#this scene would not get out of my head bc why does he suddenly show a little bit of sass. sir you are being questioned for murder

[kind-of-a-shitty-wizard]

Inspector Palmu's Mistake | 1960

#hi sorry minor obsession incoming. oops #this movie was really good that is all #listen. i just love how he spends the whole movie getting pushed around he can NOT catch a break #this scene would not get out of my head bc why does he suddenly show a little bit of sass. sir you are being questioned for murder #quote from my friend: 'his eye bags are an entire other character' #inspector palmu's mistake

[intrepidacious]

almost believing

summary: You and Bucky aren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment. That doesn't mean you're getting out of having to pretend to be married for a mission.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 5.4k

warnings: miscommunication dialled up to eleven bc it's me; friends to lovers with lots of seething in between; set around christmas, but not a christmas fic; slight spoiler warning for wakanda forever just to be safe

please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

prompt: fake dating, baby 😌 title and initial inspiration for this fic were taken from "so close" from enchanted. yes. that scene.

a/n: this was written for my wonderful tiff's sweet as sugar writing challenge!! @traitorjoelite i'm so proud of you and i hope you enjoy this fic. i really thought this one would be short i swear. big shoutout and thank you to @sweetascanbee for listening to me rant about this for weeks, i appreciate you so much!!

masterlist | read on ao3

Here’s the thing: It’s supposed to be a simple mission. Just gathering intel at the hotel for one single night, the two of you pretending that everything is fine for a couple of hours more.

After all, it’s Bucky’s last mission with you before his reassignment goes through.

Well, it’s not like it’s going to make a difference to how much you’re seeing him, to be honest.

You’re not sure when he started making himself rare or why, but once you noticed it, it was impossible not to.

"Sorry, I’m heading out," when you ask him to grab lunch together seems inconspicuous enough, as does, "Ah, I’m already supposed to meet Sam," when you try asking him about that trip to IKEA you’d been talking about for ages.

But it doesn’t stop there. One excuse follows the next, and suddenly there’s always something more important than the two of you hanging out.

Of course, you try to rationalize it at first. Swallow down your hurt feelings, because Bucky is your friend, and sometimes people just need space. You’re fine. The two of you are fine.

Once he starts scheduling dates for Friday night, though—which has always been movie night, always, every week since you met him—you know that something’s wrong.

"Is he angry with me?" you keep asking Steve, who looks very uncomfortable and definitely knows what's going on.

"Just give him a little space," he suggests timidly. So you do. You let the whole thing go.

For like a week.

"I just don’t know what I did," you tell Sam over drinks, your head held in your hands.

"Nope," he answers, downing his dregs. "I’m not doing this. Nuh-uh."

"You know, too?" you cry, accusingly pointing at him.

"I don’t know anything," Sam deadpans. And then he puts his scarf on and leaves.

"Maybe try talking to Bucky about it?" Natasha suggests, either incapable of hiding her amused smile or unwilling to try.

"I would if I ever saw him for longer than a 'hi, how are you' at the gym," you mumble. Fact is, you’re getting pissed about him giving you the silent treatment without even knowing what you did wrong.

Because before this, whatever this is, things were fine. Great, even. Free afternoons were spent on each other’s couches, introducing him to your favorite tv shows and letting him teach you that stupid card game he loves so damn much. You’d even been starting to imagine that there might be something …

Clearly, you were wrong.

Now, you can’t even look at him without your throat closing up. It’s like you woke up a few weeks ago and he’s become an entirely different person around you, much more like he was at the beginning of your friendship, distant and cold.

He didn’t even tell you that he’d signed up for a transfer.

The mission call feels like your last chance.

A whole evening of teamwork and espionage, of him basically having no other choice than talking to you and finally telling you why the fuck he would get himself reassigned without even telling you beforehand. You could’ve hugged Fury for the opportunity.

That is, until you’re handed the file containing your fake identities for the op a few hours before you’re supposed to leave.

"You’re joking," you say as soon as you open the door.

"Great, you’re here as well," Steve says dryly. "Again, a) you both gotta learn how to knock, b) the whole thing wasn’t my idea or my decision, but I also think it’s the best directive for what you’re trying to do, and c) no, there’s no one else available for the mission. Anything I missed?"

Bucky deliberately doesn’t meet your eye, his arms still crossed as he stares Steve down with a look you can’t decipher. He doesn’t even acknowledge you standing in the door, but his foot is doing the tapping thing again.

You purse your lips and join the staring.

Steve sighs, rubbing his temples with the palms of his hands. "Listen, you two work well together and I know these past few weeks have been … strained"—you almost laugh at that—"but it’s just one night."

"We need to pretend we’re married," you say. "How’re we going to pull that off if he can’t stand being in the same room as me?"

"I trust that there won’t be any issues." Steve raises an eyebrow at Bucky as he says that, but of course he doesn’t get a reply. That would necessitate talking in your presence.

"One night," Bucky repeats through gritted teeth.

Not for the first time, there seems to be some sort of silent conversation between the two of them that you’re not privy to. You roll your eyes.

"I’ll see you later."

You leave with your back straight and without a glance over your shoulder, the door slamming shut behind you.

For a moment, you’re tempted to barge into Natasha’s office next, but you have a feeling like she’d just give you another one of her looks again, which really won’t better your mood. So instead, you slam another door and flop onto your bed, blankly staring at the ceiling for a while.

Surely, there’s some twisted sort of irony in this whole situation, but you’re not laughing.

Usually, before a mission, you’d get bagels together from the bakery around the corner. You haven’t done that in a while, but you’re still quietly begging your phone to show a new unread message when you look at the time however long later.

Instead, there’s just your lockscreen picture of Bucky’s grinning face that you can’t bear to get rid off, no matter how many times it stings you. It’s almost a year old, now, back when you’d taken him to go do your holiday shopping with you, insisting that "no one’s gonna recognize you, look at that great cap you’re wearing".

It’d started snowing halfway through the afternoon, and he’d kept reaching for your hand in order not to lose you in the crowd. You both gave up halfway through your list and just went to get coffee instead, strolling through Central Park and talking about nothing and everything.

That’s when you’d realized you'd been falling in love with him, laughing and fingers freezing around your paper cup, a strange new warmth spreading throughout your body.

You need to change your lockscreen.

***

Half an hour before pick-up, you leave your room with a duffle bag slung over your shoulder and almost run into Bucky. He’s leaning against the opposite wall like he’s been waiting for you, and it stings because that’s what he always used to do, back when you were still talking. When you could still pretend that maybe, just maybe, your feelings weren’t quite so hopeless.

Now, though, his easy smile is missing. Instead, an ever-present frown is furrowing his brows again, his mouth opened just a little, but nothing comes out.

"Look, I don’t want to do this any more than you do," you sigh. "But it’s a two-person job."

He nods, his tongue poking his cheek. "I know."

"Do you think you’re gonna be alright with us pretending we’re madly in love for a whole evening?"

Bucky’s jaw tightens. "I’ll be fine."

Of course he’s going to be fine.

You grab the strap of your bag more tightly. "I wish you would just tell me what I did."

"You didn’t do anything." If he’s telling the truth, though, why does he look so numb?

For a moment, you want to shout at him, cry, beg, make him tell you when and how this went wrong, but you don’t. You just stare at him in silence, hoping he’ll get it anyway, and he refuses to notice it.

"So," Bucky finally says. "You ready to get hitched?"

There’s the ghost of a grin in his eyes, and even though it’s not enough to mask the uncomfortable tilt of his shoulders, you sigh. At least he’s trying, you suppose.

"Let’s just get fake-married so we can fake-divorce and go our separate ways," you say, walking past him.

"I’ve got something for you."

You turn around again, raising your eyebrows as he holds up a ring between the fingers of his left hand. There’s a giant stone set in its center, striking and sparkling and not subtle in the slightest. Tony really went all out for appearance’s sake. Your fingers involuntarily tighten around the strap of your bag.

Bucky drops the ring in the palm of your hand.

"Quite the present," you chuckle nervously. You don’t even want to know how much this thing costs, and you feel like they're going to chop off your head if something happens to it.

"Try it on, then."

It’s a bit too large on your finger, and it feels foreign. It’s not you at all. Then again, it’s not supposed to be you.

Before you can say anything, though, Bucky shakes his head. "What?" you say with a roll of your eyes.

"That couldn’t look more fake if you tried. Wait a sec."

He turns his back towards you and rummages through his bag for a while, his jaw still set as he holds out his hand once more. With a sigh, you pull the ring off again and return it, but before you can pull your hand back, he catches it in his own.

This one slides onto your finger perfectly, and your eyes widen at the sight of it. It’s a lot subtler, with only a small emerald for decoration, but it’s so delicate and beautiful it takes your breath away.

Bucky’s mouth opens and closes, but he swallows whatever came to his mind. "That’s better," he says instead, and his voice sounds oddly rough.

"They gave you a backup?" you say, angling your hand this way and that to see how the gem catches the light.

"Mhm."

Something is off about this whole situation, but then you feel like you don’t really know Bucky anymore. Not like you used to, anyway. It used to be so easy to get a read on him.

You stand there in silence for a moment, and it’s only then that both of you realize he’s still holding your hand. He drops it immediately, and you pretend it doesn’t sting.

"How come you don’t get a ring?" you ask.

"Says who?" Bucky says, clearing his throat and activating the camouflage sleeve Tony had installed for his arm. Sure enough, there’s a ring on his hand as well.

You grab his hand curiously. When you touch it, there’s no difference between his fingers and the pseudo-platinum band, all of it just cool vibranium in disguise.

"It’s fake," you say. "It’s not the same."

"No," he agrees and pulls his hand away. "Looks real enough, though."

You notice the red splotches on his neck and wonder what it is that you’ve said this time, but it’s pointless anyway. He’s not going to tell you even if you asked.

Maybe you should be used to him icing you out by now, but it still hurts.

***

"Yes, Steve, I know," you sigh. "We’re just gathering intel, nothing else."

"I just wanted to have you say it again so we’re all clear. You both love taking risks when it’s not necessary."

"Alright, punk, we got it," Bucky says, tugging at his tie again.

You can’t even blame him for the nervous habit; you’ve been twisting your fake wedding ring around your finger for the entire drive.

This isn’t the first time the two of you had to go undercover as a couple; hell, it’s not even the first time you’ve pretended to be married. Usually, though, you could have a laugh about the whole thing together.

Now you barely know how to act around Bucky as yourself, let alone as some made up woman.

"I think we’re going to attract a lot of attention if we don’t get out soon," you say, readjusting the collar of your blouse underneath your coat.

You notice Steve staring at your hand for a moment, a frown between his brows, but his lips curve upwards a split second later. "Ready to do this?" he asks and you smile a little in confirmation.

Bucky takes another breath and then he nods curtly. "Let’s go."

The change that goes through him as soon as the two of you climb out of the car is so stark you almost turn on your heels again and beg Steve to let you off the hook, after all. His hand sneaks around your waist and pulls you closely into his side as you walk towards the hotel, all soft smiles and charm.

"Sorry for the holdup," he tells the bellman waiting next to your bags with a wink. "The missus and I just needed another minute."

You lightly slap Bucky’s chest in fake indignation. It’s quick thinking on his part, really.

When you’re checking in under your assumed names for the evening, he keeps his arm around you, and the content look stays in his eyes. A subtle glance at your surroundings tells you some of your persons of interest have already arrived early for the event tonight, looking around the sparkling lobby with the same feigned boredom.

Bucky nudges your cheek with his nose and then smiles again when you look at him. It makes your brain shut off for a moment.

When he looks at you like this, it’s so easy to forget the past couple of months and just pretend for a moment. What if there was no mission at all, and it could simply be the two of you?

But of course, that’s not possible. All of it is fake, including the way he looks at you. You know that.

So how come it doesn’t feel fake to you at all?

***

You hate this dress, you hate these people, you hate this dinner, and most of all, you hate how much you enjoy spending this much time so physically close to Bucky.

It feels so natural when he links your hand with yours, so fucking meant to be, even though he’s just putting on a show for the band of creeps you’re tasked to keep an eye on.

But damn if he’s not good at it.

It’s amazing, really, how his eyes immediately soften when you turn your head towards him, like you’re the only person in the whole room. He looks at you during this charade like you wish he’d look at you daily, even far from prying eyes around you; especially then. It makes your breath shorten, your heart pounding erratically because it thinks it’s getting everything it’s ever hoped for.

Hearts are often stupid like that.

A full night of glances and touches and the pretence of secret whispers will do all kinds of twisted things to your feelings.

There’s a lull in the conversation, and when Bucky squeezes your hand you realize he’s no longer the only one who’s looking at you.

You chuckle nervously. "I’m sorry, I got … distracted for a moment. What were you saying?"

"Ah, newlyweds," one of the investor goons laughs. He’s a particularly vile looking man whose suit is way too big on his spindly limbs.

Bucky, academy award winning actor in another lifetime, chuckles politely while the fondness in his eyes seems to increase tenfold. "We’ve been married three years, actually," he says, sticking to your official cover story.

It’d been Tony’s idea to keep your fake timeline as close to the truth as possible to avoid any slip-ups. It’s a great move on paper, really, but in reality it just adds another nail to the coffin.

Three years ago, you were on a mission in Brussels, only the second one ever where it was just the two of you. It was mostly surveillance, so one of you usually had downtime while the other kept lookout. It became customary that you’d entertain each other during those long hours, getting to know each other intimately for the first time, taking the first tentative steps towards the friendship you now share.

That mission was the groundwork of your falling in love with him in the first place.

"You seem to be doing something right if you’re both still so enamoured with each other," Spindly Arms says.

"I’m the luckiest guy in the world," Bucky responds, still looking into your eyes. "It’s hard not to do the right thing, then."

He presses a kiss to your cheek and you smile timidly. His lips linger for just a moment, and then he moves to whisper into your ear, something you’re sure looks like sweet nothings to everybody else but is actually a, "Don’t fall asleep on me."

You tilt your head, shove him teasingly as if he’d said something inappropriate, and because he’s always been quick to catch on he winks, obvious enough so that the other people that are part of this conversation can clearly see it.

It’s not long after this that you excuse yourselves, walking around the room with apparent aimlessness. Everything is sparkling with pure gold decorations and countless little twinkling lights that have been scattered around the room like millions of fireflies. You spot an actual orchestra right underneath the massive Christmas tree.

"Kind of tacky, don’t you think?" Bucky murmurs with a sideway glance at you.

"Maybe a little," you say.

The truth is, though, the room looks oversaturated and expensive and magnificent. Something straight out of a Hallmark movie, more like a movie set than a real place.

It’s the one thing that keeps this whole thing from being completely unbearable.

He must have seen the truth in your eyes, because he ducks his head and says quietly, "I’m gonna go check out the terrace."

You just nod and smile as he kisses your cheek again and then vanishes through the crowd with a few long strides. Sighing, you take another drink from the tray a waiter offers you, absent-mindedly rubbing your cheek.

"What a lovely surprise," a voice says next to you and you freeze for a moment before forcing yourself to calmly take a sip. "Miss … Winter, was it?"

"Mrs," you say with a pleasant smile. "Good evening, Director."

"Right, of course." Director de Fontaine eyes her martini warily. "I don’t suppose these olives are fresh, do you?"

Your mind is racing. If she’s here on official business, then your entire operation might be compromised.

"So," she continues, looking rather bored. "Met any interesting people yet, Mrs Winter?"

"Oh, yes," you say lightly, clinging to your role of unassuming young wife. "It’s all rather exciting."

"I’m sure. These kinds of events are all very … shiny." She looks into your eyes and there’s an almost explicit warning written in hers. "It’s surprisingly easy to get blinded."

You swallow heavily even as she smiles. "If you’ll excuse me, I think I see someone …"

You quickly walk over to the buffet table where some of the wives have formed a semi circle of gossip, trying your best to hide your sigh of relief when the director doesn’t follow you.

For a few minutes, you lose yourself in pointless gossip, until one of the women takes hold of your forearm.

"You must tell us, what’s your secret?"

"Excuse me?" you chuckle nervously.

"Your husband!" she exclaims, earning a few nods from some of the others. "He clearly adores you," she goes on. "I don’t think he’s looked away from you once since you joined us."

You steal a look around your shoulder. She’s right. Bucky’s gaze immediately locks with yours, an almost bashful grin on his lips. You caught me, his eyes seem to say, and you feel a rush of heat go through you.

He should be nominated for an Oscar with this performance.

Quickly, you turn around again to meet several expectant pairs of eyes.

"I don’t know what to tell you," you say. "He’s just … always been like this. I mean, he’s my best friend. I really don’t know what I would do without him."

There’s not a word of a lie in what you’re saying, and it elicits a round of coos and murmurs even as your heart gives a sharp pang.

"Dance with me?"

You flinch, turning to look at Bucky’s outstretched hand, at the sad, hopeful look in his eyes, and the line between reality and fiction blurs a bit more.

You take his hand, and he pulls you onto the dance floor, some cheery Christmas song ramping up to its big finale. Then, the band switches to a slower song. To you, it sounds mournful.

"That was nice," Bucky mutters into your ear. "What you said."

"I meant it, you know," you whisper, but he turns, and you don’t think he’s heard you.

Bucky places his hand on your hip and you hide a shudder. His gloved fingers wrap around yours, and then you start moving again.

You barely know the steps, but he’s a great leader, and he doesn’t say anything when you step on his toes. In fact, his gaze softens even more when he looks at you after the third time, the hand around your waist pulling you a little closer.

"How are you doing this?" you say without stopping to smile.

"Easy," Bucky says, and the way he says it almost makes you believe it’s true.

You bite your lip, trying to stop yourself from breathing him in. "I didn’t mean the dancing."

With the last note of the song, you stumble over his foot again and he snorts. "Me neither."

The melody changes and neither of you lets go. His steps are getting slower, smaller, like he’s just trying to keep both of you in motion. Your head is spinning. The twinkling lights are starting to blur into a great mass of stars in the background, like you’re at the center of a music box and everything else is just background noise.

You wrap both hands around his neck as you’re swaying, then, your foreheads only inches apart. You could stay in this moment forever, you think, as it stretches into blissful infinity. Somewhere, a clock strikes ten.

Bucky leans in a little closer and your breath hitches again.

"It’s time," he whispers, and your eyes fly open.

You’d almost forgotten about the mission.

"Val is here," you say quietly.

His expression hardens for just a second. "What?"

"She came to talk to me earlier. She knows we’re here."

"Why didn’t you say something?"

"I … There wasn’t time."

"We’re just gonna have to be quick and discrete."

You open your mouth, but then you see the distance close in again between you two, and so you just nod.

The plan is almost laughably simple, but it’s probably going to work out just as you’ve laid out beforehand. Everyone in the room has watched the two of you staring at each other for the past couple of hours, so no one bats an eye when Bucky nudges you gently and you make your way up the stairs to the fancy elevator that’s going to take you up to a bedroom.

Or, more specifically, to a bedroom that’s being used to store all kinds of evidence, but no one else needs to know that little detail.

You notice the director talking to Spindly Arms and a couple of other people, but you force your gaze not to linger on her. Instead, you grab Bucky’s hand more tightly.

He lets go of you as soon as the elevator doors close behind the two of you, dragging a hand through his hair and messing it up. There aren’t any cameras in the elevator, but you’re both pretty sure there will be on the floor you’re going. "CIA exposure, that’s exactly what we needed."

"There was nothing I could’ve done," you say, tugging your sleeves down your shoulders.

"I’m not blaming you, sweetheart," Bucky says distractedly, loosening his tie. Your heart makes a very heavy thud. "But if Walker shows up tonight as well, I’m gonna shoot first and ask questions later."

"No, you won’t," you say with a grin, mostly because you know he didn’t bring his gun because the male attendees were all frisked at the entrance.

"Maybe I’ll throw a knife. I could say it was an accident."

The conversation lasts barely a moment, but it reminds you so much of what the two of you used to be, it hurts.

You follow him stumbling out of the elevator onto the right floor with a breathless laugh. There’s no one in sight as you subtly check the room numbers before making him follow you with a coquettish smile for the security camera.

You find the right door without much trubble, pulling the keycard out of your inconvenient little handbag. "Come on now," you murmur as the lock rejects it at the first try.

Suddenly, Bucky’s hand is on your waist again, and you gasp as he spins around. The keycard drops to the floor.

He presses you against the wall, effectively trapping you in his embrace. Your hands are laid flat against his chest, his heart thundering madly underneath your fingertips. Bucky’s eyes flit around madly, like he’s trying to come up with something on the spot and, for the first time since you’ve known him, is left without ideas.

You gasp as his nose brushes against yours.

"Sorry," he whispers hoarsely. And then he kisses you.

Your body responds immediately, lighting a fire in your core as his lips press against yours, hungry, gentle, almost apologetic. You can taste the champagne on his tongue.

You arch your back against him on instinct as his hands travel down your arms, brushing your hips, your tighs, slowly parting your dress at the slit. Your eyes fly open the moment you realize what he’s doing, even though he swallows your gasp.

In one smooth motion, he pulls the I.C.E.R. out of the garter on your thigh and fires a single, silenced shot. The guy with the earpiece barely has the time to grunt before he sacks against the opposite wall, unconscious, his hand still in the pocket of his jacket.

"Fuck," you hiss, pushing Bucky away from you. He stumbles slightly, the gun loose in his fingers. His eyes are almost black as he blinks at you. "You could have told me we’re being shadowed."

Bucky’s mouth is stained from your lipstick, and the sight of that alone makes your head swim. You can still feel the ghost of his hand on your leg.

"It’d have blown our cover," he replies, infuriatingly calm. "Hate me later, our window has just narrowed by a bit."

You swallow, blinking to try and gain control over your breath again, grabbing your gun back with a short nod. "Let’s finish this, then."

***

Back at the Compound, you both give an exhausted report about the events of the night, leaving out nothing but your improvised kiss on floor fifteen.

Your lips are still tingling with it.

Finally, you and Bucky are left alone in the briefing room, and for the first time in weeks, he doesn’t just get up and leave as soon as the silence takes hold. Instead, you both sit next to each other, staring straight ahead.

"I guess we should talk," he says slowly, reluctantly, and you can’t help it.

Your defenses shoot up again.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," you say, squinting.

"Yes, you do." He’s lost the tie hours ago, but he keeps tugging at the fabric in his hands as if it could give him the words he’s looking for. "I shouldn’t have kissed you, not with … Not like that."

"Like you said, the guy would’ve blown our cover," you say, crossing your arms.

"Doesn’t make it right."

"What do you want me to say, Buck?" you say sharply. "That you should’ve talked to me before? Well, I’m kind of used to you not doing that anymore, so just forget it."

"Y/N—"

"No, really, it’s fine. Like I said, you’re leaving, anyway, so what does it matter. Didn’t tell me you were planning to do that, either. You just did it."

"You know why I’m leaving."

"No, I fucking don’t!" There are tears in your eyes now. "I have been trying really hard, Bucky, but you’ve just shut me out. I thought you needed space, which is fine, by the way, but you just—one day you decided you were done with me and that was it."

He stares at you incredulously. "You seriously don’t remember."

"Don’t remember what?!"

"That you were talking about me. To Natasha."

The memory rushes through you so violently it’s almost ridiculous you hadn’t thought about it in months.

You’d just come back from another undercover op, and you’d called her right as the door to your room had closed behind you because not for the first time, your feelings had threatened to spill over again.

"You should talk to him. Be honest."

"No, Nat, come on, I can’t—I can’t do that to him. I can’t risk … you know, he’s my best friend. And that’s all it can ever be. I don’t want to ruin what we have. I just wish he’d make it easier."

"You’re making excuses, you know. Both of you deserve a bit of happiness, don’t you think?"

"I tried," Bucky says now, barely looking at you. "I tried making it easier. But you’re so …"

"So what?" you ask hollowly, ignoring the fact that you can feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks now. "So pathetic? That’s what this is about, isn’t it? That’s why you asked for the transfer, so you can be rid of me."

"Rid of you?" Bucky starts, but you ignore him.

"You know what, Bucky, fuck you if you think my feelings for you are so much of an inconvenience that you need to leave the state. Silly me for thinking we could be adults about this."

"You’re the one who wouldn’t just tell me."

"Well, now you know anyway and I’m sure once you’re off to Cairo or wherever the fuck they’re going to send you, you can have a big old laugh about the stupid girl who fell in love with you despite the fact that—"

"Love?"

"I mean, obviously?!"

"You … you’re in love … with me?" There’s something very soft and vulnerable in Bucky’s eyes.

"Are we talking about two different phone calls?"

"I thought you hated me."

You huff incredulously. "Why would I hate you?"

"That’s why I gave you space, I thought … but then …" He grabs your hands. "Sweetheart, I’ve been in love with you for years."

It punches the air out of your lungs. "What?"

Bucky’s eyes are devastating as he looks at you, then. "I’m so sorry, I—I got it all wrong, I was just—I thought you know and you didn’t see me like that and that’s why I …"

"You …?" you say, still not quite comprehending what’s going on.

His thumb caresses your knuckles, halting when it makes contact with the ring you’re still wearing. "I'm in love with you," he says quietly.

"I don’t understand," you whisper.

"Please tell me I didn’t fuck this up completely."

This time, you’re the one to lean in.

Where your first kiss in the hallway had been feverish, this one is soft, almost unbelievably sweet, both of you still breathless with the fact that you’re allowed to do this. Finally, it feels like all the pieces are falling into place and you’re home again.

You press closer into him and Bucky smiles against your lips, pulling you in with his hands on your hips just like he did when you were dancing earlier.

The loudspeakers overhead crackle. "Alright, kids, we’re gonna break this up until you’re back in your own quarters, I don’t want to expose FRIDAY to the creation of your sex tape."

You break up with a snort.

"Fuck you, Tony," Bucky shouts, but he’s still smiling as wide as you’ve ever seen him do.

You giggle as you nudge your nose against his, curling your fingers into his hair. "That reminds me, you know."

"Of what?"

"Quick and discrete," you mumble, repeating his words from the hotel. "Title of your sex tape."

Bucky groans and shuts you up again.

(A few years later, you get the ring back.)

happy holidays, y'all 💛 thank you for reading!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!

#sweet as sugar challenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #almost believing

[xardiee]

what if merlin told arthur about mordred

I haven’t watched the show in a while but a scene like that is running through my head.

merlin is stressed and unhappy in s5 for obvious reasons and arthur notices bc of course he does. right after another questioning of “I haven't seen you smile these past three days” merlin just snaps, lets out a frustrated sigh as he mutters. “you wouldn’t believe why even if I told you”

and arthur holds in the mocking joke that’s on the tip of his tongue noticing just how serious his friends looks, how sullen and strained and frankly all he wants back is the childish banter between the two of them that’s held him together all these years so he nods. “try me.”

and merlin reluctantly tells him because he’s tired, so damn tired of keeping so many things bottled up and he doesn’t want to imagine a world where arthur is no longer here because he was too afraid to say the truth. so he tells him with a promise not to get angry at first and then “a sorcerer in a cave showed me a vision that revealed mordred is to be your bane”

it sounds ridiculous even to his own ears.

and of course arthur doesn’t believe him at first bc does he ever, he scoffs in response, laughing about how merlin’s jokes aren’t funny. “it is not a joke, he’s dangerous.”

arthur realizes he’s serious and then he’s no longer smiling, instead insulted, annoyed his friend would question the loyalty of a knight—a kid who’s saved arthur’s life. “you know better than to believe the word of a sorcerer.”

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me.” is all the warlock says before excusing himself.

and arthur doesn’t believe him, how could he? after all magic and sorcery has done to his family, he is suddenly supposed to take one’s word for it over his trusted knight? someone who has saved and fought for him countless of times. it doesn’t make sense.

but the way merlin looked at him before storming out plays back in his head like an annoying nightmare. utterly lost, exhausted and desperately pleading with arthur to believe him or at least take heed to what he revealed.

and he never wants merlin to look at him that way again.

so he wonders…what if—

and then angst, more arguments, longing looks, angst, arthur in an internal dilemma did I mention angst

#merlin #bbc merlin #bbc arthur #arthur pendragon #merthur #merlin fic #merlin drabble #⚡️.merlinrants #I wrote this in like 2 minutes leave me alone

[roseworth]

hey <3 heres what i think of every scene that rosenberg has written with rose

disclaimer: most of this is me being very nitpicky. rose was a side character for all of these appearances so obv i understand that its not gonna be perfect characterization. but i rly like talking about rose characterization so this is just me pulling apart her appearances for fun <3

ok lets go

overall

i LOVE the jason & rose dynamic. im not much of a jayrose fan but since its happening im glad that its like this. i love that its so much "rose is excessively horny and jason is giving her nothing" bc its so in character for both of them. shes fucking with him and he does not know how to reciprocate. they r so sillies

HOWEVER. rose would not just hang around him like shes doing. as much as i like that dynamic i feel like he also has to at least sometimes show that hes. you know. interested in having her around. shes just kinda tagging along and i wish there was a reason why she would put up with him never giving her anything, especially since she has a tendency to leave at the first sign of not being wanted

on a completely different note, im a little disappointed that shes wearing her old costume instead of the new one she has in btbatb/kt ravager. i appreciate that shes still drawn like an adult but i rly like her new costume so im sad that she doesnt have it

man who stopped laughing #9

STRONG start. beats up a bunch of cops, then right after she appears she does her stupid flirting thing then immediately says that she doesnt want to associate with the batfamily. queen.

not to mention right before this is my fav failgirl moment where she goes through her whole plan to crash the car and break jason out of prison. then just goes up and knocks on the door

flips the car over then walks up and says "hey its the fire department. open up" and not a single person believes her. i love her

lesbian rose crumbs <3 i still choose to believe shes talking about cass here idc. shes so silly and this was a cute lil panel

so yeah. she was on one page of this issue but that one page was great and i love her

mwsl #10

shes so lame <3 i talked about this moment a lot when this issue first released but i love it. "somebody had all the fun without us" upon finding a body, then realizing someone else was there and just. starts shooting. she doesnt hit anything. she doesnt even know where the other person is.

my big problem here is that she does not carry a gun and pretty much never uses guns. honestly now that im thinking about it this is one of the only times shes ever used a gun on panel (the other times i can think of being: shooting wade off a cliff after her mom died, shooting starfire in n52 outlaws (but new 52 rose barely even counts as rose), and using deathstroke's gun when she was pretending to be him in deathstroke 2016)

shes not anti-gun or anything but it still bothers me just a little that suddenly she has a gun (hence why i fully believe she stole jasons gun <3)

if i want to nitpick, kate should not have been able to hit her. rose should've seen she was coming wayyy before (bc precog) and she wouldnt be knocked down from one hit. i fear we are headed down a path of her becoming jasons incompetent girlfriend but i wont be too dramatic about her getting hit one (1) time

but other than that i thought this was a fun moment of rose getting hit then jason immediately fighting the person that hit her. toxic girlbesties fr

then also her needing to be held back after she gets up so she doesnt start attacking the person thats helping them <3 i love her

mwsl #11

this is a nice issue for her just because in true rose tradition she LOVES to have homoerotic fights with every other female character she interacts with. the kate & rose dynamic was soooo fun i love it when shes mean to people for no reason <3

i did not like this part though. i feel like there are a lot of implications about rose here that are unfair to her character & her place in the dcu. i'll meet the book on its own terms and say that we're only talking about post-52 rose (blah blah everything's canon rn but this book is very clearly not using pre-52 rose lore) but even then? theres no real reason for her to be ducking superheroes or for superheroes to keep an eye on her. shes not a villain or even much of a killer, the fact that shes "staying off the radars" of good guys doesnt make much sense. and the fact that kate knows her and "studies" her (fellas is it gay to study another woman despite never meeting her) implies that rose is like. a threat. shes just kind of around there is no reason kate should know her like that

cute moment! but also it bothers me. i think its fun that she refused to go since its not her fight and she doesnt want to get into a joker mess. HOWEVER. when has she ever in her life passed up an opportunity to get involved in someone elses problem. to me she wouldnt have even delivered the list of addresses without a fight if she wasnt gonna go along

other than her using a gun again (where the hell did she even get that) i like this <3 her showing up and saving manhunter after she said she didnt care what happened is so her. also i just like the fact that she shot joker

gay gay homosexual gay

the rest of this issue is fun <3 just kate & rose fighting together then getting blown up together <3 this was a nice issue for her despite the problems i had with it

gotham war red hood #2

gotham war break!!!

okay first of all i LOVE that he took her along. there was no reason for rose to be here but jason was told to meet someone and said "ok ill go but my weird friend comes with me" its so funny

ive seen a lot of people complain about the "you're my only friend" line but i LOVE it. not necessarily because she doesnt have any friends but because she would not in a million years ADMIT that she has friends. she would rather be shot in the head than say that she actually likes the people that she hangs out with.

but to be fair.... she also doesnt have friends. "what about the lazarus island gang?" the only person she actually liked there and showed any friendship toward was damian, and they ARE friends but she considers him more of a little brother than a friend. "what about the teen titans??" a) she would NEVER admit that she is friends with any of them b) its technically.... not really canon that she was ever on the same team as them. like i said before, im meeting this book on its terms, and rose being a teen titan hasnt been mentioned since flashpoint :( i wont go on a whole tangent about her friends but given that she hasnt really made a friend in years and never talks to anyone else, i think its fair for her to say that she has no friends

so yeah all this to say: she has friends, but it is 100% in character for her to say that she has no friends. i stand by this line

i dont have much to say here i just think shes so cute <3 i also love the fact that jason jumped straight to "rose is robbing a dead person" instead of "rose is inspecting the body"

but im OBSESSED with the fact that she DOES rob him. i feel like we're not talking about this enough. she saw a dead body and took his money. im not even mad about it because its so fucking funny to me

im sorry jay/rose fans this makes me want to vomit. this feels too "earnest emotions" for both of them. the rest of this scene was fine but this panel specifically feels so :/

"i just need help" "always" and "please take care of yourself" and "meet at our spot" "promise?" "i promise" does not feel like them at all. its a very sweet and genuine moment but they would NOT have sweet and genuine moments! neither of them would ever express their feelings and they would not have this conversation

this does not feel like rose at all idk who this is. where is the rage!!!!!! where is the anger!!!!!!! why did she stand there for hours just. worried about him. why isnt she lashing out

comparing this to the scene in tt03 where she's worried about eddie:

she gets angry! shes worried about him and starts yelling at everyone around her because hes hurt and she doesnt know whats happening. i would have LOVED this energy in this book and its sooooo disappointing that she just. stands there like 🥺 when she doesnt know what happened to jason

mwsl #12

i rly liked this part fhdkjfhakjdfd i thought her pretending to be him just to get batman out of the way was so good and so real. shes helping out AND fucking with batman

very minor complaint here but this isnt even true . she DOES try to run into him in ds16 when slade kidnaps damian and rose gives bruce the ransom terms. also i feel like this line is vaguely implying that she HAS found him (/he found her) on accident before which is also not true given that their only interactions are in ds16 and being in the same general area in shadow war. and also reiterating that shes not a villain so batman has no reason to track her down or cause problems for her but. whatever. this is entirely just me jumping to conclusions about what this one throwaway line means and then getting mad about it

LOVE this. she inserted herself into the situation then complains about it. this isnt her business and shes making sure that jason knows it. but also she completely volunteered for most of this

BOOOOOOOO she would not fucking say that. "sorry about that whole chase" no she would not apologize. "please dont kick my ass" she would NOT say that!!!!! first of all given that this is after gotham war she would probably kick his ass just for what he did to jason. even besides that she would not be afraid of him even a little. comparing their convo in ds16 #5 to this is so sad bc </3 why is she afraid of him instead of being a huge bitch and yelling at him

this ending is really good for her though. she absolutely would dive into the water with joker gas, trash, and dead bodies just to save her friend <3

this is more like it!!!!!!!! shes worried for him and takes initiative to save him by jumping in the water despite it being a very dangerous decision and then insults him while she saves his life <3333 its a tiny bit more of her being mean to express worry which is nice <3 its not perfect but its closer

in conclusion: there are many good moments. there are many parts i like about it. but there are just so many things that dont feel like rose </3 most of the broad strokes are there but it just doesnt feel like her when shes not full of rage and going out of her way to piss people off

#yk i actually had some stuff i wanted to get done today. but instead i spent 2 hours putting this together #no regrets i have so much to say all the time #rose wilson #dc

[starbuckaroo]

Probably just coz it’s the middle of the night and I didn’t sleep last night either but I un-why-lamped myself on accident and I feel I must remove my clown nose, hang up the rainbow wig, so to speak. I no longer see a viable path forward for irl canon buddie 😔 the caveat of course is that I would love to be proven wrong, and I’m not about to be shoving these opinions on other people, but I gotta get them outta my head.

tbh I was brought into this show by ppl who fully believe(d) in canon buddie so I was eventually convinced to hop into the clown car w them. Idk if they’re still in there or not but it doesn’t much matter. I can be genuinely rooting for the honk honk crew and also acknowledge when I feel like the probability is no longer on our side.

I just I think I got so sleep deprived it made me a little high/delirious to the point where I accidentally tripped and fell into a General Audiences view of buck and Eddie and suddenly everything seemed like there was a totally obvious no homo rationale behind it. Granted, up until 6.18 I think the potential was still there, truly, but the way they ended s6 was a little too firm for me to believe they would still be able to lead a GA member down the path to canon buddie. The fact is that they needed to plant some explicit (by which I mean literally said with words or implied so strongly that there is no possible way a generic viewer would be able to take it another way) evidence that either one of them has ever in the past had attraction to other men or is currently reconsidering their approach. As simplistic and reductive as it feels for me, a certified Advanced Internet Queer, I do also think it is necessary to lead GA by the hand with something like that. And I think they’ve pretty much missed their chance.

I have yet to mention at all any thoughts about why this may have happened or what intentionality may currently or previously be present at any level of production of the show. That’s a whole other bag of worms and I have plenty of speculative thoughts but I’ll touch on that at the end if I get to it.

Like I just. I just suddenly saw a vision of a GA watching it and going: ah yes Buck has wanted to be a dad since s1e1 so he made friends with Eddie who already was a dad but didn’t have a partner so he had a slot open for a bff, so he taught Buck a little more about being a dad the same way Abby taught Buck about being a partner. The will scene was just Eddie making it explicit that he recognizes how buck has evolved into a dad-worthy character so he can be a back up dad. Eddie’s panic attacks? Not leading to something interesting about comphet, no it was legit just about Shannon, who is now his high school gf he knocked up at 18. The couch thing? Not that deep, just a fun visual to remind ppl that buck needs a good couch that he picks for himself/with his next partner (not rushed into it or picked for him by a well meaning but out of touch family member). And it shows up at Eddie’s house bc he heard about it from buck and is also feeling the need for a partner in his house. Even “you two have an adorable son” was given exclusively to Buck to cue his brain to think about how he does actually enjoy being seen as a dad and would like to have a son someday maybe, like it’s just for him to actualize that as a concrete goal for the future. The poker game? It’s Eddie showing off how confident and connected he is, proving he CAN be suave and have a night out if he does it to have fun (and not be a performance).

Plus the thing w Natalia they seem to be setting up to be pretty serious, given that they tried to run her off with his most offensive exes, and then made her be present for an emergency helps her see a little more of the reality of his job, and particularly with it being for the birth of a baby, AND her recognizing the way he looked at the baby and THEN saying “hey I like you let’s smooch” like…they legit set her up to actually see his major drama and his life/partner goals BEFORE they start aiming towards anything serious. So like yeah it never seemed like Taylor was gonna want kids but if Natalia didn’t want kids she wouldn’t have led him on AFTER watching him deliver a baby. Idk I just feel like they actually set Natalia up pretty well to be a decent match for Buck if that’s where they wanted to go. And same w Marisol to a much lesser degree obvs.

Idk I’m hella sleep deprived and can’t think of anymore of my “gotcha” buddie moments but like. EYE don’t see/interpret things this way, *but* I suddenly was able to understand how someone could pay close attention and still legit fail to spot the buddie of it all without being malicious.

And that plus the changing political climate and the writers strike make me think that it’s just not worth the risk like it may once have been, idk. Idk it sucks lol I don’t enjoy this, and I do feel like there are some episodes where the queer subtext is very strong so like maybe that WAS the goal at some point or some writers/directors managed to get more subtext in, like supernatural stylez lol idfk there’s no way of ever knowing that unless they say so, so idk

#disjointed as fuck coz I’m sleepy as hell but couldn’t rest til I excused this shit #do not enjoy that it is such a contentious issue in the fandom to have opinions #but oh well #so no #911 spoilers #911 critical #idfk how to tag oh well

[crowned-clown-rising]

A young girl watches BBC Merlin for the first time in 2022 and shares her thoughts for your entertainment.

This time season 3

Enjoy watching me lose my sanity I guess.

Season 1 | Season 2

• This show in never going to let me know peace ever again, is it?

• I kind of want to see Merlin snap back at Arthur more, because if he doesn't the servant-master trope becomes a nono for me. Like, if they fuck with each other, it sort of brings them to the same level, but if it's only Arthur treating Merling like shit, well... idk doesn't sit right

• Morgana my baby look at you how much you've grown. Yes honey play them all slayy

• About her reunions... 1) this Morgwen divorce is really feeling like a slap in the face they were sO CLOSE AND :c 2) How was Merlin so gullible lol xd 3) Arthur's... I'm really sad for them. I really feel bad for Arthur when he finds out and ugh tHEY COULD HAVE BEEN GREAT TOGETHER

• Is that Lucifer

• Wasn't Morgana super good with the sword how is Merlin even facing her with it?

• The goblin episode is the best one so far I'm laughing sO MUCH. Morgana thinking that Gaius knows about her secret and that Merlin stole her bracelet and in reality it's just a random goblin messing around and slapping the king's head after making him bald.

• OMG I JUST NOTICED HAHAHA in the throne room there is a shield hanged and said shield is one that belongs to my homeplace, Castilla y León, in Spain. And his fact it's even better when you know that in my hometown there is a pub called Camelot

• Is that the woman from Balto AND the herbalist teacher from Harry Potter

• Morgana using Gwen and putting her at risk to kill Arthur just broke my heart. I cannot- Not them. They were in love, your honor 😭

• Arthur: I have to do this alone. No help.

Merlin: Sorry I couldn't hear you. My ears suddenly fell off. Anyway I'm going to check every tabern in this realm in search for even more unrequested help. Ok I just miss Gwaine.

• Why doesn't Merlin tell Gwaine about his magic. He would keep the secret even just out of spite lol and probably high five the boy.

• This is not fair I already love Gwaine so fucking much 🤡 I really hate it here.

• Gwaine bi king??? How can I not stan.

• I need you guys to tell me the exact episode I need to skip so that Gwaine simply stops appearing in scenes and there is no other reason for it, we'll just say he went explore something.

• Is that the timelord from Doctor who

• Is that Queen Victoria from Doctor who

• I can't help it I'm pretty sad that Arthur not only has no idea of everything Merlin does, but he instead thinks he was doing something completely false and irresponsible and– like going to get drunk the day Gwen is getting burnt at the stake. It's SO SAD BC I WOULD BE SO DISSAPPOINTED AT MERLIN FOR NOT HELPING OUT AND Merlin must feel SO bad for not beeing seen and auhdfjalf

• Listen you don't understand just how much I wish Morgana had left Gwen out of their plots. It doesn't even make sense, she loved her so much and Gwen did nothing to her how could she be so eager to see her dead?? I hate it here. Imagine if Morgana was conflicted bc of Gwen? like, she would pursue her path but would try at least not to hurt Gwen, doesn't that make much more sense??

• Arthur and Gwen don't make my little heart flick as much, but they are pretty cute I have to admit it. And Merlin honestly seems happy that the people he loves are happy together.

• Is that Dudley Dursley

• This ep before the finale make me feel good about Merlin and Arthur. Not as a couple, but in reflection of character development and all. And they are awarded by their choices like yes finally.

• Unrelated but the 4 second scene where Merlin is doing chores for Arthur and Arthur is just there vibing and asking for advise/ranting gives such a homey comfy ambient between them that it's so sweet.

• I'm so grateful for Lance to know about Merlin's powers. Like yes finally an ally and a friend who sees him and can confide in 😭🥺 I just wish Gwaine knew too. That man is everything but a snitch.

• Gwaine con el uniforme de caballero guApooo El barrio entero para tii la reina del martes santoo el niño de nUestroS OjoS!

#bbc merlin #merlin #morgana pendragon #pendragon #arthur pendragon #guinevere #guinevere pendragon #morgana #arthur #merthur #morgwen

[mariproducer]

Do you think Adrien does love Marinette, buts is in denial and realizing that she's Ladybug is the push for him to accept his feelings, or do you think that he will only love Marinette when he learns she's Ladybug?

The way the LS is handled in the show makes it hard for me to give you an answer on this anon, I'll be honest.

On one hand, you have tidbits like the lucky charm bracelets, the album autograph, Adrien's speech about Marinette in Mayura, and the multiple instances where he's visibly comfortable in her presence. On their own, these moments and details can paint a picture that Adrien is in denial for his feelings for Marinette.

Then you have episodes like Frozer, where Adrien decides to rebound with Kagami, instead of Marinette, Weredad, where Adrien doesn't think twice in rejecting Marinette's "love confession", Puppeteer 2, where he feels comfortable telling Marinette he's in love with someone else casually in conversation, and Chat Blanc, where it appears that he only dates Marinette because he knows she's Ladybug and she has a crush on him. For an entire season and a half, Adrien seems to pretty firmly see Marinette as a friend and ONLY as a friend. He never seems to entertain the idea of dating her at all.

Then you have s4, where the few scenes we get between Adrien and Marinette as civilians don't have the same emotional or memorable impact of earlier scenes. The only notable one off the top of my head is the one from Psychomedian, but it feels more like Adrien is laughing AT Marinette, rather than alongside her... way to go love interest, how romantic.

Which leaves us with s5… I'll be honest, Adrien suddenly and explicitly developing feelings for Marinette makes no sense whatsoever. Partially because Adrien and his writing is a master of mixed messages in a bad way and partially because the circumstances that lead to him changing targets is contrived. The reason Adrien reconsiders his feelings for Marinette is because she helped him talk to his father about modeling. Like, let's be real: Marinette's advice of "just talking to him" is actually shitty advice (considering the way Gabriel treats Adrien) and the only reason it works out is because Gabriel had his #win via getting most of the miraculous (when Felix did all the work ahem). And considering that Marinette has helped Adrien in the past (Gorizilla, Christmas Special, NY Special when he's Adrien, Evillustrator, Glaciator, Glaciator 2 when he's Chat Noir), why is it only now that he finally sees her in a different light?

If anything, I would rather have Adrien come to terms with having romantic feelings for Marinette prior to him finding out she's Ladybug. I get that, at the end of the day, Marinette and Ladybug are the same person, but if Adrien still can't see the same qualities that he (supposedly) likes in Ladybug when he's faced with Marinette, then it just feels sort of weird to require him to find out she's LB to push his romantic feelings for her. (and also bc I'm a sucker for the idea of someone having their heart torn btwn two ppl and the LS lends itself well to that idea)

#ask #anon #love square salt #fighting for my life against mlbs inconsistent writing #long post #idek if i answered ur question well anon i think this became a tangent on a portion of the LS's poor handling in the show

[roosterbruiser]

⭐️ could I get the director's cut of the hand job scene in chapter 4 of SS? 😄

yes, of course!! thanks so much for sending this in!!

honestly this is gonna be pretty long so pls buckle in

my favorite part of the entire exchange is this:

“I like it,” you tell him, biting your lip. You sit up on your elbows and he releases a breathy laugh. “It’s…pretty.” 

“Filly, did you just call my boner pretty?” 

Biting your lip harder, you nod, shrugging. 

“What do you want me to call it?” 

His palm is spread across your thigh now, very softly massaging it. He is biting a smile of his own as your eyes wash over him. Just knowing that you’re looking at him, just knowing that you’re going to touch him is making him even harder. It’s almost surreal knowing how close the two of you are right now. 

“Magnificent would do the trick. Glorious, too. I’d settle for big, though,” Jake says. 

I just fucking love Filly, I think she's so brutally honest and funny. and I love that her and Jake talking like this doesn't dampen the fire between them or like kill his boner. this just shows how in love they are, I think. she sees his penis for the first time and says it's pretty. love it! why don't we say that penises are pretty more often?? I hear pretty pussy all the time!!

I also love this part:

“Did I hurt you?” You ask, beginning to retract. 

Hastily, Jake shakes his head. His eyes are screwed shut and his forehead is wet against your temple. He’s hovering you still, pressing himself against you just right. 

“No--God, no. Not a bit,” he promises. He exhales, relishing in the wet warmth of your hand. “S’good the way you’re holding it. Spread all that spit around now.” 

just the way that Jake is talking her through everything, but also the way he's reassuring her. bc she's never done this!! and while I think that Jake is not an asshole to the other girls he's slept with, I don't think he's anywhere as sweet with them as he is with Filly!

And with another pump, he falls into you, cumming with a grunt as silk ribbons spread out over the little bit of your belly that pokes out beneath your tank-top. And he stays on top of you and you stop pumping and lay there, his head in the crook of your neck, grinning up at the ceiling. You’re elated--you feel so old suddenly, so blissfully adult. 

“Oh, my God,” he mumbles into your hair, drunk on the scent of oranges on your skin. “Jesus Christ.” 

also him rolling on top of her when he cums....yeah. YEAH. this does it for me. this does it for me so much.

send me a ⭐ if you want my commentary on a certain story! or send in a part you want me to give commentary on!

#m answers #silver springs #directors commentary

[winderlylandchime]

2/2 ‘BRIAN AND EMMETT! LOOK AT THE BEST FRIENDS. When you think about it, theyre basically the same person. (Emmett says it hasnt been his year dick wise) THIS is what im being robbed off when they don’t give me them as friends! Since when does Em know about cancer? I know for a fact that’d be a sweet moment between them and i was robbed! This is how he’s telling people? Iconic. If this was today, he’d just post it on his IG Story.’ And we are back at Mel and Mikey ‘I genuinely say this from the bottom of my heart: i hate them both. Finally lindsay has a fucking brain shes using. Unfortunately she still has a horrible haircut though’ Loretta brings Deb heart shapped dessert ‘oh rosie. My sweet Rosie *long pause and then looks at me and points to his Brian inside a heart shirt* This is literally me with Brian.’ ‘FINALLY TED MAKEOVER! I get triggered every time they say queer guy, just thought you should know. I’m so happy that Emy and Teddy are friends again’ ‘look Mike is realizing he’s an asshole. I could’ve told you that 4 seasons ago. Or episodes. The next apology and confirmation that he’s an asshole needs to be to Brian that dinner pissed me off! Who does that to a friend? Just watches while they get attacked?. I still hate him for that. BRIAN! Look at this cutie (and Ted reveal happens) TEDDY! He looks good. Wait, I need a video of Brian saying Ted is fabulous on a loop’ ‘they brought Rosie just for a little kissy kiss and that was it? Good for her. *looks at me like he just figured out all the world problems* mmm she probably had to go back to work on her show’ (she did not the show was already over at that point but he refused to believe me) Mel asks Linds if she is giving up JR bc she doesnt want to be her mother ‘girl, after how you and michael behaved? Even i dont wanna see that damn baby anymore. Now where the fuck is Gus, the real star of the show? Give him to Brian and Justin for a sleepover’ ‘mike acts like he’s got it all figured out and like he’s this grown up dude who is suddenly too good for Liberty Avenue and yet he’s a fucking idiot and a child. WHY IS HUNTER BACK ON THE STREET? What the fuck is going on with him? Why would they do that?’ AND we are at that Britin scene now ‘Blondie! Look at him drawing. Imagine if they hung out at Brians office and Blondie worked on his art and Bri was working on his shit? I should’ve been a writer on the show. God, im so happy his hair is back. BRI BRI! Okay what the fuck is going on? He doesnt wanna fuck Brian? Okay cool that’s okay. Can’t relate but to each their own, i guess but why does he look like hed rather jump off Empire State Building? He’s acting like he killed someone calm down it’s just an std it happens, what the fuck? WHAT IS GOING ON? Since when does Justin care for all this? Why is he being like this?’ Justin reveals the Rage drawings ‘WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS THIS? When are you gonna stop fucking every et that moves??? NEVER? And he gave him a virus in the series? WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK JUST HAPPENED? Did i hallucinate the part where Justin and him had that foursome? Or when those dudes were all over him in babylon? OR THE LA FUCKS? WHAT IS HAPPENING TO MY BLONDIE? Blondie i said never change? What is this? And dont even get me started on the Rage comic. Thats fucked up, thats why he hid it from Brian cause he knows that’s fucked up. I hate this. What the fuck is going on?’ He then got up and went outside to smoke and didn’t come back for 20 minutes. And when he finally did all he said was ‘this is bullshit’ and then he left the house to go on a walk to clear his head. And when he came back he refused to talk about qaf. So the beginning of the end has officially started.

BRIAN AND EMMETT! LOOK AT THE BEST FRIENDS. When you think about it, theyre basically the same person. (Emmett says it hasnt been his year dick wise) THIS is what im being robbed off when they don’t give me them as friends!

Your brother is feeding my little KinneyCutt shaped heart. They are basically the same person, I've been saying that! Also, they're both tall.

*long pause and then looks at me and points to his Brian inside a heart shirt* This is literally me with Brian. Yes it is, Brother. If Loretta adopted a cat (which she will in a half a second because she's a lesbian, yes this is a self-own) she would/will name it Debbie.

mike acts like he’s got it all figured out and like he’s this grown up dude who is suddenly too good for Liberty Avenue and yet he’s a fucking idiot and a child. The joy I am getting from your brother reading Michael is immeasurable.

I should’ve been a writer on the show. Yes, he should have.

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS THIS? When are you gonna stop fucking every et that moves??? NEVER? And he gave him a virus in the series? WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK JUST HAPPENED? Did i hallucinate the part where Justin and him had that foursome? Or when those dudes were all over him in babylon? OR THE LA FUCKS? WHAT IS HAPPENING TO MY BLONDIE? Blondie i said never change? What is this?

I'm crying. I'm so sorry anon. I'm so sorry Brother. It gets worse. It gets so much worse.

(To be clear, I love the Only Time speech because it encapsulates them, but Brian proposing and every moment of that is awful. (okay we get some cute couple moments from them being engaged BUT AT WHAT COST? Justin not being at Babylon in the last shot is awful. It is entirely out of character. I hate the writers)

I'm sorry.

#ask winderlylandchime #dear sweet anon #queer as folk #a straight man watches qaf us 2000 in the year of our lord 2023

[yuzukult]

after midnight 03 (m) || jjk & reader

title: after midnight 03 - midday pairing: jeon jungkook x reader genre: angst, smut, fluff, fwb!au, fuckboy!jk, doctor!reader word count: 6.7k warnings: unprotected explicit smut a/n: help,,, this took longer than expected, and i'm not sure if i went the right route?? took a lot of guts to not deactivate bc of this stupid ass writer's block jk not really to not delete this chapter and rewrite from scratch without guilt, like all my fics :D hope you guys enjoy it!! (also im too fed up to proofread it so,,, sorry)

You’re not a psychiatrist, it’s not your specified profession. You don’t diagnose mental health—the moment your patients start showing signs, you’re to contact a specialist to handle the situation because technically, you’re not well equipped enough to deal with what happens after the moment of a scene.

But Jungkook has definitely gone insane and somehow it’s your responsibility to take care of it.

Scoffing in disbelief, you can’t help but glance at the clock yet again. It’s after midnight, a time you’re familiar with seeing Jungkook at, and the fact that it’s still this hour and he’s here is just evidence of a relationship that keeps making the same mistakes. “Why do you keep pursuing me? It feels repetitive. I say what I want, then you completely disregard it. Does it ever matter to you as to what I want?”

“Well, do you want me?”

“It’s not about you,” you snap, brows furrowing in frustration. It’s beginning to feel like anything you say to him goes into one ear and out the other. “It’s about what I want in my future, and what you can’t give me in return.”

“But you don’t even want that! You just think you want it because your sister is on her way to have it.” Tips of his ears reddening, the heat that lingers around his neck only gets hotter the more he speaks. “Why did you suddenly want to go this route? You wanted to be a career woman.”

“I can be both a career woman and a wife while bearing children, Jungkook.”

He clenches his jaw. “You never voiced this before.”

But something about your eyes—softening like a stick of butter that’s been left on the counter at room temperature, or the way that one tasty raspberry pastry you brought to his house on your nightly endeavors, the sweetness melting the second it touched his tongue. “To be completely honest with you, Jungkook, I never thought I would have the opportunity to.”

The look on your face haunts his dreams that night, the glint in your eyes is displayed for all his heart aching purposes. He never thought in his life that he’d come to this—begging his own fuck buddy to stay. To fucking stay with him, and not to even take a minute to steal a glimpse at someone else. If it was another girl, he’d be quick to say he could move onto the next in a heartbeat but something about you specifically has him drawn like a magnet.

Hand resting underneath his head while on his pillow, his eyes are glued to the ceiling of his bedroom. There’s emptiness that inhabits his bedsheets, it seems to be missing you and your curled up frame beside him while snoring away from a long day at work. It’s all fun and games, but you’ve always been the exception; the “sore thumb” in that simile everyone uses, the one in his life that somehow defeats all of these rules that he’s set for himself. When you tell him, “we don’t have to be exclusive, but I won’t sleep with anyone else,” never sits well with him, and when your terms became, “you still need to get properly tested if you’re seeing other girls,” he decides that wasting his time with other girls weren’t worth it and he’d just… stay loyal to you.

But what prompts him to do that—he’s not actually sure.

You’ve done what a lot of other girls haven’t done: slept over the entire night, somehow managed to earn a top drawer in his dresser, there’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom, and your favorite mug sits comfortably in his cabinets, designated only for you to use.

There’s even a time where Jungkook’s friend, Jimin, drops by and compliments that stupid mug of yours and asks if he could use it. Jungkook couldn’t say no fast enough.

These are things he would’ve been put off by if it were someone else. He’d tell them to leave, to stop trying to push a space into his heart when he doesn’t want anyone residing there. So… why is he reluctant for you to leave, when you’re the one doing it willingly?

Was it his ego? No, he doesn’t think it could be. Jungkook knows what a hurt ego feels like, but this is entirely something else.

Maybe he likes you? Well, of course he does. You’re cool. He’s never met a girl like you before—not to make you seem like you’re “not like other girls” but he means it in the way that you know what you want, and you don’t spend a lot of time trying to sugarcoat it either. You’re unapologetic for expressing how you feel, but you’re also very easy to make compromises with.

But, that’s a lot of people right? Jimin is like that. Yoongi is too. He likes having friends like that.

Albeit, he doesn’t want to be… just your friend?

Particularly more, hence why he’s so okay with how things are now, but he’s left puzzled because he doesn’t like relationships. He doesn’t like the burdens and obligations that come with it, but for some reason, when he thinks of you… those things suddenly don’t feel… that way?

Jungkook shakes his head. It’s easier to forget that. But he can’t control himself—whenever you say that you don’t want this anymore, something inside of him comes out, some possessive green eyed monster that overtakes his senses.

Maybe he does like you.

Maybe… Jungkook has to come to terms with the fact that this feeling he has for you is… actually okay.

Or not. It should definitely not be okay.

To your surprise. Jungkook approaches Dr. Hyunjin on a regular, boring Wednesday (probably with the intention to grind your gears), and part of you is glad that he doesn’t spot you behind the nurses’ station.

“Hey, uh… I’m looking for a specific doctor here,” Jungkook says, but it’s not a question and also not really a statement either. But when your name escapes from his lips moments after, Dr. Hyunjin’s face brightens in recognition, and something stirs in Jungkook’s stomach. This doesn’t feel good.

“Oh, she’s just over there. I’m Dr. Hyunjin. Is there a reason for your visit? Who are you to her?”

“Other than gettin’ my stitches out, you could say she’s my girl.”

Cringing at the possessiveness his sentence holds, you crawl out from behind the counter with an apologetic look toward Dr. Hyunjin. “Sorry, doc, uh, this is my patient, Jungkook. Don’t mind him.” Turning back to the boy, you scowl. “Come back later, I’m busy.”

Jungkook shakes his head smugly. “Nah. I came to see you, so... Imma see you.”

“Well, since she’s busy, I could always undo your stitches, Jungkook,” Hyunjin has such a pearly white smile that matches his eyes, bright and sparkly like he’s some perfect model in a magazine. He doesn’t even need photoshop, that’s how handsome he is. The more Jungkook notices the prince-like qualities of Hyunjin, the tighter Jungkook clenches his jaw. “If that is, you don’t mind?”

Jungkook doesn’t like Dr. Hyunjin, and he doesn’t want his stitches to be taken out by some nurse or him. He wants just you, and you only.

“I’m good,” he snaps, gesturing to you. “I could just stay here ‘til she’s free.”

You sigh heavily. “Jungkook, this is the ER. It’s busy my entire shift, plus more. I don’t have time for your shenanigans, I have other patients to tend to.” The glare you strike at Jungkook doesn’t faze him one bit, in fact, it entices him to strengthen his stance.

“I can wait for you, baby.”

This changes something in Hyunjin, promptly straightening his posture from resting against the wall. “You know what, I’ll take care of your next patient. You can help Jungkook here, he seems to be more comfortable with you.”

Before you could say anything else, Hyunjin already had his focus narrowed onto the patient charts that you were aiming for next, earning a defeated expression upon your face. “I—Alright, then. Thanks, again, Dr. Hyunjin.”

He turns to sneak a glance at you with the warmest smile on his face. “For you, call me Hyunjin.”

Laid back on the bed, Jungkook takes off his shirt swiftly, throwing it onto the chair in the corner of the room without care. His eyes suddenly aren’t glued to you like they normally are, attention diverted out the door and onto Dr. Hyunjin. “What’s up with that guy?”

Pulling the latex gloves onto your hands, your brows furrowed at his abrupt question. “What guy?”

“Dr. Hyunjin,” he says in a mocking tone, his nose twitching along with his words. Jungkook doesn’t know much about that guy, other than he’s got this lovestruck gaze when he looks at you, like you’re the prettiest girl in the world. In Jungkook’s mind, only he is allowed to look at you like that, even though he has made claims he doesn’t like you in that way. “What kind of doctor lets his patient call him by his first name?” He scoffs. “Totally unprofessional.”

“He likes getting personal with his patients,” you reply casually, rolling a stool by the bedside. “It helps get them to trust him since they’re going to be under his care. It can be difficult trying to get patients to trust their doctors.”

“I trust you. But you don’t have me calling you some weird name—”

“Does that really count though? We knew each other prior to that,” quirking a brow, you drag your metal tray table closer as you take a seat. “Why are you even asking about him? Did he say something that got under your skin?”

“Yeah,” he exhales, watching the way Hyunjin speaks tenderly towards the patients, and the hospital employees that pass by. Jungkook’s head then shoots in your direction. He’s been so distracted by the doctor that he doesn’t even realize that you’ve reached for the tweezers, ready to unravel the stitches in his abdomen. “You know, he asked me who I am to you..”

You freeze, barely even grabbing a piece of the thread. You heard fragments of the conversation, but was there more? “... What did you say when he asked?”

“Of course I told him we were seeing each other,” he sneers, in disbelief that you would even ask that. “Are you interested in that guy?”

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. There’s a lot of reasons why you don’t talk about your personal life at the hospital—the main reason being that word travels fast between the thin pieces of drywall of this place; it’s the only source of entertainment since what broadcasts on those small yet thick CRT televisions that require antennas to get signal. Shows on there are practically on repeat; the same several episodes of a few shows are on a loop and action news channels. But who wants to hear segments on horrible things occurring in the world all the time?

Deciding it’s best to cool down, you resume grabbing each knot in his well-healed wound gently. “Jungkook, I don’t like people knowing what’s going on in my life here. Plus, we’re not even really together. Does it matter if I’m interested in Dr. Hyunjin? Now I have to clear the air between us.”

Jungkook snarls at the name. “Hell yeah it matters. I also want to know why you keep rejecting me whenever I ask you to be my girlfriend?”

“Because you don’t want a relationship, Guk. You say it like a religious chant except you don’t believe in God unless you’re talking about yourself— ‘I don’t do labels.’ Remember that? Because I do. It’s exhausting having to repeat myself and continuously having this same conversation again.”

Of course he remembers that. Not only because you always bring it up at every chance you could get, but because when he contemplates the relationship between the two of you, the answer is always right there in his face. You’re gorgeous, there’s no doubt about it, and you’re smart, curious, and considerate so effortlessly. To put it shortly, you’re sort of the whole package.

You’re the girl that parents are impressed with when brought home. A doctor, for one, highly intelligent while able to hold conversations about things like politics, higher education, social issues and so on, but at the same time, you don’t have a problem with talking about the simpler things in life, like television shows or even stupid memes that everyone comes across on Instagram.

And the thing is, Jungkook doesn’t like girls that make his parents proud.

But strangely enough, he likes you.

“I want the label this time,” he admits candidly, hand finding purchase on your wrist to halt your movements. There’s some truth in his words, but mostly uncertainty. He’s never done this before. “I want to be your boyfriend—the whole shebang or whatever.”

There’s something about those swirls of dark chocolate that he calls eyes, dreamy long lashes that brush against the heights of his cheeks in slow motion while your heart does the opposite and palpitates endlessly. He’s soft, dulcet gaze locked onto yours, charms practically bait to swoon you over. But this is Jungkook, all games, no seriousness. Even this moment of daze won’t get you caught in this tangle of lies. Fuck boys stay fuck boys.

Composed, you unravel the boy’s grip off you. “Cute, Jungkook. You actually should consider auditioning for roles or something, I almost believed you for a second.”

Those girls at clubs wearing skin tight dresses or skirts that were so short he could see their panties without them bending over entirely, the ones that circled around him, gawking and giggling endlessly at his stories about the scars on his body while “coincidentally” showcasing his toned body to them, and the nurses that practically pounce on each other just to sew stitches of his stab wound together were all just… women. They’re the women he’d in the past consider as one-night stands, ones he’d flirt with while alcohol infiltrated his system, and ones he’d hoped to never see outside of the bedroom or at a nightclub. They don’t hurt his feelings, despite him hurting theirs.

But the way you disregard his comments so easily, the way you crinkle your forehead while in concentration, or how you make cooking seem as simple as brushing your teeth in the morning, and the way you walk as if unaffected by anything, unaffected by him in particular, boils Jungkook’s blood. Or the way you annoyingly have a rebuttal for whatever it is he decides to spit out that day because more often than not, Jungkook likes to make douchey comments. But when your words are sharp, his feelings get a bit hurt.

There’s things about you that he hates yet loves at the same time, and truthfully, ever since you said you wanted something serious, the thought of your hand in his is starting to sound tempting.

“What do I have to do to convince you that I actually do wanna date you?”

Pulling out the last knot of thread, you let out a laugh before jokingly answering, “Date someone seriously.”

Challenge accepted.

Well, sort of.

Jungkook doesn’t see himself with any other woman, no matter how hard he tries. He’s not a hopeless romantic, quite the opposite, because before you, he never even could imagine someone under his arm. He doesn’t think like those guys who only see one woman in their lives—but rather an abundance of them, all in queue to be his. Albeit lately, it’s just been you that’s running through his mind lately. But what’s strange is that these past couple weeks, he also… kind of wants to try harder for you, in order to impress you and show you his worth.

But it’s weird. Because yes, he’s coming to terms that this might be what he wants—whatever this is with you—but he doesn’t like the looks of it. It makes him seem weak, fragile, and domestic, the last thing he wants to be seen as.

“Alright, then let me date you seriously.”

You glance up at the boy. “That wouldn’t be proving anything to me, would it? You’d just be doing what you want to do. You don’t want what I want.”

“You keep saying that, but you’re not giving me a chance here,” he says, exasperated. “Like… lemme get a shot at this or something, try whatever that shit you’re drinking that’s got you so loopy in the head. Bring me as a plus one home, to meet your parents and whatnot. See what kind of relationship your sister has, what kind of dynamic your family has, and maybe I’ll be roped in too.”

“Jungkook,” you sigh, shoulders slouching. “That’s a lot to take in. I’m not asking you to do any of this, you realize that, right? There’s no obligation, there’s no request. I know that you’re not into it, so I’m not gonna probe. So why do you keep probing?”

“I… I’ll be honest. I don’t know. But let me try or something.”

You don’t say anything for a couple seconds, letting the silence bleed through the room while you’re sinking into your thoughts. If you don’t let him at least try, he might never really know or understand what it is that you want. He may even feel more motivated; he’ll believe that he knows you best (he just knows your body best, to be quite frank, not your emotions), and continuously probe you and practically second guessing everything.

But the thing is, it’s not your job to show or elaborate what you want. He’s just a fling, nothing else.

Just a fling that makes your heart skip a beat, flush with jealousy when he’s with another girl, and intriguingly think of him during parts of the day when something reminds you of him.

Did you.. Like him?

Quickly, you shake your head from letting your thoughts drift off and cross your arms on your chest. Maybe it’d be easier if it was just Jungkook, instead of having to go online to find dates, ask friends for a “connection,” and even resort to embarrassingly asking your mom to set you up. If not Jungkook, then it has to be those options. “Saturday morning. Pack an overnight bag, and be ready around 7am. Be prepared—this isn’t some regular hookup where you accidentally meet their parents in the morning. This is my parents, and you’re doing this because you want to try, right? Well, here’s your shot. Start trying.”

“God, so you got daddy issues or something cause you fuck so good.”

Fuck, if you don’t wanna choke him so badly. And not in that kinky shit way either.

Nothing is more stressful than bringing your boyfriend to meet your parents.

And it slightly makes it worse that he’s not even officially your boyfriend.

Your anxiety levels are off the charts; hands perspiring, heart racing, and stomach churning are symptoms for it. Just the thought of your mother’s reaction when she sees Jungkook nearly has you shivering in fear, more afraid than when you were twelve and standing in an auditorium full of people for a spelling bee competition, and ending up spelling “daily” wrong because you misheard it for “dairy.” Or during med school, when you’re presenting to a classroom full of renowned doctors who would definitely talk shit and ruin the path of your inexistent career before it even started.

“What’s up with you?” Jungkook asks, shifting in his seat on the passenger side of your car. It’s a little weird seeing him in that spot, especially since… the two of you rarely ever go anywhere together except to each other’s apartments. “Why do you look so… jittery?”

“I’ve never brought home a boyfriend before,” you admit awkwardly, adjusting your seat belt strap for the thirtieth time. Traffic hasn’t moved in a couple minutes, and your impatience is gnawing at your insides. “My parents are a bit… strange. My sister too. They’re traditional in their ways but they’re also not?”

“And you’re… telling this now,” he says it jokingly, but the tone goes over your head because you’re falling into quicksand full of consternation.

“Do you want me to turn back?”

“What? No, it was a joke.”

“It didn’t sound like a joke—”

“Baby,” Jungkook calls you out sternly, watching as your forehead crinkles in confusion. The use of the term of endearment is different this time around, not utilized sexually or flirtatiously, but comfortingly. And peculiarly enough, it’s working. “Want me to drive? You seem tense.”

Releasing a deep breath, you finally relax your shoulders and let your body melt into the driver’s seat of the car. “I’m a bit nervous.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Jungkook pauses for a moment, tapping his fingers against the pane of the window for what seems like ages, but he finally speaks, shattering the glass of silence. “Listen, maybe I pressured you into this. You never forced me to be more with you, but I’m practically pushing you out of your comfort zone here. If I’m overstepping boundaries, just say something, and I’ll be more than happy to grab a cab home.”

Well… that’s… surprising.

Jungkook doesn’t normally converse with that tone—you’re actually not sure if he’s ever spoken to anyone in that manner. He’s not often respectful; words that spew out of his pretty boy lips are often sharp jabs, sexual compliments, or plainly attempts at pick-up lines that only work on girls that swoon over his looks. But… he’s been oddly divergent lately, and whether or not it’s a good thing, you’re not entirely sure.

“I’m, uh, okay, Jungkook. If I wasn’t good with this, I wouldn’t have picked you up this morning.”

He clears his throat, as if he knows what he previously said was out of character. “Uh, right, yeah. Of course. You’re not the type to let people walk over you.”

You roll your lips, hiding that soft smile that begs to be released. He’s… sort of… sweet? This is abnormal. Has he been hiding this side of himself the whole time? “I’m a little worried for you, though. You’ve never met my parents before, nor my sister, and they could be a bit… uh… a lot.”

“A bit a lot?” He mocks, a quiet chuckle escaping from his chest after.

“Yeah. Something like that. You see me, and when you meet them, it might be a little shocking that we’re related.”

“It can’t be that bad, can it?”

Oh, boy. Jungkook wasn’t even sure what he was expecting, but truthfully, it might’ve not been… this?

Standing in the front lawn of a single home, he’s learning that this place is your childhood home. The exterior of the house is painted in both pastel pink and baby powder blue, plethora of colorful flowers decorating the perimeter, and even the cars in the driveway were a shade of neon yellow and orange. Was this a Dr. Seuss book? It’s got that white picket fence that you’re always talking about, surrounding the lawn of a house that looks like the ones you’d see in old Disney Channel movies located in the suburbs, and honestly—he’s taken aback because this does not look like where you grew up.

“Is that—oh my gosh, it’s my big sister!”

When you said that it might be surprising that the two of you are siblings, you really meant it. There was no sugar coating it because she’s completely the opposite; hot pink hair, tight black and white checkered leggings, and a purple shirt to match, it’s quite clear that your sister is… flamboyant, as you remained rather… neutral.

“Hey, Suji…” in comparison, you’re less enthusiastic than she is, especially when Suji wraps her arms tightly around your frame. Physical touch hasn’t always been your strongest suit (unless it’s during sex, but that’s another story for another time). “It’s been a while.”

“Oh my god, it has! Mom would be so excited to know you actually came! You know, she thought that you weren’t going to come, especially since you’re not engaged or married or even have a—oh, who… is this?”

Jungkook waves awkwardly, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. “Uh, hey. Jeon Jungkook, your sister’s boyfriend.”

She gasps like she’s run out of air, her smile tugging wider on her face as she releases her hold on you and onto Jungkook instead. “Incredible! I never knew you had a boyfriend! Mom thought that you would still be stuck on that “independent woman” mindset and never settle down! Look at that! You proved her wrong!”

With a pained expression, your shoulders slouch. “I mean, it’s not… I—”

“Don’t worry, she can still settle while being an independent woman,” Jungkook adds, for a brief second, his eyes lock onto yours and there’s this slight glimmer in them. “But uh, it’s nice to meet you… Su—”

“Suji! I’m Suji. The baby of the family. Oh! You’ll get to meet the rest of the gang, and my fiance! You guys are so going to get along.” And with that, she bolts to the house faster than any Olympic runner, and Jungkook lets out a breath that he doesn’t realize he’s been holding the entire time.

“Wow, that…”

“Was a lot? Yeah, I know,” puffing up your cheeks, you’re reaching to retie your hair once again. “Do you think you’ll be okay? I mean… you’re always welcomed to back out. I’m not asking you specifically to be more with me, I’m just… looking for someone to be more with.”

“You keep saying that but you haven’t even given me a shot yet.” Irritated, he reaches for your bag on the floor and slings it onto his back. “Now, let’s go and not leave your parents waiting any longer. I’m sure they’ll be just as thrilled as your sister.”

Lips pursed, legs closed tightly together, and hands resting on your knees, you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet while seated, awkwardly watching your parents observe Jungkook.

This sight is amusing, you have to admit, because Jeon Jungkook doesn’t look like the type to meet anyone’s parents. He’s the epitome of who you don’t bring home, the typical “fuck boy” that won’t treat your daughter well, the guy that your parents don’t trust, and here he is, sitting across your parents with the goal of trying to somewhat impress them.

It’s hard to withhold the snort that comes out your nose.

“Something wrong, dear?” Your mother asks, batting her lashes. “I hope you forgive me for being a bit appalled that you brought someone home.”

“Just a boyfriend, mom. Not like we’re getting engaged soon,” you can sense your sister’s eyes flickering up at the mere sound of the word, obsessed with her upcoming wedding. “We’re just dating.”

“It’s not an act, is it? Because I heard about those kids who bring home their friends for the weekend in hopes to persuade their parents that they’re seeing each other, but they’re not, in fact they’re close friends and—”

“Mom, we’re dating. Is that hard to believe?”

“Yes, can you blame me though? You’re all about that ‘independent woman’ shenanigans, what am I supposed to expect?” She clicks her tongue before getting up, moving the plate of cookies over to Jungkook. “Nonetheless, you’re a sweet boy, Jungkook. I won’t force you to stay in a room with her, I can always set up the guest bedroom—“

“Uh, that’s not necessary,” he retorts stiffly, slightly fearing what she’d say next. He’s learning that your parents don’t have the typical dynamic that he’d expect; a quiet father without many opinions (although this might be a more common trait than he thought) and a mother who didn’t believe that her boyfriend was actually her boyfriend. Well, sort of. But the two of you weren’t in a fake relationship. “We've, uh, shared a bedroom several times at my apartment, if that’s convincing enough. We’re not pretending, if that’s what you’re getting it.”

Your mother grits her teeth. “Fine, if it makes the two of you feel better. But I’m not happy if I find out that you’re lying.” Brushing off her crumby hands on her pants, she pushes the dining table chair in. Meanwhile, you discreetly grab a piece of the cookie but your mom shoots a glare. “Means that I don’t have to tell Hyunae to sleep on the couch.”

Nearly choking on the cookie in your mouth, the remnants slip out your mouth. “What? Hor-I mean, cousin Hyunae is staying?”

“Ah, did I forget to tell you? Her parents are housing some of the family members, so I thought I’d be so kind and take her in here. You and Jungkook should be fine, yes?”

Uh, you’re not fine. At least, that’s what Jungkook speculates when you’re tossing your suitcase onto the bed, flipping the clasps open and shuffling through your things aggressively.

“Uh, what’s wrong?”

“Horny Hyunae is here.”

Jungkook coughs at the sudden explicit nickname, plopping himself in the armchair placed in the corner. You’re not usually this rash, but it seems like another side of you is coming out when your family is around. “H-Horny Hyunae?”

You puff your cheeks. “Yeah. That bitch is such a hoe, she steals any man in her sight that might be even remotely attractive. She stole the last three dates I brought to family weddings.”

“She stole a man from you? But babe, you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met. I mean, look at your body, that sultry glare you’re always giving me, and not to mention that you’re a fucking doctor. Fuck. I’m horny too. Take off your pants—“

You scowl. “Jungkook—“ A knock on the door interrupts your jab at Jungkook.

“Did you lock the door?”

“No, I thought you did?”

It swings open and your biggest enemy stands in the threshold, in that skimpy dress she calls a nightgown (it’s too skintight to be one) with her hair looped up in a bun. Candidly speaking, Jungkook thinks Horny Hyunae is hot.

But being wholeheartedly honest, he’d rather watch you in those scrubs at the hospital, clipboard in hand with a stray piece of hair blocking your face. Now that is what Jungkook calls supertastic, amazingly hot.

“Cuzzo! You should’ve greeted me earlier!” Hyunae says, but her response is like through a clenched jaw, almost irritated immediately in her presence. “Would’ve been better if the child of the house greeted her guests.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

She sucks in her cheeks, but the instant her eyes land on Jungkook, a lightbulb appears above her head. “Oh, uh, and who is this?”

Jungkook promptly gets up from his seat, and his swiftness has your blood boiling. He’s been acting so different since the two of you got here, being especially nice, and you’re not even sure you like this side of him. It feels like a detachment of Jungkook, like you’re asking him to be something he’s not.

Extending his hand with a signature bright grin, he gives her a firm shake. “Jeon Jungkook. Your “cuzzo’s” boyfriend.”

Horny Hyunae scoffs, brows raised with a look of disbelief. “Boyfriend. What about that ‘independent woman’ journey you were always talking about? Made your mom all pissy and upset because you told her you weren’t looking to settle down any time soon. Is Jungkook here just to pretend that you have a relationship so she’d get off your back?”

“Why does everyone think that?” The same question popped into Jungkook’s head. “Do you think I’m incapable of finding someone who likes me?”

“Oh please. If you really cared about your relationship with this hottie, you wouldn’t be trying to start a cat fight with me here, right in front of him. Are you not worried about what he thinks about you?”

She doesn’t deserve to know the nature of yours and Jungkook’s relationship—the constant pining that’s been happening recently, the fact that he’s the one that willingly chose to come here with you, and that the moment you mentioned you wanted something more with anyone that doesn’t have to be him, Jungkook wanted to take things to the next level.

Hyunae thinks you don’t have worth. (But enough to try competing with you, it seems).

“I’m… okay with this. Kinda like how fierce she’s getting, if anything, it’s kinda hot.” Your nose scrunches up at the wording of his response, but Jungkook is Jungkook, so his intentions are good but his execution is terrible. “Plus, we’re all human. She’s allowed to change her mind. If she decides that she wants to settle now, something different from the route she wanted before, it should be fine.”

That is not what Jungkook said to you the past few conversations you had about breaking off your relationship. He’d been adamant about advocating for the life without marriage and kids, without the whole single home with that stupid white picket fence you keep talking about. Why is it suddenly that he’s making it sound like he’s been supportive of your goals the entire time?

“Mmm, I guess,” she states calmly, but only because it’s toward Jungkook. “Well, then I’ll leave the two of you friends to get ready for dinner.” With that, she leaves with a slam of the door and you’re nearly pulling out your hair at the thought of seeing her again.

“She’s fucking insane.”

“Why does everyone think that we’re in a fake relationship?” He asks, tilting his head. “Like, you’re fucking smokin’ hot. Hell, I’ll even make a baby with you if you want.”

The two of you freeze.

“I mean—”

“I’m gonna forget you said that.”

Was… fucking Horny Hyunae making a move on your boyfriend right now? Or sorta boyfriend. Whatever the fuck Jungkook was to you.

Clicking your tongue tempestuously, you shoved your hands into the pockets of your leather jacket. This bitch has gotten bolder, you think, because despite the many guys she’s attempted to snag from your other cousins and family members, the fact that she’s stepping on your toes again means she’s testing you on purpose. The glint in her eyes when she glances over at you, that slight smirk that pulls on her lips and that obnoxious hair flip off the shoulder while batting her lashes are only proof of it.

She likes the competition. And you’re the only one in the family that’s a worthy enough candidate.

Nonetheless, this is a personal test. Would Jungkook break whatever this is that you have going on just to get a quick smash from Hyunae, or did he genuinely mean it when he said he wanted to go for this?

But at the same time, you don’t want to think so lowly of him. He’s been acting… disparate, in comparison to his usual blunt and disgusting comments, even though they do slip from time to time, often targeting your figure and how good you are in bed, he’s opted for kinder and gentler words, and even… comforting you when you need someone? Who was he and what did he do to the Jungkook you met in the city?

“So, Jungkook, what do you do in your free time?” She asks, twirling a piece of her hair, doe eyes while standing in the middle of the living room with your somewhat-boyfriend.

“Uh, my friend is an artist, so sometimes I attend his events. I like his work so, I sometimes incorporate it into mine—” Hyunae doesn’t even let Jungkook finish before she’s grabbing his arm, pushing his sleeves up to admire the tattoos that decorate his arm.

“And what about these?”

Jungkook quirks a brow. “What about them?”

“Tell me about them. What are these tattoos, Gukkie?” Gross, did you almost vomit in your mouth?

“Uh,” he slid her hand off his arm, rubbing his nape awkwardly. “Jungkook is fine, I’m not really cool with that nickname. They’re just tattoos I like, nothing more, nothing less,” he replies, lying through his gritted teeth. “Thought a sleeve would look cool on me.”

“But my cuzzo calls you Gukkie,” she pouts, shoulders dropping. She made that off the top of her head—you’ve never called him Guk or Gukkie since you’ve gotten here.

“She actually calls me Guk, but only when she’s feeling nice.”

Hyunae rolls her eyes, dramatically throwing herself off. “See what I mean? She’s such a bitch. She leaves home for college, decides to be a doctor so she’s gone for years, argues with her mother about not getting married and how she’s supposed to just take care of herself and brings you here! Just to get us all off her back. I’m sorry, Gukkie, that she’s put you through all that, but we see right through those lies and me and you could be a thing.”

“Ho-” He almost says ‘horny’ because you say it so frequently, “Hyunae, I appreciate what you’re getting at here, but I think I’m set. I came here for her, in case you forgot, and the whole point of this trip was for her to give me a shot, to show her that she doesn’t need to settle with the other dudes when she’s got me.”

That was… kind of nice to hear.

Actually, it’s more than nice.

In fact, it’s so goddamn night that you reward him. You even let him be vocal this time; with your parents bedroom across the house and sharing a wall with Hyunae, what’s better than fucking hard enough that your bed creaks, the frame slamming against the wall, and the delicious whimpers escaping from Jungkook that are all for you.

“How was the blowjob earlier, baby?” You’re teasing, grabbing his chin in between your fingers so he’d lock his eyes with yours. Your wet, bare pussy is rubbing against his dick that sits predominantly against his stomach, tip red and angry, begging to be in you again. “Did you enjoy it?”

“I did, that was, until you decided it’d be better to let go before I could finish,” he shoots you a look, and you don’t hesitate to replicate it. “Hurry up, I’m fucking horny. I’ve been wanting it since I got myself all worked up earlier, talking about how hot you are, and how you’re a doctor—” his dick twitches at the thought again, “—fuck, you’d look so good with your scrubs pulled down below you ass, bent over in that new office of yours and—oh, fuck, baby, we gotta do it sometime.”

You’re not gonna lie. The thought has been planted in your head before.

Pressing your forehead against his, lips brushing over his own, your hand reaches down below to align yourself at his tip, slowly sinking down and grinding your hips against his.

“Oh, fuck, finally,” he says in relief, like he’s the luckiest guy in the world to be stuff deep inside of you. He likes being in control, without a doubt, and when he was with other girls, he always found himself having to be the dominant one. He had to top, have these girls faces dug into the sheets, ass up with his hands groping them, but something about you has him entranced by the way you look with the streetlights from outside peer into the window, shining on your sweaty, shiny naked smooth skin, and face full of pleasure all because of him.

“Can I go harder?” Do you even have to ask? He nods wearily; the feelings that seem to linger all around him is suffocating, like he’s full of something more blissful than sex. And when you get on your knees, hands flat against his chest before fervently moving your hips, it’s like the breath is being sucked from his lungs. Jungkook lets out the softest groan, but it’s not good enough for you, it seems, because you dip your head close to the side of his, whispering a gentle command. “Louder, baby.”

The bed squeaks and thuds against the wall behind it with each movement; Jungkook’s hand has a grip on your hips, desperately wanting to go faster but he loves seeing you here, on top of him, and in basic words—putting him in his place.

It’s almost like you read his mind, or that he’s gotten lucky that you’re a exhausted after a long day despite being excited enough to start off sex, but there’s that signal you give him, a kiss on the nose, and he’s already flipping you over on the bed.

“Let’s show Horny Hyunae that we’re definitely not in a fake relationship.”

← previous chapter || next chapter →​​

#jungkook smut #jungkook #bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #bts smut #bts fanfic #gyukultfics #i don't know what to tag anymore #i've given up #help #SEND HELP

[realcube]

TELLING THE BNHA BOYS YOU WANT TO SIT ON THEIR FACE | hcs + drabble

navi | masterlist | taglist 

thank you to anon for this request <3

characters ♡ kaminari, bakugo, sero & tamaki

content warning ♡ sexual references, fem!reader, all aged up! - minors dni

denki kaminari 

♡ it depends how confidently you say it 

♡ if you’re clearly embarrassed, he’ll be too

♡ but if you own your statement, it’ll prompt him to be more self-assured and forward 

♡ so he’ll either by completely red in the face and tell you to stop messing with him, or his lips will curl into a suggestive smirk as he encourages to act on your claim 

♡ also if you’re not really the type of person who talks about sexual acts too often or casually, he’ll pop a hard-on 

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥ 

he was lazily sprawled out across the two-seated couch, his legs lay were you were going to sit and it took every bone in your body to resist the urge to just yank his legs away yourself, since you had been training all day so your legs were in agony, all you wanted to do was sit down and relax. but he prevented you from doing that, so you finally spoke up, “denki, could you move your legs, please?”

kaminari looked up from his phone to see you pouting, bags in hand as you waited for him to let you take a seat. he was feeling especially mischievous today so instead of just retracting his legs like he usually would, he shrugged and hummed, “eh, no. the floor looks comfy though. maybe try that.” 

you scoffed, dropping your bags and hastily wrapping your hands around his ankles before aggressively tugging on them, “move it! you’re stupid fucking face looks comfy!”

he froze, staring at you with wide eyes but you continued to pull at his legs as you had yet to process what you just said as you meant in more as trash-talk rather in a sexual way. 

suddenly, he flipped his position so he way now laying down on his back, his head resting on the seat you were trying to obtain as he stared up at you with starry eyes, “sit, then!”

katsuki bakugo

♡ goes red in embarrassment, anger and horny 

♡ at first he yells about how immature you are but then his mindless threats begin to turn more..erotic?

♡ he’s like ‘fucking do it then! sit on my face! i fucking dare you! don’t be a pussy! do it!’

♡ and you kinda just stand there like ??? is he being serious ???

♡ he was being dead serious 

♡ he can’t have anyone knowing that he wants you but he does want you so he shows it through anger and hopes that you are aroused rather than frightened

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥ 

you walked into the theatre by bakugo’s side, not as his date or anything - definitely not - but because he had ‘accidentally’ bought an extra ticket for a movie that you had been talking to your co-workers at the agency about and now that you thought about it, you recalled that bakugo was in ear-shot of the conversation while he was making his coffee in the lounge. 

anyway, the movie had yet to begin but most who were seated remained silent as they watched the trailers. he glanced at you before shifting his gaze onto all the rows of seats in front of y���all, “where do ya want to sit?” he mumbled, casually popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth. 

he simply asked just in case you had a preferred location or an eye-sight problem that he was unaware of so you almost made him choke on his corn when you replied with a click of your tongue, “your face.”

once he coughed up the kernel lodged in this esophagus, he turned to shoot you a deadly glare, “what the fuck?!” 

afraid that you might have made him uncomfortable, you threw you hands up in defence and hastily tried to change the subject before he created a scene in the middle of the silent theatre, “sorry! i just meant it as a joke- erm, sitting at the back would be nic--”

before you could finish, bakugo grabbed you by the collar and dragged you out of the room, towards the cinema bathroom and..you know what happens next. 

hanta sero

♡ probably incited you to say it lol

♡ he’s like ‘aight bet’

♡ you should know better than to try tease this man bc he is going to make you follow up

♡ not forcefully, but he becomes so racy that it’s hard for you to not just..take a seat :)

♡ he doesn’t get flustered bc he’s too cool for that (⌐■_■)

♡ also he’s horny asf all the time so even if he’s literally never talked to you before, he’ll immediately be escorting you to an area where y’all can be in private

♡ after he’s made you cum for like the fifth time he’ll be like ‘so what’s your name? :)’

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥ 

friendly banter was something you should’ve learned to avoid. from when bakugo chased you around the school after you made a comment about deku being number one, to when iida gave you a 20 minute lecture when he heard you joke about skipping class - jesting with your friends never ended well for you so why did you think today was any exception?

though those things were in past, you had moved on; you had gotten a fresh new job at a new agency along with an old classmate of yours who you’ve since gotten closer to - pro-hero cellophane. 

you were casually chatting to him in the break-room, making friendly conversation with him as you had deduced that your bad luck with banter was exact that, bad luck - hardly anything that can’t be avoided, or so you thought. 

“exactly!” sero nodded, agreeing with the comment you made on internships, “my mentor kept making me go on these elaborate missions with them but seriously, i was just there to get a recommendation letter, save some people, have a hot hero-girl sit on my face then dip, y’know?” 

you chuckled, prompting him to continue, “well, did it work?”

“i got my recommendation letter but unfortunately, no hot hero-girls sat on my face.” he explained, he taking a sip of his coffee before eyeing you, his frown slowly curling into a titillating smirk, “you could change that, though.”

your eyes widened, but you were somewhat mentally prepared for him to say that so you were quick to blurt out, “yes please.”

tamaki amajiki

♡ he doesn’t get what you mean at first-

♡ like he thought it was a threat..or maybe you were making fun of him

♡ you, mirio or nejire have to explain to him what it means

♡ then he passes away ⚰

♡ like mans is blushing so hard 

♡ he can’t look you in the eye for 3 months after that 

♡ it’s not that you made him uncomfortable or anything, he just gets like that around the subject of intercourse

♡ if he ever starts talking to you again, you know better than to ever make a dirty joke around him again

♡ but when y’all start dating - maybe a year into the relationship - he’ll randomly turn to you one day and be like ‘remember that joke you made over a year ago about sitting on my face? yeah, that one. do you think you could maybe like..do it? like right now, please? 👉👈’

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥ 

you sat on the bed beside tamaki, absentmindedly scrolling through your phone as he played animal crossing next to you, on his switch. you were looking through pinterest for date ideas as your one year anniversary with tamaki was fast approaching and you wanted it to be special. 

you opened a picture of a couple at the arcade, looking as though they were having a fun time so your natural instinct was to ask tamaki i he was down, “baby, what do you think about the arca--”

“(y/n).” he interjected with a shakily, “um, remember that time we partnered up for a chemistry project?”

you giggled, no clue as to where he was going with this but humming along, none the less, “yep, i do! that was a while ago though, tama.”

amajiki nodded, awkwardly averting his gaze, his cheeks visibly flushing red as he recalled the events that happened - he couldn’t believe he was bringing this up again, after he tried for so long suppress the memory. but currently, his need to hear your sweet moans overwhelmed his shyness, “do you remember the joke you made?”

you hummed in thought for a moment before it hit you. you peered at his with an eyebrow quirked, mentally questioning if you were remembering it correctly. “um, yes.”

“well, can you?”

“can i what?”

tamaki frowned, before leaning in and whispering his scandalous request - he didn’t want to say this aloud but desperate times call for desperate measures. “sit on my face.”

#bnha smut #sero smut #kaminari smut #tamaki smut #bakugo smut #bakugo x female reader #bakugou headcanons #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou x you #kaminaridenki #bnha kaminari #kaminari x you #kaminari x y/n #bnha sero #sero x reader #sero x you #mha hanta sero #hanta sero #hanta smut #tamaki x reader #tamaki x y/n #tamaki amakiji #bnha amajiki #amajiki headcanons #amajiki x you #awkward amajiki #amajiki x y/n #👾nsfw

[angelguk]

omg so i sent in an ask re angst jock jk n oc ! but then i also realized its highly possible these 2 break up at one point while in uni mostly bc of the "are we dating bc its convenient" kinda dilemma and then it just pushes them apart bc they think theyre losing theirselves while being in such a close relationship,,,cue save ur tears by theweeknd BUT i just know when they grow up a lil bit more, theyll end up together <3

here we go! (the beginning of the end....may be...)

didn’t include save your tears as the soundtrack but may haps for the follow-up :3

pairing: jock!jk and oc

warnings: angst, yes the break-up scene, jaykay being an ass (a very huge one motivated by his own insecurities and selfishness – translation: he’d rather break her heart and carry that weight than be the heartbroken one), chayoung is no longer Seed of Doubt but something else (still up for debate but she’s fairly nice here), not edited but hey atp that’s part of my branding (also i would like everyone to consider that oc is not the greatest gf ever like guys don’t hate jk alone!!)

soundtrack: bags, clairo + stay, gracie abrams + say you know, alina baraz

(titled — honeymoon fades)

Jeongguk’s contact name hasn’t lit up the screen of your phone for six days now and you haven’t seen his face for just as long. It’s weird to go from constant incessant  communication to complete and utter radio silence. Not a single meme deposited in your Instagram inbox, no random notification from his Twitter. Just silence, quiet brewing silence. 

It breaks two days later when Chayoung finds you coddled under your duvet, mouth stuffed with the saccharine sweetness of mint chocolate. (Jeongguk kept a stash of it at your place but who was around to eat it anymore apart from you?). 

“And why do you look like you live in a dumpster?” She’d hummed, ripping open the curtains you’d involuntarily welded shut. 

“Because that’s how I feel inside,” you’d retorted, pushing aside your laptop. The screen is stuck with an image of an idiotic character named Nabi kissing the spawn of Satan. You hope for her sake it works out. Chayoung had huffed at your response, fondly whacking your head with a stray pillow. 

“Well get over that feeling cause we’re going out tonight.” A declaration, the fierceness in her feline eyes a warning that you’re not allowed to even think of saying no. That doesn’t mean you hadn’t tried – sorrowful eyes and pouted lips as you begged her to spare you. But Chayoung is a force of nature, one that could easily wreak havoc on your delicateness. And she does though, with a string of comments that propels you out of the miserable burrow you’d dug up. 

“You’re killing everyone, you know?” She’d supplied, yanking open your closet. “You’re sulking, Jeongguk is shutting down. He’s said like five words since this whole...thing...you have going on.” 

You couldn’t help but scoff at that, toying with the corner of the large grey shirt donned on your body. Jeongguk’s shirt. One of his favourites actually. You’d thought about stealing it after spying it on his obsessively neat laundry pile, but after seeing your wandering eyes he’d given it to you instead. 

“He always does that,” you’d said after Chayoung had whipped her head in your direction, curved eyebrows perplexed. “I mean, shut down. It’s his emotional response to things that bother him. Complete detachment so it hurts less.”

She had just stared at you, a long meaningful look at left your skin prickled. 

“Huh.”

“What do you mean ‘huh’?”

A measured step forward, her body weight sinking into the edge of your mattress a moment later. “I mean, you know him so well.”

“Of course I do he’s my best-friend,” you’d said, indignation coating your words

“No–No you're not getting me. You know him. You know he wouldn’t make the move to reconcile–”

“But he should!”

“You told him to go away! He’s trying to listen to you even though he’s hurting!”

And maybe that was it, that simple implication that you were causing him pain that had you pausing, reviewing the things you’d said to him – the things you’d felt. 

“But,” a timid rebuttal, “I just–I just need him to show me that he cares.”

“He does,” Chayoung had returned. “So much. And he misses you. He’s probably just afraid that you don’t feel the same.”

“But I do! He knows this.”

“Does he?” A question in her eyes, one that you’re afraid you know the honest answer to. 

You say things and never mean them, he had said, eyes hard.

That had hurt you but perhaps he was right, there are things you hadn’t told him, feelings you hadn’t truly expressed. And Jeongguk had always been good to you, so understanding and caring, trying to fill the places were you lacked. Wasn’t he the one who planned the majority of your dates? Remembered all the important milestones of your relationship while you contributed the bare minimum. You hadn’t even told Chayoung about the surprise he had planned for your one-year anniversary, the shame of your own choice hanging heavy over your head. 

So that’s why you’re here, staring at the back of his head forlornly as the music drifts around you, flashing florescent lights bathing him a hazy glory. He hasn’t seen you yet (something you’re thankful for because oddly enough you feel sick to your stomach). It feels like you’re skating on thin ice, waiting for the impending crack to sound through your heart, ice water swallowing you whole immediately. Chayoung is the one who pushes you forward, gingerly plucking the idle drink from your hand, Jimin aiding her efforts with a soft smile your way. 

It’s time for you to try the way Jeongguk has, put aside that bumbling ego that oversees your actions and adopt the humility he’s always granted you.

“Go,” she murmurs. “He misses you.”

And God you hope he does because you’ve missed him too. 

Except the moment his honey eyes land on you you know he hasn’t.

“Jeongguk,” you mumble. Yoonoh is frozen beside him, concerned gaze flicking between your faces. Your own eyes are stuck on him, the shape of his nose, the curve of his lips, the subtle hint of the dimple in his cheeks. 

You’ve missed him, and it slips from your heart and brims in your eyes, vision blurry as your blink those stray tears back inside. 

“Hi,” you add, when his silence doesn’t break.

“I should probably go,” Yoonoh lets out, awkward words bumping into the wall of tension standing firm between you to. He settles a hand on Jeongguk’s shoulder, sending him a look that feels loaded. “See you guys later, right?”

You nod, finally noticing the lump clogging your throat. “Yeah, sure.” Jeongguk just hums, the edge of his cup caught between his lips. Yoonoh flees within seconds, leaving you to wade through this alone. 

“I–I know you’re not happy with me right now, but please, can we just talk?” He blinks at you, it feels like a premonition. “Please?”

“Okay.” The simple word fills you, like a hollow you weren’t aware of finally found the cure needed. 

“Okay,” a small smile on your lips. Jeongguk’s face is still unreadable. He guides you up and away from the deafening sound of the song bleeding from the speakers, into an empty room, the door closing behind him muting the music and giving way to the own pounding in your head. Nobody says anything for a second, both of you navigating this uncharted territory of animosity. Until Jeongguk sighs, melting into the bed at the centre of the room. You follow suit, allocating enough space between the two of you. You’ve ever had to do that before.

“You said you wanted to talk?” Jeongguk finally cuts through it, eyes unforgiving when he glances at you.

“I did! I do–Just Jeongguk,” you can’t help it drifting out. “I miss you.”

Nothing, not even a flicker in his eyes. He eyes shift to the floor instead. “Okay. I that what you wanted to say?”

“No–No not just that! I’ve missed you Jeongguk and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that i went off on you like that and I’m sorry I haven’t been the best towards you and I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel like I didn’t care about you–or made you feel like the things I said or did had no meaning behind them. Because they do–they do because I love you. I love you so so much and I’m sorry if I made it seem like otherwise.” You automatically extend out for him, hoping to grasp on his thing floating to fast away from you. Jeongguk shifts and you hand tumbles down to the empty space between you instead, halted by his hesitance. 

His head drops into his palms a second later, a broken exhale leaving his lips. The motion cause the silver bracelet on his wrist to slip down the length of his arm. It jolts something in you. Jeongguk had given you a matching one but you’d ripped it off after the last argument and hadn’t considered putting it back on. But Jeongguk was still wearing his. 

“Do you really?”

“What?” He’s staring at you know, doe eyes cloudy.

“Do you really love me?” There, that stupid evil vile question that you thought you had the answer to but the words vanish in your head the longer he looks at you.

“I do–what? What are you implying? Of course, I do.”

“Of course, you do,” Jeongguk echoes. His eyes turn to the window located over his shoulder. You can see his head working through something, and you’re suddenly terrified fingertips itching to wander through his curls and coax those thoughts from his head. 

“Jeongguk? What the hell are you talking about? Talk to me, please.”

He sighs again, at it feels like your heart splinters. A sudden shake of his head and Jeongguk twists back to face you, a silent tear falling down his cheek.

“You don’t love me.”

“Wh–What are you talking about? I do! And how can you decide my feelings for me?”

“No. You don’t love me the way you think you do–the way you should.” It feels like he’s saying it to more than you, like he’s saying it to himself. “Maybe this the wrong choice to make. You know. Maybe we shouldn’t have done this.”

You shatter just like that, shards on the floor as you stare him, this person that you thought you knew. And maybe the feeling is mutual because Jeongguk is staring at you in a similar way, searching for the courage to say the words you know lie in his heart. Like a loaded cannon, waiting for the match to strike and leave you lying in pieces. 

“I think we should break–"

“No,” you cut him off with an adamance that you didn’t know existed until right then. “No, you’re not gonna say that and we are not doing this.”

His eyes narrow then, jaw set. “This is not about ‘us’, I’m doing what’s right for me.”

“How is that right? Huh, Jeongguk? Don’t you care about this? Don’t you care about me?”

He looks away then, ignoring your questions, his throat stuck. 

“Jeongguk...” You reach out again, and he allows it, shoulders sinking with the weight of your hand on them. “Don’t you care about me?”

Another heavy exhale, his eyes blinking hard. “I do. And that’s why this won’t work, not the way it should at least. I really think we should end this, or at least reconsider the reasons why we’re together. You say you love me–you say you always have but really–really think about it. About me and us and what we are. I’m sorry, I really am but I just can’t do this anymore.”

He rises then, your outstretched hand tumbling down to the empty space he’d left behind. You can’t move it, can’t breathe, your heart hurtling out of your chest and onto the ground where it lies, fragmented beyond repair and bleeding bare. You glance up through tears, watch him open his mouth and then it and look away. 

“Do you mean it?” You finally ask, and his eyes snap to you. He knows what you’re saying. There’s a pause that stretches out for eternity, coloured by the sound of the ringing in your head.

“Maybe.” It cuts right through you, lodging itself deep with intent. And then you just have to nod, swallow the scream clawing at your throat. He murmurs one more apology before his feet carry him away, and you watch, forlorn as you burn his frame into your memory, as your whole world walks out the door.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #au: jock!jaykay #i really abused the hyphen in this but oh well

[asteroshearts]

[Actor!AU] Relationship HCs

[Levi + Eren] 

Levi Ackerman: 

Even though he still has his RBF off-screen he’s a hell of a lot nicer than people think he is. 

Probably asked Eren if he was okay several times before and after the trial scene. 

They used one of your tweets that read, “I want Levi to break my back like a glowstick” during those “____ reads thirst tweets” videos and his face immediately became full-on red when he saw your @. 

I mean, he was blushing before, but when he saw that it was you he jokingly says, “I had no idea they posted this... Why are you like this. If you wanted me to break your back you could’ve just asked me to my face.” 

Great with puppies, kittens, children, and other infantile creatures. If he’s carrying a bouquet during an event or something and a kid comes up to him, he’ll give them a flower. 

“Levi Plays With Puppies While Answering Fan Questions” probably got over a million views in less than half an hour. 

NO ONE DOES BUSINESS CASUAL BETTER THAN HE DOES!! 

People probably take more pictures of you two at the front row seats of fashion shows more than the models themselves. 

Probably has the Rihanna Effect™ where he’ll wear something that looks bad on the OG model on the runway, but once he wears it, it’s suddenly fashionable. 

Speaking of Rihanna he’s probably in a random music video of hers like Mads Mikkelsen in “Bitch Better Have My Money.” 

HE’S STILL AN ACTS OF SERVICE MAN THROUGH AND THROUGH. 

On one hand he does expected “gentleman” things like opening doors for you, closing your car door after you, holding your bags, etc. 

On the other hand he goes to the extreme. 

If he’s not filming something or busy, he’s by your side doing all of the jobs your assistant is supposed to do. 

The directors and cameramen are looking around being like, “Where’s our Important Character Levi” when they need to shoot scenes, but if they find you they’ll just see him following you around, holding an umbrella over your head in one hand and holding your coffee in the other. 

When they first saw it everyone was like...couldn’t you find someone else...that’s not an extremely important cast member to do that... but it’s just Levi, he insists on doing it himself. Your assistant has the easiest job in the world because he elevates all of their jobs for them. 

CAREFULLY HOLDS THE TRAIN OF YOUR DRESS ON RED CARPETS 

When your hair gets tousled or locks fall over your face during filming or photoshoots, the cameramen will point it out, but before any of the hair or makeup people manage to get to you, Levi will just ;; walk over and fix it himself. The two of you probably have the softest smiles at that moment when he’s carefully brushing your hair out of your face. 

Isn’t in a lot of roles. He definitely gets offered a whole bunch of roles!! but especially when you two started dating, he told himself that he didn’t want you guys to crash and burn like many other celebrity couples since they normally spend a lot of time apart and are usually thousands of miles away from each other. When he’s not filming AOT, he tends to take a break from acting and go with you to your jobs. 

However, if he does find himself in a role that he wants to do, he’ll definitely appreciate it if you reciprocate, but doesn’t expect nor force you to. 

Instead he’ll leave your assistant with a long-ass list of how you like your coffee, what you like to eat after a long day of filming, how to approach you when you’re stressed, etc because this man has been doing your assistant’s job the entire time asdfghj 

The only time he’s gently smiling in paparazzi photos is when he’s with you, other than that he looks angry or bored. Like he’ll be at a beautiful beach party with Erwin and Hange but he’s just sitting in the shade with a drink in one hand looking inconvenienced. 

Eren Jaeger: 

OKAY 

There’s this one video of Dylan Sprouse putting his hand on his heart like it’s the national anthem or something when Barbra Palvin walks by on the runway AND THAT’S EXACTLY EREN 

When he sees you walk by either on a modeling gig or on the red carpet this man just stops ,,, and immediately stares and puts his hand on his heart like he’s seen Jesus. 

ALSO does anyone know that one video of the dude tripping over his words when he tries to talk to Jhene Aiko during an interview. 

When you and Eren first met he had to bring Armin as a translator because he was never able to get a straight sentence out in your presence. 

He was legitimately stunned stupid when he saw all of your red carpet looks or interview looks when you two were still new friends during S1 or something. 

follows Ere[Name] ship accounts on twitter and your stan accounts. 

Why do you even have a publicist. He’s your personal hypeman. Sometimes people get confused when they go to his official instagram bc it’s just pictures of you, him promoting your stuff, or really grainy, desaturated pictures of you two doing dumb things together like doing the JOJO Torture Dance together on an empty street at 3AM. These are interspersed with pictures of him when he has to promote something that’s like in his contract. 

When he posts pictures or stories that doesn’t have you in it, the comments are all, “Where’s [Name].” 

When little kids come up to him during panels or out on the street he’ll get jokingly concerned that they’re watching AOT. Like, “Y-You watch the series?? Do your parents know? Is it too scary for you?” 

Tries to make you laugh by pulling funny faces where the camera can’t see him. 

If you mess up on your line, he’ll immediately build on that and goof off with you, resulting in the two of you getting yelled at. 

Quality time is one of his love languages, so like Levi, your managers will work together to make sure your schedules work with each other. 

Sometimes when you have other roles outside of AOT, you might catch him as some regular extra in the background. 

It can’t be helped if sessions go on for too long sometimes, but if it becomes a reoccurring thing due to unorganized sets, he’ll fight with the director and crew to get a break since it’s important for everyone to get some rest. 

If your character is shipped with some character That’s Not Him, the directors know not to show his face during kiss scenes or romantic scenes because he’ll legitimately break character and pout or become so stone faced that he can’t emote at all. 

This Academy Award winning actor will just go 🧍 on the sidelines while you’re trying to kiss Jean for a scene but his stare is burning on the side of your head. 

Eren to Jimmy Fallon or something, “I guess Jean and [Name] are cute but it would be better if it was Ere[Name]. No, no I’m not complaining or anything...” 

GAVE HIS EVERYTHING TO ATTACK ON TITAN JUNIOR HIGH. 

Begged the writers to have more Ere[Name] content in Junior High.

If they let him direct an episode of AOT he will film it like Parks and Rec or The Office.  

[Eren: commits war crimes 

Camera: swerves and zooms in on your face grimacing and Levi’s dead expression while he stares right at the camera.] 

People probably know that they can’t interview him/force him to do lives after shooting because his voice is gone after all that shouting as Eren Jaeger. 

Has a Dan-Emma-Rupert relationship with Mikasa and Armin. He legitimately sees them as siblings even off-set. 

#levi x reader #levi headcanons #eren jeager x reader #eren headcanons #eren x reader #eren #levi #snk #aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman #eren jaeger #eren yeager #aot headcanons #aot x reader #snk headcanons #snk x reader #levi x y/n #eren x y/n

[fangurk]

She’s Always There (Paul Lahote x Reader)

Key:

Y/n: Your Name

Y/l/n: Your Last Name

Y/n/n: Your Nickname

Y/e/c: Your Eye Color

Y/h/c: Your Hair Color

Prompt Given To Me By @ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhghhhh.tumblr.com: hey!! so the reason I'm messaging is because I wanted to request something but can't fit it all into an ask lmao. anyways could i please request a Paul Lahote x reader where the reader has been super close to the whole pack for years and has been Paul's imprint but doesn't know it (bc Sam thought it would be best to keep u away from it all) and they decide to finally tell you about being shapeshifters and being Paul's imprint and you're so mad about them not telling u earlier and there's a huge argument and they and Paul tries to calm you down but you say stuff like 'leave me alone' and things like that and it sounds like you're rejecting him/the bond in ur angry breakdown. anyways Paul is heartbroken and can't get out of bed or eat or anything so the guys finally convince you to come back bc they and Paul need you and it's just the reader cuddling with him and getting him out of bed to take a shower and eat and he realizes that you're not going anywhere and it's just like healing the imprint bond? sorry for this WALL of text, I've just had this idea stuck in my head for a while lol. if you don't want to do it, that's completely fine!! thank you for your time ♡

ok so my guy,, bc this fic has been stuck in my head for a bit, some scenes have developed? so idk i hope this isn't too much, but if u do write it, would u be willing to add like some angst to it, obvi, and maybe a scene/part lol where when the reader tries to get him to shower (bc the misinterpreted rejection made him like super depressed and he just felt low about himself) he won't shower, because he doesn't want to come out and the reader is gone. so either they shower together (not smutty just angst&fluff) or she sits like in the bathroom while he showers LOL. and when he feels a bit better, they go down to eat and he's touching some part of her at all times. if this is too much to like,, include then that's a-okay. i just need to get this OUT of my MIND ugh lmao!/!

Reader Gender: Female

Summary: The Reader has been friends with most of the pack members for her whole life. Which is why, after months of silence and strange changes, she was willing to let them back into her life— until she finds out she’s been told lies that leave her in danger, of course. After a big freak out and two weeks of avoiding them, the boys come begging for her help; it turns out that Paul has some wolf-y claim on her, and whatever she said to him has left him worse for wear...

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Nudity, Angst, and Cursing.

A/n: this is literally like a whole novel I’m so sorry I got carried away. this is kinda based on a lot of fics I read where the imprint has the potential to really hurt people and I named Paul’s dad.

Word Count: 2.9k+

“The legends are real!?”

Y/n Y/l/n hasn’t ever been so disturbed in her entire life.

After weeks of radio silence, Sam Uley’s little ‘gang’, mostly consisting of people she’d known since childhood, had slowly trickled back into her life. What started as a grocery run with Paul or a movie with Jared had turned into big bonfire parties including Jacob Black and his gaggle.

But that was months ago. Months. And now, as she sits by a fire, surrounded on either side by them, they decide to tell her their little secret?

“Y/n.” Sam says as she abruptly stands, eyes stern and hand raised placatingly.

His actions only served to upset her more and her skin bristles with irritation. Sam was acting as if she, a human surrounded by shape shifters, was the unstable one. As if she could do any damage to things built to kill vampires.

“Don’t you dare, Sam.” She clenches her fists, glaring right back at him. “It’s been months- months- and you’re telling me now?”

“It’s not exactly an easy thing to bring up.” He reasons, voice a little less demanding. “We all wanted to be sure that you were ready to know.”

“Ready?!” Y/n laughs mirthlessly, y/e/c eyes wide with disbelief, “When was I supposed to be ready Sam? W-when one of you gored me? When a cold one ripped me apart?”

Her hands shake as she puts them on her forehead, blinking back tears. Growing up all she’d ever heard were stories of humans getting dragged into fights between wolf and vampire, and she couldn’t bring herself to look Emily in the eye because it was suddenly apparent that wolves alone could hurt people too.

It was so bad, whatever happened to Emily, that they said a bear mauled her— Y/n didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“It’s not like that, Y/n/n.” Embry chimes in, reaching out to grab his friend's arm.

She yanks her body out of the way and gathers her belongings quickly.

“What is it like then, Call?” She holds her bag to her heaving chest, “because it seems to me that you all have the ability to turn into giant, slobbery freaks that are built for killing vampires and, after completely dropping me for weeks, you decided to keep it secret from me for months. Did it even occur to you that I would’ve been better off knowing right off the bat?!”

No one says anything. Eight shifters and two of their girlfriends sit there, just staring at her like she was speaking a different language.

“You know,” Y/n has to clear her throat to steady her wavering voice, “had you guys really been souped-up on drugs like everyone says, maybe I could’ve handled the lying. But my life was clearly potentially in danger, and you let me hang around without saying anything. I- God I don’t want to see you people right now.”

She leaves with that, stepping over logs and storming back down the beach with determination. Faintly over the roar of her heartbeat, she can hear someone scrambling to stand behind her.

“Wait!— shit, sorry-” Paul grunts, jogging to catch up with her- “Y/n-“

With an unusual gentleness, his warm hand wrapped around her forearm. For a moment, deep in the back of her mind, a foreign feeling tells her to stop, to listen; but that small voice is quickly smothered by the rational part of her brain, and she wrenches her arm from his grip.

“Don’t touch me!” She snaps, lowering her voice, “Leave me alone- I need to be alone.”

Paul stands there, dumbstruck, an unreadable look in his eyes as she walks away. And he’d continue to stand there, looking like a kicked puppy long after her retreating form became a blur amongst the darkness of the beach.

“Paul?” Sam is hesitant, hand hovering over the younger boy’s shoulder a minute before he touches him, “You okay?”

Shrugging his leader’s arm off his shoulder, Paul sighs. “No...I...I’m just gonna head home.”

Instead of going in the directions of the cars, the wolf stalks off toward the woods; Emily stands from her seat, wrapping her sweater more around herself as she watches Paul leave. Concern is written all over her features.

“He’ll be fine, Em,” He pulls her in for a hug, “it’ll all work out eventually.”

ஓ๑♡๑ஓ

Y/n does a good job of avoiding them for a while.

She turns her phone off a few days in and avoids going to First Beach, even when Washington gets a rare, warm summer feel. Books that have sat long forgotten on her shelves get read and TV shows she’s always meant to catch up on get watched; it’s boring and she runs out of options, at one point thinking of dying her hair y/f/c just to spice things up, but it allows her to think. (Or at least it allows this strange little voice in the back of her head to tell her that she needs to go back to them.)

The next time she sees any of the boys is exactly two weeks after the bonfire incident.

She’s curled up on her couch, picking at some of the Clearwaters’ fish fry and barely watching an episode of ANTM, when a fist comes banging down on her door. Turning off the TV, she tiptoes to the window, peeking under the curtain as carefully as she can.

As she expected, Jared Cameron and Embry Call are on her porch, the former standing in front of her door with his hip cocked, the other rooting around in her mother’s plants for something. Cringing, she hopes if she’s quiet enough that they’ll just go away.

Her front door opens within minutes, however, and she realizes her hoping is fruitless.

Should’ve known you can’t hide from wolves, she can’t help but think bitterly.

“Y/n?” Jared calls out through the house, “we know you’re here.”

“Yeah, and you guys should probably move your spare key,” Embry tacks on, flicking the light switch to the living room up, “I've known you forever and it’s still in the same place.”

From her spot by the window, the y/h/c haired girl glares at the two boys, arms crossed over her chest. Embry gives her a lopsided grin and holds the key out to her, his bud plopping down on the couch and pulling her abandoned plate into his lap.

Y/n extends a hand to take the key.

“Has it really been in the same place?” She sounds a little more defeated than she’d like.

“Yeah, it’s always been in your mother’s cornflower pot.”

“That’s...kinda sad.” She wrinkles her nose, pocketing the key with the intention to hide it better later, “but uh, I’ve been ignoring you for two weeks for a reason. Peacefully breaking into my house kinda furthers my need for space.”

Embry scratches the back of his neck.

“Well,” He says, “we need you to come back, man. Paul won’t talk to anyone- Sam doesn’t know if he’s eating, and he won’t even get out of bed for patrol! He needs his imprint-”

“His what?” She cocks her head to the side and Jared snorts from the couch.

“She left before we got there, nimrod,” Jared mocks through a mouthful of food, “she doesn’t know what an imprint is.”

He lets out an indignant “Hey!” as Y/n walks by, snatching her plate back from him on her way to the kitchen. Embry chases after her, a grumpy Jared jumping up from the couch to follow.

“You’re his imprint— you’re basically his soulmate!”

“Really?” She says warily, sealing the fish and putting it back in the fridge.

Both boys nod clumsily.

“You remember a few weeks ago when you saw each other for the first time again and he kinda just stood there like an idiot while you talked?”

“Yeah? Oh!-” She brings her hands up to her mouth, brows furrowed as she recalls.

It was exactly Jared had said. She and Paul had seen one another for the first time in a long time and the minute her y/e/c eyes looked into his, it was like he’d been struck dumb.

Embry gives her an encouraging look, “An imprint is...It's not like love at first sight, really. It's more like… gravity moves… suddenly. It's not the earth holding you here anymore, she does… You become whatever she needs you to be, whether that's a protector, or a lover, or a friend. When you snapped at him last week he thought you were rejecting him….”

A part of her thought about how absurd it was that he knew that whole speech. But the bigger part of her came to a realization that made her stomach churn.

���So he's all depressed… because… of me?” She whispers, leaning back on the counter.

Embry, always a rather sympathetic person, opens his mouth to comfort her, but Jared cuts him off.

“Basically. So are you going to come with us so we can help Paul or are you going to continue being petty?”

In any other circumstance, Y/n probably would’ve thrown something at her for calling her petty. She felt she was completely justified in her actions. A part of her wonders if she can really believe them— they’d spent months lying to her after all. But a larger part thinks about Paul, curled up in his bed, slowly desecrating because he thinks she rejected him.

If it were really all some ploy to get her to listen to them, then she’d at least be the person who chose the well-being of her friend over a petty disagreement.

“I’m coming.” She affirms, pushing herself off the counter, and letting the boys lead her to the car.

ஓ๑♡๑ஓ

Jared and Embry drop her off in front of the Lahote household. They tell her something but she can’t really hear them over her heartbeat, she doesn’t even know they’re gone until it’s too late to turn back.

Getting into the house wasn’t the hard part. Paul’s father, Cyrus, had been leaving as she arrived, and, after he watched her stare at the house with a fearful expression for a few minutes, he happily let her in. The hard part was willing her legs to take her up the stairs to Paul’s room, and then it was opening his bedroom door.

Y/n has known Paul since they were eight, but she was afraid of him until they were eleven. He wasn’t mean, per se, but his anger made him do mean things; she wasn’t entirely happy with puberty and it’s monthly gifts, but whatever it did to make her suddenly un-afraid of him she was grateful for. But now, standing in front of his bedroom door, she had a nagging fear that Paul would revert to that eight year old boy who threw lunch boxes and twisted arms behind backs until people cried.

The door creaks slightly as she struggles to push it open.

His room is almost completely dark except for the light coming from the hallway behind her. Trash and dirty clothes have formed a compact layer on his bedroom floor, foot sized holes leading up to the twin sized bed in the corner. On the bed, amongst the blankets she’s sure he doesn’t need, is Paul— or at least, a Paul sized lump.

As gross as it is, she’s kind of relieved he’s been eating.

“Paul?” She whispers tentatively, stepping toward the bed.

The lump flinches and turns toward her.

“Y/n?”

If the room and the description of his state weren’t heartbreaking enough, his voice definitely was. Hollow, rough, and small, everything it never was, everything Paul wasn’t.

“Is that you?”

“Yeah...it’s me..”

She carefully steps over to the bed, and Paul slowly sits up, pushing his blankets to the side. There’s a beat of silence as she stands between his legs, his reluctant hands coming to rest on her waist after a minute. Y/n let’s him have another to gather his thoughts.

“You really came…” Tears well up in his eyes and loops his arms around her back.

She runs a hand through his hair. “I did, and I’m so sorry, if I had known—”

Paul nuzzles her stomach, “S’fine, you didn’t know, and you’re here now.”

There’s a sort of cute, euphoria lacing his voice and he’s visibly much more relaxed.

“Just don’t ever say that again…”

“I won’t, I promise.”

She’s surprised when he manhandles her into his lap, but she doesn’t really mind. He’s warm and strangely familiar and something about it just— clicks.

“When was the last time you spent, I dunno, a minute or two out of your room?” Y/n asks softly, y/e/c eyes glancing about the room.

The shifter’s only response is a shrug, too busy nosing around her neck with vigor. When he finds a certain spot, it makes her squeak, and this seems to excite him like a puppy finding out its favorite toy makes noise.

“You need to bathe, eat something substantial,” She intertwines their fingers, “and the...pack...they’re really worried about you— are you even listening to me?”

He looks up at her then and flashes her a sheepish smile, answering her question. Pursing her lips, she pulls his arms from around her.

“C’mon, Paul.” She stands up and takes his hand. “We’re gonna get you cleaned up.”

She moves toward the door, urging him forward, only to be jerked to a stop as he stays put. He looks a little distressed when she turns back to him, brows furrowed, almost like he’s in pain.

“Paul?”

He grunts, jaw clenched as the cogs turn in his head. Y/n cocks her head and reaches out for his other hand. It felt like some sort of supernatural intuition, one she’ll blame on the imprint and ask Emily about later.

“Paul, hon, why won’t you come shower?”

“I’m afraid you'll leave,” He says bashfully, “it’s stupid, I know, but part of me is afraid you’ll leave while I’m in the shower.”

Y/n couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken at his confession. Paul was part wolf, and part of being part wolf was imprinting— she almost wishes she’d have stayed long enough to listen, or been able to focus as the boys debriefed her on the ride over because only being able to speculate how much she’d actually hurt him was eating her alive. He wouldn’t even shower, something he desperately needed to do, because of what she’d said.

Taking a deep breath, she barely registers the words she’s about to say.

“I’ll wait with you, I’ll sit on the toilet, you’ll see me there.”

And true to her word, Y/n does sit on the toilet while Paul showers, reading the information on soap bottles to distract herself from the fact that he was there next to her, very naked. Occasionally he asks her what she’s doing, and she reads the ingredients out loud to the best of her ability, and he laughs a little— she tries to hide her smile, but she was too happy he was laughing.

She closes her eyes when he gets out, letting him dry himself off and pull on some clean shorts. He throws the wet towel at her when he’s done, eliciting a “Hey!” that makes him laugh again.

Now that he’s clean, the two of them descend into his quiet house. Y/n navigates the kitchen, her wolf attached to her hip and being less than helpful, and makes them both something to eat— he doesn’t do much more than stand behind her, wrapped around her, making her life more difficult.

“I’m so happy you came back.” He says, watching her work.

“I was always going to.” Y/n responds, her voice sure and steady.

They talk as they eat, sitting across from one another at the too big table in the Lahote household. Talk about how this was going to work, admitting feelings that always lingered, and everything in between; she hooks her leg around his, watching him scarf down his meal with a wrinkled nose and fondness glittering in her y/e/c eyes.

He’s...gross...but he’s hers, she’s kind of stuck with him.

A date is planned. An actual date.

Paul promises to take her to the local diner (and to wear a shirt, for once.)

“I’ve been saving up for something like this.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and you can get that dessert you like.”

Y/n laughs softly, but heat spreads up her neck and settles in her ears and cheeks. It’d been a long time since that had been her favorite food, but it was the thought that counted...

When Cyrus Lahote returns from work later that night his son and the Y/l/n girl are awkwardly situated on his couch— him on his back, snoring, her lying on top of him, face tucked into his neck, also fast asleep. The older man turns off the TV and tosses a blanket over the pair, ascending up the stairs with a smile on his face.

Y/n Y/l/n was trustworthy. She’s always there when Paul is in a rut too big for him to handle...

#paul lahote #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote x reader #twilight wolf pack imagine #twilight wolf pack #twilight fanfiction #eclipse #twilight wolf imagines #embry call #jared cameron #sam uley

[1kook]

some way, some how

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

Summary: Maybe you don’t know Jungkook as well as you thought you did. Maybe he doesn’t know you. Warnings: emotional constipation, toxic ex, internalized misogyny, jk has bad experiences w/his ex’s dad, one scene where jk throws up, brief episode of panic, mentions of terminal cancer (minor); smut; fingering, praise kink, face fucking, spitting kink, cunnilingus, unprotected sex on top of a car im sorry Misc: autoshop owner!jk, businesswoman!oc, slice of life, childhood crushes, friends to lovers, ex gfs, pining, country bumpkin pjm w/crush on oblivious oc, ex-bf kth but it’s not real lol Wc: 19.4k (wow!!!)

the spirit of auto shop jk possessed me n next thing i knew i was 11k into a drabble. if ur curious: the 1975 corvette, car at the end, the tweed suitskirt (not actually chanel ☹️sowwyyy) also: this is the longest fic I've written!!!!! clap for me!!!!! i proofread the first few paragraphs n was like thats enough professionalism for the day

inspired by ain’t no mountain high enough one of my fave songs ever🥺 the title is a lyric from the song bc i love it so much enjoy !!

The garage is mostly dark when you enter, the faint hum of a radio quietly filtering through the stagnant room, its source coming from the back wall, where the only light is. It’s a rolling lamp, shining down an ugly yellow glow onto the figure of one man.

Jungkook’s sitting in that same rolling stool he always is, the metal one that’s rusted beyond repair, the cushion so uncomfortably flat. He’s caught up in whatever paint job he’s been tasked with this time around, a classic muscle car from what looks like the 80’s. He’s humming along to the radio, so caught up in stenciling out his design that he doesn’t notice you creep behind him until you’re very purposefully rattling the tool cart beside him, a teasing “boo!” making him jump.

“Fuck, you scared me,” he gasps, rubs over his chest as if to check if his heart is in fact still there. You grin, brandish your bag of takeout out for him before he can lecture you on the dangers of startling people who work around very complex machinery. Instead, all he says is, “you’re an angel.”

Once you’ve got the food carefully scattered across his work bench, your cherry cola tucked next to a canister of gasoline like that’s the safest practice, Jungkook wastes no time diving into all the details of his project, the 1975 Chevy Corvette behind him. The longer you look at it, the more you feel you’ve seen it somewhere. Probably a car show, you presume.

“Purrs like a kitten,” he sighs dreamily, completely ignoring the way half his toppings slide out from the opposite end of his cheeseburger. You don’t, and you swipe a fallen pickle from his tray before he can catch you.

“A kitten?” You ask, glance over at the car. It’s desperately in need of a paint job, and you only realize this now as you stare at it more in depthly. The niggling feeling that you know this car is still there, but you ignore it in favor of indulging your best friend. “Don’t people usually compare cars to bigger, better cats?”

There’s a taped stencil running alongside the car, a thick stripe followed by a thinner one, and you suppose Jungkook’s trying to spice her up, give her back the same youthfulness she probably had in her prime. What better way to do so than by adding some classic stripes alongside it.

Jungkook hums, gulps down his soda noisily. “Not this one. Never heard an engine as soft as hers.”

You roll your eyes. For a minute, the two of you quietly chew through your burgers, the radio filling in the gaps while you analyze the car. You know this car, but you can’t remember where. Jungkook coughs into his palm, probably from trying to inhale his fries too fast like he does every time you go to the diner you’re eating from today.

The diner.

A mouthful of braces. A pretty waitress. A strict dad.

“Holy shit, this is Sojin’s dad’s car,” you inhale, the memories from high school suddenly hitting you full force. Jungkook chokes, out of surprise this time, and furiously goes to deny your claims. “This is totally his car. The one he tried to run you over with when he caught you trying to put her on the back of your bike.”

“He didn’t try to run me over,” Jungkook whines, and the tips of his ears are red from your revelation.

You glare. “Why are you fixing that asshole’s car for him?” You interrogate, the last quarter of your burger forgotten in favor of squeezing the truth out of him. You’d had enough of that treacherous woman and her equally deranged father causing Jungkook trouble, and to catch him still helping her now, almost ten years later, was enough to make a brain vessel pop.

He shrugs, avoids your eyes as he picks through his fries. The radio is still on, some tune you recognize from those old days at the diner when Jungkook had become so unbelievably smitten with the part timer that served you milkshakes every Wednesday afternoon.

He had been in love with her the moment he saw her, and the look in his eyes was only magnified by those dorky glasses he wore pre-lasik. You'd been his friend long enough, recognized the jump of his scrawny thigh beneath the table. Like a bunny, thumping in excitement at the sight of her.

Sojin was... full of surprises.

She was nothing less than a supermodel, long legs carrying her around the diner as if it was her runway. She was nice too, so you hadn’t originally had an excuse to dislike her. She was nice, and so endeared with your best friend that it was inevitable when they began dating. Her presence consumed the end of your high school careers, overtook the time that should have been yours and Jungkook’s last year before being thrown into adulthood. He decided on studying at a technical school nearby—per your encouragement to save money—while you travelled five hours out for your degree in business. That last year, when you had finally come to terms with your feelings, had been so painfully ripped away by Sojin and her never-ending list of teenage drama, and by Sojin’s dad and his overbearing need to police her and Jungkook every chance he got.

Jungkook still hung out—“Sojin was busy, do you wanna do something?”—but more often than not those hang outs consisted of Jungkook telling you about her and her dad, about how hard he tried to get into his good graces.

The bike incident had only been one of many. Times where Jungkook would put his heart—and life—on the line for that girl only for it to be in vain every time she broke up with him over the simplest things. You’d heard stories from Jungkook, all told with a tight smile, of a handshake that would bruise, a man chasing him with a bat, of a car following him to school. All things he put up with for a girl who didn’t care for him. One day, after Jungkook had grudgingly sat through an hour long dinner with her family, the stare of her father piercing through him, she broke up with him because she didn’t like how long his hair had gotten.

(If anyone were to ask you, he was handsome with long hair. Dreamy even.)

He cut it that same day.

As her childishness grew, you quickly came to dislike her. She strung Jungkook around, you thought, and just when you thought she was finally done toying with him and making his life difficult in the sneakiest ways, the damn kid started hitting the gym. His growing frame, toned arms and now straightened teeth had turned him into a heartthrob, and Sojin was just as aware of this as you were. “Don’t we look perfect together?” She’d ask, twirl around him like they were on the cover of a magazine and not standing on his chipped front porch.  

Needless to say, by the time graduation had rolled around you despised the woman. You absolutely disliked how she treated Jungkook, how she let her father treat Jungkook without ever stepping up and defending him. Granted, you didn’t know exactly what went on in her household behind closed doors, you’d seen enough of her uncaring attitude to want to ram her and her dad’s head against the hood of the car.

Which is why seeing the old car, in Jungkook’s shop nonetheless, was rekindling a boiling hatred in your chest. “That man should rot in hell for all he put you through,” you huff, glare at the car like it holds some magical connection to him and he can feel the intensity of your stare.

“___,” Jungkook scolds, swirls his cup around to distract himself. “He was just trying to protect his only daughter,” he defends, quietly, like it’s what he tells himself to justify all those years of mistreatment. Even when he and Sojin had continued through college, it had never stopped. You, being five hours away, couldn’t do a damn thing. “Besides, the guy’s old as hell now.”

You snort, finally breaking your staring match with the car. Glancing at Jungkook, he’s got that same forlorn expression on his face, the one he started wearing when he first came to terms with the fact that her dad would never like him. There was a time it was stuck permanently on his face, the pressure and the discomfort that came from the father of the girl you’ve dated for five years looking at you like you were nothing more than a speck of dirt on the bottom of his shoe.

When you came back from school, educated and confident, you almost didn’t recognize your best friend. Tall and broad, tattoos splattered over his arm. Hair long like you loved it, but eyes still as round and wondrous as they’d been when you were kids. He had his own place now, he told you, and you vaguely remembered all the times he mentioned him and Sojin moving in together, mentally preparing yourself to see that wench for the first time in a while.

Much to your surprise, there was no Sojin in sight. No lingering artifacts of her presence. Nothing that showed she existed in this space besides an ugly orange mug she’d given him for his birthday one year, tucked into the very back of his cabinets. They’d broken up, he explained. Almost immediately after graduation.

After stringing him along for the better part of five years, she had decided this wasn’t what she wanted. No, what she wanted was a man ten years her senior with an abundance of cash to flow. Jungkook hadn’t cried. Hadn’t even looked the tiniest bit upset when you ordered pizza and drank some beer, watched your favorite episodes of The Simpsons like you were seventeen and avoiding your homework again.

You stayed the night, a little too tipsy to drive home. Besides, Jungkook had a spare bedroom. It was a room beside his, just a full bed with a chest of drawers. You liked it, liked the scent of him surrounding you after only seeing each other for a couple weeks in between months of distance. You liked it, because when he shifted in bed you realized the beds were pressed against the same wall, and you liked it until the shared wall spared you no secrets, and you listened to him quietly sob into his pillow.

“Old or not, he’s still the devil,” you murmur, snapping back to the present where Jungkook is wheeling himself closer to the car again. “Where did you find that thing anyway?”

He stays silent, quietly pretending like he still has something to do on the car besides paint it. Then, “I bumped into Sojin at the store.”

You sigh, drop your head between your shoulders. You can only imagine what whirlwind of a sob story she had to throw on him to win this favor.

“Kook,” you start, gauging his reaction only from his backside. His muscles ripple beneath his dark t-shirt, his usual red jumpsuit knitted around his waist. “What happened?”

Again, silence.

You say nothing, let him sort through the hurt on his own while you creep up behind him, sliding your hands over his shoulders and pressing down on the cricks behind his neck. He melts into your touch, head lolling forwards as a quiet sigh escapes him.

“She told me she was low on cash, and she needed the car to get to work,” he confesses, and from his ducked position, his voice trembles. You roll your eyes.

“And the paint job?”

A particularly rough press of your fingers has a whimper escaping him. God, this boy needed to see a chiropractor and a masseuse soon. All that hunching over and under these cars was doing a number on his back.

“I… I figured I might as well fix up the exterior too.” Of course he would, you think, Jungkook’s heart was stupidly big and easy to manipulate. He would get so swept up in it sometimes, trying to do the best he can for everyone’s benefit that he’d ignore himself.

You sit in his confession, fingers digging into his skin for a few minutes as you consider what to say.

The mature adult in you, the logical half of you, wants to hit him upside the head, scold him for letting that wench into his life again so easily. You were going on twenty-six now, all three of you, and you didn’t have time to be fixing him every time that childish woman decided to toy with him. Granted, it’s been four years since you last saw her, since you heard him muffle his cries on the other side of the wall, and you liked to think Jungkook was a respectful adult of society now. He didn’t have time to get dragged around by self-absorbed women with insane fathers.

The other part, the best friend since childhood, wants to run away. Wants to pack Jungkook into a suitcase and take him far away from here and from her. Unlike you, who now lived in the city, Jungkook had stayed in your small hometown, a quiet place just outside the bustling city. It was difficult to ensure his happiness when you were always forty-five minutes out of reach. It would be so much easier to just take him and fly to another province, maybe on the beach, Jungkook loved the beach.

“Listen,” he says, successfully pulling you out from your spiral. “I know what you’re gonna say and I just wanna tell you it’s not like that.”

You blink, hands stilling on his shoulders. Your lack of movement allows him to spin around on his chair, gaze up at you with the same shiny gaze he’s given you ever since you were kids. “I’m just doing her this tiny favor. She looked...” he trails off, face scrunching to find the words.

“Like shit?” You propose, and he smiles. “Like flaming dumpster shit behind a club?”

Jungkook laughs, loud and beautiful. You want to kiss the mole beneath his lip.

“She looked bad, okay?” He settles, reaches forward to take your palm in his. You’re standing between his thighs, and you wonder how he would have acted if you were Sojin. “Don’t think things worked out with that CEO she was dating. I’m just giving her a push.”

You sigh, try to push those crestfallen sobs to the back of your head. “Okay,” you agree, briefly glancing back at the damn car. “You fix her car, and that’s it,” you state. Jungkook nods, makes a little X over his heart. He knows how much you hate that woman. “No funny business.”

“No funny business,” he agrees, then reaches down for a white spray can. “You wanna spray some dicks on it before I paint it?”

“Please,” you laugh, taking the face mask he offers you with a grin.

—

One day your car starts making a weird noise as you pull out of the underground parking garage of your building. It’s somewhere between a pig squealing and metal scraping. You’ve been around Jungkook long enough to know this is probably something to do with your breaks, something about them being loose or old, one of the two. You have a short day at work today. There’s repairs being done to the office you work at, so everyone’s been spending more time working from home.

You leave work a little after two pm, head pounding from the hour long meeting you sat through, the mediocre business proposals your boss had asked you to look through and file. There’s a hefty load of emails waiting in your inbox, mostly the interns requesting you write them a recommendation letter. You’ll have to look through those later, pick out the good ones and write them each a unique piece kissing the ground they walk on.

The scent of freshly fried donuts hits your nose as you pull into your old town; the bakery down the road from Jungkook’s has their windows open. You can already taste the sweetness on the tip of your tongue, the iced coffee cooling your insides as you sit and watch Jungkook work on your car.

Jungkook’s shop is on the corner of the street, takes up a huge chunk with it’s massive garage and driveway; the office area is tiny compared to the sheer size of the actual work floor. There’s music blaring through the overhead speakers, and when you pull in you recognize it as Jimin’s playlist.

“Morning, Miss,” the country bumpkin says, leaning against your car door as you rifle through your purse. “What’re you in for?”

“Hi, Jimin,” you reply sweetly, take his hand as he helps you out the door. You very vaguely explain the noise your car had made that morning, glancing around the shop as Jimin gets to work inspecting it. “Where’s Jungkook?”

Jimin’s waving over some other employees, all greeting you in their matching red jumpsuits. “Kook’s in the office,” he tells you, and it’s almost sensual the way his hand glides over your palm for your keys. God, you needed to get laid. “Has some lady friend in there with him.”

You pause, the bustling of the crew behind you fading into the background. Something inside you snaps, and you whirl around the garage, before catching sight of a 1975 Chevy Corvette, almost unrecognizable from how you’d last seen it. It’s bright red now, a color you only briefly saw before you’d left the other night, with two, lightning bolt racing stripes decorating each side. It looks new, almost in mint condition, and the fact it’s still here has you storming through the garage.

Your heels clack loudly, the crew moving to the side as you torpedo straight into the offices. You barely remember to greet the receptionist before you’re stomping straight into the main office.

There’s no knock, no warning given, before you’re flinging the door open, seeing exactly what you’d expected. 

“___,” Jungkook stutters, jumping onto his feet from his position on the couch. He looks frantic, wide eyes flickering between you and the woman sitting in front of him, her back turned to you. But you’d recognize that silhouette anywhere.

“Did you say ___?” She says, and she’s still as tall and as beautiful as you remember her. Had it not been for the heels you wore, you don’t doubt she’d tower over you. She flashes you a killer smile, lips carefully painted red. It almost looks murderous. “My! ___, you haven’t changed a bit,” Sojin exclaims, rushing around the couch to pull you into a tight hug. You don’t return it.

You let her cling to you for a second, before pushing her away as gently as you can by the shoulders. As much as you’d like to rip her in half, tear her apart for all she did to Jungkook, you won’t. You’re older now, elegant in all the ways you weren’t before. It would be a huge disservice to your maturity if you shoved your heel up her ass right now.

“It’s lovely seeing you, Sojin,” you smile, taking her hand in yours.

Besides, being a woman in business meant you knew better, more creative ways to strike.

“And your boyfriend?” You ask, tilting your head in staged confusion. You even glance around the office, like you’ll find the geezer hiding behind the potted plant or Jungkook’s frozen figure. “The rich one with the huge company? Did he come with you today?”

Her smile tightens, red lips pursed as she gauges you with those cat eyes that haunt your nightmares every now and then. “My ex-boyfriend,” she corrects after a minute, pastes a forlorn expression onto her features. “We’ve separated, and you know how it is for women like us,” she jests. “We need a man to push us along—“

“Do we?” You ask, think back on all those years of school, of studying and working and pushing yourself, all the time you spent investing in yourself for yourself. “I don’t think so,” you contemplate. “It’s really embarrassing if you can’t care for yourself without the help of a man. Almost like you don’t trust in your own abilities, and ride other’s coattails instead.”

A beat of silence. Two completely different worlds, and Jungkook hovering awkwardly beside you.

Two palms grasp your shoulders from behind, and when you turn Jungkook is smiling at you, forced and stressed like he can’t stand to be in this uncomfortable situation any longer. “Well,” he announces, pushing you behind him as he guides Sojin towards the door. “There was an issue with her car, so I’ll just check on it real quick, okay?”

You nod, feel empty as he takes her by the wrist, and not you. He hands her her purse, palm on the small of her back as they exit the office. When the door clicks shut behind them, you throw your own handbag at the ground, barely stop yourself from stomping like a child.

Instead, you breathe in, hold it, and exhale, just like your Tuesday yoga instructor taught you. By the time you’ve collected yourself a few minutes have passed, so you kneel down to gather your fallen lipstick tubes and cellphone from the floor, scooping them back into your purse.

Tugging the door shut behind you, you mindlessly wander down the hall, until you reach the small receptionist area and nearly get jumped by Kim Taehyung. “Holy shit, you won’t believe this,” he gasps, takes you by the shoulders and nearly shakes you until your brain falls out through your ears. You would have slapped him, had this been any other man, but he’s quite possibly the only man besides Jungkook you’d let jostle you like this. “You’ll never guess who just left the office with J—wait,” he pales, suddenly connecting two and two, your exit from said offices definitely a key factor in whatever conclusion he’s drawn. “You were in the office with Hwang Sojin and you didn’t kill her?!”

You huff, let him shake you again until you’re nearly tripping in your heels. “Yes, I know,” you groan, finally slap his hands away when you begin to feel this morning’s breakfast bubbling from all the motion. “I’m surprised too.”

“Wow,” Taehyung marvels, leans back against the receptionist desk even though the poor girl has told him time and time again not to. He ignores her, something he can do as second best friend to the boss. “Remember when she showed up crying outside his mom’s house and you threw a potted plant at her? Oh how the great have fallen.”

Rolling your eyes, you drift over to the plexiglass window in the office that looks out across the entirety of the garage floor. In the corner, Jungkook’s got the hood of the Corvette open as he works away on something, Sojin tapping at her phone beside him. “Why are you here, Tae?”

He steps beside you, tuned into the same scene. “Can’t visit my ex-girlfriend every now and then?” He teases, you groan.

“We dated for three days, dude, let it go,” you whine, and watch with rapt attention as Jungkook motions for her to start the engine. She does, and it purrs to life, soft and silky just like Jungkook said it does. She squeals and claps, launches herself into his arms in thanks. You look away.

“Yuck,” Taehyung gags and you couldn’t agree more. “Can’t believe you ended the best 72 hours of my life for that pinhead and the hussy attached to his hip.”

He shrieks when you pinch his side, and you take great satisfaction in the judgemental stare half the crew sends him through the glass. After all, they weren’t soundproof. “You embarrassed me and my brand,” he huffs, crossing his arms as the two of you return to watching Jungkook and the hussy.

“He’s not a pinhead,” you softly retort, watch him wipe a bead of sweat off his forehead as he waves her off. Sojin sends him a brigade of air kisses, none of which he catches. A sick sense of glee consumes you at the sight, but then he’s turning to stare directly at you and Taehyung through the glass, and the both of you quickly whirl away.

“His ability to find you in less than a second is so weird,” Taehyung shivers, and you ignore it, taking the candy from the bowl on the receptionist desk. She doesn’t care, having heard these conversations more than enough times to get the general gist of what you and Taehyung gossip about. You’re surprised she’s never mentioned it to Jungkook before.

Regardless, you listen to Taehyung complain about his life for a few more minutes, before Jimin’s sweet voice pops into the room. His ash blonde hair is all ruffled, and there’s something dark smeared over his otherwise perfect skin as he tells you your car is fixed. Taehyung bids you goodbye, and Jimin walks you back to your car out on the garage floor.

“All set, miss,” Jimin grins, puts a hand against the car so you don’t hit your head as you go in. You thank him, and don’t miss the way he lingers by your window.

“Is something wrong?” You ask, tilt your head quizzically. Jimin’s cheeks flush, and he looks shyly at the ground.

“Actually, I was wondering if—“

“___,” Jungkook calls, jogging over beside Jimin, who looks almost ashamed to be caught doing...whatever it was he was gonna do. Jungkook glances at him, catches him in some weird staring contest before crouching down to your window. “You needed your car fixed? Why didn’t you tell me?”

You blink, don’t know how to politely tell him he was too busy kissing the ass of his toxic ex-girlfriend to help you out. “Jimin helped me,” you smile, the same practiced expression you’ve mastered since college. You usually get by, usually trick people with that look, but not with him. Jungkook knows you too well, knows that look, and knows you’re holding yourself back. “You were busy.”

His lips part in surprise, tugged downwards with the hint of a frown. “I,” he stutters, looks at Jimin, who doesn’t seem that impressed with him either. “I… I would’ve came if you called.”

You tug your sunglasses out from their little case, slide them over the bridge of your nose as you strap your seatbelt over yourself. “Would you though?” You ask, flash him another polite smile before shifting your car’s gears. Jimin walks off, clears the path for you to exit, and with just Jungkook standing there, you speak freely. “I would hate to distract you from something important.”

—

Some of the proposals end up being better than expected, and after carefully sifting through them, your boss asks you to sit through presentations for the next few days. Your time gets consumed in graphs and budgets. There’s a multitude of businesses you have to look into, some big and well-known, and others small and local. You drive around the city one day, visiting business after business, until your ankles hurt in your heels and your cheeks hurt from all the smiling. Your only comfort is the nice Chanel skirt suit you’re wearing that makes you feel like the most important person in the room wherever you go.

By the time the week’s over, there’s a thin cut forming on the back of your ankles from all the walking you’ve done in your heels. You slump against your front door, tossing your heels in the vague direction of the closet before padding through your house.

You nearly scream yourself sore at the figure in your kitchen, hunched over what looks to be a hastily made cake with a number three candle. “Oh my god,” you seethe, turning the overhead light on to illuminate Jungkook’s grinning figure, dirty and sweaty from work. You glance at the clock on the stove; it’s only been about an hour since his garage closed.

“Surprise!” He exclaims, and you’re not the slightest bit amused when he begins humming the happy birthday song on a day that is definitely not your birthday.

When he’s done, you don’t clap and his beaming smile doesn’t waver. “It is not my birthday,” you calmly state, placing your leather padfolio on the counter.

Jungkook blows the candle out for you. “It’s the birthday of when we first met,” he explains, and gets to cutting the cake. How he remembers such a day, you don’t know. You do know that this is his mom’s birthday cake recipe, and you love that. “Can you believe it? Friends for almost three decades.”

“Almost,” you repeat, dutifully sitting across from him and taking the plate he offers. He nods at you like a bobblehead. 

His eyes are sparkly and big, like he’s drunk, and it’s only then you notice the red wine on the table, bottle open and halfway done. You set your fork down, grasp the neck of the bottle in your hand. “Have you been drinking?” You ask, even though the answer stares you right in the face. You frown. “You hate drinking.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, shovels more cake into his mouth to delay his response. “Needed it,” he offhandedly explains, nearly eats the candle but you jump forward to snatch it off his fork before he can.

“What do you mean?” You inquire. You’re not hungry anymore, too interested in whatever’s going on in his head to make him think he needs to be drunk around you.

Jungkook gulps, reaches forward for more wine but you cradle the bottle to your chest. You nearly gasp when he levels you with a real, stony glare, the expression out of place on his face. “Cuz you’re mad,” he huffs. “At me.”

There was a time you would coddle Jungkook’s every mistake, never let him think he was at fault for anything. You’d grown out of it shortly before high school, recognizing boys were stupid no matter how much you tried to prove otherwise. Since then, you’ve watched him get into trouble time and time again—Sojin being the prime example—and only intervened when absolutely necessary. Some part of you, the half that hates seeing him upset, wants to tell him you’re not. The mature part in you, however, doesn’t let that happen.

“I am,” you agree, watch his eyes widen almost comically at your admission. You set the wine bottle back on the table, leaning your chin on your palm as you level him with the most unimpressed gaze you can. “I’m furious, actually.”

He whimpers, actually whimpers like a kicked puppy, and you can almost see the metaphorical ears pressed against his head and the tail tucked between his legs. His lips are big and pouty, stained from the wine. You’d love to know what they feel like.

Jungkook’s vulnerability lasts all of three seconds, before he’s shaking himself out of whatever emotional pit his foggy brain has him in. “Well, it’s dumb,” he spits, and it’s your turn to sit in shock. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Excuse me?” You ask, incredulously, because this has never happened before. Are you overprotective and sometimes overbearing? Sure. Has Jungkook ever voiced discomfort with that before? Never. “I’m not telling you what to do,” you sneer, crossing your arms over your chest.

He rolls his eyes, pushes away from the table like a moody teen. You know it’s because he’s drunk, because he’s not himself, but you have to remind yourself that he obviously felt this way somewhere in his heart to voice it to you now. “You’re not my mom.”

You choke. “I’m not!” You angrily agree, pushing away from the table as well.

Jungkook snarls, “well you sure do love acting like her.” He picks up his plate, glances over at you with a look in his eyes that can only be likened to that of a sneaky cat, and then purposefully shoves the bread and frosting down the garbage disposal in the sink. You shriek, fly around the table and shove him away.

“What is wrong with you?” You seethe, push him away rudely with a hand on his face. Jungkook stumbles back, slips on the floor and nearly cracks his head on the corner of the counter. “Oh my god,” you exclaim, abandoning the sink in favor of watching the way his face twists up at the sudden motion, stomach contracting beneath his black t-shirt, cheeks puffing. “Oh god, oh god,” you stammer, tugging him to his feet with the strength only a panicked individual about to see an entire cake regurgitated onto their kitchen tile can have.

You’ve barely kicked the door to the bathroom open when Jungkook begins throwing up, gooey vomit spewing from his mouth and onto the floor. It touches your arm, and you shriek before shoving him in the general direction of the toilet.

“Ew, ew,” you freak, shoving your hand under the sink faucet to get that gross feeling away. You wanna vomit yourself, but you tell yourself there can only be one sick person at a time, and right now it’s Jungkook.

He’s got his head in the toilet, disgusting sounds echoing off the ceramic of it. By the time you’ve calmed down and washed your arm thrice, you move over to pull his bangs away from his face, letting him hurl in peace.

“I’m sorry,” he mopes, spews another round of birthday cake into the toilet.

You look away, blindly reach out to turn the bathroom fan on. “Mhm,” you nod, rubbing a hand over his back. Jungkook nods sadly against the toilet seat.

“‘M sorry,” he repeats, gags around nothing but the gross feeling left in his throat. “I-I know you just want…” a pause as he considers throwing up some more, “...want what’s best for me.”

“I do,” you agree, wipe a hand down the side of his face that he leans into. “Not trying to be your mom,” you assure him, and he snorts.

“Be a good mom,” he murmurs, so soft you don’t hear him. You hum, leaning closer and he repeats it. “You’d be… a good mom.”

Not knowing what to do with that information, you just pat his back until he falls asleep, cheek against the toilet seat.

—

“Woah, the sexual tension in this garage is off the charts,” Taehyung blurts from behind you, and you smack your clipboard against his chest. “Oof,” he grunts, rubbing his chest like it actually hurt. “You doing finances for him again?” He asks and you nod.

In an ideal world, Taehyung would leave upon finding out you’re busy. In this world, he simply leans into your personal space, nearly knocking you into an empty tool cart. “Oooh, an extensive list of all the money Jungkook’s stupidly blown this month. How much did he spend on neon signs this time?”

You relent, showing him the shop’s finances. Anywhere else, revealing a business’s finances without the consent of the owner would be a federal crime. Here, it’s the equivalent of showing Taehyung Jungkook’s browser history. “He spent how much on window tint?!”

“A lot,” you say.

There’s a whistle from across the garage, the shop’s resident country bumpkin Park Jimin standing at the huge garage doors with his hand on his hip. “No fraternizing, please.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Boooo,” he shouts, peels himself away from you to flick an impolite finger Jimin’s way. “He’s just jealous,” he tells you, and you frown.

“Of what?” You ask, and Taehyung nearly loses his shit.

“My precious ___,” he sighs, leans his forehead on your shoulder. “So beautiful and smart, yet so slow.” You flick the side of his forehead just as Jungkook strolls by and, seeing your attack, slaps the back of Taehyung’s neck. “Why do you guys hate me!” Taehyung exclaims, jumping at least five feet away from you and Jungkook’s giggling forms.

“How’s it going?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring Taehyung’s soulful cries as he glances over your shoulder at the clipboard. You tilt it his way, but he stands close anyway, until you can feel his breath huffing against the back of your neck.

“Okay, but you’re spending a lot of money stockpiling on things that haven’t shown signs of running out yet,” you explain, pointing at the window tint that had astonished Taehyung only a moment ago.

Jungkook grimaces, pink tongue swiping across his lip as he looks at the total amount he’s spent the last three months. “Well, it’s a good thing I have my accountant,” he grins, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

“Not your accountant,” you correct, “just a friend who doesn’t wanna see you run your business to the ground from overspending.”

Jungkook waves you off, and Taehyung tries to sneak into the receptionist office behind you, but Jungkook catches him with his free hand. “This is the life,” he sighs, wistfully gazing over the garage floor. It reeks of motor oil and car paint.

“Count me out,” Taehyung snorts, voicing your disinterest toward such greasy and smelly work. He tries to wiggle out of Jungkook’s hold, but the muscle bunny only straps an arm around his neck, until Taehyung’s squirming and clawing for air against the red sleeve of his jumpsuit.

“My own successful business, a shitload of sexy cars, and of course,” he pauses, squeezes the two of you tighter until you’re both groaning. “My two best friends.” The sap has the gall to peck the top of your heads, and that seems to be the final straw for Taehyung who rips himself away.

“Have this lovefest somewhere else, man,” Taehyung says, flattening his rumpled clothing down. “You’re really putting a nail in my reputation around here.”

Jungkook cackles, mindlessly goes to wrap himself around you from behind. “Your reputation has been trash since that scream you let out the other day,” he informs him, swaying the two of you back and forth. Your heart thunders in your chest, and you just barely manage to avoid Taehyung’s pointed stare.

“Whatever, I’m outta here.” With Taehyung peaced out, you’re left in Jungkook’s arms, gazing over his business like two old lovers. It makes your chest tight, so you quickly go to shake him off.

“We’re okay?” Jungkook murmurs, so soft you almost don’t hear. He’s got his hand wrapped around your wrist, thumb massaging over the bone there like he’s afraid you’ll bolt the second he lets you go.

You nod, tuck the clipboard to your side. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

Those sad puppy eyes, pouty lips turned southward. You want to wipe that look off his face. He sighs, glances at where your skin meets and gives it a squeeze. “I’ve been an ass lately,” he settles on saying. “Said some mean things and ruined your bathroom rug—I’m sorry.”

You don’t know what to say.

Jungkook takes your silence as understanding, reaching down to hold both your hands in his slightly dirty ones. “It won’t happen again. I’d rather lose a million friends than lose you,” he confesses, and something about it feels too real, too raw. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You nod, the constricting feeling in your throat only tightening when he smiles at you, those gentle eyes and plush lips for only you to see. You want to kiss him, swallow him whole. Right here on the garage floor so everyone knows he’s yours.

But you can’t because he’s not.

You settle on swinging your arms between you. “Just don’t do anything stupid,” you warn him, narrowing your eyes playfully. There’s a heavy feeling in your heart, something akin to anguish, but you could never voice it out loud.

“I won’t,” Jungkook promises.

—

Jungkook visits again on a weekday, and you nearly send him straight home when he brandishes another bottle of wine in your face. “It’s nonalcoholic!” He exclaims before you can shut the door on him, foot lodged against the frame. You give in.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, curling up on the couch in just your shorts and huge t-shirt. Jungkook pops the bottle open, pouring the wine into two limited edition Shrek 2 cups you pulled out from the depths of your cabinet.

“Can’t hang with my bestie?” He throws back at you, snatching the remote from your hands before you can click on another episode of that dumb housewives show. You end up watching National Geographic, some documentary about the role of bioluminescent shrimp in the sea.

“Aw look, they’re kissing,” he cooes at a pair of seahorses that wander across the screen halfway through a shot of some school of shrimp. “How romantic.”

“Wonder what that’s like,” you comment, not thinking too much on the meaning behind your words until you can feel Jungkook’s stare pierce your cranium. “What?”

“You’ve never been kissed?” He blurts, and you choke on your wine.

“You were my first kiss,” you remind him, flush at the memory of the two of you sitting criss-cross applesauce on his bed, knees knocking in what was probably the worst first kiss in the history of first kisses.

Jungkook blinks. “Oh yeah,” he laughs. “With the Tony Hawk poster behind my bed, right?”

“The one and only.”

Jungkook hums, and the two of you melt back into the silence. Nice aquatic sounds fill the room, the camera panning over more colorful fish that Jungkook oohs at appreciatively. You don’t really pay attention, more interested in the way the wine swirls in your cup and the way you can feel Jungkook’s thigh pressed against your knee, like when you were thirteen and trying something new.

You know it doesn’t mean a lot to him. Just another silly childhood memory of you. Not like you have hundreds, thousands of them with each other. By the way he’d blurted the question, you doubt he even remembered it most days. But you did.

It plagued your mind all the time, the soft feel of his mouth and the trembling hand that had held yours. You wonder if he kisses the same still, lips gently puckered. He’s had years to learn, half a decade to get creative with Sojin, and the past four years of being a bachelor to explore more.

You’ve kissed too, plenty of guys who had no meaning and ones you thought would replace him. But it’d been a long time since you’ve let anyone into your bed, more content to please yourself without the overbearing weight of feelings and emotions to wrap around your throat.

Jungkook coughs, and you shake yourself from your thoughts.

He’s looking at you inquisitively, like he can’t get his usual read on you and would rather just ask what’s wrong. “You don’t,” a pause, “hang out with guys?”

It’s devastatingly cute, the way he asks if you’re fucking, and you want to pinch his cheeks. Instead you shake your head, try to hide the grin on your face from his inquisitive expression. “Just you and Taehyung,” you admit.

Jungkook nods. “Do you and Tae…?”

You shake your head furiously. “No! God no, we don’t do anything like that,” you clarify, the thought of Taehyung in your bed enough to make you want to gag.

Jungkook says nothing, just turns back to the documentary to watch more Nemos and Dorys flit across the screen. You polish off your cup of wine, leaning forward to settle it back on the coffee table. As you settle back into the couch cushions, Jungkook speaks again. “So you take care of yourself?”

You freeze.

“Yeah,” you admit after one complete meltdown in your head. Where was this coming from? Why did he want to know? You and Jungkook were close, but you never did this. You never divulged the details of your sex life, never bragged about who you slept with or how many there were. What was going on?

Jungkook doesn’t say anything after that, just turns his attention back to the tv screen, where you’re almost certain the sea horses from before are fucking. Not that you know what it looks like, but you hope at least someone in this room was enjoying themselves and not drowning in the mortification of having their life long crush ask them if they masturbate.

“So, do you use your hands or a toy?”

You choke, slap your chest to ease the pounding of your heart at Jungkook asking such a question. “E-Excuse me?” You ask, scandalized that Jungkook, your sweet and caring childhood friend turned Fabio, could ask you such a bold question about your personal affairs.

“What?” Jungkook says, like he truly doesn’t see the inappropriateness of the situation. He even raises his eyebrows at you, as if urging you to answer the question.

You sigh, fight the flush of your cheeks and stare idly at the cups on the table. “A toy. Hands don’t feel good,” you curtly reply, crossing your arms over your chest and straightening your legs off the couch, hoping that’s the end of his curiosity. This was enough to fuel your 3am anxiety meltdowns for the next five years.

Jungkook nods, and you can feel his penetrating gaze on the side of your face again. A great white shark swims across the screen. Jungkook strikes. “My hands feel good.”

“Jungkook!” You exclaim in horror (and excitement, but you’ll pretend it wasn’t there). “What has gotten into you?”

“What!” Jungkook defends, Bambi eyes looking at you like you’re the unreasonable one here. “We’re having a civil conversation in which I’m trying to open up your worldview.”

You’re flabbergasted. “This is not a civil conversation, what are you even talking about?” You scold, tug your arms around yourself like it’ll actually protect you from the words that don’t seem to be filtering out of his mouth properly. “Why are you so concerned about that?” You interrogate, hope your forceful tone will scare him away.

It doesn’t. Jungkook shrugs, some noncommittal i dont know sound. “I can’t be interested in what you get up to? What my best friend gets up to?” It’s the obvious emphasis on best friend that makes you step down.

“No,” you sigh, rub a hand down your face. “You can be interested,” you tell him gingerly. “We just never really… talked about... those kinds of things,” you rush out, turn away from him as the narrator on screen dives into the intricacies of bioluminescent shrimp in the animal food chain.

As if sensing your discomfort, Jungkook softens, scooting closer to you. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, too close and too warm. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he says, places a palm on your knee.

“I’m not!” You rush to assure him, facing him head on again. His eyes are big and implorative still, and you wonder why he became stuck on that of all things today. “It just surprised me.”

His lips quirk to the side, an unsure grin that has you leaning into his shoulder. You sit in silence, the rise and fall of his body with every breath lulling you into a sense of comfort.

A false one that Jungkook zeroes in on.

The documentary’s wrapping up, soothing ocean sounds and wind instruments playing as the credits roll across the screen, when the hand that had been laying so comfortably on your thigh inches up. At first, you don’t notice it, writing it off as Jungkook just shifting around. You tell yourself it’s just that, until his pinky makes contact with the end of your shorts.

Slowly, you turn towards him, catch his mocha irises lustfully lidded as he toys with the hem. “Kook?” You murmur, so soft, barely there.

“Hm?” He replies, continuing to play with the edge of your shorts, until he gets brave and his fingers slip beneath, index finger just barely grazing the panties underneath. You gasp. “This okay?”

Stuck between your arousal and your common sense, you flounder for a response. He’s so close, and smells so good, curls brushing against your temple the closer he gets. You want him so bad, want him to find his place between your thighs and put those pouty lips to use. But you know it’ll make things different, change whatever it is you’ve had for the past almost thirty years, and you’ll never bounce back. Another brush against your panties, pointer finger wiggling it’s way beneath the fabric, and you’re choking out a “yes.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and something in your core tingles at the name, thighs clenching together. “Uh uh,” he chides, nudges them open. “Stay still for me,” he commands, and you do, for all of ten seconds, but then he’s pressing his finger on your clit, panties and shorts muting the sensation. Still, it makes you squirm, fingers clutching the couch cushion beneath you as you struggle to keep them open. “Too much?” He asks, and you shake your head no.

“I-It’s fine,” you whisper, and Jungkook smiles.

He pets you, almost wondrously, for a few beats, watches the way the muscles in your thighs twitch with every press against your mound. Eventually, he decides it’s enough. “Hands don’t feel good for you?” He inquires, your words from earlier obviously having left their mark on him. Slowly, you shake your head. He glances down at the fist you have on the couch, composed features sliding up your face. “Well, yours are so small, princess. Of course they don’t feel good.”

He manhandles you around, tugs you onto the couch until you’re laying down, legs sprawled on either side of him. Pleased with the arrangement, Jungkook glances back down to your bottoms. “These have to go,” he tells you, hooks his fingers in the waistband and abruptly yanks down, leaving you just in your t-shirt.

You go to shy away, but Jungkook stops you, palms resting on the insides of your thighs, thumbs pressing into the skin soothingly. “My fingers are long, see?” He says, raising a hand to wiggle his fingers at you. You nod, heartbeat thundering in your ears. “They’ll feel nice inside.”

You know they will.

You can tell he knows his way around a woman’s body just from the way his hands glide over yours, carefully like he’s mapping you out. Ever so slowly, one hand grows closer, until his thumb is gently circling your clit, and you inhale sharply.

“So wet,” Jungkook hums, his other hand traveling further down, until he’s spreading your pussy lips with two fingers, trailing them through the arousal that gathers there.

You’ve never been so attentively cared for, never had a man zero in on your cunt like it was his first meal in ages. Jungkook’s eyes are clouded with lust, tongue peeking out from between his lips as he watches your pussy lips flutter at his touch.

He swirls his hand over your clit, pressing down. The first sound escapes you, a soft whimper that has you clamping your hand over your mouth in embarrassment. Jungkook grins down at you, shifts closer to press a kiss to the knuckles over your mouth.“Don’t hide from me,” he purrs, pulling away and pressing a kiss to your neck.

You cry out when he gets back to it, massaging your pussy with gentle hands and a thumb against your clit to placate you. “Jungkook,” you choke out, and he beams at his name, takes it as a sign to finally slip two fingers inside. “A-ah,” you whine, arching beneath him.

He basks in your noises, leans close again to press a kiss beneath your ear, against your jaw. “This okay?” He murmurs, curling the fingers inside of you. You mewl, throwing your arms around him as he begins working you open. “How does it feel, baby?”

“G-good,” you pant, turn your head until you can bury your nose in his hair, drown even more in his all-consuming aura.

Another kiss to your neck, before he’s suctioning his lips right below your ear, nipping and sucking at the skin to brand you his. “You like my hands?” He husks, and the patch of saliva he leaves on your neck feels cold without his mouth there. You nod, and Jungkook rewards you with a soft smooch over the hickey he’s left.

His fingers inside you curl and scissor, brush against every inch of your walls until you’re quivering beneath him, gasping his name out. You could melt if his fingers weren’t holding you together. “So tight,” he groans, curling his fingers. The movement touches upon something sensitive within you, and you moan his name loudly.

“O-Oh,” you pant, wiggling beneath him as you try to feel that again. Jungkook lets you, watches you desperately rut into his hands. He drifts away, lets his tongue mouth over your breasts, licking until there’s a damp spot on your t-shirt, the flimsy house bra you’d worn and the t-shirt combined not enough to hide your pebbled nipples.

The drag of his hands against your pussy isn’t enough, the motions not quick enough. Jungkook glances at your twisted features, your quivering pussy, and then, ever so gently, ducks over you, puckered lips letting one, long glob of saliva touch down on your pussy, trickling around his knuckles.

“Fuck,” you choke, watch his tongue swipe over his lip to break the thin bridge that connects you too. Suddenly, everything is smoother, the combined lubrication of your arousal and his spit making the glide of his fingers sinfully slick.

Frantic for release, you lose yourself in him, ready to free fall into your pleasure so long as Jungkook is there to catch you. “That’s it,” he encourages, picks up the pace of his fingers inside you. “Come on, beautiful, let me see that gorgeous face of yours when you come.”

“K-Kook,” you sob, and he smiles against your neck. His fingers work fast, until your muscles are all pulled tight, waiting for that final push to unravel. You make the mistake of glancing down, only to be caught by that pearly smile and adoring gaze. You’re in heaven, you know you are.

There’s no other explanation for this—the way Jungkook holds you like you’re his, hands so gently caressing your most intimate parts. You’re almost convinced you’re having a fever dream, a sick, too realistic dream, but then Jungkook’s biting down on your shoulder through your t-shirt, subtly rutting against your thigh.

“Cum for me,” he purrs against your neck, and you do, sobbing as your orgasm rolls over you, the heavy weight of his cock against your thigh. “Jungkook,” you cry, so pitifully, it has him lunging forward, a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth.

You feel sweaty and gross, unbelievably tired from the gentle way he opened you up. Blindly, you reach down, feel the hardness of his cock beneath his sweatpants, but Jungkook nudges you away. You huff. “Let me,” you whimper, reach for him again even though you can see the slowness in your movement. “Need your cock in my mouth,” you drawl, almost sleepily. 

“Shh,” he soothes, lips pressed against your neck, where he’s still licking and sucking over every inch of you. You whine. “You don’t have to do a thing, gorgeous,” he assures you, “just wanted to make you feel good.”

—

Work gets stressful shortly after. There’s a new batch of interns coming in this season, new faces who will mess up your coffee orders and jam the printers for a good few weeks. There’s normally a team of employees who train them, a mix of relatively older people from different departments who show them around; a girl in the finance department, the one who usually trains them, is on maternity leave. With no one else to fall back on, the head of the department pushes the duties off on you, claiming your flexibility and work ethic make you the perfect candidate for such a role.

Normally you’d thrive at the praise, eat up every single word like it sustained you. In a way, it did. It was nice to be appreciated and recognized for your hard work, to be thought of so highly, especially in a male-dominated company. However, this time, you know it’s out of convenience that the head kisses up to you, and you end up begrudgingly taking the role.

The gaps in your schedule you’d normally spend relaxing or catching up on other projects are filled with bumbling interns, calling for help every chance they get. It’s like they’ve never done anything on their own, this group, always asking you the correct way to do this, the right way to do that. You haven’t mentored interns in a while, so you spend the first day breezing over old powerpoints and print outs you made years ago. You remember why you’re not fit for mentoring when one of them asks you how to navigate Excel. You nearly rip their head off.

There’s so much going on, you barely get time to see Jungkook, let alone text him. You saw him once the morning after, stack of pancakes on your kitchen table as he rushed you off to work. The shop didn’t open for another hour. He was sweet, kissed your forehead as you left, but he’s always done that. You didn’t have time to talk about whatever the night before was, or what that made the two of you now.

On Friday night, one week into your nightmarish role, you pull into the shop. You'd like to convince yourself it was routine, visiting the shop, but that’s a lie. You desperately miss Jungkook. 

 Most of the garage doors that are usually pulled open during the day are shut, save for one. The last of Jungkook’s employees are leaving, bidding you adieu as you step out of your car. Park Jimin is there, repairing some rickety car in the back corner.

“Boo,” you call playfully, and Jimin doesn’t flinch, merely pulls his head from out of the hood to flash you an easygoing smile.

He whistles at the sight of you. “You look like you’ve been through one of helluva week,” he says, and you, despite your strong personality, feel yourself blush at his comment. Jeez, did you look that bad? Jimin doesn’t elaborate, just pulls out a stool for you to sit on beside where he’s working. “Penny for your thoughts?”

You glance at the plexiglass, the offices hiding down the hall. Jungkook could wait, you presume, settling down beside him. Your skirt tugs up as you settle onto the pleather seat, so you cover your legs meekly with your purse. “Work’s been crazy,” you explain, and Jimin laughs at the obvious.

“You’re telling me,” He hums, and you roll your eyes playfully. “What’s going on at work?”

What hasn’t been going on, you think to yourself, before launching into a full retelling of your new horrendous position, of all the interns with their clueless eyes and useless notebooks. Jimin chuckles, indulges you in a few comments here and there that only fuel you on. He’s just about done with whatever he’s doing to the car at the same time your story wraps up, explaining how you found yourself here, desperate for Jungkook to whisk you off to that arcade you loved as kids. “Jungkook?” He asks, and you nod. “He left a while ago.”

You freeze. “Huh?” You say, dumbly. You almost want to laugh at your own impulsiveness, for showing up without sending him a text or a warning to let him know you were coming. You almost do laugh, but then you remember you and Jungkook never did that anyway. Hell, he showed up at your house a few weeks ago unannounced and drunk. The two of you were hardly the type to plan ahead, so it was weird for him to not be here. He’s been at the shop almost every night since it’s opened, the days he’s not usually a holiday.

“Jimin…” you begin, glancing at the receptionist window once more. “Where’s Jungkook?”

Jimin shuts his tool box, kicking a cart off to the side. “He left with that lady,” he tells you, doesn’t hear the way your heart rips straight out of your chest. No way. “Tall, pretty. Had that nice Corvette he fixed up a while ago.”

“Sojin,” you mumble, and Jimin nods.

“Think that was her name.” As if sensing your tumultuous thoughts, he steps closer, one hand reaching out to steady you. “You alright?”

“God,” you exhale, pushing yourself away from Jimin and the garage and the window. The stool rolls away, almost hits the side of another car but Jimin catches it. He rushes over towards you, watching you wobble in your heels.

“Honey,” Jimin says, steady and warm beside you. “Sit down for me, yeah?” He guides you to a row of seats against the wall, nailed into the floor so you can’t push them away and make even more of a mess. Not that that’s your concern, your mind and heart too preoccupied with thoughts of Jungkook lying to you, going out with that woman again, despite your obvious hatred for her and his promise to you.

Jimin disappears, rushes over to the other side of the garage before returning with a water bottle for you. He cracks it open, presses it into your hands, and then against your lips when you don’t move. “Drink,” he encourages, watching you with worried eyes that only grow more and more concerned the deeper you fall into your thoughts.

You want to cry and beat Jungkook up at the same time. You want to scream at him for lying to you after treating you so nicely, holding you so warmly. Instead, you gasp for breath, clutching your face in your hands like it’s the only thing that grounds you.

There’s a beep outside, chirpy and cute in the way only older models are, and you whip your head up, the headlights of the Corvette painting you in shades of yellow as it rolls to a stop, the tears you hadn’t felt glistening under the light.

Jungkook flings himself out of the driver’s seat, and a sob catches in your throat when Sojin steps out of the passenger seat. Jungkook shoves everything in his path to the side, carts flying into the few automobiles on the floor, tools clanging loudly onto the cement, and just as those arms you love so much are reaching out for you, there’s a hand on his chest stopping him.

“What did you do to her?” Jungkook snarls, pushing Jimin roughly to the side. Jimin, smaller but not weaker, holds his ground, clutching Jungkook by the material of his jumpsuit a second time. “Let— go!” Jungkook shouts, finally worming away from his employee.

He nearly trips before you, stumbling to his knees as he takes your quivering hands in his. “What’s wrong,” he asks, throwing a nasty glare back at Jimin who watches silently from the side. Sojin is still by her car, leaning across the driver’s side now. “What did he do, what did he say?”

You shake your head, dropping your head to tuck your chin against your chest. You hate this. Hate letting him or Jimin or Sojin see you cry. It’s not the person you are, not the self-made woman you claim to be as you cry over the same man who is unknowingly defending you from himself.

“Let go,” you whisper, hoarse and choked. You shake your arms, but he doesn’t let up.

“Tell me what's wrong,” Jungkook pleads, inching closer to you. His breath is warm and he smells like oil, just like he always does. He also smells sweet and floral in a way only a woman could. He smells like Sojin.

You sob, rip your hands away from and scurry blindly towards Jimin, who catches you in his arms despite the shock that paints his face.

Jungkook watches with an expression of hurt, watches you snuggle into the arms of another man over an issue you won’t tell him about. Jimin says nothing, just rubs his palm over your back. He gestures towards the red corvette, the woman standing by it and Jungkook takes the hint.

You hear the kitten-like purr as it pulls off, the silence that follows afterwards. You don’t know where Jungkook is, if he’s here or if he left with her, and you don’t want to. “Tell me he’s gone,” you beg Jimin, quiet gasps against his neck.

He nods, slowly lets you untangle yourself from his arms as the two of you stare over the empty garage. The Corvette is gone, and so is Jungkook. Before Jimin can tell you where he is, you’re wiping a hand over your face, embarrassed at the moisture it comes back with. 

“I take it he’s not supposed to be with her?” Jimin tries to joke. 

Neither of you laugh. 

You sniffle, process what just happened, how you acted. You’ve never felt that way before, never experienced such brutal heartbreak. 

You don’t know what you expected from Jungkook. In your heart, you convinced yourself what happened in your apartment was the start of something new between the two of you, a natural result of your long friendship. Realistically, you know you should’ve waited until the two of you spoke, discussed whatever happens next. But you’d spent the past week comforted by the fact you’d finally gotten to experience something like that with him, daydreaming about him every chance you got. 

Somewhere in your mind, you had convinced yourself your involvement with him would finally be what broke his connection with Sojin, the final nail that would make him forget about her. It’s painfully funny how such wasn’t the case. 

Jimin breaks you out of your thoughts. “You okay to drive home?” He gently inquires, and you turn your gaze over toward your car. 

Did you trust yourself to make it home without shedding a single tear? Absolutely not. But between Sojin and Jimin, you had let enough strangers see you fall apart over a man tonight. 

“Perfectly okay,” you tell him. 

—

The interns pick up on your sour attitude the week that follows. They don’t ask dumb questions, and don’t mess up your order. You talk them through a presentation, show them how to properly organize finance charts. There’s a slide that has clip art, a goofy dollar sign with a smile and shoes. Jungkook put it there when you first made the PowerPoint. After the little lesson, you go to the bathroom and try not to cry.

A week later, and the interns don’t need you anymore. They do well, and your boss praises you for being such a good mentor. You thank him and he lets you go home early.

Home is empty. Jungkook doesn’t show up unannounced, mostly because you’ve changed the number lock on the door. You want to eat salad today, for some reason, but don’t have any of the ingredients for it, so you walk to the supermarket a few blocks away.

The supermarket feels the same as it always does at night. That ghostly feeling of being watched in an empty aisle, the scratchy tune of whatever Top 50 radio station they settled on today. You get there and decide you don’t want salad anymore, so you buy ingredients for a stew instead, all of which you probably had at home.

When you step outside, the air around your bare thighs is cold. Summer was ending, which meant Jungkook’s birthday was coming up. You ball the receipt in your hand and fling it at the trash. You miss, so you hobble over to pick it up.

The trash is beside a red Corvette with two racing stripes.

“Hey,” Sojin says, arms crossed over her chest as she walks up behind you, sizing up your crouched form beside her car. “What’re you doing to my car?”

You breathe in, shake the crumpled up receipt at her, before stuffing it in the garbage. She says nothing as you stalk by her, and you’re back on the main road when she pulls up next to you, window rolled down to speak to you. “Get in,” she gestures, “it’s gonna rain.”

“No,” you say, and a fat raindrop falls right on your nose.

The door unlocks and you climb in, plastic bags crowded by your feet.

The drive is silent. You only live a few minutes from the store, and you point out an empty spot by the sidewalk for her to pull up to. A dry thanks is on the tip of your tongue, but you never get to say it.

“My dad has cancer,” Sojin says.

“That sucks,” you respond, feel bad right away and say, “I’m sorry.”

Sojin doesn’t seem bothered by it, shifting the Corvette out of drive and cutting the engine. “He’s probably not gonna see Christmas,” she adds, and you don’t know what to say. You don’t care about her or her crazy father.  “I wanted to do something nice for him before he, y’know.”

“Died,” you fill, and at that she glares.

“Yeah,” she huffs. “Before he died. So I fixed up his car. But the place I took it to didn’t know how to fix an engine so old, and ended up fucking it up even more.” You nod, she continues. “Then I bumped into Jungkook and—“

“Took advantage of his kindness,” you finish, remembering the twinkle in his eyes when he’d told you about their encounter, that day in the empty garage that seemed lightyears away. “Well congrats. Hope your dad liked it,” you sigh, push open the door and get soaked to the bone immediately.

“Wait!” Sojin calls, hopping out after you. She’s still as beautiful as she was when you were seventeen, even with rain soaking her entire being. “I didn’t ask him to repaint it, but that’s what my dad loved the most.”

You want to go inside, make your stew, and cry in it.

Sojin doesn’t seem bothered by the bangs that stick to her forehead or the water that washes down her spine. “When I told him Jungkook did it… he wanted to see him. Apologize and stuff.”

You snort. “Apologize,” you repeat, tightening your grip on your shoppings bags. “For what, Sojin? For almost killing him with this car or for treating him like shit for five years?” She says nothing, stares at the hood of the car like she doesn’t know what you’re talking about. “He was crazy for you, you know that? He would have done anything for you and not once did you stand up to your dad for him. You let that man call him worthless, stupid, a waste of space. And for what? For you to break up with him for some rich asshole who would never treat you half as good as Jungkook did?” You sneer.

The rain feels cold and your groceries feel heavier, so you whirl on your heel and make for your building entrance.

“He never liked me,” Sojin calls out, and you wonder if she even heard the second half of your emotional outburst. You turn to face her with fire in your eyes, and are only a little surprised at the sadness that paints hers. “He never liked me the way he said he did.” You could knock her teeth out.

“You’re stupid,” you spit, and she rounds the car at an insane speed until she’s glaring down at you over her perfectly sculpted nose.

“He never liked me,” Sojin repeats angrily. “He was always busy looking at you—for approval, for attention, I don’t fucking know. He would hold me and touch me but it never felt real. It always felt like practice for him…” she sniffles and your breath hitches in your throat. “We dated all through college,” she says like you don’t know, like you didn’t stress about it for years. “Everyday closer to graduation felt like a ticking bomb. Like he was just waiting for you to come back. To come home.”

You remember it.

The excited texts he’d send you everyday, the plans he made for you. Jungkook was more excited than your parents about you coming home. The five hours had done a number on him, and after four years all he wanted was to have you close again. You remember the hug in his driveway, the way his mom had told you he’d waited all day for you. It’s weird hearing it from Sojin.

Too overwhelmed, you decide to deflect. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you murmur, and you’re surprised she hears it over the pouring rain.

A loud scoff. “You’re stupid,” she repeats back, jabbing a finger at your chest. You glare, and so does she. Like two animals in a cage you size each other up. “You’re stupid and ugly and I hate you,” she spits, and you drop your shopping bags to lunge at her.

You don’t swing, just grab her by the shirt and move to slam her against the wall, but she’s tall and a little strong, bony fingers wrapping around your wrists like spiders. “Why can’t you see how much he likes you?” She screams, like it hurts to admit it. “He’s been in love with you since forever, and all you’ve ever done is run away!”

“I never—“ you gasp, pushing her away from you. Sojin stumbles, but she doesn’t fall. “I’ve never run away,” you defend, heart beating in your chest too fast to be normal. “Some of us have careers and lives we want to live—I don’t want to depend on a man for the rest of my life!”

She growls, tugs at her wet hair like you’re giving her a headache. Stomping up to you once more, she pushes you hard with both hands, and you barely catch yourself in time. “He would have followed you to that fucking fancy school, but you told him it was better to save money here! Told him to not waste his time and just settle there! You did this to us—to all of us!”

You choke. Lightning flashes behind her, and for a moment all you can see is your gentle prodding, sitting behind him as he filled out applications, big wannabe business brain telling him the easiest way to save money for his auto shop was by going straight into technical school. The small frown on his face that day you’d packed for college, and the way he’d stood in your parent’s driveway until you couldn’t see him anymore, a little spec in your rearview mirror.

Sojin, sensing she’s made her point, says nothing. She scoops up your fallen grocery bags and shoves them into your trembling hands, stomping back to her car and pulling off with a roar, loud and ferocious, and nothing like a kitten.

The groceries in your bag end up in the trash.

—

Taehyung invites you to lunch one day, and you go. You’re starving and desperate to get away from work, where you’re paranoid everyone knows there’s something wrong with you. You meet up at a cute little bistro, and he smiles and hugs you when you arrive. You sit in comfort for all of two seconds before he jumps into his interrogation.

“What’s going on with you and Kook?” He asks, casually flipping through the menu. Your hand stills around your glass of water, and you eventually set it down without ever taking a drink. Your mind instinctively maps out a lie, but Taehyung has known you a while now, knows the quirk of your lips when you’re about to lie your ass off. “Don’t lie to me. I haven’t seen you at the shop in almost a month. And he doesn’t go out,” he mentions. “I think he spent four nights at the shop before I made him go home.”

You deflate.

Too embarrassed to explain, you flip through your own menu, and when the waitress comes you order the first words your eyes focus on. Taehyung doesn’t push you, just patiently gazes out over the bustling street.

Finally, you break. “We… did a thing.”

“Uh huh,” he nods, reading some ad on the side of a bus that passes by. “Need you to elaborate, babe.”

You squirm. “We… fooled around,” you say for lack of more appropriate wording. There’s a family sitting beside you, and you’d rather die than let some nooby pre-teen listen to the details of yours and Jungkook’s night.

“You fucked?” You choke, make a loud sputtering noise like it’ll drown out Taehyung’s voice to the other patrons. “What’s wrong with that? We all knew it’d happen sooner or later,” he shrugs.

“No,” you seethe. “We didn—I didn’t.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, the same way Sojin did that day on the sidewalk. You almost throw your glass of water at him. “We…” you sigh. “We did a thing, and then the week after he went out with Sojin.”

Taehyung scowls at the mere mention of her, so the glass of water is returned to its coaster. “Really? He went out with her right away? He’s cancelled.”

You nod, rubbing your hands over your face. “He… her dad has cancer and is literally on his deathbed so she wanted to fix up his car for memories sake, which he loved, so he wanted to apologize to Kook and thank him for fixing up his car,” you rush out, and now Taehyung chokes, water spewing out of his nose. You shriek, drawing everyone’s attention as you pat down your soaked blouse. “Tae!”

“I’m sorry,” he cries, wiping at the sting in his nose. “He-she, what?!” You ignore him, focus on battling the damp spot on your blazer. “God, that’s crazy,” Taehyung snorts, winces at the feeling in his nose.

After the two of you have settled, the manager kicks you out for your inappropriate conversations and childish behavior. You leave with your tails tucked between your legs. Taehyung holds your hand as he walks you back to your workplace, you quietly fill him in on all the other details surrounding yours and Jungkook’s fallout, from your breakdown in the garage to your weirdly dramatic confrontation with Sojin. “Well,” he claps, slamming a hand down on the traffic light button, even though both of you know it doesn’t work. “That explains a lot of things.”

“Yeah,” you agree, pushing down the crosswalk when the light finally changes of its own accord. “Do you,” you pause, feet glued to the sidewalk. “Do you think she was right?”

Taehyung glances back at you, so small and unsure in the midst of a bustling crowd. He smiles, sweet and soft. Rare coming from him. His free hand ruffles the top of your head, and he brings you into his chest. “Babe, the hottest guy in your grade was intimidated by scrawny, pre-muscle bunny Jungkook. I’m pretty sure he feels some type of way towards you.”

Your lip wobbles dangerously, and you bite down on it to stop. Taehyung pats your head, barks at some old guy when he yells at the two of you for standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

When you’re outside your office, you speak again. “You were not the hottest guy in our grade, by the way.”

Taehyung snorts. “I totally was.”

—

You hideout for the rest of the week.

On Friday night, you finally have the balls to show yourself again, and you hop on the highway leading out of the city before you can overthink it. The buildings slowly melt away, replaced with cozier homes, tinier shops, and by the time you’re pulling up the street, you’re deep in doubt again.

It’s not that late yet, only a little past sunset, but the garage doors, usually open to the street, are all shut. You frown, pull around the block, reverse into a spot across the street. Locking your car, a gust of wind nearly trips you as you cross the street. The front office is dark, metal shutters pulled over the entrance.

Eventually, you stumble around until you find the tiny backdoor squeezed beside some dumpsters, grateful for the key Jungkook had given you so long ago.

Just as Taehyung predicted, a pair of red jumpsuit clad feet stick out from beneath a car. A nice car, an even older Corvette than Sojin’s dad’s, still shiny despite the model it is. It looks like a show car with the way it glints at you, black paint almost glossy. The only light in the entire garage is a lamp, positioned over the area where the legs are working, and a flashlight that occasionally beams at you when the holder loses his grip. No music today, just the hum of a rotating fan. You creep over.

Jungkook’s humming a song when you get to him, foot tapping idly on the ground. You suck in a deep breath and nudge his foot with the tip of your heel. You have exactly two seconds to jump away when he abruptly rolls out from beneath the car, concentrated features scanning quickly around until they land on you.

The garage is still, until Jungkook jumps into action. “___,” he stammers, stumbling to his feet. The rolling board drifts away, bumping into the corner of the metal table beside you. “Hi, um,” he flounders, brushing his fingers through his hair, palms wiping over the front of his pants. Finally, “hi.”

The bad bitch Chanel skirt-suit you’d worn today fails you for the first time in a long time. Your hands feel sweaty, so you clutch them behind your back. “Hi, Jungkook,” you exhale, and all the emotions you’d swallowed for so long, the feelings that tightened around your chest and throat like boa constrictors, come oozing out, until all you can see is his puckered mouth and twinkling gaze.

He coughs, tries to casually lean against the car, but greatly miscalculates the distance. “What, um, what brings you here?” He asks, foot tapping nervously against the ground.

There’s a box of takeout on the floor he tries to subtly kick beneath the car, and a plastic bottle of soda that makes a loud noise when he tries that too. You twist your lips, watching the anxious shuffling of his feet. You breeze over his question, plaster a tight smile into your face, and ask your own question; “how long have you been here?” Tentatively, you lower yourself onto a rolling stool. “It’s late,” you state the obvious.

Jungkook’s leg bounces, and he pats his hand over it nervously. “Um, an hour? Just working on something,” he answers, cheeks warm as his eyes flicker everywhere but you. “What brings you here?” He repeats, and you know you can’t deflect it this time.

Shrugging half heartedly, you wait for him to finally look at you. When he does, he almost looks away but the glint in your eye stops him from doing so. “We need to talk,” you finally say. Jungkook visibly deflates, lips pulling into a thin line. You contemplate letting him relieve his thoughts first, but you came here with a point to make, for questions that needed answering, and you’re scared one word from him will wash them all away.

“Listen,” you start, smoothing your hand over the edge of your skirt. “I know something weird happened between us, and then I kinda freaked out on you, but… I need you to tell me the truth.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. “Always.”

You swallow, try to push back the frustration that builds in his throat. “Did you ever even like Sojin?”

Jungkook blinks. “Huh?” A snort. “You’re joking,” he snickers, wipes at faux tears in the corner of his eyes, before your unsmiling face registers and he’s schooling his features. “___, I did like her. I dated her for five years. How could I not like her?”He says seriously, like he can’t believe you would ever question such a thing. 

You exhale, pick at your fingernails. “I met her,” you admit, and Jungkook’s face twists in confusion. “At the supermarket last week. She said you never liked her.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Of course she’ll think that—we’re exes. I doubt she remembers all our best memories,” he sighs, turning back to organize his tool cart like he’s done with this conversation.

Raising to your feet you call his name again, and he hums absentmindedly. “Sojin said you never liked her because you were always chasing after me,” you accuse, laying all your cards out on the table. Your claim startles him, and you watch as he jostles half the tool cart with his surprise.

“She, what?” He huffs, cheeks as red as his jumpsuit. He forces out a laugh, airy and tight like you’re starring in your elementary school play again and the nerves are eating him up. “I-I don’t know why she’d say that.”

He’s flustered, obviously so, as he scoops the metal tools back onto the cart, bumping into three other things before settling back down on the floor to roll under the car. He pushes himself under, and you sternly call out, “Jungkook.” He freezes.

You strut over, brush your hands behind your skirt as you crouch beside him. “Always,” you quietly remind him. Jungkook says nothing. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve grossly misread the situation, if this was just another one of her schemes to drive the two of you apart.

Slowly, Jungkook appears from under the car. There’s a new stain on his cheekbone, brown and slick. He sits up, wide eyes tracing over your features likes he’s trying to seal them in his memory. “Yeah,” he admits, lips twisting as he watches the surprise take your features, before he’s lolling his head back to stare at the ceiling, leaving you to stare at the column of his neck.

“I do,” Jungkook admits, pushing through his emotions. It’s hard for him to confess, you realize, watching the way his Adam’s apples contracts and his jaw twitches from having to say so. “I like you so much it hurts.”

His confession leaves you feeling weird. On one hand, you want nothing more than to spring yourself on him and kiss his face until the stray oil marks are gone and replaced with the outline of your lipstick prints. You want to smother him and hold him, let him know he’s yours, always has been.

On the other hand… it’s sad. Going on thirty years and never did the two of you guess your feelings for each other. You doubt either of you are good at hiding them, with the way everyone seems to have known except you two. Maybe you don’t know Jungkook as well as you thought you did. Maybe he doesn’t know you.

A hand touches your knee, and you return your attention to his downtrodden appearance, chin tucked against his chest. “Please,” he murmurs. “Say something.”

You say nothing.

Tentatively, you reach a hand out, run it along the side of his head, through his mane, chocolate waves touching his cheekbones. He almost looks like when you guys were kids, round eyes watching your every move. Your hand continues down the back of his head, cupping the nape of his neck comfortingly. Jungkook leans into the touch, even though his shoulders are tense. You soothe your fingers over the tight muscles in his neck.

“Since when?” You inquire.

Jungkook blinks, lets your palm trace along his jawline and cup his cheek. “Since you dated Taehyung when we were sixteen.”

Mentally, you curse every deity in existence for putting Kim Taehyung in your life. “God,” you groan, burrowing your hands in your palms. Jungkook, surprised by your reaction, rolls closer, moves around until you’re crouched between his long legs. “Since me and that pinhead dated for twenty minutes?” You repeat.

Jungkook shifts closer, rubs your back. “It was 65 hours, actually,” he corrects, and the exact duration of your relationship makes you cringe. “I… counted.”

Small and shy, almost embarrassed. You glance back up at him. “Why?” You prod, and Jungkook’s cheek flush, palm stilling.

“Uh,” he starts. “I was nervous? That you two were in it for the long run. And I, I don’t know. It was easier to just count,” he lamely finishes, and his dangly earring whips around with him when he avidly avoids your gaze.

You sigh, catch his hand in yours. “Tae and I would have never lasted,” you tell him, remembering all the times the guy made you pick him up from one night stands in the last few years. “He wasn’t who I wanted.”

His foot jumps, toe tapping against the wheel of the car next to you. He wants to ask, you know he does, but Jungkook was quite possibly the only other person on this planet who could overthink something more than you.

Deciding to ease his worries, you give his hand a squeeze. “It was you,” you confess, feel like an elephant lands straight on your chest. “It is you,” you correct.

His forehead knocks against yours, hard, and you hiss at the bump that probably forms. “What the fu—“

“Tell me it’s not temporary,” Jungkook pleads, eyes crinkled in worry. You’re going cross eyed from trying to look at him like this, so you flit your eyes off somewhere to the side. His hand is heavy in yours. “Tell me you’re not just doing this for closure, or because you want to see what it would have been like, please,” he begs, “that would be so fucked up, because I’m so in love with you I actually think I might die.”

The dramatic confession makes you painfully warm. You nod, your lower lip trembling at the way he looks at you, like you single-handedly controlled this entire world with a flick of your wrist. “I-I love you too,” you parrot back, the first time you’ve ever said it, the millionth time you’ve ever thought it.

Jungkook visibly relaxes, pulls away from you to drop his head on your shoulder instead. Your legs are starting to cramp from the tight crouching position, ankles wobbly in your heels. His hair smells good still, despite the hours he’s probably spent beneath a car, and you gingerly pat the back of his head.

“I love you,” he murmurs, and you repeat it. “I love you,” he says again, and you repeat it. “I lov—“

“Me, yes, I’ve heard,” you cut him off, smile at the snort he releases, and when he turns his head, his lips brush against your neck. You’re instantly thrown back a few weeks, to that night on the couch with the limited edition Shrek 2 cups and the wine; the gentle touches that left you trembling for weeks. You inhale quickly, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him away.

His eyes are too soft, face too relaxed as he stares at you. “My legs hurt,” you tell him, quickly getting up. You whirl around, facing the car and digging through your purse like you suddenly have something to do.

“Oh,” you gasp, watch two arms wind around your waist, the dirty red jumpsuit contrasting against the tweed material of your high-end Chanel jacket. Jungkook sighs lovingly by your ear, snuggles his face into your neck. “W-we should go out,” you blurt, nerves jumping when he squeezes tighter, burrows closer. “To celebrate!”

Jungkook hums. “Yeah?” His voice is too low. You’re in trouble. “Celebrate what?”

You squirm, breath catching in your throat when he presses you closer against the hood of the car. “Um,” you shakily exhale, hands splaying out over the sleek surface of the black hood to steady yourself. It’s so shiny you can almost see your reflection. “U-Us!” You finally manage to exclaim.

A kiss against the side of your neck, and your spirit just about exits your body. Your knees feel weak, and you're just about ready to throw another mediocre excuse his way, when something warm and wet traces up the column of your neck. “Kook!” You gasp.

“Shh,” he murmurs, deep voice instantly soothing over your nerves. His hips nudge against your behind, and you jump at the bulge that presses against your lower back. One hand unwraps from around you, gliding down your arm sensually until he’s trapping your fingers on the hood of the car with his own. A swift kiss against your ear. “You owe me, remember?”

You flush, remember the filthy promises your list-addled brain has spewed that night at your house, the almost erratic development of your thoughts as you became consumed in the thought of him. Reminisce on the prod of his fingers against your cunt, his hot breath against your ear.

Suddenly, Jungkook whirls you around, traps you with his gaze as two hands flutter to rest on the small of your back. He’s looking down at you with those lovesick eyes, hooded with lust as they trace over the dip of your Cupid’s bow. “You’ll do that for me, won’t you?” A soft brush of his mouth against yours, pouty lips guiding you through a kiss, until you’re sighing against him, and he’s pulling away.

Numbly, you nod, almost hypnotized by the soft smirk that overtakes his features as he pushes you down, watches you sink to your knees before him. The concrete feels cold and hard beneath your knees. His jumpsuit is knotted around his waist, and you shakily unravel it, the elastic waistband staring you in the face afterwards.

“Take your time,” Jungkook croons, hand coming to rest on the side of your face, knuckles brushing over your skin delicately.

You tug it down, and one flash of that underwear band has your nerves flying out the window. You shove his t-shirt out of the way, let your hands trail over the ridges of his abdomen in your haste. He helps you by tugging it over his head. With that gone, his black boxers stare you in the face, and you yank those down with no hesitation.

“Jesus, baby,” Jungkook chuckles, though it’s choked off when you grasp his engorged cock in his hand. You should be surprised, marveling at the sight, considering it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him like this. But you brain is working overtime, too immersed in the vein that runs alongside it and the tip that throbs back at you. Later you can worship it, you think. Right now, you needed it down your throat.

The tip is flaming and swollen, his cock still growing plump in your hold, your hands slowly dragging up and down the length. You lean forward, press a gentle kiss below the mushroom head, trail kisses down the length until you're meeting your knuckles, and trail them back again. Jungkook sucks in a tight breath, leans to rest his palms on the car behind you, as he watches you on him.

A head of precum escapes, and you lunge for it, swirl your tongue in and around the slit on his cock, until his entire body tenses up. “Fuck,” he grunts, watches you ease his cock into your mouth. You groan at the stretch, the drag against the corners of your lips making your eyes roll backwards. “___, baby, a little more?” He asks, voice hoarse as he watches you sink down further on his cock.

You comply, close your eyes and focus on relaxing your throat. There’s a hand on the back of your head, impatiently pushing you down his length. “Shit,” he cries, unconsciously ruts against you. You gag, and he shushes you with a caress against your cheek. “Sorry,” he huffs, “just a little more for me, okay?”

Eyes squeezed shut tightly, you let him push you down until his cock hits the back of your throat and you can’t take anymore. The prod against your throat has tears springing to your eyes. “Gonna move now,” Jungkook announces, thumb brushing away the tears that collect in the corners. “Be good.”

He drags himself out, your saliva coating every inch of him, and when just the tip is resting on your tongue, he shoves back in. You whimper, palms digging into his thighs. Jungkook brushes a hand down your hair, soothes you for all of two seconds before he’s pulling out and doing it all over again. He picks up the pace, loses himself in the feeling of your hot mouth around him, tongue dragging over his cock.

The feeling in your throat burns, each thrust of his hips against your mouth making your jaw more and more sore. But god, it feels good to have him so close, his scent swarming your sense, groans like music to your ears. You want to please him, want him to feel as good as you did at your place. You want it even more now that you know how he feels, know he’s probably thought about this before.

A brutal thrust has you gagging, throat contracting around his length. “Shh,” Jungkook sighs, the fingers buried in your hair flattening out to run over your head. “Doing so good for me, beautiful.”

You bask in the praise, let a hand flutter down to the apex of your thighs, pressing down to relieve some of the pressure. Jungkook groans, rolls his hips against you and keeps you there for a second. Your throat spasms, his dick pressed hotly against it, and you feel your panties grow embarrassingly sticky. Eventually, he draws back out.

“You like this?” He hums, rutting against you faster now, nose brushing against the sparse hairs on his pelvis with every slam of his hips. You nod around a gag, eyes clouding with tears, lips slippery with saliva and precum. One particular thrust is so hard, it nearly sends you knocking back into the car, Jungkook’s hand on the back of your head barely saving you. “Fucking hell,” he spits, “look so pretty with my cock shoved down your throat, princess.”

You moan around him, feel a subtle twitch against your tongue before he’s pulling himself out. “Shit,” he cursed, pushing you away as he goes to grab his own dick in his hand, tugging at it like a madman. “Wh-Where?” He asks, and you stare dumbly at the sight of him playing with himself, almost don’t realize he’s asking you a question.

You take too long, scramble for words too long, and even if you did have one your throat is far too sensitive yo answer. Jungkook grows impatient. Pulling you closer by the collar of your Chanel suit jacket, tugging it open until the flimsy buttons snap, and the tank top you wore beneath comes into view. He aims the tip of his cock towards your sternum, and a few jacks later, he’s coming, cum spurting against your chest. You watch the cum trail down between the valley of your breasts, until the feeling comes to rest against the inside wire of your bra, sticky and gross, sliding along the underside of your boobs. “Shit,” Jungkook repeats, eyes furrowed over you.

Your knees ache, and you nearly trip when you stand up, steadying yourself against the side of the car. Jungkook seems to regain his sense by then, hand trailing around your waist. You meet his eye, and almost immediately turn away, the blood in your face rapidly rising.

Jungkook laughs. “Don’t get shy on me now,” he teases, gets too close and your noses bump. “Sorry,” he smiles, too shiny and bright for the sinful acts you just committed in an auto shop.

“Put your dick away,” you huff, let him nuzzle closer to you, and when he doesn’t move to tuck himself into his pants, you go do it for him.

Jungkook frowns, swats your hand away. “This dick has places to be,” he informs you, and you scoff.

“Refractory period,” you remind him, and he rolls his eyes.

“Well I’m not exactly gonna stick it in you this instant,” he drawls. “Gotta stretch you out first.”

You go to complain, tell him he doesn’t have to over exert himself. Truthfully, with Jungkook you feel like one good session was enough to sustain you for weeks. After last time, your skin had flowed for an entire week. But then his hand is slithering up your backside, sneaking under your skirt to grab a handful of your ass.

There’s quickly drying drool collecting at the corners of your mouth, saliva from when he’d fucked your throat just a few moments prior, that he kisses away. His mouth slots over yours, and your heart and pussy both flutter at the kiss.

It’s gentle and sweet for all of ten seconds, his mouth moving against yours until you feel the wet press of his tongue against your bottom lip, tracing along until you open your mouth. He wastes no time shoving his tongue past your lips, letting it dance with yours as he pulls you closer, hands gripping the globes of your ass. You let him lick his way into your mouth, more and more saliva catching in the corners of your mouth until he’s pulling away with a wet pop.

He pulls away, doesn’t stray too far, proud smirk crossing his features at the sight of your slicked lips. “You liked that, didn’t you?”

“Huh?” You ask dumbly, tongue mindlessly swiping over your lips.

Jungkook’s eyes track the movement. “The saliva,” he clarifies. “The spit. You liked it at your place too,” he reminisces, moving in on you again. “Liked watching me slobber and spit all over your body. Isn’t that right, baby?”

You blush, discreetly rub your thighs together. “I-I do,” you admit, willing the warmth of your face away because at this distance he must certainly feel it.

Jungkook nods, doesn’t say anything else as he captures your lips a second time. He doesn’t bother with the gentle prodding anymore, jumping straight into tongue right away. He’s messier, letting his saliva coat your lips and drip down your mouth, and as messy as it is, you love it. You whimper when he pulls away, but gasp when his hand tugs at the hair by the nape of your neck, pulling you back until you’re looking up at him.

“Open,” he murmurs, and you do, tongue pressing against your bottom lip.

It should be disgusting, the rev of his throat, the sound of his saliva collecting, and the way his jaw shifts when he’s got enough. It should be filthy, the way he shoots it down your open lips, the way it splatters against the back of your throat. It should be gross, but god do you love it. “Swallow,” Jungkook commands, and you do, feel his spit drip down your throat like it’s your own, whimpering at the feeling. A quirk of his lips. “Good girl.”

You have to bite down the pride that grows in your chest.

Jungkook’s hands continue their mapping out of your behind, eventually ending with a hard squeeze that has you squealing. Automatically, your back arches in surprise, breasts pressing against Jungkook’s chest. He smirks down at you.

“Bet you taste good,” he says, pressing a kiss against your cheek. “Let me taste?”

“Please,” you beg, nearly losing your shit when he lifts you up onto the car, the cool metal making you jump, heel on your foot nearly kicking the side view mirror clean off. “Wait, Jungkook,” you sputter, glancing down at the sleek metal. “This is someone’s car.”

Jungkook ignores you, pushes your legs apart to slot himself between them. His palms run up your legs, over your thighs, until they’re toying with the hem of your skirt. Mocha eyes glance up at you, as if daring you to question him again, so you promptly zip your lips shut. The skirt goes, ever so slowly, over your thighs, bunches up at your waist until he’s staring at your lace panties.

He presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh, nose faintly brushing against your skin. The kisses trail over your skin, until he’s hovering over your panties, and he’s staring like a man starved. He gives no warning, suddenly leaning down to press his mouth over your party-clad folds, nose flush against your clit. “Kook!” You squeak, hands flying to clutch at his hair.

Jungkook mouths at you, drags his tongue against your panties until they’re soaked in both your essence and his saliva, just how you like. A hand slithers around your leg, wrapping around until he’s got a firm grip on it that he uses to hold it open.

“J-Just take them off,” you gasp, squirm when his mouth moves towards your clit, lapping against you. “Please,” you cry.

He doesn’t.

Jungkook tortures you with those kitten licks, muted through your panties, until you’re begging him to stop, to take them off and do it right. He loves it, you can tell, dazzling smile peeking up at you every time you tug against his hair, until finally, he’s had enough.

The underwear comes off, dangling uselessly by your ankle, and then the show really begins.

“Wait,” you choke, head falling back against the hood of the car when he finally gets his mouth on you, suctioning his lips around your swollen clit. The niggling reminder that this is some stranger’s car he’s eating you out on rings in your brain, and perhaps that’s what makes it more exciting.

His mouth is warm, tongue flicking over your sensitive bud like it’s candy and he needs the sugar. The sounds are so loud and wet, the squelching of your pussy every time he pulls off a pop that resounds throughout the garage. He pampers your clit for what seems like hours, switching the movements of his tongue every time he gets the chance until you’re quivering.

When you think he’s done, he’s not.

Fingers slide up your thigh, featherlight, as they reach your drenched cunt. They drag over your lips, and you mewl, feeling the muscles jump and tighten at his touches. “Jungkook, please,” you moan, rolling your hips against him, but it’s hard and everytime you move, you feel the sweat on your skin weigh you down, glued to the metal beneath you.

The first finger breaches you, just the tip of his index slowly wiggling inside. You muffle a moan in your palm, and Jungkook pulls away with a huff. “No hiding,” he warns, slowly lowering back to your cunt with a stern glare. You nod, but can’t help it when his second finger pushes its way in and you bite down on your knuckles.

“Oh,” You sob, body quivering as he begins scissoring his two fingers inside you. With your attention focused on the digits sheathed inside you, he pulls away from your clit, bestowing one final kiss against it that has your foot kicking out wildly. “Th-there.” His other hand catches your palm in his, presses it against the metal by your head.

Jungkook smiles, curls his fingers around until he finds the soft spot inside you that turns you to jelly. “There we go, beautiful,” he purrs, pushing himself to his full height, leaning over your trembling form. “So sweet for me,” he sighs, licks his lips like he’s remembering your taste.

“I'm gonna,” you choke, become hypnotized by the dark cloud in his gaze, the arrogant smirk on his lips. He curls his fingers, palm brushing against your abandoned clit. The touch makes you jump, nerves tingling.

“Cum for me,” he encourages, silky tone swarming your head as your pleasure slowly washes over you. It’s probably the most relaxed orgasm you’ve had in your entire life, his low voice and delighted eyes guiding you through it, until your entire body clenches, dissolving in a puddle of contentment. Your arousal surges around his fingers, trickling down onto the metal.

“Oh, Jungkook,” you pant, overwhelmed from the touches and the kisses. Jungkook’s smile gets swallowed by your greedy mouth, desperate for more kisses now that he’s made you feel like this.

The kisses only placate him for so long, and when he presses his body against yours, there’s an awfully hard cock that slides against your dripping cunt. “Think you can go again, gorgeous?” He murmurs against your jaw, nipping at the skin on the way down. You nod, eyes falling shut at the warmth you feel in your bones.

Jungkook kisses your neck one last time, before leaning back once more to line himself up.

This was a scene straight from your teenage fantasies, a dripping, shirtless Jungkook at full mast between your thighs, looking at you so lovingly. It makes your heart thunder, imagining how long you could have been doing this if you weren’t both so stupid. As if reading your thoughts, Jungkook rubs a palm over your thigh, eyebrow quirked. You nod his concern away, squirm closer until the tip of his cock nudges against your hole.

“Fuck,” Jungkook sighs, moving his hands to your hips as he slowly pushes in. His fingers, bless their intentions, could have never prepared you for the size of Jungkook’s cock, thick and veiny as it pushes inside. You whimper, clawing at the hands on your waist that stop you from impaling yourself on it fully. “Waited so long for this.”

“Then fucking do it,” you beg, nearly pass out when he shoves in harshly at your tone. “J-Jung—“

“I got you, baby,” he assures you, jostles you until you’re flush against his cock, clit brushing against his pelvis. Your back arches, and Jungkook slips his arm around you, the other lingering on your waist.

Every subtle shift has him brushing along your swollen clit, and you sob at the sensation, begging him to move. He complies, changes his stance to make it easier, and finally begins thrusting into your throbbing pussy.

“So good,” he huffs, eyes zeroed in on where the two of you meet. You would have looked too, if your body hadn’t felt so completely boneless beneath him, the grinding of his cock sending shocks of pleasure up your spine. “So pretty and mine.”

“Yours,” you choke, heart swelling in your chest at his words. It’s almost animalistic, the way he ducks down to bite at your neck, like some animal staking its claim, and you like it. You like it because it’s all you ever dreamed of for so long. “Faster, Kook,” you urge, wrapping your arms around him.

He does as you say, slow and careful thrusts transitioning into a fast piston that would have had you bouncing out of his reach if he wasn’t holding you so tightly. “Fuck,” he chokes, lost in the way you clench around him, lips dragging against his cock with each thrust. “Baby,” he grunts, sweat trailing down his temple, eyes furrowed shut. Eventually, his head falls into the crook of your neck, his weight pressing down on you uncomfortably, subtle ridges on the hood making you ache. At this point, you’re too far gone to care. “All I ever wanted,” he gasps.

You could cry, right now and he’d pull out right away, big heart fretting over your emotional well-being. Which is exactly why you hold your emotions in, let yourself get fully immersed in the feeling of Jungkook pounding you against some stranger’s car and not the inevitable emotional crash you’ll have later.

He fucks like he’s waited all his life for this, and you guess he sort of has if what he’s saying is true. You have no doubt it is, and when his lips suck a mark against your neck, you feel like you’re in heaven. “Almost,” you pant, legs wrapping around his waist tightly. Jungkook nods, his hair tickling your jaw and neck, as he picks up the pace. Your cunt swallows him up every single time, suctions him in until he’s shaking, and so are you.

It can only last for so long, your heart and body eventually reaching their peak, and you unravel. His arms are there to catch you, to pick up the pieces and hold you together. You want to cry, you really do, and when the coil in your stomach snaps, you finally do. “I love you,” you sob, and Jungkook shudders, glances at your tear-struck face to push himself off.

“Love you too,” he mumbles, grinds his cock against your spasming folds one last time, and comes mid-thrust, cum spurting inside you. He holds you, just like you knew he would, as you come down from your highs, hot breath fanning across your skin.

You feel warm, loved, and in love, body trembling in sensitivity afterwards. He’s pulled out since, soothingly rubbing a hand against your side. You’d like to say you wouldn’t be anywhere else, but one shift reminds you of where you are.

“Shit,” you groan, taking in your surroundings before letting your head fall back against the hood. Jungkook hums, round eyes looking your way. “We really just confessed and had sex on some stranger’s car.”

Jungkook snorts, leans away just the slightest to look you in the eye. He’s lost in thought, chocolate irises swirling as they drink you in. “Say thanks to Taehyung,” he finally says.

You roll your eyes, and when you shift beneath him, your sweaty skin sticks uncomfortably against the metal hood. “Yeah, let me thank Taehyung for dating me for three days and awakening your crush,” you huff sarcastically, resigning yourself to your new life stuck against the hood of some classic automobile from the 50s. Jungkook laughs, tucks himself back into his underwear. “Thanks Taehyung, for your noble sacrifice ten years ago that allowed me to fuck Jungkook on some stranger’s car—“

Jungkook hums, snuggles closer to you. “Tae’s car.”

“—after confessing our—Taehyung’s car?” You shriek, sitting up with the strength of three football players, Jungkook toppling off you. “Oh my god. No.” Jungkook rubs his elbow where he knocked it against the hood, looks at you with solemn eyes. Slowly, a smirk crawls over his features. “No,” you gasp, mortification crawling up your spine. “We didn’t.”

He tugs you off the car, tugs your skirt down when you wobble on unsteady heels. “Yup,” he says, pops the end of the word like a child. “Say hello to Taehyung’s new car!” He exclaims, patting the hood you just defiled. “Straight from the car auction he went to this morning,” he beams.

“Oh my god,” you groan, covering your face with your hands when you finally spot the puddles of... something on the black hood. “This is terrible.”

Jungkook ignores you, wipes up the mess with some napkins from his takeout bag, but there’s already some that's dried, only fueling your mortification. “Not like he’ll find out,” he shrugs, then narrows his eyes at you. “Or will he?”

“No!” You stutter, carefully rounding the car as if inspecting it for any more signs of the treacherous things you and Jungkook did on or around it. “I-I won’t tell him.”

“Uh huh,” Jungkook teases, settles on that rolling stool and pushes himself towards you. There’s a hand easing itself around your waist, tugging you between open legs. Still in shock, your hands flutter around his neck, muscle memory causing you to immediately begin massaging the skin there.

Jungkook sighs into the touch, eyes falling shut. “Too bad Jimin’s not here,” he sighs, and you visibly see his nose grow in arrogance. 

“What? Why should Jimin be here?” You ask, pushing your fingers against the knots in his neck. 

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed, one-eyed glare. He scoffs, “maybe you are as dumb ad Taehyung says.” And then, “hey!” when you tug his ear. He isn’t upset, just tugs you closer until his face is buried against your stomach. “You know country folk like him marry on the spot right?”

“What are you even saying,” you huff, burying your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging his head back to properly look at him. “Why do you care who Jimin marries?” He doesn’t bother answering. 

Instead, Jungkook sighs into the touch, an easygoing smile thrown your way, and for a moment you forget about the trauma Taehyung will have when he inevitably learns about this. “This is the life.”

#goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #jungkook fic #mine

[kireimarkeu]

No Contact

+another repost! i did not make any changes to this work.

summary; mark as your secret boyfriend.. but the both of you aren’t very discreet..

i was inspired by this drabble… so cute

5.1k words..

i swear i tried not to make it too long but it was so hard… also the ending is kinda funny lmfao!!!! im so funny

anw i hope you guys enjoyed this…? bc this was so so so fun to make although it’s lowkey kinda empty bc i didn’t want to make it too long!!! but yes hopefully you like it!! okkk bye!! njoy hehehehehe <3

+Day 18 3:32PM

You were holding Mark’s hands tightly, talking happily about anything and everything. 

That was why you loved Mark; he made you feel so comfortable, you could talk to him for hours and never get tired. He’s someone who you would need in a friend group to make everything less awkward. 

“And so, Yeri fell and we all laughed!” you told him, laughing at the old memory. 

You used to work as a choreographer for Red Velvet, but after a while, you decided to stop since it was affecting your studies a lot. While working with SM, you met the boys, and that was how you met the rest of NCT. 

When you didn’t get a response from Mark, you turned to look at Mark, only to find him frozen, staring ahead. 

“Mark?” you call, turning to see what he was staring at. Your eyes widened when you saw Jaehyun and Doyoung crossing the traffic light. “Oh, fuck.”

“Shit,” your boyfriend cursed, “we need to go,” he tells you, tightening his grip on your hand. 

The both of you speed walk to the opposite direction, hoping his members wouldn’t walk the same path as the both of you. Mark let out another string of curses when he saw his members walking behind them. 

Mark suddenly pulled you into a random store, trying to lose his friends. He pulled you deeper in the store, hiding the both of you from the main entrance. 

Your boyfriend was standing so close to you, the proximity making you nervous. You could feel your heart beating quickly as your cheeks flush red. Your hands going up to press them against Mark’s chest, pushing him back slightly. 

Mark didn’t notice, too distracted on finding his friends. When he noticed that he has lost his friends, he pulled away from a breathless you. His hands smoothly pull yours away from his chest. 

“I think they’re gone— wait, why are you so red?”

+Day 24 11:22PM

You were laying on the couch, playing with your phone while your boyfriend worked on some music that he has been writing for the past few days. 

“Mark~” you whine, your eyes were still stuck on your phone. You just wanted to disturb him for fun. 

Suddenly the door of the studio opened, Taeyong stumbling in as he stared at you and Mark in shock. 

“What are you doing here?” Taeyong asks you. 

“Uh…” you drag out, turning to look at your boyfriend for help. He looked at you then he quickly looked back at Taeyong. 

“I was making a new song for our Japan stage and had y/n help me with the choreography and all,” Mark explained, letting out an embarrassed chuckle. 

That was a lie. Well, not really. Mark did need help with the choreography, but at the same time he wanted you to be there to accompany him. Your presence calms him.

Taeyong remained silent as his eyes went back and forth between you and Mark.

“Should I leave?” you ask awkwardly, looking at your boyfriend then back at Taeyong. When you didn’t get a response, you stood up ready to grab your things.

The older man shook his head, “no, no, stay,” he tells you, walking further in, “I just didn’t know the both of you were so close,” he says while taking a seat next to your boyfriend. 

You let out a chuckle, “we’re close, you guys just didn’t know,”

+Day 33 9:02PM

After Taeyong found out how close Mark was with you, he wouldn’t stop inviting you to the dorm to hang out with the rest of the boys. 

“So, what movie are we watching today?” asks Taeyong as he took a seat next to Doyoung. 

You and Mark were seating next to each other. Mark was sitting at the very end while Jaehyun was sitting on the other side of you. Mark and you was sharing a blanket, your hands placed on your lap. 

“Parasite?” suggests Taeil. 

Loud whines filled the room, “we’ve all watched it, Taeil-ah,” whined Johnny. 

“Y/n, have you watched it?” asks Taeyong, turning to look at you. 

You shook your head. You were told it was pretty graphic and scary and you hated anything that has got to do with blood. 

And Mark knew that, so he would always avoid watching scary movies with you. 

“Should we watch it again? Since y/n hasn’t watched it?” suggests Taeyong, looking at the members for confirmation. The rest of the boys nod their head in agreement.

“Hyung,” your boyfriend voices out, “I don’t think—”

“No,” you quickly deny with a smile, “let’s watch it,”

Taeyong shrugs and plays the movie. 

Mark bit his lip.

A few minutes later, you felt your phone vibrate, you noticed it was Mark who has texted you. You turn to look at Jaehyun, making sure he wasn’t looking. You lowered the brightness of your phone before opening Mark’s text message. 

Markie Pooh: will you be okay?

You turn to look at Mark, but he was staring at the TV screen with a straight face. 

You bit back a smile as you typed a reply. 

You: yes, don’t worry abt me :) 

Mark quickly looked down at his phone to see your reply before keeping his phone away again. Your boyfriend let out a cough before shifting nearer to you until your shoulders were touching. 

You tried to hide your smile by looking down before looking back up, trying to keep a straight face. 

Mark had already watched the movie with the boys when it first came out. He knew when there was going to be a bloody scene. 

So, before the scene started, he had secretly reached for your hand under the blanket. 

You felt his fingers slowly reaching for yours, letting his fingers lace with yours. You tightly grip his hands, not wanting to let go. When you saw the bloody scene, your grip on your boyfriend’s hands tightened as he soothingly strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, hoping it would calm you. 

His fingers on yours distracted you from the graphic show that was playing. You were smiling like a crazy woman as Mark continued to stroke your hand with his thumb. 

“Are you… smiling?” asks Jaehyun as he turned to look at you weirdly. His question made everyone in the room to stare at you. 

Your eyes widen, shaking your head profusely. “No, I wasn’t,”

Johnny nodded, “you did, I saw you,”

At this point, Mark had already pulled his hand away from yours as he stares at you with amusement.

“I wasn’t smiling! It was a scary scene, why would I be smiling?” you ask them, crossing your arms defensively. 

Donghyuck lets out a sigh, “I think we all know y/n just loves horror,”

Taeil nodded, “yeah, she feeds of dead people,”

“Excuse me?!” you screech, throwing a pillow at Taeil, “what does that— no I don’t!”

The boys let out a roar of laughter, amused at how defensive you were acting.

Markie Pooh: you like that, huh? ;)

You looked down at your phone, letting out a soft scowl before reaching under the blanket to pinch Mark’s thigh. 

Mark let out a quiet squeal as he pushed your hand away. 

+Day 49 10:01PM

You were listening to Mark talk about his day. You couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he was; his pouty lips and chubby cheeks which you so desperately want to pinch. 

“Babe, are you listening?” Mark asks with a frown, noticing how you haven’t moved for the past few minutes. 

You nodded, “yes I am, baby,” you replied. 

Mark grins, “okay,” and he went back to talking about his best friend, Donghyuck. 

After hanging out with the boys for a couple of time, you and Donghyuck became close as well. Maybe because he was your boyfriend’s best friend, but you and him just got along so well that the both of you even started texting almost every day.

“So, what did you do today, babe?” asks Mark, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“Huh? Oh, well I didn’t do anything today,” you tell him, “I cleaned my house a little bit then I took a nap,”

He puffs his cheeks out, “it’s a good thing you didn’t go out today, the air quality is really bad.”

He was always taking care of you; it always made your heart flutter. Mark was always looking out for you despite him being busy himself. Sometimes he would forget to take care of himself which always resulted in you lecturing him. 

Mark was in the middle of saying something when someone barged in his room, screaming. 

“MARK LEE!” you recognised it was Taeil’s voice. 

Mark quickly hid his phone, resting it on his chest. 

“Ah, Hyung, what are you doing here? What do you want?” you heard him ask.

You decided to mute your mic, just to be safe. 

“Why? Can’t I come in and talk to you?” asks Taeil. 

You suddenly heard a loud huff from Mark, as his phone fell off his chest and onto his white sheets. You assumed Taeil was laying on him. 

“Ah~ get out,” whined Mark, pushing the elder off him. 

You heard Taeil click his tongue. “who are you talking to? Your girlfriend?” he asks, “MARK HAS A GIRLFRIEND!” yell Taeil as you laugh out loud. 

Luckily your mic was on mute.

“I don’t have a girlfriend!” groans Mark as he stood up to push his member out of his room. He quickly locked the door before jumping back to bed, grabbing his phone. 

You unmute your mic. 

“Hi,” you giggle. 

He let out a huff, but letting out a shy smile, “Hi, so, where were we?”

+Day 57 7:57PM

Mark entered your house after taking off his shoes. He quietly took a seat at the very end couch. 

It was hard for the both of you to visit each other especially with the boys around, so you decided to have dates at your place instead. It was a good idea since no one could come over and interrupt the both of you. 

“Are you okay?” you ask Mark, noticing how he was so stiff. 

He nodded hesitantly, “it’s just…”

You waited for him to finish his sentence. 

“-awkward,” he finishes, looking up at you. 

You laugh at his words, “why?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know! I’ve never been to your place.”

Amused, you scoot closer to your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his, leaning up to whisper in his ear. 

“There’s no one else here, Mark.”

You liked teasing him. You enjoyed how he would freeze up at your words. Or when his cheeks would turn a bright red colour. Or how his palms would turn a little sweaty. 

Pulling away from you, he quickly stood up, shaking his head. “No, no, that’s not what we’re going to do.” He tells you, stepping further away from you as you looked up at him in enjoyment. 

“We’re here to watch a movie,” he says, “that’s all.”

He was convincing himself. 

+Day 69 4:13PM

Marker: babe ):

You: what

Marker: I miss you ):

Marker: )))))):

You chuckled at his texts. 

Marker: what are you doingggggg

You: I’m watching a drama

You: what are you doing?

Marker: practice ):

Marker: so bored wo u here

Marker: miss your pretty face ):

You: stop it with the sad emojis!! >:(

Marker: ):

Marker: ):

Marker: ):

Marker: ))):

You: bye

You: I’m going to put my phone on dnd

Marker: nooo don’t leave me baby

Marker: okokokokok I’ll behave

You: good

Annoying boy: hehe

Annoying boy: wht are u up to babyyyy

Annoying boy: wait I already asked that

You: yes u did, u loser

Annoying boy: can I come over later?

You: y 

Annoying boy: causeee I miss u 

You: fine but not too long

You: I don’t want the boys to be all suspicious

Annoying boy: ok bb!!! I won’t hehehe ok

Annoying boy: I have to go now!!

Annoying boy: ily!! Bye bye 

You: see you later

+Day 74 2:36AM

You had one of your leg bent on Mark’s thigh, your hand resting on his chest. He has one arm around your neck for comfort. 

“Mark,” you sigh. 

Mark’s eyes were glued on his phone but let out a hum at the mention of his name. His fingers stroke your shoulder as a sign to assure you that he was listening. 

“We haven’t gone on a date in so long,” you say sadly, drawing hearts on his chest with your finger.

Mark put his phone down, “you wanna go on a date?”

You look up at him and nodded. 

When he made eye contact with you, he couldn’t help but press his lips on your forehead, “okay, but we can’t get caught,”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend’s neck, pulling yourself up so you could press kisses all over his face. Mark’s face scrunch at the ticklish feeling of your lips.

“tickles,” he giggles, pulling his face away from you. 

You pout when he pulls away from you. Your eyes slowly trail off his face to his hair; your fingers automatically going up to play with the black strands. 

Fuck, Mark literally just fell in love with you. 

He enjoyed the position that the both of you were in. You- laying on top of him while he had both hands resting on your waist, staring up at you lovingly. 

“I love your black hair, Mark,” you mumble, eyes stuck on the boy’s hair. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nod, “never dye it any other colour,” you look down at him, “or I’ll get mad,” you joke. 

He laughs, “Anything for my girl,”

Your boyfriend’s hands that was resting on your waist, went up to stroke your back softly. He put a little pressure on your back, pushing you down to capture your lips in his. 

+Day 80 11:22PM

It was another movie night with the boys.

This time it was Donghyuck who had invited you over since promotions are over. 

You walked over to sit next to Mark, but you heard Donghyuck whine your name. 

“Sit with me~”

You let out a smile, sitting next to Haechan. The boy immediately grabs your arm, wrapping it around his shoulders before cuddling against you. 

Your met Mark’s gaze from across the room. You could tell he was pissed from the way he was nibbling on his lip and clenching his fist. He looked away, typing into his phone. 

You felt your phone vibrate, knowing it was from Mark. You didn’t bother checking the message because it was too risky, especially with Haechan cuddled to your side. 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

A few hours and lots of movies of later, the boys finally grew tired and decided to call it a night.

Since it was too late for you to head back home, the boys offered you to sleep over. You told them you would take the couch. They were a little hesitant to let a girl sleep on the couch, but you managed to convince them. 

It wasn’t like you would be sleeping on the couch anyway. 

Once you were sure that everyone was in their respective rooms, you quietly sneaked into your boyfriend’s bedroom. 

“Mark?” you whisper, opening the door quietly. 

When you saw the mop of black hair laying on the pillow, you smile, closing the door quietly, your feet padding towards the bed. 

You pull the blanket down so you could lay next to your lover. You rest your arm on his waist as you snuggle closer to him. 

“Hi handsome,” you whisper, letting out a giggle as you stare at his pretty face. A frown replaced your smile when he didn’t reply to you. “Are you okay, baby?”

Mark could only pout. You pout along with him, the hand resting on his waist going up to push away the stray hair from his face. 

“Why are you pouting?” you ask quietly, pressing a kiss to his pouty lips. 

He pouts even more, “why did you sit with Haechan just now? Why didn’t you sit with me?”

You bit back a grin that was forming, “why? Were you jealous?”

He frowns and shook his head, “no! why would I be jealous of Haechan?”

“Really?” you ask, “if you’re not jealous then I’ll sit with Haechan from now on,” you tease, your fingers now caressing his exposed chest. 

He shrugs, “fine by me,”

You suddenly stood up, letting his arm fall on your lap, “actually, I’ll even go sleep with him,” you continued to pester Mark, enjoying the way it was bothering him. 

“Hey!” he whisper-shout, his hands wrapped on your wrist, stopping you from getting out of bed, “You can’t do that!”

You chuckle, laying back down with your boyfriend, “I won’t, dummy,” you flick his forehead.

He lets out a satisfied sigh, pulling you closer until his cheeks were resting on the top of your head. 

“You’re mine. Mine only.”

+Day 89 12:35AM

The both of you were on facetime again. 

Despite being only 30 minutes apart, the both of you couldn’t meet; not wanting anyone to catch the both of you. Furthermore, you felt bad, since Mark had just finished practice, it would be tiring for him to come over your place. 

There was a sudden knock on Mark’s door. Your boyfriend hastily hid his phone and you naturally mute your mic. 

“You busy?” you heard someone ask, from the voice, you assumed it was Taeyong. 

“No,” Mark reply. 

“Were you talking to someone? Is it y/n?” asks Taeyong. 

Mark pretend to grimace at your name, “why would I be calling y/n?”

Taeyong shrugs, “we all kinda assumed you had a crush on y/n,”

“Ew,” Mark shook his head, “I’ll never like y/n,” he says, “she’s not even my type.”

You knew he was just saying that to stop the suspicions of the both of you dating but what he said actually hurts. 

“Really?” Taeyong questions, “we were so sure you would like y/n,”

“I swear, Hyung. Y/N isn’t even my type, her personality isn’t even my type,” Mark tries to persuade the older boy. 

Now that actually really hurts. 

You weren’t sure if he was just lying or saying the truth. 

You couldn’t bare to listen another second of their conversation, so you immediately hung up. 

Markie: baby

Markie: whyd u end the call haha

Markie: Taeyong’s gone call me back hehe

2 missed calls

Markie: why are you not picking up??

1 missed call

Markie: call me baaackkkk babe

Markie: did u fall asleep?? Haha

Markie: but it’s so early tho :(

Markie: I guess you’re asleep~

Markie: ok goodnight baby sleep tight dream of me :3

Markie: I love youuuuuuuu

+Day 90 12:46PM

Markie: good morning my love

Markie: can we call??

Markie: I kinda miss you haha 

1 missed call

Markie: heeyyyyy

Markie: are you ignoring me?

Markie: I didn’t want to think you were ignoring me, but I feel like you r

Markie: did I do something wrong? :/

Markie: can you tell me what it is at least?

Markie: at least we can talk it out or at least I can apologize?

Markie: babe

You: why did you say that

Markie: say what?

You: yesterday

You: what you said about me

You: tht I wasn’t your type nd all 

Markie: call me

Few seconds later, you received a call from your boyfriend. You answered the call, placing your phone on your ear. 

“I didn’t mean what I said,” he quickly says, “I just wanted to convince him that we weren’t dating,”

You were quiet for a while; you could hear Mark’s heavy breathing. You knew he was stressed with work and all, and you being sulky definitely wasn’t helping him. 

You let out a sigh, “I know.”

“Was it too much?” he asks you. 

“No,” you answer, “I just, I was just overthinking it and—”

“I get it,” he cuts you off, “don’t worry about it,”

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, “I know you’re really busy and stressed over work and I’m just making you feel worse by overthinking and all—”

“Hey,” he cuts you off again, “Don’t worry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

You couldn’t help but feel sorry.

“Sorry,” you apologised again. 

“Apologize one more time and I’ll end the call,” he jokes. 

+Day 100 8:35PM

Mark hid his hands behind his back, holding the small box in his hand tightly as he faced you with a cheeky smile. 

“What do you have behind your back, Mark Lee?” you ask, squinting your eyes at him suspiciously. 

It was your 100th day together, and since the both of you couldn’t go out to celebrate, the both of you agreed to celebrate at your place instead. 

Since Mark couldn’t make it special for you, he decided to get you a present, just to make-up for all the secret dates. 

“It’s a present,” he answers cheekily. “I got you something to make up for all the secret dates,”

You pout at his words, “I’m okay with all the sneaking around, Mark,”

Your hands going up to his jaw, your thumb caressing his cheek softly. Mark loves your touches; he couldn’t help but lean into your touch. 

Tilting his head a little, he pressed a small kiss against your palm, one of his hands reaching to grab your hands in his. 

“I bought it because I think you’ll look good in it,” he tells you, pulling out the box from behind. 

You gasp when you saw the Tiffany & Co. box. 

“Mark,” you exclaim, looking up at him, “that’s expensive!”

“You haven’t even seen it yet!” he laughs. 

He slowly opens the box, showing off the elegant 18k diamond necklace. 

Your hands went up to your mouth, gasping. 

“Mark Lee,” you shook your head, “you’re fucking crazy,”

He smiles, satisfied with your reaction, “do you like it?”

“Are you crazy? It’s beautiful!” you tell him. “But all I bought for you were $15 chocolates but here you are— gifting me an 18k diamond necklace!”

Mark giggles, pulling out the necklace from it’s box. 

“Turn around,” he murmurs. You automatically turn around, pulling your hair to one side so he could easily put the necklace on you. 

He swiftly place the pretty necklace around your neck, pinning it. You turn around to face him. 

“Pretty?” you ask him, tilting your head a little. 

“Gorgeous,” he responds, a smirk playing on his lips.

Just as you were about to reply, you heard a knock on your door. Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion, who would come over at this timing?

Mark frowns, “did you invite someone?”

You shook your head, “No, stay here, I’ll go see who it is.”

You stood up, walking to your door, checking the peephole, finding out who is on the other side of the door. You let out a soft gasp when you saw Donghyuck standing behind the door. 

You quickly kick Mark’s shoes under the cabinet at the front door then running over to your boyfriend. 

“Who—”

You grabbed Mark’s arms, pulling him up. “Fuck, it’s Haechan,”

He let you pull him into your bedroom with furrowed eyebrows, “why is he here?”

You shake your head, pushing Mark into your walk-in wardrobe, “I have no idea. Stay here, I’ll try to distract him, okay?”

You didn’t even let him answer, already rushing out, making sure to close your bedroom door. 

When you opened the door, Haechan immediately walked in, whining on how you were taking forever to answer the door. 

It has been 15 minutes and Haechan still hasn’t left and Mark was growing tired and sweaty in your wardrobe.

Baby Mark: is he still there

You: yeah

Baby Mark: fuuuck

Baby Mark: tell him to leave

Baby Mark: it’s so hot in here :(

You: I’m trying!! He just won’t leave

You: are you okay in there

Baby Mark: no

You: fine just get out of the wardrobe and stay in my room

You: sorry

You: make sure u lock the door and don’t make too much noise

Baby Mark: okay

+Day 101 2:34AM

You let out a heavy sigh when Donghyuck finally left. Closing your eyes tightly, you let out another heavy breath. You could finally sit down and rest. 

Oh shit— Mark!

You ambled towards your bedroom, twisting it open, realising it wasn’t locked. 

This little shit. 

When you walked in your bedroom, you were met with your boyfriend laying on your bed, hugging one of your pillows, asleep. Your heart warmed at the sight, you felt bad making him wait for hours when it was your 100th day as a couple. 

Walking closer, you climbed in next to him. Your hands caressed his hair and his pretty face. 

“I’m sorry for making you wait for so long,” you whisper. 

You didn’t know what made you so emotional, but you couldn’t help but tear up. 

You really didn’t know why. Maybe because he had gone out of his way just to see you. And maybe because he had to wait for hours just for you and in the end both of you couldn’t celebrate the special day. 

“You’re the best boyfriend I could ever ask for—” you choked a sob, a hand going up to cover your mouth. 

Taking a deep breath, you continue, “You do so much for me and I’m always messing up.”

For once, you were thankful that your boyfriend was a heavy sleeper. 

“I love you, Mark,” you mumble, your eyes scanning his face, appreciating everything about him. “Remember that.”

After wiping your dried tears, you slide next to him, removing the pillow that was between you two. Snuggling right into his arms, your head resting on his chest while his cheek was pressed on the crown of your head. 

“I love you,” you whisper one last time before falling into a deep slumber. 

+Day 124 7:28PM

The dome was filled with loud voices, everyone was holding their green NCT lightsticks. You felt out of place, especially when you didn’t have any kind of lightstick or poster on you. 

You nervously took a seat on your assigned seat, waiting for your boyfriend to come out. 

NCT was holding a concert after a while and Taeyong had given you free tickets to support them. 

Mark had actually gotten hold of an extra ticket for you and was about to surprise you but found out that his members had already invited you. He was a little bummed out about it but shrugged it off. 

The light dimmed and the crowd started cheering. The girls around you started squealing in excitement. 

Soon, the boys started performing. When your boyfriend’s face was on the screen, you couldn’t help but grin at his cute face. 

The fans next to you would squeal and gush at how adorable your boyfriend is. You were proud that he was your boyfriend, sadly you couldn’t show him off. 

At the end of the concert, the boys lined up in the middle of the huge stage. They started thanking the fans for coming and supporting them. 

“But I think Mark is really happy today,” Jaehyun suddenly blurted out, turning to face Mark. 

The camera started zooming in to your boyfriend’s face. 

Mark’s eyes widen , confused, “what, why? Why?”

“Because his girlfriend is here!” Jaehyun screams into the mic as the boys let out a string of weird noises. 

Mark froze on the spot as everyone went crazy over the statement. 

“Wha—”

“Okay, we will end this concert here! Thank you everyone for coming!”

Before everyone was even ready to leave, you had already run to meet your boyfriend back stage. 

Fuck, did Jaehyun actually say that?

You’re met with the sweaty boys laughing in the dressing room. 

“What the fuck was that?” you ask breathlessly as you scan each of the boys facial expression. 

“Uh oh, his girlfriend is here,” joked Johnny, staring at you with amusement. 

Mark turned to stare at the boys, “you guys knew?!”

“You guys weren’t very discreet.”

You were already standing next to your boyfriend, “how did you guys know?”

“You really think we won’t see the both of you holding hands in a public place?” scoffs Doyoung. 

Taeyong shrugs, “Mark never brings girls to the recording room.”

Your face turned red at Taeyong’s comment as Mark groans at his words. 

“And you think I wouldn’t see you guys holding hands under the blanket? Jesus,” sighs Jaehyun, rolling his eyes. 

“Fuck you,” Mark replies while Jaehyun flashes the middle finger to his friend. 

“Also, you talk way too loud y/n,” Taeil says, Taeyong immediately agreeing with him. 

“Or maybe the walls are too thin?” Taeyong questions. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper, embarrassed. “So, you guys heard everything?”

“Wish we didn’t,” shrugs Johnny. 

Mark had quietly reached for your hand, a habit he had whenever he’s nervous. 

“Also, I knew Mark was at your place, that’s why I came over,” laughs Haechan. 

You had let go of Mark’s hands to stomp over to the boy, hitting his back. “Lee Donhyuck! Did you know how long he had to wait in my wardrobe?!”

Haechan rolls his eyes, “oh please, you let him out because he was sweating.”

You let out a loud gasp, “you knew that too?!”

“Which idiot would put their password as 0000?”

“You went through my phone?!” you raised your voice, hitting the boy on the back once more. 

With furrowed eyebrows you frown and let out a sigh, “now what? Everyone knows Mark has a girlfriend,”

“I checked Twitter,” Jungwoo says, “some weren’t very happy but there are many who are supportive,”

Your frown deepens. You knew this would happen. It would affect Mark’s career badly; that was the main reason the both of you kept your relationship a secret. 

You turn to look at your boyfriend who was looking incredibly stressed right now. 

“Don’t worry y/n,” assures Johnny, you turn to look at him. “Mark is one of the most experienced and hardworking people in SM, I’m sure they’ll let you both off,”

You had your arms crossed defensively, “are you okay with this, Mark?”

You were worried for your boyfriend. 

You knew how much being on stage meant to him. He would do anything to continue performing. 

“I…I think so?” he says after a minute of pure silence. 

You pout slightly at his words. 

“I just wanna rest right now, I’m tired.”

The boys quickly agree with the younger. Everyone started standing up, grabbing their bags, leaving the room. 

You stayed with your boyfriend, accompanying him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask him again. 

He kept letting out sad sighs and it was concerning you. 

“Honestly,” he started, “I don’t know,” he turns to look at you. 

The palm of your hands automatically going up to stroke his back, attempting to comfort him. 

“I just… I just wanna be with you right now,”

You lean closer to him. “Okay.”

“Whatever it is,” he says, “we will go through it together.”

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