and keep up.
Young as she was, Alex guesses she never realized the first time she felt anything at all after that was when she discovered her powers. The day a boy came to the orphanage and he was so angry it blew her across the hallway. Ever since then, everything around her was a cacophony of feeling. Coming from every direction. Every street corner, every store, every park.
Every moment of her life since she was eleven, Alex could only feel for others.
"I- I forgot." She realizes, half surprise and half so much sadness another sob breaks through her throat.
Now it made sense, the anger, the sadness, the fear, a hurricane of emotion so very powerful it made her ears ring.
"I'm scared." She admits. Because for someone who had been so focused on learning how to exist among other people's feelings, Alex had no clue how to handle herself, "what do I do with all of this? How do I fix it?"
"Alex. Look at me." Steph brings her face upwards until they are so close, Alex can see the speckles of blue in her eyes, "Gabe died just four months ago, and you were there to see everything- then you got shot and thrown down God knows how many stories into a dark abyss that you somehow walked out of, but not before also finding out about your dad's tragic death - and I haven't seen you cry, actually cry, for yourself, even once."
"I- I can't, it's too much. I don't know how, Steph." Alex had learned her lesson. She'd seen her life as it was and survived it. Deep down she knew it wasn't her responsibility anymore - that it never was her responsibility, to begin with - to hold herself together for others. She knows.
But old habits die hard, and Alex guesses it'll take a while before she starts feeling it too.
Because right now, it still felt like the world might collapse if she wasn't there to hold it together.
"Just- give it to me. Everything you have, I can carry it for you." Steph says, with such determination, Alex actually believes her, but she takes her eyes away, trying to avoid the bubbling of tears threatening to jump out through her throat "Let it go, please, Alex. I can't watch you carry it alone anymore."
At that moment, Alex glances at her again, and there's so much pain, so much love in her eyes, that inside Alex, the dam finally breaks and she's choking on sobs. Tears start running down her cheeks as Steph leans in and pulls her closer, one arm around her shoulder and one on her hip, squeezing tight in reassurance.
If she didn't know better, Alex would've guessed Steph was the one with the superpowers, with the way she coaxes wave after wave of emotion out of her with nothing but her steady presence and quick, light kisses she leaves on Alex's head and hair as she holds on to her shirt for dear life.
It overwhelmed her more than anything she'd experienced so far, and for what feels like hours, she just sobs as Steph holds her.
She cries for her mom. Dead before her time, trying to hold them together to the very end. She cries for her dad, dying a slow death deep underground, a picture of the two children he'd never see again dangling around his neck. She cries for Gabe, for the time they'd never have, for the time they did have.
Above all, for the first time, Alex cried for herself. For being the last out of all of them. For the little girl that had to love and lose every single one of them in succession.
And in the middle of all of it, like a speckle of golden light hidden under all the darkness, for the first time, she feels that it could all start to feel alright.
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slowly-writing · 4 years
Text
Bullying
Natasha Romanoff x Teen!Reader
Word count: 2K
Requested by anon: Can you do an imagine where natashas daughter is being bullied and she finds out?
You have your hands shoved in your pockets, pulling your jacket down and allowing the hood to fall more into your face, blocking you from the harsh stares of your classmates. You should’ve expected your life to turn out like this. You knew what high school was like. Fitting in was the main priority and the mob of insecure students would swarm anything different.
You should’ve known that you’d be the number one target. The adopted teenager living with the most famous heroes in the world. It was dumb to think you’d be able to fly under the radar the way Peter had. The boy had comforted you those days leading up to your freshman year. Having just finished his own he told you that it would be fine. Boy was he wrong.
The freshman hall was far enough away from the sophomores that he never saw your torment, and over the last three years you learned how to make sure he never would. You wouldn’t let the boy who’d always been like an older brother to you get caught in the crossfire. He’d try to stick up for you and blow the only normal thing he had left. You’ve made it to junior year, you can make it the rest of the way.
You’re pulled out of your thoughts by a shoulder slamming into yours, sending you stumbling into the lockers.
“Watch it Annie!” A girl called over her shoulder and you frowned at the nickname. Ever since the kids found out you were adopted they started calling you Annie, after the orphan girl, and you hated it. Rather than saying anything you just quickened your pace and slipped into your first class.
“It’s fine that they call me that,” you mumble to yourself, “that way I don’t flinch at the sound of my own name being called. I’d never be able to hide that from Peter. Or Wanda. Especially not from mom.”
You try to rationalize everything as you settle into your desk, pretending not to see the kids pointing at you and laughing as you become the brunt of their joke.
xxxxx
You manage to ignore it for the most part. The words aren’t what hurt. Well they do, whoever said words will never hurt me obviously didn’t know what they were talking about. But that hurt you could cover with a fake smile and an excuse of being stressed over homework or some other thinly veiled excuse. The giant bruise forming on your forehead was harder to hide.
Some girl named Beverly decided it’d be funny to trip you at lunch, sending you head first into the table. Now you had a lovely purple mark and some swelling by your hairline. Thank god you left a beanie in your locker. It should be enough to cover the injury.
“Hey Romanoff!” The call of your name makes your head snap up in panic, you quickly pull on the hat as Peter makes his way towards you.
“Oh hey Pete, what brings you to my neck of the woods?” you ask, a genuine smile on your face for the first time today.
“I’m heading to the tower to do some work with Tony, wanna walk together?” his smile is wide as he asks, completely carefree, and you wish you could feel that way as well.
“Uh, yeah. Sounds good,” you try to sound casual. There’s no way to brush him off without being obvious. You’re waking the exact same route. Luckily the walk home is fairly uneventful. The assholes seem to be warded off by Peter. The late autumn heat has him in a tank top that shows off his arms, and while he’s not the buffest guy in the school, it’s obvious he can hold his own. If only they knew how strong he really was.
You see a few people staring, more like glaring, but you’re able to ignore them pretty easily. Soon enough the two of you are walking into the lobby of the tower incident free.
“I’m gonna head to the labs. You good from here?” Peter’s question feels heavy, almost as if he was intentionally trying to make you feel safer, but you brush the feeling off with a nod and a wave as you head to the elevator. You’re probably overthinking it. A few moments later you're in the common room and you let out a sigh of relief. Finally a safe place. No teasing here, or at least none with any malice behind it.
“Hey, y/n. How was school?” you look up to see Wanda on the couch and you immediately blush.
“Hey Wan, it was alright. How was...whatever it is you do here during the day?” you tease and she rolls her eyes, a matching blush painting her cheeks. Thank god the kids at school don’t know about this...whatever you have with Wanda. They’d tear you to shreds.
“I do online school and I work, thank you very much. I do important stuff here, ya know, like saving the world,” she’s glaring at you as she says it, but you can see something in her eyes. You can’t quite place it, friendship, something more? Whatever it is, it’s so different from the hate you see from the kids at school.
“A bit full of yourself, aren’t you? I feel like that’s all just fancy talk for free loading and laziness. You gotta get out there, get some dirt under your nails. You’re too spoiled, spending all this time in the tower,” you notice yourself leaning closer to her as you talk and your eyes involuntarily flash towards her lips as butterflies take over your stomach.
“And that uh…that fancy private school you spend your time in. That’s gotta be really...tough?” she tries to defend herself but her words come out weak as she inches ever so much closer. you ‘re about to close the gap when you hear a voice from the doorway.
“I thought I heard you come in. How was school?” The two of you spring apart at your mom’s voice.
“It was good,” you squeak out, adjusting your hat to cover your forehead.
“Yeah, learning a lot,” Wanda mumbles as your mom rolls her eyes. She’s well aware of the weird relationship you and Wanda have, and while she’d prefer you didn’t date until you’re well into your thirties she knows if you’re going to, then Wanda is a good choice.
“What’s with the beanie, love? It’s like eighty degrees out,” your mom’s questions has you panicking.
“I uh...like it. It’s cool,” you defend and Wanda rolls her eyes this time, back to her playful self from earlier.
“I’m sweating just looking at you. Let me help!” she teases and you see the red mist around her hands before you feel it.
“No!” you lunge at her, as if you’d be any match for her powers, but before you even reach her your hat is floating in the air and her eyes are wide.
“What the hell happened?” your mom’s voice is harsh and tears are already gathering in your eyes. You look frantically between your mom and Wanda, who seems to take the hint.
“I’ll give you two some space,” Wanda says before hastily leaving the room.
“Y/n, what happened?” she asks again, gentler this time but you still try to get out of it.
“It’s nothing-” the look in her eyes stops you. It’s the look she sent you when you would try to sneak candy after bedtime when you were little, but this time there’s a pain mixed in that you’re not used to seeing. “It’s just some kids at school. They like to pick on me. It’s really not that big of a deal.”
“How long has this been going on?” She looks...sad and it kind of scares you. That’s not an emotion you’re used to your mom having. Stoicness, yes especially when she’s working. Happiness, yes; more often since you came around your uncles tell you. Love, confidence, bravery, exasperation, even anger sometimes. But almost never sadness or pain and now she’s shown both of those in a matter of minutes.
“Mom,” you try again but she shakes her head, brushing the tears forming in her eyes.
“How long, love?” she asks again and you sigh.
“Since freshman year.” It’s her turn to sigh. Sitting next to you on the couch and pulling you into her side gently. It’s an odd mix of emotions, you can see on her face that she doesn’t know if she wants to cry or burn your school to the ground. You’re sure Wanda is getting a headache trying to sort through the many emotions coming from this room. You ignore that though. You leave the turmoil to everyone else for once as you finally relax, the weight of your secret finally off your shoulders.
“Friday, call Wanda and Peter in here please,” her voice is calm, and you don’t know if you should be scared.
“Mom? What are you-”
“I just want to talk to them,” she cuts you off, and you don’t have time to argue before the two are entering the room.
“Hey Miss Romanoff, Friday said you wanted to-Oh my god! What happened?” Peter yells as he sees the bruise maring your face, and Wanda is silent behind him as he processes the scene. Her eyes are red, almost like she’s been crying. Was she crying for you?
“By that reaction I’m guessing you didn’t know about this. Maximoff, are those tears of sympathy or fear for your life?” your mom snaps and you glare at her.
“I didn’t know, if that’s what you’re asking. I wouldn’t have sat by while she was being hurt,” there’s an anger behind Wanda’s words that you weren’t expecting. You didn’t think she’d cared this much. It makes sense, though, when you think about how you’d feel if the situation was reversed.
“As much as I wanna walk down to the school guns blazing, I can’t go beat up a bunch of kids, so I’m going to need the two of you to look out for her,” you scoff and stand from the couch at your mom’s words, crossing your arms across your chest.
“Excuse me, I’m right here. I’m not an invalid! And Wanda doesn’t even go to my school.”
“I’m well aware, you and I are starting training as soon as that heals,” she gestures to your forehead, “and Wanda will be enrolling in your school. Tony can have it all set up by tomorrow.”
“What? No! I’m not letting her start school just so she can get beaten up too!” you practically yell, but Wanda’s hand on your arm has you looking to her.
“I’m not letting my…” there’s a heavy pause, one that you know you’ll have to find the right word for soon, “friend get hurt when I could help. Plus, they quite literally can’t hurt me, and I want to be there for you.”
Her words have your resolve cracking, but you don’t want to give in that easy. “You’re a year older. You’ll be gone before me,” you try to argue and Wanda looks away, a blush of embarrassment on her cheeks.
“She also missed a lot of school in Sokovia. She tested in a grade below you,” your mom explains, and it clicks as to why Wanda always did school online. Well one of the reasons at least, she’d be two years older than her classmates.
“Well I could tutor you,” you offer quickly, not wanting Wanda to feel ashamed in front of you. “It seems like we’re gonna be spending most of our time together. Plus you’re miles smarter than me. You’ll be the one teaching me in no time.”
“Then it’s settled. This won’t happen again.” Your mom’s words feel more like a promise and you smile. “And I want the names of the girls that did this to you.”
“Mom! I thought you agreed no beating up kids!” you argue, a smile finding its way back on your face as you try to hold back a laugh.
“I’m not going to beat them up. But I never said anything about some light hacking,” she says with a wink and you roll your eyes, not entirely sure if she’s kidding or not.
tag list: @rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @prizmix-and-friends @worlds-in-words @im-salt-but-not-salty @5aftermidnight @riotmaximoff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx 
Marvel women tag list: @imnotasuperhero 
Natasha Romanoff tag list: @indiavance555
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bicycle4two · 3 years
Text
say you wanna, say you wanna be || Sam Drake x Reader || Chapter 4
Summary: Sam isn't looking for a girlfriend and, frankly, you don't think you'd be a good one anyway, but you two aren't some one-night stand and it's been a long time since either of you thought of each other as a convenient booty call. This is something more, something the two of you didn't realize would be. It's uncharted territory. And there is no other choice but to figure out how to navigate through it together.
Pairing: Sam Drake x Fem!Reader
Tags(ish): developing relationship, implied/non-explicit sexual content, romance/fluff/hurt/comfort, age difference (though reader’s age is not stated), switching povs (second person reader, third person sam), no y/n but reader has a nickname
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C.1 || C.2 || C.3
Chapter Four:
Here’s the thing.
Sam always knew that he and his brother were destined for something great. And, well, he can’t say that greatness didn’t fall on them. Yeah, sure, he spent thirteen years in jail. Who hasn’t? But despite that little hiccup in his life, Sam thinks that he’s done pretty well for himself. He’s discovered a lost city or two, with and without his brother, held some artifacts that were rumored to only be from stories, and tried one of the cigars from Sully’s collection. He even has a place to call his own now, his name on the mailbox downstairs, a doorman who greets him.
Honestly, it’s all he’s ever wanted growing up. More, even. Back in Panama, all he thought he wanted, besides, well, getting out, was to find Avery’s treasure with Nathan. It was that thought that kept him going most days. The idea of finding four hundred million worth of treasure! That was the dream. He and Nathan could finally settle down, or, rather, their version of it. Because they weren’t going to have a normal life. That was never in the cards for them growing up, but it was a nice thought, not having to worry about food or a place to stay.
And Sam hasn’t had to worry about that for a long time. He felt empty after Libertalia, that his story was only just beginning while Nathan’s was coming to a close. There are still things he wants to see, to do.
Time, he realized long ago, was something that he could lose so easily and he wasn’t going to let that happen again.
So he went on more adventures, climbed higher mountains, picked up little trinkets (a habit he got from his little brother, starting his own little collection) along the way to bigger, better things. (It’s just a shame that some things were destroyed along the way, like statues and buildings, but what can he say? It runs in the family.)
But tonight, after a long flight and an uncomfortable chair, all Sam wants to do is go to her and crash on her bed.
Because although Sam has a place to call home, a big apartment that’s filled with his stuff, clothes, souvenirs, a fish…it feels empty. Cold. Even if he had all the money in the world, Sam can’t shake off that feeling that he shouldn’t have too much. That in just a blink of an eye, all this could be gone. Because that has happened before—moving from place to place, packing what you can immediately get your hands on.
Sam wants riches, searches for them all over the world, but deep down he knows he doesn’t know what to do with them. That even if he dreams of more, he only knows how to live with enough.
So, he only has one pillow, a blanket. A towel and an extra, shampoo (the kind that has body soap mixed with it. 2 in 1! What a deal) and deodorant. Clothes, he knows to get the sturdy kind, the kind that won’t rip easily, that stains won’t be too obvious on. Shoes, too. He gets the ones that have good traction, that won’t chafe his feet, won’t deteriorate when wet.
The fish, Jim Hawkins—Jimmy was an attempt to liven up the place. To make it seem homey, to keep him company. But there’s only so much you can do with a fish and Sam can’t deck out Jim’s aquarium any more than he already has. He’s afraid that something would fall on the poor thing, that maybe there’s more inside Jimmy’s castle than meets the eye.
“Welcome home.”
“I’m ho…ome?” Sam drops his bag to the floor, more from being too tired to carry it than shock. He’d resigned to seeing her tomorrow, that it was too late to go over now, but there she is, curled up on his couch, toes peeking out from under a throw blanket. It’s hers. Sam recognizes it easily. It’s the same one she has thrown over her arm chair, the same chair Sam likes to lounge on when he’s found a good book to read.
“How was your trip?” She looks so cozy on his couch. Hands wrapped around an orange mug he’s never seen before, book on her lap. She doesn’t look like she going to get up and Sam can’t blame her. He sort of wants to curl up next to her, somehow squeeze his large frame in the remaining space. “Get me anything nice?”
“I, uh,” Sam’s swallows, blinking. “I’m not dreaming, right? Like, I didn’t get knocked out when I fell off the mountain?”
“You fell off what?” She’s moving to stand up, mug thankfully placed back on the table despite her haste, and Sam doesn’t want her to do that.
“No. No, don’t get up.”
She gets up anyway, blanket falling to the floor, and, oh god, she’s wearing pajamas, oranges printed all over her cotton shorts. She’s by his side in seconds, hands reaching up to his face, bringing him down to her height so she can get a better look at him.
“Ouch,” Sam says, the movement too fast for his aching body. His muscles are sore and the trip home didn’t do them any favors. But she thinks that it’s her fault, that she’s hurt him and her hands are in the air, her eyes wide with both surprise and concern. “It’s not you. It’s just…,” Sam hates to say it, makes him feel old, but, “My back. I hit the ground pretty hard.”
“I feel dumb for asking…but are you okay?” Her hands are back on him, her touch gentle and giving comfort Sam didn’t know he needed. She doesn’t seem to know what to do first, how to check for injuries, but the thought is enough, her being here is enough, makes him feel better.
“Well, I’m alive,” Sam brings up his hand to push her hair away from her face. It’s soft, slightly damp from a shower. Oh. He probably needs one of those. “Nothing a hot shower can’t fix.”
“Can you…,” she hesitates, sucks her bottom lip between her teeth and Sam bends down on reflex, damn his back, and kisses her. She relaxes, sighs, and pulls away, blushing. “Uhm, I, huh?”
“Can I…?” Sam prompts, smirking.
“Now I’m embarrassed to ask.”
“C’mon, princess, don’t leave me hanging. What is it?”
“Can you, uh, do you need help?”
“Do I need help?” Sam grins. “In the shower? Well, there’s only one way to find out.”
Sam mentioned it to Nathan before, when they were in Italy, trying to find their way into the Rossi Estate. When you’re locked up with no hope of being let out, it’s the little things you miss the most.  
And Sam didn’t think that there was much to miss anymore now that he was out. He can ride his motorcycle anywhere he wants, go to his own bathroom any damn time he pleases, shower, eat, sleep, drink without permission. He can call Nathan and Sully and Elena without request, without reason. He can stay indoors or go outside without a schedule. He can live. The simple joys of being alive, Sam is able to enjoy them now, in much a greater magnitude than he has ever before.
Citrus, he remembers telling Nathan, he had missed the smell of citrus. The novelty of fresh fruit. The refreshing scent, the taste. The sweetness on his tongue.
“Clementine,” Sam gasps out without thinking, his mind stuck on things he missed and maybe this last trip had gone on longer than he liked.
He’s brought back to earth when the movement stops, even when he adjusts his grip, tries to get her going again, to move her hips the way he knows they both like. He opens his eyes to look at her when she doesn’t budge and she’s frowning at him, there’s a wrinkle between her eyebrows. An angry look.
“That’s not my name,” she says and it looks like she’s going to get off of him and, goddammit, why does she keep doing that?
“What?” Sam’s confused, blood not quite in his head.
“You called me Clementine.” Her tone is upset. Hurt. Sam’s never heard her speak like this before. “Who the hell is that?”
“Shit,” Sam breathes out. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
“Yeah. No shit.” And there she goes, lifting herself off of him as quickly as she had sunk onto him half an hour ago. Sam lets out a grunt. His ribs are bruised yet she flattens her hands on his chest to support herself. She’s doing it on purpose. She was careful before. “I didn’t think you’d be the type to do this, but I guess I was wrong.”
Sam’s cold without her, for more reasons than one, and he knows that if he doesn’t say something, anything, now, she’s going to be out that door before he can even finish saying Hail Mary. And no amount of prayer, to any sort of god out there, is going to bring her back.
So, Sam swallows down his pride, and says, “It’s you.”
“Yeah, I heard you say that before. ‘Just you.’ How can I-I be so stu-stupid?” Her voice wavers and shit she’s crying, isn’t she? He made her cry.
“And I mean that. Hey, come here.” Sam doesn’t want to hold her too tightly, afraid to hurt her, but he has to know that she isn’t going to leave, that she’s going to stay and listen to him. She turns to look at him, tears flowing down her cheeks, nose red, lips quivering, and Sam’s heart just about breaks. He did that. He’s never felt more like an asshole. “It is just you. It has been since the start. I promise.”
She doesn’t say anything. Just waits. And Sam feels like he’s back in school, standing in front of his class, giving a presentation.
“I, uh, did I ever tell you that I was in prison once?” Sam manages to get out. He always knew he was going to have this conversation with her, knew that with how their relationship was going, he couldn’t keep her in the dark much longer, but he had hoped that he would at least be wearing pants for this.
“No,” she breathes out, wiping her nose with a tissue she got from his bedside table. Huh. Was that tissue box always there? Anyway. “But I figured.”
“The tattoos?”
“No,” she says again and by some miracle there’s a smile on her lips. It’s small, gone with a blink of an eye, but Sam knows what he saw, has all of her smiles memorized. “Someone like you just has the talent of getting into trouble.”
And Sam can’t help it. He lets out a laugh because it’s true. She knows him.
“Well, I can’t deny that. But anyway,” He clears his throat. Was talking always this hard? “When I was in prison. In Panama—that’s important. This was when I was in Panama. I was there for thirteen years and, Jesus, time moves differently there. It’s like the days can’t go by fast enough but next thing you know a year has passed by, two, three, and you’ve lost your youth because some asshole decided to get all stabby with the guard.”
The words are spilling out, like he can’t get them out of him fast enough. Because he needs her to know, to understand.
“It wasn’t my fault. Well, okay, I was there on purpose at first, but those thirteen years were like a punishment for what that asshole did. I was supposed to die there. We were escaping, we were almost there, almost free, but I got shot and I fell. The guards found me and got some ‘doctors’ to patch me up. They made sure that if I was going to die, I was going to die because I rotted in that hellhole.”
Sam can see that she’s listening, that she’s hanging onto every word so he continues, because now that he’s started, he can’t stop.
“I was only in my twenties. There was so much I wanted to see, to do. Nathan and I had plans, dreams. We were going to go all over the world. But I was stuck there. Alone. And no one knew that I was alive. It’s like I stopped existing. Sometimes.” The words are stuck. But Sam forces them out. “Sometimes I, uh, I wished it were true, that it would be better if I was just gone. That I had just died back there.”
She’s crying again and Sam wipes her tears for her, brings her closer to him. Because these tears aren’t because of him anymore, but for him. And isn’t that something? Having someone cry for you.
“You don’t realize how much you have until everything is practically ripped away from you. I didn’t have any privacy. I…I couldn’t take a leak when I needed to. You just end up thinking, cuz there really isn’t much to do but think, about what you had. How life was good. And I, I just missed everything. I missed Nathan, of course, he’s my little brother. But, it’s the small things, too. Like riding my bike into the sunset. Grass beneath my feet. A glass of cold water. And…”
“And?” She asks, eyes focused on the gunshot scars on his abdomen, fingers tracing their shape. It tickles.
“And the smell of citrus.” He makes her look at him because this is important. The most important thing. “I missed the smell of citrus. The taste. And when I was in Japan, I thought about it again. The things I missed back here, back at home. And it’s citrus—you. I missed you so much, you wouldn’t believe it. I could have called Nathan. Elena, even. To come over here but I called you because,” Sam clears his throat once more. “Because I wanted you here. I had hoped you would be here when I came back. And you were.”
She’s quiet, eyes searching. And Sam’s poured out his heart and soul and now he’s got nothing else to do but wait and see what she does with it. Is this what being honest is like? Being vulnerable? It’s torture. Sam hates it. But he can also think of worse things and that keeps him rooted in his spot, trying to keep his face as honest as he can. Years of hiding is finally coming to bite him in the ass.
“You must have been so lonely.” Is what she says, hands back on his gunshot wounds. She’s transfixed. Almost like she’s been wondering about them forever. And maybe she has. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“Eh. It’s all in the past,” Sam says with a shrug. Because it is in the past. He’s made his peace with it. Mostly. Some things are harder to shake off than others but he’s okay now. He’s built from strong stuff, a sturdy breed. “But, y’know. You’re, uh, killing me here.”
“Killing you?”
“Cuz I don’t know what you’re going to do,” Sam admits. It’s all truth from here on out, huh? “I can’t read you right now. Are you gonna leave? Punch me in the face? Report me? Please don’t report me. I’d really hate to go back to jail. Nathan would kill me. And I still have a few years left to go, y’know?”
She smiles and Sam realizes that he was rambling. He takes a breath, feels himself calm down. Damn. He needs a cigarette. Maybe two. Are his hands shaking? They’re definitely shaking.
“I think you have more than a ‘few years,’” she says, fingers tracing scars. Sam twitches from her touch. Is this what it feels like when he touches her back? “Especially if you stop smoking.”
“I’ve heard it all before.”
“You should start listening.”
“Ah. Someday.” Sam takes her hand in his, mostly to stop her stop her from tickling him, but also to bring them back on topic. Because she still hasn’t said anything. Nothing to give him an idea where they go from here, if there is somewhere to go from here. “So?”
“So…” She leans close, talks in a whisper, like if she speaks any louder, something might shift, break this bubble that they’re in. “So, you have to tell me what you want, Sam.” It’s an echo of what he said to her months ago, a vulnerable, fragile moment just like this. “So I know what to give you.”
But this time is different because she’s always been more generous than him, always been willing to give.
And Sam’s always been someone to take what he wants and he’ll be damned if this time is any different.
“It would be nice if you stayed.”
“Stay? I can do that.”
...
Chapter 5
Read on AO3
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Sam’s apartment was inspired by @missdictatorme​ ‘s post
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thiserichann · 3 years
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cinderella and the mystery of the red lipstick (smut version) - d.sc
reader x roommate!winwin
genre: smut, fluff, humor
warnings: making out, drunk sex, femdom, safe sex, a bit of soft dom! Winwin and soft dom! reader
word count: 2562
synopsis: this is another Cinderella fic, except for the fact that she left lipstick stains instead of glass slippers
prompt:
This is my (very late) entry for @neosmutcollective's Risque event.
The song it was based on was Lips by NCT 127 (although it leaned towards the demo version more)
It was also a bit upbeat because the song Cinderella by CNBLUE (the Youth With You version) has been stuck on my head for ages now.
Enjoy reading!
Love, Ellie.
(link to the full story here)
Entering the party through someone’s window is probably the most ungraceful way to enter the party. However, you had no choice. Yes, it was rude to enter someone’s party without the owner’s invite. But, in your defense, it was ruder to not invite someone to a house party at your place.
Your brother, dear Hendery Huang, was kind enough to send you on your merry way that morning when you told him that you’re coming home late for a project.
“You know what, since I love you so much, you can stay over until morning. Sounds fun, right?”
And then the bastard proceeded to throw a party that same day.
The window to your shared bedroom with Hendery was wide open. He should be glad that it was you walking in rather than a criminal.
It wasn’t a criminal offense if you’re the one breaking in at your place.
You have successfully entered your room, changing into an outfit that your family would’ve never approved of, and wore layers of makeup to hide your identity. After the makeover, you’re almost unrecognizable. Your favorite touch is that bright red lip that you ordered from a friend that morning. There had been a mix-up in the delivery, you’re supposed to get that mauve color that you always wore when you go out. It was an honest mistake on the seller’s part, but you were kind enough to not send it back and keep the color instead.
You made it out of the room without being unnoticed. It’s not like anyone knows you at all though. The crowd is usually made up of people within Hendery and his roommates’ circle, people you usually do not interact with daily. You’ve also managed to sneak past the living room and into the kitchen where all the booze is. Grabbing a red cup full of whatever alcohol was on the counter, you made your way once again to the sea of people enjoying the party.
Since you barely knew every one, you just settled on leaning against the wall and observed the rest of the party. Honestly, you couldn’t understand what the fuss was about. It’s just a bunch of people using alcohol as an excuse to doing a bunch of dumb shit.
The introvert in you kicked in, and so you decided to finish your vodka in peace, which is translated to getting drunk in your room as you watch your favorite Netflix series.
Smiling happily, you made your way out past the crowd and into the sleeping quarters, where your room is. Thankfully, the guys are nowhere to be found and you can happily sneak back to your room without getting noticed. You have failed to account for one thing though. Near the sleeping quarters is a single, communal bathroom. Just as you’re about to enter your room, outcomes Sicheng, in a daze, trying his best to stand still as he holds on to the bathroom door for support.
“You can’t go there.” He croaked, speech already slurring due to his drunken state.
“Ah, yes. Thanks.” You made zero fuss about it, knowing that staying there would expose you to Sicheng. You don’t think he will tell your brother of your current whereabouts, but you digressed, just to be safe.
He then proceeds to call your name.
“Is that you? Can you help me out here?” You grunted, knowing full well that your identity had just been revealed. The guy looked like he needed help though, so you threw all the world in and helped him go back to his room. You grabbed him by his arms, which he then wrapped around you to help him support his weight, and walked step by step towards his room.
You heard footsteps coming from the outside, and in your panic, you used the drunk man’s body to shield the view of whoever it is that’s coming that way.
“Winwin hyung, you alright back there?”
Your heartbeat raced when you heard your brother’s voice. Knowing him, he would tell your mother that her precious little daughter is not only drunk but she’s wrapped around a guy’s arms doing god-knows-what. You leaned across the wall, stretching your arm out and wrapping it around Winwin’s neck. You pulled him closer, bodies only inches apart, making it look like the two of you are making out.
“Oh, you’re busy. Alright. Have fun!” The footsteps were gone in the moment, but your position stayed the same. You turned your gaze back at Sicheng, which is now looking at you weirdly.
“Hey.” You whispered.
“Hey.”
“I would like to get out of this position now.” You whispered once again, hints of your nerves already peeking out of your voice.”
“You’re pretty.” You stayed quiet, but you’re mentally screaming inside. Your emotions are going in a frenzy and something on the back of your mind keeps on telling you to pull him closer and turn the act into reality.
But that would be weird, right? Even if you’re a bit tipsy, reason has never left your brain. It’s nagging you to do the opposite, to push him away and proceed with your evening plans. The internal conflict rendered you frozen on the spot.
His eyes were fixed on yours, and as much as you want to look away, you’re afraid that that will get you into more danger. Looking away means you’re gonna have to take your eyes off of him, and you won’t see what he’s about to do next.
He was staring, which you now realized is him waiting for you to react and do something. Pull him closer and get lost in him, or push him away and live with the rest of your lives knowing that you missed an opportunity to get with someone you never thought would be interested in you.
Something.
Your inactive irritated him, and so he leaned in closer, his lips now hovering above yours, the scent of his perfume, sweat, and alcohol made him addictive.
“What’s stopping you right now?”
You were breathless, but you know you had to answer. He’s got a bit of authoritativeness in him and you feel like refusal consequent to a punishment.
“You.”
“I can stop if you're uncomfortable,” Winwin smiles, not the perverted kind, but the sweet reassuring kind that made you melt inside. "But the way you're holding me right now tells me otherwise."
He carefully placed his hands on your hip, calculating his every move to not get slapped that evening. It worked. You didn't even pick up a fight, even as his hands glided to your back to finally seal the distance between the two of you.
"So tell me, do you want me to stop?"
You had a clear answer in your head, but no sounds come out of your mouth except small squeaks and squeals due to his touch. It took you a while to utter the following words to him.
"No. Don't stop."
"Good." That was his only response. He took your answer as a sign of your consent and pushed you back to the wall, finally claiming your lips as he does so. You moaned under him, unable to tell him about how overwhelmed you are, and that you don't know how to move and match his pace. You take a deep breath and relaxed, letting him take the lead as he hugged you closer, going deeper into the kiss. He also made sure to give attention to your neck and jaws, which leaves you to place your lips in any piece of skin that you're able to reach the moment.
Before anything fun happens though, he pulled away from you, leaving you there in confusion.
"More?"
"More." This time, it was you who initiated the kiss. Slowly, you get traces of the old Sicheng back. The shy and quiet kid from before, not the confident sex demon that he was a few minutes back.
He had the mind to open his bedroom door, which was just a few inches away from where the two of you were just standing. The idea of him having common sense made him a lot sexier. It was enough to tickle that sapiophile in you.
In a few careful steps, your back hits the bed and he was on top of you. It seems like he was uncomfortable with that idea, and so he carried you in his arms and switched the positions, leaving you on top of him. You can still tell that he was very drunk, and he might not be able to do things with full precision in that state. Again, his sense is sexy.
You took that as a sign to take over, so you pulled away to try and fix the position into something more comfortable. When you did though, you were horrified to see that your lipstick was not kiss-proof, and so he some of it smeared all across his face and neck. It didn't bother him at all though because he used his perfectly white shirt to wipe some of it off of his face.
"Well?" You were snapped back into reality and proceeded to sit on his lower torso, kissing him with the same intensity that you did earlier. He happily returned the favor, making sure to place his hands on your sensitive skin, giving you goosebumps all over.
He was the first one to take off his shirt, throwing it into the side of the bed to take some of the heat off his body. You followed the suit, discovering that you made a good call earlier by wearing something sexy underneath. It was supposed by making you feel confident as you blend in with the crowd earlier, but it was a happy coincidence that it matched with the lipstick that you had earlier.
He sat down from the bed, leaning against the bedframe, just so he can reach you better. His fingers twirled around the straps of your bra, bringing them down slowly and let them fall to your shoulders. You helped him out by unclasping the hook, removing it completely from your body. It has now joined the pile of discarded clothing below the bed.
His eyes now fall on your half-naked body, gulping down a few times before he said, "I never really took you as the type to do this." You placed a finger in his chins and scooted closer.
"Me neither." You placed a few, quick pecks on his lips, which slowly turned back into a more passionate one, tasting the aftertaste of alcohol in each other's mouth. His hand traveled upwards, cupping a boob softly. The touch sent shivers throughout your body. He started kneading it softly, matching the current pace of the kiss. In between kisses, he staring spewing out nonsense, like how beautiful you looked at that light and how soft your skin feels under his skin. This is the most talkative he's been since you first saw him, and you can't tell if it's the alcohol or he's just that noisy in bed. Nonetheless, you were elated. Every piece of flattery that he says made you blush, making you glow even more in his eyes.
But his favorite will always be your lips. He loved it when your lips left red marks on his neck. He loved it when you moan his name every time his hand would caress you. He made sure to let you know that your pretty lips would be something that he can't forget.
He takes off the rest of your clothes. Even as he dipped his fingers inside you, he made sure to claim your lips, keeping it occupied as much as he can. It's the only thing that's keeping him hooked, even when his body is telling him to shut down.
You couldn't wait any longer, and so you scooted down and took off his pants and underwear, rolling it off him as quickly as you can. You didn't wait for him to respond, taking it in your mouth instead, earning a surprised gasp from him. You can hear him whining from under you, moaning your name, and as your mouth takes all of him. It didn't take a while though, because he motioned you to stop and come closer. He was breathless after you were done with him.
He reached out for the desk rights beside his bed, feeling out the drawers before he managed to pull out a foil packet. He carelessly ripped it with his teeth and grabbed the condom inside to hand it to you. You realized that his vision must still be blurry, and so you took the liberty to unroll it in his cock and get on with it. Then, you carefully lined his dick to your entrance, lowering your body slowly, stretching you down until he was fully inside. He grabbed your hips and pushed inside further into you unexpectedly.
"Oh my god, Dong Sicheng!"
He laughed at the notion of you saying his full name in shock, but you were able to recover quickly and met his movements, which is getting quicker and harder every few minutes. Your head falls on his chest, muffling your moans with his skin as you tried your best to keep quiet and hide your presence from the rest of the people in the party. More lipstick stains scatter on his chest, but at that point, Sicheng never cared. He wasn't feeling like himself anymore. His thoughts are empty besides the image of you on top of him, riding him out to orgasm.
Winwin is now getting rougher by the second, series of moans and curses spilling from his mouth as his grip on your waist gets tighter, drilling deeper and harder into you like a madman. You also threw all care away, moans now reaching all four corners of the room, holding on to Sicheng for your damn life as you get closer to your orgasm. In one quick thrust, you started to unravel on top of him, hugging his body closer as you shiver from your orgasm. He never slowed down, because he soon let out a long, drawn-out groan, and you can feel him growing soft inside you, milking out your orgasms as much as he can.
The activity did a number on Sicheng because, in a few minutes of cuddling from under his sheets, you can already hear the quiet snores coming from his direction. You felt bad, apologetic even, that he had to pour out all of his remaining energy on you that night. You slowly pulled away from him, picking the rest of your clothes off before you bid your roommate goodbye for tonight. As much as you loved the cuddles, you'd rather be caught dead than be caught by your brother under someone's bed.
///
"Please don't let any of this get to Hendery. He would never let me see the end of it." You pleaded, placing a hand on the bridge of your nose as you recall the moments of last night.
"I think your brother knows already. He's smarter than you think, just like how you're not as innocent as he thinks."
It was the first time that he smiled today, which gave you major flashbacks of last night's rendezvous.
"I was right about one thing last night, though. I'll never be able to forget those lips.”
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