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punkshort · 3 months

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Roommates | 7. jack and jill

Pairing: pornstar!joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel organize Tommy and Maria's bachelor and bachelorette party together, making it the first time you've spoken to each other since you moved out.

Chapter Warnings: language, discussions revolving mental health and therapy, insecurity issues, anxiety, angst, alcohol and food consumption, idiots in love but won't admit it, cigarette use, one bed couch trope

WC: 6.8K

Series Masterlist

Five Months Later

Everything was fine. Everything was going to be fine. There was no need to be nervous.

Okay, so you were going back to the house for the very first time since you moved out. You didn't count the time last month when you idled in the driveway in your car, waiting to pick Maria up to go to her dress fitting. You avoided it as much as you could, but eventually she asked you to come over to help with wedding planning. She wanted to look over the seating chart and because it was so big and she insisted on making a physical floor plan instead of a digital one, she guilted you into coming to the house.

You didn't have the nerve to ask if Joel would be there, but when you pulled up to the house, your stomach doing cartwheels and threatening to bring up your breakfast, Joel's truck was gone.

Relief and disappointment flooded you all at once.

When you approached the front door, your hand hovered over the doorknob. Should you knock? Do you just walk in? You stood there a minute too long, going back and forth, undecided, until the door swung open with Maria standing on the other side.

"What are you doing?"

"I don't know."

She rolled her eyes and opened the door wider. "Don't be weird," she told you as you slid past her into the familiar hall to kick off your sneakers.

Although the house was generally the same, it felt different now.

"Is anyone home?" you asked timidly as you followed her into the kitchen to grab some drinks.

"Tommy's got work," she replied, pulling a bottle of wine from the fridge. You took a deep breath and inwardly groaned. She was really going to make you work for it.

"And... Joel?"

She stopped and looked at you like you were speaking another language. "Have you still not spoken to him?"

You chewed on your lower lip and her shoulders sagged.

"C'mon, you promised us you would work things out before you left."

"We will! I've just been... busy, I guess."

"It's been months. You need to talk to him," she scolded, brushing past you as she headed to the dining room table where her seating chart was all spread out. "We're getting close to the big day and you guys need to plan our Jack and Jill."

You cocked an eyebrow at her and took the glass she extended your way. "Jack and Jill?"

"Yeah, y'know, where the bachelor and bachelorette parties join into one big party?" You must have looked confused because she frowned and popped her hand on her hip. "I mentioned this three months ago."

"I know, I know, I just forgot."

"You need to get your shit together. You're my maid of honor! I need you."

"I will, I promise," you said firmly, taking a sip of wine. "I'll text him tomorrow and I'll set something up so we can start planning."

She eyed you up for a moment before dropping into a chair with a sigh. "Thanks. Sorry, I know this is tough but you guys gotta work things out. You're both too important to us."

"We will. Don't even give it another thought." You sat down across from her and glanced around while she opened up a notebook with her guest list. "So, where is he?"

"Well, if you would have called him in the past five months, you would know he moved out."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "When?"

"Like, two months ago, I think."

"Good. That's... good. Good for him."

"He bought a house."

You nearly choked on your wine. "He did?"

She nodded and bit back a grin. "A lot of things have changed. You'd be surprised."

"What's that mean?" you asked with a frown. She just shrugged.

"You'll have to talk to him and find out."

You tossed a piece of popcorn across the table at her and she giggled. "Enough about Joel. Let's get down to business. Like where am I going to put my Aunt Cathie when she refuses to speak to anyone on my side of the family?"

You tapped your chin and looked down at the poster. "Kitchen?"

In hindsight, picking a coffee shop was a bad idea. You were nervous enough as it was, the last thing you needed was extra caffeine. But still you found yourself sitting at a small table by the window twenty minutes before you were supposed to meet Joel, tapping your foot anxiously on the tile floor and turning around every time one of the doors opened.

To kill time, you stared down at your texts from earlier in the week, rereading them over and over, trying to pick up on his energy so you could get an idea of what you were walking into.

Hey

Then, two painful hours later:

Hey

I was hoping we could meet up sometime soon if you're free? Maria not so subtly pointed out we need to plan their Jack and Jill party.

You remembered at the time, the little text bubbles appeared and disappeared over and over, as if he were changing his mind until he finally sent:

Sure. Thursday?

Thursday works. Java Joint on third?

I can swing by after work around 4

Okay - looking forward to it :)

Then... nothing.

Maybe the smiley face was overkill.

You drained the last of your iced latte and got up to throw it in the trash. When you sat back down at your table, a flurry of activity caught your attention through the window. Three girls were bouncing on their heels and giggling into their palms, grabbing each other's shoulders with their phones in their hands as they spoke to none other than Joel fucking Miller. He had his sunglasses on and a white Henley shirt, the material stretching across his broad chest and arms. Paired with the confident smirk on his face, he looked devastatingly good. You watched with a twist of envy in your chest as the girls all took selfies with his arm wrapped around their shoulders before he finally jutted his thumb towards the coffee shop and gave them a final wave, turning on his heel and then heading in your direction. Once his back was turned, the girls collectively lost their shit while looking down at their pictures, but you couldn't pay them any more attention because Joel was about to walk through the door.

Butterflies burst in your stomach when he pushed his sunglasses on top of his head, locking eyes with you, and suddenly it felt like no time had passed at all. Memories of watching movies with your feet tucked under his thigh and making dinners together flashed before your eyes while you forced yourself to give him a shy wave.

He simply nodded in return and motioned towards the counter, indicating he was getting something to drink, and when his gaze finally left yours in favor of reading the menu, you let yourself fully take him in. He looked really fucking good. Something was different but you couldn't put your finger on it. Healthier, maybe? Or maybe he just looked happier now without all the stress you brought into his life.

He must have said something flirty to the barista because she giggled and the tips of her ears turned red and, after he paid, he sauntered down the counter, casually resting his elbow on the hard surface while scrolling his phone.

From the look of it, he was no where near as nervous as you felt, which just made your anxiety spike more.

The barista slid his coffee across the counter with a wide smile and he gave her a wink before turning to weave his way through the tables. You straightened up as he approached and tried to look normal.

"Hi."

He sat down across from you, putting his coffee down with a grunt. "Hey."

Your heart was practically wedged in your throat and your fingers wouldn't stop tapping nervously on the table.

"H-how are things?"

He shrugged and took a sip from his cup. "Alright. Busy."

He was looking everywhere but your eyes. You supposed you deserved that, but it still stung.

"How's work?"

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "We don't gotta do this, y'know."

"Do what?"

"This," he said, waving his finger back and forth between you. "We can be civil for the sake of Tommy and Maria but we don't gotta pretend this is somethin' it ain't."

You tried to hide the hurt from your eyes but he must have clocked it because he pinched the bridge of his nose and made a frustrated sound.

"Don't gimme that look."

"I'm not," you replied defiantly, staring down at your fingers now. "I'm sorry, Joel. For all of it."

"You made that pretty damn clear when you left."

Your eyes snapped up to him as he took another sip from his coffee and looked around the café. Then your gaze fell onto the writing on his cup: a name with a phone number and a little heart and your stomach rolled but you took a deep breath, just like you practiced, and let it go.

"I didn't leave because I regretted it," you whispered. His eyes finally landed on you, patiently waiting for you to speak again. "I left because I couldn't stay away from you."

His eyes softened but he remained quiet, so you took a shaky breath in and continued.

"I needed time to think over what I did and why I did it and what I really want," you nervously began to shred your straw wrapper as you spoke. "And I couldn't do that with you so goddamn close because there's just something about you that drives me fucking crazy."

His lips twitched. "Crazy in what way?"

You sighed and slumped down in your chair. "Crazy as in every time I see you I want to kiss you and laugh with you and tell you about my day and just... be near you."

"Then why the hell didn't you wanna try 'n make it work?"

"Because of your job," you groaned pathetically, knowing full well you sounded like a broken record. "It's not your fault, Joel, it's mine. I have... issues. But I'm working on it. I've started seeing a therapist-"

"What issues?" he pressed.

"Jealousy, insecurity, self-doubt, anxiety... you name it."

He took a deep breath and readjusted in his chair so he was facing you instead of the café. "I didn't know you were goin' through all that. Is it helpin'?" he asked softly, and for the first time you thought you heard the Joel you used to know.

"Yeah, but it's hard," you replied. "It takes a lot of work to change the way you think and react to something. But I'm trying. Really, I am. Because-" you took a deep breath and raked your fingers through your hair. "No one makes me happy the way you made me happy. And I really, really fucking miss you." Tears welled up in your eyes that you quickly blinked away. Crying in the middle of a coffee shop was not on your list of things to do that day.

"What are you tryin' to tell me?" he asked, dropping his head so he could catch your eye. "Hm? Say it."

"I know I blew my chance with you and I don't deserve another one, but can we please try to be friends again?"

His gaze bounced back and forth between your eyes, studying your expression before slowly straightening up in his seat. "Friends?"

You nodded weakly, your lips pressed into a thin line.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he considered it.

"What'll that look like?"

You frowned and gave him a little shrug. "Joke around. Inquire about each other's lives. Help each other out. Be supportive of one another."

He nodded along as you listed everything off with a confused look on your face, unclear as to why he was asking you to define friendship. "That's it?"

"What do you mean?"

"That's all you want?"

And there it was again: that undeniable pull, that undercurrent of tension bonding you together, making you question every word and every look.

"Yes," you finally answered quietly. It was a lie, of course, but you were too scared to put yourself fully out there. You already felt vulnerable enough with what you confessed and you couldn't stand the rejection if you told him the truth.

He ticked his jaw to the side and you could have sworn in that moment, he saw right through you. But maybe you were wrong, because his next words were -

"Alright, then. Let's be friends."

Your eyes lit up as he pulled out his phone and opened his calendar app.

"Thank you, Joel."

He nodded without looking up. "What weekend were you thinkin' for this party?"

"So you two kissed and made up?"

You scowled at Maria over the aisle at a local florist.

"We did not kiss, thank you."

She grinned and rolled her eyes before picking up a deep pink carnation. "It's a figure of speech, but you never know."

"Things are fine. I mean, they aren't like they were before, I doubt it ever will be, but you have nothing to worry about. We can be in the same room together without anything getting weird. I don't like that one," you added when she picked up a red poppy. She plunked it back down in the bucket and kept browsing.

"Good. And how's the party planning?"

"Really good, we're almost all done. I just need to pick up the shirts and the favors and we should be good to go."

"I can't thank you enough for organizing this for us, I'm so excited! It's gonna be the best weekend ever," she gushed, picking up a few other flowers in similar shades of pink.

"Well, hopefully your actual wedding will be a better weekend, but I appreciate the sentiment," you giggled.

"How are we doing ladies? Do you have any questions?" asked the florist, an older man who was wearing a Hawaiian shirt. Maria launched into a laundry list of questions and you grinned before leaning against the register and pulling out your phone. You had to actively stop yourself from opening up your text chain with Joel. In the past, aside from Maria, he was your person. He was the one you always texted silly things to whenever you were bored or lonely. Even though he agreed to be friends again, it had yet to feel the same. In fact, you still hadn't seen him since that day in the coffee shop. You had managed to do all the planning for the Jack and Jill over the phone, but you didn't want to tell Maria that. Something told you she would want you to try harder with him and you were too nervous to stick your neck out there. The shame you harbored for the way everything fell apart after the camping trip was too great.

"You wanna grab lunch?" she asked once she was done going over in excruciating detail the flowers she wanted in each bouquet and centerpiece.

"God, yes."

There was a nearby Mexican place you both loved so you ordered a couple margaritas while you waited for your food.

"Can I ask you a question that I've been dying to know the answer to but wanted to get you loosened up on booze first?"

You quirked an eyebrow at Maria and nodded hesitantly.

"Have you talked to Sam?"

You closed your eyes and groaned.

"Very briefly, only once. About a month after... you know."

She sipped her drink and nodded. "And?"

"It went about as well as you could expect. I tried to apologize but he was so hurt, I think I just made things worse."

"Thank god he got that new job. The timing couldn't have been better," she said, then winced when she saw the look in your face. "I'm sorry, I just meant at least you didn't have to worry about work being a factor. You had enough going on as it was."

"I know what you meant, it's okay," you assured her.

Maria stirred her drink with her straw for a moment, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence while you listened to Latin music over the speakers and blankly watched some soccer match that was muted on the TV over the bar.

"Can I ask you another messy question?" she finally asked. You grinned and shrugged.

"Go for it."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat and dropped your gaze to the table. "What was I gonna say? 'Oh, by the way, I'm fucking your boyfriend's brother behind my boyfriend's back?' You would have slapped me."

She laughed and leaned back in her seat to make room for the sizzling fajitas that got placed down in front of you both. She eagerly picked one up and began to pour salsa and sour cream on top before she spoke again.

"I don't think I would have slapped you, but I definitely would have made you to dump Sam and get with Joel."

"Yeah, that's not something I would have wanted to hear," you told her with a laugh.

"So," she said, wiping some sour cream from the corner of her mouth, "you didn't wanna date him because of his job, but fucking him was okay?"

You paused your chewing and gave her a blank stare. "What happened didn't make a ton of sense, but I can tell you this much: I was in deep denial over what was happening with Joel. I told myself it was just a friends with benefits thing and it didn't mean anything, but there's just something about him that I can't describe. Like we have some connection that's impossible to ignore, or something? Even the annoying things about him make me smile. I know I sound crazy, I'll shut up," you said when you noticed the incredulous look on Maria's face.

"Girl, you love him."

You balked and nearly choked on your taco. "No."

"Yes."

You shook your head and took a big sip from your margarita. "I care about him deeply but I'm not in love with him."

Maria widened her eyes in disbelief and looked back down at her food. "Okay... just sounds to me like something more."

You quickly changed the subject to her wedding dress, which easily distracted her while you let what she said about Joel marinate. Were you in love with Joel? Is that why you couldn't let Sam in? Were you that blind?

In the end, you decided to let it go. It didn't matter, anyway. What you had with Joel was over, and after the way things ended, you couldn't imagine a situation where he would ever want to give you another chance, assuming you could get past all your insecurities surrounding his profession. Therapy was helping, but you had a long way to go, and ultimately you were seeking help to better yourself overall, not to make things work with Joel.

Maria had told you Joel bought a house but for some reason, you imagined it was a small ranch house somewhere, not a gorgeous two-story relatively new build. Or so, it looked new as you walked up the driveway and stared at the new black roof and white siding. You could feel your heart beginning to beat faster the closer you got to his front porch, gripping the brown paper bag at your side with sweaty fingers.

Stop it, you're just leaving the shirts at his door, there's no need to be nervous.

You climbed the creaky wooden steps and looked at the two Adirondack chairs with a table in between and suddenly you felt a pit form in your stomach. Two?

Why hadn't it occurred to you before now that he could be seeing someone? What if he was bringing her as a date to the wedding?

Stop. It. Drop the bag and fucking go.

You nestled the paper bag behind one of the chairs and turned to leave when you heard the front door squeak open.

"What're you doin'?"

You closed your eyes and silently cursed to yourself before spinning around with a forced smile on your face, only to have it immediately slip with you saw Joel had greeted you completely shirtless with his hair a disheveled mess.

Shit.

"Hey, I'm, uh, just dropping off the shirts for the guys," you pointed to the paper bag, his eyes following your finger.

He opened the screen door, stepping out to pick it up and you had to look away. He was wearing basketball shorts and the material clung around his bulge just a little too well.

"Why didn't you just knock?"

"Um," you took a breath and met his gaze, refusing to let your eyes drop lower than his neck. "Didn't wanna bother you."

"It's no bother. You wanna come in?" he asked. You finally picked up on the gravelly sound to his voice once you were able to ignore his smooth, broad chest.

"Did you just wake up?"

He shrugged and gave you half a smirk while he held the door open.

"Worked late."

"Ah," you replied, gaze dropping to the porch while you rocked back and forth on your heels. Work.

"You comin' in or not? I'm lettin' flies in."

"Uh, sure," you finally decided, sneaking past him, purposely holding your breath so you wouldn't breathe in his intoxicating scent.

His front door opened into his living room, which was about how you expected it to look: a dark couch with a matching chair surrounding a glass coffee table in front of a big screen TV with green and blue plastic clamshell video game cases scattered on the floor.

"Want somethin' to drink?" he asked, brushing past you as he ambled into his kitchen. You followed, noting his house seemed to lack... something.

"Water's fine."

It was bare. That's what it was. It hit you when you were in the kitchen. He had all the essentials but there was no warmth, no decorations, no pictures.

"Did you just move in?" you asked, then thanked him when he handed you a bottle of water.

"'Bout three months ago."

"Oh," you replied before taking a slow sip of water, your eyes darting around the sparse kitchen. "It's nice," you finally said when you pulled the bottle from your lips.

At least you could be sure he wasn't living with a girl. His home practically screamed bachelor pad.

"Thanks. How's your ma?" he asked before picking up a half drank mug of coffee.

You leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed your arms. "She's good. She's already found a new boyfriend. And here I thought I was doing her a favor by moving in and keeping her company," you said with a soft laugh. "Now I feel like I'm in the way of her exciting social life."

Joel nodded and sat down at the kitchen table with a grunt, his legs spread wide as he leaned back into the chair.

"Been meanin' to apologize to you," he said, staring down at his coffee sitting on the table. "Shoulda been there to help you move out, or at least say bye. I'm real sorry 'bout that."

That took you by surprise.

"You don't have anything to apologize for," you said immediately with a shake of your head. "It would have been too painful, anyway."

Joel took a deep breath through his nose. "Yeah, reckon that's why I bailed that day."

Neither of you said anything for a moment, both of you thinking back to that week when everything fell apart.

"I'm so sorry for what I did to you, Joel," you said quietly. He frowned and looked up.

"What you did to me?"

"Yeah. For pulling you into my mess and hurting you. It was never my intention, but I recognize it was my fault. I started it. I kissed you. I came to your room that day. It's all on me, okay?" You looked at him with raw pain in your eyes and he sighed.

"Darlin', if you didn't start it, I would've. It ain't all on you," he told you softly.

You nodded and you felt tears welling up in your eyes, so you dropped your gaze to the floor and pressed your lips into a thin line, trying to stifle your emotion, but Joel could see it.

"It was fun while it lasted though, huh?" he joked, then grinned when you laughed and swiped away a stray tear.

"Yeah," you sniffled with a smile.

Joel pursed his lips and looked back down at his mug, his middle finger gently tracing the lip of the ceramic when he asked, "you seein' anyone?"

You shook your head. "No. I think it's probably best I take some time to work on myself first."

The same question for him was on the tip of your tongue but you couldn't bring yourself to ask because if the answer was yes, you weren't sure you were ready to hear it.

"Well, anyway," he said with a slap to his thighs, "everythin' ready for tomorrow? Need me to do anythin'?"

You smiled and shook your head. "Just handle the guys and I'll handle the girls. I have all the money to pay the limo bus driver. Did you have enough for the booze?"

"Mhm, no problem there," Joel said after taking a sip from his now lukewarm coffee.

The goal was to bar crawl some local spots in downtown Austin and in between, party on the limo bus.

"Just make sure to have a good playlist ready so we can connect to the speakers on the bus," you told him as you headed for the front door.

"Y'leavin'?" he asked, getting up to follow you. You shrugged and slid your shoes back on.

"Yeah, unless there was something else?"

He scratched his beard while he struggled to come up with anything that might make you stay. It just felt too nice to have you around again and he didn't want it to end.

"No, nothin' else," he finally said. "See you tomorrow."

Back to the scene of the crime, you almost let slip, but fortunately common sense kicked in and said, "Tommy and Maria's, 8pm so you can help me pack up the bus before everyone arrives."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, leaning against the doorframe as he watched you jog down his porch steps, tossing one more wave over your shoulder before getting into your car. As he watched you drive away, he tried to stifle that familiar, desperate feeling he always felt whenever you left and forced himself to go back inside.

The party bus was already wild before it reached the end of the street. You just sat down after passing around Jell-O shots and making sure the snacks and waters you brought were readily available to the entire bus when Maria shoved a solo cup in your hand.

"What's this?" you asked over the roar coming from the speakers blaring AC/DC and the guys screaming along to the lyrics after they all did a toast to Tommy, throwing back shots of tequila.

"Jungle juice!" she replied with a grin. You took a sip and raised your eyebrows in surprise.

"Not bad!"

The lights on the bus dimmed and you looked up to find Joel playing around with the knobs at the front of the bus. Suddenly, brightly colored lights that lined the floor and roof of the bus turned on, painting everyone in a red glow that faded to orange then to all the colors of the rainbow.

"Come on, Tommy! Show us what you got!" one of Maria's bridesmaids yelled when Tommy stood up and leaned on the stripper pole in the middle of the floor for support when the bus took a turn.

"I ain't drunk enough yet, ladies!" he replied with a lopsided grin. Joel chuckled as he made his way back to his seat.

"What about you, Joel?" she asked, then all the groomsmen began whooping and pumping their fists, encouraging him, but he shook his head and sat down.

"Gotta pay me extra for that," he smirked. He brought his beer to his lips and glanced briefly in your direction before looking away.

The whole bus was wearing matching white shirts with Tommy and Maria's names printed on the back with the date of their wedding and a note at the bottom that, depending if you were a girl or a guy, said if found, please return me to the bride/groom.

On the front of the shirts was a big box where everyone could tally all the drinks and shots they had that evening with the sharpie necklaces you handed out as everyone boarded the bus. So far, most people had at least one drink or shot under their belts.

"Alright, who wants to play Tipsy Hoe?" you called out while holding up a stack of index cards. The bus cheered so you began to explain the rules. "We pick one card with a specific word on it that nobody's allowed to say. The person who says it first has to take a shot and then we pick another one."

Another of Maria's bridesmaids eagerly volunteered to pick the first card. You fanned them out as she carefully chose one from the middle and read it. "The word is Bride!" she announced, and half the bus collapsed into laughter.

"Take a shot, you can't say it! Just hold it up!" you giggled when she laughed and buried her face in her hands. "Okay, go again."

After taking a shot and drawing another tally mark on her shirt, she picked another card and this time, held it up for everyone to see: dress.

"What's that say? I can't read it?" Joel teased from the back, and she stuck out her tongue.

"Ha ha, not falling for it."

You sat back down and took a sip from your cup before leaning into Maria's side to take a few selfies only for them to come out completely blurry from the dim lighting, but you saved them anyway.

Joel brushed past the two of you to go to the front of the bus and direct the driver on where to drop the group off for the first bar, and as the bus slowed down, most people chugged the rest of their drinks and added a mark to their shirts before standing up and filing out the door.

"Jesus, Tommy, when'd you have four drinks?" Maria asked when she saw his shirt. He grinned and draped an arm around her shoulders.

"What can I say? The guys can be persuasive."

"Hey, don't you know that girl over there?" Joel asked when he suddenly appeared at your side with a cigarette hanging from his lips. He pointed over to a group of three girls standing right outside the bar with sparkly outfits on and heavy eyeshadow.

"Which one?"

"The one in the blue."

"The blue top or the blue dress?"

He smirked and shot you a wink before taking a deep drag of his cigarette. You groaned and slapped your palm to your face.

"I can't believe I fell for that."

He laughed, a plume of smoke rolling from his lips, then tossed the cigarette on the ground. "C'mon, I'll buy you the shot."

"It's the least you could do," you teased, following him inside past the bouncer. The bar was dark and really fucking loud as you weaved your way through the throngs of sweaty people until Joel managed to squeeze his way to the bar and flag down a bartender. While you waited for your drinks, you tried to locate the rest of the group, but the only people you saw were Maria and Tommy down at the other end of the bar with one other groomsman you didn't know very well.

"Bottoms up," Joel told you after handing you the shot and a mixed drink. You winced when you tossed it back, then handed him the empty glass. He pushed it back across the sticky bar along with his own empty shot glass then pointed to your shirt.

"Ah, right," you mumbled before uncapping the sharpie around your neck and scribbling a tick mark on the fabric. Joel stretched his own shirt out and you hesitated for just a second before drawing a quick mark on his shirt and tried not to focus too much on the sweat that had soaked through the collar already.

"You stayin' at Tommy and Maria's tonight?" he asked. He brought a bottle of beer to his lips and took a long sip but didn't take his eyes away from you.

"Yeah, I can't imagine driving home at this rate," you replied while motioning to your shirt with your free hand. He nodded and let his eyes drift around the room behind you, head nodding slightly to the beat of the music before he said, "Maybe we can watch a movie. Like old times."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "You're staying over, too?"

He nodded again and took another drink as your heart fluttered nervously in your chest. Maria conveniently failed to mention he was planning on staying the night, as well. Where the hell did she expect you both to sleep when there was only one couch?

You scanned the bar and found her laughing at something Tommy was saying, waving his hands around dramatically as he told some story. Narrowing your eyes, you hoped she could feel the heat from your stare, but of course she was oblivious.

Just as you were about to reply to him about the movie, you felt someone's arm snake around your waist right before their overpowering cologne made you gag.

"You wanna dance?" a voice slurred in your ear, and you immediately twisted away from his sour breath and turned to face him. He wasn't with your group, just some other patron, and he looked completely wasted. A thin sheen of sweat covered his neck and face and his eyes looked glassy as he stared down at you, waiting for an answer.

"Uh, no thank you! I was just leaving."

"Aw, come on, just one dance?" the stranger pushed with a lopsided grin but it just made him look even more sloppy.

"She's with me," Joel said defensively before tugging you closer and tucking you under his arm. You could smell his deodorant and soap and it instantly transported you back in time to the point where you had to fight the urge to bury your face against his chest and breathe deep.

"My bad," the guy said, raising his hands defensively before walking away.

"Thanks," you said so softly you weren't sure he could hear you over the music, but he did. He dropped his arm and cleared his throat as you tried to create a bit of space between you again without being awkward, but it was hard to do.

"I hope you don't feel like you can't dance with other guys 'cause I'm here," he said.

"No, I know, I'm just not looking for... that right now," you assured him before taking a long sip from your drink and glancing around the bar.

"Right, you mentioned that," he replied. The topic of your love life caused a heavy silence to settle between you even though you were surrounded by noise. Right when you were about to make an excuse and leave, he spoke again.

"How's all that goin', by the way? Therapy?"

"It's... going okay," you said. What was he getting at?

He tossed back the rest of his beer and slid the empty across the bar.

"Okay enough to start datin' again soon?"

You swallowed nervously. Was he asking for a specific reason?

The look on your face made him switch gears because he grinned and shrugged. "Friends ask 'bout each other, right?"

Oh.

"They do."

He nodded, his smile faltering a moment when his gaze slid to your lips before he forced himself to look away. "C'mon, let's find the rest of the party." Then he took your hand and led you through the crowd.

Stop it, get it together, he's just being nice, like you asked, you told yourself. But you really, really hoped you were wrong.

"Here's some extra pillows and blankets," Maria sang gleefully with a shit eating grin.

"I can't believe you," you seethed quietly so Joel wouldn't hear you from downstairs.

"What? I forgot Tommy told Joel he could stay over," she said with a tipsy shrug.

"I'm half tempted to call an Uber."

"Don't you fucking dare. Now be an adult and go sleep with your ex," she giggled, giving your shoulder a shove to make you move towards the direction of the stairs.

"Hilarious," you replied dryly, but before you took another step she pulled you into a hug.

"Thank you so much for tonight, we had such a," she hiccuped before pulling away, "great time."

You blew her a kiss before giving her the finger. "Love you."

"Love you, too!" she practically shouted, and you turned around halfway down the stairs to shush her. She slapped her hands over her mouth and giggled before stumbling into her bedroom and shutting the door.

"Wha' the hell was she shoutin' for?" Joel asked groggily from his spot splayed out on the couch, remote control hanging limply from his fingers as he blinked at the TV, trying to clear his vision.

"Nothing. Here," you said, tossing him a pillow and blanket. He reached out to catch them but missed, then started to giggle when he accidentally slid from the couch onto the floor to pick them up. You grinned and threw yours on the other end of the couch and wandered into the kitchen, returning with two bottles of ice cold water. "Drink this," you said with a yawn. He took it and you plopped down on the other end of the couch while Joel flicked through title after title on one of the many streaming services Tommy and Maria had.

While Joel continued to browse, you shifted uncomfortably before setting down your water and reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. With practiced ease, you pulled it out from under your shirt without having to remove any clothes and tossed it on the floor. Joel's eyes widened when he saw it and looked at you.

"Don't get any ideas, I just can't sleep in a bra."

He smirked before picking a romcom and settling in under his blanket. "Next you gonna tell me you can't sleep with panties on?"

You snorted and felt your cheeks flush but thankfully the lights in the living room were off, leaving only the glow from the television to light the room.

"You wish."

The alcohol was making both of you way flirtier than you intended to be, so you shut up. You watched the movie hazily for a while, laughing softly at Hugh Grant's charismatic humor. It was quiet for so long that you had assumed Joel fell asleep until he suddenly spoke again.

"This's nice."

You rolled your head to the side and smiled at him. "Yeah, it is."

He smiled back, his eyes bright from the glow from the television, cheeks still a little pink from the booze as he looked you up and down. "C'mere."

You pinched your eyebrows together. "Why?" you asked slowly. He rolled his eyes and waved you over.

"Jus' get your ass over here."

With a sigh, you scooted over to his end of the couch and once you got close enough, he threw his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. You let out a quiet oof when the side of your face came in contact with his chest, but god the way he smelled had you reeling for the second time that night. Even with the lingering scent of cigarette smoke and spilled liquor, he still smelled amazing. He smelled like him. A comforting smell you missed so much in the past five months that it almost hurt to have it back again.

His hand gently stroked your back as you watched the movie. The steady thrum of his heart beating against your ear combined with the alcohol and his warmth made your eyelids droop and before you knew it, you were out like a light. When Joel realized you were asleep, he looked down at you and smiled before turning off the television and slowly rotating you both so you were laying (albeit, scrunched) together along the couch. His arm remained wrapped around you and your face was buried against his chest with one of your legs draped over one of his and everything finally felt right again.

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#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel tlou #joel miller tlou #joel x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us au #roommates fic

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dirtylittleheart333 · 3 months

Text

DEATH OF ME

Watching Chris shaving does things to you...and you're going to do things to him.

Paring: Chris x f reader Contents: 18+ Smut. Edging. Oral. Penetration. More.

‘’Good morning,’’ you said cheerfully as you walked through the threshold from the bedroom into the bathroom. The dark tiles were cool under your feet as you walked to Chris, standing in front of the basin, a fluffy sage green towel wrapped low around his waist. He had just rinsed his mouth; the smell of minty toothpaste clinging to the air and he was putting his toothbrush away when you smacked his hard, sexy ass.

Chris burst out laughing and shook his head as you giggled and hopped onto the dark top counter between the two basins. You flashed him a big smile as he reached out with his hand, grabbed your chin, and brought your face closer to his, meeting halfway.

‘’Good morning, gorgeous,’’ he said, in a husky morning voice, and planted a kiss on your lips. When he pulled from the kiss, he grinned, ‘’hmmm, coconut today,’’ he said of the lip balm now transferred to his lips.

‘’Yup,’’ you said and reached over to your side of the basin and grabbed a bottle of perfume. You sprayed two pumps on either side of your neck and put it back as he looked at you and scratched his stubble, fist on his chin, then carried on scratching up his cheek.

‘’I gotta shave. That new? What’s that called? It smells good,’’ he said, and dropped his hand onto your knee.

‘’Good girl,’’ you replied and Chris let out a rambunctious laugh, making you smile. You loved his laugh – it had a way of bringing light to the darkest of days. It was always genuine, authentic and filled with joy.

‘’Good girl? You’re far from a good girl y/n!’’ he teased and squeezed your knee.

‘’I…I…yes…I can be,’’ you said feigning shock and stuttering a little making Chris laugh again, as he raised his brows in disbelief

‘’Okay,’’ Chris said sarcastically, rolling his eyes, ‘’stay there, I’ll be right back.’’

‘’But…but I can be,’’ you called after him as he left the bathroom. You got no reply as you started swinging your legs and secured your towel wrapped around your body, tucking it in tighter. A minute later Chris walked back into the bathroom, giving you a big grin, and put a piece of paper on the lid of the closed toilet lid.

‘’We're just going have a normal conversation...you and me…I’m gonna shave and you’re going to tell me why you always walk around for half an hour with your towel wrapped around you after you’ve showered and brushed your teeth and you do…all the things you woman do,’’ he said, and waved a hand around before he opened the tap and splashed water onto his stubble., then filled the basin with water.

‘’I didn’t think it bothered you,’’ you said, tilting your head slightly to the side

‘’Oh, baby girl. There is nothing you do that bothers me, especially walking around in just a towel knowing you have nothing under there. How many times have we fucked because of that?’’ he said and grabbed his tin of shaving gel and shook the can. ‘’I could fuck you every time, but I try to be a good boy sometimes to see how long I can hold out.’’

‘’Yeah? How often does the good boy win?’’ you asked and bit your bottom lip

‘’Not often,’’ Chris said with a laugh and popped the lid off the can. He cupped his left hand and sprayed a blob into it, the colored gel expanding as it turned into a while foam.

You curled your bottom lip between your teeth and placed your palms flat on the counters edge on either side of your legs. Your fingers curled around the edge and you gripped it firmly as the scent of the shaving foam drifted your way. The masculine, clean notes filled with a spicy undertone was arousing to you while you tried to pull your eyes off of him as he rubbed his hands together and then lifted them to his face.

You had always found Chris shaving sexy as fuck. It was so… incredibly masculine, so raw. It was the way he concentrated. It was the way his muscles flexed when he lifted the razor and pushed it lightly against his flesh. It was the way he glided the razor over the stubble, the contours, and chiselled jaw to leave softer-than-soft skin.

‘’What?’’ Chris asked with a smile looking at you in the big mirror before him as he smoothed the cream onto his cheeks.

‘’It’s…strange how I never know if I prefer you with stubble or without,’’ you replied

‘’Good thing you can have both ways every day,’’ he said and rinsed his hands

‘’True,’’ you said and grinned when you saw his eyes travelling up and down your body in the mirror.

‘’It’s kind of hot in here from both of us showering,’’ you said and watched as the corners of Chris mouth twitched after he had licked his lips.

‘’It is baby girl,’’ he responded and picked up his razor

Fuck. You pushed yourself off the counter just as Chris put the razor to his face and you began making your way to the door.

‘’Uh, where are you going?’’ Chris asked and quickly put his razor down and stepped to the door. Since he was closer he got there first and he pushed the door closed.

‘’I’m going out. Leaving the bathroom. So you can shave,’’ you said and flashed him a grin.

‘’I want you here though. Don’t you touch that door,’’ Chris said and stepped back to the basin. He picked his razor up again and began shaving.

‘’Oh?’’ you asked softly and pulled your towel loose, letting it drop to the tiles. Chris’s eyes flicked to your reflection and he stopped shaving, holding the razor perfectly steady in place. A smile curved on his lips. He moved his gaze back to himself and continued shaving.

‘’You’ve never told me how you keep your little pussy so damn smooth,’’ Chris asked

You waited a few seconds before answering, knowing he would look at you if you didn’t answer immediately. Aaaand, there it was. He shifted his eyes to look at you again and you gave him a seductive smile as you slid your finger between your slit.

‘’Oh, lazer hair removal,’’ you said and Chris flinched ever so slightly when saw your finger at your pussy. You knew he had nicked himself, but you also knew it wasn’t bad – he never cut himself badly. It was, if he did, the tiniest of nicks.

‘’It’s not gonna work, baby girl,’’ Chris mumbled ever so softly under his breath. It was so soft you weren't sure if you had actually heard him correctly, but when his eyes moved to you again, you knew you had heard right.

You let out a breath, a smile on your face as you padded back to the counter and hopped on again, Chris’ eyes following you. The second your ass hit the top, he pulled his eyes away and looked at himself again. You lifted your leg closest to him and put your foot on the counter, then you turned your head and rested it on your knee, your cheek a makeshift cushion.

He really was a sexy fucker. You had studied him many times, like this or while he was sleeping and you lay away with insomnia. From his hair still damp at the tips to the tip of his nose, his lips, his jaw, his earnings just catching the light…he was perfect. You watched as he moved the razor to his cheek closest to you and a shiver ran down your spine as he dragged the razor. He then lifted it, brought it down to the basin, and rinsed it, the sounds of the water reminding you of…

You closed your eyes and squeezed them shut, breathing in the scent of the shaving cream again.

‘’Chris?’’ you said softly

‘’Yeah baby girl?’’ he asked and clearly looked at you because you heard him put the razor down quickly and then you felt him gently placing his hand on your leg. ‘’You okay babe? What’s up?’’ he asked, concern filling his voice

You opened your eyes and looked into his. They changed from worry to relief to love in a matter of seconds as a smile crossed his gorgeous lips.

‘’Drop the towel,’’ you said and Chris let out a short laugh and pulled his hand away from your leg bringing it to his waist. You watched, your heart beating faster as his fingers grabbed the fluffy material and gave it one good tug before it fell the short distance from his body to the floor. A groan escaped your luscious lips and he grinned at you before picking the razor up again. He only had two more strokes left.

You lifted your head and let your leg drop back down to dangle off the counter again. Chris's eyes swept over you again before he put the blade back to his face but not before he had to shift on his spot. You grinned, as every nerve in your body tingled with pure pleasure. He had a perfect ass, not to mention a perfect dick that was coming alive with every breath.

You tired to ignore the rapid wetness between your legs but you couldn’t ignore the little pulses as you bit your bottom lip. ‘’I want to see your dick. I want to watch it drip pre-cum while you’re busy.’’

‘’I’m going to fuck you so hard tonight,’’ Chris said with a laugh and looked at you as your hungry eyes tentatively looked at his dick.

‘’I don’t know how much harder we could get. You fuck me senseless most of the time, Chris. How do you get hard so fucking quickly?’’ you asked

‘’It’s what you do to me. That’s all you. It remembers where it’s been and wants to go back. It’s like…home. Can’t blame it, really’’ Chris said throwing you a grin, and threw the razor into the sink with water, making a plopping sound.

He turned to you and wrapped his fingers around his shaft and stroked himself slowly and a moan escaped your parted lips as pre-cum formed on the tip of his dick, glistening in the light.

"Oh fuck," you moaned, and lifted your hand, curling your pointer finger, beaconing him,‘’Chris, baby…come here.’’

Chris grinned wider and stepped over the towel, as you shifted yourself and opened your legs even wider. When he stopped in front of you, sliding between your legs, you smiled at him and lifted your hand, then gently placed it on his soft, smooth cheek and brushed some foam off the tip of his nose.

‘’So smooth,’’ you said softly and tilted your head only slightly to the side and pressed your lips softly to the tiny nick on his cheek. ‘’I’m sorry,’’ you said, whispering this time.

‘’Just like you,’’ Chris said huskily, his hands gliding up your thigh, ‘’and I’ll take a million cuts for you.’’

"Turn around,’’ you murmured with a smile

Chris raised his brows, a curious look on his face, but his smile grew as he twisted, amazed at the power of so few words. With Chris between your legs, he felt your breasts press softly into his back as you wrapped your arms around him, sucking slowly on his neck. Your fingertips danced over his nipples, as you sunk your teeth into the flesh of his neck, drawing out a groan from him. His hands gripped your legs as you slid your hands down his torso, down his stomach and his dick twitched, the tip glistening with pre cum, anticipating your heavenly hands. Wanting desperately to taste him, you slid one of your hands over the head collecting his pre-cum, and you brought it up to your mouth as your free hand took over, grabbing his dick, your fingers curling around his thick, hard, long shaft.

Making sure you were close to his ear, you licked your fingers, softly, moaning, sending a shiver running up his spine, and goose bumps running down his arm.

‘’You taste so fucking delicious,’’ you whispered and began pumping him…slowly at first but progressively building it up to where he dug his fingers into your thighs and bucked his hips in rhythm with you. "Ohhh, ffffuck." he moaned, his breathing starting to labor, his grip on your thighs increasing. "Don't you cum," you whispered into his ear, squeezed harder, milking his dick, "Don't you fucking cum. Ride the edge, baby."

Chris was moaning, lost in the overstimulation. He felt his orgasm rise from within himself, his head falling back onto your shoulder and his body went rigid, his orgasm was about to swallow him whole. You knew all the tell-tail signs and you smiled, then released your hand around his dick. "Not quite yet, baby,’’ you said, wrapping your arms around him, as he turned his face so he could kiss you. You smiled at him, at his eyes completely glazed over and lost in the moment. His lips curved into a smile before he captured your lips, sliding his hand back into your hair and pulling you closer as his other stroked your thigh.

When the hungry, frantic kiss ended you giggled, "I'm sorry, baby. I want your cum in me. In my pussy." Chris turned back around, his dick trailing pre-cum as it dragged along on your thigh, his hands cupping your titties as he smiled.

‘’You’re gonna be the death of me. I fucking love you with an ache I’ve never felt before,’’ Chris said and dropped his hands onto the tops of your legs. He gave you a cheeky, devilish grin before he gripped them tightly and yanked them wider, making you gasp. You pushed your arms back to steady yourself, your hands flat on the countertop as Chris ducked between your legs. Looking down, Chris’s eyes slid up your body before his eyes met yours, his mouth just inches from your pussy. You both smiled and Chris’s eyes dropped again. He sucked in a breath when a drop of your sweet juice made a tiny rivulet and ran down your pussy, tempting, teasing him. He restrained himself from taking his dick and pushing into you, instead, he lifted his eyes again and slid his tongue over you. Your face scrunched up while your smile folded, parting your lips as you let the pleasure course through your body. Chris was a master – he knew exactly which spots to tongue fuck, lick, kiss, and suck.

‘’Oh fuck yes!’’ you moaned, rocking your hips, rubbing your slit over his mouth and tongue as he worshipped you, devouring your pussy. Chris groaned biting softly before pulling away slowly, but you lifted a hand off the counter and planted it on the back of his head, not wanting him to stop.

Chris laughed and shook his head slightly, hooking his arms around your thighs. He pulled you hard, your ass sliding on the counter top, bringing you even closer to him so you were melting into him. He lifted your ass off the counter and nothing could have prepared you for the way he ate you out.

‘’Jesus, Chris,’’ you moaned, throwing your head back as he reached your clit. He nudged it with his tongue and circled it over and over, drenching it in saliva before placing his lips on it, sucking wet and hard. You were gushing in his mouth, panting, searching desperately for your release. He placed your one leg over his shoulder to free a hand, bringing it to your pussy. He slipped two fingers in and released his lips from your clit for a second to smile – you were so tight and so wet, but he got back to work the second you ground your hips and moaned loudly.

‘’Yes, yes, yes Chris!. Fuuuuuck. I'm gonna cum,’’ you groaned and he pressed his face harder into your pussy. Moan’s bubbling out of you as your body quaked with pleasure and then went rigid. He slipped his fingers out as you ground your pussy into his mouth and gushed your wetness into it.

Chris sucked and swallowed, moaning as he drank your cum down all while making sure he had a good grip on you for when you came down from your pure bliss. When your legs started shaking, Chris pulled away from your pussy and watched you, enjoying watching all of you while making sure you were okay. "You eat pussy so fucking good," you said between breaths coming down from your high, smiling like the cat who got the milk. Almost. Soon. Chris gently lowered your leg as you slid back, and up into place, still shaking a little. ‘’Only for you baby,’’ Chris replied and placed his thumb on your chin, the rest under it, tilting your head up. ‘’You okay?’’

‘’More than. It’s time to fill my pussy,’’ you replied with a smirk

‘’I’m with you and more than happy to oblige,’’ Chris said and in one quick, smooth move he easily scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder while you squealed in surprise.

You laughed, draped over his shoulder, as his arm held your upper legs while you kicked with your lower legs as he turned, ‘’I unlocked the caveman!’’ you said through your laughter and smacked his ass.

‘’Fuck!’’ Chris said through a laugh and smacked your ass back, only harder. He knew it too, because he gently rubbed it as soon as the whack sound reverberated around the bathroom. He absolutely knew you could take it though – more than.

Chris wasted no time and threw you onto the bed as soon as he reached it. You squealed again, bouncing slightly, but you steadied yourself with your hands and feet on the cloud-like comforter. Chris grinned as he got onto the bed and steadied himself between your legs.

‘’I have a surprise for you. Let me up when you feel you’re at around the half way mark,’’ you said opening your legs wider

‘’Half way mark? Fuck, babe, how -’’ Chris said as he burst out laughing

‘’Just try,’’ you said, lifting a foot and putting it on his chest and pushing him playfully, chest heaving with excitement, eyes filled with need and lust, pulling your foot back on the bed again. Chris grinned, then grabbed a fistful of your hair, tilting your head back hard and kissing you roughly. "Alright then."

You winked at him when he pulled back and sat between your legs, his knees digging into the bed, grabbing his dick, slowly pumping it, knowing you loved it.

‘’Just fuck me,’’ you said gripping the duvet with anticipation and Chris grinned. He spit on your pussy making you close your eyes and drop your head back, as you took in a sharp intake of air. It was so fucking hot when he did that. Your eyes snapped open though when he pressed the head of his dick into you, also lowering himself to kiss you. Your pussy clenched on his dick head and you moaned into his mouth as he slid slowly into you. Your pussy squeezed and squeezed, then slowly relaxed as he pushed deeper into you, inch by inch.

This was Chris’ favorite part. You were ecstasy to him and when he was inside you, he was one with you. He raised his hips and pushed fully into you, moaning at how good it felt. The way you hugged and squeezed his cock…then he pulled back and started thrusting like an animal in heat. He plowed into you without reprieve, the room growing warmer each second. You clung to the comforter like your life depended on it, almost nonstop moaning and growling with pleasure as he bottomed out inside of you with each hard, savage thrust.

He had no idea how long he had been ploughing into your and neither of you really cared when his orgasm rose in him like a demon.

‘’Ohhh fuck, Chris,’’ you said through clenched teeth as your own orgasm reached new hights as he rammed balls deep into you, slamming into your cervix. Chris looked at you, his eyes locked, breathing hard not knowing what to do. You were about to cum and he would never deprive you…he adored when you came but he knew you wanted to tell him when the half way mark was…he was far beyond the half way mark.

You reached out and grabbed his forearms, digging your nails into his flesh as your eyes grew wide, your lips parted, drawing in air. Chris saw your lips move but he was lost in his own orgasm pushing forward. When you closed your eyes and let out a scream to deafen the deaf, and you’re juices splashed again him, Chris's orgasm hit hard, filling you with his cum.

He kept pumping into you, even as his body instantly wanted to relax. His dick was still hard, so it only took a minute or two before his body started reacting the way he wanted it to. You felt him fill you up but said nothing when he continued pumping inside of you. You could never get enough of him and it only meant you would cum again soon. Chris sat back after a few more minutes though and took hold of your thighs, just behind the knees, as he slowly pumped in and out, in and out before he came to a stop and pulled slowly from you, making you groan with the absence of his big dick in you. "You are so perfect," he said, admiring your naked body, ‘’I’m sorry baby. When you started cumming, I -’’ "You’re perfect," you said, cutting him off, your eyes smoldering with desire. ‘’Don’t worry about it…just let me on top.’’

‘’I…’’ Chris said with a laugh and you looked down at his still hard dick, covered in combined cum and you tilted your head.

Chris burst out laughing and grabbed his harder-than-steel dick and gave your pussy a smack, ‘’alright. Let’s go,’’ he said and then slid onto the bed, next to you, on his back. You grinned at him and threw a leg over him and immediately impaled yourself onto his shaft, causing Chris to groan and reached for a tittie with one hand as the other grabbed your hip. Everything about you excited Chris and he knew your body so well, but each time he was with you it was like exploring new territory.

‘’Baby,’’ you said after a few minutes, ‘’you ready?’’

‘’For what?’’ Chris asked, quizzically

Your answer was to give him a sly smirk and lifting yourself off his dick but kept the tip in. With all the juices you were soaking and it was easy to turn, spinning yourself around before dropping down again. The maneuver was quick and efficient, leaving Chris stunned and more than impressed. You wasted no time as you began working your hips up and down. You stretched forward and grasped Chris’ ankles as you leaned forward, giving him a fantastic view of your ass and his dick sliding in and out of your tight pussy. Chris groaned and smacked one of your ass cheeks, then dug his fingers into your flesh. "I wasn't ready for this view," he groaned out. You smiled to yourself, and bit your bottom lip – he had no idea what was coming. You looked over your shoulder at Chris wanting to see this play out, so you sat back up, pulling your hand up his legs and then, his thighs to massage his balls. You stopped moving your hips; he was nestled inside your pussy and wasn’t going anywhere. ‘’Ah that feels so fucking good,’’ Chris murmured but he narrowed his eyes slightly when your lips curved up even more. He knew you too well and knew you were up to something but he still wasn’t prepared for what you did next.

Your fingers found a spot at the base of his scrotum, and along with your pussy squeezing along his shaft, it sent him right over the fucking edge. It was like a sudden punch to the stomach, taking his breath away and shocking all his senses. Before he knew what was happening, he was pouring a tidal wave of seed into your pussy.

You watched as his eyes rolled back and his head fell into the pillow, his lips open, moaning so loudly as his fingers gripped your hips, sinking into your flesh. A few minutes passed while he was in an almost vegetative state. His eyes focus again, as you lay next to him, your head propped up on your hand as your elbow dug into a pillow. A smile hadn’t left your face and you raised your brows. You could almost see Chris’ brain rebooting. "Jesus y/n, I told you, you were going to be the death of me," he said, clearly exhausted but he pulled you into a hug and you folded into his arms, pressing yourself into him. You reveled in his warmth and pressed a kiss to his lips.

‘’I fucking love you,’’ he said kissing you back

‘’I love you more than I have loved in my life,’’ you replied and Chris started laughing

‘’What?’’ you asked him

‘’Told you, you were anything but a good girl…but I wouldn’t want you any other way,’’ he said, and pushed his lips to yours once more before getting up.

‘’That’s what I want to do to you every time I see you shave,’’ you said smiling as you watched him walk to the bathroom.

‘’Then for the first time, I’m so fucking happy I have to shave everyday,’’ he said from the bathroom and emerged with the piece of paper he had written on earlier. He handed it to you and you took it gingerly, as you sat up.

You unfolded it and read, ‘’I'm writing this because I know you’re going to want to fuck me before we leave the bathroom. GOOD GIRL.’’

You grinned up at Chris, ‘’you won your own bet and I’m still a good girl. How good was that…that just happened?’’

‘’Ah fuck,’’ Chris said with laugh, ‘’fine, you’re a good girl and it was amazing. I definitely want more of that…for the third time today, you’re going to be the death of me. Come on,’’ he said and grabbed you, lifting you up and throwing you over his shoulder again, ‘’time to shower.’’

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it and you are loved and appreciated!

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #chris x reader #chris x fem reader

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sturnioloskyline · 7 months

Note

Matt x reader

The triplets are filming a random video and somewhere during the video they try smelling salts Chris calls reader to try them not telling her why it is and she has a funny reaction but a couple seconds after she has a massive nosebleed.<3

nosebleed

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings: language, smelling salts(?), blood, pain, yelling

summary: your boyfriend's brother makes you try smelling salts without a warning.

thank u for the request, anon! 😚

your boyfriend, matt, had invited you to spend the night with him at his and his brothers' house. you were sitting on the couch in their living room, scrolling on your phone while the triplets were all in the kitchen.

nick had informed his brothers just yesterday that they didn't have enough content for their vlog that was supposed to be out in a few days. as a result, the three of them had been carrying cameras around all day trying to record as much as they could.

chris had ordered something on amazon for his brothers to try on camera, and he was currently trying to convince them to do it for the vlog.

"c'mon, just try it!" chris giggled. his brothers looked at him as if he were insane.

"i don't trust you," nick said, his eyes flicking to the unlabelled bottle in chris's hand.

"yeah, just tell us what it is chris," matt agreed with nick, backing away from chris.

"ugh, just try it! it'll be funny!" chris whined, getting fed up with his brothers' refusal to participate.

"chris, we're not gonna sniff something out of a random bottle you ordered from amazon," nick rolled his eyes.

chris looked at the camera in defeat, before noticing you sitting on the couch on your phone. an idea immediately popped into his head.

"hey, y/n, can you come over here and smell this for the vlog?" your head snapped up at the request. you didn't think much of it, tossing your phone on the couch and getting up to join the boys by the counter.

"what is it?" you asked chris, looking at matt and nick, who just shrugged their shoulders.

"you'll see," chris replied secretively, twisting open the bottle and setting the cap down on the counter. he handed the bottle to you. "just take a big ol' whiff."

you hesitantly brought the bottle under your nose, before inhaling deeply. you were immediately hit by an intense burning sensation in your nose. you slammed the bottle down on the counter, doubling over.

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT, CHRIS?!" you yelled out, causing chris and his brothers to break out into a fit of laughter. chris picked up the camera from where he had it propped up, angling it to record your reaction. a lightheaded rush washed over you as tears welled up in your eyes, and your nose felt like it was on fire.

matt walked up behind you and placed his hands on your hips. he was laughing softly at your outburst, but the longer you stayed leaning against the counter, the more he grew concerned.

"are you okay?" matt whispered, rubbing your waist with his thumbs. you sniffed and let out a groan, shaking your head. the lightheadedness you were feeling quickly turned into a throbbing headache. matt's smile faltered a bit, but chris and nick just kept laughing.

"can you get me a tissue?" you croaked out a request to matt. he immediately rushed to grab a box of tissues, setting it down beside you on the counter. you grabbed a tissue and wiped your eyes, before using it to blow your nose. you sighed and stepped back from the counter, rubbing your nose and letting out a sigh.

"OH MY GOD," chris exclaimed when your face was visible again, his eyes widening. you looked at him in worry, before looking down at the tissue in your hand. the tissue was now almost completely dyed red with blood from your nose. you looked back up at chris before feeling liquid rush out of your nose again.

"oh my god!" you shrieked back, quickly grabbing another tissue and bringing it to your nose. nick was at chris's side, clapping a hand over his mouth when he noticed the bloodied tissues.

matt stepped in front of you so he could see what was going on, his jaw dropping at the sight of blood filling the tissue pressed under your nose.

"chris, what did you do?" matt yelled at his brother, not taking his eyes off you. he moved the tissue you were holding to better assess the situation, wincing when he saw blood smeared on your upper lip.

"i didn't know they could make her nose bleed!" chris set the camera down, turning it away.

"what the fuck is in that bottle chris?" nick yelled in confusion and concern.

"smelling salts! i thought people used them to like, get better at sports!" chris tried to defend himself. nick buried his face in his hands.

matt turned away from you to stare at chris in shock. "chris, those are fucking dangerous! they can seriously hurt if you don't use them right!"

"i'm sorry, i didn't know!" chris apologized regrettfully, watching matt as he wet a tissue and tried to wipe the blood from your face.

"it's okay chris," your voice was muffled from the tissue matt was using to dab your nose. chris frowned at you with remorse.

by the time your nose had finally stopped bleeding, matt was still inspecting your face, his eyebrows still knitted with worry.

"matt.." you chuckled softly, hoping to ease some of his tension. "i'm okay now. everything's fine."

matt met your eyes and smiled softly at you, pulling you into a tight hug. chris picked the camera back up and pointed it at you, teasing matt.

"shut the fuck up chris," matt turned around to look at his brother, rolling his eyes. "don't ever try some shit like this again."

chris was unfazed by matt's comments, knowing that matt wasn't actually mad at him. he smiled at him through the camera.

"we have to put this in wednesday's video." chris looked at you for confirmation.

"yeah, of course? i didn't do that shit for nothing," you scoffed, holding back a smile.

"yes y/n!" chris cheered, panning the camera to nick and matt. nick still had his face in his hands, turning away from the camera while matt shook his head.

"you guys are insane," matt mumbled, walking out of the kitchen to his room. you and chris looked at each other and burst out laughing.

...

COMMENTS[extra!!!]:

holy shit chris almost killed y/n 😭

HELP THE SMELLING SALTS?!?!

matt hugging y/n my heart 🥹🥹

chris + y/n = underrated duo

...

author's note: ngl i didn’t actually know what smelling salts were before this…

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader

900 notes · View notes

seospicybin · 10 months

Text

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

PART I

Changbin x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle masterlist

Synopsis: You and Changbin become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (14,5k words)

Author's note: I chose Changbin because it's cuffing season and now we got a reason to get a big boy, I want a big boy oh.... ifykyk

"Oh, this is so beautiful!" You sigh in amazement at the beautiful view of the beach.

You turn your head to the beautiful blond girl you're holding hands with, Sabine and it feels nice to be the first one to enter the villa with her.

"Oh, my Gosh!" She gasps, looking as amazed as you.

There are two small round tables with bottles of chilled wine inside the bucket of ice. Sabine takes one bottle and manages to pop it open without hassle.

You hurriedly take two champagne flutes and hold them as she pours the bubbly wine, she squeals as she almost overfills them.

"Cheers!" You both exclaim with your glasses clinking against each other.

Sabine gasps after taking a long sip and looks at you, "You're really pretty," she says.

Who doesn't like hearing a compliment especially when it comes from a beautiful person?

"You too," you say back with a cheeky smile.

"I see that you pierced your nipple," she says, easily spotting your pierced nipple through your blue bikini.

"Yes. I like them," you show her the piercings you have on both of your ears.

"That's really cool!"

"I did them myself," you proudly tell her.

Sabine gasps at that, "You're wild!"

Well, it's something you often hear people say about you, that you're wild and probably have been that way ever since you knew boys.

YOU: I'm the main character of my life, not a secondary one. I have a lot to give [winks] so bring me men, bring me women, bring me whatever. I hate rules and I do not follow them. I'm a little crazy [laughs] I'm not here to fall in love. I'm here to have fun.

"Wait, I'm picking up an accent here," you notice that Sabine is carrying an accent in the way she speaks.

She swallows her wine before saying, "I'm French."

"Oh, la la!" You playfully say with a nudge on her shoulder.

Sabine has that blue eyes that slowly drowns you in them and she knows how to use them as a form of seduction.

"Stop staring at me like that, you're so hot," you tell her while fanning yourself.

She laughs in satisfaction, "I got the feeling that you're open to anything."

You allow yourself to look at her small, heart-shaped face and her ski slope nose with a nose ring on the left nostril, there's no doubt that you can easily vibe with her.

"I am," you shortly confirm.

She gives you the eyes again and flashes you a flirty smile, "We're going to have so much fun then," she raises her glass for another toast.

If they leave you two alone for another minute, you're sure you would be kissing her already but fortunately, the next guest enters the villa.

"Okay, he's cute," Sabine comments while holding her glass close to her mouth.

First, this guy is so tall and he has that dirty blond hair that he keeps brushed to the back.

"Hello," he greets both of you with a bright smile.

He stands between the two of you to introduce himself, "I'm Oliver."

"I'm Sabine," she introduces herself as they exchange a quick hug.

As he turns to hug you, you hurriedly introduce yourself to him. You hand him a glass next and Sabine fills it for him.

"Where are you from?" Sabine asks.

"Guess where I'm from!" He dares you with a sly smile.

His distinct accent is not hard to guess, "Australia?"

"Yeah, but I've been living in the US," he adds, then takes a sip of his drink.

"My ex is Australian so I know," you mindlessly share.

That gets Oliver's head turned at you, "So, you're into Australians?"

"Sometimes, yeah," you give him a vague answer just to amuse him.

That seems to work wonderfully as he has his eyes on you until he realizes that he has another girl to pay attention to.

"You guys look gorgeous by the way," he says as he takes a step back just to check out the two of you.

"Oh, thank you!" Sabine says with a bashful smile.

"Anyway, what are you looking for in this show?" You ask him out of curiosity.

"I'm here to have a damn good time, honestly," he answers with a grin.

"Yes! Cheers to that!" Sabine says, initiating another toast by lifting her glass in the air.

YOU: They're so hot. I can definitely have a good threesome with them [laughs]

Changbin has no pressure whatsoever to be the last one to enter the villa.

He has so many things to offer more than just his looks. He's a confident man, he knows what he wants, and a great conversationist. A fair warning though, those good qualities are followed by a short fuse. Let's hope no one is having intentions to spark that fuse.

Changbin takes pride in being dominant but he balances it with his loyalty. He may be a casual dater but he never cheated on his partners or led them on when he has no interest in taking the relationship further.

In other words, whoever gets to be with him is lucky.

With the mindset that he owns this show already, Changbin steps into the villa, walking in confident strides that match his smoldering eyes.

If he thinks that he's it, then everyone would believe that he is it and Changbin feels like he owns this place already.

His presence demands attention and all eyes are on him, looking at him with eyes that are either curious or impressed.

"Hello there, big boy!" One of the girls greets him rather enthusiastically.

She introduces herself right away to him with a cheek kiss, "I'm Niamh."

"Changbin," he tells her his name and proceeds to introduce himself to the other guests.

All of the males are taller and more good-looking than him but he has all the girls' attention on him. See? It's not about looks, it's about how he carries himself.

"I'm just going to be honest, you're so my type," the other girl says to him.

"Yeah?" Changbin asks with a cocky smile.

"Yeah," she answers.

He believes her name is Riley and she is a gorgeous brunette with legs for days.

"Come over here then and have a drink with me," he says, leading her to the other table and popping a new bottle of champagne open.

CHANGBIN: I have a strong personality. I need someone to match me, I like them wild just so I can tame them [smiles] A look can say it all [flexes biceps] I put my whole body in the game so there's no reason to look at me and not want me right? [seductively smiles]

You didn't believe in love at first sight but today, when you saw those five guys walking into the villa, you fell in love five times in one day.

The last guy though, ooh, he exudes a strong aura, a charisma that you rarely find in men. Not to mention, he's big and muscular, you feel the urge to climb him like he was a tree.

Not wanting to make it obvious, you turn your body to the girl standing next to you, a Brazilian hottie, Rita.

"My god, he's delicious," you quietly whisper to her with an overwhelmed sigh.

Rita's eyes automatically search for the one you're talking about, "Who is?"

You glance at where he's standing, "Changbin."

"Who is Changbin?" She innocently asks.

You snicker in response and put your arm around her arm, it's convenient because she has a petite yet toned body.

"You're just one clueless baby, aren't you?"

For now, he's occupied by Riley as she keeps filling his glass with more wine but you can see that he's not that interested in her.

Frankly, you have more to offer to him.

YOU: Changbin... The things I want to do to that man. Ugh! [groans]

The first stop on the tour of the villa is the bedroom and everyone is excited at the number of beds in the room. There are ten of them and only six beds in the room, everyone has to pair up or they can choose to sleep alone on the bed.

Changbin has a plan to get himself a bed partner soon but he doesn't want to be hasty about it. He considers himself lucky that he's been getting the eyes from a couple of girls but he's curious about one girl and that's you.

Frankly, you're just as attractive as the others but you have this charm that inexplicably attracts him, making him want to get to know you more.

He sees you sitting at the end of a bed and decides to sit next to you.

"Where are you going to sleep?" He asks.

You lean back on the bed with your hands propped against the mattress, "I don't know," you answer with a cheeky smile.

"Where do you think should I sleep?" You ask him back with your eyes staring deeply into his eyes.

This level of confidence, not only that he likes it, Changbin feels the need to match it.

"On these big arms," he answers while showing off his big, toned arms.

Catching you ogling at them, he uses it to his advantage to let you touch him, "Want to touch it?"

"I wouldn't say no to that," you answer with a sly smile.

Changbin quickly pumps his arm for a while to present you with his glorious biceps, "You can touch them now," he says.

Your hand flies to feel his muscles, "Oh, wow, that's hard," you say in awe.

"Is that hard enough for you?"

You let out a chuckle, "For now, yeah."

"I can pump it again for you," he jokingly offers.

Your hand glides up his arm and rests it on his shoulder, "Or I can pump it for you next time," you make a lewd joke.

He has to admit that you know how to make him hot and bothered and he's not the type that easily gets hot and bothered.

CHANGBIN: I'm going to keep my options open but I got a head start so now I just have to maintain it.

"So girls, if you have to pick one right now without thinking too much, who would you pick?" Niamh asks with a thick Irish accent.

The girls are all gathered in the firepit to talk about the boys and which one of them they fancy. Sabine gets to be the first to reveal her answer, she turns her head to look at the boys who are hanging out in the cabana.

"I don't know... can I just let them pick me?" Sabine says with a giggle.

That's easy for her to say since she's the most popular girl in the retreat, you bet half of the boys are talking about her right now.

"How about you, Rita?"

Rita is busy playing with her hair to pay attention to the conversation going around the space, "What?"

She happens to sit next to you so you put your hand on her knee to keep her engaged, "Is there anyone you fancy?"

"Oh, I like Liam," she says.

Nico is dark and tall and has a gorgeous smile, you can see why Rita is attracted to him. They would make a cute pair with their height difference.

"Oh, yeah, Liam is one hella piece of chocolate," you nod in agreement.

Rita breaks into laughter at your words, "I bet he'll melt in my mouth," she cheekily says.

Niamh looks at the girl sitting at the end of the sofa, "Riley?"

"I want to keep my options open but I got my eyes on Changbin," she answers.

Welp, there goes your competition.

"You're not upset, right?" Riley thinks you wouldn't catch her throwing a glance at you but she's wrong to think that you'd feel threatened.

"Not at all," you calmly answer.

"Well, he's really hot," Riley shamelessly adds with a laugh.

"He is hot. Who disagrees?" You respond with a coy shrug.

YOU: If she feels like it, just do it. I'll do whatever I want but if someone tries to cut me off then... [blows kisses] bye-bye baby.

"Girls!"

Everyone's head turns to see Liam calling for them from across the swimming pool with the rest of the boys.

"Come, join us!" He says, inviting everyone for an impromptu pool party.

Not long after everyone gets into the water, they scatter to get some move on and you decide to wade your way to the side of the pool.

You have time to get your moves later and if someone snatched your guy away, it would be alright with you, you're here to have fun anyway.

Talking about fun, you see that you're about to get some.

It's hard not to notice that Changbin is making his way to you, his hands are wading in the water as he gets closer to you. With a hand pushed against the wall of the pool next to you, that leaves not much space between your bodies.

Changbin doesn't say anything but looks at you with a smile plastered on his face.

"You look shorter from a distance but you're actually quite tall," you tell him, even though he's only a couple of inches taller than you but men like it whenever a girl compliments their physique.

"Well, I'm huge," he simply says and he probably thinks you won't notice that he slowly closing the gap between your bodies.

Your eyes automatically look at the beads of water trickling down his arms and chest, you don't even try to keep it subtle while doing it.

"Yeah, I can see that," you tell him.

Changbin seems to like being ogled on, his mouth curls into a cocky smirk and it looks so damn attractive on him.

You look at him and brush your wet hair to the back, "How about me?"

"Very hot," he answers without a beat.

The way he eagerly answers you tell how much he's been waiting for you to ask him that, and you can't help but chuckle at it.

"A bit aggressive, okay..." you respond with a nod.

He rests another hand against the wall of the pool, caging you in between while closing another inch of space between your bodies.

"Why not?"

"Well, you could say I'm cute," you answer with your head tilted to the side while maintaining eye contact with him.

His hand moves to your side, holding you by your ribcage with his thumb teasing the elastic band of your bikini top.

"You're cute, you're gorgeous, you have good energy," he compliments you as he steals another inch to get closer to you.

"And you're really hot," he finishes with a flirty smile.

It's in the eyes and the words he said, he knows how to combine those two and turn them into a weapon.

You gently push him away but seeing how big he is, of course, it's a useless effort.

"You're bad, you're a smooth talker," you tell him with giggles.

He puts on a triumphant smile, "You can make me good," he says.

You look away to collect some senses into your head, not wanting to fall into his trap just yet. It's still early, you still want to explore your options.

"Not sure about that but do whatever you want," you tell him with a light head shake.

There comes the sly smirk on his face again, "So, I can do whatever I want, huh?" He says.

You keep your hand on his chest to stop him from coming closer, "Do whatever you want in your personal space," you correct your first remark.

There's no winning against him, Changbin takes another step to close the remaining gap between your bodies, "Well, I'm in your personal space now," he says with his face mere inches away from yours.

Your hand on his chest fails to stop him so you may as well use it to feel his firm muscles. You can feel you're slowly cracking under his intense, lustful gaze. You quickly look to the side and have nothing to say back to him.

He pushes his body against you and you can feel the heat his body emits even though you are both soaked in water. He then leans into the side of your face and whispers, "We're in a shared space now so what's going to happen?"

Changbin knows how to play this game, his eye, his words, and now his whole body is pushed against you, they're all moving under one powerful command and that is to conquer you.

He makes you forget about your surroundings and everyone can see what he's doing to you. You dare yourself to look at him and place your hands on his chest.

Still, you have nothing to say to him knowing that he'll use it against you.

"Come on," he says, getting bolder by putting his arm around your waist.

"Just a kiss," he mutters with his hot breath fanning your neck, not hesitating to kiss your neck afterward.

Oh, fuck, he's so confident and aggressive, the next thing you know, he'll be preying on you. You find it hard to resist him and can only lowly laugh at his persistence but what's the fun of giving him what he wants? This cocky boy needs to learn a little patience.

At once, you push him stronger than before, sending him a few steps back, and that way, you can escape him.

Changbin hits the water and it splashes over you, "Come back!"

You're only laughing at him as you're heading to the steps and before getting out of the pool, you look over your shoulder at Changbin, "Later!."

YOU: I can tell that this guy is going to give me a hard time.

Changbin wouldn't say that he failed, it's just that, you're a little tricky to win over.

He gets it that maybe it's just day one and you want to keep your options open, but he doesn't want to waste time.

Changbin dries himself off with a towel and then sits on the empty lounger.

"I see that you made your move, man," Liam says, sitting on the lounger next to him.

Changbin tosses his towel away and sits with his hands clasped in front of him, "Yeah, but you saw everything, she's acting like—"

"Just let it go, you know, go with the flow, let the gears spin," Liam cooly suggests.

If Liam still wants to go with the flow then that's his choice, but Changbin doesn't see why he should wait when he already knows what he wants and he wants you, there's no one else that catches his interest like you.

He can see that you have quite a fiery personality, you're passionate and forthright, and there's nothing fake about you. He senses that you're a little wild but he knows what to do about it.

"Frankly, I would hook up with all of the girls, they're all attractive," Changbin gives his honest opinion.

Liam nods in approval, his dark curly hair bouncing along with him.

"But she's the one that I can connect with more than the other," Changbin continues as he takes his water tumbler to take a sip.

"Yeah, you make a good match," Liam comments.

Changbin swallows his water before continuing to talk, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand after.

"I want to know whether it's mutual or not," Changbin says.

"Yeah, yeah," Liam nodding along to his words.

"If it's not then that's the way it is," Changbin finishes then takes another sip of water.

"Then go for it, man! Take control of the game!" Liam encourages him.

It doesn't get to him that he has indeed lost control of the situation. Liam is right and he knows exactly what to do.

Changbin should get back on his feet and call you to the game.

CHANGBIN: It's time to take control of the game [smirks]

Taking advantage of the empty dressing room, you decide to be the first one to shower and put on a new pair of bikini. After drying your hair, you think of putting on something over your bikini.

You're standing in front of your closet as you try to settle on your choice of clothing. Hearing footsteps coming toward you, you close the door of your closet to see who it is.

Knowing his personality, Changbin wouldn't stop until he gets what he wants so you kind of expect that he'll come for you again, but not this soon.

He leans the side of his body against the closet and looks at you, giving you the eyes without saying anything.

"Stop looking at me like that," you tell him with a chuckle.

He stays quiet but crosses his arms on his chest as his smile grows wider on his face.

You turn to face him and ask, "What do you want?"

"What do I want?" He asks you back because he knows that you know.

"Okay, you don't need to say it," you tell him and you can't escape him again, not this time.

He leans in close and sweetly asks, "Can I do it?"

You subtly roll your eyes at him, "Do you even have to—"

With or without your permission, he's going to kiss you anyway so you lean in first and let him do the rest.

The kiss is intense, like you can feel how much he wants it and at the same time, he wants to show you what he is capable of. He puts his arms around you before resting his back against the closet. With the strength he has, you're sure you can't easily escape him this time.

But boy, he knows how to kiss, he knows how to make you dizzy with the way he uses both his plush lips and slick tongue. He makes you feel like breathing isn't necessary, you just want to keep kissing him until you turn blue.

Driven by the desire, you find yourself pushing him against the wall and opening your mouth for him, a moan or two escapes your mouth in between kisses.

When your lungs feel like catching fire, you let go of the kiss but not without sucking on his lower lip first.

Changbin smirks, liking what you're doing to him and you expect no less than that.

You have him caged between your arms now as you catch your breath, looking at him with filthy thoughts in your head and you bet he thinks the same things too.

"I know what you're doing to me," he says.

Well, great minds think alike.

"Mmh? Yeah?" You let your breath brush his cheek.

You crack a laugh at how he stifles a breath as you put your whole weight against him, pressing onto his crotch.

"Are you laughing? How about I throw you onto that table, mmh?" He taunts you but that only gets you excited.

"Shh..." You shush him and press another kiss on his lips to shut him up.

You feel his hand glides down to your ass and fondles it as he deepens the kiss. It's so quiet in the room that you can only hear the smooching sounds of your kisses, it's good that no one comes into the dressing room and interrupts the two of you.

Changbin lets go of your lips to drag his mouth down your neck and kisses you there. You drop your hands around his shoulders, allowing him to bury his head in the crook of your neck.

With one slobbering kiss on the column of your neck, Changbin finally lets go.

"I'd better go," he says.

You giggle because not only that he doing the opposite of what he said, but he tightens his arms around you.

"I'm getting excited," he continues with a heavy sigh.

The growing bulge inside his swimming trunk is apparent and you can feel it without having to look at it, "Yeah, I feel it," you tell him.

Truthfully, you don't feel sorry for turning him on but you do feel bad for not taking responsibility for it. You take a step back to put a space between your bodies yet Changbin pulls you by the elbow to place a long peck on your lips and smiles when he pulls away.

It seems like you're already trapped in his charms but what's there to lose? You win big here.

YOU: I can't say it was bad because it wasn't. It was so fucking good [groans] I want more!

Excitement and jitters are mixed into one in the dressing room as everyone gets ready for tonight.

The excitement comes from everyone getting so hyped up for the first party in the villa while the jitters come from not knowing what the first quest will be.

"What do you think the first quest is?" Niamh asks while coloring her pale cheeks with pink blush.

You cluelessly shake your head, "I have no idea," you answer.

"As long as I don't have to hunt or skin animals, I'm good," Riley says with a laugh.

As for yourself, you feel good about tonight. You put on your best outfit, put make-up on and a thick coat of red lipstick.

The boys are already waiting as you and the other girls are coming to join them by the pool, everyone takes a drink served on the table along with trays of bite-sized food.

Everyone raises their glasses in the air to propose a toast.

"To a good time!" Liam leads the toast.

"To a good time!" Everyone repeats.

Sabine adds a high-pitched scream at the end of the toast as she clinks her glass with yours, sending the sweety alcoholic drink sloshing out of the glass and trickling down your wrist.

You laugh it off and sip your drink at the same time the music starts playing, kicking off the party with an upbeat song.

"Got you!" Someone says, holding you from the back.

From the size of his arms, you can tell who it is. You immediately turn around to face him and put your glass away, "be careful," you warn about the little incident you had earlier with your drink.

Ignoring your warning, Changbin takes your hand and places an open-mouthed kiss on your wrist, from there, he continues his trail of kisses upward, along your arm and stopping at your shoulder.

You giggle as he places a final kiss on your neck, "Put your drink away and dance with me," you say.

He obeys right away, putting his drink on the table nearby and back to putting his hands on your waist. The two of you dance with your foreheads pressed in the middle and your bodies slowly swaying against the fast-paced music.

It's either the weather or the proximity or the intensity of his stare, you find yourself feeling hot inside and out. You can feel a thin layer of sweat forming on your forehead.

Changbin drops his head into your neck and you feel him inhaling your scent.

"Do you like how I smell?" You playfully ask him.

He smiles against your neck and nods, "Smells heavenly."

You place a kiss on his jaw and get a quick sniff of his perfume. He smells of musk and citrus which is something that quite captures him as a person.

"You smell good too," you tell him with a smile.

The hand resting on the arch of your back moves up to the nape of your neck and you can easily guess what he's going to do next.

The second he starts leaning in, you close your eyes and feel his lips on yours the next second. The tongue that pries open your mouth, the hand taking a fistful of your hair and the other one that grips your waist only proves that his kiss is never just a kiss, it's passionate, deep, and hungry, and it consumes you whole.

Ultimately, he does it to show everyone that you're his.

You have to push him by the chest to stop kissing you as you're running out of breath, "I need to breathe, don't you think?"

Changbin responds with a shameless grin and draws you close again, not letting you get away from him.

You wipe the lipstick mark on his lips with your thumb only for him to kiss you again. You roll your eyes at him in response to that.

"It looks good on me so leave it," he coyly says to you.

You manage to dodge away as he's about to kiss you again and laugh at him while he pouts at you.

Changbin sure has a distinct charm that you rarely find in a guy.

You lean in this time and place a long peck on his plump lips, slowly forgetting about your surroundings and that you're filming a TV show.

The lights suddenly off in the villa and the music abruptly stops, everyone turns their heads to the source of lights remaining in the vicinity.

The staff leads everyone to the beach and not long after, you see a boat coming ashore. As everyone else is cheering, you feel a little nervous about it.

"Do you think it's the first quest?" Niamh asks from next to you.

The quests! It only sinks into you now that the show tells you that the guests have to do a series of quests to win the show.

After registering everything, you gasp in surprise, "Oh, my God!"

Someone is getting off the boat and you assume he's the host of the show, he takes a stand on the small platform propped on the sand.

"Welcome to Love Quest!" He starts.

Everyone is cheering and applauding, then Oliver comes out of nowhere and puts his arm around your shoulder, his cheeks are blushed from drinking.

"What do you think we'll do?" He asks the same question with Rita.

"No idea," you honestly tell him.

The host takes a look at everyone with a cryptic smile on his face, "What do you think the first quest is?"

"I don't know but I'll probably shit my pants," Riley answers with a laugh.

"Well, are you ready for it?" The host turns on his feet to look at the boat.

"Yes!" Everyone answers in unison, followed by more claps and cheers.

"Time to find out your first quest!"

Two people are carrying a box down the boat, from the way they carefully place it next to the host with a loud thud, you can tell how heavy it is.

The host holds the handle of the lid of the box and keeps his cryptic smile on his face.

"This is your first quest..."

YOU: Oh, my God! What is about to happen?

Changbin has no idea why everyone is shocked to see a cone rising out of the box.

It must have something to do with the quest right? But why does everyone have to be this devastated? It's just—

Standing next to him, Sabine asks, "Is this what I think it is?"

"What?" Changbin cluelessly asks her back because he's confused still.

"Oh, my God!" Sabine turns panic with her hand flying to cover her mouth.

He looks around and everyone is having similar reactions as Sabine, except him, he's the only one being utterly confused.

Changbin helps Sabine steadies herself and asks, "What? Tell me! What?"

Sabine turns her head at him to finally answer him, "This is too hot to handle."

What is that? He asks himself, going deeper into the pit of confusion. He's more curious as to why everyone is acting like it's the end of the world.

Then the cone chimes and lights up, startling him because he thinks that it's just an air freshener or a portable speaker, not an AI talking robot.

"As you can see, this is no longer Love Quest," Lana begins.

He looks to the side and notices you with your mouth hanging open.

"This is Too Hot To Handle," he cone announces.

"No!" Sabine groans, grabbing at Changbin's arm.

"That means no fun, ever!" She emphasizes every word with deep sorrow.

"You have been specially selected because all of you are having meaningless flings over genuine relationships."

"That's rude!" Niamh shouts at the cone.

While Oliver grins and agrees right away, "Not wrong at all!"

"Since your arrival, I have been gathering data on your wild behavior but from now on, you must adhere to my retreat rules."

Next to Sabine, Changbin sees Liam put his hands on each side of his head, looking upset. He catches him looking, then says, "Oh man, I didn't get to rub one out to like, you know, say goodbye."

Changbin has no idea what it's got to do with the rules or maybe...

"No kissing."

What? Changbin has kissed you so many times only to be told that he can't do it again?

"No heavy petting."

It starts to dawn on him why everyone reacted the way they were when the cone popped out of the box.

"No sex."

He gets why everyone acts like it's the end of the world because it's far worse than that.

"The rules also apply to self-gratification."

"Shit! Fuck!" Changbin curses out of reflex at the mention of it.

Not only that he can't do physical things to other people, he can't even touch his own body. Does that even make sense?

Sabine hits her head at Changbin's arm, "We're fucked!"

"As part of your social development, I have allocated a prize of $200,000," Lana announces.

"That changes everything," Liam comments

There's money on the line now and that motivates everyone to follow the rule and some people are cheering in excitement.

Well, the money sounds good but to earn it by refraining from any sexual practices for a month? That's kind of impossible for Changbin.

"Surely, we can spend a few grand," Oliver says with his arm around you.

Changbin allows him for now as he seems a little tipsy.

"No, man, no!" Liam quickly shuts him off, putting an end to his rebellious ideas.

"But we got 200k of them," Oliver says with a subtle grin.

Liam lightly shakes his head at him, "Oh, no, you're going to mess this up for all of us," he says, sensing troubles in what Oliver said.

Looking at Sabine, Changbin believes that Oliver is going to have a hard time not touching her. Then he looks at you and realizes that it's going to be hell for him too.

"Welcome to your long, hard, sexless summer!"

CHANGBIN: It's too late to back out right? [Clicks tongue] Guess we're going to go with it [sighs]

"That was a bad party," you groan, taking off your strappy heels as it's hard to walk on the sand in them.

Rita links her arm with you to walk back to the villa together, "How much do you think a kiss costs?"

"Two to three grand, I guess?" You wildly guess.

You're familiar with the show but never stayed long to pay attention to how the show works except that it doesn't allow you to get all kinds of sexual with each other which is going to be difficult for you.

All these times, you do things as you please and that includes kissing or even sex. It's so easy for you to do it with anyone because you keep things casual, with no attachments whatsoever which makes it easier.

Now that the fun is being taken away from you, you have no idea how you're going to do it. It becomes harder later that you're sharing a bed with a man that you are physically attracted to.

Seriously though, what have you done that makes you deserve this?

You're not the only one moaning and groaning in complaint about these sudden rules in the villa, the girls can't stop talking as they remove their make-up to get ready for bed. Your bedtime routine takes double the time as you can't help but join in on the chat with the girls.

"Which one do you think is going to be first to rule break?" Riley asks while brushing her long brown hair as she speaks.

"Not me," Niamh immediately answers.

You glance at Sabine who's giggling in response to Riley's question, "Sabine..."

Sabine puts her hand under her chin, "I think we should kiss each other and be the first to break the rules," she gives her opinion.

"That's not a bad idea," Rita agrees with her.

"No, I think we should make the boys sweat a bit," Riley offers another idea.

"I like that more, yes," you agree with her.

"But Oliver is so hot and I'm sharing the bed with him," Sabine whines at you.

You shrug because you have no answer to that, you're in the same predicament as her.

"Sabine, no, honey, you can do it!" Niamh encourages her

You sense that Niamh is going to be the protector of the prize money and you can't blame her for that, it's a lot of money, and you would love to win it.

However, the possibility for you to win that money is close to zero.

"Something about being told not to do something, you know," Riley says, now braiding her hair in one big pigtail.

"I know, right?" Sabine gasps.

For you, rules are something you are never good at following because they are meant to be broken anyway so why bother following them in the first place?

YOU: Now that I can't have it, I want it more [bites lips]

It's been an eventful day and he's looking forward to ending it.

Changbin sees that you're stepping into the room and heading straight to his bed, this is the part he's been looking forward to, he wants to end this day with you.

It sucks that he has Lana's rules to follow but that doesn't stop him from feeling ecstatic to share the bed with you. Especially with you dressed in a short night dress that barely covers your ass.

Oh, it's going to be a long, agonizing night for him to try not to touch you.

A smile dances on your face as you crawl on the bed and sit next to him with your back facing the room, you innocently rest your hand on his thigh like it wouldn't affect him.

"Is this what you're wearing to bed?" You ask him, pinching the hem of his black boxer.

"Yeah," he simply answers, looking at his sleeping attire of a boxer and a black t-shirt.

Changbin tries to look at your face but the plunging neckline of your night dress keeps distracting him, he can also see your nipples poking through the thin fabric.

However, his hand remains steady on your thigh, fingers lightly rubbing the skin to feel how smooth it is.

It's getting a little noisy in the bedroom with everyone talking all at once, or they're simply as excited to share beds.

You look over your shoulder for a while then put your leg between his as you look back at him, "I think it's going to be so weird to have sex in front of people," you suddenly say out of nowhere.

Changbin is half listening when his eyes are busy listing over your body, "Yeah..."

"Not that we're going to," you quickly add with low giggles.

Your hand glides up to his stomach and slipping it under his t-shirt, it's like you know that's his sensitive area.

"Just saying..." you add with a playful grin.

Now that you hinted at it, he can't help but imagine it, and without waiting for his brain to send the command, his hand moves up to your waist and grips it.

"Because you know, you get going..." you slightly grind on his thigh and pretend to moan to show it to him.

"And you know, like, it's going to be so loud," you finish talking with a sly smile on your face, knowing what you just did to him and what it does to him.

Changbin's imagination is getting vivid and he bites his lower lip to suppress the urge to kiss you. He plays with the lace fabric of the hem of your night dress, "Is that how you do it?"

You tip your head to the side, "What? Fast and loud?"

"If we do it fast, I'm not sure you can keep up with me," he says with a daring smirk, fueling his filthy mind with his own words.

You prop your hands against the mattress to hover above him and then mutter, "I just want you to throw me around."

Then you put your body on top of him which he gladly embraces, he can feel your body slowly molding into his and it feels so intimate to feel each other's bodies like this as he puts his arms around you to keep you close.

You feel soft and small against him, Changbin gets the urge to protect and take care of you but at the same time, he wants to rip your clothes off and make you cry out of pleasure.

And he never met someone that made him feel that way until today.

CHANGBIN: She makes me horny as hell, makes me want to get down and dirty right there with her.

Maybe both of you were mentally drained from the revelation that this is not Love Quest anymore and not much happened before you both went to sleep last night.

Through the curtains, you can see that it's already bright outside but the lights aren't on yet.

Changbin's arm is draped around your waist and you clutch it close to your chest, snuggling yourself close to his body.

"Oh?" You lowly gasp, feeling something poking behind you.

You feel tempted to touch it or at least, take a look at it but you refrain, you decide to tease him by rubbing your ass against his morning wood.

It doesn't take long for him to realize what you've been doing to him, he lays his hand flat on your stomach to stop you but you're relentlessly continuing to do it.

"Stop it," he scolds into your ear but you pick up the playful cadence in his sleepy voice.

Ignoring him, you arch your back more and keep teasing him. This time, Changbin firmly grips at your waist to stop you.

"You're going to get me in trouble," he mutters.

You decide to obey him and pull at his arm, wanting him to hold you close again.

Changbin puts away the hair covering your neck then places a long kiss there, he places another kiss on your shoulder blade before cuddling you again.

"Mmh..." he delightfully hums, "I can get used to this."

And you can't think of a better place to wake up to than next to him, it feels warm and snug in his arms and you don't think you'd get it from anyone else but him.

Then the lights are on and the cone chimes, waking up everyone from their slumber.

"Good morning, everyone!" Lana greets.

It's not ideal to start the day hearing the cone talking but then again, you're here under her authority.

"Morning," you sleepily answer.

You lay on your back but Changbin clings to you, burying his head in your neck with his hand resting across your chest.

"Get ready for some fun in the sun but the only way you're going to get wet is getting into the pool."

Lana is a robot but she surely masters sheer sarcasm and you admire her for that, she's not one to mess with.

"Is there any way we can turn her off?" Oliver asks with a gruff voice.

That shifts everyone's attention to his shared bed with Sabine and you notice the subtle smile on her face, "Looking so smug there," you tease her.

Sabine softly chuckles and brushes her hair to the back, not saying anything but resting her head on Oliver's shoulder.

They seem suspicious that Niamh can't help herself but ask, "What's going on, guys?"

"Nothing," Oliver answers for both of them, sweeping his hair to the side.

What everyone is doing is not your business so you choose to mind yours, hugging Changbin and feeling the muscles on his back.

"What are your plans for today?" You ask.

After a moment, he finally answers, "Working out."

"After that?"

"Shower."

"After that?"

"Breakfast."

"And what time are we going to break the rules?" You playfully ask him but you're curious if you both have the same thoughts about it.

Changbin lifts his head to look at you to see if you are serious or not, then cracks a laugh.

"Tonight?" You ask again.

Not getting an answer, you slip your hand into his soft curls and ask again, "Tonight at 8, mmh?"

He looks at you again and you both burst into laughter at the same time. He overlaps your body with his and nuzzles his nose into your neck.

"What do you think we should do, mmh?" You tease him more with a gentle ruffle on his hair, "Kiss? Handy? Sex? Anal?"

Changbin breaks into laughter again and he has the kind of laugh that is infectious, making anyone who hears it laugh along with him.

Jokes aside, you get the feeling that Changbin hesitates to break the rules, you can't tell if is it because of you or if he has his reasons.

Well, there's always a way to find out.

YOU: If he wants to come up to me, he can get some talk, he can get some actions [smirks] I'm up for anything.

Changbin is feeling refreshed after taking a shower.

He worked out a little late into the afternoon because of the big breakfast he had this morning, he felt the need to lose the extra weight he gained and turned them into muscles.

He almost bumps into Liam as he enters the dressing room, not knowing that there are people in there.

"What's up, man?" Nico asks who happens to be there as well, playing with the girls' make-up brushes.

"Not much," Changbin shortly replies as he opens his closet.

Not long after, Oliver comes into the room, grinning ear to ear. He just stands in front of everyone but not saying anything.

Changbin smells trouble from him, "Looking smug. Where have you been?"

"Just had some alone time," he talks almost inaudibly.

"With Sabine?" Nico asks for confirmation.

Oliver starts pacing around the room still slyly smiling, it's like he waits for someone to catch up on it.

"Oh, don't tell me you kissed!" Liam says with a defeated sigh.

Changbin can tell the answer right away from the smile plastered on his face, "It's true," he confirms for anyone.

Liam calls Changbin and even though he's only dressed with a towel around his waist, he helps Liam corner Oliver and forces him to confess.

"Why are you guys so big?" Oliver asks both of them, looking slightly intimidated by their sizes.

"What did you do?" Liam asks him again.

Oliver holds his hands up and nods, "Yeah, we had a little kiss."

"Oh, no, it's only day two, bro!" Nico says from behind Changbin.

With his hands up, Oliver starts to explain, "We had a moment, okay?"

Changbin walks back to his closet to start putting clothes on and sees Liam is still towering over Oliver, "Is that the only thing you did?"

"Yeah," Oliver answers.

Liam then looks around the room to see every there, the boys are all here except for Shane.

"Now if any of us do any rule breaks, I'd appreciate it if you just... fess up," he says to everyone.

Oliver nods in agreement with a winning grin for successfully becoming the first one to break the rules in the retreat.

It's getting interesting now that the first rule break has occurred and it's only about time other people start doing it too.

Changbin wonders if he should do something about his appointment at 8 tonight.

CHANGBIN: Is it going to be my turn? [Smirks] I might do something tonight. We'll see.

It's only about time that someone broke the rules and you're right to put your money on Sabine.

However, you didn't expect that it was going to happen this soon, Sabine and Oliver did it in less than twenty-four hours after Lana's sex ban.

"You think everyone is mad at me?" Sabine nervously asks you.

Everyone shouldn't act like they're going to be perfect going forward, the retreat has only just begun so there's no guarantee that there'll be saints left at the end of the retreat.

"You know I was just waiting for someone to do it," you honestly tell her.

Sabine pauses applying her lip liner and cracks a laugh, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, me and my man have a plan now," you jokingly say.

"What are your plans?"

"We're going to give each other head," you joke.

The actual plan is not very far from it, you're going to look so good tonight that Changbin can't resist you. You check yourself in the full-length mirror in the dressing room and are satisfied with what you see.

"I look so hot," you praise yourself, turning around to see the back view.

Rita comes and puts her arm around your waist, posing together in front of the mirror with you.

"We look hot!"

The night is warm with the scent of the sea clinging in the air. You grab a drink before stepping out of the villa to prepare you for tonight.

"Looking gorgeous," Shane compliments as you meet him by the pool.

You take a moment to look and search for something you can compliment on him "I like the shirt," you say with a quick pull at the collar of his shirt.

"We're kind of matching, you see?"

You're wearing a white top with a black leather skirt while he wears blue jeans with a striped blue and white shirt, the similarities are almost nonexistent but hey, he's just trying to shoot his shot.

"Yeah, we kind of do," you say to him.

Let's see if Shane got game so you stop by the terrace to give him the chance to play.

"Have you ever dated an English guy?" He asks out of the blue.

A bit too strong for an opener but okay, "Nah," you answer.

He takes a step closer, then asks, "Never?"

You look him in the eyes to see if he would flinch, "Yeah."

He coyly sips his drink to stall and continues talking after, "Would you like to?"

A solid 7 out of 10, could be better. You laugh it off and let him die to know the answer.

"You know everyone is attracted to you, right?"

"No, not everyone, I believe," you play humble like how good girls play.

Shane takes another step closer and leans the side of his body against the pillar, "This is good. We should talk more," he says with a flirty smile.

"Well, I'm open to getting to know everyone," you tell him, making sure that you mean it generally, not specifically with him.

Shane runs his hand through his hair, sending it disheveled, even so, it makes him look attractive.

"I think you went in with Changbin so quick," Shane comments.

You nod and admit that it's true, "Yeah."

He then slyly smiles at you, "So, you know—"

Before you can finish listening to Shane talking, someone has his arms around you and without warning, carrying you with him.

Thankfully, you manage to not spill the drink you're holding once Changbin puts you down. He pats the small space left on the small sofa facing the sea view.

You sit with your legs hanging between his and his arm around you, this way you can put your full focus on him. You like seeing the glints in his brown eyes and your eyes flick to his small mouth with its pair of plush lips, looking so inviting as he licks them after taking a sip of your drink.

"What were you talking about?"

Changbin tries to sound cool about this but you sense a hint of jealousy in his words.

"Talking about you, actually," you honestly tell him.

"Yeah?"

He's wearing this tight white top that showcases his sculpted muscles and makes you unconsciously roam your hand on his clothed body.

You lose track of the conversation and innocently mutter, "You're so big..."

Changbin smiles at your words, looking thoroughly happy to hear them, and wants to hear more of it.

"What about it?"

You use your fingers to play with the opening of his top, teasing the skin there, "I like that you're big," you shamelessly admit.

It's impressive how he doesn't flinch as you stare him dead in the eyes. He remains calm with his hand playing with the thin strap of your top.

"Mmh?"

You lean in close and lower your voice as you say, "Makes me wonder if you're big somewhere else too."

Men like it when you're being straightforward like that and it seems to work on Changbin too.

YOU: He is so hot. It's going to be really hard to keep my hands to myself.

Everyone else can look as much as they want but they can only dream of getting it on with you.

Changbin feels like he won big to have you sitting close to him, looking damn attractive in your leather skirt and you're deeply staring into his eyes and your legs are slowly rubbing his inner thigh.

Oh, he knows what you're doing and he sure as hell knows that he's in trouble. The sexual chemistry is there and it's electrifying, awakening every cell in his body.

He looks away for a moment to take a grip on the situation and tries to restart a conversation. Then he looks at your face and how beautiful you are, your nose, your eyes... which reminds him to compliment them.

"You have beautiful eyes," he says.

You snort and put away your drink, "Your eyes are nowhere looking at my eyes," you point out.

That's right, he was looking at your lips when he said it, how they tantalize him.

You put your hand around his neck and gently massage the back of his head, "What are you thinking, mmh?"

There's no way of denying it so Changbin resorts to playing pensive, "Why don't you take a guess?

You're playing with the zipper on the front of his chest, "Uhm... food?" You wildly guess.

He laughs then nods, "That's a pretty good guess."

"No, wait," you take back your answer and take another guess, "it was tits."

You sure know how to amuse him and other than that, make him feel aroused with every little thing you do, including now, when you fix your hair from being blown by the wind.

Changbin has been thinking about it and knowing that someone has broken the rules making it easier for him to decide.

It's his turn to break the rules now but before that, he looks around, making sure the coast is clear, he sees that everyone else is gathered in the firepit.

Changbin looks back at you, then his hand reaches for your chin to bring your head close to his so he can kiss you. He likes how eager you are to receive his kiss and return it in such eagerness.

He holds you by the jaw, his thumb pulling at your lower lip to make you open your mouth for him so he can kiss you deeper, harder.

He wants to keep going and get drunk in your sweet, sweet kiss. He's tugging your lower lip between his teeth before pulling away.

Once he breaks the kiss, he looks at you at your parted mouth and your lips wet from the kisses, you're smiling when you open your eyes.

All of sudden, you throw your arms around him and mutter, "That was a good kiss."

He plants a kiss on your shoulder and another one on your neck, "I know."

You sit back on the sofa to get your drink and secretly look at where everyone is gathering, "Did they notice?" You ask him.

He throws his head back to look behind him and shakes his head, "I don't think so."

Breaking the rules is not as bad as he thought it would be, it was easy and strangely fun, he's sure it's coming from the rush of doing it without getting caught by anyone.

Changbin can only hope he doesn't get addicted to the rush.

CHANGBIN: So it happens, my first rule break. I knew it was wrong but I still wanted to do it so... [shrugs]

Despite the strong wind blowing your way, it doesn't help keeping you away from sweating.

You use the back of your hand to dab at the thin layer of sweat forming on your forehead but you feel like your make-up is fading away with the night.

Putting your empty glass away, you break away from Changbin's cuddle.

"Where are you going?" He asks.

You get up from the sofa and fix your skirt, "I'm going to fix my make-up quick," you answer.

He takes your hand, not letting you go, "You can do it later."

You smile at him, "I'll be quick," you say.

On the way to the dressing room, Rita joined you and it just happens that she seems to have the urge to tell you something.

"Now that Riley has given up on your man, she's going for Liam," Rita informs.

You sit on your chair and unzip your make-up pouch, "Really?"

Rita leans against the vanity table and crosses her arms in front of her, "So I was there with there with Liam then Riley joined in and she won't stop talking," she grumbles.

Riley does seem like the talkative type and you can imagine her butting in between Rita and Liam, talking non-stop.

"She keeps going on and on..." Rita complaints.

You feel bad for Rita but can't help but laugh. You gently powder your nose and make sure its

"Is Liam the only one or is there anyone else you fancy?" You ask out of curiosity, taking out a tube of lip gloss out of your pouch next.

Rita gets quiet and rolls her eyes as she thinks of an answer, "I was the first to call dibs on Liam," she innocently says.

You snicker because she makes it sound like it's a child's play, "What about Nico?"

"Nico? Hmm..." Rita has an adorable habit of pinching her cheek when she thinks.

You shift on your chair to look at her, "But you know, if you want to see how things go with Liam, then go for it," you suggest.

"I'm going to do that," she says while bobbing her head in agreement.

"Then get your cute butt there," You encourage her because you don't want her to overthink things when she should just do what she wants.

She squeals in response and takes a hairbrush from her table to fix her hair, "I believe Riley is still talking when I get there," she says with a dramatic eye roll.

As she turns around to leave, you land a gentle slap on her butt, "Go get your man!"

Now that Rita left the room, you can put on a fresh coat of lip gloss on your lips and take a quick look in the mirror only to find Changbin is checking you out in the doorway.

"You told me you'd be quick," he whines.

You laugh at how he's fussing like a toddler, "I was about to walk out—"

You get cut off as he comes crashing his body against yours, hugging you so tight with his hands feeling your clothed body.

It's obvious that he's horny. You hold him back and let him bury his head in your neck, "We're going back out there or stay here?"

Changbin doesn't say anything but looks at you, his eyes are looking at your lips and filled with so much want. You kind of have guessed that he would be coming back for more because honestly, one kiss is never enough.

"You can throw me onto the table if you want," you jokingly say with a flirty smile on.

With smoldering eyes and a smirk on his face, he lifts you by the waist to sit you on the table, that way he can be at the same eye level with you.

You loop your hands around his neck and pull him close, "And now we can kiss," you whisper with your face only inches away from him.

And just like that, he caves in and kisses you. This time his kiss has intensity to it and for a moment, you feel like he's devouring you whole which is turning you on.

Changbin slides his hand down your leg and lifts it, wrapping it around his waist to close the gap between your bodies.

His other hand is angling your head slightly to the side just so he can kiss deeper, skillfully using his tongue to make you feel the slightest bit lightheaded.

A moan slips out of your mouth as he squeezes the back of your thigh. You feel faint not only because it's one of the sensitive parts of your body but also because of how close his hand is to where you want him the most.

Then the sound of heels clicking against the floor shatters the tension in the room and the two of you abruptly stop kissing.

Your head turns in the direction of the doorway and see Sabine grinning at both of you.

"I caught you rulebreaking!" She says in a sing-song voice.

"Shit!" Changbin quietly mutters as he looks away from her.

Sabine walks to her closet, "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone!" She says while switching the shoes she's wearing with sandals.

After she leaves the room, Changbin pulls you into a hug and nuzzles his head in your neck.

You jokingly pull his head close, "Okay, now, come back."

He breaks into laughter and kisses you on the cheek to compensate for not being able to give you what you want.

It's already hard to get him to rulebreak and it would take a long time for him to fall into the temptations again.

YOU: [Snickers] I don't know what's wrong with us. I don't know why we're doing it again [laughs]

Changbin jumps onto his bed, feeling so tired but inside, he's feeling euphoric.

"What's going on, big boy?" Nico asks from the next bed.

Changbin pretends to look exhausted and stretches his arms out, "I didn't do much tonight," he lies.

He knows he can't be the only one breaking the rules tonight but it's safe for him to keep a calm expression to avoid suspicion.

When he looks at the boys, he notices the smugness on their faces and they probably can see it on him too. For now, he saves the worries about the money for tomorrow.

Changbin stops thinking altogether when you climb onto the bed, wearing a white tank top and tight shorts. If only he was alone with you... oh, he's scared to even try to imagine it.

You sit cross-legged on the bed facing him, looking so beautiful even with a bare face, "Isn't it hot to sleep with a t-shirt on?"

"You can just tell me if you want me to sleep naked," he says with a mischievous smile.

"You know, I always sleep naked," you share then sips water from your tumbler.

He puts his hand on your knee "Then why aren't you?"

You put on a daring glare at him, "Do you want me to? Cause I would," you say.

If there's anything he learned from being around for these past two days is that he shouldn't challenge you because, in the end, he'll end up losing to you.

When the lights are out, he puts his arm out so you can rest your head on it but instead of that, you overlap his body with yours.

"I'm not sleepy yet," you whisper into his ear.

"Anything you want to do?" He asks and regrets it the second after he says it. He shouldn't give you ideas or worse is letting himself open to your ideas.

"A lot," you answer with a hot kiss on his neck.

Changbin feels threatened as you start placing kisses around his face, his heart skips when you get too close to his lips but he sulks when you don't do it.

You have your hand slipped under his t-shirt, splaying it on his stomach and feeling his skin there. You lean in close, rubbing your nose against his and teasing his lips with the warm breath you let out of your parted mouth.

"Want to rule break again?" You ask with your thumb swiping his lower lip.

Oh, Changbin is being put in a predicament once again. You best believe that he wants to do and will do whatever it is you want because that's what he wants too.

However, he promised himself that he wouldn't do another rule break for the rest of the night.

He hates to say no to you so he tries to lay it as gently as he can so he softly caresses your head, then takes the hand holding his face to kiss the inside of your hand.

"That's enough of a rule break for today," he murmurs with an apologetic smile.

Even in the dark, he can see you softly smile at him and nod, "Okay."

It's not about the compliance, you can be a little wayward to him but Changbin likes that you know when to hold back. Yes, he takes pride in being dominant but that doesn't mean he can force you to do what he says, you are your own person after all.

You sweetly kiss him on the cheek and mutter, "Goodnight, Changbin."

He plants a kiss on your jaw in return and mutters back, "Goodnight, angel."

For someone who has known him for a couple of days, you understand him well and that says something.

CHANGBIN: A kiss with her is always too good but it's bad because it's making me hornier [chuckles]

The day starts with Lana's morning greeting.

For a second, you thought Lana was about to announce the rule breaks right after everyone woke up and that would be so cruel of her but you're glad she didn't.

Changbin nuzzles his nose against your neck before placing a soft kiss on your shoulder. You open your eyes and see him smiling at you.

"How was your sleep?" You croak, putting your hand under his t-shirt to feel the skin on his back.

He kisses you on the arm and softly sighs, "I got bit by mosquitoes last night."

"That was me. Sorry," you joke.

That amuses him so much, that he laughs with his head buried in your neck and playfully biting at your shoulder.

When he stops, you look at him and say, "I'm not sorry actually."

With freshly showered hair, you're doing your make-up with Rita while Niamh is also dressing the other part of the room. You look at Rita whose hair is flying around her head as she's drying it.

"So, how did it go?"

Rita turns off her hairdryer, "What?"

"With Liam last night?"

"I don't know. He's been very vague about it," Rita answers, sounding as confused as her answer.

You put down your eyebrow pencil and look at her, "He probably wants to keep his options open for—"

The melodic chime coming from the cone in the corner of the room interrupted you from talking and your heart starts to sink, knowing that you committed a couple of rule breaks yesterday.

"Hello, girls!" Lana greets.

Niamh pops her head from behind the room where everyone is using to change their clothes.

"Hey, Lana..." you answer with sheer enthusiasm.

"Please gather everyone in the cabana," she orders.

You exchange a horrified look with Rita and grimace at the horror looming over you the second you hear Lana's voice.

"Sure, babe," Rita is replying to her this time.

You know exactly what's going to happen in the cabana and it's none other than the time to get publicly shamed by a talking cone.

There's only one seat left on the small wooden sofa at one side of the room and you sit there, having no one there to help you calm down.

"Okay, guys, who kissed who?" Nico asks everyone.

Niamh couldn't be faster responding to it, "I didn't kiss anyone," she says.

"Me too," Rita says.

As if it would help take everyone's suspicion off you, you're avoiding their eyes and trying to act calm. You are calm until Sabine places her hand on your knee.

"Babe? Did you kiss?"

That's so sly of her to ask you that when she walked in on you and Changbin kissing in the dressing room. You scrunch your nose and decide to lie, "Nah, I didn't."

Sabine slyly smiles at your answer and lets it go as the cone chimes in the middle of the table.

YOU: I know for sure that Changbin and I kissed twice but I'm not saying a word. I'm hoping Lana didn't see [snorts]

"Hello, everyone!"

Changbin tries to remain calm but he can't quite control his body, his heart is racing and his palms are starting to sweat. He can only hope that he's putting on a good poker face.

"What's happening, Lana?" Shane asks from the other end of the sofa.

"You were brought here to form deeper emotional connections and were given rules to adhere to."

Lana is an artificial intelligence but Changbin can hear the displease in her voice and she sounds upset.

"This is tense," Nico says with a heavy sigh.

"Yeah..." Oliver says.

"Despite this, your flagrant disregard for the rules has resulted in a deduction of..."

Changbin knows he takes part in that deduction and he can feel the guilt starting to seep into his mind.

"$15,000."

Everyone collectively gasps at the announcement of how much money has been lost from the prize fund and it's only the third day now.

But this also means that he's not the only one screwed up last night.

"That's the most expensive 25 hours I've ever lived," Oliver says as if he didn't spend some of that money.

"You guys are blowing it," Niamh says with a disappointed look on her face, genuinely pissed at losing money.

"In total, there were five rule breaks," Lana informs.

"Five?" Nico says with a shocked face.

"Anyone want to admit to anything?" Rita says.

Changbin glances at you and he sees that you're also looking at him, exchanging unspoken words through the eyes.

Staying silent is not an option for him, he knows better that he has to own up to his mistakes.

"Changbin and I kissed last night," you get ahead of him.

He feels less nervous to talk now that those words are out, "Yeah, we kissed."

"We had a moment and it was perfect," you add, explaining the things that led to the kiss.

"Just one kiss?" Niamh asks.

It's like something caught in your throat and you abruptly stop talking, it's time for Changbin to take over.

"No, we uh... we kissed again in the dressing room," Changbin admits.

He's expecting shouting or yelling coming at him but they're quiet, he can only hear a few deep sighs.

"Well, there's three more we need to account for," Rita says, leaning back on the sofa and crossing her arms together.

"Sabine?" You call her name loud enough for everyone to hear even though she's sitting next to you.

"What?" Sabine plays dumb.

"We knew about your kiss at the beach," Rita says to her.

Niamh scoots forward on her seat and looks at Sabine, "Is that it?"

Sabine looks at Oliver and everyone knows right away they had more than one kiss.

"Yeah, okay, we kissed twice," Oliver finally confesses with an unapologetic grin on his face.

Oliver's confession is also greeted by more sighs and Changbin feels a lot better now that he's not the only one being scrutinized at the moment.

"One more to go now," Nico mutters, scanning everyone's faces to spot the guilty ones.

"Honesty is the best policy, you guys!" Niamh warns.

Everyone wouldn't let it go until the last culprit comes forward and Changbin just wants to get this over with.

A moment passed in silence until Riley pointed at someone, "I kissed Liam."

"Look at you sitting there all quiet," Changbin mutters at Liam who happens to sit two seats away from him.

Ironic that he was the one who warned everyone to speak out immediately when they messed up yet he's the last one to do it.

"I felt a little something for Riley so I don't regret it," Liam explains.

He notices that you're exchanging looks with Rita as she seems to be upset upon hearing what Liam uttered to everyone.

"The prize fund now stands at $185,000," Lana updates before signing off.

Changbin does the math in his head and is slightly shocked to find out how much he spent but at that moment, last night, the kisses felt worth more than that.

However, everything changes now after hearing how much it costs.

CHANGBIN: $15,000... that's a lot. I'm feeling guilty now.

When Changbin hears that there's going to be a workshop, he hopes it's something that will help him control his urges.

The moment he gets told that he has to pair up with you, he doubts that it would help him much.

"Hello, I'm Billy," The instructor introduces himself, "I'm a sex expert."

"Whoo!" Oliver excitedly reacts.

"How are you all doing?" Billy asks.

"Good!" Everyone answers in unison, sitting on their respective mats for the workshop.

"Today's workshop is about ways you can connect with somebody without sex," Billy announces the lesson for the workshop.

"Breath is a huge thing so when you feel sexual tension, step away and go do your breathing, it'll help you profoundly."

Changbin feels skeptical at first but he knows now that it's possible to keep his impulses in control.

Billy then turns over a picture showing a cuddling position and everyone should do it with their partner. You crawl over to him and sit cross-legged on the space between his legs.

It takes him a moment to study the picture, he puts his arms around you and you intertwine them together in front of you.

"Hand over your heart," Billy reminds him.

He places his clasped hand on your heart and he accidentally brushes your breast in the process.

You lowly giggle in response and look over your shoulder at him, "Over my heart, not my tits."

He presses his mouth close to your ear, "It happens that your tit is close to your heart," he playfully replies.

"Breathe..." Billy instructed as he's he's pacing back and forth observing everyone, "Connect with them on a deeper level."

Changbin does what he said and closes his eyes, breathing in and out, eventually syncing your breathing together. It feels nice, he feels relaxed.

Billy walks up to Sabine and Oliver, "How do you feel in that position?"

"Damn good," Oliver shamelessly answers, making Sabine laughs in embarrassment.

Billy walks back to the front and flips a new picture on the easel, "It's going to get a little bit intimate..."

He then reveals the next position for everyone to see, he's grinning as he says, "I think you guys can handle it."

Changbin applies the lesson right away, inhaling air and exhaling it as he sits on the mat.

Okay, it's getting hard to try not to think about sex when you're sitting on his lap and your legs wrapped around his waist.

"Don't I look good on top of you?" You ask with a sly smile on your face.

He takes a deep breath and puts his hands on each side of your waist, "Yeah," he answers, can't stop his brain from imagining it.

It doesn't get any easier with the way you're looking deep into his eyes and Changbin reckons he should look away.

He pulls you close and rests his head against your chest, listening to your steady heartbeat helping him to calm down.

"How are you guys doing?" Billy asks him.

"We're doing good," you answer for both of you.

After he leaves, you look back at him and put your hands around his neck, "Good, right?"

Changbin bets that you know how good it is for him as you sit right on his crotch. The sexual tension is getting unbearable and breathing doesn't help him as much as it did before.

Thankfully, Billy ends the workshop before it gets dangerous.

"Thank you, all of you beautiful people and I appreciate you for being present with me," he concludes.

Everyone is giving him a round of applause as a token of gratitude for his lesson.

CHANGBIN: It's clear that we have a strong sexual chemistry but I also sense that there's something genuine there.

It's unclear whether Changbin is up to doing something naughty tonight.

Nevertheless, you're putting on a tight dress and a luscious coat of lipstick, you know he can't resist you when you look this good.

Changbin is talking to Nico when you come and put his arm around you, wanting to get his attention. Successfully having him for yourself, you corner him and take him to sit together on the lounger.

"You look good tonight," you compliment, feeling his pecs through his black shirt.

He reacts with a mix of shy and cocky smiles, you don't know how he does that but it looks good on him.

You bring your mouth close to his ear and murmur, "You look so delicious."

Changbin is oddly quiet tonight and you guess you just need to warm him up, showering him with compliments and talking about random things.

"I only noticed it now that you have a dimple," you say.

Changbin smiles again for you to showcase it and you use your finger to poke the dimple on his cheek.

"Your cheek is squishy too," you playfully poking at it while giggling.

"I think my right cheek is more squishy," he disagrees with you, poking his other cheek with his index finger.

He looks so cute doing it and out of nowhere, you feel like biting at his cheek and doing it.

"Why did you do that?"

"Nom nom nom nom," you tease him instead of answering.

Changbin pulls you close and gently bites at your arm to get back at you, sending you laughing uncontrollably.

Now that he's warming up and relaxed, it's time to find out if he plans to do something about the night. You rest your hand on his chest, fiddling with the button of his shirt as you talk.

"What are we going to do tonight, mmh?"

He only smiles at you with his hand caressing your back.

You press your head close to his and lower your voice as you say, "How about you finger me in secret?"

He bursts into laughter and pulls you closer, holding you with his arms around you, but it feels more like he's trying to restrain you.

"We're going to be good tonight," he tells you.

The message is well-received.

You fully understand if he doesn't want to rulebreak tonight and you're alright with it, you don't want to pressure him to do something he doesn't want.

You press a kiss on his cheek and then rest your head on his chest, "Yeah, sure, we can be good."

Also, perhaps he needs a little breather too.

YOU: He doesn't want to rulebreak tonight but who knows about tomorrow? [Raises eyebrow]

Just like Billy said, Changbin get away and do his breathing as the sexual tension is only rising when he's with you.

Most of everyone is gathering in the cabana so he goes there, trying to get his mind distracted by talking to other people than you.

Nico is sipping his drink and silently watching Sabine and Oliver canoodling by the firepit.

"I don't know if Sabine were like flirty with anybody but I kind of want to make Ollie cry," he says to him.

Changbin feels like getting another drink but he stays seated for the drama.

"Do it, man!" He encourages him.

The next thing he knows, the night is getting late and it's time to turn in for the night.

He manages to not rule break today as he planned but it doesn't feel like an achievement at all, if anything, he feels like shit for saying no to kissing you. Now, he has the image of your eyes dimmed when he told you he doesn't want to rulebreak tonight replaying in the back of his head.

It's not dramatic of him to feel ecstatic to see you get on the bed, he barely saw you after you both cuddled on the lounger earlier.

"Where have you been, baby?" He asks you.

You dive right into his arms and rest your head on his chest, "Talking with Rita," you mumble your answer.

He notices that you sound exhausted, "Tired?"

You turn your head to look at him and nod.

The moment the lights turn off, you get off of him to sleep on your side of the bed.

"Goodnight, fam!" Liam says to everyone in the dark.

"Night," a few replying to him.

Changbin doesn't want to assume things but he's scared that the reason why you feel a little distant is because he said no to rulebreak with you.

Then you're shifting on the bed and he sees you trying to take your top off under the duvet, you notice him watching.

"It's hot," you mutter at him, putting your top on the bedside table before laying on your side with your back facing him.

And he can see what you're trying to do to him.

Changbin scoots closer until his chest meets your back, he then traces the curve of your body with his hand, only using his fingertips to touch you.

He feels nothing but miles and miles of silky soft skin.

"Are you ticklish?" He asks, dropping his voice low and sultry.

"No," you answer.

That only encourages him to touch you more, exploring your body while trying to avoid it becoming something sexual. He presses his mouth on the back of your shoulder and softly inhales your scent while his hand caresses your abdomen with his knuckle.

With the way your body slightly shaking, he knows you're holding in your laughter.

"Tickles, mmh?"

"Not really."

Changbin lowers his hand down your waist and keeps going until his hand lands on the softness of the back of your thigh, caressing it with his knuckle.

"How about now?"

You shake your head.

He has no other option but to squeeze the flesh and you jolt on the bed. You take his hand out of the duvet and turn your head to scold him.

Before you can do that, he captures your lips in his. He knows he catches you off guard but you manage to return his kiss.

Changbin pulls away to have you pinned under him before leaning in and kissing you again. You moan as he puts his whole weight on you, sending your breasts squashed between your chests.

He's aware that everyone else in the room can see it but something about doing it in secret makes it inexplicably kinky.

CHANGBIN: If I'm being honest... I want to eat her all up [smirks]

Another day means another session of listening to a talking cone.

Changbin is prepared to face everyone when he comes clean about what he's done with you last night. It's the only rule break he did yesterday and he knows it's not progress but he feels good knowing that he showed a little more restraint than the last time.

Other than that, he's sitting next to you now so he feels reassured, knowing that you have his back.

The cone chimes at the same time he takes your hand and holds it.

"Hello, everyone!"

Everyone gets tensed as soon as Lana talks even though she hasn't said anything but her usual greeting.

"What's up, babes?" Rita replies to her, sounding chipper than usual.

"The rules of my retreat have been broken," She announces.

Here it goes, Changbin says in his head. He takes a deep breath and squeezes at your hand.

"Is there anybody who wants to come clean?"

Changbin clears his throat before speaking, "I want everyone to know that it was me who started it," he begins, taking full responsibility for what he's done.

"It was me, I kissed her last night."

His confession is yet again getting answered by low groans and sighs, he understands that he let them down but... oh, well.

"The kiss has cost the group $3,000."

There goes another $3,000 down the drain and Changbin admits he did wrong for making the same mistake.

"Anyone else wants to fess up?" Niamh asks.

The grin on Oliver's face is unmissable and that means he did something, most likely a bad thing.

"Did you two kiss again?" Liam asks him, pressuring them to talk with laser in his eyes.

Oliver rubs his chin while Sabine can only look at him, waiting for him to speak for both of them. He deeply sighs, then nods, "Yeah, we did."

"Just once?"

Oliver nods again, "Just once, I swear."

Lana confirms by announcing another $3,000 has been deducted from the prize fund.

Changbin feels a lot lighter now after telling the truth and accepting the truth that a chunk of money is gone because of him but it's too early for him to let out a sigh of relief yet.

"They were not the only ones to break the rules," Lana informs.

"My God?" Sabine scoffs.

Changbin is on the hunt for the culprit, he scans for any guilty faces sitting on the sofa and not realizing that you've been fidgeting next to him.

He turns his head at you and wonders if...

You uneasily look at him, then say, "It was me."

CHANGBIN: What the fuck is going on?

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#stray kids smut #skz smut #changbin smut #seo changbin smut #changbin x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz fics #skz fanfics #kpop smut #kpop fics #kpop fanfics #seospicy smut #too hot to handle series

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ddejavvu · 1 year

Note

Best friend!James with very little boundaries is my new fav 🥴 and when you try to explain boundaries most best friends have to him he just tilts his head like a puppy cause he doesn’t understand 🥰🥰

this post is 18+, minors dni.

It's not that you don't want James to see your boobs. It's just that maybe, you'd rather him have seen them chubbed up in a tight lacy bra, not hanging loose and soaped up in the shower. You'd had no time to cover yourself when the shower door slides open, James's head popping curls-first into the steamy space.

"Love," He calls, and you flinch violently, "Have you seen my red water bottle?"

"Wh- James!" You shriek, hands frantically trying to cover both your tits and your cunt, "Get out!"

In your haste to make yourself modest a few droplets of water fling off of your skin, dotting over James's face and narrowly avoiding his eye.

'Ah-" He grimaces, rubbing at his now-wet face with his hands, "What's the matter with you? I just want to know where my water bottle is!"

"I'm in the shower," You gush, cheeks hotter than the water at his presence while you're so vulnerable, "James, who barges in on someone in the shower?"

"Someone who's looking for his water," James groans, blinking blearily at you, "Relax, darling, 's not a big deal. Everyone's got a body."

You're aware of that. James has a habit of walking around with his completely exposed, and you have a particularly hard time pretending it's not affecting you. You see his dick nearly as much as you see his face, and it just so happened to be on your mind beneath the steamy water just before James decided he was joining in on your shower.

"Well yeah," You huff, thighs clenched, "-but- but these are my tits! You can't see my tits!"

"You've seen my tits," James squints incredulously at you, "And I'm not even lookin' at 'em! My eyes are on your eyes!"

"Your eyes need to be out of the bathroom," You groan, "James, normal roommates do not see each other naked."

"Yeah, but we're not normal roommates, are we?" James furrows his brows, "We're best friends. Listen, if it really bothers you, love, I'll-" He flounders, "-Uh, cover my eyes." He does so, throwing a lazy hand over his face. "But I'm still looking for my water bottle."

"Best friends don't- ugh," You shake your head, still covering your body despite the fact that James has shielded his eyes by now, "Never mind. Your water is," You blink rapidly, trying to clear your brain from the fog that's settled over it now that James, James Potter, your best friend has seen your tits, "It's on the table on the patio, James. You left it out there last night."

"Thanks," Even through his makeshift face-covering you can see his grin, and you're sure his eyes are scrunched with happy little lines at the corners, "You're a lifesaver, babe."

"Just get out," You breathe, heart pounding in your ears, "And- and you'd better be clothed when I get out of the shower!"

He takes your advice. Partially, you suppose, because when you wrap a towel around yourself and step out of the tiled walls, James is standing at the kitchen counter pantsless, brushing his teeth. The shirt he's wearing is yours, and it's cropped, and his lower half is completely exposed.

"James!" You snap, nearly dropping your towel in an attempt to cover your eyes, "I said clothed!"

"I am clothed!" He insists, words garbled with toothpaste foam, "You were freaking out about tits in the shower, so I covered mine! What more do you want?"

"Pants, James, pants! I want you to put on pants!"

"You're not wearing pants," James grumbles, "That's not fair."

"I've got a towel-" You break off, suppressing an exasperated scream as your cheeks flare once more, "James, best friends don't see each other naked."

"Yes they do," He snorts, "We do. Why wouldn't they?"

"'Cause it's inappropriate," You whine, still scrunching your eyes shut in the warm bathroom, clutching your towel for dear life, "That's something only your girlfriend should see."

"Eh," He spits his toothpaste into the sink, you hear it hit the basin, and you imagine him shrugging, "You're close enough. 'Think we should just kiss and make it official?"

"James," You warn, stomach engaging in an impressive gymnastics routine," Do not joke about kissing me while your cock is out."

"Relax, darling," You hear him rinse and spit, then you feel his lips against your temple, a sensation that makes you full-body flinch, "Wasn't a joke. I'm gonna go put some pants on, m'kay?"

And just like that, he's gone. Of course, he doesn't bother closing the bathroom door behind him, and the second you shut it your back is pressed against it, head thrown against the door. Evidently, it makes too loud of a noise, and your silent freakout is interrupted by James.

It seems to be what he does best.

"Darling?" He calls, doorknob turning beside you, held closed only by your weight, "Are you alright in there? Did you fall?"

"No! No, James," You call, eyes wide and cheeks ablaze, "Don't come in."

"Are you okay?" He presses on, and you gush, 'Yes!'

"I'm fine," You promise, trying desperately not to envision James's half-naked form so that you don't need another, much colder shower, "Just- put some pants on, James. Please."

#james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #james potter one shot #james potter one-shot #james potter headcanon #james potter headcanons #james potter hc #james potter hcs #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter dialogue #james potter fluff #james potter x reader fanfiction #roommate!james

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alphabetboyluvr · 1 year

Text

throttle │ jjk - one

this fic is my baby and has just hit 400k over on wp, so I'm sharing her here too he he

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven

warnings - jungkook is blonde <3, he's also a bit of an asshole. dangerous driving, alcohol consumption, nothing major, we're setting scenes, building worlds just to ruin them woohoo. mentions of violence, gang dynamics. both the oc and jk swear like sailors.

word count - 17.8k

minors dni // posted to wp late 2021 // series masterlist

The bell above the gas station door always chimes just a little bit louder than is really necessary.

In fact, the shrill clang of metal is so intrusive, that it feels borderline rude every single time a customer swings the door open. It's only natural for you to ignore it now, affronted by the way it distracts your focus.

It's not like you're ever doing anything important. Just flicking through the day's newspapers or counting stock.

Although, come to think of it, you're never actually counting stock, either. You leave that job for Jieun, because you know she's a stickler for the rules, and likes feeling accomplished after her shifts are finished.

You're not really sure how much accomplishment can be derived from a part-time job at a GS25 attached to a gas station forecourt, but she seems to enjoy it.

This job really isn't for you - but it's better than following your father into local politics, and nepotism is all you really have going for you, considering you flunked the college entrance exam. An act of rebellion, for the corruption scandal your father had chosen to embroil himself in during your senior year, you had refused to write a single word on the paper.

You thought it would embarrass him - and it did. Just at your expense.

And so, while it may not be your childhood dream of being a pop star, or a vet, or anything of any significance, ringing up bills at the gas station is how you're able to pay your own bills. It'll do for now.

You ignore the chime of the bell as the door to the service station opens once more.

It's the start of the year, and the breeze is bitter whenever it rushes in. This time, the wind is accompanied by a guy in his mid-thirties. Dark slacks, burgundy jumper. His off-brand sliders scuff across the floor as he traipses round to the refrigerator, bottle clinking as he picks up a little soju and some beer for his evening. It's not an uncommon occurrence for men his age.

You hypothesise his next move. To the snack section to pick up something for his kids? Maybe straight to the kiosk to pay for his fuel? You check the screen, and notice he's barely added enough gas to cover the minimum charge.

A scornful mutter of 'priorities' laces your lips, as you see him put back the soju and reach for the whisky instead.

Still, you can't blame him. It's fucking freezing. A little whisky to warm him up will probably be as cost-effective as getting a new boiler that actually works.

It's all just an assumption of course.

You don't know this man, and you don't have a clue if his boiler works or not - but thinking about the lives of the people you meet for split fractions of time always helps to make your shift go quicker.

He comes to the counter, pays, and leaves.

You wonder if he's made up a life for you in his head, too.

Probably not. He probably already has an actual life to distract him from his thoughts. Maybe that's what the whisky is for.

And there you go again; hypothesising. Thinking. Putting your assumptions onto strangers.

The next customer is a girl around your age, wearing a fluffy pink coat and hoops big enough to be worn as bangles. She arrives on foot, pushing the swing door open without much care for excessive force.

You decide, all rather quickly, that she must work at the gentlemen's club around the corner from the gas station. She's buying a coffee, iced, and nothing else.

It's when she's at the kiosk that you realise your make-believe life for her is terribly inaccurate. She fumbles with her purse, dropping her staff I.D. card.

She's a nurse. Paediatric nurse, to be specific. The coffee she's picked up isn't for a boost before a shift on the poles, but to keep her going through a night on the wards.

And yet despite how your assumptions are so often so wrong, you still consider yourself to be a good judge of character.

It's a flaw, the way you always seem to think you can read people; think you can look at their demeanour, their clothes, and assume their financial status, what they do after the sun sets, and if they're going home to an empty house or not.

Your thoughts become lore. The gas station you work in is the thick leather cover that protects your make-believe world from outsiders.

When the bell chimes again, you don't look up.

It's a habit. You don't want to make eye contact. It breaks the illusion that these people are just characters in your head.

Instead, you glance up to the curved mirror in the far corner of the shop. It acts as a second pair of eyes, and is ignored by pretty much all of the customers - except for the teenage girls who like to take selfies in it.

Tall, you assess when you finally find the new customer in the mirror. Broad.

His posture a little sloped, but all things considered, he carries himself well. He heads for the refrigerators, just like every man above the age of 19 seems to do on a Friday night. There's that clink again, and you guess he's going for soju. He's young, so it seems apt. Whatever's cheapest seems to be the drink of choice for the guys your age, and you can't blame them.

You watch, cautious to not catch his gaze, as he heads to the food fridge.

Gimbap, you guess. Tuna, not chicken. One roll, not two.

He pulls out his phone to check a notification, and you notice just how hard his gaze is. There's a ridge between his brows, and a couple silver ballbearings accenting the brow farthest from you. Whatever he's reading on his phone, he doesn't like.

Girlfriend, you guess again. No. An ex. No, no. A FWB turned far-too-clingy.

He looks like the type to be after something a little casual.

The tattoos on his hands are nothing special - you've seen hands like his in countless 'sneaky' Instagram stories; a hand on the thigh, holding a bag. Y'know, the ones. The kind of shit girls post with the caption 'private, not secret' - but you both know there's nothing really 'private' about it. The owner of the hands will be blocked within a week or two, once the girl realises he's nothing special, just like his hands.

You hear him mutter beneath his breath. You can't quite make it out, but the way he shakes his head lets you know that it was most likely a curse. He locks his phone, tucks it into the back pocket of his jeans, and carries on looking for something to eat.

You watch as his gaze lifts and falls.

That's it, you urge silently. Go for the gimbap.

You want to be proven right.

He's already got a green bottle tucked into the pocket of his black bomber jacket, so you know you've got his choice of drink correct. You're assuming that your guess about his phone is correct, too, so you only need one more right to get a full house.

As he looks across the snacks - gimbap, vacuum-sealed meats, cheese, strawberry sandwiches and enough microwavable food to feed an orphanage - he pushes his hair out of his face. The way it falls back down almost instantly makes you smile.

He needs a haircut - but you bet that his FWB (turned far-too-clingy lover) loves it, so he keeps it long for her satisfaction. It's bleached; pale as the sticky rice balls he's eyeing up, with dark roots that let you know he's trouble. No boy with hair like that has ever been good news. Especially not the ones who look like him.

Or so you guess look like him. He's wearing a mask. It's black, to match his outfit, cinched at the nose, hooked around ears that are studded up the sides. He must have, what? Five? Six? Little square studs in there. Airport security must be a nightmare.

You smile to yourself as he reaches for gimbap. One roll, not two. Tuna, not chicken. Bingo.

"Pump six," he says as he approaches the counter. You already know. It's been waiting on the screen since he walked in. There's no one else in the forecourt. "And these."

He tosses down the gimbap, and pulls the soju from his pocket, an old receipt coming with it. Kang's Auto Repairs it reads, but he stuffs it back into his pocket before you can read anything else.

"We're cheaper," you note, not really caring for revealing just how incredibly nosey you are. There's a perspex screen between you, which always makes you feel protected - from people, their judgements and whatever other airborne diseases they might be carrying. From the looks of him, the only diseases he'll be carrying are the ones found beneath the sheets. He's too well-built to be suffering from any ailments - but equally, too well built to not to be fucking about. "Cheaper than Kang's, I mean. He'll charge you an arm and a leg for the honour of his service."

"Hmm?" He raises a brow, obviously just wanting to pay for his shit and go. "Thanks, but I like Kang's. Been going there for years."

You hold back a laugh. He's no older than you. 24? 25? Yet he's talking like he's been loyal to that over-priced, under-qualified garage for decades. The neighbourhood is littered with garages, scrap part dealers and gas stations, and yet Kang's is the main competitor for your place. It's not even in this neighbourhood - it's across the river, which is a different district entirely, but the proximity is close enough. Your boss will never miss an opportunity to shit talk Old Man Kang and his 'con-artist' car mechanics. He doesn't think any of them are actually trained.

"Yeah, well," you smile, scanning his items, pretending there's a fault with the barcode on his gimbap just to be a little annoying. "Our guy, Yoongi, he's a specialist with those." You nod out of the window and towards the car by pump six. It's red; a little bit brash, but a classic. "Pony, right? Hyundai? '80?"

"Pony," he nods, tone neutral but eyes a little narrow. Doesn't know why, but he didn't expect you to know - and then he remembers you work at a garage. Of course you know. Got the year wrong, though."It's an '83. A mark two. I'll keep the suggestion in mind," he adds, though you both know he's lying. "How much do I owe you?"

He doesn't really listen as you list off the figure. Just hands you his card, hums when you ask for his signature - sign of a big spender, must be a full tank - and says little else. His phone buzzes on the counter as he stuffs his purchases back into his pockets, and you glance down - again, not caring for the discretion of your nosey tendencies.

KNJ. (1) New Message.

Sneaky bastard, you think. How rude of him not to have his message previews displayed.

You're not sure if he caught you looking, but he snaps his phone up regardless and shoves it into his back pocket.

"Cheers," he nods, before he sets off into the night. Car unlocked, he slides into the driver's seat and empties his pockets onto the passengers' side. You watch on for a moment, before there's a rattle of his exhaust pipe, engine roaring into action - and like that, he's gone. You assume he's not on his way to his FWB (turned far-too-clingy lover). Wouldn't have bought tuna if he was. Then again, he's a guy. You don't expect him to care about such social cues.

Maybe he's just left hers. His neck did seem a little red, but then again, it's cold. Minus 3. The river you walk across to get to work is frozen over, and has been for about two weeks now. You've got a heat pack stuffed in either pocket of your work jacket.

Well, Yoongi's work jacket. It's his name stitched into the breast pocket - but it's bigger than yours, so you can fit a few more layers beneath it. If the boss saw you in it, he'd have a bitch fit for 'not following company protocols,' and for not caring about the 'company brand image'. Which is true. You're neither following protocols, nor do you care about the company nor its brand image.

It's just gone nine on a Friday night, though, and the boss clocked out a few hours ago with a bottle of makgeolli and the day's newspaper under his arm. He's not gonna see. And if he does, what's he gonna do? Fire you? Good luck to him finding anyone else who wants to spend their winter nights freezing half-to-death in this shit hole of a gas station.

By the time midnight hits, you've been yawning for at least an hour. Keeping yourself warm is a laboursome task.

"You're gonna catch a cold," Yoongi acknowledges as he enters the shop through the back entrance. He's still wrapped up in a calf-length puffa jacket, all warm and cosy. He heads out past the kiosks as normal, up to the fridges. Bagged americano and a cup of ice. You know his score - and you're proven right. "Tell me why I agreed to cover your night shift, again?" he says with a slight shiver as he scans through his own items.

Though he's typically out fixing up cars behind the service station, he helps you out at the kiosk too. Normally just when there are staff shortages - which in all fairness, occur more frequently than you'd expect.

"'Cause you love me," you sing, knowing that it's entirely plausible.

Yoongi - stone-cold, stoic, as emotionally inept as you'd expect a bachelor verging on his 30s to be - could very much be in love with you. It's not like he really speaks to many other women, and he's never given you a reason to believe he's not interested.

But he does give you his jacket, cuts you slack on the days you feel like shit, and covers the shifts you don't want to work without asking any questions. Sometimes he sneaks you the food that was meant to be tossed in the bin overnight, and other times he makes sure there's a peach tea waiting for you when you clock in.

"It's 'cause I love money," he corrects, as if the extra 30,000 won he'll make from the last three hours of your shift is really an incentive. He's already spent 3,000 on his coffee. "Now scram. Get yourself home. Fucking freezing tonight. Want me to call you a cab?"

That'll be an extra 7,000 to his evenings' expenses. You really don't think he does love the money. At least not enough for it to be a reasonable excuse.

"It's good," you shake your head. "You know I'm not far away."

He nods, not really fighting your choices. It's not like you ever accept his offer anyway. He learned quite a long time ago that if you want something done, you'll do it for yourself.

Y'see, you're not the only one who watches.

Yoongi watches you too, as you tap through on the screen to log yourself out and cash up the till.

You've only run 260,000 through your till in the last four hours, barely enough to make ends meet for the gas station. No wonder the place hasn't had any upgrades - with the exception of tills and a new fridge every now and again - since the mid-noughties. The signs are rusting, and Yoongi still has to change the fuel prices by hand every morning.

On the rare shifts you work together, you like to make assumptions together. You guess what people are gonna buy, hypothesise where they're going, who they're going with. When you hear bottles clink, you guess which flavour soju they're going for, as if you don't only have 4 flavours stocked. During the summer, you like to guess who's filling up their tanks to go to the coast.

The door chimes as a new customer walks in, and Yoongi knocks his head back. "Go on, out. I'll cash your till up. It's all good."

You ask if he's sure, to which he smiles and tells you to leave again - so you do. Not without thanking him, and fluttering your lashes a little. Maybe it is your fault, just a little, that Yoongi might be a tiny bit in love with you.

"I owe you the world!" You squeal as you skip out the door. He laughs, but says nothing. He just wants you home and safe as quickly as possible.

Yoongi doesn't mind covering your shifts, not this late at night. He knows this area doesn't have the best reputation, and despite your sharp tongue, he knows that you'd stand absolutely no chance if someone decided that it seemed like a good place to commit a felony or two.

It's a debate you've had a few times before. You know he's right, but you fight against him regardless. It always makes him smile, and only adds to your theory that he might be a little bit in love with you.

You forget the quiet thrum in your chest as soon as the cold air hits you. Yoongi traded his jacket with you before you left; him now in his work uniform, and you in his thick puffa which reaches down to your ankles. Hands stuffed into his pockets, your shoulders hunch as you walk, a mask covering your face just to keep the heat in. Your scarf is wrapped around you so tightly that you might just suffocate, but it would be worth it, you think. You hate this time of year. So fucking cold, and for what?

The bridge lights are off by the time you reach it, illuminated only by a couple of cars. They're sat up towards the far end, facing you, and you sigh. Every fucking weekend.

It's not always the same cars, but quite often it is - or some variation of the same group, at least. They sit, waiting for traffic to die down and the lights to cut off, before turning the bridge into their own little speedway.

You should have guessed from the sound of that asshole's exhaust earlier that evening that he'd be one of them.

The fact he goes to Kang's, too.

It's obvious, when you think about it now.

Guys his age never fill up their tanks - but he did. Filled it up just to spit it all out again, painting the road in iridescent speckles of gas.

You can see the Pony. It's the car farthest away from you, next to a black SsangYong.

You can't make out the model of the SsangYong, but it looks fast. It's lowered, windows tinted, exhaust tampered with, just to create an almighty roar - which screams 'I have a tiny cock'.

At least with the Pony, you can tell that the sound being delivered comes from his engine. Credit where it's due, and all that. He could still very much have a tiny cock, but at least he's better at hiding it.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you hug into yourself to preserve heat. The lights of the cars make you a little self-conscious, aware that you're the only thing in sight that's disturbing their peace. There's ice on the road, but you pay it no notice, knowing that there's no point in worrying about one of the cars swerving off-road as they inevitably shoot past you.

If it happens, it happens.

The SsangYong is loud. Obnoxiously, so. You can hear pressure being put down and released on the gas pedal, clutch raised. He's teasing you. Warning you. Hurry up.

Next to it, the Pony hums. He doesn't seem interested in taunting you as if you could fight a two-tonne vehicle as it hurtles towards you. That, or he doesn't want to waste his gas. Lord knows he'll be wasting enough of it tonight as it is.

"Try me, fucker," you mumble under your breath, eyes trained on the black car. You can't make out its driver, nor do you really care.

It's at this point you notice a guy on the opposite side of the road.

He flashes the torch of his phone, once, twice. The Pony kicks into gear now, too, revving to rival the SsangYong. You're halfway across the bridge, wishing they could have just waited, like, one more minute. But whatever. Assholes will be assholes.

The torch guy is out of your line of vision by the time you hear tyres screech against the ice-cold road, rubber-burning regardless. The Ssangyong bolts, fumes from the exhaust fogging in the air behind it. You expect the Pony to do the same.

It takes you half a second to realise it's stagnated, and another half to realise that things aren't going to plan for Mr Gimbap.

There's a thud from the back wheels as they lock and release, causing the wheels to spin out. You've seen enough wheel spins now to know one, and as the Pony lurches forward, you know that's exactly what it is - but you also know the road is icy.

The fun of a wheel spin, or so Yoongi likes to tell you, is that brief moment of lost control. He likes to do it whenever he gives you a lift home, because he finds the way you freak out funny - but he's always in command of his vehicle. He's never done it with you in the car during the winter. He knows better. Doesn't actually want to lose control.

At least, not like the dude in the driver's seat of the Pony currently is.

The back kicks out, sending him swerving. The front wheels are a fucking mess, his hands twisting the wheel in an attempt to rectify his fuck up. It's fruitless. He's off the clutch, the wheels aren't spinning, but he's already on the ice, and he's hurtling towards you.

You're aware you should run, but like the river, you're stuck. Frozen in place.

Maybe you should have accepted Yoongi's offer of a taxi. RIP.

There's another biting screech as you're doused in headlights, and you're pretty sure that this is what people mean when they say you see the light before you die. Fucking blinding. No way those lamps are regulation approved.

It's as you're bracing yourself for the inevitable end (and thinking about how embarrassing it's going to be when your family is tasked with clearing out your apartment after your demise - you haven't cleaned for weeks, laundry has been sat in the washer for two days, and there's a pizza box that you don't dare look in sitting next to the bin) that miracle seems to strike.

The Pony hits an uniced patch just in time for the driver to slam on his breaks. Handbrake, by the sound of it, but you're not sure. Not really sure of anything. Your heart is beating in your throat.

Steam is coming from the heat of the tyres, but the air around you is frozen, and so are you. You're not sure if it's from the cold or from the shock. A bit of both probably. You don't shake out of it until the driver's door pops open.

"The fuck are you doing?" He shouts. His mask is off now, not like it had been in the store. Light glimmers off yet more metal stuck in face, this time a ring around his plump bottom lip. His nose, though well proportioned, is blushed. "I could have fucking hit you!"

"Uh, yeah?" You almost laugh, too stunned to compute the fact that he was shouting at you. "Yeah, you could have fucking hit me, you asshole-"

"The fuck are you doing on the bridge? This late? Wearing all fucking black? I know you work around here, so I know you know what this place is used for-"

"Yeah, it's a bridge," you deadpan. It's notorious for racing, but who cares? It's not like you're in the wrong here. He's the one breaking laws. You're just trying to go home. "It's used to cross rivers. So, yanno, people working night shifts can walk home without rowing a fucking boat. Pretty neat actually, invented by the Greeks."

"Don't be smart," he scolds. "You saw us gearing up, you knew what was about to ha-"

"I'm sorry," you really are laughing now. "Are you telling me that I'm in the wrong? You? The asshole who's racing his shitty car on an icy fucking bridge? The asshole who can't control his aforementioned shitty car-"

"Can control it," he snaps. "If I couldn't, you'd be fucking dead."

"Oh, well thank you very much! How kind of you to not kill me as a result of your reckless driving. No, really. I appreciate it so much. How ever can I repay you?"

"You know what?" He calls after you when you begin to walk away. As far as you're concerned, the conversion is done. "Next time, I will just hit you."

"Be my fucking guest!" You shout back, holding your middle finger up to wave goodbye. "Stick to Kang's next time, you pretentious, self-absorbed cunt."

"Gladly."

"Oh, and by the way," you begin to say in a sickly sweet tone, which you just know is going to piss him off. You turn to find him standing, facing the bridge wall, looking at the river that's illuminated only by the headlamps of his car, like two little moons. The real one is hidden by clouds. "You'll have better control if you release the clutch a little slower. Wheelspin like that? Yeah, someone needs to practise their clutch control."

He looks like he wants to say something, but instead, he just flares his nostrils and grates his jaw. He knows you're right. Knows he missed the mark - but he'd been distracted when he noticed you on the bridge. You threw him off his game.

Equally, you know he's a good driver. The way he gained control of his car on the ice was borderline expert. Impressive. You won't go as far to say life-saving, because if it wasn't for his driving in the first place, your life wouldn't have needed any God Damn saving.

You walk backwards for a step or two, just to gloat in the knowledge you've gotten the last word. He glares at you, but stays silent. Victory.

"Oi, Kook. The fuck was that about?" A distant voice yells. The SsangYong driver, you assume.

"Nothin'," he yells back. His eyes are still on you, watching as you hunch a little, folding your arms over your chest. You must be freezing, he thinks. Stupid, too. The area is littered with taxis on Friday nights. Why anyone would choose to walk is beyond him. He casts you one final stare, his chest heaving from the adrenaline, before he turns away from you. "Stupid bitch almost got herself killed. Starting line. Let's go again."

────────────

You don't mention your near-death experience to Yoongi when you see him at work the following Monday. You know he'll just worry, and then he'll really start insisting on ordering cabs for you.

Worse yet, you think he might just order them to arrive when your shift finishes, and then you'll have to take them. No point in making mountains out of molehills.

Customers are always steady on Mondays; people fuelling up for the working week, replenishing stocks wasted on the weekends.

By the time it hits four, school kids are piling in. They're picking up snacks, something to fuel them between mandatory classes and the additional ones they've picked up at hagwons. Poor suckers, you always think.

It's been years since you did the same grind, and you still don't fully understand just why you worked yourself to the bone, only to end up working in a fucking service station.

It had never been the dream. Still isn't - but it beats being hired on account of nepotism, thanks to a father with an unlawful influence in the city.

Your family name - which you don't go by, these days - is on the side of buildings, in the list of hospital beneficiaries, even on the local soccer team's fucking shirts. You're cursed with it; no identity of your own. Even when did try to get a job without the backing of your family, people still knew. Your face has been at God knows how many press junkets, playing the role of the Mayor's darling daughter.

All bullshit, of course.

Your father is just as good at saving face as he is at making investments. Turns out there really is nothing money can't buy; support for a mayoral campaign, the silence of a nanny - of whom he started fucking when you were still in middle school - and enough pearls to keep your mother happy after she found out.

Cars, houses, material goods? You'd wanted for nothing as a kid.

Privilege. It's a funny little thing. You had the world, and yet none of it was yours. Not really. And so, as soon as you were of legal age, you were out of the family home, trying to find some concrete meaning for your life.

All you'd found so far was the harrowing knowledge that your father's mayoral tenure had been hell for those without the privileges you'd been raised with, and therefore you'd distanced yourself so far from your family that you weren't even sure they'd recognise you, anymore.

"You good?" Yoongi asks, around about the time the clock hits five. He's by the back entrance, wiping his oil-covered hands on an old rag. "Just finishing up."

"Good," you nod in response to his question. You give him a fond smile to let him know that the perplexed expression he'd caught on your face was nothing to be worried about, and then you ask him his plans for the evening.

There are only a few more hours left on the clock for you. It's a mid-shift, someone else coming in to work the night rotation. You've never liked these shifts - the highest influx of customers, but by far the least interesting interactions.

They come and go so quickly that it's hard to make up a fake life for them, before they're replaced by the next sullen face, wanting to get in and out as quickly as possible.

"Gimmie a call if you need a lift," Yoongi calls over as he gets his jacket to leave. Off comes his work one, tossed over to you, replaced with the black puffa you returned that morning.

"Will do," you nod - and you both know you're lying. Still, he's a gentleman through and through. Wouldn't have felt right if he didn't at least offer. The bell on the entryway door chimes, but you don't look over to see the customer, choosing to smile at your friend instead. "Catch ya later, Yoongs."

"Yeah, you too," he smiles back, zipping up his coat and pulling up his mask. He's walking home, too, but it's still light. It will be dark by the time nine hits, and even though he doesn't know about last Friday night, he still doesn't like the idea of you walking home alone.

You hear the clink of glasses by the fridge, but the view is obscured by an obnoxious advertising standee your boss has insisted you put up inside the store. You tried telling him that the whole point was to draw customers in, not block them from even entering, but he was having none of it. Doesn't trust the kids in the neighbourhood not to nick it.

There's a crunch as the lid of the chest freezer is slid open, a cup of ice rattling as it's pulled from the stack. You only filled it up half an hour ago.

Annoying. And who the fuck is drinking an iced drink on a day like today? You think, as if Yoongi doesn't reach for an iced americano before each and every shift. You're just as bad. Your peach tea habit is becoming an issue.

You glance to the forecourt to check which pump to ring through - and that's when you see it.

Sat in bay six, as proud as the paint is bright, is that stupid fucking Pony again. With a small scoff, you pull up the balance - just over 30,000. Half a tank. Already.

Hardly a surprise, with the way he had been ragging it about on Friday evening. Must be a common occurrence.

As he comes into your line of vision, you busy yourself.

Turning your back to the kiosk, you're arranging cigarettes that don't need to be arranged, purely so that you don't have to look at him. The bottom of his soju bottle clinks against the counter, the ice and a coffee bag following suit. You still don't turn around, instead opting to look through the 'how-to' manual for the lottery machine, just to really reinforce the fact that serving him is the last thing you want to do.

Had you not told him to stick to Kang's?

"Ahem," he coughs.

You pause mid-page turn and look vacantly into the distance for a moment, before facing him with a smile so insincere it's almost comical.

"Sorry, didn't see you there."

He nods, but doesn't say anything further. He's in all black again, this time with a sweater beneath his bomber. Air quality is still bad, thanks to the cold temperatures and lack of rain to clear the skies, so he's wearing a mask again, but it's perched beneath his jaw. His poker face holds up well.

You ring up his total, ignoring the fact he's chosen to go for a peach tea, not coffee like you'd assumed, and ask if he wants a receipt. He declines, and heads on his way, scooping up his soju bottle, leaving the peach tea.

"Oi," you call after him, but he ignores you."Oi."

Still, nothing. He pushes the door open with his knuckles that are wrapped tightly around the neck of his bottle, not paying you any attention. He's just being a dick at this point. You know he can hear you.

"Oi," you shout again, sliding out from behind the kiosk and following him to the door. You don't grab his drink - he can go back and pick it up himself, the asshole.

"Kook," you shout, remembering the name the SsangYong driver had called him by.

He stops now.

"Oh," he turns, lips pursed, before throwing your words right back at you. "Sorry, didn't see you there."

Neither of you say anything. It's fucking freezing, and you can see your breath as you huddle yourself together. His eyes are soft, expression gentle, to suggest he's only teasing, but you can't work him out.

"You left your drink."

He shakes his head. Holds up his soju. "No, I didn't. That's yours. You like them, right? It's what you were drinking the other day?"

You narrow your eyes, only for him to raise his brows. You aren't the only nosey one, doll.

"Bit weird," you tell him.

Retrospectively, he thinks you're probably right. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. He hadn't intended for it to be so strange - he just isn't great at admitting when he's in the wrong, so a peace offering is a far more tempting solution.

He digs a hand into his pocket, almost as if he's searching for the remains of his dignity, but simply shrugs. "I know I was a bit of a prick."

Acknowledgements of flaws are always welcome by you, but you really don't fancy just forgiving and forgetting. As stupid as it all seems, it was a life or death situation. A peach fucking tea wouldn't have resurrected you or uncrushed your bones.

"Yeah," you nod, biting down on your lip, a little unsure of how to handle the situation. "You were. And not just 'a bit' of a prick. Massive prick, actually."

He repeats your correction, and adds, "You just took me by surprise. I panicked. I'm not usually that..."

"Unreasonable? Arsey? Unable to control your clutch?"

"All of the above," he smiles, and you notice that he has dimples. Asshole. "Look, I won't bother you again. It just wasn't sitting right with me, the way I behaved. My mother would have been rolling in her grave if she heard me speak to a girl like that, especially so late at night. It was a dick move... and so," he inhales, looking at the ground before briefly meeting your eyes again. They're round and wide, almost as if he's incapable of telling lies. "I'm sorry."

There's silence for a moment, and then there's the flash of headlights as a second car rolls into the forecourt. You both turn to check the car, but it's just a standard family saloon. Nothing worth checking out, but it's enough to end the conversation.

"Stick to Kang's," you simply say as he pops open the door to his car. "I appreciate the sentiment, though. Was sweet."

He nods, fully intending on sticking to Kang's. He just needed to do this before he could move on from things.

Or at least, that's the assumption that you make as he drives away.

You wait for a little while, ignoring the man clicking the gas nozzle into the side of his car, just watching the now empty road where the small red car had sped off from. You wonder where he's going, but determine he's most likely going to that FWB you've decided he has.

Turning on your heels slowly, you let your body weight fall into the swing door, pushing it open with your shoulder. The bell jingles, like always, and for some reason, it kind of feels like the sound has settled in your stomach. It's all jittery and annoying, and you don't quite understand it. You definitely don't like it, whatever this feeling is.

It's the same feeling that washes over you next Thursday afternoon, when the bell chimes and you glance out the window, only to see a red Hyundai fucking Pony sat in bay six.

He begins to make a habit of it. Neither of you really address it. He just keeps showing up, filling his tank up, and buying whatever tickles his fancy from the snack fridge. It's nearly always gimbap. Occasionally he'll pick up something a little more substantial, and it's always accompanied with soju on Friday nights.

It takes about three weeks for you to be able to distinguish the way in which he opens the shop door. The bell chimes a little slower than normal, his casually cool demeanour preventing him from using too much force to open it. It will always 'ding' for just a bit longer than when other people push open the door. Doesn't matter where you are in the shop, what time it is. You always know when it's him.

It's a Saturday when you hear the unmistakable sound of him again, 4 weeks since that first time.

You can't see him, thanks to the standee that is still obstructing your view, but you can hear the fridges. One, two, bottles of soju. There's another clang. Three? Unusual. It's when he heads to the snack fridge that you realise you're off your game.

He's holding beers - four of them. Making the most of the four for 10,000 deal, you muse. The bottles are green, so you assume Terra, but there are some foreign imports in the fridge, too. You kind of stop guessing at this point, too busy watching. His hair is messy, like aways, and the flannel shirt he's wearing is in need of an iron, but you have to admit - there's a certain charm about him.

Your eyes flick to the door to check that nobody else has entered, and are proven correct - so why does your stomach still feel like that bloody bell chiming?

"Am I good to leave these here?" He asks, drawing your attention back to him. He's already putting the beers down on the counter, so it's not really like you can say no. "Haven't filled up yet, just wanted to check that you had what I was after, first."

"Beers?" You laugh almost immediately. "It's a GS25, dude. Course we have beers."

"Right," he nods, scrunching his nose up a little as he smiles. It was a stupid excuse, and he knew it. Part of you thinks he actually looks a little bashful. It's sweet. Confusing - but sweet, nonetheless. "I'll just go fill up."

"Uh-huh," you nod, when he doesn't leave immediately, almost as if he's waiting for permission. He laughs, and so do you. It's awkward, and you don't know why but you find yourself dropping his gaze. "Just go fill up your car."

"Yeah, yeah," he says. "Fill up. Right."

You move his bottles to the side just in case of another customer, and set about making yourself look busy, but you're a simple being. It's hard to do anything other than wistfully stare when a boy that pretty is stood in your forecourt.

He pays you no notice as he unscrews his gas cap and positions the nozzle against the opening of his car.

There's a casual nature to his posture, leaning back ever so slightly as he slides the length of the nozzle into his car, displaying just how in tune he is with doing such a menial task. It's second nature at this point.

He watches the nozzle, then lifts his gaze above the car and out towards the road. His eyes are hard, focused almost, that little line forming between his brows again. Almost like he's looking for something.

There's a click as his gas reaches its limit, and he withdraws the nozzle slightly, letting the excess drip into the tank. He knocks it once, twice, against the entrance to be sure that he's emptied it of every last drop, before he slides it out and hooks it back into its holder.

You finally avert your eyes as he screws the cap back into place, your fingers working nimbly to bring up his total on the screen.

There's that ringing feeling again when you notice he's barely reached the minimum spend, yet you could hear the tell-tale sign of a full tank from the forecourt. He hadn't needed gas at all.

He could have just gotten a few bottles of beer from any of the convenience stores in the area - and yet for some reason, he made his excuse to come to you.

The silage of his aftershave lingers by the kiosk, and you remind yourself that he's probably off to see a girl you've made up in your head. The beers are probably to be drunk with her. The flannel shirt is still creased because what's the point in ironing something that will just end up on the floor, anyway?

It's these thoughts that have you acting a little frosty again when he returns. You ring up his total, instruct him to put his card in the machine, as if he doesn't know what he's doing, and then you offer him a receipt.

He's a little confused by the fact you're as cold as the air outside.

Had your interactions not developed past the point of a typical cashier-customer relationship? Maybe he'd read the situation a little wrong.

"Kang's have beer," he finally adds, accepting his receipt, studying it, just to see if it has your name listed under the cashier ID. It does. He takes his time to fold it up, instead of just stuffing it into his back pocket. He's biding time. Making more for himself. "But I'm a bit of a liar," he says, ending his statement with your name. The way he says it, hanging onto the last syllable, taking claim of your identity as his gaze meets your eyes, has that stupid ringing feeling back in your stomach. "I'm not here for beers."

"No?" you ask, almost nonchalant. You're divided by a perspex screen, and you've never been more thankful. It's cutting the tension for you.

"No," he shakes his head. He's about to speak, when the bell of the door goes again - for real, this time. Not just in your stomach.

He steps aside to let the customer pay for their gas. It's a simple transaction, no added extras like Flannel Boy always has.

He stands awkwardly, toying at the bagged sweets with his ring adorned fingers. You decide that even if your assumptions about him are wrong, there's one that must be right: he knows he's hot.

The way he turns and smirks after the customer leaves, and says, "where were we?", only confirms this.

"You were saying how you weren't here for beer," you remind him, not that he actually needs it.

The perspex screen feels like a thick brick wall. You're simultaneously thankful for and annoyed by it.

"Ah, that's right," he nods. "You were saying how you're going to call in sick tomorrow night and meet me downtown."

"I'm gonna do what now?" You laugh, caught off guard by his boldness. He's smooth, you'll give him that much.

"You're gonna meet me downtown," he says simply, before adding, "Jungangno underground, exit two. The one near CGV. I can draw you a map-"

"Shut up," you laugh, blissfully ignoring the fact he's flirting with you. "I know Jungangno."

"So you'll meet me there?"

"I didn't say that."

He begins to gather up his beers, two in either hand, a smile etched on his cheeks. "So I'll see you tomorrow, at, hmm, say, 8?"

"No," you laugh.

"Yes," he grins back, walking away so that you don't have even more opportunities to reject his advances.

"No, you won't."

You sound so full of conviction when you say it. Determined. Self-assured.

Idiot.

────────────

You tell yourself that you're not going to go.

You told Mr Gimbap that, too, before he left the gas station, not that he was listening.

You tell yourself it again when you're thinking about what you could wear, and then you repeat it like an oath when you're texting Yoongi to see if he can cover your shift.

It's not like you're actually going to go.

You just want to check out your options.

And yet, somehow, you find yourself sitting on a bench outside a shitty burger chain at seven-fifty-six the next evening.

You're dressed casually, in a pair of jeans and a slouchy sweater which is a few sizes too big, but you think it looks cute. It's covered by a thick puffa jacket, regardless - cropped to your hips, unlike Yoongi's mammoth calf-length one.

He told you he'd be happy to cover your shift tonight when you asked, but you still feel a little guilty.

Mainly because when he asked why, you panicked and lied, telling him it was a friend's birthday.

You then also told yourself that you're definitely going to hell - but it's not like that's news to you.

It's still freezing, and you're thankful that you changed out of your converse and into a pair of boots before you left your apartment. Your hair is clipped up, make up the same as it normally is, just with a little more mascara than normal. You don't want to make it look like you've actually made an effort - but you definitely have.

You're about a mile and a half from work, but you can feel that bloody door chime in your stomach, again.

Should you walk away, a little? You don't want him to see you waiting.

Appearing too keen is the least of your desires.

Desperation isn't a good look for anyone. If anything, he should be the one waiting for you. Kind of rude that he isn't, actually. So you get up, and pace around a little, before thinking fuck it.

You hop on the elevator and head down into Jungangno underground mall, painfully aware of your stomach doing that stupid ringing thing again. Maybe it's vertigo. From, like, the change in altitude, or some shit like that. You're almost able to convince yourself that it's plausible. Almost.

The shops in the underground mall are a welcome distraction. Ajummas stand in dated clothing stores, offering low-quality clothes for even lower prices. It's crowded, and stuffy, but you're enjoying the distraction. You head for your favourite jewellery place, an emporium filled floor to ceiling with what must be thousands of jewellery pieces, and fumble through the racks of earrings.

You aren't wearing any, and remember that he - Kook, though you're not entirely sure that's actually his name - wore enough to open up his own jewellery store. You settle on a simple pair, just a couple silver hoops. It's a subtle difference, but one that makes you feel a little more confident. A little more willing to awkwardly say hello, and go on a date (if you can call it that) with a guy you barely know.

Pulling your phone out, you check the time. Seven past eight. Do-able. A little late, but not so late that it's rude. You head up the stairs, and are greeted with almost the exact same scene you had left ten minutes earlier.

Perhaps he's just running late. It's not embarrassing to be the first one waiting, not now that it's gone past the meeting time, but you can feel that ringing in your stomach begin to grate against your insides.

It hits eight-fifteen, and you're feeling anxious. Embarrassed. Even if he does show up now, it's obvious that you've been waiting there like a tragic, desperate excuse of a woman.

Five more minutes, you tell yourself.

But five turns into ten, and then another fifteen, and then it's nearly nine.

You pull out your phone and are barely able to type, thanks to how bloody cold it is.

How long until lateness turns into being stood up?

Opinions vary, but everyone on the little online forum you're reading seems to be of agreement that 45 minutes is the cut off point. 45 cold, lonely, mortifying minutes.

You imagine he's watching you, laughing from the warmth of a cafe, with that friends-with-benefits girl you've convinced yourself is definitely real.

God, you must look like a twat. You've been sat here for so fucking long. Your hands are numb, arse too, and you know you're gonna wake up with a cold - but none of these compare to your hurt pride. Not by a country mile.

With a sigh, you stand, admitting defeat. Being a jerk, you could get over. But this? Deliberately being cruel? You're proven right, after all. The guy is an asshole.

You hop on the 503 out of the downtown area and back towards home. The ride is lonely, city lights reflecting in your eyes as you gaze out the window and wonder at which point your life became this bleak. You work at a gas station, and got stood up by a guy who drives a fucking Pony. Mortifying.

The ding of the bus as it rolls into its stops reminds you of the chime of the gas station door - so you stay on for a few extra stops past your apartment building.

You're gentle as you press the red button to let the driver know you'd like to get off, but there's a little more traffic than normal, so he lets you off ahead of schedule. Odd. The roads are never normally blocked, not at this time of night.

You're only a couple hundred steps away from the bridge, but you notice the red and blue flashing lights across it almost instantly.

Your heart sinks to your stomach, right into the pit where the chime has been grating your insides apart. Still, you keep on walking. It's only the road that's blocked. Not the path. One foot in front of the next, you keep going, until your pace begins to increase. You can see the police cars now, and where they're parked.

Fuck the kid you barely know, fuck feeling sorry for yourself.

All you can think about is Yoongi.

There are four cars sitting outside your place of work, and you can hear an ambulance blast its sirens away from the gas station in an attempt to get through the crowd.

You're gonna be sick. You can feel it - or is that just the chime resting too far up in your oesophagus, now? You ignore it though, and begin to run, faster, faster, faster, boots clicking against the pavement as you draw closer to the gas station. Your boss is there, locked in conversation with a police officer, but Yoongi is nowhere to be seen.

A cop notices you approach, grabbing onto you as you attempt to run past the tape and into the store.

"Woah, woah, woah. Calm down, little lady-"

"Where is he?" You panic, not even caring to offended by the officers choice in tone. "Min Yoongi. The guy who was working. Yoongi, where is he?"

"Who are you?" The officer counters, and you want to scream.

"Where is he?!" You struggle against his grip, kicking out, but the officer is firm. He's trained to handle situations like this; girls like you. The little but fierce. The kind of girls Shakespeare wrote about. "Where the fuck is he?"

From across the forecourt, your boss calls over. "She's one of mine. Was meant to be working this shift. Did a last minute switch with Min Yoongi."

The officer nods, understanding the situation, but not easing his grip. "In that case, I'm gonna need you to come with me to the station. Need you to answer some questions."

You stop struggling. "I- What?"

"You're not under arrest. It's voluntary, but we'll have to go to the station," he speaks calmly, straight to the point. You notice that his nose is slightly crooked. You wonder how many people have punched it. Quite a few, probably, considering that you'd quite like to do the same.

"Just go," your boss calls over, not even looking in your direction. Asshole, you seethe internally. City is full of fucking assholes.

"Where the fuck is Yoongi?!" You demand to know, this time shouting towards your boss, who looks like he's in desperate need of a cigarette. He just fucking shrugs.

"C'mon, station," the officer says, deciding that enough is enough.

You don't know your rights. You can't fight back, not really, and you're starting to tear up, and everything feels like such a fucking mess. You just wanna know that Yoongi is safe, that he's well, that he's okay. If he's not, it's all your fault, and you don't even know how to process that.

In fact, you don't know how to process any of this. Your cheeks are wet before you're even sitting in the back of the police car. The engine rumbles, and before you know it, you're back downtown, but this time you're at the city's main police office.

It's hard to comprehend anything. You practically feel like you're dragged from the car and then dumped in the witness interrogation room. Some rookie cop is asking you questions, and you find yourself not wanting to answer a single one of them.

They're stupid fucking questions, for starters. Dumb shit.

Why did you switch your shift? Were you aware of a planned hold up at your place of work? Is that why you swapped? Who were you going on a date with? Why did you lie to Min Yoongi about your activities this evening? How do you not know the name of your date? Says on your file that you legally changed your name six years ago? Why? Anyone know of your family ties to politics?

Dumb questions reap dumb answers though, so once they realise they're getting nothing of any substance from you, they admit defeat. Tell you they'll be in touch if they need to follow up.

And then, after they've watched you cry for an hour and half over Yoongi, they tell you he's fine. Came in for routine questioning, but was released without charge (obviously) and drove back.

He's waiting for you in the lobby.

That temptation to break the officer's nose? Yeah. Intensifies.

"God, you fucking idiot," Yoongi speaks softly as you come into view, face all red and puffy from tears cried over him. He pulls you into his chest, and you can hear his heart thud, thud, thud, against your head. "Why did you go to work? Shouldda just gone home."

He calls you an idiot again, and you sniffle into his chest. There's a comforting scent to his clothes, a mix of gasoline and cotton, and it makes you feel a little calmer.

You pull away, and inspect his face. There's a small graze on his cheekbone, which is beginning to bruise, and a little dried blood crusting around his nostrils. Other than that, he seems okay.

He's silent as your fingers trace the pink flesh of his cheeks, lips resting a little ajar, unsure. Uncertain. He doesn't know what to make of such an outward display of concern - so he simply brushes it off.

"I'm fine, trouble," he promises, bringing his hands up to clasp your wrists and stop your hands from roaming. Doesn't wanna stop you. Not really. Just knows that he should. "C'mon, let's get you home."

And it's ridiculous, 'cause Yoongi was the one who had been held at knifepoint by three men that evening, the tills forcefully emptied and his life threatened if he didn't tell them where 'the girl' was.

He doesn't tell you that last part when he tells you what happened, though. Doesn't want to scare you. He's scared enough, himself.

It replays in his head, the way the guy with the knife doubled-down when Yoongi said he had no clue where you were. The clatter of the knife against the counter, the hands that tangled in his hair and slammed his face against the surface... yeah, they weren't memories he'd be forgetting any time soon.

Yoongi has few regrets in life, but taking the perspex screen down at the beginning of his shift to clean it definitely makes the list.

A conversation plays on loop, though, which scares him more than anything else.

"You said she'd be here. She ain't fuckin' here!" "Well she normally is. You know I've been keeping watch for weeks-" "Not hard enough." "Oh fuck you, you do it next time, prick."

Doesn't take a genius to work it out - and Yoongi's pretty smart, regardless. For whatever reason, they'd been hoping you'd be on shift.

"Do me a favour?" Yoongi asks as he rolls his car into your neighbourhood. He only lives around the corner from you, but it's too far, he thinks.

"Mhmm?"

"Kind of feel a bit..." he pauses, but doesn't elaborate. He doesn't need to. You already know. "Don't really wanna be alone."

"Stay at mine," you offer, straight off the bat, not giving it a second thought.

He shakes his head. Makes some excuse about your place being small. Avoids mentioning the fact he's scared that someones keeping tabs on you.

"I've got a spare room," he adds. "Makes more sense."

You'd be forgiven for thinking this is just another sign that the poor boy is helplessly infatuated with you. He knows he isn't really all that inconspicuous, but he also knows that the pair of you would never work. He just can't seem to help himself.

And so you end up in his bed, while he takes the pull out sofa in his spare room, because he's far too much of a gent to make you sleep on something so crappy. He leaves the heater on in your room, because you're always complaining about the cold, and tells you not to worry when you pout and mention the fact it will hike his heating bill. It's a small price to pay.

"All the money I've saved when you refuse taxis can go on the heater, instead."

Still, you click it off as soon as you're confident Yoongi won't be back in to check on you.

In the morning, when his hair is all fluffy and cheeks puffy from a crappy sleep, he orders breakfast and double-checks that you're okay to work the shift you're scheduled on for. You remind him that he was the one held at knifepoint. Not you.

You're not surprised to learn that Yoongi thinks two iced americanos and half a bagel each qualifies as 'breakfast', but you appreciate it nonetheless.

"I can cover, if needs be," he rambles, bagel in one hand, americano in the other, while you watch on with a smile. His cheek has bruised rather spectacularly, and you wonder if it aches as much as your heart does. "Boss gave me a couple days off, but I don't love the idea of you being there alone-"

The guilt of asking him to cover the night before is eating you alive. You don't think you'll ever ask him to cover for you again. Karma will catch up with you, you're sure, but for now, you'll be your own Saturn.

"I'll be fine," you smile. "Lightning never strikes twice."

────────────

When Jungkook drives, he drives alone.

No music, no radio, just him and the open road. He likes to hear the way the tarmac sounds beneath his tyres, and how the engine purrs a little louder when he steps on the gas. It's therapy in a way - though, with the amount that he spends on gas, he's pretty certain that an actual therapist would probably be cheaper.

The roads are empty, morning sun breaking beyond the mountains that line Daegu, as he makes his way past the bridge over the river, and out towards Kang's. There's a boxing studio next door, owned by Old Man Kang himself, a little decrepit and definitely not the kind of place you end up by chance.

It's the kind of place that's bestowed upon those who need it; the people looking for a home. A family. A cult, some like to joke, though Jungkook thinks they're half right. For him, it's somewhere to hide when the world gets too invasive; a shadow in the spotlight.

Old Man Kang's boxing club is a shit hole, when Jungkook looks at it objectively. Wires hang from the ceiling, and the walls have needed a paint ever since he'd first stepped foot into the place six years ago. He thinks about doing it sometimes, just showing up early before anyone else arrives, with a can of white emulsion from Daiso and a few brushes. Never does it, though. Would be a thankless job. Old Man Kang probably wouldn't even notice.

And if he did? He'd probably make Jungkook pay for 'defacing his property.'

As he pulls his car into the forecourt, parking up by the air compressors, Jungkook sighs. He isn't expecting anyone else to be here so early, but he's having trouble sleeping. Pulling down on his sun visor, he's rough as he slides the mirror cover across to study his face.

He's not looking too bad - lip a little split, but alright, all things considered. Could have been a lot worse. Namjoon has a mean left hook, after all.

His thumb presses down on the buckle of his seatbelt, releasing it as he reaches over for his duffle bag in the footwell of his passenger seat. There's a clink as he does so, half a dozen bottles of soju ready to be transferred into the fridge by the entrance to the locker room. It's a free for all, used by all the members of the boxing club, but no one ever knows who actually stocks it up. It just kind of... replenishes. Like Christmas presents, or coins under pillows in place of lost teeth.

Admittedly, Jungkook never used to know, either. He still doesn't know who stocks up the waters. He knows who stocks the soju, though. Or at least, he's known for the last few weeks, now.

Where else is he gonna put all the bottles he buys from your store? It's not like he ever drinks them. He just needs an excuse to visit so frequently.

"You're early," a voice says from the back entrance, as Jungkook is shuffling around with the bottles. The fridge light hums, illuminating his face, as he lets his perfectionism take priority when arranging the bottles. He doesn't turn to look, knowing the tone by heart.

"So are you, Minnie."

Minnie by name, mini by nature, Park Jimin is a 5'7 (though he swears blind he's 5'9 with shoes on) force to be reckoned with. He likes to get to the club early, before his shifts at the fishmongers. It gets his blood pumping, ready for a day of hacking away at marine carcases.

"I'm always early," he teases, as he tosses his bag on an old wicker chair in the corner of the room.

It's a large space - a disused rice store that was repurposed in the 80's, and taken over by Old Man Kang after the last owner gambled it away during a back alley game of poker. A large square ring is in the middle, red ropes a little tatty, but still usable. There are a few machines dotted around the corners of the room, but most people opt to use the plethora of punching bags hung up by the far wall.

Jungkook smiles softly as he begins to wrap his hands up. He's dressed down in just a black t-shirt and a pair of grey sweats. They're tapered towards his ankles, where they meet his beat-up black high tops. His laces are pulled tight, wrapped around the classic star logo, and tied in hasty bows on the back of his ankles. Double knotted, as always. "Couldn't sleep."

For how much of a liar he is, Jungkook is always honest with Jimin.

Well. Nearly always.

Jimin heads for the far corner, where a skipping rope is strung up on a rusty nail embedded into the wall. He nods, figuring as much. "Joon isn't happy."

Jungkook rolls his eyes as he stretches out his back. He couldn't give a fuck if Namjoon is happy or not, especially not after-

"You should talk to him."

Squaring up to the coffee-brown punching bag, Jungkook knocks his head to the side. His jaw clenches as he gently presses against the leather to get a feel for the weight. He bounces, left, right, and then throws a punch. The smack of his hand against the weighted bag echoes into the room.

"Or not," Jimin adds, sensing that Jungkook is in no mood to talk to anyone - and definitely not Namjoon.

Unsolicited advice is never received well by Jungkook. If he wants it, he'll ask for it. Jimin knows this.

There's an art to the way his body moves, recoiling a little with every punch thrown until he disciplines himself. Back broad and triangular, calves strong and tense, it's clear to see that Jungkook can defend his own. If he had wanted to fight back against Namjoon, he could have.

But Jungkook is a man of honour. Integrity. Respect. He'd never fight against Namjoon, no matter how much he disagreed with him - so instead, he takes it out on a punching bag that is so old it may as well be an antique. The echo of his assault against the leather rings in his ears like a warning bell. A siren. A chime.

It's funny, 'cause a few roads over - just past the bridge and down the lane - there's a ringing in your ears too.

For you, it actually is a chime - the one of the gas station door, and it's a scathing reminder of how badly you fucked up by asking Yoongi to cover your shift.

You spend your morning lamenting, hypothesising. You're so busy thinking about the stupid boy who drives that god-awful red car, that you don't even bother making assumptions about other customers.

They're all about him. Where he was, who he was with. Why he did what he did.

You decide that he grew up in a single-parent household. He's already mentioned his late mother, and suggested that she influenced his need to apologise, so a father figure didn't really seem to fit the profile you have of him.

He wears so much black because he's scared of having an actual personality. Scared that it makes him vulnerable. Or so you assume. In fact, you decide that 'scared' is the best way to describe him.

A scaredy-cat. A chicken. A pussy. No balls.

After all, he was too scared to show up, and didn't even have the bottle to find a way to let you know. Did he have your number? No - but perhaps that was deliberate on his part, too.

Your final assessment of his character comes in the form of his FWB (turned far-too-clingy lover). If she's real, which again, you've decided she is, then you don't think it's her fault that she's developed an unhealthy dependency on him. He seems to be the type to lift others up, only to drag them back down with him.

Enough thoughts about him, though.

If you're not worthy of his time, then why should he be worthy of yours?

The next few days are spent in a subliminal haze; body moving, mind still. It's Wednesday before you know it.

Jieun is on shift with you, after she complained about not wanting to work alone following the raid. You told her that no one would be stupid enough to rush the place again so soon after the first time, but she's having none of it.

"We don't get paid enough to put our lives at risk," she states whenever the topic of conversation is mentioned. And she's right - you don't.

But as you look at the grainy CCTV footage still-image that's taped up above the counter, you can't help but think they wouldn't have actually killed either you or Jieun. Realistically, they barely left a scratch on Yoongi. Physically, at least. Mentally, he's a little more wounded.

There had been three of them; two rather tall, the third shorter. About Yoongi's height, you guess. Dressed in all black, it's hard to really distinguish any features or their bodies, let alone their faces, which had been covered in ski masks. Run of the mill robbers. The kind you see in crappy action films. Background characters. Just a way to move the plot along, no real personalities, no actual significance to the lives of the protagonists, other than causing a mild inconvenience.

You don't even realise when you're making assumptions, these days. You think in hypothesis more often than not.

The thieves had run off on foot and down the back alley behind the shop, which is where the trail to find them ends. The CCTV for the alley has been out for months. The boss didn't deem it a necessary investment - "Well, we'd never been robbed before!" - so it had fallen to the bottom of his priority list. The issue with the back alley is that it leads to an underpass with so many blind spots that it's easy - almost too easy - to slip into nothingness.

It's when you're staring at them, thinking about the assumptions you could make for your mystery men of misdemeanours, that the door chimes.

You don't ignore it, anymore. The raid has spooked you. So you look towards it, and are met with the sight a broad back. The shoulders, strong and well-defined, are covered in a brown flannel shirt. It's tucked into a pair of jeans, that cling to the contours of the customer's legs. He's not wearing a coat - just hopped out of his car, where the aircon is keeping him toasty - and you realise you recognise his posture.

The mop of bleached hair is pretty damn recognisable, too.

"Jieun," you hiss quietly, drawing her attention from the stock she's counting in front of the kiosk. She glances towards you, eyes startled by your tone. You beckon your head back, and she scurries over to you.

"Can you man the till?"

She looks confused for a second. "Why?"

"Girl issues," you lie, knowing she won't be able to say no. "Just came on my period. Need to, yanno-"

"Go, go, go," she nods, hurrying behind the counter, ushering you away and towards the staff room door.

As you leave, you glance to the curved mirror in the far corner; the one that only you look in. It's your second pair of eyes - but you find another pair staring back at you. It's brief, and his gaze drops as soon as he sees you focus on him, blonde hair covering his dark eyes from your view. He's looking at the gimbap again, now. Pretending like he never saw you.

Good, you think. Fuck off.

It's been three days since he stood you up; three days since you jeopardised one of your best friends lives to see him, only for him to be M.I.A. You don't know the kid, not really. Why waste any more of your time on him?

You stay in the bathroom for upwards of five minutes. Just enough time for him to leave. Jieun must be wondering what you're doing, but you'll just explain it away.

You're quite good at that. Lying. Just little ones, white lies. Porkies. Fibs. Never anything that will harm another person, just things that will protect you instead.

"Who's the blonde dude?" Jieun asks when you return. You furrow your brows and play dumb. "The one with the brow piercing," she adds, as if you need any clarification. Blonde dudes aren't really the norm around these parts. He sticks out like a sore fucking thumb. "Tattoos."

"Dunno," you say with a smile. It's the same one that laces all of your little lies.

For once, Jieun looks at you, her thick brows hard and poised, as if she knows you're lying.

And then she nods towards the counter, where a peach tea and a cup of ice sits. "Left this for you."

"Hmm," you purr. "Must think I'm someone I'm not."

Yeah, you think scornfully. Must think I'm an idiot.

It worked as an apology once before - but it's a pattern of behaviour, now. He's a leopard, spots unchanged as he runs away from the consequences of his actions, suffocating you in the dust clouds he leaves behind.

"He's cute," Jieun muses.

"No," you smile. It's the same one. That little one full of lies. "He's not."

────────────

The peach tea sits on the counter by the till for two days. It's tucked behind a box of pocket money candies, which are waiting to be restocked; hidden in such a way so that only you know it's there.

Y'see, you've been making assumptions again - though you wouldn't really call this one an assumption. It's acceptance of a habit that's been proven: he will return.

He always does, it seems.

And sure enough, that afternoon, two days after you'd last been graced with his presence, he returns.

Jieun spots him first, eyes darting immediately towards yours. You're like a deer in headlights, ready to bolt - but she doesn't let you.

"Gotta go," she squeaks, before mouthing 'girl issues' to you, with a smile she reserves moments like these; her little victories.

He does his usual rounds, and you're already mentally ringing it up: a bottle of soju, and a tuna gimbap roll. You glance out to the forecourt, towards pump six - but it's empty. Not a single car in sight, let alone his trusty red pony. You're confused. Brows furrowed, nostrils a little flared. Lips pouty. You big baby.

When he eventually comes to the kiosk, it takes all of your strength not to ask, 'why the fuck are you here?'

And just like all of your assumptions about him, you're wrong. Again.

No soju, no gimbap. Banana milk and bibimyun ramyeon, instead. A great combination by all accounts, but you're not gonna give him the satisfaction of letting him know you think his choice is elite.

As far as you're concerned, he can take his banana milk and shove it up his ass.

Frustratingly, he appears to find amusement in your outward expression of annoyance. There seems to be a small grin on his face, cheeks appled beneath his mask, as if he's not aware that it's painfully awkward between the pair of you.

He has no manners, you decide. No spine. No awareness of social cues, either. A triple whammy. What a catch.

But you believe that silence is a virtue, so you say nothing as you ring up his items. You don't even tell him his total - just nod towards the card machine. He follows your line of sight, watching the machine light up for a moment, before putting his card in the slot.

While he does so, you reach for the peach tea and add it to his stockpile.

"You forgot your drink again."

He looks at the pouch of tea, then up towards you. And then he repeats it, several times.

"Ouch," he says, ending his declaration of pain with a small laugh. You've got half a mind to rip the pouch open and pour it all over his shitty flannel shirt. It's blue today, paired with sweats, because apparently that's fashionable?

Boy looks like he got dressed in the dark, you think scornfully - but really, you're just annoyed with how hot you think he looks. Unreasonably hot. He's the bloody Sahara storming through Daegu's coldest winter. He's melting the river, leaving everyone wet in the process.

Or maybe not. Maybe just you-

"What's the grin for?" he teases, and you realise that you've been paying too much attention to your thoughts.

"No grin," you snap, face flushed.

"Service with a smile, as always."

"Your transaction is done," you say, this time smiling as if butter wouldn't melt. "You can leave, now."

He holds up his pot of ramyeon and shrugs, before glancing over to the food station, where the hot water and microwaves are waiting for him. "Actually, I think I'm just gonna eat here."

Without even so much as a glance back towards you, the asshole picks up a pair of chopsticks, wrapped in thin paper, and heads towards the food station. You're in a state of disbelief. Entitled prick.

Jieun returns almost as soon as he's left the counter. She still doesn't have a clue about whatever's happened between the pair of you, but she did see you hiding up the peach tea a couple of days ago, so she figured it was something.

"You gonna take it to him?" she asks, nodding down towards the tea, which he's left at the counter, again.

"No."

"Take him the tea."

"No."

"Take it."

"No.

"Fine," she huffs. "If you don't, I will-"

"Fine!" you whisper, though it's definitely a shout. You might not want anything to do with him, but you also don't want to watch him work his charms on Jieun. For her benefit. Not yours. Definitely not because you don't want to see him flirting with her instead.

Him, with his stupid tattoos, and dumb blonde hair, and annoying smile and-

"Go," she grins.

"Just... give me a minute."

You watch as he fills up his ramyeon bowl, hot air steaming around the jet of water. It's been a while since you ate, and you're a little jealous. Your break isn't for another few hours yet, though, so smelling his food throughout the store will be torture. Asshole.

He sits down, and Jieun pesters you a little more, but you're trying to wait it out. If a customer comes in, then you can just deal with them instead - but the forecourt is empty, just like it always is at this awkward time of day. After lunch, but before the end of school. This is the real ghost shift of a gas station - after midnight is when it comes alive.

Admittedly, it was a little too lively the night of the raid. You make a mental note to text Yoongi on your break, just to check-in, and then you glare at Jieun and her shit-eating grin, before heading towards gimbap-less Mr Gimbap.

Tossing the bag down onto the cheap plastic table, you're indifferent as you speak. "Like I said. This is yours."

"Is it?" he asks, unpierced brow raised. "Doesn't look like mine."

"Well, it is," you say, clearly fed up with him. "And just while we're talking - where's your car?"

His eyes narrow ever so briefly. Almost like he knows you're onto him. For what? No clue. But something.

"Taillights out. Just needs a repair."

You nod. Seems plausible. At least he sticks to the highway code - even if he does break it after the clock strikes twelve every other weekend.

You're not quite sure what to make of him as he looks at you, eyes only lingering for long enough to let you know that there's something he's not telling you.

The air quality isn't bad today. There's no need for him to be wearing a mask, but he's hiding. From you? From something else? You can't work him out.

Perhaps it's shame.

After all, this is a boy who came and apologised to you for being a little bit mean in the heat of the moment. Being deliberately cruel doesn't really seem like his motive, no matter how cold his demeanour is.

And so, instead of just letting your assumptions fester, you voice them.

"You're hiding something."

You're met with silence.

"Behind that mask," you clarify, before repeating yourself. "You're hiding something."

He looks at you for a moment, before dropping your gaze, and glancing towards the door.

Thinking about making a run for it, you lament internally - but he's not. He just doesn't like how sometimes - just sometimes - your assumptions are entirely correct.

He lifts his ringed index finger to his ear, unhooking the thin black elastic that keeps his mask in place, before letting it fall. His skin is clammy beneath it from the heat of his breath, and the chill of the winter breeze outside, but your eyes fall to his bottom lip.

It's split, the centre crease darker than the soft pink flesh around it. There's a bruise beneath it, still tender and sore. You don't mean to, but you gasp at the sight of it. It's no worse than Yoongi's graze, the placement makes it so much more bothersome.

Uncomfortable with the way you're looking at him - like you feel sorry for him - he hooks his mask back up again.

"Happy now?" he asks, knowing that you just love to be proven right.

You scoff, a little offended. "Obviously not. What happened?" You take the seat opposite his. "Are you okay?"

"Nothing happened," he lies, avoiding your eyes as he does so. It's funny how you haven't noticed that little trait of his yet. You will. Just not yet. "I'm fine."

"You're quite clearly not fine."

"Quite clearly am," he bickers, before nodding to the food on the table. "Just hungry."

Ouch. You're just trying to make sure he's okay, but if he wants to be hostile again, then fine. No skin off your back.

You nod, looking away. It's awkward, and when the bell chimes to indicate another customer entering the shop, you find your stomach lurching.

Still, he toys with the softening noodles in their pot, as if they're the most fascinating things in the world.

This isn't how he wanted this conversation to go. Hell, he doesn't even know what the outcome should be. He's just feeling uneasy, as if he's making all the wrong choices.

"I heard about the raid."

You nod. It's been on all the local radio stations. Thankfully Yoongi is the only employee being name-checked. You aren't ready to give up your own personal paradise just yet, which is exactly what will happen the second your family gets notice of where you're spending your days.

"Yeah, me too," you deadpan. It's a fault of yours, giving back the same energy you receive, unable to just suck things up and be nice all the time.

Thankfully, he smiles. You kind of expected that he would. He seems to get you, get your humour. It's something you both share, like a little secret. A smile rests on his lips as he glances up towards you, like he's a school kid trying not to giggle in class.

And then you find yourself making assumptions again. You wonder what he would have been like in school, if he would have been just as charming. You bet that he was the kind of kid who could get away with murder in class. All he'd have to do was flash those of eyes of his, and he'd be off the hook.

Sort of like how he does with you. Why else would you be giving him the time of day after he stood you up?

"Oh really?" He entertains your attitude."What did you hear?"

You lean against the table, a little bit provocative, but only 'cause his tone of voice matched it. "Heard that I'm lucky some prick asked me out, even if he did leave me waiting for hours in the dark."

His smile falters a little, but only for a fraction of a second. He likes the flirt; doesn't like the acknowledgement of what he did. "Hours?"

"Nah," you scrunch your nose up, and sit up straight again. You're still smiling, to let him know that you're feeling fine about it, now. "Didn't stick around for that long. What?" You laugh when he raises a brow, and begin to tell white lies. He'll see through them, but you want him to. "You think I don't have other eligible bachelors lining up, trying to take me on dates?"

He shrugs, and you can tell that he's pouting a little behind his mask. "I'm still the one you skived off work for, am I not?"

"That's neither here nor there."

"Yeah, it is," he speaks softly, leaning forward on the table. Closer. "What time do you clock off today? I wanna talk. Properly."

"Are we not talking properly now?" You say, unable to resist being difficult. It takes everything within his power not to roll those pretty eyes of his - but you're grinning, and he finds himself doing the same back. His mouth may be covered by his mask, but you can still tell.

He thinks about his response for a moment. If he's being honest, he wants to make some crude remark; tell you that he wants to get you talking just so he can think of ways to shut you up. You're not at that level yet, though. Coming on strong is unfavoured by him, so he opts for something a little cooler.

"We're talking about talking," he reminds you, picking up the pot up and leaning over to the sink by the food station to drain the excess water. "I wanna talk about... well, anything else."

You purse your lips, folding your arms across your chest. There's part of you that really wants to say no, to tell him to go fuck himself. But there's a teeny tiny part of you that wants to say-

"Nine. I'm off at nine."

"Nine," he nods. "I'll be here."

"Sure you will," you tease.

"I will."

"Yeah, yeah. Course. You're really good at that." You're nodding enthusiastically, a stupid smile on your face, eyes all wide as if you couldn't be more naive. You can tell he's smiling again, and it's like that door chime in your stomach is bloody broken. "Yanno, the whole showing up when you say you will, thing."

"Shut up," he laughs, but it catches in his throat like a low growl. "I'll be here, but not if you keep being a little bitch."

Your teeth cushion themselves on your bottom lip, and you nod. "See you at nine... Kook?" You question, realising that you're yet to actually ask his name.

"Jungkook. But Kook works, too. Just depends on how well acquainted you're planning on getting."

He doesn't give you a chance to reply, simply standing as he pushes the pot of noodles over to you. "Eat up. You look hungry."

Turning on his heel, he heads for the door.

The bell chimes, and it's like it's harmonising with the feeling in your stomach.

You prod around at the noodles, and sigh, posture defeated. This is not good.

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The rest of your shift trudges on. It's slow, the hands of the clock seemingly frozen - until, suddenly, it's nine.

"You're late," Jungkook greets you, perched on a bollard by the side of the forecourt. He's wearing a coat, now, wrapped up a little warmer than he had been earlier. His sweats have been traded for jeans, but he's still in that big blue flannel shirt. You like it.

And he's not wrong - cashing up your till took a little longer than normal, thanks to an old note that wouldn't read properly in the sorter. Just another thing your boss refuses to upgrade.

"At least I'm here," you quip back.

"Touché." He holds out his arm, almost as if he expects you to link yours with his. "Shall we?"

You look at his arm, then up towards him. And then you repeat it, letting out a soft laugh, not accepting his arm, instead turning to walk in the direction of home. "C'mon," you call back. "You walking me home or not?"

It's his turn to laugh now as he ups his pace to catch up with you. "Not."

"Not?"

"Not," he repeats, seemingly unable to say anything else - until, of course, he does. "My cars around the corner. Wanna go for a drive?"

"Sorted the taillight?" You ask, curious, figuring that it would have been at Kang's overnight.

Jungkook hums a response, not really saying yes or no, but as you turn the corner and it comes into vision, you can see that his taillights seem fine - not that you can really judge. A car as old as his doesn't come with central locking systems, so it's not like you'll see the lights flash as it-

Oh. Nevermind.

There's a beep, and the car flashes in front of you, mocking those damn assumptions of yours.

"Since when do Pony's have electric locks?" You ask defensively, almost as a reflex for having your assumptions disproven.

"Since I decided to install them," he says, as if it's the simplest job in the world. You've heard Yoongi mutter 'bastard locks' enough times to know otherwise.

"Kang's must make a killing from you," you joke as he nods towards the passenger side, indicating for you to get in.

"Kang's don't make shit from me when it comes to the wires."

You wait for him to pop his door open before you do the same. The interior is leather, all black, and is cold to the touch as you get in. The windscreen begins to fog almost instantly, the minimal heat you're letting off proving just how cold it's been getting lately.

It's curious, you think. There should be a little heat left in the car from his drive to meet you.

"No?" you question, choosing to ignore the temperature of the car. It's below zero, you rationalise. Of course it cooled quickly.

"No," he shakes his head, turning the key in the ignition.

The car rumbles - purrs - softly. You can tell he's listening to the engine, making sure that it sounds okay before he sets off. Standard old car problems. Running gas through the motor before it warms up only causes issues.

Like his locking system, you notice that the stereo isn't exactly true to the era in which the car was built (even if the lack of insulation is). It's got an aux cord hanging from the headphone jack, which he picks up and places in your lap. "Don't put anything shit on."

He avoids clarifying your question, and it annoys you - so you choose to be direct about it, not plugging your phone in at all. If he doesn't want to listen to shit music, he should be a more specific.

You're stewing, clearly irritated, but you're also casually enamoured, watching him as he carefully observes the dashboard, checking the revs, trying to heat the car up a little.

"Just the electrics? What about everything else?"

He doesn't look your way as he replies. "Just the electrics. Put your seatbelt on."

"Why?"

He's still not looking at you. "'Cause if I crash, you'll go straight through the windshield."

"Not the seatbelt," you reply, though he's got a point. You haven't clicked it into its buckle yet. Nor has he, though. "The electrics."

Still. Not. Looking. At. You.

It's not even like it's an important question. You couldn't give a flying fuck about his shitty car's electrics. You just don't like that he's deliberately avoiding answering something so simple, as if you're asking him how old he was when he lost his virginity.

Eventually, he cracks. It's as he's sliding his seatbelt down, the smooth noise of fabric scruffing against plastic filling the car. He's bargaining - hopes that if he does his belt up, then you will too.

Then again, he knows that you're difficult, and that you'll probably use it as a bargaining tool. You won't do it up until he gives you an answer.

"Electrician by trade," he says with a little sigh, before turning to face you finally. "Happy?"

You don't want to say yes - but you are. You're smug in the knowledge that you know just as much about him now as he does you.

"By trade?" You push a little further as your buckle clicks into place.

"By trade," he answers, in that annoying way he so often does, not really giving you an answer, just confirming what you already know. "I'm in between jobs at the moment."

"Ah," you smile, finally putting the aux into your phone. The windows are beginning to clear. "That explains why you're always in the garage at such weird hours."

It doesn't. There's an entirely different explanation for that. Not one that he'll give, though.

He hums a response, not wanting to tell more lies. He knocks the car into first, and lets the handbrake down, easing the car into motion as it rolls gently from the curb and into the road.

It's at this point you realise you're in the car with a near-stranger, and that it's probably the dumbest thing you've done in a while. You're smarter than this. Been raised better.

Jungkook smiles at your statement, though. "You ever stop making assumptions?"

A laugh falters in the back of your throat. "No," you muse. "I don't think I do."

His palm rests on the gear stick, thigh pressing down against his seat as he dips the clutch. There's a simple joy to be found in watching his movements like this, as if you're getting to see something reserved for very few people. He's smiling as he knocks it into second gear. Smiles a lot around you, actually.

Perhaps he's just like this all the time. Naturally light natured, despite the dark clothes and even darker eyes.

"Tell me mine," he says as the car moves from the slightly beat up side road, towards the main street that leads up to the bridge. There's a change in pressure beneath the tyres, the new road far smoother, far easier, than the one you'd been on previously. "Your assumptions. I wanna hear them."

"I can't," you reply, as if they're some closely guarded secret. In a way, they are. You've built up this idea of Jungkook; of who he is, who he associates with, what he does in the dark.

If he confirms or denies a single one of these assumptions, then it could all be in tatters.

"Can't? Or don't want to?"

You watch his hands as he flicks on an indicator. There's no one else on the road. Seems redundant. It's interesting, though, how he seems to care about the rules of the road now that you're in the passenger seat.

"Why can't it be both?"

And just like that, you're going round in circles again. Always talking, but never quite saying anything. It's a strange little dance you like to do, one that you don't know the steps to, but seem to get right anyway.

He uses the palm of his hand to turn the wheel, back on the bridge now. It's less icy today, but you find your heart resting in your chest just like it did the first time you were here with him. He glances over to you, but you keep your eyes straight ahead.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "About that time. When we were here, yanno?"

You nod. It's a weird thing to think about. You could have died. Came pretty fucking close to it - and yet all that really lingers in your mind from that night is the way he stared you down.

"Mhmm," you press your lips together, and cross your legs.

He doesn't like it. The way your body sort of angles away from his. It's cold. Cruel, almost.

So he lifts his hand from the gear stick and taps your knee. A request, not a demand. He's gentle as he nudges, encouraging your legs to unhook, until they're back in their original position. You just kind of let him. Neither of you say anything, but there's an awareness that he doesn't want you to close off from him.

Your arms move instead, without much thought, crossing over themselves.

"Don't."

The silence is so loud you think the windows might shatter.

"Please," he follows it up, then decides that he needs something to fill the void that you're leaving in the conversation. "Put some music on," he says, before backtracking on his earlier statement. "I don't mind if it's shit."

It earns a small smile from you, an exhale from your nose letting him know that you find humour in his words.

You unlock your phone and head to spotify, confronted with more playlists than you know what to do with, and settle on the one you use when Yoongi lets you control the music in his car. It's pretty inoffensive, you think. Nothing too shit. No noughties classics, at least, though there are a couple from the 80's. If he complains, you'll just remind him of how old his car is.

"So what's the deal?"

The fact you only start talking as he exits the bridge isn't lost on Jungkook.

"No deal," he replies just as casually as you asked.

"Well you aren't taking me home," you muse, glancing over to him. There's a smile on his face. Dimples present. "And I'm hoping that you're not chauffeuring me to a date with the Grim Reaper - so where are we going?"

"We-" He turns to face you, now. Just briefly. Just a glance with a smile that has a chime sounding in your tummy again. "-are heading into town. I don't think the Grim Reaper's gonna be there, but you never know with that dude. Always showing up at the worst of times."

"Mm," you agree with a small laugh. "His social skills are atrocious."

"You give him a run for his money, yanno," Jungkook teases you.

It's reflex, more than anything, that has you swatting at his shoulder. The fabric of his shirt is soft, and there's a waft of his aftershave as you draw your hand back to your lap. Oaky. Mature. Probably more than he seems to be.

"My social skills are fine. You're just shitty company."

"Me?!" He sounds affronted now, but there's a grin plastered all over his pretty little face. "Sorry, little miss clutch control. Forgot you were queen of making casual conversation."

"Uh-huh," you say as you shift in your seat, body angled towards his. The smile on his face grows. There's one on yours too. A pretty fuckin' big one, at that. "That's why they hired me. Could see I'd be great with the customers."

He snorts, crown of his head tipping against the back of his seat. "Oh, yeah?"

You hum an affirmation, and Jungkook looks towards you briefly, chin lifted, eyes narrow, curious of what you'll say next.

"Well, I seem to have done alright with one of the customers, at least."

His teeth begin to show as he looks towards the road again. "Poor fucker. I'd hate to be him."

And then you're both laughing.

It's how it remains for the rest of the evening.

You're laughing when he parks in the furthest corner of the lot, just to make sure no one scrapes his paintwork. You're laughing when he can't figure out the QR code for the automatic parking fee, and you're laughing when he tells you to fuck off for laughing.

But he's laughing too.

Laughs when you can't figure out the apron in the dakgalbi place off the side of the main shopping street, and laughs when the middle-aged lady running the shop comes to help you out. Jungkook had refused. He was enjoying the struggle too much.

See, your cheeks go all red when you get flustered. He's never seen that look on you before. You get a similar look once you realise the spice of the galbi is a little hotter than what you're used to, and you get it again after you've had a few shots of soju.

He matches you, shot for shot, but also makes sure to keep filling up your stainless steel water cup. In fact, he fills it more than he fills his own.

Unlike you, and your perceived ability to judge characters, Jungkook actually can read people pretty well. He knows his limits, and he's guessing at yours, but doing a good job doing so.

It's not until Jungkook's paying that you realise just how many bottles the pair of you have gotten through. You're steady on your feet, but you can feel the alcohol in your system, and know that he must be the same.

"How we getting home?" You ask, as the chime of the door rings behind you. Within seconds you're pulling your arms over your chest, trying to preserve heat. You fucking hate January.

"C'mon," he mumbles, looping his arm around your shoulders, rubbing at the side of it quickly to build up some heat. He's all hunched up too, clearly feeling the cold. "Taxi? I can pick my car up in the morning."

It's gone twelve on a week night. You both know there's no way in hell you'll be able to score a taxi, not without a 45 minute wait, at least. The curse of downtown Daegu. Should have just gone to eat in your neighbourhood, but Jungkook felt like he had a point to prove. He wanted to make it up to you. Properly.

You drop Yoongi a text as you load up your taxi app, just checking in, letting him know that you're all good. He replies pretty much instantly, but you're distracted by Jungkook letting you know that his app says no cabs are available.

"Shit," you hiss, bouncing around on the balls of your feet, trying to keep warm.

Jungkook weighs up his options. On the one hand, he knows he needs to get you home. On the other, you're hopping around like a fucking bunny. It's borderline cruel to keep you out in the cold like this. Especially when his place is only a ten minute walk away, in the heart of town, compared to your hour long trek back to the outskirts.

"My place isn't too far."

The suggestion is out of his mouth before he knows any better. He's getting himself in too deep already. All it's taken is a couple weeks of awkward flirting across a gas station kiosk and exactly one (1) shared dakgalbi. Maybe the 6 bottles of soju didn't help.

"You can wait it out in the warm for a taxi, at least," he adds on, before realising that you're both as tipsy as one another. Both hovering a little too close to one another. Both feeling that weird pull, of which he's telling himself to ignore, but he just can't seem to help himself.

He's a simple man, of simple pleasures - and sex is the most simple of them all.

If he wants it, then you probably do, too.

Might do, he corrects himself. Best not to make assumptions about things like these.

"Wait it out," you nod, a little grin resting on your lips. They're a little plumper than normal, partially thanks to the galbi spice, but also thanks to the you've been biting down on them all evening. It's okay, though. Jungkook's lips are just as bad. All plump and pretty and - fuck. You know you're staring but it's kind of hard not to.

He knocks his head to the side and holds out his hand for you to take. "C'mon. I'm this way."

And so you do take it. Fingers neatly linking between his, hooking on and holding close as if it isn't the first time that it's happening. It's been so long since you did this with another person that you're almost not sure you're doing it right. His grip adjusts, and then his other hand reaches behind your shoulders to prop the hood of your jacket over your hair.

"For the wind," he says.

Definitely not so that the pair of you are a little more incognito.

It's why he puts his hood up, too... For the wind.

After all, he's not hiding behind his mask like he was earlier. Not hiding from you.

But he's hiding from something.

And you should be, too.

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minors dni // posted to wp late 2021 // series masterlist