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#I’m so ready for this slow burn that isn’t really a slow burn
hwangyeddeongie · 2 months
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yeji: *hugs ryujin*
ryujin: what is this
yeji: love and affection
ryujin: disgusting
ryujin:
ryujin: do it again
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ahundredtimesover · 4 months
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I Want You to Stay (02) | JJK
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Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut
Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)
Chapter Word count: 11.9k
Series Masterlist
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Status: Ongoing
Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.
Playlist 🎶: on the way home
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A/N: Hiii really touched with all the love for this story! I don’t know about you but this hits harder with all the boys away and we’re missing them so badly. But we’ve got this! 💕 But thank you thank you for all the messages (sorry I can’t get to each one!) and the interest and excitement. Hope you enjoy this one ☺️
And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰
PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!
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Despite hoping that he wouldn’t, Jungkook, in fact, pushes you further away on his second day on the job. 
To his defense, it was partly your fault. You smiled at him last night - perhaps due to your delicious dinner that you didn’t even know was from him - and it disarmed him. 
The words you uttered after just flew over his head and he just nodded, too out of it to confirm what you’d said. It probably had something to do about you not coming to his penthouse, because it’s Tuesday morning and you’re still not here. He’d expected that like yesterday, you'd prepare his breakfast, and after all that transpired, debrief after yesterday’s meetings and discuss the next steps. That was his routine with Lucas, and for all the things that you seemed to know and do right - from his room design, the doneness of his eggs, and his coffee - this was a miss. 
“Aren’t you supposed to be assisting me from the start of the day?” Jungkook says over the phone, his tone sounding annoyed. “I’ve been waiting for you since 6:30.”
Your heart drops at his words, the memory from last night of him agreeing to you sticking to the same schedule you had with Hoseok suddenly feeling like some made up scenario. You remember telling Jungkook that you go straight to the office the rest of the week; you’d only go to Hoseok’s house on Mondays to prepare his clothes and brief him because he’s able to manage from Tuesday onwards. Your new boss, for some reason, perhaps misheard your question. And now you’re the one in trouble. 
“I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you bring yourself to say, your voice in a panic because regardless of who’s in the wrong, making him wait is not a good start to his day nor yours, and especially not to your already rocky relationship. “I can get a cab then head to you.”
“So you want me to wait for you some more?” He chides, his dry laugh making you want to throw your phone just so you won’t hear his voice anymore. “Just stay wherever you are, but I want the meeting minutes from yesterday ready when I get there since you’re not here to go over them with me.”
Jungkook hangs up and your head thumping on your desk is immediate. It’s barely the start of the day and you already want to go back home and probably never come back. 
You left the office at 9 last night, knowing you were too exhausted to continue working on the annotated documents, and then got soaked in the rain on your way home. You planned on coming to work early - given that your boss didn’t require you to go to his penthouse, a claim you stand by - so you can continue, but now he wants the meeting minutes in an hour, and that isn’t usually due until three days later. 
Neglecting the sandwich you planned on eating for breakfast, you work on your notes from the first meeting and then move on to the next. Every footstep you hear makes you anxious, and you breathe a sigh of relief every time you find out it’s not him. Every minute counts and you’re thankful for each one. Until, of course, you run out of it. 
“Send them to me now and meet me in my office,” his voice echoes through the hallway that leads to his room. 
Jungkook walks straight past you and doesn’t even give you a look.
“Yes, sir,” you squeak, quickly sending the email then scurrying to where he is. 
You find him seated on his chair, his leg crossed over the other one as he goes through the notes on his iPad, his furrowed eyebrows making you sweat in worry. He doesn’t seem pleased. But from what you’ve witnessed so far, you doubt there’s much that pleases him.
He encircles words and scribbles on the sides, mumbling “incomplete,” “what does this mean,” and “this is not what I said.”
Jungkook sets the device on his desk and groans. He turns to you with a hard glare, and you clearly see just how displeased he is. Not that you have any defense - it’s your job to do what he asked in a manner that’s up to his standards - but you already felt discouraged in the morning, and your meal skipping caused you to lose focus in the afternoon, resulting in your less than satisfactory documentation of the meeting.
“Ms. Cho, do you know the value of these documents? And why I require them to be comprehensive and done on time?”
“Uh, ye-yes, sir,” you drag out.
“Why?”
It’s too early for this, you think to yourself. Clearly you know why they’re important; you’re just too tired to articulate the reasons to him. But you try, as the words form in your head. You’re about to say them when he stands from his chair and walks towards his desk, leans on the edge and then intently looks at you, as if he’s judging even the way you’re breathing or standing. And you’d probably fail, given how your body seems to cower in his presence. 
“Because decisions are made through them,” he says, drowning out your thoughts with his stern voice. “I attend numerous meetings everyday. Decision points can be buried in the discussions unless they’re documented properly. And even when they are, they’re not actioned upon immediately unless I have access to them and unless they’ve been processed and verified. I don’t leave those conference rooms and forget about what took place. They stay in my head, that’s why I ask you to write them down, and that’s why I require you to meet me first thing in the morning so that I can process them with you, and let those points guide me for the rest of the week.”
His glare continues, so does his voice getting louder. “My job isn’t just to sit around and listen to people. I make decisions. And it’s your job to make sure I have all the correct information to make them.”
“I… I understand, sir. And I… I apologize for the oversight,” you stutter, still unable to look at him. “But about this morning, uh… you, uh last night, I—”
“Was there an explicit statement from me about not having you come in the morning?”
“No, sir.”
He lets the silence draw out, perhaps to let your own words sink in. He does have a point. You stand by your claim that you’d asked, and he nodded, but you should also know that such gestures aren’t clear responses, and that’s on you to make sure that you’re both on the same page. 
“I’m sorry, sir,” you say with conviction. “I made an assumption when I should have clarified. And even then, it’s your first week as Vice President. I should be assisting you in all the ways I can.”
Jungkook watches your form, hands clasped together with your nails sinking into your skin. Your head is bowed down, unable or unwilling to look at him this whole time. He knows he’s at fault, too, but he’d never admit it; he’s not exactly the type to do that. 
You stand there in submission and a part of him wants to apologize, but that’s not the type of weakness he wants to show, not when he needs to establish authority and more importantly, distance.
“I require Lucas to still come every morning because that’s the only time we can debrief about the previous day’s activities,” he says, making his voice calmer now. “We go through the minutes, clarify things, finalize them, and then disseminate so that people don’t forget. Teams collaborate effectively when there’s accountability and when timelines are adhered to. It’s my job to make sure they comply. And that means it’s your job, too. I don’t have to remind you of your roles now do I, Ms. Cho?”
“No, sir,” you respond, finding the strength in you to finally look at him, his hardened stare still unnerving you. 
He uncrosses his arms and walks back to his seat. “My cousin and I work very differently from each other. It’s on you to adjust.” 
“Yes, Mr. Jeon,” you bow in acknowledgment. “I’ll be at your apartment at 6:30 every morning and I’ll do better with my documentation and preparation of all the files.”
Jungkook just hums then proceeds to work on something on his desktop, which you take as your cue to leave. You bow again and excuse yourself, but his voice stops you as you open the door.
“Push back this morning’s meeting to 9:00,” he says. “And make sure you have something to eat. I can’t have you be unfocused again like yesterday.”
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You survive the rest of Tuesday. You eat snacks rather than proper meals, and you find that that helps you more with time and focus. The meetings for that day are less intense, but with you still figuring out exactly how Jungkook wants the documents prepared, you stay up after hours and work on them for the next day, with you constantly going over the recording to make sure that you documented everything correctly. 
You arrive at his penthouse at 6:30 every morning during the week. You make his breakfast while he takes a shower, which is really whatever’s in his fridge or pantry. He doesn’t seem to mind what you prepare for him, and you’re glad that he doesn’t find any more severe reasons to dislike you. There’s still the occasional correction of your minutes, but you chalk it up to him just being too particular. There are terms he uses that you’re not familiar with; he’s an architect by training after all.
Perhaps it’s why he’s as specific and detail-oriented as he is, and more visual than anything. Hoseok is a perfectionist like him, but the older man has everything organized in his head and then executes them, whereas Jungkook needs them all laid out before him. Whether it’s about a policy, a process, and especially a design, he makes sure they’re drawn out, and the way they all just make sense to him is immediate. 
You suppose that’s what he’s used to. Plans need representation beyond words; he doesn’t seem to be the type to use much of them, in fact, unless he’s correcting you. But that’s what you’ve noticed. At some points during the meeting, he’d draw something on his iPad and send it to you; you both discuss it the next morning, with you finding the words for it for proper documentation. 
But his mind doesn’t seem to stop, as you catch him on the way to work sometimes doodling some design on this leather notebook that he carries with him everywhere. Whether it’s the Arts Center or something else, you’re not sure, but you know that any moment he pulls it out, he’d spend a good amount of time on it before getting out of the car.
He remains distant and disengaged as you expect him to be. Unlike Hoseok who asks you how your evening went or how the trip to his house was, Jungkook doesn’t talk about anything that doesn’t concern work. And so when he isn’t talking about it, there’s just silence - whether in the car, in the elevator, or the walk to his room. There’s none of the laughter or the questions about how you’re coping with all your tasks, and there’s definitely nothing about his life that he shares. Not that you thought he would, but the difference with your old boss is striking, as you think of the times when Hoseok happily talked about the salsa studio he was at with A-yeong over the weekend or the movie they watched together the night before.
The comparisons remain in your head throughout the week. You try to focus on your responsibilities but you realize that you haven’t properly moved on from the culture and environment that you used to enjoy when Hoseok was still leading the team, and that has affected your work in obvious ways, and especially your approach to it. 
There’s anxiety with every task that Jungkook asks of you, even if they’re things you’ve done so many times in your three years as the VP’s assistant. You find yourself constantly clarifying his instructions, prompting him to question your ability to take them. You feel like he’ll be displeased regardless of what your output is, yet you still end up spending too much time going over files that you forget to eat or clock out too late. You don’t get proper sleep either, nervous about what the next day will bring. You second-guess yourself constantly, and all the confidence you built in all your time here doesn’t seem to have as strong of a foundation as you thought. 
So when you make another mistake the following Tuesday, whatever belief in yourself that you have left dissipates. 
“Ms. Cho, where is the folder?” Jungkook asks, his gaze hardening the longer you look at him without a word. 
You’re currently at a restaurant, given that your boss has a meeting with Mr. Hu, the owner of the company that produces quality materials that Jungkook wants for the Arts Center. This was scheduled just yesterday, which is also when he’d asked you to put together the rough draft plans and design that he worked on last weekend. The project is in its early stages but the plans are clear to Jungkook and he wants to secure this deal early on, especially with Mr. Hu leaving the country for a few weeks. 
You finalized this last night and left it on your desk along with the portfolios that Yoongi and the support team have been taking from your shelf. Given the week you’ve had - lack of sleep and frustration more than anything - you rushed to get ready and mistakenly took a portfolio and not the folder meant for this meeting.
“I… I’m so sorry, sir, but I seem to have taken the wrong files,” you stutter, eyes on the ground as you clutch the portfolio for support. “They… they were on my desk along with others and I left them in the office.”
There’s a long pause before Jungkook speaks, the irritation clear in his voice.
“Do you at least have a soft copy?”
“It’s on a USB, sir,” you reply, nervously raising your head. “I left it as well.”
You try your hardest not to look at him, even if it seems like he wants you to, just so you can see the burning way he does it. Because you feel him huffing, you can see how he’s clenching his fists as he controls what he’s feeling, which is definitely anger towards your stupid mistake. 
Jungkook clears his throat before turning back to the man seated across from him, his voice apologetic as he explains that you weren’t able to bring it. 
“Ah, what a shame,” Mr. Hu says, judgingly glancing at you. “I was really looking forward to seeing your plans, Jungkook. I could’ve advised my people to check on the materials you want this early.”
“I’m really sorry,” Jungkook says. “Perhaps I can email them over to you?”
“Oh don’t bother, I’ll be chasing the Italian sun for the next three weeks,” the older man chuckles. “I’ll see you when I get back. By then, I hope you and your assistant have sorted things out and could give me actual information about what you want.”
“We will, I assure you,” Jungkook says, before saying goodbye to him.
He walks past you and you follow, with no words said as you both wait for the car and enter. 
You can hear him panting, and you know enough that's due to an extreme emotion he can’t express. He won’t look at or say anything to you, and that feels more terrifying. 
His phone rings, and not only does the person on the other line talk about what just happened, you happen to hear it, too.
“Hey, I heard what happened with the big boss,” the man says. “Did you really go to the meeting unprepared?”
“It wasn’t me, but yeah, what a mess,” Jungkook huffs, his head leaning back on the chair, his eyes closed as he calms himself down. “What did he say? Is he angry?”
“Nah. You’re a Jeon; he can’t be. He was just a bit annoyed because he was supposed to have a meeting with another client but he chose to see you.”
“Fuck. What an embarrassment,” Jungkook groans.
“Well, he does have high praises for your father.”
“And this is his first time working with me. My dad’s gonna hear about it and give me shit for it.”
“Just another normal day at the office, right?” The man laughs. “So, was it your assistant that screwed up?”
Jungkook hums his yes, knowing you’re two seats away from him, although he’s unsure if you can hear their conversation. For your sake, he hopes you can’t.
“See? This is why you should’ve taken Lucas! That guy was always two steps ahead of you.”
“That’s what I said, but when are my requests ever granted? Never. Another normal day at the office, huh?”
“If she’s pretty, maybe you can forgive them and just suffer through her incompetence,” the man laughs again. “I mean, she’s got to have some redeeming quality somehow. If she doesn’t, that just sucks for you.”
“You really enjoy making fun of my misfortunes, huh?” Jungkook huffs.
“Just sometimes. Not used to you not having your way, that’s all.”
“Well, nothing is going my way, that's for sure. But whatever, I’ll figure it out. Make sure Mr. Hu holds out for me, okay? I need you to help me this time.”
“Hey, I may laugh at your misfortunes but I always have your back,” the man says. “Good luck, VP. I’ll see you soon.”
Jungkook drops the call and you feel him glance at you but you remain stiff on your seat, unwilling to move nor look anywhere else that isn’t your lap. You’re glad that he decides to close his eyes for the rest of the ride, though, so you take your chance to shift towards the window and watch the buildings fly by, willing your tears not to fall.
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You hold out until you arrive at the building. That is, until Jungkook heads straight to his room and asks you to follow. 
“Own up to your mistake and look at me,” he says, his voice seeping with disdain. 
You lift your head and meet his eyes, his gaze piercing right through you and you’re unable to move, to speak. But you try - a futile attempt, really - at appealing to the compassionate side of him, if it even exists. 
“I’m so, so sorry Mr. Jeon,” you plead for forgiveness. “I didn’t mean to forget the folder. It’s been a tough week and—”
“A tough week?” he mocks, his voice getting louder now. “As if you’re the only one who’s had one? I come here and find myself doing your job. I spent the weekend drafting the designs because I need that deal early only for you to screw it up! My father’s been on to me about this project and I need everything done right but I can’t seem to because my assistant, who’s supposed to be assisting me, can’t even get the most basic things done. All you had to do was bring the folder. You didn’t even have a contingency plan of having a soft copy. Were you not trained for this role?” 
You visibly shake but Jungkook doesn’t let up.
“Answer me.”
“I… I was, Mr. Jeon,” you tremble. “I know I’m not the smartest but I work hard and I—”
“You work hard?”
“Yes, sir.”
“In what?”
“In preparing your files and organizing everything for you and…” you try. 
A month ago, you’d be saying these things and more with so much conviction.  But all it took was one Jeon Jungkook to break you down and make you doubt every single skill you’ve developed and been praised for the past few years.
“And I can criticize each of those tasks in just this one week you’ve been my assistant.”
“I… I just needed guidance, sir, because it’s a new—”
“I need guidance. I need assisting,” he sneers. “My father wanted me to keep you because you apparently know how things are supposed to be done but you’re asking for guidance from me?”
There’s silence on your end and you’ve never felt as small as you do right now. The way Mrs. Byun abused her power over you and humiliated you during your first years here continues to be unmatched, but being treated this way by a man whose family you respect somehow hurts you more. 
You want to give up now. You’ll lose everything if you decide to just quit but it’s not like there’s much left of you to go by anyway, given the week that you’ve had. But if there’s anything your mother taught you is that the lowest you can go is when you don’t fight for yourself, so you gather what little dignity you have left and look him in the eyes. 
“You do things very differently from Mr. Jung like you said, and I admire your thoroughness,” you start, trying your hardest to calm the tone of your voice. “You’re adjusting to your new role with a new team and a new assistant that you didn’t choose but somehow you have to trust and that’s unnerving if you’re used to being in control of everything. With all due respect, however, perhaps if you let the people around you adjust as well, we would all find a way to work together effectively and respectfully. A little bit of compassion wouldn’t hurt, and it goes a long way.”
At his silence, you continue, digging your nails deeper into your skin to help you remain stable.
“I apologize for all the mistakes this past week. I know it has been unpleasant for you as well. I’ll do better, that I can promise. But if the way I work is not something that is up to your standard, then there’s only one thing to do. Me quitting would put you in a worse light; you can fire me if you think it is best,” you bravely state. “I can deal with the consequences.”
Jungkook continues to just look at you, unable to say anything this time. Perhaps he isn’t used to someone speaking to him like this. Maybe he’s finding the right words to hit you back and break you even more. The tiniest part of you wants to think you’ve softened him up a bit; hopefully he’ll be less angry at you the next time.
“Is there anything you need me to work on, Mr. Jeon?”
“No,” he answers. “Just hold off all calls for me for the next hour. I don’t want to be disturbed.”
“Understood, Mr. Jeon.” 
You bow and head out the door. 
Jungkook watches you leave, and the farther you become, the more he wishes you’d stay.
He’s unsure why. Perhaps it’s the way you spoke to him, similar to the way you did the first time you met over a week ago - with conviction and grace despite you putting him in his place. Maybe it’s him, trying to find the words to apologize without seeming weak, or to encourage you without being comfortable. The tiniest part of him just wants you around; he doesn’t know what it is about you but he finds himself feeling intense emotions because of you - frustration, fear, and an overwhelming feeling of sadness and regret. 
He returns to his seat and glances through the window, the angle of his chair allowing him to see you outside, although he’s unsure if you’re able to see him. Either way, it’s not like you’ve ever looked his way anyway, so he feels a little safe doing this now. 
You’re seated and turned away from the desk, with your fingers pressing over both your ears, as if you’re blocking out the sounds of the room; perhaps you’re blocking out his voice that’s probably still echoing in your head. He’d seen you do this last week, too, after you failed to show up at his penthouse in the morning. He thinks it’s your way of dealing with stress, a quiet one, in contrast to boxing like what he prefers to do. It’s the only time he’d ever allow himself to express anything, after all, other than getting mad at you apparently. 
You finally turn around, but it’s not long after when Do-hyun arrives and takes your place, leaving him to wonder where you’re off to. He focuses on his work like he meant to do, opting to read and send emails while he calms himself down. His eyes always turn to your desk, though, and when he sees that he’s halfway done but you’re still not back, he decides to head out.
“Mr. Jeon,” Do-hyun stands up and greets him. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
“Where’s Ms. Cho?”
“She had to go to the washroom so she asked me to cover for her first,” she responds. “But, uh… She’s been gone for half an hour. I… I’m not sure what she’s up to but I can—.”
It’s at that moment when you return, and the way that both Do-hyun and Jungkook look at you that you know they can tell. You can’t exactly cry for 20 minutes and then expect to ease the swelling of your eyes for the next 10. But you act like nothing’s amiss, so you dismiss the younger woman and turn to Jungkook.
“Was there something that you needed from me, Mr. Jeon?” You ask nonchalantly.
“Just, uh…” he stutters now, taken aback by the casual way you speak to him despite your glassy eyes. “I’m meeting the CEO and President tomorrow to discuss the Arts Center. Put the initial plans in presentation format and send it to me first thing in the morning.”
“Yes, sir,” you respond, returning to your seat and not sparing him another glance. 
You work on the presentation in between the other things you need to finish. You draft memos and letters for Jungkook’s approval, and it’s half past 4 when you enter his room to have them signed. 
“I’m heading out at 5 for dinner,” he says as he signs the documents. “I’ve added points on the shared file for the presentation. Make sure to include those.”
“I will, sir.”
There’s a brief moment where you and Jungkook just look at each other, words swimming in your own heads that neither of you wants to say out loud.
You wish he’d offer an apology.
He wishes you’d say that you’re okay.
You want to tell him that the Arts Center already sounds amazing; you hope it turns out the way he imagines.
He wants to tell you that he won’t fire you, that despite how he’s been, he doesn’t want you to go anywhere.
But the moment passes and then it’s gone. You bow once more and then head out the door. 
He leaves at exactly 5, merely nodding at you as he leaves. 
Jungkook sees you again that evening, four hours later as he drives home after having dinner with Seokjin and Taehyung, the brothers he’d grown up with. The office is on the way, and it’s near the bus stop where he spots you, trying to catch a cab that someone always gets to before you do. 
The rain has started to pour, and his anxiety builds; he was never fond of it, given the memory it holds. But it’s you in your thin coat that suspends that for a while. You’re clearly shivering, unable to get a ride, and getting wet from the downpour. You cross the street, seemingly just submitting to the weather, and you disappear amongst the crowd of people just trying to get home. 
He checks his phone as he gets a message and sees the email you sent 20 minutes ago - the presentation he’d asked you to submit in the morning. This is you, making up for today, he guesses. He’s why you’re braving the rain. If he’s being honest, he’s why you’re suffering at all, and he can’t help the way his heart stings at the thought. 
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The convenience store is bright and dry unlike the streets outside, and that’s why there’s a substantial amount of people seeking shelter from the downpour that came out of nowhere. 
You welcome the rain. It served as a distraction when you were growing up and your mother’s ex-partner would yell nonstop. You’d hide in your room and cover your ears like your mother taught you to do. When she was able, she’d stay with you and cover your ears with her own hands and tell you that it’s gonna be okay, that even if you can’t stop the scary sounds, you can drown them out enough that they’ll stop bothering you. 
You didn’t think you’d ever do so again but you’ve done that twice in one week, and all it took was one Jeon Jungkook to lecture you about what your job entails. He didn’t yell, but his voice was still piercing, firm and low as if he reserves that intensity for instances of pure frustration. 
That kind of thing takes a lot out of someone. It’s different when a boss is out to abuse their power and take advantage of you. Mrs. Byun made you do her work so she could spend her lunches out and then take credit for outputs without acknowledging you. She sucked up to the directors to overcompensate for not knowing how to answer their questions. And then she had the guts to embarrass you and call you out in front of the team for not being able to do your primary tasks, which was only because you were doing hers. It took a while but her incompetence caught up to her and her departure felt like freedom. But the experience with her was constricting, suffocating, humiliating. It was dehumanizing, too, as you went home to an empty apartment every night, feeling less and less of yourself.
But the way Jungkook treats you hits differently. You’ve survived the worst and ended up in a good spot under Hoseok’s leadership where you built your confidence. During those years, you felt capable, like you were trusted; you felt that your hard work earned you respect. 
Now, you feel all that crumbling. You feel exposed, bare; as if you’re realizing you’re not that good after all. How you’ve been isn’t like you. You’re meticulous, analytical; you’ve sat in so many meetings as an observer and know how things work, how the directors think, and the kinds of outputs expected from you. But recently, you find yourself just lost, questioning everything all the time, and so incapable.
You let yourself feel the burden weigh you down as you eat a small cup of noodles and call it dinner. You walk down the aisles and pick out your favorite snacks, first eating the roasted almonds as you head out the door. 
The rain has let up, with but a drizzle left this late evening. You catch the bus and munch on pepero and chocopie this time. You’re in your neighborhood by the time you tear open the frosted mini donuts. You’ve been mindlessly eating the whole time, but once you get off your stop, you start walking towards the community center. The public library is closed but something about sitting outside the door gives you comfort, just like it used to when you were growing up.
Your mom couldn’t really afford daycare. She’d spend her lunch break picking you up from school then dropping you off at a library where her friend worked; that nice woman always looked after you until your mom came back to pick you up. Some days when she wanted to take you away from the mess that was her partner, she’d take you there, too. 
You read mostly picture books and colored on your coloring book and played with your paper dolls. Even as you grew up, you didn't really read; you just liked that the library was quiet, comfortable, that it made you feel safe. 
Your phone beeps and you see a photo that your mother has just sent of her dry living room floor. 
[From: Mom] it isn’t leaking anymore! 
You smile, imagining her sigh of relief and the way she’s probably humming about the house. You decide to call her; another bit of comfort would definitely help.
“Hi, darling,” she answers after the first ring. “Min-woo went to the hardware store when he arrived in the afternoon so he could fix the roof. What a relief.”
“That’s great, mom,” you reply, wishing you were back home with her. “You can have a good sleep tonight, then.”
“I will. What about you?”
“I hope so.”
“Have you had dinner?”
“Hmm, yeah,” you hum. 
“And where are you now?”
“Outside the library,” you say. 
There’s silence that comes after, a way in which you both say things without words sometimes. Your mom is good at that, and even if you can’t see her, you know there’s love in her eyes. And even if she can’t see you, she knows there’s sadness in yours. 
“So, work has been tough lately, am I right?”
Even without any confirmation, she already knows. She probably knew when you said that everything was fine after she asked how things were going during your visit over the weekend. She probably picked up the faintness of your smile and the way you fell asleep on her lap while you both watched TV and she combed your hair like she always did. 
“The new boss is quite hard on me,” you admit. “He expects too much, asks me to do too much… I’m trying but I keep making mistakes. I’m missing things I normally don’t. I’m not like this, mom. I… I’m better than this.”
“Oh, darling,” she sighs, wishing she’d hugged you a little tighter before you left. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this. Maybe you’re still adjusting. That’s valid, you know? It’s only been a week.”
“Yeah, but he acts like he’s the only one who needs to adjust and that I just magically know how to do things his way,” you groan. “It… it just makes me feel like I’m not good enough. That I… that I shouldn’t be here.”
“___, you didn’t suffer through your first few years there just so you would continue to doubt yourself,” she responds. “You deserve your role, regardless of what he thinks. You work hard and that means everything.”
“Not to him apparently. Even if I work hard, if it’s not up to his standards, it doesn’t mean anything. I can’t even do anything about it because he’s the CEO’s son.” 
“You can quit, you know?” She says after a beat of silence. “You don’t have to stay if it’s too much, and especially if it’s unfair. Just because you know you can handle it, doesn’t mean you should.”
The thought settles in your head. You did just tell Jungkook that you’d rather he fire you, which honestly terrifies you because much as he’s insufferable, you do need this job. Helping your mom over the weekend reminded you of that. From the health insurance to the salary, you don’t have to worry too much because you can finally repay her for all her hard work in raising you, in protecting you, in surviving for you. 
“I know,” you sigh. “Maybe I just let the tough first days get to me.”
“Whatever it is, you shouldn’t suffer. And you definitely shouldn’t suffer alone,” she advises. “I’m glad you came over during the weekend even if for unpleasant reasons. I got to hug you even if I didn’t know you needed it.”
“I always need it, mom,” you admit. “I don’t have to say it. It’s the only one I get anyway.”
“Well, it’s because it’s the only one you accept,” she points out. 
“True,” you laugh. “But I… I’ll do better. I’ll get my head straight tonight and treat tomorrow like my first day and you know, show him I’m capable.”
“That’s good. And you can come over again this weekend if you want. The storm should be gone by then. The girls want to go to the park. I know they’d love to hang out with you. If you don’t have plans of course.”
“You know I only ever have actual weekend plans when Jimin and Soomin visit me. But yes, I can take the trip on Saturday. If Jungkook wants me to do any work… screw him.”
Your mother laughs, only because she knows you don’t mean it. You know it, too. Regardless of how you think of your boss or your job, you know the value of your work, and you’re not one to sacrifice it for any reason. 
“Are you feeling better, darling?”
“Yeah,” you smile. “The rain’s stopped somehow. I needed to be here. And I… I needed to hear your voice.”
“Good. You know you can call whenever. I don’t have to summon you with photos of a roof or grilled makchang or something every time.”
“I know. And I will. I’ll see you soon.”
You drop the call and start walking back home. Talking with your mom is the strength you need to get through such a tough day. It doesn’t change your situation; maybe Jungkook will still be upset with you in the morning but you’ll handle it, just like you handled all the difficult times before. 
Your mother taught you something else - it was grace. You’d fight back if you need to, but you can always do it with gentleness; sometimes that works wonders, especially if you can’t afford to respond with rage. 
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You’re quite nervous walking to Jungkook’s penthouse the next morning. 
Before he left last night, you were sporting glassy and swollen eyes, after all; it wouldn’t have taken much for him to know what you were up to by being away from your desk for half an hour. But you’d been too upset to think of what he would think about it, so you acted like it was nothing when you returned to your seat, took note of his instructions, and watched him walk out. No other words were spoken and quite frankly, you don’t know what either of you could have said after what transpired. It’s a new day, though, and like you told your mother, you’ll just focus on your work and try to get that old version of yourself back, the one you’d felt slipped away this past week.
You enter the front door - as he’d told you to just go in so you don’t disrupt his workout - and immediately hear the loud sounds of leather hitting leather. He seems to be aggressively punching the sandbag, with more evidence of it coming in the form of his deep and successive breaths that you can hear as you walk towards the kitchen. You stop on your tracks, though, as a pair of red laced underwear lays crumpled on the floor.
That definitely wasn’t there yesterday morning so it must’ve been from last night. You’re not one to judge; he did have a frustrating day that you caused and releasing all that stress in this way is understandable. You just wish he had the courtesy to clean up, knowing that his assistant would be coming but then again, you also don’t know if that’s too much to ask of him.
You don’t realize that you’ve been staring at the underwear until you hear him, his deep breaths in tandem with his steps. You walk towards the counter and set him a glass of water before he notices what’s got your attention, but he still does, as he stops at the spot where you were and lets out a grunt. 
From your periphery, you see him pick up the piece of lingerie then throw it in the trash. You turn to him and bow in greeting, and Jungkook merely nods, the slightest of head tilts to acknowledge your presence, seemingly avoiding your eyes, even as you ask what he prefers to eat this morning. You’d like to think that in the recesses of his bitter heart, there’s remorse over yesterday at least, if not over the past few days. But you’ll take it; his silence is better than anything at this moment. 
You follow him towards his bedroom, stopping briefly as you look around and make sure you’re not intruding. You’re unsure if the woman is still here, but he picks up on that.
“She’s gone,” he says, walking to his bathroom. “I never make them stay.”
It’s a part of his life that you’ve only heard of. The gossip that Do-hyun hears from the washrooms in the office may be true, considering his weeknight bang and the left-behind underwear on the kitchen floor. He still had some energy based on his morning workout though, and you don’t know why the thought of him fucking someone and then boxing in the morning is making you feel hot all over. 
You snap yourself out of it, knowing it’s inappropriate and definitely not what you should be worrying about. He’s a stressed, obviously attractive, and rich bachelor; you’re not surprised he’d have women at his beck-and-call and be nonchalant about it.
You walk inside his closet and choose the shoes and accessories he’ll wear today before heading back to the kitchen to prepare his breakfast. He walks in 30 minutes later, and you approach him to fix his collar and his tie like you always do, now getting used to his natural scent with hints of jasmine and bergamot. Your eyes focus on the silk necktie, hoping you’re able to control your nervous breathing being this close to him. 
He may still be annoyed at you and you may be invading his space, and the realization makes you step away quickly, taking his plate from the counter and placing it on the dining table. You open your iPad and go through the presentation he asked you to do, surprised that he’s already added a few things.
“Is the presentation final, Mr. Jeon?” You ask. “I see you’ve already looked through it.”
“Sort of,” he responds. “I woke up at 5 and reviewed it before my workout. Let’s go over them now.”
He looks through his iPad as he eats, going over each slide with you as if he’s practicing. The more he speaks, the more you envision the Arts Center and how he wants it done. The way he puts together the ideas into a coherent design is impressive. You almost see it as he does, and much as you thoroughly dislike him right now, for the sake of all the good things that this center will do for people, you really want him to succeed. 
You remind him of a few more things before he finishes his meal, and it’s not long after when you’re in the car, the silence thickening the tension between the two of you once more. This continues until you reach the office, and you breathe a sigh of relief at the distance between the both of you now. 
While you do feel better, the anxiety remains. You don’t want to mess up. And as you enter his room to give him papers to sign and you see him going through his presentation while the leather notebook he was drawing on earlier lays open on the desk, you find yourself also just not wanting to disappoint him. He clearly works hard and despite his treatment of you, you want things to work out for him. 
It’s an hour later when you’re both walking towards the elevator to head to the conference room on the CEO’s floor. It’s just Jungkook with his father and cousin today where he’ll present the initial plans for their comments and their verbal endorsement of the draft budget. 
It’s a massive project that’s working within strict timelines and Jungkook is adamant on getting this ready by mid-next year. You can tell how much he wants to deliver this well - the board of directors would be his next audience and a boost of confidence would be much needed. 
You make him a cup of coffee the way he likes and sit next to him. The distance allows you to keep your eyes away from him; with the pressure he’s under, you don’t exactly want to be close to where you can easily trigger him. 
CEO Jeon and Hoseok arrive, greeting you with their bright smiles, a reprieve from the stoic looks and tight-lipped and furrowed brows you get from Jungkook everyday.
“Hi, Ms. Cho,” CEO Jeon says. “A week has passed, huh? How has it been?”
“Challenging,” you say honestly, “but still good. I’m learning new things, Mr. Jeon.”
“That’s good,” he smiles, glancing at his son whose eyes are focused on his laptop. The elder seems unconvinced by your half smile but he nods, turning back to you. “By the way, I heard on the news that the typhoon hit your hometown pretty badly. How’s your mother and her family? Mr. Ri mentioned that there was an incident over the weekend. Is everything okay?”
You’re used to CEO Jeon asking things like this prior to meetings. He believes it’s a way to release certain feelings and not keep them hidden, and while you don’t really want to talk about it right now, you appreciate the concern. 
“She, uh. A large tree fell over our house last Saturday,” you say, to the surprise of both CEO and President. “I had to travel in the morning to help my mom. A portion of the roof was damaged and she had to call a company to fix it. Min-woo and the girls were away and mom didn’t want to deal with the workers since she was alone so I had to stay over the weekend.”
“That’s unfortunate,” the elder Jeon laments. “How is your house now? And your mom?”
“The roof is sealed. But she slipped on some debris and had to be assisted; she was being stubborn about it. She’s okay, though.”
“Ah, it must’ve been a tough few days. And for you, too,” Hoseok says. “I mean, given all the work and then having to be there for her. I’m sorry, ___.  But I’m glad she’s doing better. Tell her I send my regards, okay?”
“I will, thank you.”
Jungkook tries not to look affected as the older men ask you more details about what happened that he, of course, didn’t know about. There’s that guilt over how he treated you yesterday, learning now what you had to do over the weekend. You don’t seem the type to blame any oversight or mistake on something like that, but he would know that the tiredness and preoccupation could definitely affect things. Even more, he’d implied that you don’t work hard and that you’re being a burden to him, which is far from the truth. 
The conversation ends and he’s unable to look at you, as he stands from his seat to begin his presentation. Everything is set up, including a pointer and a marker and a glass of warm water on his side. He proceeds, presenting his design, the materials, the budget, and the timeline. 
You take note of all his answers to the questions and the ideas he comes up with on the spot, with him repeating things and stating how he wants certain points written down. You’re immersed in your own task, feeling like you’ve found your rhythm because you’ve done this so many times but the fear got ahead of you. This morning, it’s as if you’re in your element again, and there’s relief that fills you this time.  
The meeting is moved to a restaurant after the third hour. There’s an event that the CEO suggests that Jungkook’s team organize as a way to build linkages with the arts and culture networks, making sure that the younger Jeon becomes known in those fields as well. 
You have to go by memory as you listen and eat your meal, but the distance from Jungkook remains. You merely nod at his words and avoid looking at him unless you need to. It’s your way of getting over last night, you think. You still have his look of frustration etched in your mind and it’s still a bit fresh; you’d need at least another day before you can look at him normally again. You hope that other than Jungkook himself, no one notices. 
But you suppose you’ve underestimated Hoseok’s ability to pick up on your behavior; it’s one of his strengths as a leader, after all. He’s always been good at reading people, a skill that Jungkook clearly didn’t develop. 
“Hey.”
“Mr. Jung,” you greet, a wave of nostalgia hitting you because his smile is one you used to see everyday, regardless of how stressed he was. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“No, not really. It’s just been over a week but I’m still getting used to the bigger office and the new secretary but I just wanted to check in,” Hoseok says. “You and Jungkook have been very busy, I rarely catch either of you.”
“Well, he wanted to get all the introductions out of the way so he can focus on the Arts Center,” you reply. “There’s a lot happening with that one so he’s in meetings and calls all the time.”
“Ah, of course. It’s a good design and I’m sure it’ll boost the local arts scene. He got inspired during his travels in the Southeast Asia sites and has been talking about it for years. It’s good he has the freedom to work on this now.”
You merely nod, not having much to say about your boss’ passion project that’s just made him angry and frustrated. Quite frankly, you don’t know how he is when he isn’t working on such high-pressure matters, but you can already tell he isn’t someone you’d want to be around in any other context. 
“But how about you? Are you getting enough rest? All these meetings and then traveling home on the weekend is tiring, ___. I hope you’re looking out for your health.”
“I am,” you try to assure him. “I can handle it.”
You smile before shifting your eyes to your desktop screen, not wanting to look at him any longer because a second more and you’d probably burst into tears. Experiencing Hoseok’s kindness for these few minutes has just reminded you of what you constantly miss - that feeling of safety and care, of someone looking out for you and not holding you back. 
“I’m glad you are,” he smiles again, holding your gaze when you glance at him, and Hoseok hopes that in this short moment of calm, he’s able to give comfort that he just knows you need. “Anyway, I just wanted to drop by. I’ll see you around, yeah?”
“I’ll see you, Hoseok.” And as if you knew why he came over in the first place, you add, “and thank you.”
Jungkook sighs in frustration as he watches your fading smile before returning to type away on your desktop. He was about to call you to ask for a project portfolio on the shelf but stopped once he saw you talking to his cousin. You seemed a tad bit lighter than usual; Jungkook could only assume it’s your natural state, even if all he’s seen of you is that of perpetual worry and stress. 
He thinks to himself that a part of that is because of him. Maybe a big part, he admits. He wouldn’t have known about your town in Daegu or that your mother resides there and that you had to go home over the weekend, hence, your oversight yesterday. He’s at least decent enough to acknowledge that he shouldn’t have been so harsh on you in the first place. He’s just not used to things not going his way; he wonders now what the people under him suffered through to make sure of that.
Not wanting to disturb you, he decides to get the portfolio himself, so he exits his room and leans on your desk, his eyebrows scrunched as he reads through the spine labels of the folders. He doesn’t notice you stand up and attempt to ask what he needs but he does find it, reaching over on the third shelf for it. 
“I could’ve gotten that for you,” you huff.
Jungkook spots a small pout as you utter the words, disarming him a little.
“It’s… it’s fine,” he mumbles, willing his mind to go back to what he was thinking about before you said something, which is the other project he wants to look at. 
But you pick up on his words. “Seongbuk, 2021,” you repeat. 
You look up and know exactly where the portfolio for that project is. You drag your stool with your foot and walk up the steps, carefully pulling out the folder and underestimating just how heavy it is. But before it can slip out of your fingers, Jungkook gets a hold of it, his right hand gripping the spine while his left palm supports your back. 
You stiffen when you realize just how close he is to you then step down the stool, somehow nervous to look at him.
“I, uh, sorry. You were about to fall.”
You stiffen again because he didn’t just apologize, did he? Your eyes are glued to the ground and you don’t see Jungkook’s surprised look.
Because he did just that. What felt more alarming than his apology was that it had been a reflex for him to have his hand behind you, his heart leaping a bit because you really were close to falling. An injured version of you isn’t something he wants to deal with, and he convinces himself that it’s because it would look absolutely terrible for his assistant to get hurt on the job, and especially in his presence. 
“Is that all you need, Mr. Jeon?”
“Uh, yes,” he responds. “Be, uh, be careful.”
He takes both folders and heads back to his room, his face buried in the pages as you sneak a glance at him from the window.
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“So, how’s the second week as VP going?” Hoseok asks his cousin from across the table of their favorite Japanese restaurant during their Friday lunch. “Worse than the first?”
Jungkook, not keen on answering truthfully, merely shrugs. 
“Well, I can bet you though that ___ is definitely having it worse than last week.”
“Did she say anything? About me specifically?” Jungkook asks, his curious eyes telling Hoseok that it’s more of concern than anger. 
“Of course not. She’s there to protect you, Kook, not tell on you. Is there something to say? About you specifically?”
Jungkook knows how well his cousin can read people, especially him. They’d grown up together after all, and had gotten close because the older man always stayed next to him, knowing how shy little Jungkook used to be. So he narrates what happened - that he’d gotten angry, that he was being too strict, that he wasn’t leaving you room for adjustment. He’d of course excluded his own oversight and need to establish distance and authority, chalking it up to not having the familiarity and conveniences he’d been used to back in Singapore. 
“I feel like working with father even closer now, it’s like I’m under a microscope,” Jungkook continues. “I don’t wanna mess up. I just don’t wanna give him a reason to criticize or question me.”
“Well, if he learns about how it’s been with ___, he’ll do exactly those things,” Hoseok responds. “He cares about his people, you know? I’m sure that’s the one thing he wants you to do right.”
“Can’t say I’d know. It’s not like he’s any more compassionate than I am. We’re talking about a man who yells at the managers who can’t get things done right.”
“They were abusing their power, that’s why,” Hoseok explains. “And I’m not here to defend the man - I’ve been on the receiving end of his anger twice and saw how he’d push people to their near breaking point a few times but he’s not a terrible person. I’ve seen him be understanding and caring to his staff way more; you just haven’t been around that much.”
“It’s not what I saw growing up.”
“Well, we remember what we want, and forget the parts that don’t make sense to us.”
Jungkook stays silent as he munches on his steak.
“He wants to get closer to you, you know?” Hoseok continues. “He hopes that with you being around, he can mentor you, learn from you. All those years that you were home, you felt so far away from him, farther away than Jeong-sik who wasn’t even here, and he doesn’t know why.”
“He can’t expect to be a rich, ambitious businessman and be close to his son,” Jungkook huffs. “All he ever cared about when I was growing up was work. Sure, he had rare good moments, but we all know it was to compensate for always being too busy. He pressured me to do well at school then missed awarding ceremonies. He scheduled some family time then left me and my brother in some cabin in the woods by ourselves. He wants to work with me here then disallows my requests. What does he want from me?”
“Your time, I suppose. Maybe your understanding, too.”
“Did he give those to me when I was younger? He had so many chances these past 30 years and he wants those now?”
“People are complicated, Kook. Sometimes they lose sight of what’s important, of what’s in front of them… doesn’t mean they’re bad people,” Hoseok says. “And it doesn’t mean they don’t deserve a second chance. I mean, don’t we all want that? Don’t we all grow out of our bad habits and just yearn for something good?”
“Not everyone does that.”
“Maybe not, but your father has. And he just wants another chance. And whether or not it was her fault, I’m sure ___ wants that, too.”
“Did you really ask me to treat you to lunch only to advocate for the people I don’t really care much about?” Jungkook laughs bitterly. 
“No,” Hoseok chuckles. “I really wanted to try it here. But also, uncle took me out to drinks before you arrived and was all honest with me, which was a little weird but I guess he thought he could get some perspective from you through me. And ___ was my assistant and I think highly of her. It’s upsetting how things started for you both. I guess I just feel kind of caught in the middle between you and the people you actually care about. So yes, I deserve this free lunch.”
Jungkook doesn’t correct his cousin, more for the fact that Hoseok really does get caught in the middle - always has, even between him and his older brother whom Jungkook never really got along with; it definitely isn’t because he acknowledges that he cares about you. There’s no reason for him to feel that; you’re just his assistant, after all. 
Being beautiful and capable and hardworking doesn’t have anything to do with being cared about. 
“I… I admit being too hard on ___. I get that she’s good and stuff but maybe that fits with your leadership style more,” Jungkook tries to reason. “Maybe she just thrives in a team where she’s led by someone like you, someone who’s good with people and who’s process-oriented and I don’t know, someone who isn’t as tough or meticulous like me.”
“I’m sorry, Kook, but you sound stupid. You clearly don’t know anything about her. She’s experienced all the lows - the disrespect from the men, the abuse of power from the women, all the long hours and ridiculous deadlines, the loudest of yells and the craziest demands,” Hoseok exclaims. “She’s been here for just eight years but it feels more. Sometimes I don’t know why she stayed but I’m glad she did, selfishly, and that’s because she helped me so much. Are you… are you giving her reasons to leave so you can have Lucas with you?”
“No,” Jungkook dismisses the thought, although he does admit it entered his mind before he even started. “I’m just… not used to her. And the mishaps didn’t help. I just wanna be able to do my job and do it right.”
“And you will, if you just loosen up a bit and give her a chance to show you that she can help you. It’s just that I’m not seeing that same joy and energy in her eyes and her smile,” Hoseok explains. “I was thinking last Wednesday that maybe it was because of her mom but during the meeting this morning, it was the same. I’d hate to think that’s because of you. Because if it is and she’s thinking of resigning, I won’t stop her. I might even suggest it to her. “
The thought of you being gone causes a lump in Jungkook’s throat. It’s selfish, really, because despite how he treats you, he still wants you here. It’s just as silly, and stupid, and something he doesn’t have a clear reason for. But other than his cousin not trusting that he could treat you fairly, it’s the possibility that you might just quit yourself, something you seem to be capable and willing to do. And that voluntary departure is something he doesn’t want to deal with. Once you leave, you’ll just be gone; he won’t have a reason to seek you. 
“I’ll do better,” Jungkook finally says. “I’ll stop being such a pain in the ass and be… kinder, I guess.”
“She’ll probably see right through you if you fake it,” Hoseok laughs. “Just be fair. Trust me, that’s what she’d want, too. Correct her if you need to, but do it constructively. And please, try to smile every once in a while. It won’t hurt you. Nor would it ruin whatever tough guy image you have.”
Jungkook playfully rolls his eyes but he lets out a chuckle. His cousin won’t ever let go of the fact that 18-year old Jungkook had his first tattoo because he wanted to look tough. 
“I still have to establish authority, Hoseok. I can’t do it like you do.”
“Well, you’re missing out. Smiling always makes you feel a hundred times better.”
“She’ll probably see right through me if I fake it,” Jungkook repeats his cousin’s words almost mockingly. “I’m pretty sure everyone knows I’m not… cheerful. It’s like, how I’m compared to you.”
The two start walking back and Hoseok takes a jab at the younger man. “Actually, I heard that I’m the handsome one, too, and the stable guy, the family man, the man you’d take home to meet your parents…”
Jungkook laughs along. He agrees, and while it was not Hoseok’s intention at all, it does make Jungkook wonder even hours later - given all the things that characterize him, which are nothing like the older man’s - who would want him? Who would even take a chance on him? Who would even think it’s worth it to be with him?
Chaerin did, and then he self-sabotaged and lost her. Maybe the women he meets at clubs and takes home, but then all they want is a good time anyway, just like him. Maybe it’s someone he’s never met, but he also doesn't know how to be someone that someone else would love. 
Maybe there isn’t any. And maybe that isn’t so bad. Perhaps he’d have to start getting used to that fact; it’s easier than realizing he’s not meant to be with someone after all. 
He pauses the thought and decides that’s for the weekend version of him to lament over. This Friday afternoon, he’s focused on firming up the project details with the design and logistics teams. He’d just finished his meeting with them, with you barely looking his way just like you’ve done throughout the week - which he can’t fault you for because he was doing the same - and he’s back in his room to coordinate with other units. 
You, on the other hand, seem to be fixated on the quarterly reports that you’ll be handing over to him. It’s past 5 and he knows you’ll be staying up late again, given that he’d ordered you at the start of the week to finish the reviews by Friday. He’s given you too much to do, and after everything he’s done, letting you off early is a way for him to apologize without actually apologizing. 
He picks up the phone and calls you.
“How many reports do you have left to review?” He asks.
“Three more, Mr. Jeon,” you answer. “I’ll finish them tonight, please just give me another hour and a half.”
“Are you going home to see your mother tomorrow?” 
“Uh, yes, sir. I leave in the morning,” you say, curious at the question that you never thought he’d ask.
“You should clock out now, then.”
“Oh, but the reports, sir. I—”
“It’s okay,” he says, surprising you. “I’ll be busy with Arts Center details this weekend so I won’t have time to sign off on the reports anyway so you can continue them on Monday.”
You’re too shocked to speak that it doesn’t register that you’re indeed not saying anything.
“Ms. Cho?” Jungkook repeats your name.
“Oh, uh, yes, as long as it’s okay, Mr. Jeon.”
“Yes, that’s what I just said.”
“That’s, uh, thank you,” you mumble, turning on your roller chair to retrieve your bag and start packing, only to look up and see through the window that Jungkook can see you right now, smiling like a giddy child. There’s this movie that’ll show on your favorite local channel and you’re glad that you’ll be able to catch it tonight. 
You’re unsure what Jungkook’s eaten to be dismissing you this early. Maybe it was the lunch he had with Hoseok earlier; maybe it was the older man knocking some sense into him. You don’t have the energy to think about it, given that you now also have time to cook yourself proper dinner and enjoy eating it while watching and curling under your comfy blanket on your tiny couch, just like how you used to enjoy your Fridays. 
You’ll deal with the unreviewed reports and Jungkook returning to his normal, grumpy self on Monday. Tonight is all about you, and the weekend version of you is about being with your mother, her partner, and your stepsisters. There’s nothing like being with the people who make you feel safe; you’ll deal with the stress when a new week rolls by.
Jungkook watches you excitedly leave your desk. He can’t imagine the relief you’re feeling of being relieved this early and then spending your Friday evening the way you want, however that is. He lets himself wonder for a bit how you would spend time by yourself. Yoongi did say your friends aren’t in Seoul and your family obviously isn’t.
But then again, maybe you do have a partner, and maybe that’s why you looked as happy as you did. He’s not quite sure what to do with the slight distress at the thought, but with the absurdity of the amount of times he thinks about you, he decides it shouldn’t matter anyway. 
He has his own plans, too, like watching sports over bottles of beer that night, and then playing video games the next day before going to a bar with Seokjin and Taehyung. 
That Sunday, he works all morning then works out in the afternoon. In the evening, he decides to meet his friends again. 
Entering the club, he spots the table where they are - Seokjin has his arm around a woman and his lips glued to her ear; he pulls her closer as she laughs at his words. Taehyung has one next to him, too; they’re engaged in some serious conversation, it seems, given how passionately they’re talking to each other. That is, until his hand slides inside her dress; maybe it wasn’t that deep. 
Jungkook doesn’t know how his friends can converse with the women they find in these places. Given, Seokjin tends to stick to the same one for months and Taehyung is just naturally flirty and friendly so maybe it’s not that hard. 
For Jungkook, it’s just not something he’s able to fully or even properly do. What does he say? He’d brag about his work and his lifestyle if he was the type, but he isn’t, and there’s nothing else about him that he’d like to share. He’s always straightforward when it comes to these things. He’s picky; he does have a type, after all, but he always knows what they want and so do they. 
So when he spots a woman by the bar - the one who’d bought him a drink last night - he just smirks as she takes her shot and bites her lips when she catches him looking. 
“Hey, I finally caught you sober,” she giggles in his ears after she meets him halfway. 
“And I finally caught you without a man next to you,” he whispers. “Should I be worried?”
“Nah, he was just my plaything last night,” she responds. “I could be yours.”
Jungkook chuckles, enjoying her bluntness. He takes her hand and waves at his friends; they already know he’s taking off and they won’t hear from him for the rest of the night. 
It’s the way most of his evenings go anyway, whether he’s here or in Singapore or elsewhere, really. 
Jungkook likes the thrill, he likes the shallow intimacy he gets from the feelings of ecstasy and carnal desire. He likes that he doesn’t have to share anything about himself apart from his name so they could scream it, likes that there’s nothing about the other person to uncover, and that there’s nothing about himself he has to be honest about. He likes that he’ll remember the pleasure until the next day but nothing else - not her breathing, not her gentle touches on his chest, not her soft whispers of his name. 
There’s nothing much about her he’ll care for other than that she had a good time. And there’s nothing about tonight he’ll regret, except not making sure that she left his apartment like he always asks them to do.
Because it’s Monday morning, and there’s that woman wearing his coat and nothing else. 
And then there’s you, dressed in your skirt and blouse in his living room, with a look of shock on your pretty face. 
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Series Masterlist
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anastasiabowe · 4 months
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“𝗧𝗢𝗢 𝗕𝗜𝗚!” — KNBmen and how they comfort you and work you down on their big cocks.
note: Enjoy!
Content warnings: Praise, piv, pain kink, dacryphilia, big dick, head, choking, cum swallowing, anything else!
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★ — KAGAMI
Kagami is VERY gentile. He cannot and WILL NOT hurt you. He just can’t do it! Sometimes his personal needs get the best of him, but he makes sure you beat him up afterwards.
Kagami prefers if you take the lead only so you can take your time and use your dick as much as you want. He likes when you can just be comfortable and happy!
Although he hates you being in pain, he can’t help but get a little turned on knowing his cock is like a spear that is plotting you open- hey, it might be a weird kink, but he’s happy he is more than enough for you!
“Good girl.” Kagami groaned as you slowly lowered down on him. Your legs shook and strained as the pain between your legs and the burning in your thighs became nearly unbearable.
“I-it’s too big!” You whimpered. “And my legs hurt!” Tears welled in your eyes, and your throat burned.
Kagami grabbed your hips to help relieve the burn in your thighs after he heard your cry. You grateful, slowly slid inch by inch down his cock until you were now comfortably (leg wise) sitting on him.
Kagami leaned up and softly kissed your lips. “Doing so good f’me, take your time.” He praised as you nodded and kissed him back, tears in your eyes.
“Take your time.” He repeated.
★ — KUROKO
Kuroko is surprisingly mean! Not mean like Aomine (which you will soon see) but he’s mean! If you’re not riding, he’s bullying his way into his pussy. He did his best to stretch you before hand, so it shouldn’t hurt, right?
Wrong! It hurts like hell, every. Fucking. Time! Kuroko just tunes you out and continues to slowly but faster than comfort slide in to your tight cunt.
Kuroko usually stops when he’s fully sheathed inside, he may be mean, but he isn’t cruel. He’ll also kiss you and rub your sides as you sniffle from crying earlier.
“*hip* y-your *hip* so mean!” You cry as he finally bottomed out. He groaned trying not to cum right then and there, and all you could do is try to catch your breath from all the hysterical crying you were doing.
“I’m sorry baby, you just feel so good.” His soft voice comforted as his dick twitched at every whimper and hic from you recovering.
He kissed your wet lips, and you kissed him back. He grabbed your face, and used his thumbs to rub your cheeks soothingly.
“Just take some deep breaths, I won’t move, promise.” His blue eyes locked on your glossy ones, and you nodded and controlled your breathing. When the pain soon decreased, and a burn of desire took over, all signs of being upset and sad disappeared.
“Ready?” He asked, and you nodded eagerly.
“Words please.”
“I’m r-ready.”
“Ok, I’m going to move now, squeeze my hand if it’s too much.” He grabbed your hand and you smiled.
“Ok!” He smiled back and pulled his hips back and pushed them in.
★ — KISE
Kise starts off really mean but then when he hears you cry he is an instant golden teddy bear, I swear on my life! He wants to act tough and like he enjoys being in control, which is partly true, but the second you cry out in pain, that persona went out the window.
Kise will usually have you in mating press, he loves to see your face in pain or pleasure, but if it’s just outright unbearable pain in your face, he will switch up.
He would stop all of his movements and focus on your soft spots and your sensitive ones to get you comfortable!
“K-Kise!” You gasp in pain, and he ignores you. You cling to his back and he continued to push in.
“Stop! Please it hurts!” Again he ignores you and continues pushing in. At some point you started sobbing, and that must have knocked him out of whatever he was in. You didn’t want to use your safe word, you didn’t want him to completely stop, you just wanted him to slow down!
He blinked and looked at your face. His eyes widened and his eyebrows furrowed. He stopped moving iing, and grabbed your face.
“S-shit, I’m sorry!” He looked frantic, yet you could still sense a bit of lust coming off of him. “I-I must of zoned out, I’m so sorry baby!” His blonde locks tickled your face, and you felt upset at him. Very upset.
“I asked you to *hip* stop!” You continued to cry and he slowly pulled out, making you wrap your legs around him to stop.
“Don’t pull out!” He looked at you confused and you whined your eyes. “Just slow down! Y-you big fat bitch!” You insulted him, making him laugh knowing who you were really talking about.
“I’m sorry, baby, I’ll slow down. Just can’t help getting excited when I have all this to myself!” He pecked your lips, and whiled the rest of the tears in your face.
★ — AOMINE
The biggest, the meanest, the most utterly cruel man you know! Well, you chose this man, so you’re not REALLY complaining, but still!
Aomine is a sadist, a very mild one, and your kind of a masochist so you both go hand in hand, but just because you enjoy a little bit of pain doesn’t mean you can’t say he isn’t mean!
Aomine has a tendency to just slam himself into you, and slowly fuck you to be nice. He loves to hear you cry for him, he loves to see your eyes widen in pain, he just loves loves LOVES it!
Aomine slammed into you, making you scream and dig your fresh nails into the pillows. “Mine!” You cry out, he growled and fucked you harder than usual.
“You know you like it, you slut.” He pounded into you, and you continued to cry and cry. He had you in doggy, and you could feel the pillows getting wetter and wetter from your tears, making you feel agitated.
“Please slow down!” You begged, not wanting him to, but the idea of it didn’t sound to bad either.
“Nah, like hearing you cry on my cock.” He chuckled, as he continued to pound into you. You sniffled and cried and he just continued to claim what was his. Aomine wrapped his arm around your torso and pulled you up to him. He continued to fuck you while also kissing your neck.
“Such a good fucking slut. Taking my dick better than normal, bet you like when I use you like this.” You whimper when you felt your high coming in.
“A-aomin-“ he sucked in your neck and you moaned.
“What?” He mocked when you fell silent. The pleasure was becoming so much.
“Already fucked my baby dumb. What do you know!” He chuckled.
★ — MURASAKIBARA
Murasakibara doesn’t even know he’s big. I mean he knows it, but whenever he tried to put it in, it just doesn’t… fit? Like, I mean, his tip doesn’t slide in, he has to physically push the tip in, like more than how normal guy who have big dicks have too.
You usually have a hard time when it comes to his dick because he can’t even put it all inside of you, it reaches your cervix at halfway. So he can’t fuck you luke he wants too.
So whenever it doesn’t usually work out he just uses your mouth instead.
“Fuck baby, using your mouth like a fucking pro.” He praised as your mouth opened to the hilt. He was reaching deep in your throat, and you couldn’t breath very well. You pulled off and coughed. His stomach fluttered with butterfly’s when he saw that his dick was too much for you to handle.
“What’s wrong baby?” He pushed the hair out of your face, and a visible pour formed on your lips.
“I can’t take it all! You’re too big!” You wanted to impress him, even though he was already very impressed by you. You always impress him.
“It’s ok baby, you’re doing so well!” He praised and you didn’t believe him.
You liwerwd back on him and tried to take him again, this time much harder than last time since your throat was in defense mode.
Murasakibara brought his heavy hand to the back of your head and pushed you down. You gagged but tried your best. Tears spilled out your eyes from the pressure, and he only encouraged you to continue, and you did.
You bobbed your head despite it only being halfway there. He groaned and you felt a warm and slightly salty liquid fill your mouth.
He held you down despite you tapping his thigh to breath. He grabbed your hair and pulled you up. He chuckled and squished your cheeks with his other hand. You were coughing, and he was treating you like a baby.
“Breathe baby, breath.” You wiped your mouth, and he let go of your cheeks.
“How about we try my cock in your pussy next?”
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radioactive-mouse · 2 months
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i keep thinking about like. how the brutality levels vary between seasons and how secret life is the natural culmination of everything these people have been through and the watchers pushing everything to extremes. i’m going to try to articulate how crazy this makes me
3rd Life: god. 3rd life was a clear cut war. we haven’t seen a season since where nearly everyone has such an intense devotion to their chosen faction. the fact that there’s no precedent that they’re coming back next season, the fact that as far as they know, dying means staying dead, makes just how much they’re willing to go down with the ship that much more heartbreaking. grian ended the season exactly how it was played by damn near everyone else— i love you, i would do anything for you, i would rather die than keep going without you. the season of widows.
Last Life: and then they come back. and then ending things isn’t an option. and all of a sudden it’s not a war, it’s a death match, and damn is the competition is vicious. deaths are more often than not a vague, impersonal thing— not get away from my king, my husband, my charge— just the flash of a knife and a quick sorry, just playing the game! if 3rd life told you to hold the ones you love close, defend them to your last breath, last life urges you to burn that love out of your chest entirely.
Double Life: but everything slows down eventually. no more dying for the one you love— just learning to live with them. double life is about knowing that when you die, you will go together, hand and hand into the dark. a soap opera, the players joke. a small kindness, the universe replies. again, pearl wins the same way everyone else lost— no, not yet, please, just give us a little longer together, i’m not ready, i’m so sorry—
Limited Life: but the clock, unyielding, ticks ever onward. and god, everyone is starting to feel it. that sick, nauseating feeling of dread creeping up on them: what if it never ends? what if this is it, this is all that’s left for us— tearing each other apart over and over and over again, and for what? for a show? to feed those hungry things lurking in the dark? we’ll give them a show. bombs rain from the sky, the world shaking under the weight of it. there isn’t a thing left by the end that’s not rubble. we’re all doomed! the players cry, laughing with nothing but nihilistic, unrestrained joy. none of it matters! we come back again, and again, and again, have a little fun with it! light the fuse, collateral be damned. when death means so little, what’s the point in pretending they don’t take a little joy in it? we settle this like grian and scar before us, scott jokes, armor and weapons tossed to the side. are you insane? martyn thinks, remembering the hollow look that would wash over grian’s face when he thought no one was watching. it ruined him. it will not ruin me. this is a death match for a reason.
Secret Life: and here it is. the natural conclusion. this season is candy colored, the map dotted with cute pink houses and silly builds, the players all running around doing these ridiculous tasks. it’s so easy to forget how bloody this season was. unclosing wounds, bruises that don’t fade, the sting of fire or falling from a simple misstep. the hurt never goes away, but it gets easier to ignore— distract yourself with something silly to pass the time: spyglasses and frogs and the ugliest house you’ve ever seen and matching leather jackets and the doghouse and the relationSHIP and a weird tunnel full of doors and secret soulmates and god it’s almost, almost, enough to forget how much it all aches, how much the grief weighs on you, how many times someone you love has died, sometimes to your own blade. almost none of the grudges you hold are real by now, not really. not when you’re going to live and die with these people for as long as the hungry, many-eyed things delight in your suffering. you love each other, in the strangest way— sure you’ve all killed and betrayed each other in a thousand different ways, but at the end of the day, they’re all you have. clinging to each other in the face of the vast, unknowable horrors that drive you to slash each other to pieces. it’s still a game, after all. they’ve gotta figure out how to be good sports about it eventually.
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milktei · 1 year
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Hold me Tight
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Kamisato Ayato x fem!wife!Reader
Genre: Arranged Marriage au, idk if it can be called a slow burn but that’s what I’m calling it, fluff, smidge of angst.
Warnings: unconventional relationship, Reader is described to have long hair that is brushed through. not edited
Requests: Open
a/n: another one out! :o Had to indulge myself a little bit before getting back to requests. arranged marriage au’s are my guilty pleasure and i just felt like writing for genshin again. Hair brushing and physical affection is also just such a big thing for me I had to write it. So if it isn’t obvious i wrote this mostly for selfish reasons and that is the reason why it may be sort of all over the place lol. I hope it’s enjoyable either way!
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A hug is all you longed for really. For someone to wrap warm arms around you and let you completely melt into them.
Being married it should be an easy ask
How unfortunate it is for you that your husband wants nothing to do with you.
Although the more you thought about it, perhaps that wasn’t entirely true. He did agree to the marriage hadn’t he?
He was the head of his clan, the Yashiro commissioner. Throughout the entirety of the process of arranging your marriage, Kamisato Ayato had every right, and more than enough chances to stop it from going through.
He had nothing to lose if he decided he wasn’t ready for marriage, which was an excuse many citizens of Inazuma had heard over the years.
He really had nothing to gain from it either.
It confused you from the day the elders of your clan elatedly told you that by some insane amount of luck, the Kamisato Ayato had accepted “your” marriage proposal that had been sent in as almost an obligation.
There was no harm in trying and you were now living proof of that.
Why you? out of all the suitors he definitely had, he had chosen you. While your clan was one of the head producers of tea leaves in the country, you still couldn’t wrap your mind around his acceptance, it was not like the Kamisato’s needed the tea, they could have afforded it anyways.
There was no political gain for him either as he was already a tri-commissioner, you weren’t even in line to become heir! Your uncle was the head of the clan and your cousins would follow in his footsteps.
The gossip about you flew all over inazuma like a storm cloud, and you heard it all, people weren’t always subtle in their curiosity or distaste in you after all.
Some of the talk was harsh and negative, and yet you couldn’t help but partially agree with what some people were saying about you.
You were a nobody as far as nobility went. The only reason you could think of as to why Ayato chose you, was likely to reduce the amount of mail that he got, as the marriage proposals had virtually stopped after your wedding. Aside from some particularly desperate people.
Perhaps you really were the best candidate for him. You weren’t a prominent figure in the public eye, you weren’t after the Kamisato’s fame and fortune, and you weren’t the type of person to fawn over your husband 24/7 and demand he shower you in riches and attention.
Although you almost wish that you were. Maybe then you wouldn’t be longing for a hug as badly as you currently were.
While it was true that being married to Ayato meant that you had nearly everything you could ask for at your fingertips, and that it was rare for you to be denied anything—not like you asked for much anyways—the one thing you could not ask for, was your husband’s affection. How ironic. the one person you spewed rehearsed vows to about being his rock and what not, was the one person you could not get an ounce of love or affection from.
Of course you had never really had the chance to try at this point, as despite being married for 6 months already, you can count the amount of times you had a full conversation with the man on one hand.
“I hope that you can find it in you to excuse my lord. He is a very busy man.” Thoma had told you the day you had moved in and your husband was no where to be seen. The look he gave you the mixture of empathy and a wince.
That was the day reality set in. He looked at you kindly on the day you got married. Soft smiles graced both of your features during the ceremony, and you two spoke amicably during the extravagant reception. But this was an arranged marriage, a contract more than a relationship, and you both had duties to fulfill.
A smile that had been drilled into you since your etiquette classes from your youth crossed your face “There’s no need to worry about me Thoma, I understand.”
So you had to learn to get used to being alone in an estate bustling with people. You opened your wedding gifts alone, sorted them accordingly and even sent out an astonishing amount of individual thank you cards to all the guests you had at your wedding.
You often ate alone, save for the times Ayaka and Thoma had time to accompany you. Aside from being reached out to for second opinions or approval you weren’t given a formal job on the estate. Instead you were given an allowance, and were free to spend your days doing whatever you wanted, so long as the Kamisato name was protected.
Yes that was another thing you had to get used to, “Kamisato y/n”, “My lady Kamisato.” Hearing the latter was especially hard, that title felt as if it was reserved only for your sister-in-law, she definitely represented it with more grace than you thought you were ever capable of.
The name and all the responsibilities it came with weighed down on your shoulders unlike anything you had every experienced prior, and here you pushed against it alone. Forced to go through the transition into married life without the other half of the partnership to support you.
That led you to your predicament now. You were coming to the realization that you were horribly touch starved.
It was even worse on cold windy days, or when it rained. All it did was remind you about how your late parents would use those days to curl up with you, a warm blanket, and a book to laze the day away and wish for nicer weather the next so that you could go out on a picnic.
you longed for those days of warmth and love again. Your family had been quite affectionate with one another. While Ayaka would come and spend time with you, treating you like an older sibling. Nothing could reach the craving deep within you.
You sighed to yourself as you walked through the streets of Inazuma, ignoring the whispers of people who passed and recognized who you were.
Or rather who you were married to.
“My lady Kamisato!” greeted the Yae publishing house worker. “You’ve come at a great time, the new volume of your favourite series has just released.”
The worker handed you the book in question and you couldn’t help the excitement that rose within you as you quickly flipped through “I was hoping that I’d be able to pick something up today. I’ve been needing more things to do when the weather doesn’t permit me to go outside. Any other recommendations?”
The worker smiled at you sweetly and handed you another book “Surely Lord Ayato, is able to keep you from getting too bored at the estate my lady?”
Your smile faltered ever so slightly, you couldn’t let it drop in front of the worker, the last thing you wanted was for anymore rumours to spread. You pretended to read the synopsis of the book that was handed to you. “Yes of course, but there are still times where he is not available. My husband is a very busy man.”
My husband, you didn’t think you would ever get used to referring to him as that. He felt like nothing more than a stranger who’s house you happened to live in, who you shared a family name with, who would grace you with a soft smile and a nod as you passed each other at the estate each making your ways to your separate rooms.
A gust of wind blew through the streets and both you and the worker shivered. You looked at the sky and frowned at the dark clouds rolling in, you flinched as a singular rain drop landed on your cheek.
The worker also looked up “it really is rainy season isn’t it?” they looked to you “I would recommend you head home soon my lady, looks like it’s gonna come down any minute now and you’ve got a long walk back to the Kamisato estate”
You sighed, “what a shame, I was hoping to run a couple more errands today.” you payed for both books and placed them into your bag with a smile “thank you for the advice I’ll head out now.”
You walked away from the shop in the direction of the estate, waving behind you as the worker told you to stay safe.
———
Perhaps you should have stayed in town.
You come to this realization as you’re halfway to the estate. Komore tea house would have been much nicer than the weather you were experiencing currently.
The singular raindrop you had felt earlier had slowly progressed into a little more than a drizzle and you groaned to yourself as your clothing grew heavier as it absorbed more and more water.
You should have grabbed your umbrella
It was practically pouring by the time you had gotten to the estate, the trees of Chinju forest providing surprisingly little shelter against the rain.
Quickly, you rushed under the cover of the roof of the estate and sighed in relief once you weren’t being pelted by water. You looked down at you clothes and cringed at the water dripping from the fabric and your hair onto the dark wood
Wringing out what you could beforehand, you opened the front doors of the estate as quietly as you could, albeit in vain as Thoma and your husband were having a discussion right at the entrance.
Both men turned to look at you as the door closed and you could only stare back awkwardly as the sound of water dripping from you clothes and hair, along with your shivering filled the room.
Thoma was the first to break the silence and began fussing over you not unlike a mother hen.
“My lady you’re soaking wet! You’re going to get sick! I’ll have the maids draw a bath for you. Please allow me to grab your belongings. I’ll have tea ready for you once you’re done.
Before you knew it, you were standing in your bathroom with a steaming tub waiting for you. Still bewildered at what had transpired moments before.
Still, Thoma and his efforts were never unwelcome as the bath was exactly what you needed.
You took your time in the bath, taking in the scent of the flowers and oils put in by the maids, appreciating how well the water warmed your once cold body.
Once finished, you were quick to dry off and get dressed, still towel drying your hair as you entered your room.
As promised, Thoma had left a tea set on the table in your room with a container holding tea leaves, knowing you liked to brew it yourself.
The only thing out of place was an extra tea cup.
As if on cue, the door to your room was gently slid open and your jaw nearly dropped at the sight of pale blue hair.
“My lord!” you greeted, the words leaving you mouth before you could even try to stop them.
Ayato paused as the two of you made eye contact, it was almost as if he was surprised himself that you were in your own room.
Ayato was the first to regain his composure after clearing his throat. “Majority of my plans for today have been cancelled due to the weather, I was hoping you could allow me to join you for a bit.”
Your head was spinning, not able to wrap itself around the fact that your husband was in your room and actively trying to spend time with you.
“Of course if that’s how you wish to spend your free time my lord.” you stammered, part of you still believing that this was some sort of dream.
A small shiver ran down your spine and you were reminded of the damp hair that ran down your back. You looked to the vanity in your room and then back at your husband.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I would like to fix my hair situation beforehand.”
“Of course y/n there’s no need to worry, it’s just me.”
That was precisely why you were panicking on the inside at that moment. It was only the man who was so busy, that his presence in the house on a daily basis resembled that of a gust of wind.
You sat down at you vanity and picked up one of your combs, beginning the task of untangling the mess you had created both in the rain and bath.
You nearly groaned out loud to yourself, you had kept your hair long to be able to use the multitude of flamboyant hair accessories you had acquired, but brushing it had always been your least favourite part of the entire process.
A awkward cough caused you to look at the man in your room.
“if you are comfortable with it…I could help you brush your hair.”
You stared in shock at the man in front of you. His face was genuine but you could tell by the reddening of his ears that he was flustered, the most you had ever seen from him.
The combination of being a witness to such a rare site and the fact that you were still in shock that he was there in the first place, had you speaking without much thought.
“That would be very helpful my lord, thank you.”
The surprise on his face was visible You could only hope that your whirlwind of emotions wasn’t as obvious.
Still, not one to go back on his word, Ayato gently took the comb from your outstretched hand and began to work. His powerful presence behind you almost causing you to curl in on yourself.
He was gentle, his hands warm as they followed your comb, a warm feeling spread throughout you chest as he so carefully detangled your hair, taking his time.
You hoped that he wouldn’t be able notice through your reflection just how flustered you were at this moment. Your face was hot, your breathing was slightly rapid and you couldn’t find it in yourself to look up at the mirror in fear that your eyes would connect.
Yet this moment felt so intimate, so tender and domestic. You could almost believe that you two were much closer than you really were.
A soft chuckle broke you from your thoughts.
“This brings me back.” Ayato sighed wistfully, “when we were younger, Ayaka would let me do this for her. Though she seemed less than impressed when I would try different styles on her. I wonder if she would trust me with her hair again after all this time.”
You smiled down at your fidgeting hands “I’m sure she would if you promised no more experiments my lord.”
Ayato hummed in contemplation “I suppose you may be right, but at the same time maybe I won’t need to ask her if I already have yours within reach.” He leaned closer to your ear, “After all, am I wrong to assume that you are enjoying this my dear wife?”
Your face felt like it was on fire, you had never heard him call you that to your face before. You could feel the smug smile that was currently gracing his features as he leaned back and continued his actions.
“Well?” He urged after a moment
“No you are not wrong to assume that my lord.” You managed to stammer out. Your hands clenched into fists in your lap as you forced yourself to say the truth, knowing well that he would be able to see through any lie.
He sighed. “Please y/n I think we’re at a point where we can drop the formalities.”
Your eyes widened at his words and you spoke the first thing that came to mind.
“Are we really?”
His hand that was holding the brush froze mid stroke, the room was suddenly filled with a chilled silence and you cringed at the amount of malice an anger that you managed to fit into one simple question.
This was no way to talk to the man you were married to.
“Forgive me my… Ayato. I did not mean to sound so harsh I just-“
“No no there’s no need to apologize.” ayato assured. He raked a hand through your hair and chuckled bitterly, “I supposed it is my fault that you feel this way about our…situation
You opened your mouth to protest but nothing came out. What he said wasn’t a lie to make you feel better for snapping at him. It was entirely the truth and you were grateful that he understood where you were coming from.
“Finished.” He stated softly before placing the comb back on your vanity. “I hope that I haven’t worn out my welcome.”
You paused for a moment, thinking about the situation you found yourself in, while wanting to get yourself out of the awkward moment, you knew that a chance to spend time with him again would be rare.
“You haven’t, don’t worry,” you stated as you slowly rose from your seat. Still refusing to look up at him you gestured to the low table where the tea set sat, “Please have a seat, I’ll brew the tea for us.”
It was quiet as you worked, the only sounds in the room being the clink of tea set, and the crinkle of tatami mats. You thanked Thoma in your mind when you saw that he had prepared leaves that were better steeped in lower temperatures, as the water had cooled down since he first boiled it.
“We’ll have to wait a couple minutes.” You said as you closed the lid of the teapot. Ayato nodded and an awkward silence filled the room.
“I don’t want to use me being busy as an excuse.” Ayato suddenly blurted out.
You finally look up at him in surprise “Pardon?”
Ayato cleared his throat “My apologies. It’s just that I know that everyone has been using me being busy to excuse me for being absent in this relationship. While I know that lin its simplest terms, what we have between us is a contract, part of me still hoped that I would be able to get to know you well and we could be much more than strangers. There are many times where I could have put my work aside and spent more time with you, but I for some reason I never found myself taking those opportunities.”
He looked almost guilty as he continued. “Now here I am, months later knowing next to nothing about you, and on top of that I expected you to be comfortable with speaking casually around me when we have barely even spoken before.
You pondered to yourself as you poured tea into his cup “Well if it makes you feel any better,” you poured more into your own “I also know next to nothing about you.”
“Unfortunately that only seems to add salt to the wounds my dear.” Ayato grumbled.
Your eyes widened at the pet name and you quickly lifted your teacup to your face to hide your embarrassment.
Ayato followed suit and hummed in satisfaction as he drank. “Well I do know one thing now. My wife is excellent at brewing tea. It must run in your family’s genes.”
You waved him off “it’s just something that comes with experience, my uncle is the true master.”
“I also now know that my wife finds it hard to accept compliments.”
“Hey!”
Ayato smiled at you teasingly as you glared at him, though there was no anger behind it.
“Well now that’s unfair,” you stated “I should get to learn something about you now.”
Your husband raised an eyebrow, “well what would you like to know?”
You faltered for a moment, not expecting him to relent so easily, “well…” you stuttered, “what type of tea would you consider your favourite?”
“Really digging deep are we y/n?”
“I couldn’t think of something straight away!”
Despite the teasing, the questions continued, it was as if you were on a first date.
Except you were already living together and married.
One question was asked after the other. Ranging from you asking him about the daily life of a tri-commissioner, to him asking about the books you had bought earlier in the day.
It was only after Thoma had brought dinner to your room, that you had finally asked.
“So why me?”
Ayato’s chopsticks paused mid air “Why what?”
You narrowed your eyes at him, he was playing dumb.
“Why did Inazuma’s most desired bachelor, Yashiro commissioner, leader of the famed Shuumatsuban, and the man who brought the Kamisato Clan back to its former glory, the Kamisato Ayato. Decide that a nobody from a tea producing clan was the one you would want to spend the rest of you life with.”
Ayato looked at you in exasperation “You aren’t a nobody y/n there’s so much more to you.”
“We don’t need to get down to the specifics, don’t avoid the question!” You exclaimed, ignoring the pleased smile on his face as he took in your flustered state.
Ayato put a hand to his chin and hummed as if contemplating something grand. He took a moment to respond. “Would you believe me if I said that I found you to be a very interesting person y/n?”
You stared at him blankly.
“Don’t lie to me we didn’t even meet until the wedding.”
The smile that he sent you sent a chill down your spine “Well I suppose that’s true in a sense, but we have been in each other’s presence on multiple occasions.”
You couldn’t mask the your surprise, “we have?”
Ayato looked at you incredulously. “Surely you know how often the Yashiro commission requests supplies from your clan for the multiple events we host.”
You fiddled with your teacup “Well sure but that doesn’t mean that it was a guarantee that we bump into each other. I’m sure I would have remembered being in the presence of you of all people.”
Ayato shrugged, “Being in the public eye is much more my sisters domain. I tend to stick to the shadows during bigger festivals that I’m interested in. During one of these times… you caught my eye.”
Your eyes widened “I did?”
He looked bashful as he continued his story, you were sure that you were the first person to ever see him in this state.
“I always knew of you, as I often meet with your uncle for business. I don’t know if you know this but he often worries about you and tends to talk about you during these meetings.” Ayato hummed in contemplation. “Perhaps it was a tactic to make me say yes to the upcoming proposal”
You groaned in horror at the realization that the two men had been talking about you “I apologize for my uncles actions.”
Ayato waved dismissively “Thats not the point. At a festival is where I first saw you and was able to put a name to a face. What I didn’t expect was the fact that everything about you had fascinated me. The way you danced and had that kind of sparkle in you eyes as you wandered around in wonder. The way you kindly greeted everyone you met. I found myself looking for you at following festivals to see if that was always how you looked…it was.”
“So it was only my looks” you teased
he sighed exasperated “Of course not”
You laughed “I’m kidding. Keep going.”
“Then at one point I was due for a meeting at your estate with your uncle and I might have listened in on a deal you were striking with a business man. The confidence in your voice was obvious and the way you negotiated with grace and kindness, yet still with firmness, had me intrigued within the first couple seconds of me hearing it. My interest only grew when your meeting had concluded and I saw you step out. with an accomplished smile on your face”
You gaped at him, you very rarely took part in your family’s business deals, only helping with what your cousins or uncle were too busy to handle. For him to be there at that time on that day was truly a great coincidence.
“You really piqued my interest that day. Although it was not my first choice in ways to get closer to you, when I saw the proposal sent by your clan, everything seemed to fall into place.” Ayato laughed but his tone soon turned solemn.
“Unfortunately not everything worked out for me, because look at how things are going. I left you to fend for yourself against the public, we rarely see each other, and this is the longest we have ever spoken despite being married for months. I think I was just afraid of crossing any boundaries, after all this marriage is arranged and I had no idea as to how you felt about me.”
Without thinking you reached over the table and grabbed one of his hands in both of yours, touched by how vulnerable he was being with you, “I wouldn’t have agreed to the marriage so easily if I thought ill of you in any way, while I may not have known you, you also piqued my interest. I won’t lie I was- still am extremely shocked, but I saw nothing bad coming out of this marriage really. It started off slow but we’re talking now, and well, don’t you think we’ve made some great progress?”
He smiled endearingly at you, “yes, I am grateful for this opportunity and hope that we can continue on this path.”
You laughed, “now you’re making it sound like a business deal.”
After that, you and Ayato finished your dinner making pleasant conversation. The sun had long gone down when he made the call for the both of you to retire for the night.
He once again stood in the doorway of your room, only this time you were standing right in front of him.
“I’ll have a heavier workload tomorrow but I think I’ll be able to join you for dinner again.”
You smiled up at him “I would like that, please let me know if there’s anything I can help you with, I’m part of this clan too you know.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you y/n.”
There was a pause and Ayato reluctantly continued. “Well I should take my leave for the night.”
As he turned, something seemed to overcome you, and you grabbed at his wrist,
“Ayato.”
He froze and turned to look at you curiously. you shyly looked away, “before you go. May I have a hug?”
He gave you a teasing smile, “this is all happening so fast, what will everyone think?”
“Oh please we’re already married.”
He laughed and his smile softened.
Without anymore words, Ayato opened his arms.
You couldn’t hold back the giddy smile that crossed your face and without hesitation you allowed yourself to melt into his embrace for the first time in what would become many.
A scent that was uniquely his filled your nose, and as you pressed against his chest you could feel and hear his heart pounding just as hard as yours. You nearly sighed in satisfaction as you wrapped your arms around his waist. A need you had been suppressing for months had finally been fulfilled. His hold was strong and comforting, his hold making you feel like you again.
Ayato chuckled to himself as his grip tightened, “well now I’ve found myself in a predicament.”
Still holding onto him, you turned your head to look up at him. “What is it?”
“I don’t want to let go.”
2K notes · View notes
asahicore · 9 months
Text
love calculator - pjh (m)
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this work contains smut - minors please do not interact
pairing. best friend!jihoon x fem!reader
synopsis. You were sure that Jihoon only took care of you so well because your brother had tasked him with looking after you when you started university, so you tried not to read too much into his actions until you couldn't deny your increasing sensitivity around your best friend anymore. What you didn't know was Jihoon was going crazy, finding ways to make his feelings for you more obvious than they already were.
genre. f2l, brother's friend, slight childhood friends action, college au, slow burn?, fluff, smut (mutual first time, they do it raw, dirty talking, very soft dom!jihoon)
warnings. jihoon is a menace, jihoon has a hot bod, junkyu is mean to everyone, mc is a bit slow, side romance but i dont actually ship idols i have a life, omegle, ok theres no actual stuff to be warned about its all good in there
word count. 28.2k dont ask me why or how idk either
a/n. there she is... i spent SO much time on her pls love it lots or i'll cry.. it was sm fun writing for jihoon omg i hope u love hoonyn as much as i do !!! @zreamy my dear sweet little zo ty for betareading this and freaking out over jihoon u rock
1K follower trope event - requested by @mosviqu, tysm for requesting and i really hope u enjoy it !!!! - listen to the playlist!
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Oddly enough, it was Jihoon’s biceps that first made you think something was wrong with you.
It was the fourth week of the spring semester, that odd in-between when you knew midterms were creeping up but were still far away enough to be ignored. This meant that you could party guilt-free.
The plan for tonight was to pregame at one of those huge uni dorms where ten students shared a kitchen then head to an overpriced club downtown that always had the best music on Friday nights. You didn’t have any classes on Fridays, so you’d headed to Jihoon’s place around four p.m. to get ready together. Usually, that was something you’d do with Minjeong, your roommate, but that weekend, she was away for an excursion with her Geography course. 
He was in the shower when you rang the doorbell, so his flatmate let you in, and you made yourself comfortable on his bed while waiting for him. You were so engrossed in the romance Webtoon you’d started that morning that at first, when he came in, you didn’t even look up from your phone. 
“Hey, Y/N,” he said casually, unfazed by your sudden appearance in his room. The soft smell of his body wash filled the room, and you noted with smugness that it was the one you had jokingly given him for Christmas after you’d gotten fed up with his strong, ever-present Axe scent. 
“Hey, Hoonie. You smell nice. For once.”
He chuckled. “It’s all thanks to you.”
“What would you do without me?” you said with a sigh, then looked up. You shouldn’t have. “Oh.”
The sight you were met with was unlike anything you’d ever seen in real life - Jihoon in all his post-shower half-naked glory, a simple white towel hanging low on his hips. Small beads of water fell from his hair and dripped down his chiseled chest and onto the plush carpet lining his bedroom.
You were pretty sure you’d seen at least five scenes like this in your romance comics.
“Oh?” he parroted.
You squinted your eyes at your friend before turning your attention back to your phone. “You’re naked.”
From the corner of your eye, you saw his grin widen. “I’m wearing a towel.”
“A towel isn’t clothes.” He turned around to rummage through his closet, and you took that opportunity to observe him more closely. This was the first time you saw your friend without a shirt, and you were trying your very hardest to not freak out, but it was a bit hard not to. Who would have known that under his baggy shirts and sweaters, Jihoon was hiding firm abs, broad shoulders, defined back muscles and protruding biceps?
His arms were what really got you, because you felt like you should have noticed them before. You’d already caught yourself staring a little bit too hard at the veins on his hands and forearms during a lecture before, so you could’ve conjectured that the upper part of his arms was well-defined as well. As mesmerizing as the shifting of his shoulder muscles was, what you really couldn’t look away from was the bump that formed his bicep. 
“Jihoon, have you always had… arms?”
You had barely even realized you’d said this out loud until Jihoon turned around, a confused look on his face. His lips drew into a smirk when he saw how fixed your gaze on his biceps was.
“No, they just grew recently. Thank you for noticing.”
“No, I mean… arms. Muscles.”
“Oh, these?” he said, flexing his arms and pecking his biceps in such a cheesy way that it snapped you out of your reverie and made you burst into laughter. “I started working on them last year so, yeah, they’ve been around a while.”
“Huh,” you said, then picked your phone up again and resumed your reading. “Well, you should work harder, ‘cause it’s the first time I noticed them.”
Jihoon scoffed. “Don’t act like you weren’t just drooling over my dream bod just seconds ago.”
You looked up, outraged. “I wasn’t drooling, I was observing. And don’t call it a dream bod, that’s gross.”
“My bod is a dream bod.”
“Stop it.”
“Can you look away from my dream bod for a sec? I need to put some pants on.”
“I’m already actively not looking. This dude is way hotter than you, by the way,” you said, waving your phone.
“Let me see him,” Jihoon said, heading towards you after successfully putting a shirt and sweatpants on. Gray sweatpants, you realized with a frown. He took your phone and looked back and forth between the character on the screen and you, an expression of disbelief on his face. “Y/N, this is a two-dimensional fictional character that exists in a fairyland. It hurts my feelings when you call him hotter than me.”
A lip grew on your lips. “Yes, but he has pointy ears and doesn’t refer to his body as a dream bod, so he’s a ten in my books.”
As you spoke, Jihoon lay down on his bed, stretching his arms behind his head and resting it on his palms, looking up at you with a grin. You didn’t know what to make of the sudden flip of your stomach.
“Will I be a ten in your books if I stop calling it a dream bod?”
You laughed. “Dream bod doesn’t even sound real anymore.”
“I don’t think it ever was, to be honest,” Jihoon replied, laughing along. “Or maybe they invented it for me.”
--
After that riveting discussion, you watched the show you’d been watching together (which, you had been surprised to find, Jihoon had the discipline to not watch ahead for), then finished getting ready. That night out hadn’t been particularly extraordinary. Pre-gaming had been fun and chaotic, but the line at the club had been so long that you’d all sobered up by the time you were inside and none of you felt compelled to pay for six dollar shots. At least the good music and nice DJ that took all of your requests made up for it.
The interesting bit happened on the bus ride back home.
By some miracle, Jihoon had run into some of his friendly course seniors that apparently liked him so much, they decided to pay for all of his drinks. Only an hour after getting into the club, he was nothing short of wasted. In your five months of being at university with him, you’d not once seen him in such a state - disheveled hair (from dancing too hard or from getting his hair ruffled like a cute dog by all of his seniors, you weren’t sure), deep red blush staining his cheeks, forehead, ears and neck, unfocused eyes and constant lopsided grin. When he almost tripped over his own feet during Gimme More by Britney Spears, you knew it was time to go home.
Jihoon was usually the one that had to deal with a drunk you, so you didn’t mind taking care of him this time. It was actually kind of fun, seeing this new side of the person who had become your closest friend in the past months. 
Luckily for you, a night bus ran directly from the downtown area you were in to the street you and Jihoon lived on, and you managed to lug him to the bus stop. Getting him onto the bus and into a seat was an arduous task, but you made it, and were enjoying a calm, uneventful ride home until you felt Jihoon’s head drop onto your shoulder. You thought he’d just fallen asleep, but then the unmistakable sound of his voice made itself known to your ears.
“Y/N, Y/N…” Jihoon murmured with a muffled voice, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You tried to ignore the prickly feeling down your spine when his lips moved against your skin.
“Yes, Hoonie?” you asked, a tilt of amusement to your voice. You really had never seen your friend so intoxicated.
He sighed, lifting his head from your shoulder and resting it against the window with a bang. He didn’t even wince at the impact of his head against the glass - the alcohol had apparently rid him of the sensation of pain.
“Don’t call me that,” he mumbled, voice so quiet you had to ask him to repeat himself. “I said don’t call me that!” 
You were taken aback by his sudden burst of irritation, but he sounded more like an upset child than anything.
“Call you what? Hoonie?”
“Yes.”
“Why? I’ve always called you that.” You tilted your head at him, but he kept his eyes fixed on the road outside.
“Exactly. You’re the only one who calls me that. Everyone else says Jihoon,” he said, annoyance clear in his voice. It sounded like this had been bothering him for a while, but it was complete news to you. “Can’t you even be bothered to say my full name, or something?”
You chuckled and brushed some hair out of his face. Like an angry cartoon character, he puffed air out of his nose and crossed his arms over his chest. His frown deepened and a blush spread over his face that was already red from the alcohol. “Should I call you Jihoon from now on?” you asked softly.
His reaction was immediate. He whipped around, almost knocking your head with his, a look of total alarm on his face. His eyes were almost teary. “No!” he exclaimed loudly, garnering glares from some of the other passengers in the bus who probably wanted some quiet this late at night. “No,” he repeated, this time more quietly, and turned back to the window.
In slight disbelief, you chuckled again. “What am I supposed to call you, then?”
“Just-” he started, but cut himself off with a sigh. “Just call me whatever.”
A small smile tugged at your lips. “I’ll stick to Hoonie, then.” 
He groaned as he lifted his head from the window and let it fall back against your shoulder. The angle must’ve made it highly uncomfortable for his neck, but he didn’t seem to mind. He only stayed still for a few seconds before shifting slightly and burying his face in the dip between your shoulder and your neck once more, then let out a low hum of satisfaction. 
“You smell nice,” he mumbled. Your breath caught in your throat. He was too close, his lips were too soft and his breath was too warm against your skin. Your whole body felt hot, like the bus driver had suddenly cranked the heat up and turned the bus into a sauna. “Like almonds,” he added, pressing his nose deeper into the base of your neck and inhaling there.
You tried to laugh, hoping it would dissipate the tension in your body, but it only came out as a choked sound. “It’s my body lotion,” you explained, voice weaker than you’d intended.
“Hm.”
You didn’t know what it was about Jihoon’s proximity that made your head spin so - no one had ever made you feel this way, and the fact that your body was reacting so intensely to someone you had considered your best friend for the past months made it all the more confusing.
“Are you asleep?” you asked him in a small voice after he’d been silent for some minutes.
“Just sleepy,” he murmured, shifting in his seat again. You tried not to shiver at the tickling sensation of his hair against your neck.
A pause. “Jihoon?”
“Don’t call me that.” You smiled, but there was a slight whine to his voice that, for some reason, made your heart ache. 
You corrected yourself. “Hoon?”
“Mmh?”
“Why did it bother you that I call you Hoonie, all of a sudden?”
He took so long to answer that you almost thought he hadn’t heard you. “Because… every time you call me that, it makes me love you more,” he answered, voice getting gradually lower until it became a whisper.
Everything seemed to disappear around you. The other passengers, the seat underneath you, the blinking lights and the night sky outside the window. It was just you and Jihoon, his body warm next to yours and the only thing keeping you tethered to Earth.
“Makes you… love… me?” you echoed tentatively. 
But no answer came. When you bent your head down to look at Jihoon, it seemed like he had fallen completely asleep, mouth slightly agape and the blush of alcohol still red on his face. You didn’t know what to make of his words, but there was no point asking him about them now. So you let him sleep on your shoulder, only waking him once you were nearing his stop. 
--
Jihoon woke up the next morning with a pounding head and a bruised ego.
He had always prided himself in his ability to drink copious amounts of alcohol and yet only end up tipsy. Sure, it wasn’t exactly good for his body, but it meant that he never had to turn down a drink or watch on the sidelines as his friends did shots, and he could still get home just fine and not wake up with a head-splitting hangover the next day. Unlike you, who started giggling for no reason after one pint of beer and who tore it up on the dancefloor or talked to strangers like you’d been besties for years after two shots of tequila.
It only made his state of the previous night that much more embarrassing. He wished he had your amazing memory-erasing superpowers - but sadly, he didn’t, and what happened in the bus was glued to his brain. 
Before he could even lift his head or get a cup of water, his phone rang, the sound invading his ears and splitting his head in two. He slid a thumb across his phone to accept the video call and was greeted by a close-up of Junkyu’s smiling face.
“Rise and shine! I heard someone got their party on last night.”
Jihoon groaned loudly, chucking his phone somewhere on his bed so he didn’t have to see his friend’s face anymore. His was definitely not the face he wanted to see first thing in the morning. Unfortunately for Jihoon, Junkyu had been blessed with an extraordinarily loud voice that still rang clear even when the speakers of Jihoon’s phone were stifled by his blankets.
“Y/N sent me a video of you. You looked ridiculous, man.”
“I hate you. I hate your face, I hate the way you talk, I hate how mean you are to me-”
“I can’t hear you. What was that?”
With another groan and a lot of difficulty, Jihoon raised his upper body and retrieved his phone. “You suck.”
Junkyu’s smile widened. “Well, that’s all from me. Have a glass of water!” he said cheerily before hanging up. Jihoon had never wanted to kill someone so badly.
His murderous feelings softened when he turned his head to find a plastic bottle of water and a headache pill along with a handwritten note on his bedside table. Have this and text me when you wake up! with five hearts at the bottom. It wasn’t signed, but he knew it was from you.
When the two of you met up for brunch sometime later, he kept searching your face and reading into your actions for any sign that what he’d said last night had made you uncomfortable. He’d expected you to be awkward around him, but your attitude almost made him think he’d imagined the whole thing. You joked around with him as usual, as if he hadn’t practically confessed to you last night, and he was desperate to know what might be going through your mind.
Had you forgotten? Had you chalked it up to him being drunk and talking nonsense? Had he had just thought it very hard, and not actually said it out loud? Or, worst of all, had you heard it all and understood him and decided to just ignore it for the sake of your friendship?
Jihoon was going crazy. He could barely taste his chicken and waffles.
The truth was, you just had no idea what to make of his words, and you were scared bringing it up might make things awkward. Jihoon could have forgotten all about it, or he could have meant something entirely different from where your wild, romance-comic-filled imagination went. Save for his tired eyes and groggy voice, he was no different at breakfast than he usually was, so you dropped it.
--
“Okay, Y/N, I think it’s time for you to go home now.” 
Different Friday night, different party. A week had passed and neither of you had mentioned what Jihoon had said on the bus - it wasn’t quite out of your minds just yet, but you’d both separately decided to pretend nothing had happened.
This time, Jihoon had found you in the hallway playing beer pong and downing the cup of beer your opponent had thrown the ball into. Everybody cheered you on as you gulped the cheap liquid down before lifting the empty cup over your head, eyes screwed shut at the unpleasant bitterness in your mouth. Jihoon wasn’t sure why you were playing - you hated beer, and you had one of the worst throws he’d ever seen. But even he, who was supposed to look after you, couldn’t suppress a smile at your attempt and inevitable total fail at scoring a point for your team. Even with all the concentration in the world, the sheer amount of alcohol in your system would’ve made it impossible for you to make it.
Back against the wall and arms crossed over his chest, he watched amusedly as you squinted your eyes at the cups across the table from you, even sticking out your tongue as if that would make your aim any better. After a few tense seconds, you threw the ping-pong ball and hit Lee Jeno right in the chest. You’d giggled at your own failure, letting people pat you on the back for trying and reassure you that it’s okay (even though you really didn’t care) before stumbling right into Jihoon. 
As soon as you’d recognized your friend’s face, you’d thrown your arms around his neck and pulled him down into a hug as you yelled his name happily; his hands had come up to your hips and gently pushed your body away from his. Then, he’d said the words you always hated to hear at a party.
“But we just got here!” you cried, the same answer you always gave him when he wanted to leave. You started walking away from him and back into the kitchen for more alcohol. He sighed but was quick to follow you.
“We got here three hours ago. Plus we did pres at Yoshi’s place. You’ve had way more than enough to drink,” he said, snatching a cup you’d just filled with punch from your hands.
“I was gonna drink that!” you complained, leaning against the counter for support. 
Jihoon took in your swaying body and your dazed eyes and knew he had to get you home. Any more alcohol and you’d pass out in this stranger’s apartment. Usually, he’d let you drink to your heart’s content and just make sure you got home safe afterwards, but midterms were coming up, and you’d planned on studying the next day - he was just trying to minimize the severity of your hangover. 
You mustered your most pitiful expression - to drunk you, there was no way Jihoon could resist your pouty lips and sad eyes. “Do we really have to go?” you asked, and Jihoon had to read your lips because of the loud music. 
He smirked, seeing right through your little act. He bent his upper body so that his lips were right next to your ear. “You’ll thank me tomorrow,” he replied, making you drop your fake sad expression.
“I should go say bye to Minjeong and the others first.”
“I’ve already told them we were leaving.”
You rolled his eyes at him and his stupid smile and lifted yourself from the counter, immediately losing your balance. Maybe you had drunk too much. At least Jihoon was there to catch you and prevent you from falling. He tried to put his arm around your shoulder to support you but you stepped away from him and fixed him a pointed look.
“I can still walk, you know.”
Jihoon smiled but said nothing, gesturing at you to go on and walk. You turned around and started making your way out of the place, ignoring Jihoon’s snickers as you bumped into various party-goers and pieces of furniture.  
When you reached the front door, you decided that actually, no, you couldn’t walk. Sliding against the wall, you let yourself drop into a crouching position. Your head suddenly felt like it was twice its normal weight and you regretted those last few shots of whatever it was you had drunk.
Jihoon sighed as he lowered himself and grabbed you under your armpits to lift you up. He had never been more thankful for an elevator and a bus stop only a minute’s walk away from where you were. Standing under bright lights in a desert and quiet street, it appeared like an oasis to Jihoon. Whoever’s party this had been, they lived in a really calm part of town. At this time on a Friday night, Jihoon’s street would be teeming with drunk students deciding which bar or club they should head to next.
You had never been more thankful for a bus stop with seats. You plopped yourself down on one of them, resting your head on the glass behind you and tightening your jacket around your shoulders. You closed your eyes, deciding this was the perfect time for a nap. 
“Are you cold?” Jihoon asked, his voice keeping you from nodding off. You let out a non-committal hum in response which he wasn’t sure how to interpret. He chuckled and you heard a rustling sound before feeling an added weight on top of your body. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured, then sat by your side.
Next thing you knew, Jihoon was making you stand again, and your feet moved of their own accord as he led you inside the bus. As soon as you were seated, you drifted back off to sleep. You jolted awake when your head drooped over, making you feel like you were falling. You sat up straight and looked around the empty bus, frantically asking Jihoon where you were.
“I’m taking you home,” he answered, laughter clear in his voice.
“Oh, okay,” you mumbled, and closed your eyes once more, falling back asleep in a matter of seconds. 
Jihoon watched with a tender smile as your mouth opened slightly and let soft snores escape it. Scooting closer to you, he placed his palm on your cheek and pulled your head towards his shoulder so it could rest there.
“Why do you drink so much if you can’t handle it?” he asked quietly, even though he knew you were already in dreamland.
--
When you opened your eyes the next morning, you felt like a kid who had fallen asleep in the car on the way home from a distant relative's wedding and mysteriously woken up in their bed. You stretched out your limbs, enjoying the softness and warmth of your sheets covering your body until a headache and pasty mouth hit you like a ton of bricks. It felt like the alcohol had made your brain shrivel inside of your skull - your whole body was screaming for water. 
Some kind of miracle had made a large glass of water appear on your bedside table, and you gulped it down in mere seconds. The hour on your phone read 10:24 a.m. - so much for getting up early and going to study at the library. 
You’d have rather stayed curled up under your blankets and slept the rest of your hangover off, but some rustling noises from the kitchen (and an intense need to pee) forced you out of the comfort of your bed. You stumbled into the kitchen to find Jihoon placing a pancake atop an already dangerously high stack. 
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he greeted you, glancing at you with a smirk on his face as you made your way towards him. You stood behind him and rested your forehead at the base of his neck, as if catching a few last seconds of sleep. 
The feeling of your hair against his skin sent shivers down his spine and he hoped his shaky intake of breath had gone unnoticed by you. His pancake was ready and he had to put it on the plate behind him, but as if a cat had fallen asleep in his lap, he couldn’t get himself to move. This was a moment he wanted to cherish - although you never particularly kept your distance from him, he was still always greedy for more of your touch.
“Hey, Hoonie,” you replied in a groggy voice. “Thank you for breakfast,” you said, moving to rest your lower back against the counter next to the stove. He missed you immediately. “And sorry for being a nuisance last night.”
Jihoon smiled at you as he turned to place the pancake on the stack. Then he leaned in slightly and you made sure not to breathe through your mouth so he wouldn’t smell your morning breath. 
“You always apologize, and yet who’s dragging you home every single weekend?” he asked with an amused grin that let you know he wasn’t actually bothered by it.
He turned back to his pan and ladled more batter into it, forming a perfectly circular pancake. “Sorry,” you repeated guiltily.
He shook his head. “I’d rather be there and make sure you get home safe. And it’s not like I don’t have fun at those parties.” 
A small smile on your lips, you nodded and let his words assuage your guilt. “I’ll make coffee as a token of my gratitude.”
“How kind of you,” Jihoon teased, beaming. 
No matter how many times Jihoon reassured you, you still felt bad that he thought it his obligation to do those things for you.
Although you’d only grown closer at the beginning of your first year of university, now six months ago, you and Jihoon had known each other since you were thirteen, and he fourteen. You still remembered his braces, wide boba eyes and round cheeks from your teenage years - when you saw him again five years later, you couldn’t deny your surprise at his much… manlier appearance. Sharper jaw, broader shoulders, taller figure, deeper voice - it was hard to recognize the Jihoon you’d known and the Jihoon in front of you as the same person.
His parents’ job made their family move around a lot - your town had been their fifth home since Jihoon’s birth already. The year and a half they stayed went by far too quickly, and before you knew it, you already had to say goodbye. Jihoon and Junkyu had grown really close in that year, and since you were always in your older brother’s business at that time, you’d developed a liking for your brother’s best friend, too. You liked the way he’d ruffle your hair whenever he came over to your house, the way he remembered strawberry milk was your favorite, and the way he’d wave at you in the school hallways, effectively making you cooler than all of your friends for knowing someone who was in the year above. At the time, you hadn’t known if what you felt for him could be described as a crush - all you knew was that for the rest of high school, you missed him. 
When you found out that he had not only come back to South Korea to study, but that he was attending the university of your dreams, you couldn't have been more excited. But you chalked it up to the relief of knowing someone in an otherwise unfamiliar place.
Jihoon had been even more welcoming than you’d expected. He had come to get you at the airport with a big, colorful Welcome Y/N banner, helped you move into your dorm and treated you to a meal the night you arrived in town. Over the following weeks, he’d introduced you to his friends, showed you around campus, and kept inviting you out “so you would know where the good spots were.”
Thanks to him, settling in had been a much less stressful and emotionally exhausting process than you’d expected. But no matter how grateful you were, you couldn’t help but wonder why he was going to these lengths to welcome you. 
Somewhere in the town center, there was a square that was extremely popular among skaters for a reason beyond your understanding. But at almost any time of the day and night, you could find people practicing their skating there. You’d just left a bar nearby with Minjeong, Jihoon and his friends, and to an intoxicated you, skating, something you had never attempted before, seemed like the thing to try out right then and there. You ran up to the first skater you found and asked him if he could show you how to ride.
Minjeong had run after you, finding a skater of her own while Jihoon’s friends either watched or talked about something else amongst themselves. Of course, the inevitable happened, and as soon as the skater let you try skating on your own, you’d fallen on your hands and knees. In a flash, Jihoon had been by your side, frantically asking if you were okay and making you show him your palms. They were only grazed, and one of your knees was bleeding very faintly, but Jihoon acted like you’d just broken something. He got you to get on his back so he could carry you to the nearest pharmacy, leaving his friends and Minjeong to wonder what the hell was going on. You tried telling him you were okay and could walk on your own just fine, but he wouldn’t listen. 
He’d sat you on the curb in front of the all-night pharmacy and asked you to wait as he got disinfectant and bandages. You watched his face closely as he rubbed medical alcohol on your wounds. A crease had plagued his eyebrows ever since you fell, and he would not stop mumbling something about you needing to be more careful and you’re lucky you didn’t get hurt badly.
You hadn’t realized you were crying until one of your tears fell on Jihoon’s hand, hot against his skin, and he looked up at you with worry, any of his previous frustration with you wiped from his expression.
��Y/N? Why are you crying?” he’d asked, voice soft, as if trying not to scare you.
You sniffled. “Why are you so nice to me?”
His eyes softened and a small smile grew on his lips. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
You couldn’t bring yourself to mirror his smile, and the more you cried, the sadder you felt. Inexplicably, your tears just fell and fell and fell. Under the bright white lights of the pharmacy, in the cold of a particularly chilly September night, Jihoon wrapped an arm around you and let you cry on his shoulder. He didn’t ask any further questions, just waited for you to calm down as he rubbed a hand up and down your back and whispered in your ear that it was okay.
When you thought back on it now, you knew that it had just been the alcohol making you unreasonably emotional - you weren’t actually sad about Jihoon looking after you, if anything, it made you happy. But once you’d started crying, you couldn’t stop.
“I’m just looking out for you,” he’d said once your sniffling had somewhat lessened. You’d leaned back to look at him. 
“But why?” you’d whined.
Your frown had deepened as his smile had widened. “Because we’re friends.”
“Is that it?” 
“Well, Junkyu also asked me to look after you,” he admitted sheepishly. 
You gasped in affront. “He what?!”
“Y/N-”
“So he’s been forcing you to do all of this?” you asked, voice breaking at the end. Your anger had lasted two seconds - you’d gone back to being sad at the thought of Jihoon only being nice to you because your stupid big brother had asked him to.
“No, no, it’s not like that, listen to me-”
“I can’t believe the two of you! I’m not a child-”
“Nobody said you were-”
“So you don’t actually even care-”
“I do!” Jihoon had exclaimed, louder than you’d expected, and it shut you up. “I do,” he repeated, voice softer. His hands were still on your upper arms, and he leaned in closer. “You’re his little sister. Of course he was worried about you leaving home. He just asked me to make sure you don’t get into too much trouble,” he explained, lightly tapping the tip of your nose with his finger. 
He sighed, smiling as he watched you try to keep an upset expression on your face. He took the bandages out of the pack he’d just bought and stuck them with caution on your wounds. “But I wouldn’t be doing all of this if I didn’t care, Y/N.” When your eyes met again, you hadn’t known what to make of the look in his. “I missed you, you know.”
Just like that, the ducts behind your eyes filled up again, and large, hot tears streamed down your face as you rested your forehead against Jihoon’s shoulders again. He chuckled at your dramatics but placed a reassuring hand against your hair. “I missed you, too,” you replied between broken sobs.
He’d texted his friends to take Minjeong with them and go on without the two of you, then carried you back to his apartment, which was thankfully only a five-minute walk away. 
Ever since that night, you and Jihoon had been inseparable. He continued checking on you consistently, bringing you food and coffee without you even asking and, of course, getting you home safe from nights out. 
You were thankful to have a friend like him.
“Pancakes?!” your flatmate exclaimed as soon as she walked through the door, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“Hey, Minjeong,” you and Jihoon greeted in unison. 
She was wearing her clothes from last night and her hair was a mess, but she had a bright expression on her face (despite the faint mascara stains underneath her eyes). You narrowed your eyes at her but she made a beeline for the food, completely ignoring you.
“Hot,” she mumbled as she held a pancake between her fingers, but threw a piece in her mouth anyway. “You’re so lucky to have a boyfriend like him, Y/N,” she said around her food.
“Isn’t she?” Jihoon replied before you could say anything.
You rolled your eyes at the pair in front of you and poured a cup of coffee for Minjeong. She referred to Jihoon as your boyfriend so often that you didn’t bother to correct her anymore. “Not my boyfriend. And even so, he’s more like a bodyguard than anything.”
“Being a bodyguard is just one of the many duties of being a boyfriend,” Minjeong declared, easily ignoring you. “Don’t you agree, Jihoon?”
He nodded, a serious look on his face. “Absolutely. I take what I do very seriously.” When his eyes found yours, he shot you a wink. Your frown deepened. 
“Anyway, care to share why you’re coming home so late?”
A blush creeped on Minjeong’s cheeks. “Well, Yoshi’s place is quite a ways from here…” she murmured, looking down at her half-eaten pancake. 
“Called it!” you yelled, just as Jihoon let out a loud “no” of shock and defeat.
“Next takeaway is on you,” you told Jihoon with a proud smile. In a mature response, he stuck his tongue out at you.
Minjeong frowned at both of you. “You guys bet on this?” she asked, vexed. Jihoon exchanged a look, glanced back at her, and shrugged. “Not cool. I didn’t even know something would happen with him. How did you guess?”
You smiled. “You always go for the cute ones.”
She hummed in agreement, her expression almost a pained one. “He’s just the cutest little thing ever, I couldn’t help myself.” She took a sip of her coffee, cringing at the bitter taste before getting up to fetch sugar and milk.
You sighed at your friend. “You’re gonna break that poor boy’s heart.” You knew Minjeong wasn’t to blame for the boys that got attached to her when she made it clear she wasn’t looking for a relationship - but if it happened to Yoshi, you’d feel guilty. You’d met him in a tutorial for one of your Digital Media courses and he seemed like he wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’d invited you to do pres at his place, and you’d dragged Minjeong and Jihoon along, so they’d met through you. In a way, if Yoshi fell for Minjeong and got hurt, it’d be your fault.
“I told him I didn’t want anything serious,” she said, pouring as much milk as there was coffee in her mug.
“He doesn’t seem like the type to do casual stuff,” Jihoon chimed in as he placed the last pancake on top of the stack. But it was one pancake too many, and the whole stack fell over. Jihoon wasn’t rattled - he placed a few on his plate then rebuilt the stack.
Minjeong ate her last bite of pancake and got up from the stool. “Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
“We? This is your problem, babe,” you said.
Minjeong smiled at you, eyes crinkling as she pressed a wet kiss to your cheek. You were sure there was some pancake left on her lips. “You’re such a good friend, Y/N,” she said, making you laugh. Of course you’d help Minjeong if she needed - but you were starting to feel bad for all the hearts she kept breaking. “I’m going back to bed,” she announced. Then, she put her hand next to her mouth as if telling you a secret, but spoke loud enough for Jihoon to hear anyway: “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, is all I’ll say.”
Jihoon choked on his food and you let out a groan of disgust, but you both burst into laughter anyway. “I want details later!” you called out.
“You won’t be disappointed,” she said between giggles as she closed her bedroom door behind her. 
Just then, your phone buzzed with an incoming video call, Junkyu’s face taking up your screen. “Hey, ugly face,” you greeted, propping your phone up against the milk bottle.
“Hey, stink.”
“Hey, Kyu!” Jihoon called out and took a seat close next to you - you knew he was just trying to squeeze into frame, but the sudden proximity still made your breath catch in your throat for a second.
Your brother’s eyes narrowed. “What are the two of you doing together on a Sunday morning?”
You looked at Jihoon, then back at your screen. “Is there something wrong with Sunday mornings?”
“Not inherently, no…” your brother conceded. “But still.”
You rolled your eyes at him and his meaningless suspiciousness. “We just went to a party together last night and he crashed here afterwards.”
“She was so wasted I had to bring her home. And I made pancakes this morning.”
“Y/N, if you don’t marry this guy, I will,” Junkyu said with all the seriousness in the world, and Jihoon made a kissy face at him.
“What’s up with everyone today?” you sighed. “I’m going to shower. You two have fun.” You knew your brother probably didn’t have much to tell you anyway - he liked calling you for no other reason than to bother you. 
“Oh, we will,” Jihoon said with a suggestive tone, and you made a vomiting noise before disappearing into the bathroom. 
“When I told you to look after her, I just meant to make sure she doesn’t drink too much or get involved with weirdos. I didn’t mean to make her pancakes on Sunday mornings,” Junkyu teased, a knowing smile on his face. 
Jihoon looked down at his place, a small smile growing on his lips as well. “I know, but I like doing those things for her.”
Junkyu let out an odd noise, half out of disgust and half out of annoyance. “I can’t believe you. Just ask her out, already.”
“So you don’t like me at her place on a Sunday morning, but you want me to ask her out?”
Junkyu rolled his eyes (Jihoon thought this was a family trait, at this point). “I’m trying to help you out here, buddy. I know she’s my little sister, but you’re also my best friend,” he started, ignoring Jihoon’s aww, “and I don’t know how much longer I can stand you being in love with her but not making a move.” He paused to sigh. “I know you’re a good guy, so you have my approval, or whatever.”
Jihoon smiled somewhat sadly, picking at his food with his fork. “I appreciate it, Kyu, but I really don’t think she feels the same way.”
“How do you know that? Have you asked her?” Junkyu asked, not even trying to hide his impatience.
“No, but-”
“Do I need to do it for you? Do you want to hide behind my back while I tell my little sister, hey, my friend here has something he wants to tell you? Hey, my friend thinks you’re pretty, do you want to talk to him? Are you a big baby who can’t do anything, Park Jihoon?”
“No, I just-”
“You know, if this were a k-drama and you were the main lead, everybody would get Second Lead Syndrome. Me included. You suck.”
“Supportive as ever, Kyu,” Jihoon said, sighing.
“If you don’t ask her, you’re a bitch. I’m hanging up now,” Junkyu said before Jihoon could get another word in. He just shook his head, chuckling as he dug into his pancakes again.
The two of them had had this conversation about a thousand times, and they always came to the same conclusion: Junkyu thought Jihoon should confess his feelings to you, and Jihoon dismissed the idea, knowing he’d never have the guts to do it. To him, making jokes about being your boyfriend and relentlessly flirting with you was sign enough of his affection for you - you just needed to figure out that he wasn’t actually kidding at all. He was already doing half of the work for you, really. 
An hour later, the two of you were sitting on the fifth floor of the library, where nobody ever dared to venture because of its dark corners and maze-like rows of bookshelves. It creeped Jihoon out, but it was your favorite place to study, so on days he couldn’t convince you to go to a nicer spot, he sucked it up and followed you to the table you liked by a window that overlooked the park next to the campus. The window let some light in, but to get there, you had to go through dim hallways that looked like they hadn’t seen a human soul in years. Jihoon didn’t know how you’d found out about it in the first place. It felt like something a fourth-year would keep as a secret, not something a first-year would have discovered in her first months of attending uni.
As he observed your sleeping figure, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel slightly annoyed. You’d gotten about twenty minutes of work done before resting your head atop your crossed arms, claiming you would just take a “power nap.” He couldn’t believe you’d emotionally manipulated him (pouted up at him and gave him puppy eyes - with that look on your face, Jihoon would agree to murdering someone for you) into going to this creepy part of the library only to sleep almost immediately after getting there. 
He bent down onto his arms, mirroring your position, and let himself have this moment. Even though he saw you all the time, it wasn’t often that he could shamelessly stare at you and get away with it.
He watched as your shoulders rose and fell to the consistent rhythm of your breathing, as the sunlight pouring in from the window made your eyelashes cast shadows against your cheeks. You looked so peaceful that any trace of his irritation towards you vanished. It wasn’t like he could ever really be mad at you.
Jihoon loved how little you had changed in the years you’d been apart. Of course, you’d grown into your features and didn’t quite look like the thirteen-year-old version of you he’d known, but still, you had the same face and same habits he’d fallen in love with in the first place. 
He still remembered the way his heart had swelled when he’d found your face amongst the crowd at the airport, how his whole body had buzzed with excitement at the idea of finally seeing you again after all these years. When you’d received your admission email from your university, the first thing Junkyu had told Jihoon was that he’d better look after you. It wasn’t like he didn’t think you couldn’t handle yourself, but it reassured him, knowing someone he trusted so much would be there to help you adjust to university life, since he couldn’t do it himself. 
Jihoon had taken this seriously. Junkyu hadn’t given him any sort of instructions - the picking you up at the airport, introducing you to his friends, making sure you were well-fed and well-caffeinated, that was all him. At first, he tried convincing himself that he was doing this in an old friend, big brother fashion - he knew how close you and Junkyu were, so he fancied himself a sort of Junkyu 2.0 for you to rely on. 
It had been when he saw your red, puffy eyes, trembling lips and tear-stained cheeks that he realized his old feelings had resurfaced. After all, don’t they say you never really forget your first love?
Truth be told, that whole night had been a dead giveaway. From the moment you met up at the bar to his little nurse moment in front of the pharmacy, his heart had not stopped racing. He kept checking on you, making sure you were having fun and handling your alcohol, and stuck by your side the whole time, like a bee to a flower. 
He remembered standing arms crossed over his chest and observing you with narrowed eyes as you tried out skating. He was telling himself he was just watching in case you got hurt, but he couldn’t ignore the way his stomach twisted with a hot, unpleasant emotion as the skater guided you, hands on your waist. He didn’t like that you held that stranger by his shoulders, relying on him and not Jihoon for support, or that you laughed together like you’d been friends for years. Jihoon was your long-time friend, not this random long-haired, baggy-shirted, vans-wearing loser skater that probably had a name like Mark or something.
When you’d fallen from that skateboard, his heart had dropped in his stomach. He’d been sick with worry that you’d gotten badly hurt, and even upon seeing your barely-grazed palms and knees, he hadn’t been reassured. 
Seeing you cry had made him panic like crazy. He tried his best to comfort you, but had no idea whether he was doing a good job. For days after that night, he’d replayed the conversation the two of you had under the lights of the pharmacy. 
“Why are you so nice to me?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m just looking out for you.”
“But why?”
“Because we’re friends.”
“Is that it?” 
Jihoon hadn’t known whether you meant, is that the only reason, or, are we only friends? But he’d thought the second question was wishful thinking on his part. So he told you about the promise he’d made to Junkyu, and that had somehow made you even more upset. Even though he hadn’t said it outright, he’d thought he had made it clear that he wasn’t only doing this because Junkyu had told him to - he also wanted to be there for you. He did care, more than he wanted to admit. 
Over time, his feelings for you had grown far bigger than simple teenage nostalgia - he loved your present self impossibly more than fourteen-year-old Jihoon had loved thirteen-year-old you. He thought he made it obvious - he always made sure to compliment you, remembered your coffee order and favorite dishes from your favorite restaurants, rushed to your side whenever you needed him, and did everything he could think of to support you. Sure, he relentlessly teased you as well, but that was just Jihoon.
If you noticed him, you didn’t show it. He wasn’t sure whether you genuinely didn’t know he wanted you as more than a friend or were playing dumb, but he knew you saw him as something like a second older brother. But Jihoon had come to terms with that - he’d rather be in your life as a friend than not at all.
This was why he was grateful for moments like these, when he could just look at you without you knowing. 
After five minutes, Jihoon quietly got up and bravely made his way through the dark hallways and back outside to get you a drink - in case you woke up grumpy from your nap, he knew a matcha latte would appease you. He almost got lost on his way back, but when he found your table again, you were still sleeping. He couldn’t help himself - before rousing you, he snapped a quick picture of your sleeping face, making sure to get the drool pooling at the corner of your lips in frame. The photo went into his Y/N folder, full of pictures and videos he’d both secretly and not-so-secretly taken of you, which, no, wasn’t creepy at all, thank you very much.
When he pressed one drink to your cheek and the other to your forehead, you woke up with a gasp, then immediately winced at the pain in the side of your neck from the uncomfortable sleeping position.
“I wasn’t sure whether you’d want a hot one or an iced one, so I just got both.”
“Ooh, iced, please,” you said. “Thanks, Hoonie.” But before you could grab the drink, he snatched it away.
“No drinking until you get at least one thing done,” he said, a satisfied smirk on his lips.
You frowned. “But the ice will melt and it’ll taste all watery.”
Jihoon didn’t want to give in so easily. 
“Hm?” you hummed, tilting your head at him.
Jihoon gave in, handing you your drink with a tut. Seeing your excited grin and hearing your sigh of contentment after taking a sip made it worth it. 
About two (surprisingly productive) hours later, your stomach started demanding nourishment, and who were you to deny it? Your hangover was strong that day, and even the pancakes and coffee hadn’t completely rid your mouth of its sour taste. You needed something salty and greasy, so you pitched going to the fried chicken place a few blocks down to Jihoon, who agreed immediately.
On the way there, you tried to recollect some moments from the party yesterday, but quickly realized that not much was coming to mind. Pre-drinks at Yoshi’s were clear in your head, and so was walking to the other party - but the better part of your memories after that were fuzzy or non-existent. 
“Hoonie?” you suddenly asked.
“Hm?”
“Did I do anything embarrassing last night?”
Jihoon chuckled. “Not more than usual.”
You groaned and pushed his shoulder, making him laugh even more. “I mean, you just kinda danced like crazy and talked to absolutely anyone. At some point you were gone for like twenty-five minutes, and I found you in the bathroom taking selfies with girls I’d never seen before in my life.”
You pulled out your phone and checked your gallery - indeed, there were about fifty pictures of you and some random girls. “Who are they?” you asked, more to yourself than to Jihoon, in disbelief at how comfortable last-night-you looked with these strangers. “They seem nice enough, I guess.” You laughed with Jihoon before sighing. “Well, that’s not too bad. I’ve done worse things.”
Jihoon made a face as if to say, Yeah, I know, and you rolled your eyes at him. You returned your gaze to the path in front of you, but if you’d kept on looking at Jihoon, you’d have noticed the smirk growing on his lips as a joke formed in his head. After some time, with a shit-eating grin on his face, he broke the silence. “Oh, well, there was also that moment when you confessed your undying love for me, tears streaming down your face, begging on your knees, all the works. That was pretty embarrassing. But I get it.”
It was so ridiculous that you couldn’t help yourself from laughing as you slapped his shoulder. “You wish,” you said between giggles.
I do wish, he immediately thought, but kept it to himself. He laughed instead and could only hope his real thoughts weren’t so obvious. 
--
Two things happened in the fried chicken shop restaurant.
Well, three, if you counted their promotion on their chicken rice cake coleslaw menu, which was your favorite and which Jihoon always chided you for ordering (“Anyone who likes coleslaw is not human”), but in the grand scheme of things, that wasn’t so important.
First, your mom called. Now, this wasn’t anything huge in itself, but it was Jihoon’s behavior that got to you.
You had gotten maybe five words before he snatched the phone from you and lifted it to his ear. “Hi, Mrs Kim!”
You heard a faint but enthusiastic “Hi, Jihoon!” on the other side of the line. They made small talk for a bit, and you couldn’t believe your mom could have forgotten about her only daughter so quickly. You’d dived back into your fried chicken, pretending you didn’t care about whatever it was they were talking so energetically about, until you heard your name on the other end.
Your and Jihoon’s eyes met. A mischievous smile spread across his lips and your gaze hardened. “Yes, well, you know her, she’s a bit of a nuisance, but I’m keeping her out of trouble and all that. I saved her from joining a cult the other day,” he said, and you rolled your eyes at him.
“Oh dear!” you heard your mother exclaim.
“You didn’t save me from anything, I knew what that woman was up to.”
You’d been waiting for Jihoon outside of the movie theater when an older woman approached you. She seemed friendly enough, and you thought she was just a lonely grandma in need of a nice discussion - which it was at first, until it veered towards religion. Next thing you knew, she was telling you stories about the upcoming end of the world and how we had to beg for salvation. You didn’t believe any of it, but you found it captivating, so you stood there listening to her and egging her on until Jihoon showed up and forced you out of there. You thought it’d have been funny if he’d listened along, but knowing Jihoon, a small part of him might have actually believed her and started freaking out.
“I didn’t know you and my mom were so chummy,” you said when the phone call was over. She hadn’t even asked to talk to you again.
“Your mom’s awesome. I can’t believe such a lovely woman gave birth to two gremlins like you and Junkyu. Are you sure you’re not adopted?”
It had seemed like nothing at the time, but when you played the scene over again in your mind that night as you lay in bed, the fact that Jihoon got along with your family filled your heart with an unexpected warmth. It was almost like he was part of the family himself - not in a third child way, but more in a if you brought him home to your family, he’d fit right in, a thought that had made you panic as soon as it’d appeared in your mind. Because why were you thinking of bringing Jihoon home? Why did it make you so happy, knowing he’d be welcomed with open arms?
You shook your head against your pillow, hoping it’d make those thoughts vanish. You reassured yourself by telling yourself that you’d be just as happy bringing a friend like Minjeong home, and that you were sure she’d get along just fine with your brothers and parents. 
The other sign had been much more straightforward. You weren’t afraid to eat messily in front of Jihoon, so some honey barbecue sauce had spread over the corner of your lips as you wolfed down one of the wings. As soon as Jihoon started to lean in across the table, you knew you were in trouble.
Not only did he wipe the sauce off your lips with his thumb, but he licked it off of his finger, never breaking eye contact throughout the whole ordeal. Your whole body tensed and you swear you stopped breathing for a second. 
It only really lasted maybe five seconds, but felt like hours to you. You glared at him for a bit before diving back into your chicken, hoping you didn’t look as flustered as you felt. But Jihoon and his stupid, proud smirk probably knew what he’d done to you. As if that wasn’t enough already, he even had the audacity to whisper cute under his breath. Your eyes snapped back up to his face, but he just smiled and nodded towards your food, telling you to keep eating. 
Over the next week, the word cute refused to leave your mind. You kept replaying that scene over and over - the feeling of Jihoon’s thumb on your lips, the sight of his own lips around his thumb, his gaze through it all. It wasn’t the first time such thoughts of Jihoon plagued you - once, he’d guided you through a crowded club with a hand on your lower back and the way the warmth of his hand against you had made you feel prompted you to ignore him for the rest of the night. Another time, he’d kissed you on the forehead after dropping you off at your apartment and you hadn’t been able to look him in the eyes for the following week. 
You took the small but meaningful events of that day as your second sign of your new odd feelings directed towards your best friend, feelings that you didn’t know how to name just yet.
--
Crazy rich Yoon Jaehyuk was having a pool party at his house, and basically everyone was invited. If you knew about the party, you could go - all Jaehyuk had to do was to tell maybe ten people and let them spread the word. As his partner for an English Linguistics class you had together that semester, you were one of those privileged people who’d known firsthand about the event and had made sure to tell everyone you knew to come. You shouldn’t have been so surprised to find what must’ve already been a hundred people on the front lawn, inside the house and around the pool when you showed up with Jihoon and the rest of your friends there.
Coincidentally, this was when the third sign occurred. Third time’s a charm, as they say, and the events of that night and those following cemented your growing hunch that something really was up.
Pre-drinks at yours and Minjeong’s place had already taken quite a toll on you. Jaehyuk lived at the edge of town, quite a ways from your flat, but the vodka cranberry you’d snuck in on the bus prevented you from sobering up during the long ride. When your group arrived at the party, both you and Minjeong were ready to dance. But before you could rush to wherever the dancefloor was, Jihoon caught you by the wrist, effectively stopping you in your tracks. Your eyes went from his fingers around your wrist to his smiling face, a surprised look on your own. 
“We’re gonna head directly to the pool. Don’t drink too much, okay?”
Your lips blossomed with a smile. Typical Jihoon. “Okay.”
The alcohol probably had something to do with it, but a surge of affection for your friend hit you and you stood on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek before taking Minjeong’s hand in yours and making a beeline in the direction of the music.
I Gotta Feeling by the Black Eyed Peas was calling your name and you didn’t think to turn around to look at Jihoon, so you missed the way he watched your figure retreating into the mass of drunk students as he tried to commit the warmth of your lips against his cheek to memory.
You and Minjeong made your way to the center of the crowd, shrieking with drunken excitement when you found a group of girls from one of your shared classes there and exchanging very brief pleasantries before falling into the rhythm of one of your all-time favorite party songs. In your humble opinion, no one understood partying like The Black Eyed Peas did.
You only leave the dancefloor on one occasion, which is to take a round of vodka shots with your new best friends for the night - Jihoon had said not to drink too much, not not at all. One of the girls (Yunjin, you thought, but she showed up to class so seldom you weren’t sure) had a trick of pouring a lick of strawberry syrup before the alcohol, so that you wouldn’t be hit with the nail polish remover aftertaste of vodka. You were delighted to find it worked (almost) like magic.
It’s about an hour later when you and Minjeong reach the pool, not quite sober but more so than when you’d arrived at the party. For a pool party, there were definitely less people there than inside the house, maybe due to the fact that it was the end of February and most people didn’t want to risk getting hypothermia from the temperature difference between the heated pool and the cold outside. 
The relatively small number of people makes it easy to spot Jihoon, in nothing but his swimming trunks and a towel around his shoulders, sitting on a longchair a dozen or so meters away from you. Something about half-naked Jihoon, you’re not sure what, makes you want to walk over to him and do… you’re not sure what, but Minjeong frantically slapping your arm and whispering your name stops you from doing whatever it was you wanted to do. 
“Y/N! Y/N! Yoshi is right there,” she whisper-yelled. Indeed, Yoshi was in the pool, not far from where you stood, playing with his friends you recognized from pre-drinks at his place the other day. Minjeong’s face was redder than you’d ever seen it, and you recalled a conversation you’d had earlier that day.
“Will Yoshi be there?” Minjeong had asked, trying to sound innocent.
You’d looked at your flatmate with an incredulous look on your face. “Yes, he’ll be there, you slut. I thought you never went for a second time?”
She’d shrugged, an unusually shy smile playing on her lips as she looked down at her feet. “I don’t know, we’ll see.”
This was very unlike Minjeong - in your six months of knowing each other, it was the first time you ever saw her even consider getting with someone a second time. You didn’t know what sort of spell this Yoshi guy had cast on your friend, but it must’ve been very effective. 
“Go talk to him,” you simply said.
“What?! No way, I can’t- Oh my God, he’s looking at us,” she said, words rushing out of her mouth, “he’s looking right at us, isn’t he?”
You just laughed at your friend and waved at Yoshi who was already waddling towards your edge of the pool. “Hey, Yoshi!” you called excitedly. At the sound of your voice, Jihoon’s head snapped towards you. He wasted no time in yelling your name, motioning for you to come over, so you gestured back that you’d be there in a minute. 
“Hey, Y/N!” Yoshi called back with the same tone. “Hey, Minjeong,” he added, tone somewhat quiet, but the blush that grew on his cheeks told you you weren’t the one he was most happy to see. 
“Hey, Yoshi,” she said so quietly, you weren’t sure the boy could even hear her.
“Nice to see you guys here,” he said, talking to you but glancing nervously at Minjeong. 
“You too!” you replied, and before he could add anything, you placed a hand on your friend’s shoulder. “Well, I’m sure the two of you have a lot to talk about. See you later!”
You grinned innocently at Minjeong as she called your name, eyes wide in panic. She was a big girl, and Yoshi was clearly into her - she could handle herself. Jihoon eyed you amusedly as you made your way towards him.
“Are you setting them up?” he asked when you were within earshot of him.
“I’d be a bad friend if I didn’t at least try. I’ve never seen Minjeong blush over a guy, so this must be serious.”
A few of Jihoon’s friends were hanging out next to him, people that you knew from the many parties you attended together but that you rarely saw outside of drinking contexts. You waved at them before sitting on the deckchair next to Jihoon’s. He pivoted in his seat to face you, seemingly not minding that he’d just turned his back to his friends, then scooched his chair closer to yours so that your knees touched. You rested your palms next to your thighs and kept your gaze down. Something about Jihoon kept you from meeting his eyes, tonight. Maybe it was the half-nakedness.
Jihoon eyed you for a little bit, wondering what was making you so unusually quiet, before looking behind his shoulder to check whether Minjeong had been able to make progress on her own.
“Looks like it’s going well,” he assessed.
You followed his gaze to find Minjeong sitting at the edge of the pool and kicking her legs in the water while Yoshi stood next to her, water up to his belly button. You smiled as they giggled and splashed each other - it was going well, indeed. 
“Have you been in the pool yet?” you asked, shifting your gaze to the party-goers playing in the water. The echoes of people talking and water splashing were quite loud, but Jihoon was so close that you didn’t need to raise your voice too much. 
“No, I just took my shirt off for the hell of it.” 
You had meant to bring your eyes up to his face, you really had - but somewhere on the way, they stopped on his abs, and got stuck there. It was probably a full five seconds before you could look away from the well-defined muscles on his stomach and finally meet his eyes. He didn’t need to say anything - the smirk playing on his lips and the slight surprise in the raise of his brows were enough to tell you he had not missed your stare. 
You looked back to the pool, eyebrows slightly creased in shame at having been so obvious. Thankfully, you had brought a drink with you and took a swig of it there. “I wouldn’t put it past you.”
You were trying to ignore the way Jihoon’s eyes burned into the side of your face, the way they followed your every move, but with each passing second, you felt more conscious of them. Not unlike one would try to escape a wasp, you thought that going into the pool might tear Jihoon’s eyes away from you at least for a little bit. It’s not that his gaze made you uncomfortable, like that of a random old man in the street would, but it definitely made you feel… things. Things that you didn’t necessarily want to dive into. 
The problem was that, to go into the pool, you’d need to get into your swimsuit. You’d thought ahead and had come already clad into your bikini underneath your clothes, a black, strapless tube dress that was easy to take off so you could jump into the pool at any time. But getting rid of that dress right in front of Jihoon and his watchful eyes was more nerve-wracking than you’d imagined. 
You downed the rest of your cup for some liquid courage and shot up from your seat, releasing a deep breath as you did so. You thought it was better to just get it over with than make it last any longer than it needed to. Jihoon’s eyes glinted with amusement as they followed your every move.
“Let’s go back in.” 
Your plan had been to lift your dress off of your body and head straight to the pool, but Jihoon’s gaze made you freeze in place after stripping. You couldn’t quite describe it as lustful, or as hungry, because there was a hint of surprise there that softened it. It was like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing and loving it at the same time, if the slowly growing smirk on his lips was anything to go by. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, a fire that made your knees turn to jelly and that rendered you close to breathless.
You let his curious eyes travel your body for a few seconds before clearing your throat. “Do you want a picture or something?” you asked ironically, hoping your voice didn’t sound as shaky as you felt.
His smirk only widened. “No need. The real thing is so much better.”
You tried not to cower under his shameless gaze, instead stood up straighter and stared right back at him. “My eyes are up here, you know.”
“I know,” he replied, but his eyes stayed trained on your body. You watched as they slowly made their way up your legs, took in your stomach and waist, then paused on your chest, which was quickly falling and rising with your shallow breathing. It was only when you scoffed and crossed your arms that he looked at your face.
Still that lopsided smirk on his lips, he stood up and languidly made his way towards you. He came so close that you had to slightly crane your neck to meet his gaze.
Your heart raced as he let a few seconds of silence stretch between the two of you, keeping his eyes locked in yours. “Nice eyes,” he murmured after a pause, the sudden depth of his voice sending a shiver down your spine.
After six months of seeing him almost every day, one would think Jihoon’s flirty personality would not have such an effect on you anymore. And most of the time, it didn’t - even back in the day, he was already fond of teasing you, so usually, him telling you how pretty you looked, patting your head or him tucking stray strands of hairs behind your ear went somewhat unnoticed by you. Or at least, it was easier not to freak out over “small” things like these.
But this was one of the times when you thought he was really pushing it, and you lost the ability to even eye-roll, which was your usual defense against his flirting attacks. You hated to admit, but you just couldn’t pretend it didn’t have an effect on you. You hated it because you knew he was just flirting as a joke, not because he was actually interested or anything of the sort, and you felt stupid that it still did something to you - although you sometimes doubted whether he really was doing it just for fun. You wanted to think he was acting the way he was on purpose, to get a reaction out of you. It’d make you feel less of a fool.
Before you’d even had time to understand the meaning behind his words, he’d already walked away from you and to the pool. When your senses had come back and you spun around, he was already inside the water. He looked like a cute wet puppy with his hair sticking out all around his head, especially when he shook it and let droplets of water fall off his hair and splash around him, and you couldn’t believe this was the same man that had essentially called your tits nice just moments prior.
The raging butterflies in your stomach were your third sign.
You must’ve stared long, because after a while, your eyes met again, and a smile reappeared on his face. An actual smile, this time, not a smirk or anything of the sort. As if nothing had just happened - as if it was absolutely natural for your best friend to practically devour you with his eyes like that. 
He waved you over and you noticed Minjeong and Yoshi were with him, seemingly waiting for you as well. When you reached the edge of the pool, someone entered the room with a platter of shots of God knows what, and you immediately reached out for one and downed it. Sambuca, you realized with relief as the sweet liquid burned its way down your throat. That way, if your body kept buzzing the way it had been around Jihoon, you could blame it on the alcohol and nothing else.
Minjeong and Yoshi were already back in their new little world, but Jihoon watched with an amused grin as you measured the temperature of the water with a foot, then, deeming it warm enough, made your way towards your friends. There, the water reached up to your shoulders, and the fact that it got up to just a little bit under Jihoon’s chest only marked your height difference further, which shouldn’t have made you as flustered as it did.
“Didn’t I tell you not to drink too much before going into the water?” Jihoon asked, laughter clear in his voice.
“How about you let me drink as much as I want, and make sure I don’t drown?” you bit back, even though you knew it wasn’t much of a comeback. You had spoken in an irritated tone that, going by the way his smile softened, Jihoon found cute.
“Okay, I will,” he said, and the sweetness in his tone only served to further unnerve you.
If he noticed your annoyance, he didn’t say anything. 
You let yourself be convinced to play a game of chicken fight against Minjeong and Yoshi, which (along with that shot of Sambuca) made your competitive streak kick in and allowed you to, at least momentarily, forget about your irritation towards your friend. The reason behind that irritation was something you didn’t even want to think about.
Somehow, you endured the prickling on your skin as Jihoon kept your thighs tightly pressed around his shoulders with two big hands. Even when he squeezed the flesh there or craned his neck to look up at you with those big, round eyes of his, you managed to not let the way your stomach flipped get to your head. 
You weren’t sure how you won all three rounds of chicken fight, if it was thanks to Jihoon’s devotion to the gym, or yours to the free weekly Sunday morning pilates class your uni gym offers. It might’ve been down to the level of complicity you and Jihoon had built over the months that Yoshi and Minjeong hadn’t reached yet (if that can even be a factor in chicken fight success) - all you know, is that you do, and that even underwater, Jihoon’s hands burn as they snake their way around your waist, and press your body flush to his in a celebratory hug.
Some time later, you sit at the edge of the pool by yourself, having been deserted by the two lovebirds who not-so-sneakily snuck away under the pretext of getting some drinks, as well as by Jihoon who was called by some friends to join him back in the pool. You were at the level of tipsiness that made you want to self-introspectively sit on your own and people-watch for a little bit.
Until someone broke your peace.
“Hey, Y/N,” you heard a vaguely familiar voice say. Before you could respond, Kim Sunwoo was sitting next to you, a bit too close in your opinion for your level of acquaintance, clad in black swimming trunks that let the band of his Calvin Klein underwear peek through. 
He wasn’t half bad-looking, you decided in that instant.
“Oh, hi, Sunwoo,” you replied, smiling as you unquestioningly accepted the drink he offered you and thanked him for it. You peered at the orange liquid and decided it was the right color for alcohol before taking a sip. It being orange vodka didn’t come as much of a surprise. “I didn’t know you knew my name,” you admitted.
You recognized Sunwoo’s face from the Introduction to Literary Theory lecture you’d had last semester, and had learned his name when the lecture had to be online due to the professor falling ill, and he was one of the few brave students who had turned his camera on. With a face like his, you understood where the confidence came from.
Then, one night out on the town with Minjeong and other friends, you’d run into him at the counter of a bar, and had exchanged a few (flirty, if you recalled correctly) words, but not your names, hence the slight confusion.
He chuckled and you watched as two deep dimples appeared on his cheeks. “I did my research before coming here. Sadly, no one knew what kind of drink you liked, so I went for something basic and prayed.”
“This is perfect,” you said, laughing.
“To be perfectly honest,” he starts after a slight pause, “I’ve seen you around campus, and we even saw each other at a bar once, didn’t we?” he asks, and grins when you nod. “I felt stupid for never asking for your name, or your number. So when I saw you sitting here, I thought it must be fate that brought me to this party.”
You had barely registered his words, let alone formed any sort of response in your mind when Jihoon suddenly appeared in front of the two of you, placing a hand right next to your thigh on the pool edge. You hadn’t noticed him swimming your way.
“Hey, Sunwoo. I see you’ve met my girlfriend,” Jihoon blatantly lies as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The shock is apparent on Sunwoo’s face, and if it wasn’t for the sweet, convincing smile Jihoon was looking at you with, you might’ve let your surprise show more.
Sunwoo didn’t know Jihoon like you did, so you didn’t know whether he noticed the tightness in his grin, the challenge in his slightly raised eyebrows, or the general way he was holding himself that screamed Leave. But he must’ve noticed something, because it only took him a few seconds to start nodding slowly and rise from his seat.
For some reason, you stayed quiet, letting the word girlfriend and the way it had rolled off Jihoon’s tongue so easily repeat over and over again in your head. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he had said it so convincingly that you almost questioned whether you actually were Jihoon’s girlfriend. Before you could think any more about it, however, Sunwoo broke the increasingly tense silence.
“My bad, man, I didn’t know she was taken. I’ll leave you two to it, then,” he said with a smile, and that was that. 
You watched his retreating figure for a bit, eyebrows creased in confusion, before snapping your head towards Jihoon. Head tilted, he was fixing you with a questioning look, as if to ask, What are you up to?, when he was the one that had just acted strangely.
“What was that all about?” you asked.
Jihoon shrugged. “I chased him away for you. I’ve only heard bad stuff about that guy, like he sleeps with a new girl every weekend and doesn’t treat them right.”
You thought for a second, bottom lip slightly jutting out in concentration. “Well, couldn’t you have told me about his reputation then let me make the decision for myself?”
“I-” Jihoon started but stopped himself. He seemed to mull over your words for a bit, then sighed. “You’re right, I guess I could have, but you’ve been drinking, who knows if you would’ve made the right decision?”
This made you furrow your brows. “So what if I did? Getting drunk and going home with a rando is not unheard of, I would’ve been fine. Just maybe ashamed tomorrow morning.”
A flash of annoyance swept across Jihoon’s features, and your curiosity couldn’t help but be piqued. The two of you had had your fair share of aimless arguments over the months, but he’d never actually gotten cross with you. For some reason, you were suddenly itching to know what angry Jihoon was like.
“I wouldn’t be fine with it, though. I’d hate knowing that I let you go home with a prick like that.”
This wasn’t the first time Jihoon had fended off guys for you during a night out, but to his credit, they weren’t ever guys you wanted to talk to. And, well, admittedly, after learning what he was like, maybe you didn’t want to talk to Sunwoo either, but Jihoon’s protectiveness tonight was bothering you more than it ever had. 
You let a silence stretch between the two of you before speaking again. “You- you can’t just do that, you know,” you declared, not meeting his eyes.
“Do what?”
“Act like you just did. Pretending to be my boyfriend just to get a guy away from me.” Jihoon was just staring at you silently, so you felt compelled to add,  “You’re not actually my boyfriend, you know.”
Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, because his jaw locked and a coldness you had never seen before appeared in his eyes.
“Aren’t I basically?”
That caught you off guard. Where was this coming from? Jihoon had never entertained the idea of being your boyfriend, ever, so why was he suddenly acting like he was? Like he had always been?
And yet, you found yourself toying with the idea of dating Jihoon once more. The one question that pervaded your thoughts was, would things be so different? You’d never had a boyfriend, so you weren’t sure what they did, but you thought it wouldn’t be too far off from how Jihoon treated you now. Keep you safe, bring you food, buy you random keychains or pencils that reminded him of you, text you throughout the day, compliment you. The only difference would be…
Your eyes drifted down to his lips, and you swore you heard a shaky intake of breath coming from the man right in front of you.
The thought had barely crossed your mind that panic rose in your chest. You could not be thinking about kissing Jihoon. You couldn’t think about him being your boyfriend, either. You weren’t sure why, but your sudden heart palpitations at the mere idea told you that you just couldn’t.
“No, you’re not.” You had wanted to speak firmly, but you feared your voice had come out shakier than intended.
To your surprise, Jihoon scoffed. “So if I went off and started dating someone else, it wouldn’t bother you?” he asked in a disbelieving, almost mocking tone.
“No, it wouldn’t,” you answered, and as soon as the words were out, you knew they were a lie. You scrambled to your feet, suddenly wanting to be away from this conversation and the way it made you feel. “I’ll, um, I’ll head back inside.”
You ignored his call of your name and picked up your dress, hastily sliding it back on as you made your way back towards the living room where most of the action was. You quickly found that it was too loud, too hot, too packed in there. You headed back outside through another door that led to a part of the backyard far from the pool, where people sat in small groups around a big fire, either nursing a drink or passing round a joint, the smell of weed heavy in the air. At least it was quiet here.
You walked around some before spotting Jaehyuk, the man of the house himself, sitting on his lonesome on a swing bench in a dark corner of the garden, looking down despondently into a red solo cup. A couple hours into the party, this was the first time you saw him, you realized. It made you wonder how long he’d been sitting out here on his own.
“Hey, Jaehyuk,” you greeted, catching him by surprise. You took a seat next to him, sliding your hands underneath your thighs to keep them warm.
“Oh, hey, Y/N. Nice that you came.” He mustered a smile for you before taking a swig from his cup and cringing at the taste of what must’ve been alcohol.
“What are you doing out here by yourself?” you asked softly. You were used to cheery, smiley Jaehyuk, and even though you weren’t very close, you couldn’t help but be saddened by seeing your friend in such a state.
Jaehyuk sighed deeply. “The girl I planned this party for isn’t here.”
“The girl you… planned… this party for?” you echoed, and he nodded. “You mean this,” you said, gesturing to the house and backyard full to the brim with people, “is all for one girl?”
He sighed and nodded again, taking another sip from his cup. He tutted at the drink, or maybe at himself for drinking it when he knew how awful it tasted. “I wanted an excuse to see her outside of class.” He chuckled. “I realize now that I might have gone slightly overboard.”
“Just a bit,” you laughed along, watching as a group of stoners cheered at their friend who had found marshmallows and sticks God-knows-where. “It’s not even midnight yet, she might still be coming.”
Jaehyuk shrugged. “I’ve stopped hoping. I think I just need to get into the party and forget about it for tonight.”
You smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”
“What about you, what made you escape out here? The music not to your liking?”
“Are you kidding? This is the Danish alternative pop playlist of my dreams,” you said, earning a chuckle from him. “No, I just…” You realized you didn’t even know how to talk about this. What was making you so upset?
“I got into a bit of a… squabble with my friend, if you will. He-”
“Oh, so it’s a he?” Jaehyuk cut in, a knowing smile on his face.
“No- I mean, yes, he is, but it’s not like that, it’s- it’s…”
“It’s?” he egged on.
“Ugh, fine, it might be like that,” you finally admitted, as much to Jaehyuk as to yourself. Your irritation made him laugh.
“It’s okay, it happens.”
“I didn’t think it would happen to me, though.”
“Why not?”
You sighed. “Just ‘cause… him and I, we’ve known each other for such a long time, it feels weird that things would start changing now.”
“How long have you known each other?”
“We met when we were thirteen and fourteen. Then he moved away and we only met again in September last semester.”
“Did you keep in touch?”
“Not so much. I just heard from him through my brother, they’re much closer.”
“So… what I’m hearing is, you’ve known each other a long time, but you’ve only really become friends since September, right?”
“Right,” you echoed dubitatively, wondering where Jaehyuk was going.
“Y/N, that’s just a bit over six months.”
“...So?”
“So, that’s not nearly as long as you make it out to be. It’s not like you’ve been best friends for years and things are suddenly changing. Six months… aren’t that short, I’ll give you that, but I think it’s a reasonable time for people to get closer as friends and then start developing feelings.”
“Feelings?” you immediately echoed, panic evident in your voice.
Jaehyuk let out something like a chuckle, looking at you like he was figuring out whether you were joking or not. “Is that not what this whole thing is about?”
You dropped your gaze down to your thighs, frowning. “Feelings just sound so serious…”
“They can be, but they don’t have to.” After a few seconds of silence, he noticed your upset expression and nudged your shoulder good-naturedly. “What’s worrying you so much?”
“It’s just confusing. I… It’s not like I’ve been totally indifferent towards him up ‘til now, but there’s something about him lately, especially tonight. It makes me actually wonder about… you know. Whether I want him as a friend or not.” You sighed. “And even if I am feeling… feelings, I don’t know how he sees me. I could still be a sort of little sister in his eyes, for all I know.”
“What makes you think that?”
A small smile grew on your lips as you blew air from your nose. “Junkyu - my older brother - tasked him with looking after me when he learned I was going to attend this university with him. So, while I go crazy trying to figure out why he acts the way he acts and why I feel the way I feel, he might just be keeping a promise to my brother.”
“But have you ever seen him as an older brother?”
“No,” you replied immediately. Your surety almost took you aback. “Jihoon is… Jihoon. He’s definitely not Junkyu.”
Jaehyuk smiled. “Then I don’t think he would see you as a little sister, either. The way you act with a sibling and with a friend, potentially someone you like, is very different. I don’t think there’d be room for question if he treated you as a younger sister, you’d just know. Most guys I know are very obvious when they like someone, me included, so if you’re thinking about this so much just because of the way he acts with you… well, you’re probably onto something.”
“You think?” 
“I do.” 
You and Jaehyuk stayed outside chatting for a few more minutes until you decided to go back inside for some warmth and a refill of your empty cups. In the kitchen, you ran into some of your classmates, so you joined in their animated discussion on which version of The Sims is better (Asahi offended everyone by saying the mobile app was the best) instead of going looking for Minjeong and Jihoon like you had intended to.
A few minutes later, as your phone buzzed with six consecutive texts from your roommate, you found out where both of them were. 
minjeong girl do u know how many bedrooms there are in this goddamn house??!!!! yoshi and i are spending the night here xxx ask jaehyuk if he has a room for u or get home w jihoon whos that girl he’s talkin to in the kitchen btw??? love yaa xxxxxoooo text me if u need anything!! i’ll be busy but i’ll keep my phone on ;)
Usually, you’d have rolled your eyes at the exorbitant amount of x’s and the cheesy winky face, but something else had got your attention. Suddenly stepping away mentally from the conversation (which had turned into an interrogation on Asahi’s suspected addiction to mobile games), you looked around the crowded kitchen until your eyes settled on your culprit.
From where you were, you only had a view of his side profile, just as Minjeong had said, Jihoon was talking to a girl, red solo cup in his hand and stupidly attractive smile on his lips. She was leaning against the wall while he stood in front of her, both looking as relaxed as if they had known each other for years. What was up with all that eye contact? What was making them smile so hard?
You hadn’t realized how hard you were staring until Jaehyuk’s voice broke through your thoughts, asking if you were okay. 
“You look like you want to kill someone,” Sumin joked, not knowing she was closer to the truth than she thought.
You tried to laugh it off, saying you were just deeply disturbed by Asahi’s predicament, but you couldn’t keep yourself from glancing back at Jihoon and the girl every thirty seconds. Another girl arrived, and Jihoon shifted to make room for her so that he was now directly facing you. Over the chatter of the kitchen and music booming from the speakers in the living room, you couldn’t hear anything they were saying, but it seemed like Girl #1 was introducing Jihoon to Girl #2, placing a palm on his bicep as she did so. You counted - that hand stayed there for four whole seconds, and when she finally took it off of him, your eyes drifted back to Jihoon’s face.
Jihoon, who was staring right at you. Jihoon, who raised his eyebrows at you as if to say, What about it? while yours were creased in - confusion, anger, you weren’t sure what, but an ugly feeling you weren’t accustomed to. Jihoon, who, you decided, had to know what he was doing, had to know how this was making you feel.
The only thing on your mind was getting out of here and taking Jihoon with you. Without thinking much, you fished your phone out of your sweater pocket, texted Jihoon Let’s go and said bye to your friends, lying that your friend had suddenly asked you to leave.
After a few minutes of waiting by yourself outside in the cold, crouching to maximize body warmth, you started to wonder if Jihoon had decided to not follow you. But when you felt a weight drop on your shoulders, you snapped your head up to find him smiling down at you. 
“Where did you get this?” you asked, meaning the blanket he had given you.
“I stole it from the living room.”
“Jihoon,” you scolded.
“You know the guy right? Just give it back to him this week,” he said, lowering himself down to your level. Similarly to your eye contact in the kitchen, you were still frowning while he kept on smiling. “Not like you to want to leave before one a.m.. Is something the matter?” he asked, and you debated whether he was faking his innocence or not.
For about ten seconds, you tried to stay quiet, not wanting to betray your feelings to him. You glared ahead of you, watching your breath form wisps in the late February night air. 
But then he called your name so softly, it undid all of your resolve. The sound of it made you sigh.
“Who was that you were talking to?” you finally asked, voice barely above a whisper.
“Hm? That was just Shuhua, she’s a Tawainese exchange student from one of my classes. Then she introduced me to her friend Yuqi.”
You nodded slowly, still not meeting Jihoon’s gaze. “I didn’t know there was a Taiwainese exchange student in one of your classes.”
“Y/N?” The unexpected seriousness with which he had called your name forced you to look at him.
“Hm.”
“I have something to tell you.” He must’ve noticed your sudden inability to speak, so he continued, lowering his head to be at eye-level with you. “There’s a Taiwainese exchange student in one of my classes.”
A smile broke through his serious facade and you had to look away to hide your own growing grin. “You’re stupid,” you said, but it only made Jihoon laugh.
“So is that what this is all about? A little bout of jealousy from my Y/N?”
You didn’t know what to focus on - the fact that he had finally put a name to what you were feeling or the face that he had called you his. It made you frown. “I wasn’t jealous,” you said, aware of how unbelievable you sounded.
“No? Then what made you want to leave so suddenly?”
“I- You-” you started, glaring at Jihoon when he snickered. “How come I can’t talk to guys but it’s okay for you to talk to girls?” 
“So you are jealous.”
“No, I just think you’re being unfair. I’m calling you out on your hypocrisy, Hoon. Double standards and all that.” 
Jihoon grinned. Had he known that he’d get such a reaction from you after talking to a friend that happened to be a girl, he’d have done it much earlier. And yet you had never had a problem with any of the girls in his usual friend group - if anything, the bunch of you often ganged up against him - so he wondered what was wrong with Shuhua in particular. Was it because you didn’t know her, and misunderstanding could arise?
His smile and eyes softened. No matter how adorable you looked to him right now, he wasn’t one to play games with feelings, his or yours. It was hard enough to make you realize how much he liked you (although he hoped that scene at the pool had made things more apparent), so he wasn’t going to make it even more confusing by letting you think he might like someone else.
Earlier, when he’d asked you if him dating someone else would bother you, and you’d answered no, he hadn’t formed any plan whatsoever to go off and talk to another girl right in front of you. Things just happened in his favor. He’d been talking with a whole group of people in the kitchen, but save for Jennifer, they’d all left for a game of spin the bottle (at their grown college age). Shuhua had a boyfriend back home and he had you, so they both had no interest for it. So it was just the two of them bonding over their love for Taylor Swift’s music when you appeared in the kitchen with Jaehyuk. 
Did he also feel a pang of jealousy seeing you with another guy, even though it was just Jaehyuk and he already knew of your friendship? Perhaps, but this wasn’t anything new with Jihoon. He didn’t think he’d be able to get rid of it until he had the surety that you were his, which had felt like a faraway goal until recently. Maybe it was due to his growing boldness or maybe you had managed to piece everything together yourself, but he was sure he’d felt a shift in your attitude towards him lately. There were times you would get shyer than usual, refusing to look him in the eyes; other times, like tonight, you’d defy him, as if trying to prove to both him and yourself you didn’t feel any sort of way towards him. But he hadn’t missed the way your eyes had drifted down to his lips and stayed there for a few seconds, hadn’t missed your panic when things seemed to get too real.
Just like you, although he didn’t know about that, he also found that there was something different about tonight, some tension between the two of you that was bound to explode. The fact that you were both in swimsuits had probably not helped. As soon as he’d seen you in your black tube dress, his imagination had started running wild. The way you casually had a gray zip sweatshirt of his in your room and donned it before leaving your place had made it harder to not just keep you in your apartment while the others went off to the party, and seeing you in your bikini was like the final boss he hadn’t been able to defeat. Keeping his eyes off of you was simply impossible. He wasn’t sure how he had resisted kissing you right then and there, showing everyone who the prettiest girl in the room - hell, at this party - belonged to.
(Jihoon had a bit of a possessive streak.)
Even now that you had somewhat made up, he still felt the changed air around you, like there was no going back from here. No pretending there were no unsaid feelings anymore - at least, that’s how he felt. If you needed the extra push to realize either his feelings, your own, or both, he didn’t mind initiating it. If anything, he had been waiting for it.
So he made sure to clear things up. “I didn’t want you to talk to Sunwoo because I knew he had bad intentions. Or at least selfish ones. Shuhua has a boyfriend, nothing was gonna happen there.”
“Oh, but if she didn’t, something would’ve?”
“No, Y/N. No,” Jihoon said firmly. 
“Why not? She’s pretty.” You knew you were being unreasonable at this point, arguing for the sake of arguing, but you couldn’t help yourself.
Jihoon sighed before placing a hand at the top of your head, brushing your hair gently. “I know someone who’s prettier.”
You turned your head slowly to look at him and were met with a sight you forever wanted to keep in your heart. Jihoon was looking down at you, eyes soft and filled with an emotion you wanted to describe as adoration, corners of his lips upturned into a sweet smile. You wanted to reach out and touch his cheek, feel the warmth of his skin under your palm and make sure he was real, but you were too stuck in his gaze to move.
“I actually know the prettiest girl in the world. I’m very lucky.”
You continued staring at each other for a few seconds or maybe a few hours, until he booped your nose and stood up. “Our Uber’s here, pretty girl.” 
You took his extended hand in yours and let him help you up, still in a daze as he opened the car door for you and rushed to the other side. You didn’t expect the relief you felt when he took your hand in his again as the Uber started driving. As the driver and him made minimal small talk, you watched out the window, but you couldn’t hear or see anything - you could only focus on Jihoon’s fingers intertwined with yours. Had hand-holding always felt so natural?
Even once you reached your apartment and you had to let go of it to get out of the car, the only thing you wanted was to have it again. 
You didn’t notice right away, as you punched in the code for the entrance to your apartment building, that Jihoon had stayed behind on the pavement. A light rain had started and his hair, all curled up from the pool, shone with small beads of water that the streetlights reflected on. 
“Aren’t you coming up?” you asked, turning around to face him and leaning against the door so it wouldn’t close.
“Not tonight,” he simply said, and you hesitated to ask him why. Whatever it was, he must have his reason, and you would see him again soon anyway, so you dropped it.
“Okay.” You nodded and hoped you didn’t sound as disappointed as you felt. 
You thought that would be it, but then he took a step closer to you, then another, until he was standing right in front of you. The doorstep made you taller so that your eyes were on a parallel with his lips, on which they naturally fell. No matter how confusing tonight might have been, if what you thought was about to happen actually did happen, you knew there was not a cell in your body that would resist it.
Jihoon leaned in closer and closer, until he was right there, and your lips would touch any second - but he leaned to the right, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips instead. You stood with bated breath as he leaned back, wearing a proud smirk. “Good to know you wouldn’t push me away if I tried to kiss you,” he said, but on this rare occasion, you were speechless. 
His smirk softened to a smile as he ruffled your hair. “Good night, Y/N.”
It wasn’t until he had reached the corner, turning around and waving at you to go into your building before disappearing that you snapped out of it and made your way to your apartment. As soon as you’d shut your front door behind you, you realized just how disappointed you felt that Jihoon hadn’t come up like he usually did, how much you missed the reassurance of having him there, even if the two of you were a room apart. 
You also realized you didn’t want any walls to separate you anymore.
And there you had it - the signs were too obvious to ignore anymore. The heart flutterings, the thoughts of him invading your mind day and night, the jealousy. The constant longing to be with him.
You were in love with Park Jihoon.
--
You fell into a deep sleep for about four hours, before waking up with a start.
You were in love with Park Jihoon.
What had seemed like a comforting thought at the time now freaked you out to no end. Park Jihoon was your best friend, your brother’s best friend, someone you’d met so long ago he’d known you during your embarrassing bangs phase of 2015 (BangGate, as your friends from home inappropriately liked to call it).
You were great as friends, sure, but how would you fare if things went further than that? There was no way for you to know other than by trying it firsthand. Did you want to take that leap, and risk falling face first - or chance falling right into his arms?
For some reassurance, you got your laptop out and went to Google. At first, you intended to search some YouTube videos or blog posts about successful best-friends-turned-lovers stories, but something deep inside your brain compelled you to type Omegle in the search bar. Even if it was five a.m. for you, it’d be a reasonable time of the day for people with good relationship advice somewhere, right?
In your interests, you typed love, relationship and advice, hoping this would lead you to your savior. After skipping a few naked men who apparently were into love too, two young girls appeared on your screen who, going off of their accent, were British. They looked about eleven and were doing their nails, not paying attention to their screen. NewJeans was playing in the background.
They were perfect.
“Hey, girls!” you said, cringing at the sound of your own voice.
They raised their heads in unison, looking at you for a second before coming closer to the screen, all wide smiles. One of them had braces with pink elastics. “Hey, girl!”
You decided you had no time to lose, so you directly told them you needed advice with a boy you liked. They nodded vigorously. So you told them everything - from how you and Jihoon had met, to reconnecting in September, to the events of the past few months (including a detailed rundown of what happened at the pool, which they loved). They even insisted on seeing a picture and squealed when you showed them. Your Jihoon really was handsome.
“So? What do you think I should do?” you asked when you were done recounting everything.
“I have this thing I do whenever I fancy someone,” the girl on the right started, while the other one munched on some sour candy. You nodded for her to continue. “It really helps me know if I should keep fancying them or if they’re not worth it. It’s called a compibi- compa- combali- Rosie, what was it again?”
“A compatibility test,” Rosie said, tongue blue from her candy.
“Right, that. It works like magic. Just the other week I thought for sure Leo was the cutest boy in school but then I did the test thing and got forty percent with him and a few days later he was dating Sarah anyway.”
“Sarah is terrible,” Rosie chipped in.
“Oh no!” you exclaimed.
“Yeah, really bad,” the other girl said, nodding. “But then, I did it with Martin and got eighty-six percent and we’ve been dating for ten days now, we have,” she finished proudly.
“That’s amazing.” You didn’t know if it was the lack of sleep or the conviction with which the girl spoke, but you were hooked. “How do I do it?” you asked, although you’d probably done it when you were their age too.
“Oh, it’s easy. You just type the comp- Rosie?”
“Compatibility.”
“That, test on Google and click any one of them and type in your name then his. Any of them will do, I’m sure,” she shrugged, reaching for a candy. 
“Okay, let me do it right now. Gimme a sec.” After a few clicks, you’d reached an early 2010s-style website called lovecalculator.com, all pink and cupids shooting their arrows into the sky. You typed in your name, then Jihoon’s, then pressed a shaky finger to the Enter bar.
“Oh my gosh!” you squealed. “We got ninety-nine percent!”
“Oh my gosh!” the girls yelped back, clapping and hugging each other in celebration.
“Girl, you need to go tell him right now,” non-Rosie said firmly.
“Right now,” Rosie echoed.
You pouted. “I can’t, it’s five a.m. right now.”
“You better go later then! You two are meant to be! You’ll last at least like, a month or two.” 
“At least.”
After thanking and saying good-bye to your new best friends, you spent a good three minutes staring at the big 99% in bright pink on your screen. This randomly generated number made you so happy that you took a screenshot and printed it out on Minjeong’s printer in the living room, then put it on your fridge for you to admire. You used a magnet Jihoon had gifted you for Christmas - it was a four-cut photobooth picture of you two you’d taken at the Christmas market. You thought you’d only taken the paper version, but he’d made you go get food for the both of you while he bought the magnet version as well.
Your mind at ease, you started heading back to your room, but you ran into someone right as you walked out of the kitchen.
You looked him up and down. Yoshinori was standing in your living room half-naked, looking like a deer caught in headlights. 
“H-hey, Y/N,” he said, breaking the silence first. “I’m sorry, I thought you were sleeping…”
“I woke up early,” you replied, unable to keep yourself from smiling at his awkwardness. “What are you doing?”
“Just, um, just getting some water.”
“And you have to come to my apartment to do that?”
“No, I, um- Someone called the cops, so Jaehyuk kicked all of us out.”
“I thought you were in a room somewhere?”
“Yeah, but we went outside to see what was happening, and he saw us, so we had to leave.”
“Right… Well, glad you made it back home safe.” The strangeness of the situation suddenly hit you, and you realized you should probably let the half-naked man get his glass of water and leave. “I’ll go back to my room, then.”
“Oh, right, see you, Y/N. And sorry.”
“No worries!” you said, waving his apology off and scurried off to your bedroom. You plopped into your bed with a satisfied sigh, hugging a plushie Jihoon had won for you at an arcade close to your chest. He really was everywhere.
When you woke up next, sunlight was pouring from the window into your room. You checked your phone - nine a.m.. Not early enough to go to late sleeper Jihoon’s place, but definitely early enough to call your probably still sleeping brother. You had to tell someone about your newfound revelation, and Minjeong next door was either asleep or busy.
Your phone rang with an outgoing call for so long that you thought Junkyu might simply not pick up. “I’m in love with Jihoon,” you blurted out as soon as your brother’s face appeared on screen. 
He paused for a second, taking your words in, then yawned and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Good morning to you too, Y/N.”
“I’m in love with Jihoon,” you repeated, more insistently.
“I heard you the first time.”
“Well, what do you think?!” you asked, impatience rising. You couldn’t believe your brother could be sarcastic in an emergency like this.
Junkyu frowned. “Uh, congratulations?”
You tutted. “Kyu, I’m serious about this!”
“I know, I can tell,” he said, chuckling. “Are you going to tell him?”
“I think I have to. I think… I think he feels the same way about me, actually.”
Junkyu rolled his eyes. “No shit, Sherlock.”
You paused. “Huh?”
“Everyone and their mom knows he’s in love with you, we were just all waiting for you to see it.”
“Huh?!” Junkyu shrugged. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
Your brother sighed. “Some things in life, you have to figure out on your own, sis. Like taxes.” You just frowned at him. “Well, how did you figure it out?”
“Now that you say it, I guess I should’ve noticed it earlier. But really what happened is I saw him talking to a girl.”
“Put the man in jail!”
“Shut up. And then we talked for a bit, and he didn’t outright say it, but he heavily implied that he… liked me.”
Junkyu scoffed. “That’s an understatement.”
You ignored your brother. “But I don’t know if I should wait for a bit or go tell him now-”
“Y/N. Please, put that man out of his misery and go tell him now.”
“Don’t you think he’d get upset if I confessed first? You know Jihoon, he gets proud about random things like that.”
“Believe me, he won’t care. He’ll just be happy you like him back after all this time.”
You thought for a second, a small smile blooming on your lips. “Does he really like me that much?”
Junkyu sighed. “He’s been harping on about you since we were fourteen. He probably keeps a diary or a boyblog where he just writes about you. Just go get him, girl.”
Your smile grew wider and your heart started beating faster, excitement growing in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jihoon again. “Okay, I will.” You and your brother stared at each other for a second, eyes wide in anticipation, until something struck you.
“Wait… You don’t mind, do you? Your sister and best friend dating?”
“I l-word both of you, so no, I don’t mind. I trust you both enough to not hurt each other. But I’m still your brother, so if that prick does anything to hurt you, I’ll kick his ass, okay?”
“Kyu, he bench-presses your weight as a joke.”
He squinted his eyes at you. “I’ll metaphorically kick his ass, then.”
“And what if I hurt him?”
Junkyu thought for a second. “I’ll… give you the silent treatment for a few days.”
“How scary,” you laughed.
“Anyways, congratulations in advance and all that, but for my mental health please pretend you’re not a couple in front of me and remember that premarital sex is a sin.”
“Will do! Bye, Kyu!”
--
Right after hanging up with your brother, you texted Jihoon, asking if you could come over. You quickly got ready, doing affirmations in the mirror to calm yourself down, and as soon as your phone pinged with Jihoon’s answer (miss me already?), you were out the door. It was usually a thirteen-minute walk between your and Jihoon’s place, but with the power of love, it only took you eight.
You felt like your body had gone on autopilot - instead of practicing over and over what you would say to him in your head, imagining all the terrible ways it could go or pacing back and forth in front of his apartment building, you just walked, the loud thumping of your heart in your ears drowning everything else out. You’d just get there and get it over with. 
Even when you had to wait for seven seconds (you counted) for Jihoon to open the door after you’d rung the doorbell, you didn’t start panicking. 
“Hey, Y/N, I just ordered some-”
“I love you.”
“Breakfast… You what?”
“I love you, Hoonie,” you beamed. The relief of letting those words free made tears pool in the corner of your eyes.
Jihoon just stared at you, mouth agape and expression like he couldn’t believe what was hearing. Reaching for your hand, he brought you closer to him and shut the door behind you, eyes never once leaving yours. Then, he pulled you into a hug, one so tight you’d be worried about your blood circulation being cut off if it wasn’t Jihoon’s arms you were in. 
“Can you say it again, please?” he asked, nose buried in your hair and voice weak like you’d never heard it before.
You tightened your hold around his waist. “I love you,” you whispered.
“Again?”
“I love you,” you repeated, giggling.
He laughed too, more out of relief than anything. “I love you, too.”
He leaned back and raised his hands to gently cup your face in his palms. The both of you were smiling like idiots from ear to ear, gazing into each other’s eyes. Tears streamed down your cheek and he wiped them away with a thumb before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
“Took you long enough,” he said, making you laugh again.
“I know, I’m sorry.”
Jihoon shook his head. “Don’t be. You have no idea how happy I am right now.”
“I’m happy for you guys and all, but could you like, not do this here?” a voice interrupted you. You looked behind Jihoon’s shoulder to find Hyunsuk, one of his roommates, on the living room sofa, watching Brooklyn 99. You hadn’t even noticed him. In his defense, you were declaring your love for each other right next to him in the entrance hallway. 
“Oh, right, sorry, Suk. Let’s go into my room,” he said, tugging at your hand. 
The both of you burst into giggles as soon as the door shut behind you. Jihoon wasted no time in pulling you into another hug, and it felt like your whole body sighed as you let his warmth engulf you. You cursed yourself for not letting yourself have this earlier. You gently rocked from side to side together, as if slow dancing to a melody only the two of you could hear.
“I guess a little jealousy goes a long way, huh?” Jihoon said after a minute of silence.
“I wasn’t jealous,” you huffed, leaning back so he could see your frown.
“What made you realize your undying love for me, then?”
“I just… I thought we’d be good together. I realized how compatible we are, if you will.”
“Our compatibility? Did you only notice it last night?”
You grinned. “Guess I did,” you answered, just to tease him. Jihoon did not need to know about your love calculator epiphany.
He looked at you like you had hung the stars in the sky. You felt shy under his gaze, but you couldn’t get yourself to look away. “So does that mean we’re… boyfriend and girlfriend now?” he asked, making you burst into laughter. “Don’t make fun of me! It’s important to make things clear,” he complained between giggles.
“Yes, let’s be boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“Awesome,” he replied, then pursed his lips as if debating to say what he wanted to say next. “So, now that we’re boyfriend and girlfriend…”
“Yes, Hoon?”
“Does that mean I can kiss you?” he asked, a small smile playing on his lips that you mirrored.
“Please,” you whispered.
So he did.
When his lips touched yours, it was like a flower that had been waiting for the right moment finally bloomed inside your chest. It felt soft, and comforting, and just right. Like your lips had always meant to meet. 
At least, it started out that way. The fabric of Jihoon’s t-shirt bunched up in your hands while his cupped your face tenderly, your lips moving in a slow cadence against each other’s as if you had all the time in the world - and you did. You were both so filled to the brim with excitement that when you pulled away for a breather, you laughed together, foreheads resting against each other.
But then, you raised your hands and threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging on it gently as you deepened the kiss. You probably hadn’t done it on purpose, simply wanting to feel more of Jihoon out of some basic instinct - but it undid something in him. 
He slid his hands down the sides of your neck and your shoulders until they reached your arms, pulling on them to have your body closer to his. His hands then continued their journey down to your waist, where they sneaked themselves under your t-shirt. They ran up and up until almost your entire back was exposed to the fresh air in his room, the contrast between that and the fire-hot warmth of Jihoon’s hands against your bare skin making you shiver.
He walked you backwards until the back of your legs hit his mattress, unto which he helped you down gently, somehow not breaking the kiss as he did. One of his hands came to brush hair away from your face, while the other remained on your waist, after some time venturing onto your stomach, a sensitive spot for you that made you sigh into his mouth. He took that opportunity to slide his tongue against yours, yet another new sensation that made your head spin.
This was exceeding any expectations you had ever had for a first kiss. In fact, you had always thought first kisses were messy, awkward things, but this was nothing of the sort - your whole body was on edge, responding to every little movement on Jihoon’s part. Your fingers buzzed with a fizzy electricity that put your brain in a daze. You could do this forever, you thought. 
But forever was cut short by the sudden buzz of Jihoon’s phone. Jihoon started, practically leaping off of you and dramatically holding onto his chest when he realized it was just his phone that had interrupted you. The delivery person was calling him to announce their arrival. 
Jihoon pressed a kiss to your forehead, took a few steps, then came back to press another kiss, this time to your lips. Your stomach growled loudly while you waited for him, and you realized you still hadn’t eaten today. Add making out to that, you were ready to devour whatever it was Jihoon had ordered. 
The smell coming from the paper bag Jihoon held as he entered the room again made you close your eyes in bliss and take a deep whiff. “Johnny’s,” you whispered. “You know me so well.”
Johnny’s was your absolute favorite breakfast place in all of town. It had been opened a few years ago by a graduate of your university who had mastered the art of hangover food. From soups, to hash brown patties, to iced coffee, he knew exactly what it was that students needed after a night out. You could tell he had a lot of experience with that himself. He was kind of like a God amongst the student body of your university.
“Of course I do. I know your order from all of your favorite restaurants, and somehow you only realized yesterday that I was pathetically in love with you.”
You smiled sheepishly, taking a bite of your sausage and egg wrap. “How long are you going to hold this over my head?”
Jihoon grinned brightly. “Until I forget about it.”
“So never?”
“Precisely.”
He put on the next episode of your show, and for the next couple hours, the two of you stayed holed up in his room, cuddling once you were done with your food. Even though you had spent endless time watching shows or movies side by side, neither of you had ever dared initiate physical touch, no matter how much you’d wanted to. He’d been scared you’d pull away from him, and you’d been scared it’d be awkward. You hadn’t realized how much you’d longed for his proximity and warmth until you had it.
Save for his laptop screen, it’d been quiet for a while, and you thought you might fall asleep when Jihoon spoke. “I’m so glad I don’t need to pretend anymore,” he said as one episode finished and the next one started.
“Pretend what?”
“That I’m not desperately in love with you and that every single little thing you do doesn’t drive me insane.”
You giggled. “Does it?”
“Yes,” he whispered, his voice a heavy sigh, almost a groan. There was a slight edge to it, a deeper meaning behind that short yes that had your stomach suddenly feeling very tight.
“Oh,” was all you could answer. You suddenly wondered what you might have done without thinking that had had an effect on Jihoon, just as he’d done to you many times before. You also wondered what sort of effect you may have had on him, what sort of thoughts he may have had about you that he had to keep to himself all this time.
Tentatively, you cocked your head up, only to find he was already looking down at you. The glint in his eyes made your body burn. Just as he started to lean in to reunite your lips, your phone buzzed with many texts in a row. Jihoon closed his eyes in frustration and sighed. “I want to throw both of our phones away,” he said, making you laugh.
minjeong hey pooks idk if ur out somewhere or still sleeping but im going to yoshis placeee he needs some stuff there so we’re going together and i’ll prob spend the night over… we’re like inseparable rn or wtv. anyways dont set the place on fire while i’m gone x
you ok thx for letting me know xx im w my boyfriend rn
Minjeong’s response didn’t even take three seconds to come through.
minjeong HUHHHH??? GIRL ???
you hehe
minjeong park jihoon is one lucky man
you how do u know its him?
minjeong literally who else would it be wait does that mean we’ll go on double dates…
you yeah ur right and pls no
minjeong DOUBLE DATES !! girls night tomorrow night i want all the deeeets have fun having the place all to urselves and rmb to use protection xx
you why is that where ur mind goes first ?? down for girls night tho can we watch teen beach movie
minjeong duhhh
“Teen Beach Movie?” Jihoon said, startling you. You hadn’t realized he’d been reading over your shoulders.
“It’s a good movie,” you mumbled, frowning.
“Right.” He said nothing for a few seconds, but he just couldn’t contain himself. The question was burning his tongue. “Aren’t you on the pill?”
Your head snapped towards him at the sudden question. “Uh, yeah, I am. Why?”
His eyes scanned your face as a smirk grew on his lips. “Then we don’t need to use protection, do we?”
You gulped. Your whole face felt hot - after having just shared your first kiss, you hadn’t expected him to mention sex so easily. Not that you weren’t interested in that, far from it, you were just… nervous.
You turned away from him, unable to sustain his gaze any longer. “I guess not,” you murmured. You had started taking the pill at the beginning of university, mainly to regulate your period and lessen your hormonal acne. The contraceptive part was just a bonus, one you had never imagined would come into handy like this. 
Jihoon’s eyes suddenly widened. “Oh, I need to tell Yoshi about this! He’s gonna freak. I hope he won’t be mad he learned it from Minjeong and not me first.”
“Yoshi?” you asked as you watched him reach for his phone on his nightstand.
“Yeah, we’ve been updating each other on our love lives. He’s really into Minjeong, by the way.”
“That’s… strangely wholesome, actually.” 
While he typed away, you tilted your head and took the time to appreciate your boyfriend’s features. The round eyes, heart-shaped lips, sharp nose and even sharper jawline. He was so pretty, and now, he was all yours.
Without thinking, you traced a finger along his jaw, liking the feel of it against your skin. When his eyes found yours, you dropped your hand and straightened your head, expression like you’d just been caught red-handed.
“Should we go back to your place? We can pick up food on the way.”
You smiled. “We just ate.”
“And I’m hungry again,” he said, mirroring your smile and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. Or at least, he had intended it as a chaste kiss, but he found that he couldn’t quite get himself to pull away. “Let’s go,” he said, lips moving against yours as he spoke, but made no move to actually go.
“Let’s go,” you repeated, staying perfectly still. You’re not sure who was the one to cross the millimeters between your lips, but before you knew it, you and Jihoon’s lips were stuck to each other once more. This kiss had none of the gradual intensity of the previous one - right off the bat, the feeling of Jihoon’s lips against yours flooded all of your senses.
Your hands found purchase in his hair while his found their way to your waist once more. With surprising ease, he pulled you to him so that you were straddling his lap. For a second there, you were conscious about how heavy you might be on top of him, but it was all forgotten when he pressed his lips to yours again in a passionate kiss. In this new position, you could press your body close to his, so close you could almost feel his heart beat against yours. He also had easier access to your back than before, and he quickly took advantage of that. 
Just like before, he sneaked his hands underneath your t-shirt, making you arch your back against him. He slid a finger underneath your bra strap and pulled away for a second to ask if this was okay. You looked at him - his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen before and his face had lust written all over it. You were sure you looked similar.
“Yeah, it’s okay,” you whispered before diving back into the kiss. One second apart felt like hours to you.
Your breath got shakier as he unclasped your bra. He didn’t do anything right away, settling on brushing his palm up and down your back while your heart raced with anticipation. You were so on edge that you couldn’t even kiss him anymore - you buried your face in his neck, gripping his hair so tightly you were probably hurting him. You didn’t care if he could feel how desperate you were. Then, finally, painfully slowly, one of his hands made its way to your front, and he gently grabbed your breast underneath your bra that was hanging from your shoulders. That was already a foreign sensation in itself, but when he took your nipple between two fingers and pulled on it ever-so-gently, the pleasure that overtook your body was so intense that it made you let out a loud gasp and you pulled away from Jihoon, startled as if you had been shocked by lightning. 
“Are you okay?” he asked, breathing heavily, a mix of worry and desire in his eyes. 
You nodded, holding onto his shoulders as you tried to make your breathing return to normal. “I’m fine, just… it’s all very new, is all. I’ve never done any of this before.”
Never had a boyfriend, never held hands romantically, never kissed - that was you. Not that you minded, though, since you’d never been interested in anyone and you were happy to do this with Jihoon, whom you trusted more than anyone else.
He smiled softly. “That’s okay. Does it at least feel good?” he asked, low voice making the hairs on your arms stand.
You whined, hiding your face in the dip of his shoulder again. “It does…” you admitted, voice muffled against his skin.
“You know, it’s my first time too,” he said after a while. 
You lifted your head to look at him. “Really?”
“Mh-hm. You’re my first girlfriend.” His eyes were full of affection as he gazed at you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You giggled. “What’s funny?” he asked softly, pressing a kiss to your jaw.
“We’re each other’s firsts,” you explained. “I think that’s nice.”
Jihoon made his way to your lips, giving them a small peck. “That is nice. And I promise I’ll make you feel so good,” another peck, “you’ll want me to be your last as well.”
You looked at him for a bit, taking in his features that looked even more beautiful to you now that you’d realized your feelings for him, and thought of a life with him. It might have been slightly premature, but you already knew you liked the idea of that.
“Okay,” you said, as if what he had said had been an offer. It made him smile.
“Okay.” He kissed you, softly like you could break underneath his touch. “You’re so cute, you know that?” he asked against your lips, but didn’t leave you time to answer before kissing you again. “Okay, I think we should take a break,” he said after a few minutes. “We can go to your place. And then we’ll have more… privacy.”
You agreed that spending some time not pressed up against Jihoon might help you think straight again. The walk to your apartment was nice and quiet, your interlocked hands swinging back and forth between your two bodies. When you walked past the grocery store, you stopped in your tracks, looking at Jihoon with a smile which he mirrored immediately, even without knowing the reason behind it.
“Should we bake a cake to celebrate our first day together?”
“That’s very cheesy.” His grin widened as he took a step closer to you. “I love it.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and led you into the store.
The rest of that afternoon was spent baking and decorating the cake. It was a simple vanilla batter, but it took way longer than it should have, because Jihoon first insisted on having a flour fight (which took ages to clean), then on having two cakes and having a competition for whose would be prettier (yours, of course), but you loved every last second of it. It was like a scene out of a movie, and you could not have been more content. To really bring home the cheesiness of it all, you even recorded yourselves blowing out the number one candles of your respective cakes.
The evening came around, and, full of cake and Chinese takeout, you were holed up in bed together, watching the first movie that had popped up on your Netflix recommended. It was too easy, falling asleep in his arms. The combination of his comforting scent and the soft back rubs he was giving you lulled you to sleep like nothing else. 
When you woke up next, it was because of a sudden lack of warmth next to you. You lifted your head to find Jihoon opening your bedroom door and heading into the living room. He had just been going to get water, but you didn’t know that.
“Hoon?” you called out, raising yourself to a sitting position on your bed. He immediately turned around, walking back towards you and crouching next to your bed.
“Hm?”
“Aren’t you staying?” you asked, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt sleeve. He looked at your hand before his gaze slowly made its way back up towards your face, a smirk growing on his pretty lips. 
“Do you want me to?” he asked back, gazing deep into your eyes. His voice had dropped to a low volume that made it hard to breathe. Initially, you’d just wanted him back by your side, but now all sorts of thoughts were running through your mind.
“Of course. I mean, we’re dating, right?” 
In an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, you tried to chuckle, but all laughter died in your throat when your eyes locked with Jihoon’s. You weren’t scared of his intensity - you were scared of the pace at which your desire for him was growing. One inch closer, and you knew you’d be wrapped around his finger.
He leaned closer.
“What are you trying to say?” he asked, tilting his head innocently to the side. Mindlessly, you rubbed your thighs together, searching for some relief for your core that had started to throb of its own accord, but Jihoon was following your every movement and had noticed it. “Are you saying you want to consummate our relationship?” he asked again, a hint of amusement in his voice as he placed his hands on your knee that wasn’t covered by the blanket.
You scoffed and looked away, hoping you didn’t look as flustered as you felt. “Not if you say it like that,” you mumbled.
Jihoon’s eyebrows perked up. “How should I say it, then?” he whispered. His hand slowly brushed along your sides until it reached your waist. Even over your layer of clothing, his touch burned. “You want me to make love to you?”
You kept your gaze fixed on something behind his shoulder, focusing on your breathing that was getting shakier and shakier. He drew the blanket away, leaving your thighs exposed to the chilly air for a second before he splayed his large palms on them, bringing you some warmth but intensifying the throbbing in your core. His hands inched closer and closer to where you most needed them, rubbing over your inner thighs but swerving right before he actually reached your core, setting them on your hip bones instead.
“Or do you want me to fuck you, Y/N?”
He took your chin between two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. Your eyes locked for a second before they dropped to his lips, watching the smirk that grew on them. “Guess it’s the latter.” 
As soon as your lips touched, you were overwhelmed by the immensity of your desire for him. Your whole body burned in want, in need. You had no idea what to do except hold on tightly to him and hope for the best, hope that he’d know how to guide you through this even if it was new for him as well. 
If you thought the kisses you’d shared earlier in the day had been intense, this one was on a whole other level. Your hands grabbed everywhere they could find and his gripped your waist firmly as your tongues danced with each other, resulting in a messy kiss that had your head spinning from lack of air in seconds. And yet, you couldn’t get enough. You kept pulling Jihoon impossibly closer by the hem of his t-shirt until he got frustrated from the layer of clothing between you two and simply took it off, discarding somewhere in your room. He gave you no time to admire his defined chest or abs, because he trapped your lips right away. 
He pushed you slowly onto the bed until he was hovering over you, alternating between kissing your lips and your neck, that you were sure would have a couple of purple marks for you to find the next day. Your skin burned wherever he touched it, and it was like a trail of fire had appeared as his hand made its way to your breasts once more, grabbing harshly at the soft flesh there. 
The whole time, he had been in some sort of a trance, drunk on your body, on your scent, on the way you were touching him - on the feeling that you finally wanted him as much as he’d wanted you all this time. But when he helped you out of the articles of clothing covering your upper body, and he had you half-naked underneath him, he had to take a double take and remember to take his time instead of just devouring you whole. For both his sake and yours.  
So he stopped for a bit, letting himself admire you. He noticed you shifting uncomfortably, so he leaned down again, pressing soft kisses along your cheeks and your jaw. “You really are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he whispered before kissing you. He then continued his journey down your neck and collarbones until he reached your breast. “Really so beautiful.”
When he took one of your nipples in his mouth, your back arched against him and you let out a loud moan. He couldn’t keep himself from chuckling slightly - he found it adorable how sensitive you were everywhere he touched you. Your moans were like music to his ears.
Nothing had ever felt like this before. As he circled his tongue around your nipple - God knows where he had learned how to do this - it took everything you had to not just scream in pleasure. Even if Minjeong was out, you still had neighbors. Now that you couldn’t grab his t-shirt, you’d switched to his hair, and you were tugging at it so hard you wouldn’t have been surprised if you ripped a clump of it from his head.
Your panties were sticking to your core, all slick with your arousal, and you didn’t know how long you could go on anymore without attention down there.
As if he’d heard your thoughts, Jihoon started making his way down your body once more, trailing kisses all across your ribcage and stomach.
“I’m torn between taking this real slow and making it last as long as possible.” His lips found a sensitive spot on your lower stomach, right next to your hip bone, and he gently bit the skin there, licking it afterwards to offer you some relief. “Or just devouring you now that I finally have you.”
“Jihoon,” you sighed, desperation evident in your voice. “Please, just do something.”
“Like what?” he asked, clearly enjoying your lust-filled state of mind.
“Anything.”
He chuckled, and by the sound of it, you knew he didn’t have anything good in mind. He lowered himself some more until his mouth was positioned right in front of your pussy, and, with no warning, licked a long strip from your hole to your clit over your panties, humming at the taste of your arousal.
“Something like this?” he asked afterwards, but was only met with a whine. He kissed the soft flesh of your inner thighs while you squirmed in his hold.
“Don’t tease me, please…” you begged, and your voice was so weak and genuine that he could only give in. 
“Whatever you want, baby,” he obliged, the nickname rolling off of his tongue casually. He had no idea what it did to you. 
He helped you out of your underwear, finally getting you fully naked just for him. Jihoon was a man of his words, so not a second was lost before he dived right back into you, licking up the arousal spilling out of you before flicking his tongue at your clit. He held your hips tightly in both of his hands so you couldn’t squirm away from him and ate you out like a man starved. You were so sweet and warm against his tongue, and your taste was worlds more intoxicating than any alcohol he’d ever had. He’d do this forever if you let him.
He noticed quickly that attention to your clit was what got you moaning the loudest, so he alternated between circling his tongue around it and gently sucking at it, sometimes releasing it with a pop just for the hell of it. He slipped a finger easily inside of you, your wetness accommodating him immediately. He couldn’t wait to be inside you - his hard cock was throbbing in the confines of his underwear, but his only concern right now was to make you come undone for him. 
When he found that deep spot inside of you, the one that had you gasping in pleasure and moaning his name, he slid a second finger in, and just like that, you were done for. You came apart on his fingers and tongue, a complete moaning mess underneath him, and he lapped up the arousal leaking out of you like it was water. 
You’d already thought you were at the peak of pleasure when your orgasm came ripping through you like an avalanche, blindsiding you and making you see bright white stars behind your tightly closed eyelids. Your throat felt dry from all the moaning and heaving you’d been doing. You had to take Jihoon’s face between your hands and gently pull him up yourself, otherwise it seemed like he was happy to keep going, but it was starting to overwhelm you.
Jihoon held you in his arms as you came down from your high. You let out the laughter bubbling in your throat as your breathing returned to normal - not because something was funny, but because you had just felt so ridiculously amazing that you couldn’t help but laugh. 
“How was it?” Jihoon asked, a lot shyer than you’d expected.
You lifted your head to look at him, a bright smile on your face even though you felt close to exhausted. “I have a hard time believing that was your first time giving head, Hoon.”
He chuckled. “Very first time, I promise you. I must just have some God-given skills.”
“I’m not even gonna fight you on that, because that was amazing,” you conceded, nuzzling yourself closer to him.
“I’m glad I could do that for you,” he said softly, burying his nose at the top of your head and inhaling there. The scent of your hair was oddly comforting for him.
Before you let yourself drift off to sleep, you started raking your fingernails across his chest and abs, smiling proudly to yourself when you heard him breathe shakily or felt his muscles clench under your touch. He wasn’t saying anything, but you could tell he was holding himself back. “I think,” you started, pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw, “That you deserve something in return.”
“You don’t-”
You knew Jihoon. He didn’t like it when you insisted on paying for coffee because he’d done it the last time, or when you baked him something because he’d stayed up all night with you studying for a test. He liked taking care of you, but you always had to almost force him to let you take care of him. You wanted your relationship to be fifty-fifty - you wanted to give him as much as he gave you. Even if he would let you, it wasn’t fair to just take and take.
So you insisted. Whatever he was about to say, it died on his tongue as soon as you placed your palm on his erection. It felt hot and hard under your hand, and saying you weren’t slightly intimidated would be a lie, but you wanted to do this. If you were able to give Jihoon half the pleasure he’d given you moments prior, you’d be satisfied. 
You rubbed your hand slowly up and down over his clothes. “Really, baby,” he managed to say between shaky breaths, “I didn’t do that to get something in return- Fuck,” he whispered as you hooked your fingers underneath the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling it down his legs so he was only left in his underwear. Under the black fabric, his bulge looked huge, and you gulped at the idea of having it inside you.
“This feels good, right, Hoon?” you asked, steadily getting bolder and pressing slightly harder against his bulge as you continued rubbing it.
“It- it does, but-”
You shut him up by pressing your lips to his. He reciprocated it immediately, almost unconsciously, before moaning into the kiss. “So let me do this for you,” you whispered before ridding him of his underwear.
“Okay,” he said, sighing as you rubbed your hands from his knees along his thighs.
The groan he let out as you took him in your hand sent shivers straight down your spine. You could finally put to use all the knowledge Minjeong had passed on to you over the past few months. You let go of Jihoon’s cock to spit in your hand, the moisture helping you glide your loosely closed fist along his shaft with more ease. Your movements themselves were probably very clumsy, but Jihoon didn’t seem to mind - he moaned shamelessly, head fallen back against the pillows and exposed Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
Seeing him like this and knowing it was all because of you drove you crazy, and soon, you became greedy for any sign of pleasure from him. You wanted to hear all of his moans, sighs, groans, watch his abs clench tightly and feel him grab your hair, which he did as soon as you flicked your tongue across his tip, already leaking with pre-cum. The endless string of curses and moans that flew from his mouth as you circled your tongue and shallowly bobbed your mouth around him filled you with satisfaction.
“Fuck, just like that, Y/N. You’re doing so fucking well, baby. Making me feel so good.” Those words had been the cherry on top.
Jihoon was of a more-than-decent size, and fitting all of him inside of your mouth was probably a task that would take a few tries to achieve - you still did your best to take as much of him as you could. You massaged his balls with one of your hands, using the other to hold the base of his shaft while you bobbed your head up and down. You did this with increasing speed then let him take control over your pace as his fingers threaded themselves in your hair, guiding your head around him. You didn’t even know if he was doing it on purpose or out of reflex, but you definitely did not mind handing him the reins.
“You’re gonna make me- Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna cum, sweetheart.” You hummed around his shaft, and that seemed to do him in - with a loud groan, he released his load, hot and sticky inside your mouth. Taken aback by the bitter taste, you lifted your head and only swallowed what you had caught. You took him in your hand again, jerking him off to help him ride out the rest of his high.
You watched him, transfixed by his heaving chest, eyes screwed shut, the beads of sweat pearling across his torso, and the red blush that had spread from his face down to his neck. You’d done this. You’d gotten Jihoon in such a state. You let him rest for a bit as you wiped your hands and his body with a tissue and had a sip of water.
You then pressed a kiss to his cheek, taking the time to admire his smiling face. When he opened his eyes and found yours, you suddenly felt so shy that you returned to your usual cuddling position, head resting against his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to him. You were both smelly and sticky, but you couldn’t care less.
“You did so good, baby. You did such a good job,” he whispered, the praise going right to your heart.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. That was amazing.” He sighed contentedly, then lowered his head to look at you. “You feeling sleepy?”
You shook your head no, a shy smile on your lips.
Jihoon smirked slightly. “You wanna keep going?”
You nodded.
He shifted himself so that his back rested against the headboard. “Come here,” he whispers, pulling you to his lap. You both winced in sensitivity at the feeling of your core right against his softening dick, but you didn’t want to pull apart either. If anything, the small stimulation created a pit in your lower stomach for the second time of the night.
You wrapped your arms lazily around his neck while he rested one of his hands on your hips and used the other one to rub your back. “How are you feeling?” he asked, eyes soft and full of affection.
You pressed a long, gentle kiss to his lips. “Good. Really good,” you said, making him chuckle.
“Good. Me too.”
You made out lazily, lips moving languidly against each other, neither of you in a rush to get anywhere. But after some time, you started to feel Jihoon hardening under you, and when you rocked your hips against him, coating his growing erection with arousal, he groaned. His hands traveled down to your ass, grabbing hard at the skin there as he helped you rock back and forth against him. You started out slowly at first, moaning every time your clit brushed against his tip, but it wasn’t long before you sped things up and lost yourself in pleasure once again. Your arms tightened their hold around his neck and, burying your face in his neck, you pressed your chest flush to his and muffled your moans against his skin, in both pleasure and frustration at having him right against you but not inside.
You suddenly lifted your head, and the look on your face made Jihoon instantly stop. “Is everything okay, baby?”
You nodded, but your worry was still evident in the crease of your brows. “Yeah, I just…” You pouted. “I’m scared it’ll hurt, Hoon.”
Jihoon caressed the side of your cheek with his palm, brushing some hair away from your face. “We don’t have to do this today-”
“No!” you exclaimed, taking the both of you aback. “I want to.”
“Okay.”
“I’m just a little bit nervous.”
“Okay. That’s okay, baby.” One of his hands rubbed reassuring circles into your lower back. “We can go as slow as you want, okay? And we can stop whenever you want. Just let me know. Does that sound good?”
You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, it does.”
Jihoon smiled and pressed his lips to yours. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah,” you whispered.
He helped you lay on your back against the mattress and hovered over you, propping himself up on one forearm. As he kissed you, he caressed one of your thighs, hand inching closer and closer to your core and making your blood rush with anticipation. Then he finally pressed two fingers to your folds, gathering up some of your arousal 
before sliding his digits inside of you. As you gasped out in pleasure, his lips trailed away from your lips and found a new home in your neck.
He scissored his fingers inside of you, stretching you out and getting you ready for him as he murmured words of “you’re doing so well” and “I’ll make you feel good,” as if he wasn’t already. When you seemed relaxed enough, he slid his fingers out of you, smiling at you mischievously while he sucked your arousal off of them. Then, taking his dick by the base, he rubbed his tip along your folds, making your body twitch and loud moans escape your mouth. He pressed a final kiss to your cheek and buried his face in your neck, trying to ground himself too as he slowly started pushing himself inside of you.
His dick was so much bigger than his fingers, and you gripped his hair tightly as you got used to the new sensation. Tears prickled in your eyes, the unexpected stretch making you frown in discomfort. It was a completely different pain to what you were used to, but the overwhelming pleasure mixed with it made it almost welcome. 
Jihoon was using all of his self-control to not pound you into tomorrow - your tight pussy was sucking him right in, and it was like his whole body sighed of relief when he bottomed out. He couldn’t believe he was inside you, feeling your walls clench around him and hearing your soft grunts as you got used to him. It was a scene right out of his wet dreams. 
“You okay?” he asked, voice muffled against your skin. His voice sounded strained and heavy. 
“I’m okay, Hoonie. I just need a minute.”
For that minute, as you breathed shallowly and relaxed around him, Jihoon pressed wet kisses wherever his lips could reach and twirled one of your nipples between two fingers to take your mind off of your pain. 
“Take your time. I know I’m big, baby,” he said. You could hear the smirk in his voice.
“No, you’re just right, Hoon. It feels nice now.” 
Objectively, Jihoon knew that this was a good thing, and that you had meant in a good way - better for him to fit right inside rather than cause you pain, but a part of his ego had still been hurt by your refutal of his claim. But then you told him he could move, and he forgot all about it.
It took him another superhuman kind of effort to go slow, slowly rolling his hips against yours with a self-control he didn’t know he had. He scanned your face for any signs of discomfort, kissing your small frown in the hope it might go away. He watched as your jaw relaxed and the soft hums escaping your throat turned into moans, as the crease in your eyebrows softened and turned into one of pleasure rather than pain. He allowed his movements to speed up, noting with satisfaction the increasing volume of the noises you were making and the way your fingernails dug into the skin of his shoulders.
He lifted himself on his palms and hooked one of your legs around his hips, the new, deeper angle having you seeing stars. He asked if you were okay again, and when you not only nodded yes, but asked him to go faster, Jihoon had to admit he got a little bit carried away, both in his actions and his words. 
Jihoon had a big mouth - you knew it, everyone knew it. What you didn’t know was that he would keep that big mouth even balls-deep inside you.
Maintaining a fast pace, he lowered himself so that his lips tickled your ear as he spoke. “You’re doing so well, baby. Taking my cock like the good girl you are. Isn’t that right? You’re my good girl,” he grunted, punctuating his words with harsh rolls of his hips into yours. You couldn’t even get yourself to answer, that’s how far gone you were, his words going into your one ear and coming out the other. All you could think about was how good it all felt, from his tip repeatedly hitting that delicious spot inside of you to the feeling of his warm, sticky skin against yours. The room smelled of sweat and arousal and was filled with all sorts of noises - your heavy breathing, your moans, your grunts, the wet sound of Jihoon’s dick inside of you.
“Can’t even say anything, can you? Am I making you feel that good, baby?”
You moaned, thinking that should be enough of a yes for him, but you should’ve known better. 
“I think you should answer me when I ask you a question, Y/N,” he commanded, slowing his pace down to get you to listen to him.
“Y-yes, it feels so good, Hoon,” you replied, out-of-breath.
“Attagirl,” he whispered, smiling as he bit the lobe of your ear. 
You hadn’t even realized you were crying until Jihoon halted in his motions, feeling one of your hot, wet tears on his palm. He was quick to wipe it away, searching for any pain in your features, but you only whined, asking him why he’d stopped. 
“Why are you crying, baby? Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” he asked frantically. The worry in his voice only amplified your already overflowing love for him.
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just… God, this is so embarrassing,” you all but sobbed against his skin, realizing that the pleasure had been so overwhelming, tears had started flowing from your eyes. 
“No, it’s not.”
You screwed your eyes shut for a second before meeting his gaze again. “I just- it feels so good, Hoon.”
A pause passed as he took a deep breath. “Is that it?”
“It is, I promise. Please, just… let’s keep going, Hoonie. I was so close,” you whined, and Jihoon couldn’t help but chuckle at your desperation. How was it that he still found you so adorable even in such a situation?
“Okay, baby. I’m relieved.” He wiped more of your tears that had fallen, but as soon as he moved inside of you again, taking a minute to return to his previous harsh pace, your tears resumed streaking down your cheeks. Jihoon kissed them, savoring their salty taste on his tongue.
It didn’t take long for the knot in your stomach to become tight again, and with every deep thrust, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. 
“You look so pretty like this, sweetheart. All fucked out for me.”
“Mm. I’m so close, Hoon, gonna- fuck, gonna-”
“You’re gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum and make a mess all over my cock?”
“Yes, Hoon, fuck-”
You gasped out loud as his hand found your clit again, using his thumb to rub quick circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Cum for me, sweetheart, show me how good it feels.”
That did it for you. Your second orgasm of the night washed over you, making you release your loudest moan yet. You held on to Jihoon like you might fall apart if you didn’t. 
The quick clenching and unclenching of your walls around Jihoon’s dick as he fucked you throughout your high drove him crazy and, soon enough, he came undone himself, hot, white ropes of his cum filling you up. The squelch as he fucked his cum into you, the both of you moaning in overstimulation, was nothing short of pornographic. 
Jihoon all but collapsed on top of you, humming as you traced your fingernails up and down his back. You took a few minutes to collect yourselves, and you thought he might have fallen asleep, soft dick still inside you, when he lifted himself up with a sigh and slid out of you. You winced at the loss of his warmth. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and said he’d be back in a sec. 
When he entered your room again, he was carrying a towel, a tall glass of water, and leftovers from your takeout earlier. He cleaned you off and asked you how you felt, then you chatted as you ate your food. You could pass out at any moment, but it was nice, talking a little bit after the moment you shared instead of falling asleep straight away. 
He almost choked on his water when you asked him where he’d learned to talk so dirty - now that he was out of the moment, his cheeks reddened at the thought of everything he’d told you. “It just comes naturally,” he’d said shyly.
“Do you want anything?” he asked when you were done eating. 
You kissed him, smiling against his lips. “I’m all good, Hoon. You?”
He mirrored your smile. “All good, too.”
“I just wanna cuddle and sleep now. I’m spent.”
“Sounds perfect to me,” he whispered. He laid down on his back and you followed, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulder while you rested your head on his chest. He drew you close to him and pulled the blankets over your intertwined bodies. “Is it creepy if I just stare at you for a little bit?”
“Kinda, yeah.”
“But you’re so pretty,” Jihoon pouted.
“I’ll just sleep and pretend I don’t know anything about it.”
“Okay, just don’t panic if you feel a strange but very attractive presence looming over you.”
You snorted. “Noted. Night, Hoon.” You pressed a kiss to his neck and he hummed.
“Night, pretty. Sleep tight.”
--
When you woke up a few hours later, your room was bathing in the bright yellow glow of the early morning. You and Jihoon had shifted positions in the night and you’d ended up curled up on your side, back to him while he slept on his back, arms sprayed out next to him. It was the feeling of him shifting closer to you and wrapping an arm around your waist that had awoken you, a sudden warmth engulfing your body that made you feel like you might still be dreaming.
But no, it was all very real. From the man behind you, to the events of the previous night, to the dull but not unpleasant ache you felt between your legs. You sighed contentedly, taking his hand in yours and wrapping it tighter around yourself. 
Curious to see if he was awake, you turned around after a few minutes and faced him. He seemed pretty passed out until you pressed a soft kiss to his nose, then another to his cheek. His eyebrows creased for a second and his foot moved against yours. He didn’t open his eyes, but he pursed his lips for a kiss. He wasn’t content with just a peck, however, and you found yourself making out with him first thing in the morning, lips full of sleep and cotton-soft like your pillows. 
“You have no idea how much I’ve dreamed of this,” he says after a while, keeping his eyes closed, morning voice sending chills down your spine. “Waking up next to you.”
“You have?”
“I have. I don’t know if I should freak out over this and have a party or just be chill about it,” he said, smiling.
“We can have a party.”
“Really?” Jihoon asked, opening his eyes wide, excited like a kid who was just told they were going to Disneyland.
“Sure,” you giggled. “We can invite all of our friends and celebrate our one-week anniversary or something. Minjeong will probably want to plan it.”
He sighed happily. “I’m holding you to that. We’re celebrating.”
After lazing around in bed for a couple hours, going back and forth between chatting while cuddling and making out, your growling stomachs forced you out of your room and into the kitchen.
You and Jihoon noticed it at the same time. It was hard to miss, after all - a bright pink sheet of A4 paper with hearts and little Cupids everywhere right in the middle of the surface of your fridge, but more importantly, your name and Jihoon’s in big bubble letters with 99% in the middle. You wanted to rip it from the surface of your fridge, but the damage had been done - index pointed at the paper, Jihoon turned to you with an incredulous look on his face. You scratched the back of your neck and looked around the kitchen for a way to escape.
“Y/N, what’s this?” Jihoon asked, amusement laced in his voice.
You tried to find some sort of excuse, but to no avail. “This is just, um- you know, just a, uh, just-” The sound of Jihoon’s cackles interrupted you. You looked at him, unimpressed. “Don’t laugh at me. I was stressing out, okay? I needed something to reassure me.”
Jihoon was grinning wide as he pulled you into a hug, one arm around your waist and one hand on the back of your head. “You’re so adorable,” he mused, pressing a kiss to your hair. You wrapped your arms around his middle and nuzzled your nose against his neck, the comforting scent of his skin making you forget about your embarrassment. 
He leaned away slightly and took the paper off of the fridge, smiling down at it. “As cute as this is, you don’t need it. I’ll show you everyday that I’m the perfect man for you, okay?”
You mirrored his smile. “Okay.” Even when your lips found each other, you couldn’t stop smiling, giggles escaping from your lips into his. You only laughed harder when he started pressing small kisses all over your face, making sure to not miss a single spot. He pressed a final one to your forehead before resting his against it, both of you closing your eyes and relishing in each other’s presence. 
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
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sea-lanterns · 7 months
Text
FRIDAY THE 13TH
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synopsis: (slasher! AU) the camp urban legend is real...?!
featuring: raiden ei
rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)
warnings: sub! afab fem reader, blood, violence, murder, gory descriptions of death, dru.gging, stalking, mentions of child death, mentions of drowning, slow burn, fing.ering, size kink, fondling, ni.pple play, rough se.x, marking, hickies, pwp, might be ooc.
art credits: chainsaw man
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“Legend has it that a camper at Camp Crystal Lake drowned after a couple of counselors left their posts to go make out in their cabins. When the kid drowned, they said her vengeful spirit haunts Camp Crystal Lake, killing horny counselors who abandon their duties to act on their lust, and—”
“Oh shut up, that’s just an urban legend…!”
As your coworkers bickered over the hazy campfire, you speared another marshmallow onto your stick and started roasting the sugary confection in silence. It was the early days of June, cicadas buzzing in the distance as you and a few other adults were hired to work at Camp Crystal Lake as counselors. You were tasked with getting the camp ready before the next group of campers arrived next week, so the camp grounds were mostly empty with the exception of you and your colleagues.
“Hey, hey, you think the legend is real?” One of your friends nudged you, taking a bite out of her s’mores. “Do you think a ghost is really haunting the lake?”
“Of course not.” You chuckled softly, groaning when you saw your marshmallow catch on fire. “It’s probably just a story the owner told us so we don’t abandon our jobs. We’re here to watch the kids, remember? Not have sex with each other.”
“Oh, you’re no fun.” Another guy butts in, smirking and wrapping an arm around you. “The owner isn’t here tonight, so we could all have fun before he gets back.”
You made an annoyed expression when he touched you, slowly prying his arm off and giving him a scowl. “Hands off.” You say with a frown, threatening him to not touch you again.
“Geez, okay…okay…” he quickly retracts his hand, but that arrogant smile is back on his face. “No need to be so bitchy…”
If you could throw a machete at him, you would, but for now all you could do was seethe in silence as you wave your marshmallow around to extinguish the flame. “I think I’m gonna go take a shower,” you say before getting up. “If we stay out any longer, we’ll be drenched in rain. The weather forecast said there was a thunderstorm coming over the area.”
“Yeah yeah…” a lot of your colleagues waved you off and you sighed before packing up your things. No one really listened to what you had to say, and while it did bug you, you knew it would bite them in the ass later when their campfire gets rained on. You left the bustling group to head back to your old, rickety cabin. The camp has definitely seen better days, but you knew better than to complain. So long as you had electricity, some heating, and warm water, you were good to go. 
“Ugh…so sticky…” you mumbled to yourself as you scratched at a mosquito bite you had gotten while outside. The sweat and humidity of being out in the woods was starting to get to you, and you couldn’t wait to take a decent shower the moment you stepped into the bathroom. 
Slowly slipping out of your clothes, you played around with the water temperatures until it was at the perfect temperature for you to get in. As you did however, you began to hear the light pitter patter of rain outside, chuckling to yourself as you imagined the distraught faces of your coworkers yelling in annoyance. ‘That’ll teach ‘em…’ you thought to yourself, squirting some shampoo into your palm. ‘Maybe next time they’ll listen to me when I say it’s gonna rain.’
You heard the distraught screaming of your coworkers in the distance and sighed with the pleasure of knowing you were right. Combing your hands through your scalp, you hummed to yourself before a particularly loud lightning strike boomed across the camp, startling you a bit as it came so suddenly and knocked all the power out.
‘Bzzzt.’
“…Dammit.”
You let out a sigh and quickly washed your head clean before grabbing a towel to dry yourself off. No way in hell were you going to shower in pitch dark blackness. It’s dangerous and plus, you were a little creeped out with being naked and alone in the dark.
“I swear, this camp is on its last wire…” you groaned, fumbling around for some clothes and putting them on as best as you can. You wanted to make sure some of your colleagues were alright and pushed open the door to your main cabin. “Is everyone okay—”
Your eyes widened when you saw that no one else was in your cabin. Your roommates were nowhere to be seen, and you thought they had gone inside already due to the rain. 
“…What the.” You fumbled around towards your backpack and grabbed the spare flashlight you had in there for emergencies. “Guys? You aren’t back yet?”
You flipped the flashlight on and shone it across the room. There weren’t any traces of your roommates even making it back to the cabin. No wet footprints, no shoes by the door, nothing. “Are they seriously still out there?” You groaned, grabbing one of your raincoats and putting it on. “I swear, if I have to be the one to check the power box…”
You frowned and checked outside the window to see if you could find anyone coming back from the lake. When all you saw were the empty campgrounds however, you started getting a bit worried, wondering if something happened to your colleagues while camping out by the lake.
‘Oh god…did someone get injured?’ You couldn’t help but grow curious and swallow any fear you had left, opening the door to head outside, and see if everyone was alright. The air had gone from humid to wet, as your body was instantly pelted with summer rain that had you wincing slightly in disgust. You just showered, and the feeling of going out in humidity again made your skin crawl with discomfort.
“Just a quick check…and then I’ll go back inside…” Your flashlight helped you see through the dark as you made your way down to the campfire by the beach. The flame was long extinguished by the time you got down there, as the only thing left was rising smoke, and a dozen empty chairs.
“…Guys?” The sight of the empty chairs made your skin crawl, taking note of how everyone’s stuff was still left scattered about. “Oh my god…”
You felt goosebumps litter your arms as you slowly shone your flashlight over the shore. It was dead quiet save for your breathing, and you slowly walked closer to the campsite only to stop dead in your tracks.
You wanted to scream. You wanted to scream so bad you couldn’t believe what you saw was real. 
One of your coworkers was lying dead against the shore, her eyes wide open as blood seeped from a wound she acquired on her head. It was a deep, angry red gash that gushed so much blood you couldn’t even recognize her face, some of the rain sliding down her cheeks but unable to wash it fully. 
“Oh…god…” you covered your mouth to keep yourself from screaming. Every instinct in your body told you to cry for help, but knowing that there was an active danger on the campgrounds, you decided to keep silent and quickly hid behind a large bush to stay away from the open. 
‘Crap…crap…crap…’ you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to will away the traumatic sight of your dead colleague. The image of her lifeless eyes making your stomach churn with anxiety as you took heavy breaths to calm yourself down. ‘This isn’t real…this can’t be real…’
You took another quick glance at the body and cursed yourself for looking once again. Your chest hurt from the fear you felt at that very moment, and you decided you had to call the authorities to the camp right away.
Slowly getting up from your hiding spot, you carefully made your way over to the generator building to see if you could fix the power. Since the power was down, you were unable to call the authorities until it somehow came back up again. Unfortunately for you however, you had no time to wait, and had to go manually check it yourself in order to get help. 
‘Why is it always me…’ you winced, hurriedly making your way over to the generators and trying to be as stealthy as possible. After a long trek through the woods, you finally came across the generators’ building in the far back side of the camp, the door cracked open slightly and swaying back and forth in the breeze.
Your heart stopped when you saw that someone had managed to get in, and although the most logical assumption would be that one of your colleagues had gone in to fix the power, you were too scared to check as you wondered if the killer that murdered your friend was in there. ‘I don’t want to take any chances…’ you thought, quickly backing away from the building and deciding to head back to your cabin to barricade yourself in. 
Whatever is happening on camp grounds can be dealt with by the police. You had to get yourself somewhere safe, and although you could always try to run for it, the camp was over ten miles away from the nearest town, a distance you couldn’t possibly cover in the dead of night, under the rain, and only in your PJs…
“I just need to hide until morning…or at least until the rain stops…” you mutter to yourself, finding your way back to your cabin and locking it up once you are safe inside. You decided the best course of action would be to barricade all your furniture against the door and check the bathroom window to see if it was locked. Not wasting another second, you ran over to your dresser and pushed your body up against it, slowly pushing it against the door in hopes of providing a stable barricade.
‘Alright, that should be enough for now…’ you wiped the sweat off your brow and walked over to the bathroom door, twisting the knob to check if the windows were locked. 
“…What the.” The door didn’t budge as you tried to push the door open, something heavy preventing you from opening the door. “Why won’t you…move—!”
With a bang, you shoved the door open, only to let out a shriek of terror as the body of one of your roommates fell out and landed at your feet. Her head had a nasty gash emitting blood from it, and the smell of iron quickly filled your nostrils which caused you to hunch over in nausea. “Oh…oh my god—!” You immediately backed up away from the sight, only to have your back collide with the front of someone very large and very tall…
Upon feeling someone firm right behind you, your entire body froze as fear paralyzed your brain. You could feel it. Someone behind you, someone who was in your cabin the whole time, as you failed to check all closets for the possibility of someone hiding.
“…Crap.” You let out a small squeak and gasped when the person behind you wrapped a broad arm around your waist, encircling you like the prey you were, and making you feel weak and helpless under their grasp. “…Please don’t hurt me, I…I…”
Your eyes widened when you suddenly felt a wet rag cover your mouth, your throat letting out several muffled screams, as the smell of something foreign entered your nose and knocked you out.
The last thing you felt before you blacked, was the feeling of strong arms hoisting you up into the air, and draping you over someone’s broad shoulders…
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You had no idea how much time had passed. Your head was throbbing, and your stomach was doing flips when you finally came to your senses. From what you could feel, you were on some mattress on the ground, located in some abandoned shed, as you realized you were somewhere not in your cabin…
Every inch of your body was sore from the chloroform, your senses all drugged up as you groggily looked around at your surroundings. Your heart nearly stopped when you saw a woman in the corner busy sharpening her machete, her back turned to you as she didn’t notice you waking up from your slumber. You had to get out of here, and if you could somehow sneak by the woman without her noticing, you could try and book it to the next town over, not caring about how long it took.
Taking a shallow breath, you were about to begin sneaking away, when the woman suddenly turned around and made dead eye contact with you.
What the fuck.
Adrenaline coursed through your entire body as you saw the woman’s appearance for the very first time. She was tall, accompanied by an athletic figure that hunched over you in a way that made you feel incredibly weak. What was most noticeable about her however, was the chipped, bloody hockey mask she wore to obscure her identity. Her breathing came out in ragged, heavy pants as she stared at you with the look of a predator ready to take its next prey.
“I…uh…” you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Fingers trembling the longer you stared. “I’m sorry for anything I might’ve done to anger you. I didn’t mean to discover the body…I just…I wanted to be safe…and…”
You squeaked when she leaned closer, her figure towering over yours as you had no choice but to lean back against the bed. She was so, so close, breathing heavily above you as all you could see was her hockey mask and her ridiculously shiny machete. “Ah…I’m sorry…” you meekly said again, tears beginning to spill out of your eyes and leak past your chin. “I don’t want to die now…I didn’t even get to start my job…”
You sniffed and closed your eyes, bracing for the impact of the machete hitting your face, only to grow confused when it never came.
“…Huh?”
Instead, what touched your face was the warm, gentle caress of the killer woman in front of you. Her large, calloused hands moving up to wipe your tears away, as she hushed for you to calm down with that quiet voice of hers.
“…Don’t cry.” She says in a muffled voice, leaning back to grab something from a jar. “Candy.”
She extends her hand out to you and holds out a little wrapped candy for you to take, acting all nonchalant as if she didn’t just brutally massacre your roommate right in front of you.
“…I, uh…”
Sensing your hesitance, the masked woman gently nudged the candy against your cheek. “Candy.” She repeated, tilting her head a little when you didn’t take it. “…Do you not like candy?” 
“Oh. Well…” you were growing confused at the escalating conversation, unsure if this was a trick or some kind of ploy to get you to trust her. “…Thank you?”
In the end, you decided to play along and take the candy offered from her hand. Seeing how you accepted her gift, she nodded and reached over to pat your head like a little puppy, clearly happy with the way you allowed her to treat you. Now that you are no longer crying, the masked killer stands up and goes back to sharpening her machete, leaving you alone and puzzling you once more with how gentle she was being in comparison to the other people. 
I mean, just a few hours ago she had brutally murdered most —if not all— your coworkers in the camp you were supposed to work at. How is it that she was being so gentle with you now? Was there something special to you that made her become so lenient? 
“…” A deft silence overcame the two of you and you had no choice but to look around the shed in curiosity. Noticing a faded newspaper by your feet, you reached down to pick it up and read the blaring headline on the front.
“Kid drowns at Camp Crystal Lake due to negligent counselors.”
Your eyes widen slightly once you read it, your coworker’s faint recalling of the urban legend playing back on your mind. 
“A girl identified as Raiden Makoto was found dead after she drowned in Camp Crystal Lake waters. No lifeguards or counselors were seen at the time of the drowning, and she was confirmed dead due to negligence of Camp Crystal Lake staff.”
Besides the text was a faded photo of a young girl with long, purple, braided hair. She smiled so beautifully at the camera, so youthful and innocent. Her death was so abrupt, and you couldn’t help but feel bad as you realized the supposed urban legend was actually true.
…However, the longer you stared at the faded photo, the more you began to realize how similar she looked to the masked woman in front of you. That long, purple, braided hair matched the hair of the woman sharpening her machete, and you swallowed in realization of the discovery you had just made. 
“You’re…the kid who drowned all those years ago.” You say softly, looking up at the woman. “You’re Raiden Makoto.”
You could visibly see the woman tense up, slowly turning around to face you. With a few heavy footsteps, she walks over to you once more and shakes her head no, pointing at the girl in the photo.
“My sister.” Is all she says, looking down at you with that solemn expression.
“…Your sister?” Your eyes lit up and you suddenly felt a wave of guilt. “I’m…I’m so sorry for your loss.”
The woman in front of you tilted her head slightly, as if comprehending the fact you actually felt sorry for her. “…It’s okay.” She says calmly, patting your head once more and taking the newspaper from your hands. “I got my revenge.”
Your eyes lit up when she said that, and the pieces slowly fell into place. 
“…So, that’s why you’ve been killing my coworkers.” Your breath trembled as full realization came to your senses. “You’ve been killing all the counselors at Camp Crystal Lake…for your sister…”
The masked woman nods slowly and kneels down in front of you so she could be eye level with your face. Your sense of fear was slowly dying down, and you couldn’t help but think the woman was a bit cute with the way she was presenting herself in front of you. “…Is there a reason you haven’t killed me?” You ask softly, keeping a level tone so you wouldn’t startle her. 
The woman nods once more, patting your head and lowering her gaze.
“You are nice.” She says calmly, rubbing the top of your head with her palm, “And responsible…and pretty…”
Your cheeks flushed a little when she called you pretty. 
“You think I’m pretty?” You asked gently.
The woman nods.
“Oh…” your face burns hotter at the compliment and you couldn’t help but smile slightly. “What’s your name, if I may ask?” 
“…Ei.” She says quietly, almost a bit hesitant with the way she paused. “Raiden Ei.”
“Ei…” the way you said her name sent shivers down her spine. The fact that her name was being uttered by a beautiful girl like you was enough to get the killer to swoon. “I like that name.”
Ei looked up at you with the most adoring of eyes. Even though her hockey mask covered up most of her expressions, you could tell you hit a soft spot with the way she looked at you with such loving eyes. 
“I like you.” She says calmly, leaning down to stare at you a bit closer, almost towering over you to the point she was pinning you to the bed. “…You are…sweet. Like candy.”
You unconsciously let out a small giggle at her words. Somehow you had forgotten she was an insane, brutal serial killer, but all that melted away with the way she looked at you so lovingly. “Can I…see your face?” You asked tenderly, hesitantly reaching a hand up to caress her blood-stained mask. Ei flinched a little when she felt you reaching for her mask, as she had never let anyone get so close to her without dying. She looked conflicted, silently panicking on what to do as she didn’t want to horrify you with her face and scare you off. 
Sensing her hesitance, you smiled comfortingly and cupped her mask. “I won’t judge you,” you say calmly, trying to soothe the woman’s fears and insecurities. “If you aren’t comfortable, I won’t pry it off you.”
As you moved your hand away however, you suddenly felt Ei’s hand wrap around yours, almost begging for you to come back. 
“W-Wait…” her voice cracked slightly and she shyly moves your hand back to rest on her mask. “I want…I want to…”
You blush at the way she’s calling for you, shakily moving your other hand to grasp at the back of her mask. Your breathing was quick and shallow, the position between you two a lot more intimate than what you were used to. “O…Okay…”
With a steady hand, you unclasped the back of her hockey mask and watched as it gently fell from her face. A gasp caught itself in your throat, as you admired the slasher’s face in all its bare beauty. 
Ei was beautiful. 
“You’re…quite the sight,” you chuckle softly, admiring the way her facial features glistened from the window of the shed. “Have you…never seen yourself before?”
Ei shakes her head no.
“That’s a shame.” You smile softly, reaching up to caress the surprisingly soft skin of her cheek. “You’re beautiful.”
Her breath hitches when you call her beautiful, and Ei can’t help but be drawn closer to you with the way you allured her. She had always admired you from afar when she was plotting your coworkers’ downfall, and to have you sitting there right in front of her was just too tempting to resist. 
Like a magnet, Ei takes a deep breath before slowly moving in to brush her lips against your face. When she sees you flinch but not back away, she takes it as a sign to keep going, wrapping a strong arm around your waist before slowly inching forward to claim what she desires.
She kisses you. Gently so while keeping you pressed firmly against her body with her strength, almost as if she were scared of letting you go. You were definitely surprised to say the least, the tall woman’s lips pushing roughly against you until you lost balance and fell over onto the bed. As your back hit the soft plushness of the mattress, Ei let out a small groan and climbed on top of you to continue kissing you, sloppily trying to slip her tongue in to taste you, before getting playfully pushed away by your soft little palms. 
“Hey, hey…” you chuckled softly, watching as her face scrunched up in confusion. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”
Ei bites her lip for a moment and hesitantly shakes her head no, causing you to stifle a laugh from your lips. “Pfft…don’t worry, I’ll show you,” you say reassuringly, holding onto one of her hands and cupping her fingers tenderly. “These are what you’ll be using most of the time when pleasing another woman.” You explain, running your fingers up and down hers. You took notice of how rough and calloused they were from working out in the woods, not to mention how big her fingers were compared to yours, as you couldn’t help but imagine her stuffing each wide digit inside you. 
‘That’s gonna need some prep…’ you thought to yourself, slowly moving her hand down so she could cup your breast. “Here. You want to do some foreplay on a woman before doing anything super intimate with her. Foreplay is important, as it— ahh…!”
Ei suddenly gave your breast a squeeze and started fondling it like instinct. If this was her first time being with a woman, you couldn’t tell, because she had already stuffed her hands under your shirt and started fondling you through the confines of your bra. 
“Haah…wait—!” You couldn’t help but let out a groan when she eagerly slid her hands under your bra, calloused fingers rubbing harshly against the sensitive buds of your nipples and twisting them in ways that had you gripping at her back. “I think…I can figure it out.” Was all Ei said before smirking down at you with confidence. That facade of acting all cute in front of you now long gone, as she was determined to wreck you on this little mattress of hers.
“W-Wait—! There’s no need to be so ro— mhnnn…!” Your head lolled back in pleasure when Ei suddenly yanked your shirt up and pulled your bra top down. Rough hands engulfing your chest to give it a firm squeeze, and pinning you down to the mattress with little to no effort. 
“Can I…Can I keep going?” Ei asks softly, a sharp contrast to the way she was brutally manhandling your tits. 
“You…nngh…I guess so…” you pathetically whimpered out, still in shock with how she managed to flip the roles so easily. 
At your approval, Ei nods and moves her head down to begin suckling dark hickies all over your stomach, tongue lapping over the smooth surface of your belly and making you whine with how rough she was treating you. It didn’t hurt by any means necessary, but you did feel your mind slowly break into submission for letting Ei use you as she pleased. ‘Crap…she’s so rough…’ you couldn’t help but think, letting out another whine when her hands suddenly gripped your thighs. 
“I need…I need more…” you hear Ei groan, practically growling into your ear before tugging at your shorts. “Can I pull them off? Please, please?”
She was almost grunting in your ear with how bad she wanted you, burying her face against your neck like a dog in heat. You couldn’t bring yourself to ever say no to her, so you nodded enthusiastically before cupping her face. “Go ahead, Ei. I’m all yours…just be gentle…”
Oh the look on Ei’s face when you told her you were hers. It was like a primal desire had awakened in her, as she tore off your shorts with little to no effort and hoisted your legs up to saddle around her shoulders. You let out a yelp when you felt her rip your shorts so violently, and you couldn’t help but whine to her since they were your favorite shorts.
“Ei…!” 
“I’ll…find you some new ones.”
She was clearly distracted with the way her eyes landed on your panties, licking her lips at the sight before looking up at you for one last request of permission. 
“May I…?” She asks quietly, the hunger glowing in her eyes with the way she so desperately wanted to devour you. 
“…Of course.” You say softly, taking a breather and lying back against the mattress. “Just promise to go slow, you have wide fingers…”
Ei smiles at this compliment before moving down to slide your panties up until they dangle at the ankle of your leg. Her mouth instantly waters at the sight of your exposed cunt, and she has to stop herself from just plunging her fingers inside you to feel how tight you’d be around her. 
‘Slow…’ she has to remind herself, pressing a large thumb over your clit. ‘Slow…’
She catches the way your lips part when she presses over your clit, and Ei can’t help but groan at the sight. She stares at the way your essence begins dripping out of your hole, and the more she plays with you, the more slick your pussy gets while she spreads your lower lips open. 
“Pretty…” you head Ei mumble, before gently easing one of her wide fingers inside you. “And t-tight…” She whimpers a little when she feels you squeeze so wonderfully around her, her groans growing more shallow as she eases her way inside of you. 
Ei’s fingers were wide, but definitely not as wide as you thought as one finger alone was enough to stretch you pretty far. Your hands were left clinging desperately to the woman’s broad shoulders, taking in sharp breaths to accommodate the large stretch of her giant fingers fucking you raw. “Ei…” you breathed out softly, burying your face into the skin of her neck, “Slower…please…”
Ei couldn’t help but pout a little at your words. Slower? You wanted her to go even slower? She wanted to fuck you as rough as she could, but she understood that a human as delicate as you needed some time to adjust to something of her size.
“Oh…okay…” Ei says softly, going at a much slower pace until she feels you growing more relaxed. “Is this good?”
You let out a few pleasured sighs of ecstasy, and nodded your head to show how good she was making you feel. “Yes, Ei.” You whispered softly, letting out a small moan when the tip of her finger pushed up against a certain spot. “This is good.”
Feeling proud of herself, Ei continues until she feels you are wet enough and decides to push a second finger in to see if you could take two at the same time. 
You could. And with the added pressure of a wider girth expanding your walls, you couldn’t help but buckle your knees and cling onto Ei more tightly. “Goodness, Ei,” you breathed out heavily, watching as her thick fingers sunk deep into you with every thrust and bounce, “For someone who hasn’t done this before, you certainly learn quickly…”
Ei smiles proudly when you compliment her sex skills, and decides to push her luck by shoving a third wide finger to see how much you could take. 
The moment you feel an added width to your already large pair of fingers, you feel your senses go into overdrive as she begins pounding all three fingers as deep as they could go. 
“E-Ei! Ei w-wait—!” You let out a whine as she continues fucking you with no other care in the world. While Ei definitely tried to go as slow as she could to appease your sensitivity, she eventually caved to her own carnal instincts and resorted to fucking you wild like a dog in heat. 
“Nngh…hnn…” With each wet thrust, Ei let out a grunt that had you dripping over the mattress, the palm of her hand slapping against your ass, as she brought you closer and closer to your impending orgasm. “Please be close…please…please…”
She moves her fingers harder against your cunt, before feeling you tense up around her fingers and cream all over her hand. The moans you let out were simply delectable, and Ei couldn’t help but groan in her own world of pleasure before pulling her fingers out to have a taste. 
As you recover from the intense orgasm you just had, Ei sticks her fingers into her mouth and licks your cum off her digits. The sight of such a tall, dangerous woman seductively sucking your cum off her fingers had you dripping wet once more, whining at the sight of her humming in pleasure before leaning down to kiss you. 
“Tasty…” Ei murmurs against your lips, the tall woman gripping your waist and pulling you down so that she was spooning you from behind. “You taste so good…”
You tried catching your breath as she wraps her arms around you and plants sweet kisses against the back of your head. The adrenaline and fatigue of tonight having finally caught up with you as you slowly felt your eyes drift close in the comfort of your new lover’s arms. 
“Are you…going to stay with me now…?” Ei asks softly, brushing your hair back and staring at you with the sweetest of eyes. You gazed up at her with a half lidded smile, the deaths of your coworkers no longer a matter to you as you only needed Ei in your life and Ei alone. 
“I’ll stay.” You say sleepily, enjoying the way Ei held onto you and snuggled you deeper against her chest. “Don’t worry, I’m not leaving anytime soon.”
Ei smiled at this and took a deep breath, taking in the scent of your recently shampooed hair, before closing her eyes and mumbling. 
“Good.”
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745 notes · View notes
women-are-hot · 10 months
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INSTAGRAM LIVE • A. PUTELLAS
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request: “I can ask that the reader and Alex do a live together and Alexia looks at the reader with loving eyes and answers questions together all with cuteness.”
pairings: alexia putellas x fem!reader.
genre: pure fluff.
word count: 1.3k
warnings: just alexia and you being so in love that it makes fans sick lol.
note: this was in my drafts, so decided to edit it and post it for y’all. hope you like the small surprise fic <3
you were just casually laying with your head on alexia’s lap while she ran her fingers through your hair. it was your favorite thing to do when you had time. laying with your girlfriend and her running her fingers through your hair.
just when you had fallen asleep, alexia decided to wake you up by caressing your cheek. “mi amor” she whispered, but enough for you to hear. you hummed a ‘yes’ into her stomach, wanting her to continue running her fingers through your hair.
“should we go live on my instagram?” alexia asked you, making you rub your eyes and sit up on the couch beside alexia with your head still on her shoulder. “do you even know what you’re talking about la reina?” you teased her which earned you a light flick by her finger on your forehead.
you fake gasped, but the gasp was quickly wiped away when alexia kissed your forehead, then your nose and lastly, a passionate kiss on your lips. “you’re forgiven” you said with a smile.
“yeah, i know” alexia responded with a cheeky smile, making you roll your eyes at her.
“anyway, should we go live on instagram?” alexia asked, repeating her question. “si. it would be fun, but i won’t help you with anything. you have to figure it out yourself” you answered, trying not to laugh as you knew alexia wasn’t the best at instagram yet even if she tried a lot, especially after getting so many followers. 
“mi amor-” alexia started complaining, but you responded with a simple ‘no’. after more complaints from your girlfriend, you two agreed that if she made everything a very big disaster, you would eventually help her.  
alexia also decided that she should do a quick story before going live, so her fans would be ready to watch the two of you and send questions. “i want you to be in it too” alexia said and literally took her arm around your waist, dragging you into her without any warning, but you couldn’t complain as she started the video. 
“hola everyone. y/n and i are going live here on instagram in a few minutes, so we hope y’all will come and ask us questions and hang out. adios, see you soon!” alexia announced while you just stared at her with a big smile. what did you do to deserve her?
“you’re so cute!” you mumbled into her shoulder, still with a big smile on your face. “qué? why?” alexia asked, worried that she said something wrong as english isn’t her first language. 
“calm down babe. you didn’t say anything wrong. you just sounded so cute while talking english in your hot spanish accent” you answered as you tried to cheer up your worried girlfriend. she always get so worried about saying something wrong in english. 
“my hot spanish accent?” alexia mumbled confused at you. you just gave her your usually cute little smile with a simple nod. “you really think my accent is hot?” alexia asked as if she was surprised.
“ale, everything about you is hot” you answered in a low voice, failing to keep a shy smile off your face. alexia’s confused look was now replaced with a smirk, looking you right in the eyes, almost making you weak.
“is that so?” alexia asked while you just nodded as you looked down at your feet, feeling alexia’s eyes burn through you. alexia then took her finger under your chin, making you look back up at her. 
she then smashed her lips into your in a slow and passionate kiss. just as you had started kissing her back, she stopped kissing you and walked away. “what the- ale, where are you going?” you yelled at her. 
“i’m just going to make us some iced coffees before we go live. that is okay right miss y/l?” alexia asked in a teasing tone while you just huffed at her with an annoyed face, sitting down on the couch with your phone, posting alexia’s story on your profile. 
after eight minutes, alexia was back with two iced coffees and ready to go live. she opened her phone and started the live with 35,000 people already watching. alexia just somehow didn’t know that. 
“do i have something in my teeth?” alexia asked, putting her face close to the camera, finally making you crack a big laugh. “why’re you laughing?” she asked and after wiping your tears from your laughs, you answered her. “do you know that 35.000 people just heard and saw that?” 
“huh? are we already live?” alexia asked. you just slightly nodded, before going into another laughing attack full of tears. “why didn’t you tell me, idiota?” she mumbled with a frown.
“i told you that you had to figure all of this out yourself” you said with a big smile. “you’re annoying” she said. “but you love me” you responded with an even bigger smile that even alexia couldn’t resist as she started to smile herself a bit.
“i really don’t know anymore to be honest” alexia mumbled, but you could still hear it, making you hit her shoulder. “woahhh. that hurt so much” alexia said in sarcasm while you just rolled your eyes at her.
“save that for later mi amor” alexia whispered into your ear, making you blush a bit, but enough for the fans to see it.
@ alexia4ever - what did alexia just say to make y/n blush like that?
@ putellasluv11 - you guys are really making me feel so single
@ aleandynschild - cutest couple ever! literally my parents!
“alright, we thought we could answer some questions, so ask a few things and we’ll try to answer as best as we can” alexia explained with a tomato colored head beside her. then questions started flowing in.
“what’s the best thing about living and playing in barca?” alexia readed out loud. “you should answer that, amor” alexia said, putting her arm around your shoulder, pulling you even closer.
“well, there’s quite a few things, but first of all, the sunny weather is amazing, especially when you come from Sweden or the nordic countries in general” you started while alexia chuckled a bit at you and looked at you with what the fans called ‘heart eyes’.
“of course there’s more than amazing weather! barcelona has always been my dream club to play for as my parents always cheered for them, making me a fan automatically. so when i got the offer to play for barca, i was so excited and of course couldn’t say no to such a big offer. the club just means so much to me and i’m so grateful for all of my teammates that i get to call my friends. and of course, there’s la reina de barca, alexia putellas. my best friend and other half” you rambled, leaning into alexia during the last sentence. 
“so yeah, basically everything about living and playing in barca is the best thing” you added, looking up at your girlfriend as she always looked down at you with a big smile. “am i talking too much?” you asked her. 
“no. tu respuesta fue perfecta, mi amor” alexia answered, taking some of your hair behind your hair, giving your head a kiss, making fans feel very single again. after that little sweet moment, the two of you went back to answering questions for about an hour and a half while making fans awe over your relationship.
@ ynputellas0 - the way y/n was talking about barca and alexia was so cute, i can’t
@ alexiabiggestfan - alexia is being a romantic girlfriend ulalalala
@ lareinaaayn - i’m literally so in love with both of them
@ alelovesyn - alexia’s heart eyes for y/n are just so cute. i want what they have!
772 notes · View notes
soobnny · 1 year
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eighteen — kim seungmin.
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trope. best friends to lovers. college au. slow burn. angst. fluff.
synopsis. it takes you a while to realize being known is being loved, and kim seungmin just so happens to be an expert in the study of you.
word count: 19.8k words
warnings. just extreme slow burn. some curse words. sexual jokes. drinking and being intoxicated. 
note. again my self indulgent take on seungmin in college :)
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one.
Kim Seungmin has a habit of blowing up your phone every chance he gets. So, it really isn’t anything new to wake up to a million notifications from your best friend.
The range of apps from which he bothers you is astronomical.
(Instagram): _seungmin mentioned you in a comment: @ynbread lmao this video reminded me of u cos ure an idiot
(Tiktok): seungmin mentioned you in a comment: @ynbread us
(Twitter): seungmin replied to your tweet: I’m hungry can u reply to my messages
But nothing, absolutely nothing, can beat the 56 messages and 9 missed calls on your phone. You’d think it was an emergency if not for his last message, shining brightly through your screen.
minnie: i need a new face wash come with me so i can shut up about it 😡
You roll your eyes to yourself, skimming through the notifications on your lock screen without really opening them. It’s mostly just a series of Seungmin asking you if you were awake every hour with a few whining in between about how he’s bored and how you need to wake up. 
While you’re laughing at his overdramatic messages (has he been hanging out with Hyunjin too much these days?), you accidentally unleash a storm upon yourself.
You hadn’t meant to click on one of the notifications, and now a taunting “read” is on the bottom of his messages.
Big mistake.
All hell is about to break lose.
The moment Kim Seungmin receives the small indication that you’re finally awake, his face flashes on your screen almost immediately in a Facetime call. It’s tempting to decline his call in favor of burying your face back into your pillows, but the clock reads 11am and you have an annoying best friend that needs your attention. You know never to ignore Seungmin. You’ve learned that the hard way.
Swiping on accept, his head of fluffy hair pops up on your screen. “Finally! What took you so long?” His phone angle shifts so his face shows now – it seems like he’s outside as he’s looking left and right before crossing somewhere. 
“Sleeping.” You rub your eyes, propping your phone against a box of tissues so he can see you while you fix your bed. 
“Didn’t wanna wake up cause you were dreaming of me?” You can hear the laughter in his voice.
Appropriately, you respond by gifting him your middle finger. “You wish.”
“Did you sleep well?” You hum in response even though you doubt he could hear you amidst the noise outside and the shuffling of your bedsheets. “What did you need?” You grab your phone from your nightstand, walking towards your refrigerator to get a glass of water. 
“Face wash. You’re coming with me. Oh, and bring an umbrella, it’s drizzling a little.”
“Gonna have to raincheck.”
Second big mistake.
“Why?” He drawls his question, whining and pushing his phone deeper towards his face so you can see his visible disapproval at your response.
“Seungmin, I just woke up. It’s gonna take me forever to get ready, and you’re already outside.” 
There’s a lack of response from his end after a few seconds. When you look back at your phone screen, he seems preoccupied. “Minnie?” 
“Wait, wait. I have to hang up, give me a second.”
You tilt your head in confusion, but you don’t say anything else. This was a rare moment when you got to escape from Seungmin’s evil clutches of always dragging you along when he goes out. Looking through your closet for a change of clothes after you shower, you jump at the sudden and very rushed pounding on your door.
You should’ve known better.
Opening the door, a breathless Seungmin slips past the space before pushing your door closed. “Why was Crazy Karen on shift today?” He falls face first on your couch, still heaving after the cardio he’d done to sprint towards your unit. 
Seungmin’s been quite the expert at sneaking into your very ‘strict with visitors’ building. Not only has he befriended Derek (the security guard on duty when it wasn’t Karen), he’s gone through every possible entrance and has mastered the way to your door. He’s been doing it for the past three years, to the point you’re convinced he could navigate his way around blindfolded. 
Funnily enough, he was basically a criminal in your building. Karen (Crazy Karen, as Seungmin likes to call her) has been trying to catch him for forever. You’re convinced that one more push from Seungmin and she’d be printing flyers with his face on it with a clear “BANNED” message in red bold font and taping it on the walls of your building. 
Seungmin’s been able to escape her for months now. Though, despite being an expert vigilante, he still has his lapses. And today, he hadn’t been aware that Karen was on duty. “(Name), she hates me!” 
“She hates everyone.” You deadpan. Seungmin’s always found it disturbing that Karen didn’t like him. He was an angel in everyone’s eyes – your parents, Derek the security guard, your professors, your friends. If only they knew better. 
With the thousands of people that adore him, Seungmin doesn’t know why Karen was such a tough egg to crack. Maybe she knew better, that your best friend is the devil incarnate, but the devil incarnate that you adore. 
“How’d you get here so quickly? Wait… were you already on your way here before I picked up your call?” You ask pointedly, leaning against the wall and furrowing your eyebrows at Seungmin who still hasn’t left your couch, instead making himself comfortable by draping his legs across the armrest and hugging your throw pillow to his chest.
“Yes, cause you were ignoring me!” The pout on his face is so exaggerated, you would’ve smacked it off if you didn’t have the biggest crush on him.
“I wasn’t ignoring you. I was sleeping!”
“Tomato, tomato. Same thing.” 
You concede the argument with a sigh because God forbid he lost an argument to you. “Anyways, (name).” He’s whining again, staring at you while you skim through your clothes. “I’m so hungry, I could eat your couch.”
“You do you, I guess.” 
“Do you hate me?”
“Only sometimes.” 
This was the funny thing about your friendship with Seungmin. From an outsider’s perspective, they would’ve sworn you two disliked each other – from your pointed responses and backhanded comments towards one another. However, through the lens of your shared friends, they knew you completed each other. Nobody (aside from Minho, and occasionally Jeongin) could match your best friend’s personality quite well, and absolutely nobody could get him as soft as you could. It’s reserved for your eyes only.
Chan jokes around that Seungmin should never drive you away because he’s finally found someone who gets along with him terribly well aside from them. He agrees, but he would never outwardly admit it out loud to his friends or to you. But deep down, he knows that you two understand every inch of each other like you’re a reflection of one another.
With that said, he wouldn’t want to spend his time buying face wash with anyone else. 
When he suddenly gets off the couch, you look at him suspiciously. He’s walking in your direction now, beaming with his eyes squinting and lips curving up and hair falling perfectly on his forehead – he looks so cute that your heart starts feeling something you can’t quite identify. “(Name).” 
“Seungmin.” He grabs your hands without warning and your heart catapults out of your chest.  
“Come with me to buy face wash and we can eat lunch together. Please please, cause I’m your best friend and you can’t say no to me.” Seungmin defends his case like a lawyer desperate to win. 
He leans in impossibly closer to your face as a vindictive tactic to get you to say yes, and you’re embarrassed to admit it’s working. You tell yourself you’re only agreeing so he would stop fiddling with your fingers with his perfectly crafted hands and looking at you with his stupid, pretty eyes. 
“Fine, now let go of me so I can get a change of clothes. Besides, aren’t you like the number one Touch Hater anyway?”
Seungmin smiles triumphantly to himself, slipping his hands from yours. “How narcissistic of you to think you’re the only one I enjoy holding. I like Kkami too! And Soonie, and Doongie–”
“Why am I being classified with your friends’ pets?” 
Kim Seungmin doesn’t admit that you’re the only person he likes to hold. Instead, he shrugs and pushes you towards your bathroom so you could hurry up and he can finally buy his face wash. 
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two.
The next time Kim Seungmin blows up your notifications is after you’ve just finished your last class of the week.
He’s already waiting for you outside your building, leaning against a lamp post and scrolling through dog videos on Tiktok with a few quokka appearances.
The algorithm confuses Seungmin in that it’s so fast to pick up the videos you’ve liked – even if it was just one. He’s pretty sure he’s only getting these rather abundant quokka videos because Jisung had borrowed his phone once and probably liked a Tiktok. Now it’s everywhere to the point that Seungmin could probably tell you at least 5 facts about them.  
He’s been standing there for a good 10 minutes now. He has given up on texting you to ask when your classes end (he reasons your professor must have overtime again), instead just adding a shit ton of videos to his “dog” collection on Tiktok.
When you exit the building with some of your blockmates, you feel your heartbeat pick up its pace at the sight of Seungmin in his oversized gray Dodgers hoodie (one of your personal favorites to steal) and some light washed pants with his cute smile and messy hair.
He looks a little embarrassed, as if he wants the earth to swallow him up right then and there. You suppose it’s because he’s been standing there awkwardly, having to look at people in the passing while waiting for you.
Once you appear though, the embarrassment fizzles away and Seungmin is making his way towards you with his hands buried deep in the pockets of his hoodie.
“One more overtime and I’m gonna have to report that professor.”
“You’re just saying that cause you’re impatient and you hate having to wait for five minutes.”
“10 minutes. I waited ten minutes today.” You laugh at the boy, attention wavering when your friends bid their goodbyes to you and Seungmin. You wave politely, and Seungmin mimics you, smiling sheepishly and waving back.
You know they’re tripping over themselves after Seungmin smiles and waves back at them. You’ve been told multiple times by your blockmates that your best friend looks like a walking dream – the campus crush from the International Law and Legal Studies building.
You don’t disagree, it’s not exactly like you were blind. Every time you’d walk with Seungmin anywhere, he was bound to get some attention from the people around you.
There are multiple admirers lining up for your best friend, shaking as they make their way up to him just to say ‘hi’ or purposely standing near him during college events. It also doesn’t help that his whole friend group were the campus crush from their respective majors.
Too bad for your blockmates and the multiple people lining up willing to donate their kidneys though. Seungmin doesn’t care much about anything and anyone outside his carefully selected circle.
He’s polite, smiling back and waving and holding small conversations but there’s always a hint of disinterest when they’d try to keep the conversation longer than he’d like. He isn’t stupid and knows there’s always an ulterior motive to get with him. He knows how easy it is to mistake politeness for interest.
“Come on, I want coffee.” How demonic is it to have a friend who’s convinced he’s Bill Gates’ son with the amount of times he’s asked you to eat out.
Seungmin pushes you forward by placing a hand on the small of your back, his other hand clutching his messenger bag, guiding you to walk ahead along the sidewalks of your university.
He makes sure you’re on the safer side of the road, bumping you to move to the side.
You stop in your tracks, shaking your head at the boy and he looks at you with utter confusion. “I’m not coming with you to buy overpriced coffee. I’ve used up all my allowance for the week.”
“Waited for you for ten minutes just to be rejected. Ouch.”
“Sucks to be you.”
You’re about to say your goodbye to your best friend, heels shifting to walk the other way when his hand easily wraps around your wrist, pulling you back to where he’s stood. You slap his hand away, pointing an accusatory finger at his direction. “You are not gonna convince me. Not again.”
Screw him and his large hands and how easy it is for him to maneuver them back around your wrist to keep you in place. “I’ll pay, just come with me.”
You surrender in an instant. Who were you to pass on free coffee?
Seungmin smiles victoriously when you start walking by his side again before his face falls in a pout, going off in a tangent about how you’re only willing to hangout with him if he’s paying and how he’s too young to be your sugar daddy.
You sigh in relief when you reach the campus coffee shop, the strong aroma of coffee immediately filling your senses as Seungmin breathes out in delight.
Going straight to the counter, he orders himself an Iced Americano before turning to look at you. “Just the usual?” You nod your head, moving away to find a seat for the both of you.
Every time you’re in a coffee shop (which is, a lot), you’re reminded of the first time you met Seungmin.
He was working part time at a coffee shop, trying to save some money for college and you were merely a customer. He had accidentally knocked the - thankfully, cold - coffee all over you. In compensation, he begs for your order again so he could make it for free.
He still knows your coffee order by heart up until today.
Taking both of your orders, Seungmin moves to settle back to wherever you’re seated when he spots Jisung and Changbin sitting at your table as well.
He should’ve known they’d be here today – they practically lived on coffee. Seungmin supposes this is what double majoring in Music Management and with Music Theory and Composition looks like.
“Not you two again.” Seungmin fakes exasperation, standing by Jisung who’s seated next to you before shooing him away, claiming that Jisung was in his spot. Jisung simply smirks knowingly before shuffling towards the seat next to Changbin.
“So, I have a funny story.” When Changbin speaks up, Jisung is quick to clasp a hand over his mouth.
“We don’t have a funny story.” He counters Changbin’s claim pointedly, shaking his head and glaring at his best friend.
But who could open up a topic and not proceed around Seungmin? He’ll pull up every piece of blackmail he has on his phone, appropriately labeled “to use against friends” and start threatening you. Absolutely no one can escape Seungmin, and that’s how you find Changbin telling the story of how someone had kissed Jisung and when she pulled away, all he did was say “thank you”.
“Who says that after kissing someone?” Your laughter triggers a smile on Seungmin’s face, too busy observing you to make fun of Jisung. He’ll save that for later when you walk home together. For now, the sight of you laughing is too enchanting to look away from.
Jisung, on the other hand, ignores your question. He’s already embarrassed enough.
“I don’t know! I was nervous! My brain doesn’t work sometimes, you know?” Jisung’s running his hand through his hair in frustration, desperately trying to defend himself, hands moving inanimately while speaking.
“Your brain doesn’t work all the time.” Seungmin retorts and the boy pouts at his younger friend.
“Can we talk about something else?”
You, in fact, do not talk about anything else much to Jisung’s dismay. On your way back home, Changbin brings it up again after jokingly kissing Jisung’s cheek and saying “thank you” right after.  
A heavy arm swings around your shoulder, Seungmin pulling you towards him as he lets his other friends be with their teasing. You look up at your best friend, shifting your attention back to the ground when you meet his gaze.
You’re walking slightly ahead of the two boys, and Seungmin’s just asking you how your day was. He always does this. Every time he walks you back to your building, he’d always ask how your day went.
This might have stemmed from your first and only huge argument – when you kept your feelings to yourself because you didn’t want to be a bother to him. Seungmin’s made sure to create a comfortable space for you to vent to him ever since.
When you talk, Seungmin listens attentively. You don’t know if you love or hate it. It’s a little difficult to recount what happened in your day when he’s looking at you like that. Seungmin may tease you a lot, but you know he cares a lot and one of his ways of showing that is by listening to you.
Your quiet conversation is cut short when the two boys catch up with you, Jisung’s eyes narrow at Seungmin while he walks backward so he’s in front of Seungmin. “How come you like touching (name) and not us?”
“Don’t say it like that, you sound like a perv.” Changbin smacks the back of his head and Jisung giggles when his choice of words dawn on him.
“Sorry. I mean, how come you’re not disgusted to initiate physical contact with her! What about me?”
(Because I like her, Seungmin thinks but doesn’t actually say).
Instead, Seungmin smirks, keeping his arm around you before teasing his older friend. “Aw, is our Jisung getting jealous? Don’t worry, I’ll hold your hand once we drop (name) off.”
“Actually?” Jisung beams at what Seungmin says and he halts his steps, instead walking forward with his hand outstretched towards where Seungmin’s standing.
“No, fuck off! I was kidding!” You laugh when Seungmin detaches himself from you so he can properly run away from Jisung who’s desperate to hold the young boy’s hand.
It’s in moments like these, when the feeling of his arm around your shoulder still lingers, and Jisung’s words echo in your head (why does he only hold you?), and Changbin’s nudging your side knowingly, that makes you think.
Could you possibly mean something more to Seungmin? The way that he means to you?
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three.
Apart from your notifications, Kim Seungmin has a habit of blowing up your ears. 
You hear him before you see him. Winter seems startled at the sudden screech of your name from the other side of the street, laughing quietly to herself when she spots Seungmin running at you in full speed. She pays no mind when Seungmin latches himself around you, waving at her after finding a comfortable spot to rest his chin (on top of your head). 
“That felt like it came out of a movie.”
You’re still waiting for your food with Winter by the food truck. Seungmin doesn’t seem to mind the wait. Despite learning over the years that he was impatient and usually annoyed at anyone and everything that made him wait, he’s also come to realize that he doesn’t mind the wait when it comes to you. Why else would he wait for you despite your professor being well known for always going past his allotted time? 
He couldn’t do that for anyone else. 
“What are your plans after here?” Seungmin directs the question towards the both of you, slowly unhooking himself from around you to look at the menu of the food truck. 
“Might go to the mall and buy some airpods.” Winter mumbles, pulling her bucket hat down in embarrassment as Seungmin stares at her in disbelief. “Wow. You said that as if you’re just buying a pencil or something.”
“No! What happened is that… I thought I left my airpods in my mom’s car. But look at this.” She pulls out her phone, showing the notification that said ‘French fries (the name of her airpods) is far from the user’. “So I think I must’ve left it on the plane when I was coming back here from the academic break.” 
Winter’s pouting now at the thought of her upcoming big purchase. “I can’t survive without them. How am I supposed to tune everyone out?” 
“Order for Winter.” The conversation is cut abruptly by the man at the food truck with your orders. You break out in a smile at the sight of the food, taking it from Winter and whispering a quick ‘thank you’. 
“Spending money is so easy, but saving feels like a war.” Winter adds before she smells her food, mirroring the smile on your face and taking a bite out of the hard-shell taco she ordered. Seungmin looks around for a place to sit, spotting a bench not too far. “Come on, you girls need to sit.”
Ever the gentleman, Seungmin carries your drinks for you while you eat your food and walk to the bench he had spotted. Taking your seats, Winter pats your thigh and nods her head. “You got yourself a good one. I approve.” 
You’re confused for a moment before you feel the heat creep up from your neck to your entire face. Thank God Seungmin didn’t hear Winter implying that she approved of him as your boyfriend. If he did, he pretended not to hear.
However, he isn’t blind and can see your impossibly red face in abruptness.
“Woah, do you need something to drink?” He grabs his water bottle from his bag, unscrewing the cap and nudging it to your general direction. You gratefully take it from him, chugging down his water to try and cool yourself down. Winter all but giggles, pretending she didn’t almost trigger you to choke down on your food. 
The next few minutes are spent in silence with you and Winter savoring your food and Seungmin scrolling through his phone to check if he had any deadlines he missed. One of his hands rests naturally on your thigh, as if it was the most normal thing. 
When Winter finishes her food, she abruptly gets up from her seat, facing the both of you. “I’m gonna get going now so I can buy the airpods and wallow in my dorm until I fall asleep.” Your face scrunches up in amusement, nodding your head and getting up from your seat to give her a quick hug. “Take care! Text me when you get home.”
“I hope you get me for Secret Santa this year!” Seungmin earns a soft punch from Winter at his side comment before she’s off to the mall. Seungmin’s quick to pull you back down on the bench when Winter leaves, scooting so there’s almost no space between the two of you. 
“Do you have plans after here?” You hum, trying to think if you needed to be somewhere. Chewing down on your bottom lip, you shake your head. “I don’t think so.” 
“Good. You’re eating dinner with me. And don’t worry, I know what you’re thinking. We’re just going to the cafeteria on campus. I’m not gonna rob you off of your allowance.” You laugh in approval, taking another bite down your taco before tilting your body so you’re facing Seungmin, offering some up to your best friend.
“You want some?” You find he’s staring somewhere else instead of the food you had pushed up to his face. Trying to follow his gaze, you tilt your head with wide, doe-eyes before looking back to see if there was something behind you. “What are you looking at?”
Seungmin clears his throat, snapping out of his daydream. “Nowhere. Just…” You’ve never seen Seungmin this hesitant before. He’s pulling at the sleeves of the green sweater he’s wearing, looking around before he fixes his gaze on you again. 
Without warning, he sticks his thumb out to wipe something at the corner of your lips. 
“You had some sauce on your lips.” He’s looking straight ahead now, avoiding your eyes, as if he didn’t just leave you dumbfounded. “Close your mouth. You look like a fish.” Only then do you realize your lips have parted a little at his sudden actions. 
And then, just like Winter, he abruptly gets up. You don’t notice the redness at the tip of his ears when he leans down to pinch your cheeks. “Jeongin says he needs me. I’ll meet you for dinner, okay?” 
You don’t tell him you know that Jeongin’s still in class right now.
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four.
When you arrive, Kim Seungmin is already there, waving you over to where he’s seated. 
It’s packed, as usual, filled with college kids that lived in the dorm areas around the campus. However, Seungmin still finds a seat for the both of you. 
Slipping past numerous sleep-deprived college kids, you make your way to your best friend. He greets you with a quick side hug before he’s pushing the best selling mango shake of your cafeteria in your direction. “Oh my god, they weren’t sold out?” 
Every student in your university knows that The Sunshine Harvest’s mango shake was the best drink ever made in mankind. It’s the stall with the longest line in your cafeteria which explains why it always sells out so fast. Everyone would rush to the cafeteria after their last class just to buy a cup – and it was budget friendly. You’ve long given up on buying one (after months) as your schedule never lined up to when there were still some left. You complained about it all the time to Seungmin.
“It wasn’t sold out when I got there. Probably is now.” He shrugs, trying to act nonchalant even though your smile is tipping him over the edge. 
All you did was smile, and Seungmin’s forgotten everything he’s supposed to say or do. It was definitely worth waiting in line for 30 minutes, he concludes.
Happily sipping on your shake, you ask Seungmin if you should start lining up at the food stalls to get dinner. He simply nods his head, telling you to go ahead so he could look after your seats while you search for what you want to eat. Seungmin takes the small time he has alone to calm down.
Then, he receives a phone call from you.
“Do you want pizza?”
“Pizza’s fine.”
“Okay, I’ll buy us pizza.”
“When you finish ordering, just come here and give me the receipt, okay? I’ll wait for it.”
“Minnie, you’re quite literally the most impatient man on this planet. I can do it.” 
“And you had a long day of classes today. Get your ass back here.” 
Within minutes, you’re back at your seat and Seungmin’s sitting you down, taking the receipt from your hands. “Good girl.” He ruffles your hair, dropping his hand right after to squish your pouting cheeks before he’s off to wait for your pizza. 
You drop your head on the table immediately after he leaves. Something in the way he said ‘good girl’ has your heart racing, and you can hear him tell you the table’s dirty but you cannot function at the moment so your face takes the consequence of Seungmin’s words. 
Moments later, Seungmin returns with your pizza, setting it down on the table before taking his seat across from you. There’s still steam blowing from the pizza from how recent it was baked, and you hear your stomach grumble at the sight. You start to fiddle with your fingers, contemplating whether you should wait for it to cool down or grab a slice right now. 
It looks so tempting to take a bite off.
“Don’t.” Before you can even proceed with your devious plan, you feel Seungmin flick your forehead as if he knows what you’re thinking. It’s because he does. Seungmin has memorized your body language. He knows you want to take a slice, and he also knows it’s still hot, and your tongue’s gonna burn, and you’re going to regret it. You slump back in your seat in defeat. 
Seungmin considers himself a genius when it comes to the study of you. While was a stellar student in his school subjects, nothing will come close to the extent of knowledge he has on you. He’s learned about you for years, to the point he thinks he might know you better than he knows himself. He can read you like an open book – his open book. He knows that when the tip of your ears turn red, it means you’re angry. He knows you fiddle with your fingers when you’re bored. He knows you’re one of the few people who puts milk before the cereal (he’s sworn to keep that secret safe with him). 
If Seungmin were to write his thesis paper about you, he was sure he’d get a perfect mark. He’s been unknowingly tucking little things he loved about you in his heart, which is why he waited those thirty damn minutes just to buy you that stupid mango shake that you loved so much. 
He’s looking at you now, staring intensely at the pizza as if it'll cool down faster if you sent it a threatening glare. He smiles to himself, where you can’t see, and he thinks – “Wow, I really really like her.” And for a moment, he thinks he’s brave enough to say it out loud, but seconds turn into minutes and the moment passes. Instead, he chooses to roll up the wrapper from your straw and flick it at you to get your attention and tell you it’s okay to eat your pizza now. 
And you smile, immediately going in to take a slice. You smile, and Seungmin thinks he never wants to go a day without seeing you smile. He forgives himself for not being able to tell you how he feels right now. He thinks he still has time. He still has so much time in the world to confess to you.
“It’s still hot. Careful, okay?” You take a bite and immediately wave a hand in front of your mouth from the heat. He laughs at your eagerness to finish the pizza despite its temperature and he reaches to grab his own slice. 
Seungmin wishes he can spend all his dinners like this.
It isn’t long before Seungmin’s walking you home. Despite living in the dorms within campus, he still pushes to walk you back to your building that’s a little outside of the campus. “I’ll walk you home. Come on.” 
On the way back, you spot the campus cats and dogs. You squeal at the sight of them, immediately crouching down and calling at them to come to where you and Seungmin are. The cats come mewling by your feet. Seungmin mirrors you and crouches down to pick one up in his arms, checking their collars and cooing audibly. “Hello, mushroom.” 
“Oh, she’s so cute.” You stand back up to pet the little kitten in Seungmin’s arms. She reminds you of one of Minho’s cats. Minho would love her. And then, you gasp. You spot the cutest golden retriever puppy, scratching at his collar. Seungmin puts the kitten down to follow you towards where the puppy’s sitting.
“Hello there…” You take a quick glimpse at his collar. “Fang. What a cute name.” You speak in a soft voice, lifting him up gently in your arms. Fang seems to immediately melt in your touch the moment you pick him up and give him some head rubs. 
Mushroom’s meowing in jealousy when Seungmin gives his attention elsewhere. 
“Want me to rub your back? Or give you some belly rubs?” You smile sweetly, moving your hard towards his back and moving your fingers along his fur. “Minnie. Do you ever think about how easy it is to steal them?” 
He laughs at your proposition, giving it a thought. “Maybe sometimes. I’m already a criminal in your building. Might as well be a criminal on campus too.” Seungmin joins you to rub behind Fang’s ears, a smile creeping up on his face.
“It’s getting late. We’re gonna have to go.” Seungmin says gently and you pout as you put the boy down. “I wish I could put you in my bag and take you home. You’re such a good boy.” You bid your goodbye to the puppy before letting him down. 
“That just made my entire day.” You say to no one in particular as you wave one last time to the cats and dogs who go back to playing amongst themselves.
On the rest of the way back, Seungmin complains about Minho and his Criminal Law professor, and you talk about the long list of long tests and quizzes you have lined up for next week. Conversation with Seungmin always comes so easy. And when he sees your building, he makes it a point to slow down his pace so you can finish your story about the time Ryujin put red dye in Chaeryeong’s shampoo bottle. And he listens. 
With you, it’s easy to forget time. 
You finish your story just in time. Seungmin won’t tell you he tried to time it perfectly so you wouldn’t be interrupted while you happily shared the story. 
“Goodnight idiot. Don’t pull another all nighter.” As usual, Seungmin’s fingers find their way to pinch your cheeks before pushing you towards the glass doors of your building. You laugh when you notice Seungmin’s eyes brighten at the sight of Derek, and he immediately sends a wave to his favorite security guard which Derek happily returns.
“Goodnight. Walk home safely!” 
On the way back to his dorms, Seungmin’s phone buzzes from the pocket of his jeans. It's a notification from Jeongin.
(Instagram): maknaeontop mentioned you in a comment: @_seungmin isnt this u with yn LOL
The post reads: “I’ll walk with you” is just an excuse to spend more time with someone before they go and that’s romantic as fuck.
Seungmin rolls his eyes and locks his phone before shoving it in the pockets of his jeans. How convenient is Jeongin’s timing to tag him in that post after he just walked you home.
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five.
Kim Seungmin also enjoys complaining a lot. Despite being the one to offer his help, he’s holding up quite an attitude while he’s carrying your laundry to the laundry shop.
You were simply just texting each other, and you happened to tell him you were going to be doing your laundry today, and how you were dreading the long walk while carrying your shit ton of dirty clothes. That’s how you find Kim Seungmin waiting for you outside your building, taking his sweet time glaring at Karen. 
“Seungmin in the building!” His arms are open when he greets you and you fall into them in an instant. Seungmin rarely offers to hug you first so you take the moment to wrap your arms around him and stay in his embrace. Although, his enthusiasm doesn’t hold though when he’s carrying two bags of laundry on each of his shoulders and you’re walking to the laundry shop together. 
“You seriously didn’t have to do this.”
“You would’ve suffered from extreme shoulder and back pains, and I would’ve had to hear about it for the rest of the day. I’m doing myself a favor.” 
You roll your eyes and the conversation falls silent. A comfortable silence. 
You take the moment to look Seungmin over. He’s just wearing a white shirt and some sweatpants, and yet he looks like the most beautiful person on the planet. That’s Seungmin for you. He could wear anything and make it work. 
Fuck, he’s an alarm clock, and you’re so dazed by the way his hair looks like fluffy auburn under the sun, and how the outline of his chest is easy to see through his white shirt, and how his muscles are flexing from the weight of the bags he’s carrying. Since when did he start going to the gym? Was he always this tall? 
He looks painfully dashing and you’re unaware that you’ve made it to the laundry shop until Seungmin’s snapping his fingers in front of your face to get your attention. “Huh, wait. Sorry.” You flush in embarrassment at being caught daydreaming.
“Lost you for a second there.” 
You immediately get to work. You’ve already separated your clothes prior to coming here, so you begin to pour two caps of laundry detergent into the washer. Seungmin mirrors your actions so you can finish your laundry earlier. Pile by pile, you start adding your clothes to the washer and push the knob to turn it to normal cycle setting. 
While waiting, you and Seungmin simply sit on the floor and lean against the wall, staring at the washer with your head resting on his shoulder and your legs outstretched on the ground. 
You wonder when you should do your groceries. Maybe on Tuesday after your 1pm long test? You don’t think you have anything else to do on that day. Has Seungmin finished doing his groceries or would he want to come with you? You think he has a full day of classes on Tuesday. 
“What’s on your mind?”
“Huh, what?” You pull your head away from his shoulder, and Seungmin regrets asking what’s on your mind. It’s too late to double down though. 
“You were chewing on your lips. Assumed you were deep in thought.” You don’t know how chewing your lips has anything to do with being deep in thought. Have you always chewed down on your lips when you were thinking of something? Seungmin curses himself for letting that slip out so easily. 
“Just thinking about when I should do my groceries.” Seungmin quickly dismisses the topic in fear of his feelings being caught. It doesn’t seem like you want to talk much about groceries either. So, you fall back in your comfortable silence and your head is back on his shoulder and a smile instantly crawls its way to Seungmin’s lips while he leans his head on yours. 
“Why does it seem like it’s taking longer than usual?” You whine, staring at the washer with your eyes squinted a little. You look at the clock to see how much time has passed by and then back at the washer as if it’d speed up if you did. “Yeah, I’m tired of hanging out with you.” 
Seungmin’s head falls when you pull your own head back to stick your tongue out at him. He just chuckles at you, linking his arm around you so he can pull you back. “Come back. I was comfortable.” He wraps an arm around you so he can push your head back on his shoulder and your heart skips a beat when he nuzzles his head against yours once again. 
“Shouldn’t have said you were tired of hanging out with me then.” You mumble, afraid that your voice would quiver if you spoke any louder. Seungmin simply dismisses you with a wave of his head. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry.”
Time always moves faster when you’re actually enjoying the moment because a few minutes pass and the washer stops, and now you have to take your clothes out and place them in the dryer. 
Seungmin stays, telling you he’d help with folding up your clothes and bringing them back to your building – which is exactly what he does when the dryer finishes. And somehow, folding your clothes has turned into a competition between the two of you when he’s claiming he can fold much more than you can. 
He wins.
“It’s just because you have big hands!” 
“Your argument makes no sense.” 
“It does so! See, see. Look.”
You lift your hand mid-air, explaining to him why more work can be done with less effort if you have big hands compared to having smaller hands. It’s like walking less steps when you have longer legs. You’re not sure you’re making sense yourself, and you’re definitely not sure how to function when Seungmin reaches to meet his hand with yours. 
His hands are big.
“You do have tiny baby hands. Are your hands smaller than Felix’s?” The moment feels way too intimate for you. While you’re just comparing hand sizes, it's the warmth of his hands that catch you off guard and the feeling that you wouldn’t mind feeling his hand like this every day.
Seungmin thinks about how easy it’d be to just intertwine your hands together.
“Uh… I don’t know. We’ll have to see.” You instantly pull your hand back, packing your folded clothes back in your bags. You don’t know why your face won’t stop smiling at what just happened so you bury your head deep into the bags so Seungmin can’t see how red your cheeks are. 
“They’re definitely smaller. You don’t have to check.”
Seungmin doesn’t admit either that he doesn’t want you to press your hand against Felix’s like you did with his. 
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six.
Even when you’re not together physically, he still finds a way to annoy you. 
“That’s what phones are made of!” He explains over the phone while you’re grocery shopping. Seungmin doesn’t seem to mind that his only view in your Facetime call is your double chin and the piles of food behind you. 
“What are you doing grocery shopping on a Sunday anyway? Isn’t this your sleeping day?” He says as if it was a matter-of-fact. “There are no rules stating I can’t grocery shop on a Sunday.” You deadpan before grabbing a bottle of shampoo from the shelves. 
The old lady looks at you like you’re crazy and you blush in embarrassment, pulling your cart away and moving to another section of the shop. It must look like you’re talking to yourself.
“You’re stressed, aren’t you?” Seungmin shifts from his position so he’s sitting up and he can hear you better which catches your attention. “So maybe I am a little.” You grab some toilet paper before you start to walk to the frozen section. 
“You know you can talk to me, right? I’m always here to carry the weight with you.” You smile at the rare words of affirmation from your best friend. It was never his love language. He showed his affection through his acts of service, so you appreciate that he’s lowering down his teasing to genuinely comfort you while you’re stressed.
“I know. It’s just…” So you talk to him. 
You rant to your best friend while you’re walking around the grocery store, and while numerous other old ladies and men look at you like you need to seek psychiatric help. You tell him about your blockmates and how they rarely put in work during group projects and activities. Seungmin knows it’s bothering you more than ever now since exams are nearing. That meant so were a shit ton of project deadlines. 
“Need me to talk to them?” You laugh, dismissing him while you examine the ice cream flavors available. “That’s just embarrassing for me. Though, I’ll admit they’d be scared shitless if The Kim Seungmin scolded them.” You lean down to pick up the Rocky Road tub for yourself and a Mint Choco for Seungmin.
“Don’t talk about me like I’m all that. I’m just… Minnie.” Your heart warms at how he uses your nickname for him. “And I’m serious. I  won’t hesitate talking to them if you need someone to knock some sense into them.” Your best friend scoffs at the thought of your group mates and the unnecessary amount of stress they’re putting you in.
“It’s alright. I’ll handle them. Do you need anything?” Your grocery list has long been crashed out and discarded in your pocket, now just looking around to see if there was anything else you could fit in your budget. 
“Do you think you can get me some eggs?” You hum, moving towards where the dairy products are. “Just one carton?” You ask, skimming through them before grabbing a dozen upon Seungmin’s approval. 
When he tells you he doesn’t need anything else, you move to fall in line so you can pay for your groceries. Only then do you realize that Seungmin’s wearing the fuzzy socks you got for him a few Christmases back. 
“I thought you threw those out.” 
“Hm?” Seungmin asks you to clarify.
“The socks I gave you as a gift.”
“I would never! They’re my happy socks. Also, wasn’t this the Christmas when you received that Ghibli inspired night light?” 
“Yeah! How’d you remember?”
“You were really happy to get it. You would not stop talking about it.” He smiles his Seungmin smile while recalling the memory. You had quite literally screamed when you opened it and Seungmin almost fell out of his ass thinking that you got hurt or injured. 
“Best. Gift. Ever.” You stressed every word, looking ahead to see you’re next in line. “I’m taking that as a challenge.” 
“Alright. I have to pay. I’ll talk to you later!”
“Text me…”
“I’ll text you when I get home, I know, I know. Bye!” You hang up the call just in time for the person before you to finish and you start loading your items on the counter. When you exit the shop, you spot Felix with his own bag of groceries as well. 
He greets you enthusiastically the moment he spots you, going in to give you a short hug and a small pat on your head. He’s smiling his sunshine smile as the two of you walk through the large shop together, and he’s kind enough to offer to carry one of your shopping bags for you as you exit. You decide to just take the train back to campus together as he lives in one of the in-campus dorms as well. 
“Soooo… you and Seungmin together yet?” Felix stabs the silence with a knife, immediately going in for the kill. You scrunch your face, shaking your head as you look at him with your eyes squinted. “Felix.”
“No, but like! He’s always so happy when he’s with you. And even when you’re not around, he goes on and on about you. I’m pretty sure Changbin knew everything about you before he even met you.”
“Don’t give me false hope.” You nibble on your lip, looking down at your groceries as Felix navigates the both of you towards the train station. 
Felix pauses, a small hand on your back to make sure he doesn’t lose you in the crowd of people waiting to catch the train. “It’s not false hope!” Felix is trying to find a way to properly articulate his thoughts to you. He’s not dumb – he sees the way Seungmin looks at you. Seungmin doesn’t need to tell him. 
“Okay, listen to this. So, one time I went to their dorm, right? Cause I was stress-baking and I made too many brownies and I know how much Innie loves them so I went there. It was a little late in the night, and when I walked in about to announce my presence, Seungmin saw me.”
You look at him confused, but let him continue the story.
“Turns out, you had fallen asleep on him while the three of you were watching a movie, and there was this look on his face. I can’t even begin to explain, but he had this look, and he told me to be quiet so I don’t wake you up.”
You just scoff at his story. 
“Fine, don’t believe me. One day, I’m gonna say I told you so.” He teases, and a faint smile forms on your face. “Let’s hope I get to hear that.” You feel your heart pumping at the thought. Felix seems really sincere with his words, but you didn’t want to hang onto something you don’t see yourself. 
It’s quiet after that when you enter the train. It’s a little packed so there isn’t a seat for you and Felix, but he protectively stands beside you and ghosts an arm around you so you don’t fall when the train accelerates. Felix walks you all the way to your building before he hands you back your grocery bag. 
“Bye Felix! Be safe.”
“Bye (name). Go and kiss Seungmin for me!” 
“I hate you.” 
He waves to you as he leaves and now the thought of kissing Seungmin is stuck in your head. Screw Lee Felix and his endless teasing. 
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seven.
You don’t see Seungmin until Thursday that week. You’ve been stressed. Really stressed. And Seungmin’s well aware. 
He lets you rant to him at night, playing the part of your diary. He lets you be angry, he lets you be annoyed – without shame. He lets you feel every emotion and reminds you you’re valid for feeling that way.
You’re always thankful for Seungmin. You’re appreciative of the way he drops whatever he’s doing at any hint that you’re stressed just so he can listen. He doesn’t say anything while you rant, letting the moment be entirely yours. He simply plays his part as someone who’s there to hold the moment with you because he’s lucky enough to be the one to hear it. 
So, on a Thursday, you text him asking if it was okay for you to drop by the dorms. He says yes in an instant, but tells you to come in 2 hours. He must’ve been busy. 
But now, two hours later, you’re standing outside his dorm building with the carton of eggs you bought him and some jjajangmyeon. Jeongin, Seungmin’s roommate, is the one who greets you. 
“(Name)!”
“Jeongin!”
He rushes to hug you, wrapping his long arms around you and lifting you from the ground just a little before placing you down safely. “How long has it been since you visited us? I’m a little hurt.” He accompanies you to leave your student ID with the guard, holding up the conversation and offering to bring the plastic bag you’re holding.
Jeongin announces your arrival by knocking on the door. How unusual for someone who also lives in that same dorm he’s knocking. Maybe he didn’t bring the keys with him?
There’s a sound of vague stumbling and cursing and rushing around before the door swings open to reveal a sweating Seungmin. “Hey. Long time no see.” He lets out a breath, one you think he’s been holding before he steps aside to let the both of you in. He smiles at you before his eyes land on the plastic Jeongin’s holding. 
“My eggs! Thank you.” Seungmin pinches your cheeks in thanks before grabbing the bag from Jeongin who’s still chuckling over Seungmin’s very excited exclamation of his eggs. “And some jjajangmyeon, too? (Name), you sure know your way around my heart.” 
“You’re welcome.” You sit yourself on their couch, noticing that the place has been tidied up a little. You laugh at the boys’ effort to clean up before you came over. 
“You feeling better?” Seungmin plops down at the spot next to you, fixing his gaze on you. 
“A little.” (Way better now that I’m here with you–).
“Good. Being stressed ages you faster. You’re already like half fifty or something.”
(--so I can strangle you.)
Jeongin nudges Seungmin suddenly, clearing his throat. You look at the younger boy suspiciously and suddenly Seungmin’s sweating again despite not doing anything. “I have a surprise.” 
“You… have a surprise?” You tilt your head in confusion. Seungmin tells you to wait one moment as he waddles towards the door of their bathroom. What surprise could possibly be linked to their bathroom. “Seungmin. I swear to god if you show me one of your shit–”
Then, he opens the door and out comes running… Fang? 
“Did you kidnap the campus dog?!” You shoot out of your seat, mouth dropping at the sight of the dog who’s excitedly jumping and demanding for your attention. “I was kidding when I talked about kidnapping them!” 
“You said they’d cheer you up no matter what!” Your initial shock dissipates when Fang looks so cute barking and jumping at you, so you sit back down and he immediately hops on their couch to lay down on your lap.
“I helped too.” Jeongin states proudly, sitting on your left so you’re in between him and Seungmin who has taken the spot on your right. “You made the baby help you steal?” Seungmin rolls his eyes, rubbing Fang’s head. “He was more than happy to do it.” 
Only then do you allow your heart to explode in your chest. Seungmin actually kidnapped the campus dog to surprise you because you’d been stressed for the week. Your emotions feel heightened, and you feel an overwhelming wave of love wash over you at its purest, unsolicited form. 
He did this for you just because. He did it without expecting anything in return. He did it because you briefly mentioned how they made your day when you saw them that one time you ate dinner together. 
You can’t do anything but stare at him for a moment, unable to really pay attention to Fang, not that he really needs it. Jeongin’s giving him enough attention by playing around with him. You’re absolutely dumbfounded at the heavy implication of care in his actions. Here he was next to you, holding with him all your feelings you’ve had for years. 
“Thank you, Minnie.” You lean in to give him a small kiss on his cheek before you’re getting up to play with Fang and Jeongin. His pretty brown eyes go wide. There’s a deep inhalation while he sits there after you’d kissed his cheek. He’s taken by surprise, almost frozen in his spot. 
He’d kidnap all the campus dogs and cats just to feel your lips on his cheek again. 
He’s snapped out of his daze by the sound of knocking and almost immediately Jeongin’s rushing Fang back into their bathroom to hide him and their filthy crimes. They were going to return him. They were simply… borrowing.
Seungmin answers the door once Jeongin safely hides the cute puppy. 
It’s Lee Minho. 
“It’s just Minho!” Minho invites himself inside, waving at you once he spots you. “Why are you here?” 
“I invited him so he could cook dinner for us. My wallet’s bleeding and I’m craving a home cooked meal.” Jeongin responds, opening the bathroom door to let Fang out again who instantly warms up to Minho. There’s obvious relief in his voice at not being caught. He was an accessory to the crime after all. 
“Only if I get a hug from Seungminie.” Minho’s smirking, inching closer and closer to Seungmin who puts his arms out in front of him to block himself from the boy. “Move! You’re dirty! And don’t call me that.” 
Minho all but laughs at Seungmin’s response, already having predicted it. He ignores Seungmin’s passiveness when it comes to affection, choosing instead to pet the puppy by his feet. “I’m not even gonna ask why you stole the campus dog.”
“We’re just borrowing him!” 
“Can you steal Mushroom for me too?” Minho pats your head affectionately when he passes by you to make his way to the kitchen, looking through the pots and pans and ingredients to figure out what he’s going to be cooking tonight. 
“Depends how much you’re willing to pay me.” Seungmin grins evilly, and Minho all but shakes his head at the younger boy.
It goes on like this for a while. You help Minho out sometimes at the kitchen because Seungmin and Jeongin cannot for the life of them cook without causing a fire, and then Minho pushes you to go back and play with Fang since Seungmin went through all the trouble kidnapping him for you (Jeongin couldn’t keep the secret and told Minho right away why they decided to steal the puppy). 
You feel genuine happiness when you’re around them. The feeling remains even when you’ve sat down to eat. 
Jeongin and Minho also can’t help but notice the happiness radiating off of Seungmin who’s staring at you and your smile when he thinks no one is looking.
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eight.
Kim Seungmin’s friends are basically an extension of yours, like how your friends are an extension of his. 
While some are closer with others, you don’t mind each other’s presence. Seungmin’s friend group is way bigger than yours – 8 boys including himself. As for you, you liked sticking with Winter, Chaeryeong, and Ryujin. 
Hanging out in the big field of your school was supposed to be only amongst you and the 3 girls, but when the boys caught wind of your plans, they asked if they could tag along. 
That’s how you find yourselves sitting on the field’s grass and chatting while some play a variation of volleyball by the side. 
Everyone’s doing their own little thing, happy to just spend the afternoon with friends after a long week of classes. Ryujin’s bullying Chan, untying his shoelaces every chance she gets. Chaeryeong and Minho are discussing amongst themselves about their dance showcase coming up since they were both majoring in the same course (with Changbin constantly trying to bother them both – you wish Chaeryeong would punch him again so you could catch it on video this time). Hyunjin’s asking for Winter’s advice since he’s been tinkering with the idea of taking up Fashion Design. The rest of the boys are playing around with the exception of Seungmin who’s laying down on the picnic blanket you’d laid out. 
“You mentioned you had a quiz today, right? How was that?” You look down at Seungmin even though he has an arm draped over his eyes to shield them from the sun. 
“I think I did alright. Bolted out of there as soon as they started discussing their answers.” 
The boy simply laughs, tuning out everyone else in favor of listening to your voice. It doesn’t last long though when Jisung is bothering everyone to play volleyball together. He claims it’s perfect since you were 12 total so exactly 6 people would be on each time like an actual game. 
Feeling nice today, you decided to join in on his idea. Jisung is thankful for the support. It’s always his ideas that are turned down – though he’s to blame most of  the time. Who thinks swimming in an ice cold lake is a good idea to hangout? 
It’s only now that he thinks of something that’s normal to do so everyone gives him a chance.
So, you play. You, Ryujin, Chan, Felix, Minho and Hyunjin in one team and Seungmin, Changbin, Jeongin, Chaeryeong, Winter, and Jisung in another. 
Your team wins both rounds. Seungmin’s just complaining about Changbin’s good at nothing while you switch courts to play a third round (even though your team’s already won). “That’s embarrassing.” Minho jests at the opposite team, laughing when Jisung pouts instantly. 
“We’re just going to win again. Do you really wanna play another round?” Ryujin joins in on the teasing, finally creating a temporary truce with Chan as they were on the same team. 
“Mean!” Chaeryeong remarks before slumping her shoulders. “She’s right though. They’re definitely gonna win again.” 
“I hate all of you” are Seungmin’s last words before you play another round. The game goes by really quickly until Jisung accidentally spikes the ball in your direction and he’s immediately down on his knees apologizing to you. 
Everyone’s eyes instantly land on Seungmin who’s already making his way to where you’re seated on the ground. 
“I’m okay. It’s okay Ji!” Despite your verbal reassurance to everyone, he still places a fond hand on your head before he holds your chin, gently tilting your head on both sides to see if you were hit in the face. 
Jisung’s now apologizing to both you and Seungmin.
Chan jumps on the opportunity to start taunting Jisung and how Seungmin was gonna be mad at him and Jisung’s sad attempts at getting the boy to hug him will all be in vain. “Chan, you’re my roommate. I thought you were supposed to be on my side!” 
“I’m sorry, the roommate contract doesn’t cover taking your side.” 
Seungmin doesn’t let the game continue after that, but nobody really minds, happy to finally take a break from playing. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Doting Seungmin is adorable as he’s wiping the sweat from your forehead, asking you a million times if you were hurt. He tells you it’s because he can’t pay in case you've broken a bone or something. You know better than that. 
He was just being his ‘tsundere’ self. 
“Yo, you guys ready for the midterms exams soon?” Chan opens up and a loud groan immediately leaves Ryujin’s lips in response. “Don’t even remind me.” 
“I’m honestly just excited for the university festival right after.” Felix quips, hugging his knees to his chest. Winter and Hyunjin instantly agree, talking about wanting to help out with the booths. 
“I wonder which artists are gonna perform. There’s no lineup yet, right?” Changbin asks, and everyone responds with a variation of ‘no’ or ‘I don’t know’ along with a list of some artists they wished would make an appearance. 
“Ya, lovebirds!” Minho calls out to the both of you which catches your attention. “You’re going to the university festival after exams, right?” 
Your eyes light up at the mention of the festival and you eagerly nod, completely disregarding how Minho called you lovebirds. Seungmin takes note of your excitement, smiling goofily to himself before replacing it with a straight face upon facing his friends. He knows they’ll never let him live it down if they caught him with that smile on his face.
Seungmin just watches as you start talking about which booths you wished to see and which artists you were hoping to perform, and how you were wondering if there was going to be a fireworks display at night. 
Your grin is so wide and fond and excited that Seungmin can’t help but let his own smile unknowingly linger. Minho has a shit-eating grin on his face at the sight.
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nine.
Hell week – the week before midterm exams – comes really quick, and soon you find yourself living through Seungmin’s coffee machine and 5 hours of sleep. 
The campus library becomes your second home as does a lot of people from numerous departments, studying until ungodly hours and sneaking in cups of hot coffee. So, after eating dinner, you walk the familiar steps towards the library with your best friend. 
Seungmin also seems to be running low on sleep, eyes drooping before you even made it to the library. However, ever the top student that he is, he fights through the exhaustion. He’s thankful for the distraction. 
Ever since you mentioned your excitement for the university festival and the fireworks display, Seungmin’s mind has been eating at him to use it as the perfect opportunity to confess to you. It’s the only thing that replays in his mind when he isn’t doing anything — all the possible outcomes to a confession and all the possible ways to confess.
So, he’s more than grateful for the distraction. 
Not so much the one in front of him right now though. You’ve been at the library for around an hour now, books and papers scattered around the table. Seungmin’s tapping his pen against his lips, elbow propped up on the wood of the table. Criminal law has long been discarded in his head, he’s read it way too many times for the past week in preparation for the exams. 
“Stop looking. You’re distracting me.” You whisper for Seungmin to pay attention, not even bothering to look up from your own book as you shut your eyes closed to try the photographic memory you clearly don’t have before flipping to the next page.
“How narcissistic of you to think I’m staring at you.” He rolls his eyes just to be annoying before his cheek falls against his fist, eyes glazing over you again. He has little shame in his unabashed staring. 
It’s how he notices your gentle shivering at the airconditioning of the library. “Did you forget to bring a jacket?”
You don’t hear him, and you don’t really have to as he’s already taking his hoodie off, dropping it on top of your book to grab your attention. “You’re shaking.” When you’re about to retort, saying he’d get cold too — he goes back to studying, placing his earphones in even though he isn’t listening to any music.
You notice it’s your favorite hoodie of his, the Dodgers gray hoodie, once you put it on. Almost immediately you’re engulfed in his warmth and his scent and you’re grateful for the jacket because your ass has been shaking for the last hour. 
Seungmin’s attempt to get back to studying falls short when he catches a glimpse of you in his jacket that’s clearly too big for you. 
His thoughts drift to the color of your eyes and the way your hair frames your face so prettily and how you look so cute with the sleeves of his jacket falling beyond where your hands are. He thinks about how it’d feel like if he went in for the first kiss, pressing his lips on yours without it being nerve-wracking. 
He imagines everything and anything in that short amount of time, his notes discarded in favor of admiring you. 
Seungmin is interrupted when you drop a copy of his perfectly written notes (from a class he took a year ago), asking him about a specific topic since you’re taking the class this year. He readjusts himself on the library seats, the ones he hates but puts up because you enjoy studying in the library so much. 
Leaning in forward, Seungmin starts explaining to you the concepts of Politics and Governance and Health Laws. He glances at you with a frown when you seem to be staring at his notes blankly, having a hard time grasping all the information at once.
“You look like you’re fighting for your life in there.”
“That’s cause I am! How am I supposed to pass this class? Can it just be over so we can be at the university fest already?” Seungmin leans across the table to flick your forehead gently.
“You’re more concerned about the university fest than passing your exams.” 
“Okay, mean.” You say to him with a frown, looking around to see if anyone’s looking before flashing him a middle finger. He rolls his eyes, pushing your notes further towards you before speaking again. “I’m not wrong though.”
He pokes you with a pen to get your attention, telling you to focus up before he’s explaining the concepts to you again. You try better to understand them now, repeating some of the things he tells you and answering his follow-up questions to make sure you really understand.
The soft smile he gives you when you answer correctly is enough motivation to perfect your exam. He looks like such a boyfriend right now. Lending you his hoodie, tutoring you on your exams, leaning in and smiling that soft smile directed at you. It takes everything in your head not to daydream of what it’d be like if he was actually yours. 
You have to remind yourself he isn’t yours. He’s just your best friend. Your stupid boyfriend material best friend. 
Similarly, Seungmin’s telling himself to get it together. He needs to stay focused on the upcoming exams and stop thinking about what it’d feel like to be yours.
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ten.
It goes like this for a few more days until midterms week rolls through. And even then, you’d hold yourself in the library after an exam to study for the next. 
Sometimes you’d be joined by Winter, and sometimes Jisung and Changbin would tag along which usually resulted in you trying to muffle your laughter underneath sweater sleeves. Who knew you could sneak in 12 cups of coffee in the library before actually getting caught? 
Ever since then, Jisung’s been banned from your study sessions with Seungmin.
Tomorrow’s the last day of your exams, and you’re at Seungmin and Jeongin’s dorm to eat dinner before you head out to the library for the last time. 
Seungmin’s out to buy dinner so you’re left with Jeongin who keeps trying to pry into yours and Seungmin’s non-existent relationship. “But you’ve definitely made out before, right?” Your face grows redder and redder every second that Jeongin speaks and you hit him with their couch throw pillow to rebut. 
“We have not!”
“You’re right. Seungmin would’ve never shut up about it. But like, why not? Just get it over with and kiss!”
“We’re just best friends.”
“That’s what they all say.” Jeongin turns his full attention at you, smirking to himself before he starts making kissing noises. “Oh Minnie, kiss me already!” He purposely changes the pitch of his voice to try and imitate yours and you pretend not to feel the warmth on your cheeks.
“I’m gonna end up killing you before Seungmin does.”
He acts as if he doesn’t hear your comment (threat) and continues to tease you. “Seungminie, please fu—“
“Oh my god, shut up!” You almost jump at the poor boy upon realizing what he’s about to say next, and Seungmin arrives just in time before you can strangle the life out of his roommate.
“Am I interrupting something?” He glances at the two of you with an eyebrow raised, placing down the takeout containers on the table and motioning for you to sit so you can eat already.
“I think you might’ve just saved my life.” You send another glare at Jeongin and he raises his hands in surrender. 
Seungmin just chuckles at this, coming up to sit beside you before he’s distributing the containers to the three of you. “What did you even do that made her jump you?” 
“Everything he does makes me want to jump him.” You bark, squinting your eyes at the boy seated across from you and Seungmin.
“Woah, woah. (Name), I don’t see you like that. So eager to jump me?” You scoff loudly at his response, flicking a plastic spoon in his direction. 
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding! We both know who you really want to jump.” 
The plastic fork follows with the threat that if he doesn’t shut up, the hot soup from your noodles is gonna be next.
“Alright, both of you calm down and eat.” Almost instantly, Jeongin’s hunching over his chair, terrible posture leaned forward to start twisting the noodles around his chopsticks. Seungmin angles himself close to you so that your shoulders are brushing, leaning down and blowing on his food before he starts to eat as well.
You try and fail to hide a smile at the physical contact.
On your way to the library, you exchange reviewers to ask each other questions. It’s a good way to retain your memory on the concepts. Jeongin doesn’t seem to know any of the answers to his questions, and Seungmin makes that face exclusive to when he senses something horrible is going to happen — in this case, Jeongin’s grade on this subject.
“Don’t worry. God’s gonna give me a miracle tomorrow.”
“Did he tell you that?” You nudge Seungmin’s shoulder, laughing at their banter when Jeongin sticks his tongue out at your best friend. 
“Of course you’re gonna pass your exams tomorrow. Pre-law students are nerds. You fit right in.” Jeongin snorts which earns him a smack from his roommate. “Do you wanna get kicked out of the dorms?”
The rest of the night falls smoothly with the three of you minding your own business (Jeongin instantly gets distracted by his phone). It’s only before midnight that you find Seungmin asleep in front of you, head resting on the wooden table of the library and eyes closed peacefully. 
You glance at him and you almost feel bad you have to wake him up. Your heart flutters at the small smile gracing his lips, snapping a quick photo so you can go back to this moment forever.
You brush his skin gently, and a smile appears on his face. It’s soft, reserved, but it feels like everything to you. Something in the way he smiled at your touch has you feeling something you can’t quite identify. It makes your heart hurt in s good way.
“Minnie, wake up.” Your voice breaks him out of his nap. He glances up, sleep still evident in his eyes. Then, his dreamy smile returns. 
“Sorry.” You apologize to the boy while he moves to tidy up his things. He must’ve fallen asleep while waiting for you to finish studying. 
“Don’t apologize.” There’s that sincere, intense look in his eyes that makes sure to meet your gaze, so you know he’s being serious, yet his words are gently spoken. He doesn’t want you to feel bad. It was his choice to wait for you.
“Go straight to sleep when you get back, okay? I know you love pulling allnighters, but it’s not good for you.” 
On normal circumstances, he’d protest, telling you that he was still able to get a good 4 hours of sleep, but the genuine concern swimming in your eyes has him sealing his mouth shut and nodding instead.
“Alright.”
Seungmin finds he’d do anything for you.
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eleven.
After you finish your last test, you get a text from Seungmin telling you to come to JYP Diner. 
He explains that the boys wanted to eat together after completing the midterm exams, and that you should try inviting Ryujin and Winter as well (Chaeryeong was already there as she shared her last exam schedule with Minho).
You reply that Winter had retired for the day, and that Ryujin still had an exam later this afternoon. He tells you to hurry up and get your ass to the diner.
As soon as you open the door, Seungmin’s eyes land on you and the annoyed look on his face melts into a fond smile. He’s quick to get up, greeting you by the door before wrapping his arm around your shoulder to draw you to where they were seated. 
The inside of the diner is warm and pleasant. You’re thankful for the differing scenery of the calm diner compared to the stress of your university.
The boys and Chaeryeong wave at you when you make it to the table, and you fall on the empty seat right next to your best friend. 
“Oh, (name). You should’ve heard him when you were still on your way here.” Minho quips, grin growing when Seungmin kicks him from under the table.
“Why’s (name) taking so long?” 
“Has (name) texted you guys?”
The rest of the boys join in, overexaggerating their imitation of Seungmin’s words from earlier. Barely concealed laughters echo around your booth when your best friend shoots them a friendly show of his middle finger before he shushes them, asking you what you wanted to eat as everyone else had already ordered. 
“Hey, where’s Felix?” You only now notice the boy’s absence, and Hyunjin snorts in response. 
“Immediately fell asleep after his Advanced Calculus exam. He was actually in tears while studying for it last night.” 
“Just like Jeongin then.” Seungmin earns a rather harsh nudge from Jeongin. “That was supposed to be a secret!” 
There’s a gentle smile eating at your lips once your food arrives and your sleep-deprived friends start gobbling up the food as if they were sentenced to life and this was their last meal. There’s always that unidentifiable feeling of comfort when you’re with them, and you’re grateful to have found such friends. 
“What’s wrong?” Seungmin asks you quietly, noticing that you haven't started eating yet. Humming, you shake your head with the same small smile on your face. 
“It’s nothing.” 
Your after-exam celebration is continued over teasing and conversations about the university festival, and one by one, everyone starts excusing themselves to go back home. As usual, Seungmin walks you home.
He doesn’t let you walk into your building immediately upon arrival, asking you to wait for a moment. You comply, tilting your head with an amused smile on your face. 
He’s rummaging through his bag now, looking for something before he pulls out two… tickets? He shoves one in your direction and it takes you a while to realize it’s a ticket to the university festival concert. They weren’t even selling yet, and when they did, it sold out pretty fast.
“How did you…?”
“Chan’s part of the student organizers.” 
You immediately jump to coddle the boy in your arms, squeezing his rather larger body and pressing your cheek on his chest as you repeatedly say ‘thank you’. Your eyes are squeezed shut from beaming too much and your smile’s a little crooked from how genuine it comes out. 
Seungmin can’t properly tell you that it’s no problem. He finds his words jumbled up because the sight he’s subjected to is so… beautiful. He’s blushing and somehow it’s making you blush too. 
There’s something tucked beneath your smile, a certain kind of shyness in the way your eyes crinkle. It’s beautiful, as it always has been, but there was something about it that had Seungmin staring at your lips and back at your eyes. It’s like he’s being pulled in, and he’s unaware that he’s slowly and slowly minimizing the gap between you. 
Just when he’s about to bite the bullet, an unknown voice startles him.
“Is that the little menace?” 
Fucking hell.
Karen’s marching her way down the steps to where Seungmin’s standing, and you know it’s time he goes before Karen catches up to the boy. 
“I guess I’ll see you later.” You laugh, but there’s that hint of shyness again, of being flustered as you wave at him. And then, you turn around to head inside your building.
Seungmin bolts back to his dorms, and he spends the rest of the afternoon thinking about what could’ve happened if goddamn Crazy Karen would’ve just kept her mouth shut. 
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twelve.
The university festival comes really fast, and you’re more than excited to spend it with your friends.
“Give me one second.” Chaeryeong’s gathering products from her desk and makeup bag, gathering them up on the floor and telling you to sit still as she rummages through her multiple tubes and brushes. 
She maneuvers your head so you’re facing her before she slathers something on her palms, transferring the product to your face and rubbing it gently on your skin. A thin layer of concealer follows before she’s brushing powder on your face. 
Earlier, you had asked if she could do your makeup for you and she excitedly replied with a ‘yes’ and a ‘come over right away’. 
It’s how you find multiple brushes being dabbed on your face, hues of pink on your cheeks and a little on your nose before she’s patting a few glitters on the lids of your eyes. She lets you put on the mascara yourself so she doesn’t accidentally poke you with the wand (like she did the last time she did your makeup).
Then she’s on the search for the perfect shade of lipstick. “Let’s just put a little. Seungmin’s just gonna wipe it all off anyway when you two eventually kiss tonight.” 
“Oh my god, Ryeong.” 
“What! I’m not wrong.” She’s giggling as she tells you to part your lips slightly, applying the soft pink shade on your lips. “You look so pretty.” She coos more to herself, proud of her creation before she’s pinching your cheeks lightly. 
She shoves a mirror to your face so you can reap the results of her hard work. She was right.
Chaeryeong did a wonderful job highlighting your natural features and letting the makeup work naturally on your face. You smile brightly, giving her a quick hug and showering her in ‘thank you’s. 
“Okay, now get changed. Go, go! We’re gonna be late.” 
When you step out, you’re met with the sight of Chaeryeong in a cute, sleeveless dress, leather jacket and fishnets. She looks stunning as she playfully turns around to show off her whole fit. “Damn, one chance?”
“Yeah, right. One chance with Seungmin, you mean.” 
“Actually, I’d like to take a million chances with Seungmin.” She cracks into a fit of giggles. “You’re so down horrendous. Look, with the way you look, I’m sensing the first chance will be taken tonight.” 
You give yourself a final do-over with Chaeryeong’s words, looking at yourself in the mirror. You’re wearing some loose slacks and a black tube top with a cream colored cardigan. For someone who didn’t have enough time to consult Winter and her amazing fashion sense, you’d say you did pretty well at dressing yourself prettily. 
“Okay, okay. Come here, let me put lip gloss on you. I think some of the boys are here already.” You comply, letting her fix up some lip gloss on you before applying some on herself.
“They’re picking us up?”
“Yup. Minho, Jeongin, and Seungmin, I think?”
“Seungmin?” You thought you’d have more time to gather yourself and your feelings on the walk to the big field where all the booths were set up. 
“Yeah, their dorm is nearest to mine. Come on.” 
When you and Chaeryeong step out of her building, the boys are dramatically whistling and clapping their hands. Only when you’re near them do they spill their genuine compliments at the way you two look. 
Seungmin’s knee-jerking reaction at seeing you so prettily dressed-up is to just stare at you unabashedly. There’s so much he wants to say, but his eyes remain glued open and his mouth shut. 
“Yah, stop staring.” Minho smacks the back of Seungmin’s head and he’s stuttering out for something to say. He wants to tell you that you look beautiful, wants to say something charming to woo you over but he’s left with his mouth parted. 
You just laugh at their exchange, taking your spot next to Seungmin as the five of you start walking to the big field. Seungmin looks so painfully attractive with his white shirt and jeans and converse and varsity jacket. He looks like the epitome of a boyfriend – so painfully dashing but also very painfully out of your league. 
Meanwhile, Seungmin’s still kicking himself over for not being able to tell you how beautiful he thinks you look. He’s just hoping he’s presented with another opportunity to tell you – and he hopes by then, he’ll have enough courage to say it. 
Earlier today, Jeongin and Minho gave him quite the heart-to-heart talk and convinced him to confess his feelings tonight. Besides, as they said, it was the perfect opportunity.
“You like her. You have for like a few years now. Stop being a pussy and tell her.” Minho’s words are rather straightforward. Jeongin groans before punching his arm. 
Minho grabs at his arm, shrugging his shoulders before continuing to snack on the chips he had stolen. 
“I’m not telling her.” Seungmin mutters to the boys, dejected. “I’m gonna ruin our friendship.”
“How sure are you?” Minho is stubborn as he continues to push Seungmin. “I’m not. But I don’t want to know.”
This time, Jeongin interjects. “Are you sure you don’t want to know? How would you live with yourself if she liked you all along and you let go of that chance so easily?” 
“I won’t.”
“Exactly. No one lives a happy life entirely within their comfort zone. If you like her so much then she’s worth dragging yourself out of that zone.” Seungmin stiffens at his roommate’s words, mind racing to truly think about what he’s saying. 
Since when did Jeongin get so wise? 
As if Minho was thinking the same thing, he narrows his eyes before staring at the youngest of the group. “You got something you wanna share with the class? How come you know so much about asking someone out?”
“The two of you are just stupid. Anyways, just do it.” 
The waters Jeongin’s treading on are dangerous, but well worth it if it meant Seungmin’s genuine happiness. He thinks it’s time Seungmin ripped off the poor excuse of a bandaid he taped around his heart and deemed all good now.
“Yeah, or I’ll do it myself.” Minho throws him a sly grin, voice overflowing with mischief. 
“Absolutely not.” Seungmin shakes his head in protest, eyes gaping in horror. He immediately grabs the bag of chips from Minho’s lap which the boy immediately tries to grab back. “What’re you gonna do to stop me?”
“Tell Chaeryeong how you wanted her to be your dance partner soooo bad with some screenshots of your messages to me.” Minho should’ve known better than to challenge the one boy that held multiple threats towards each one of them. 
His argument was unfair because he and Jeongin were the only people he told that to. Minho’s mood darkens, pulling back the bag of chips with force and resigning from his evil plans of telling you how Seungmin feels about you. 
Minho valued his pride more than anything else.
“Look, I’ll do it myself.” Seungmin huffs, rubbing the back of his neck and falling back on his bed to stare at the ceiling. “I think.”
Then, Minho’s phone buzzes from right next to him.
“The girls are almost ready. Let’s start walking.”
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thirteen.
When the five of you arrive, most of your friends are already there.
Chan’s the first one that sees you. 
“Finally.” He greets you and Chaeryeong with a big hug before bumping his fists with the boys. What is it with men and their fist bumps? 
Before you can mingle with the rest of the group, Chan leans in discreetly (or at least, as discreet as he could) and whispers to the boys. “Watch out if you’re wearing shoes. Ryujin’s been messing with everyone’s shoelaces the moment we got here.”
You laugh at his warning. Ryujin’s actually such a menace. 
“That sounds just about right.” You pat him in the back before going in to give Ryujin a hug. Her face immediately lights up when she sees you and Chaeryeong, wrapping an arm around the both of you as she starts to move away from the boys.
“Ryujin has more rizz than you.” 
“I’m not talking to someone who cried while studying Advanced Calculus.”
“Noted.” Felix instantly shuts up, moving to talk about another topic with Hyunjin who's laughing his ass off at Seungmin’s response at the poor boy.
“We’re just waiting on Changbin, Winter, and… Jisung?” 
Chan’s head counting the group, pointing at each person and mentally noting down the numbers, making sure that no one was missing. You remember the time Felix had accidentally joined in with Beomgyu’s friend group when he thought he was following Seungmin’s feet. Chan almost lost his mind.
The timing couldn’t be more perfect when they show up from a distance. Jisung seems to be talking Winter’s ear off and Changbin’s trying to pull him back. Winter looks a bit overstimulated with his level of energy, but divulges in the conversation anyway. Jisung appreciates it. You smile at how easy your friends got on with Seungmin’s friends. 
Felix excitedly points at the arcade booths lining up, some shooting games, prize wheels, virtual reality. Everyone else reciprocates the excitement, immediately running up to the booths and getting in line. Meanwhile, Jeongin’s dragging Minho at the claw machine. He’s always been notorious for having luck when it came to the claw machine games, and Jeongin was taking his chances the moment he found a bread plushie in the glass case. 
“Get it yourself.”
“Chaeryeong!” 
Minho shuts him up with a bread plushie he immediately wins for Jeongin. The youngest boy happily holds his prize and keeps his mouth shut. 
Chan easily wins Ryujin whatever she asks for in exchange for her leaving his shoelaces alone. Ryujin is easily bribed when it comes to food and free prizes and she knows Chan would probably win most of the games she wanted. Jisung and Changbin were comparing their strengths and boasting about their muscles by the punching machine, and Chaeryeong’s dominating the shooting games with Winter.
“Oh my god, the Sunshine Harvest has a booth. I’ll be back.” Before anyone from the group can accompany you, you’re running towards the direction of the booth. Seungmin understands your rush. Their mango shakes were probably on the way to selling out fast if you didn’t get there sooner. 
When you don’t return in the next 20 minutes, Seungmin is sweating frantically. He knows you can handle yourself, but there was now a chock full of new people who had just arrived and were littering the area. It’s when you don’t pick up his calls that tips him over. 
“I’m gonna go look for (name).” Chan nods understandingly, and Seungmin disappears in a flash. He thanks his parents for his height at this very moment, scanning through the groups of people and excusing himself so he can navigate towards the Sunshine Harvest booth. 
His heart drops to his stomach when he doesn’t see you there. But just when he’s about to panic some more, he spots someone hunched over to the very far left, away from the crowd, discarded mango shake container to the side. He practically leaps out of the bench he’s standing on, jogging in your direction. 
He doesn’t have the heart to scold you when he finds you playing with Mushroom.
“(Name).” You jump back at the sudden voice, but instantly smile upon realizing it’s just Seungmin. You finally say goodbye to the cat, grabbing your empty bottle before standing up. “Sorry, did I take too long?” 
“No, it’s okay.” You just don’t have to know how frantic he was while he was looking everywhere for you. 
On the way back to your friends, you don’t realize his hand is glued to the small of your waist so he doesn’t lose you again. 
When the group decides to split up, Minho and Jeongin are instantly sending Seungmin stupid dirty looks with their stupid wiggling eyebrows. He knows if he doesn’t confess tonight, Minho might actually do it for him.
The rest of the afternoon goes by so fast. You applaud the university and the student body for organizing the fest. The afternoon transitions to night so smoothly, you don’t even realize the amount of time that passed by. 
The bright lights and the loud music is so exhilarating, and it makes you feel so alive — the most alive you’ve felt in the week. There are times when you dance along to the music, exaggerating your movements and Seungmin laughs with his head rolled back and you’d embarrass yourself over and over to keep hearing him laugh.
Seungmin takes the weight off your chest so easily. All he does is pat your head and squeeze your cheeks and accompany you wherever you wish to go and suddenly, you feel lighter. Happier. And it is so, so loud. Everyone around you is talking, crowded together but you can’t hear them. All you can focus on is the feeling of his hand in yours to make sure he doesn’t lose you in the crowd and the way it fits perfectly. Like his hand was meant to be crafted to hold yours.
It’s how you continue to feel when you find yourselves amongst the crowd of the concert, pretending to know the lyrics of the songs playing, screaming at each other when you actually recognize the song. Everything you do with him is something you wish you could capture in a photo.
He’s singing, and you look at him with a silent glee in your eyes, hoping to touch the same greatness that Kim Seungmin always held and hoping to burn the memory of his singing and his soft eyes and his hand in yours. You almost feel like flying. 
His eyes are warm when you look at them, golden brown peeking down at you with fondness. You’ve always loved his eyes the most. It has always been his most obvious tell — of the things they feel and the things they’ve made you feel when he stared at you a little longer than normal.
Your lips quirk up in a smile, and you find yourself singing along to the songs with him. You were never the greatest singer, but with him, you felt like loveliest melodies and tunes flow out of you comfortably.
This time, Seungmin allows himself a quick glance at you from his peripheral vision, admiring your naturally dusted cheeks and your beaming eyes and your messed up hair from the wind and from running around all night. How could you stand there and sing without a care in the world and smile and look so, so beautiful.
And there are many things Seungmin considers to be beautiful. He loves the sunrise and the sunsets and the way the sky blends into a perfect mix of colors along the horizon before the moon chases the sun away. He loves the flowers and the trees on his way to his classes and the wind’s breeze wrapping you in a cold blanket. He loves the stars and their relentless twinkling and how they coat the night sky, making sure the moon is never lonely. But above all, he loves you and your smile and the way you chew on your lips when you think and how you make him feel like he can touch the sky. 
Seungmin finds he’d sacrifice the sunset and sunrise and the twinkling stars if it meant he could call you and all of you, his. 
He doesn’t say anything when he drops his varsity jacket on your shoulders and he doesn’t meet your eyes when you look up at him to thank him.
You make Seungmin trip over his own words. All tangled in adoration and longing. Between all the galaxies and universes, Seungmin concludes he’s lucky to have landed under the same stars as you. 
With all this in mind, Seungmin’s sure he’s upgraded way beyond the like. He’s in love with you — in the hopeless, clumsy, exhilarating kind of way. And he finds that loving you is something he wants to experience no matter the outcome. 
If he was told you’d never feel the same and if he’d still take the chance to fall in love with you, he’d say yes. It’s a yes again and again and again. Always a yes. He’d prefer the unrequited over never knowing how it feels to love you and every part of you. 
“(Name)?”
Despite the loudness of the music and the fireworks and the people around you, you find Seungmin’s voice cut through them all. 
Looking up at him, you find him looking at you in a way he never has done before. In the way he’s done so many times when you weren’t looking. There’s something swirling in his eyes, some kind of longing and desire. 
I've been alone for too long
You've been there all along
The distance between you is closing. Seungmin’s heart is racing when he peels his hand from yours in favor of cradling your cheek gently, tracing along your jaw and soaking in every detail about your face.
Ethereal love
I will choose you now and everyday
Seungmin’s putting everything on the line, stepping into the unknown, heartbeat pounding in his ears. There’s still time for you to pull away, to run away from the certainty he feels about you, to shatter him into a million pieces. 
He hopes you won’t. 
His eyes flutter shut, but when he opens them again, you’re already gone.
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fourteen.
It’s the first time Seungmin doesn’t blow up your notifications. 
Jeongin confiscates his phone when he comes home to Seungmin downing a bottle of vodka. He’s immediately concerned for his roommate’s wellbeing and what could’ve led to Seungmin’s sudden want to get drunk. 
“Hey, what happened?” He sits on the ground to accompany Seungmin, grabbing the bottle when he sees that it’s almost empty. 
“Let me sulk properly.” Then, he’s grabbing the bottle back from Jeongin, chugging down the remains before harshly setting it down on the ground. A sharp sigh leaves his throat before he leans in to rest his head on Jeongin’s shoulder. And he sits there and lets him.
Jeongin lets him because Seungmin needed someone right now. “I fucked up, Innie.” 
It’s the most fragile Jeongin’s ever heard from his roommate and he takes Seungmin’s hand to let him know that he’s listening. “Tried to kiss (name). I ruined everything.” 
Jeongin’s face twists in confusion, heart rising in his own throat. He knows you like Seungmin back. And if Seungmin tried to kiss you, he would’ve thought the result of that would be a very happy phone call from his roommate – not him drinking until he forgets.
Seungmin feels pathetic, and Jeongin swears to get to the bottom of things. With sleepy fucked up eyes, Seungmin looks up at the boy, chin tilted up and lips quivering. “Do you think she’ll forgive me?”
“I know she will. Come here.” Seungmin bows his head faintly, head falling on Jeongin’s chest as he allows himself to be hugged – allows himself to be vulnerable and to feel because it’s something that doesn’t need to be taught, but needs to be remembered over and over again. 
Jeongin wraps his arms around the boy. Seungmin attempts to swat his arms away, the way he’s used to, but he thinks it feels quite nice to be hugged. 
He had downed the pain and was begging for the temporary buzz to kick in all while his fingers are clenched on the fabric of Jeongin’s shirt and his tears are leaving a wet spot where his face is pressed against.
There’s a burn in his heart, just under his chest and it’s squeezing so tightly. When he closes his eyes, all he sees is you and he cries a little more. Is this what it felt like to have someone to lose?
Even if he knows you won’t let his feelings get in between your friendship, the unrequitedness of the feelings Seungmin has held for years is dawning on him and it is so, so painful. 
Jeongin shoots you a quick text to meet him tomorrow. 
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fifteen.
You wake up to a text from Jeongin which is how you know you’ve truly fucked up now.
You didn’t mean for it to happen, and you feel horrendous. 
You’re honestly not even sure how it happened. What a grief it is that your memory works the way they do and how you don’t remember how it felt to have his face so close to yours. It deprives you of the memory of his eyes and his lips, and they let go of the feeling of his hand in yours while you watched the fireworks. 
The human brain is beautiful, but how dare it cost the sound of his voice and the feeling of his hands cradling your face. 
In hindsight, you know you shouldn’t have run away. But you were afraid. You were afraid it was just a heat of the moment thing and Seungmin didn’t actually want to kiss you. Were you the one that came onto him? Did you initiate the kiss? 
Everything had felt so right before the fear settled in. You’ve been left with questions that were never answered before, all the voices in your head you’ve shut out for so long screaming at you. Was this how it felt to have someone to lose? 
You bury your face in your hands in frustration. Did you ruin years of friendship because you wanted to know how his lips felt like on yours? 
You’re not sure what you’re thinking when you walk towards where Jeongin tells you to meet up, but you do know you’re immediately regretting it. Especially when you see a familiar figure walking towards where you’re standing. 
“I – I have to go.” You blurt out the moment you see him. “I’m sorry. I have to.. I need to be somewhere.” You feel selfish – walking away from him because you’re not ready to hear his rejection.
“Wait, (name). Let me explain myself.”
You don’t want to hear it. You don’t want to hear the words you’d been dreading to hear. 
Backed up by your one-sided feelings, you turn yourself around and your fingers tighten around the sleeves of the jacket you’re wearing, and you shake your head as you try to quicken your pace so you can get out of there as soon as you can.
“I’ve been in love with you since we were eighteen.” 
His sudden confession stops you in your tracks. 
You find it physically impossible to turn around and look at him. Trembling lips are so easy to discern, especially on Seungmin. 
“(Name), please… please look at me.” You will yourself to look at him, and when you brave eye contact, you notice his lips trembling in trial of a smile. But it’s sad, it’s so sad and his lips start to quiver. It’s difficult to ignore the crack in his whispers and the pain in his transparent eyes. 
“I feel like I’m losing you.” The words taste bitter on his tongue. He knows exactly why. 
They’re words he never thought he’d ever utter in his lifetime, and now that he’s saying them, the reality is hitting him much harder. 
“Did I do something wrong? Was it because I tried to kiss you?” Seungmin’s having difficulty speaking, especially with the lump in his throat and the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He hasn’t cried in such a long time. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” 
He sounds ashamed, and the break in his voice does nothing to disguise his guilt. 
You hate that. You hate that you made Seungmin feel this way over one big misunderstanding. His confession repeats in your head over and over and you feel the buildup of bile in your stomach when you realize you’ve hurt Seungmin.
Your mouth dries. There’s so much you want to tell him, but you find no words escape your throat. It feels like there are fingers being shoved down your throat. 
Before you can push down the nausea, Seungmin breaks eye contact. His heart is beating incredibly fast and he thinks he’s fucked up with you further by confessing his repressed emotions – confessing his feelings he was so practiced in hiding. 
A spell of dizziness sends Seungmin tumbling backwards, heart racing and palms sweating. He looks at you, studying your expression, and the silence feels like it goes on for too long and he thinks he’s made a mistake. 
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
His sorry feels a lot like he’s saying goodbye. 
Seungmin disappears in the blink of an eye.
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sixteen.
It’s the first time in a long time that you’re the one blowing up his notifications.
He doesn’t reply to your texts. Granted it’s 3AM and the poor boy is probably asleep.
You’ve been tossing and turning for the past few hours, unable to catch even a wink of sleep with the amount of thoughts racing in your mind. The image of Seungmin, of his red eyes, of his tears, emerges from the night around you. It stubbornly laments, refusing you any form of peace. You deserve it.
Overwhelming sadness stunned you, shadowing over Seungmin’s confession. You don’t allow his words to linger. It’s incredibly unfair to feel hope when Seungmin’s out there feeling his most hopeless. 
You’re about to turn again, forcing your eyes shut when the familiar ringtone of Facetime echoes from your phone. Almost immediately, you’re leaping off your bed, grabbing your phone from the nightstand.
Oh.
It’s Winter.
“Alright, what’s wrong?” You stare at her through the screen of your phone, and it looks like she’s making herself comfortable. She’s seated on her lazy boy chair, blankets bunched up around her shoulders and a mug of something steaming by her side. 
“What?”
“I was gonna walk over to your building, but it’s 3am and I am not about to die just so I can come over and hug you. I’ll do that tomorrow.”
Your heart melts at Winter’s observance. She notices, even if it’s the most minuscule little thing. Winter always notices, and unlike the insincerity pouring from other people when they say they’re only one call away, Winter actually is. She’s one call, one text, one anything away.
“Come on, talk to me.” So you do. You tell her everything from the start. The very start.
You tell her that from the moment you met Seungmin, your mind had started crafting a romance story, even if you didn’t know it yet. He was working part-time at a coffee shop, and you’re not exactly sure how it happened, but you remember the cold sensation of coffee all over you and a promise to make it up to you. When he introduced himself, he shook your hand. 
His hand felt like warm cookies dipped in milk. 
And you tell her ever since then, you spent almost every day getting to know Seungmin and his love for the sunrise and the sunset and how passionate he is about singing but rarely ever does it in front of people and how he is repulsed by physical touch but never really minds when it’s with you. He’s still the same boy you met in that coffee shop, albeit he walks more confidently now. He grew into his features and had a broader back now, but he was still the same boy whose hand you held on the way to his dentist appointment. He was still the Kim Seungmin who smiled at you so brightly when he got his braces removed, and continued to smile at you today.
It’s been a long way since that coffee shop, but he’s remained to be the one true constant in your life. You’re convinced you were always destined to meet him. You reason it’s because you’d be a completely different person now if it wasn’t for him. If you hadn’t met at that coffee shop, you’re convinced Whoever Is Above would’ve found a way for you to meet over and over and over again. 
Everything carries you to him, as if everything that exists were little boats that sailed directly to him — to where he was waiting. To where he’s still waiting.
And then you tell her about the night of the festival. How you almost kissed him, and how you regret every second after for not just pressing your lips on his. You tell her of his confession, and how you love him tenfold, even before you knew what love was. 
Loving Seungmin was the easiest thing you’ve ever had to do. It was falling in love with his eyes and the sound of his laughter and the little things he reserves for you and for your eyes only. 
“Why’d you run away?” It was a valid question. You don’t even know yourself. 
“I guess I was just scared.” You hesitate with your answer, putting your arms around you and staring at nothing in particular. 
“He loves you.” 
“I didn’t know.”
And in hindsight, maybe you should’ve. When you look back for a sign that Seungmin’s loved you all along, you end up finding it interwoven in his teasing. He left so many signs, and you didn’t see a single one. 
There was love in his long, overbearing messages — telling you to eat, asking you about your day, scolding you for worrying him. There was love in his phone calls, in keeping you company in whatever you did because he knows you don’t like the silence very much. The quiet left you alone in your head, and you despised feeling lonely. Love echoed in your laughter and reflected in your smiles even if your jokes weren’t funny. There was love, even in the tiktoks he sent you with the small comment of “us”. It was in the dinners you shared and in the absence of words because he just understood. 
Maybe that’s what love is. Maybe this is what Kim Seungmin’s heart feels like. His love was never made up of grand gestures, it was always in the little things that told you his life is so intertwined with yours.
There was always love all along. 
There still is. 
“He just knows me so well, I thought he could never see me romantically after getting to know all my bad sides.”
“Being known is being loved.” Winter’s words linger in your head as you play a flashback of your years with Seungmin, replaying all the scenes. 
Being known is being loved.
Everything hits you all at once. When he got you that mango shake you loved so much and complained about because it sells out so fast. When you saw the campus dogs and cats that one night, and how he remembered what you said. When he knows you’re deep in thought just because you were chewing at your lips. When he recalls the gift you got a few Christmases ago because it made you so happy. When he lets you borrow the hoodies you mentioned were your favorite. When he memorizes your coffee order by heart.
Love never needed to have the tsunamis and the thunderstorms. Love is just… love. It’s just the quietness, the stillness, the calm. Sometimes, it doesn’t have to feel like a million lightning strikes. It just has to feel like finally letting out that one breath you’ve been holding on for too long.
Being known is being loved. 
“I have to talk to him.”
“I know.”
“I love him.”
“I know.”
“And he loves me.”
“He loves you.”
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seventeen.
It isn’t even 8am when you’re pacing back and forth in front of his dorms. 
You know Seungmin usually wakes up early, but you’re unsure of his sleeping patterns as of recently. You haven’t been given the privilege to know, so you text Jeongin. 
Your fingers drum nervously on the side of your thighs, feet shuffling as you stare at their gate, thinking that any moment, he could walk out. 
Last night, you practiced will-induced self conversations over how you were going to approach Seungmin today. You concluded it best not to practice anything you wanted to tell him. You owed him your honesty and a genuine, sincere undertone in your words and apology.
In all honesty, the moment you had arrived within the vicinity of their dorms, you had contemplated whether you should just continue right. Maybe you could just order an iced Americano at a cafe to remind you of Seungmin. Confrontation never came easy to you. But the thought of being an absentee in his life forever scared you and willed you to take the few steps forward towards the entrance of their dorms. 
However, it’s been a good ten minutes since you arrived, and those ten minutes are not the most kind when you’re feeling nervous and about to throw up. It really leaves a lot of room for thinking, and right now it’s thinking that Seungmin wants absolutely nothing to do with you anymore because he thought you were so repulsed by the idea of him loving you and kissing you (even though you felt quite the opposite).
Just when you were about to take a step backward and contemplate the rest of your life, Jeongin walks out of the building pulling a still very sleepy and very disoriented Seungmin behind him.
“Okay, kiss and make up.” Jeongin clasps his hands together before pointing a threatening finger at you. “Don’t mess this up again.” And then he’s on his way back to the inside of their dorm building (peeking through their windows from time to time).
The first thing you discern is his incredibly puffy eyes. From sleeping or crying? You don’t know. And then it’s his pathetic attempt to smile even though he doesn’t feel like it. Seeing him like this, because of you, makes you want to fall on your knees and weep. 
Your eyes trail to the rest of him – his messy hair, his slumped shoulders, his slightly shaking hands. The instinct to hold it is strong, you know it always manages to calm him down. But you don’t. 
“(Name).” His voice sounds thick and heavy, looking at your eyes for a second before looking back down on the pavement. You recognize the pitch of his voice. He was sad and unsure. 
You take a few steps forward, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he meets your eyes again. It has the same look the day he confessed to you. The same tilting of his head ever so slightly, albeit a little more tired and a little less hopeful. His eyes look like they’re filled with quiet thoughts, looking at you gently even though you had shattered them. 
Seungmin, for the first time in a long time, looks regretful.
“Seungmin, I wanted to… I… I’m sorry.” He simply nods his head, sucking in a shark breath as he thinks this was it. This was the rejection he’d been dreading to hear.
“It’s okay.” He murmurs, your apology threatening to send a new wave of tears in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have said what I said especially when I know you don’t feel the same.”
“Wait, what? No… no. Seungmin, that’s not it.”
There’s a long pause before you speak again. 
“I just… dd you really mean it? What you said yesterday?”
Seungmin cringes at himself, but the red blossoming on his cheeks and the way his features soften when he remembers his words give him away. With a defeated sigh, he runs a hand through his hair.
“Yes.” He admits, an unknown feeling swelling in the pit of his stomach.
That’s all you needed to hear. 
Placing your palms on each side of his face, you pull him towards you in what you thought would be a romantic show of your feelings.
Instead, you underestimate his height and your lips crash into his nose instead. Seungmin stiffens in surprise, at the sudden proximity of your face to his and the accidental kiss you pressed on his nose, and then he laughs. 
Seungmin laughs in the hopeless, clumsy, breathless, exhilarating kind of laugh that sends your cheeks flushing and your heart fluttering because you’ve missed that laugh so much.
He was never sure he acted right that night, that he wasn’t being selfish. But with your palms in his cheeks and your eyes reciprocating the same love all along, he knows he did the right thing. So, with a gentle sigh of relief, he tilts his head and presses his lips against yours. 
Seungmin feels like he can finally breathe again. He kisses you with every love and affection he’s kept hidden for years and years.
You were venturing into the void of the unknown again, kissing your best friend, but it feels safe. There wasn’t that fear of the uncharted. There was only comfort as it always has been with him. The weight of happiness is so overwhelming, and Seungmin thinks there’s nothing more beautiful than kissing you after years of longing.
When the both of you pull away, the feeling of his arms around your waist and his forehead pressed against yours and the fond look on his face sends you toppling over. This was the image of your dreams.
He mirrors the soft smile on your face, hand moving to trace your face and your jaw before placing another kiss on your nose, and your cheek, and the corner of your lips. Your skin tingles at the way his lips and his warm breath tickles you, and your heart skips a bit when you realize you don’t mind feeling this every day for the rest of your life. 
“Can I hear you say it?” He doesn’t need to say it for you to understand.
“I love you.” 
Seungmin feels wholeheartedly content, heart bursting and ears burning red at hearing you utter those three words he’s dreamt about.
“I’ve loved you since you begged me to come with you to your dentist appointment.” 
And then he laughs again, pressing his pointer finger on your forehead with a slight betrayal in his eyes.
“You’re telling me I could’ve kissed you for years now?” He speaks in exaggeration, and you know he’s truly thinking about it.
“You have all the time in the world now.”
“You know what? I like the sound of that.” He moves his hands from your face in favor of wrapping them around your waist – pulling you in the type of hug where you can completely relax against him and melt into his familiar intimacy. The one that’s been there all along, although a little held back. 
You don’t know what’s next. With the vastness and unpredictability of the earth you stand on, you don’t know what follows. The busy morning highway is starting to fill your ears, and the sound of lives starting echos from afar. Somewhere in the distance, someone’s phone rings and there’s a sound of laughing and running from students alike. 
You find that in the chorus of laughter and honking horns and ringtones, the world is telling you that you don’t have to know what’s next. All you need to know is the inhale and exhale and the quietness that Seungmin’s heart offers. 
He’ll be here for a long time, continuing to know and know and know and love you.
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eighteen.
8:24am
jeongin: FUCKING FINALLY
minho: ????
chan: language
8:25am
jeongin: (sent a picture)
hyunjin: oh my god????
changbin: our seungmin’s a big boy now
jisung: wdym i wont have to hear seungmin’s mopy ass anymore
chaeryeong: ^^ same with yn :(( but also so happy lol
8:26am
ryujin: EVERYONE CHEERED
jeongin: everyone say thank you jeongin
winter: u mean thank u winter???
hyunjin: felix is crying again
chan: WHY
felix: love is beautiful
changbin: me and who
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note. hi hi thank u for making it to the very end of my first ever stray kids fic. i hope you ended up enjoying the ride ^_^ lmk what u thought and who i should write for next!
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tootiecakes234 · 6 months
Text
The Bet (Part 3)
Warnings: smut, MDNI
Katsuki’s POV
Day 2:
When I fell asleep last night she was on one side of the bed and I was on the other. I did that on purpose cuz it sucks waking up with my dick hard and pressed against her. Having to peel myself away with no satisfaction.
So imagine my surprise when I wake up in the exact position I was trying to avoid. I think i might’ve been rutting against her before I woke cuz I’m leaking precum and tucked between her thighs. Fuck me.
I have patrol early this morning, so I force myself to get up take a very long, very cold shower. This bet was kicking my ass. The fact that I couldn’t fuck her only made me want to do it more.
I was so thankful for work today because at least it gave me a distraction.
I got dressed, made myself a quick breakfast and headed out.
I was on patrol with one of my sidekicks this morning. She was really capable and I trusted her so it was more so that I was supervising and teaching instead of taking lead. It was pretty slow for a Sunday actually.
Everything was going so smoothly until I suddenly get a text on my personal phone. I knew it was from Y/N before I even pulled it out because she had taken my phone and given herself her own special ringtone.
I open the message and almost drop and shatter my goddamn phone.
“Mr. Bakugo, are you ok??”, my side kick was looking at me like I was crazy. I could feel the flush from my toes up to the top of my damn head.
“ ‘m fine. Stay sharp and holler if you need me. I gotta make a call”, I said starting to walk away.
I heard her call out a “yessir”
The phone rang one time before she answered my call.
“Hey Katsuki. What’s up?”, she had the nerve to ask that like she didn’t know why I was calling her!
“Y/N…. You’ve lost your goddamn mind. I’m at work! Saving lives! And you’re sending me nudes!!”, I was scream yelling because there were people walking by.
“Are you saying you don’t like them? I got all dolled up for you and it took a lot of work to get an angle where you could see…. Everything.”, her voice had dropped down to this sultry tone.
My cock was starting to harden. She’s stepped up her game.
“Ha you’re good. You caught me off guard with this. And yea I like the picture… any angle that shows that pretty pussy of mine is a good angle.”
“Mmmm I’m glad you like it. I wanted to brighten up your day.”
“You think you’re so smart huh? You’re playing with fire sweet girl. You’re gonna end up with a burn mark on your ass”, my voice had dropped a few octaves.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time Kats.”
“Not a fucking threat princess, it’s a promise… coming. Hey I’ve gotta go. Don’t forget about that reservation tonight. Love ya.” Then I cut the line. I had to get back to work.
I can’t let her win. I won’t let her distract me any further. I can’t believe she had the nerve to call me the devil. She was in for it whenever I got home.
The rest of my day at work flew by. I was there later than I expected because I was catching up on paperwork, so I was rushing to get home in time to change before our reservations.
I got home and Y/N wasn’t in the front room. I just know this woman isn’t still getting ready. I was already rushing and she’s had all day to be prepared for this. I pushed open the door to our room and before me was picture out of a fucking wet dream.
If I died and this was the last thing I saw, I’d die happy. It took her calling my name rather loudly maybe more than once before I snapped out of it.
“What?? What did you say?”
“I said you’ve gotta hurry and change or we are going to be late”, she said and she was sporting the cockiest smirk I’ve ever seen on her face.
“That’s what you’re wearing?”, I asked her just to clarify.
This woman had on a red dress, my favorite color. Her boobs were perched high in her chest and that dress looked like it was made just for her. She also had on these strappy, black heels that wrapped up her calves. Her hair was pinned up and she had on this red lipstick that matched that dress perfectly.
Fuck me. I think she was trying to kill me.
“This old thing…. I figured I’d finally pull it out of the closet.”
“Y/N I know all your clothes. This dress is new.”
“Whoops, you’ve caught me in a lie…I hung out with Mina today and we stumbled across this. I thought you might like it”, the shit eating grin on her face was the only thing keeping me from sinking to my knees right then and there. I was not going to give her the satisfaction of caving now.
“Yea it looks nice enough”, I huffed at her, “I’m gonna hurry up and get ready so we can leave.”
I walked past her and smelled her. She was also wearing my favorite sent of hers. She pulled out all the big guns. She thinks tonight going to be the night she gets me.
Well she’s got another thing coming.
But first… another cold shower. I’m only human.
While I was getting ready, I remembered that she loves seeing me in a button up and apparently white brings out my eyes or some shit. So I put on a white button up, black jeans and a pair of black tennis shoes she’d bought me for my birthday. I threw on my gold chain and a couple rings on my fingers. I’ll be damned if I’m gonna be the only one foaming at the mouth.
I walk out of the room and she’s sitting at the bar with her back to me.
“You ready to go?”
She turned around to look at me and she thought I didn’t see the way her eyes glossed a little and her breath hitched. She tried to hurry and cover it with a small smile on her lips. She hopped down out of her seat and grabbed her purse, which must go with her outfit because lord knows she doesn’t need it.
“Yup let’s hit it hot stuff”
“Wait”, I walked over to her and wrapped one of my arms around her waist and my other hand reached to tip her face up toward me. “Wanna kiss you, don’t wanna fuck up your makeup.”
“One kiss won’t ruin my makeup”, she said all soft and breathy.
“Mmmm it will the way I want to do it.”, I pulled away from her enough to grab her hand and bring her knuckles up to my lips. I kissed each individual knuckle before kissing her wrist and pressing a few more up the length of her forearm. I locked eyes with her once more, “ let’s go princess, we are running late.”
I interlocked our fingers and guided her out to the car. I opened her door and help her buckle up before walking to the other side and hopping in.
Payback time.
For some reason I don’t understand, y/n told me she thinks it’s so hot when I turn my whole body around when I back up. I have a back up camera but you bet your sweet ass tonight, I was turning around and flexing slightly while doing so.
On the drive there a slid my hand over her thigh, which I always did, but tonight I might’ve placed it a little higher than usual.
“Katsuki, can you cut it out?”, she said as she placed her hand over mine and stopped the slow circles I was drawing with my thumb.
“Cut what out baby,” I said glancing over at her.
“We both know what you’re doing.”, she was clenching her jaw as well as slightly squeezing her thighs. She glanced down at my hand like she was trying to send me a message.
Oblivious was the best way to go here, “is my hand bothering you? You’ve never complained about it before.”
“Yea probably cuz it wasn’t resting 2 cm away from my vagina.”
“Haha, yea I am kinda close aren’t I? I can feel the heat coming off of it and I’m sure if I slid those 2 cm I could feel how wet you are too.” Right after I finish saying it I slid my hand up and let me pinky rub lightly over her panties and look there. Drenched. She winced like she was in pain.
“Kat!” She said my voice on a moan. Fuck, she was so sensitive.
“Sorry, my hand slipped cuz of that pothole”, I whispered.
“There was no freaking pothole. You’re such an ass”, she tried to grab my hand and take it off her thigh, but this only made me dig a little deeper and press a little harder up against her.
By this point we were pulling up to the restaurant. Lucky her.
When we got out of the car, her panties were soaked and I had to rearrange myself to even be able to walk inside this place.
By this point we were both miserable and unsatisfied. This bet is such bullshit. Whose bright idea was it to do this?
We were at one of our favorite restaurants. When I made the reservation I made it for a booth in the back because this place tended to be really crowded and I didn’t want to be spotted.
We got seated and the conversation started to flow.
“Mina said that she thinks Sero has a secret girlfriend. Has he said anything to you about it?”
“No and even if he did why would I tell you. It’d be a secret for a reason. The two of you are the biggest goss-” I almost fucking choked on my own spit.
“Are you ok Kat? What’s wrong?”, she looked at me like she was genuinely concerned for my well being and not like she just almost caused my death.
She had taken off one of her shoes and her foot was now pressed up against my inner thigh. Before I have time to respond, our waiter is back at our table taking our orders.
The entire time he’s there, she’s gently stroking her foot up and down and at what point it brushes up against my cock and I fumble over my words.
The waiter just laughs it off like I’m just some idiot having a stroke and when I look over at y/n she has the nerve to be laughing too.
When he finally leaves she takes her foot back and continues on like nothing happened.
“I’m gonna run to the bathroom. Brb.” She said as she started getting up.
I just nodded my head at her. I needed time to get my shit together. This is not going well. I have to get a handle on this situation and fast, but she came back to fast. I didn’t have time to prepare anything.
The rest of dinner went off without any problems though. Maybe she was struggling just as bad as me. Maybe we were going to call it for tonight.
Wishful thinking.
While we are outside, waiting for the valet to pull the car up, y/n comes up real close to me slides something into my pants pocket. When she pulls back there’s a smirk on her lips.
“What the fuck is that?” And all she does is shrug at me.
When I reach down and start pulling it out, I realize very quickly that it’s her panties. Her damp panties.
“ Y/n when did you take these off?”, my voice came out like I was growling. My self restraint is hanging on by a thread.
“When I went to the bathroom earlier.” She then came up to me wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me.
My hands automatically grab at her ass because that’s what they’ve been wanting to do all night.
She could be a siren. I could actually know for a fact that she is a siren and at this point I’d happily walk my dumbass into the ocean and let her drown me.
I feel like I’m in a trance and the only thing that breaks it is the valet driver clearing his throat to get our attention.
The drive home is quiet. I don’t attempt to tease her any further because if I put my hands on her again I know I won’t stop. I’ve gotta try and get home. Lock myself in my office. That’s my game plan.
Tell her I have some work to do and just stay in there until she’s asleep because I’m at my breaking point.
Initially the plans going great. We get in the house, I hurry up and change, and then head to my office.
Done. Easy. I survived another day and tomorrow she’ll have work so it can’t possibly be this bad.
That is until I hear a little knock on my office door.
“Come in.”
“Hey, how long are you going to be working?”, she asked.
She’d changed too, into an oversized tshirt and she had her little fuzzy slippers on. Fucking adorable.
“‘M not sure. I’ve got a few things I need to get done tonight. Why are you still up?”
She walks over to me looks at me expectantly. I push my chair back from my desk enough for her to slide into my lap.
“Kats”
“Hmm?”
“Are you miserable too? This bet is stupid and I’ve been hot and bothered all day.”, she was mumbling against the side of my head.
“You went out of your way today to make sure I was miserable you heathen. My dick has been at least half hard since I woke and blue balls doesn’t even begin to describe the shit I’m going through.”
She has the nerve to chuckle at that but it wasn’t a damn joke.
“Is that why you’re in here pretending to work? Cuz you don’t wanna come to bed with me?”
“Y/n I-“ her lips cut me off. She moved so fast. She went from sitting on one leg to straddling me. I could feel her tits pressed up against and with the way her pussy was radiating heat against my sweats, I could tell she had no panties on.
She was grinding down against me and her tongue was in my mouth.
The next thing I know one of my hands has slipped past her shirt in the back and is rubbing her wetness around. And do I fucking mean wet. I’m sure there’s a big ass spot on the front of my pants. The other hand is tweaking her nipples. She’s a whimpering mess now and I’m panting like I just finished running a marathon.
“K-kit Kat…we have to stop”
“Say it… say it and let me fuck you. You know you want it.”, I started pressing sloppy kisses all up and down her neck and I was running slow circles around her clit, “say it.”
She’s right there, on the brink. I can tell it’s on the tip of her tongue and right when I think she’s going to actually do it, shes jumping off my lap like I’m on fire.
“What? Where the hell are you going?”, I was so sure this was it. I could taste the victory on my tongue.
“I-I’m g-going to bed.” She was trying to get her breathing under control just like I was.
She started making her way out of this office. She was really going to leave like this.
What the actual fuck?
“Please” I didnt comprehend until after I said it that I had already sunk to my knees. The word flew out of my mouth as soon as I saw her hand on the door handle.
I’d fucking lost.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4
*my first trying to write in someone else’s pov… so don’t be mean.
Also I got carried away and I know this is super duper long.
There will be a part 4 with the smut. It will be be back to readers POV.
Enjoy.
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extasiswings · 10 days
Text
Post-4x13 Fics
I was going to go on a reblog spree, but instead figured I would just put all of my S4 finale spec/post-4x13/S5 spec fics in one handy list.
some things you just can't speak about
A collection of S4 finale spec fics.
a flower in a gun (a bird in flight)
Even if Buck felt the same—and Eddie isn’t convinced of that, doesn’t have the arrogance to assume—what right does he have to say please, to say wait, to ask Buck to put his life on hold indefinitely while Eddie sorts through the tangled mess in his head in the hope that one day he’ll finally be ready? He can’t be that selfish. Especially not with Buck. [Or: in the aftermath of the shooting, love endures.]
mark me like a bloodstain (or a tattoo kiss)
Eddie finds words difficult. So he comes up with other ways to show how he feels. [For the prompt: "You've always felt like home."]
stars choose their lovers (save my soul)
Most of the time, Buck feels like there’s no one in the world who understands Eddie as well as he does. Most of the time. Because there are still some other times when he’s completely in the dark.
safety and home
The thing Eddie remembers most about the shooting isn’t the shot itself, or the pain, or even the fear—it’s the cold. [Or: Eddie dreams of drowning]
burning like a slow flame
For the prompt: "I felt it shelter to speak to you." “With all due respect, Mr. Diaz,” the doctor says, “you’re in the emergency room because of an acute stress response in which your brain tricked your body into believing you were in danger to such an extent that you thought you were dying. I’m not sure you’re as fine as you think.”
slipping away (call on me)
For the prompt: "I exist in two places, here and where you are." Buck feels like he lost part of himself when he watched Eddie being rolled through the emergency doors and he hasn’t gotten it back. There’s a hollow space in his chest crowding out his lungs so he can’t draw a full breath, squeezing his heart so his blood isn’t circulating properly. He’s a shade. Half-alive. And the other half left on a city street, in an ambulance bay, in a hospital room.
paint me a heaven with your bloodied mouth
Buck. Four letters. One syllable. Eddie knows it’s a nickname. He doesn’t know why Buck picked it or why Buck seems to use it exclusively, but he figures it isn’t really his business. And also that it probably isn’t that deep—all of them use nicknames at work or otherwise in their daily lives. Eddie himself might find it weird if anyone outside of his immediate family suddenly started using his full name regularly after so many years of only rarely hearing it from anyone else. So. Eddie calls Buck "Buck." And he doesn’t think anything of it. At least…not at first.
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sister-lucifer · 1 year
Text
Apology, With Tears 
Lucifer x Gender Neutral Reader
Genre: Fluff, Angst/Comfort
Summary: Lucifer comforts you during a hard time, and reminds you that your feelings are always welcome with him
Content/Warnings: Comfort, guilt, angst with happy ending, implied venting (the source of anguish itself isn’t specified, please project whatever issue you may be having onto this fic /srs)
Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio! 
Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 
Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)
Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!
“I-I’m sorry….” 
Your voice was so small. Shockingly, terrifyingly so. For a moment Lucifer froze, unsure if he had really heard it. The words were as fragile as a single snowflake landing on the bare concrete, ready to break and melt into oblivion at any moment. They were as quiet as the coo of a dove in a raging thunderstorm, and yet they shook Lucifer to his very core. 
“Excuse me?” 
“I’m sorry, Lucifer…” 
There was a small part of him that thought maybe the repetition would bring clarity, but no such luck. Gently he hooked two fingers under your chin, tilting your head up towards him in a slow manner so that you’d have ample opportunity to resist him if you’d like. 
You did not. You allowed him to meet your eyes with his. 
That was the softest you’ve ever seen his gaze. 
The sharp brows that were usually taut with annoyance were furrowed just slightly in such a way that you could tell Lucifer didn’t even know he was doing it. He would never purposely let concern show so obviously, but it seems he was preoccupied with other, more pressing concerns at the moment. 
Something sorrowful in the swirling red of his eyes stabbed into your heart with a pang of guilt. To know you had caused Lucifer—the chronically overworked head of house—such worry brought a heaving sob from you. 
The last of your resilience disappeared like a flame in the wind. The tears flowed freely, and there was no stopping them. They ran fast down your cheeks and fell into your shaking palms and stained your shirt. They were shamefully, burning hot, like liquid fire on your face, but once they fell to your lap you could not feel them. You brought up an arm to cover your eyes, the tears soaking into your sleeve and soon after your skin. 
“I’m…I’m sorry, I—“ 
“Please, please stop saying that, my love….” 
The words are surprising, but even in your shock you can’t bring yourself to look up at Lucifer. 
“Why…” He begins, at a loss for words for the first time since he can remember. 
“…Why do you keep apologizing?” 
You thought you’d have an immediate answer, and yet when you open your mouth no words come. That should be an easy question. You knew why. 
Didn’t you? 
You have to search a bit more before you even think of speaking. 
“I just…I feel bad for…b-being like this—“ 
“Being like what?!” Lucifer interrupts, and now his confusion and desperation is showing through. He’s not raising his voice and yet his words hold a sense of urgency akin to that of a scream for help. He isn’t angry, but he is so overwhelmingly worried. 
“I…I-I shouldn’t…” You have to fish around in the word pool a bit more before pulling out the right ones. “I shouldn’t be…making you deal with this, i-it’s my problem, I can handle it, I…” 
The pause is heavy. Unbearably, crushingly heavy. 
“I shouldn’t be doing this to you…” 
It is in this moment that Lucifer’s black heart shatters into countless pieces. The larger fragments linger in their place, the smaller splinters go flying off in all directions. It is likely that he will never recover all of them. There is no way to when something like this happens. He knows that you have felt the same. You have lost many pieces of your heart along the way here. 
Fortunately, Lucifer has some to spare. 
“You aren’t doing anything to me, my love…” He assures you, taking your hands in his. His grip is loose, encouraging you to follow his movements instead of forcing you. 
“You talk about yourself as if you are some terrible, laborious thing that must be dealt with against all will. I’m not here because I am forced to or because I feel I must, or else. If I thought this wasn’t a serious matter I would have walked out of this room long ago.” 
He’s right. You know he’s right. Living with six unruly little brothers means Lucifer has a very high tolerance for emotional turmoil. You’ve seen him shoo his bickering brothers away or send an injured Mammon off with no more than a ‘good luck’ and a wave of his hand. He knew his brothers could deal with themselves. 
But you? You were not them, but he still knew exactly what you needed.
“You are not some heavy burden forced on my shoulders, I choose to be here. You have nothing to apologize for because I am asking you to seek me out for help.” 
A gloved thumb wipes a tear from your cheek, and for the first time you meet Lucifer’s gaze on your own. His expression is lighter somehow,  brows not pressed quite so tightly together. 
“Hardships cannot be endured alone, that is a fact. They are meant to be shared. So please, no more ‘sorry.’ Apologies are for when you do something wrong…like how a certain twin keeps eating the drywall in the common room…” 
You can’t help but laugh at that. It’s weak, hardly intelligible through your labored breathing, but Lucifer hears it. 
The smile that crosses his lips is merely a ghost, gone in a moment. 
But you see it. 
It comforts you in such a way that it destroys every defensive wall you had been fighting so hard to keep up. Suddenly you’re reaching for him, gripping onto his uniform shirt with aching fingers before pulling him to you. A loud sob echoes through you as you hide your face against his chest, hot tears leaving trails down his button up. 
If you were anyone else in any other scenario, Lucifer would probably be a bit appalled at how you were ruining his freshly ironed uniform. 
And yet, the thought never even crossed his mind.
A tender hand strokes the back of your head, and the other ushers you up into a more comfortable sitting position in his lap. 
He doesn’t shush you, or tell you it’s okay, because it isn’t. But it doesn’t have to be. He knows you will calm yourself in your own time. 
Until then, he is more than content to stay right here. 
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sokoviansimp · 2 months
Text
Control
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✒ Pairings: dom!wanda x subAgent!femreader, bestfriend!Nat x bestfriend!reader
✒ Summary: New experiences provide clarity and confusion as you begin your training with Wanda.
✒ Tags and Warnings: 18+! Mature themes, mind control, early dom/sub dynamics, enemies to lovers, slow burn
✒ Author's Note: sorry this took so long, I'm a slow writer and I was really sick for two weeks.
✒ Word Count: 8973
✒ Read Time: 20 minutes
Masterlist : Socials : Series Masterlist
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After weeks of recovery, you were finally allowed to sleep in your own room. Though, to your surprise, all of your belongings were moved from your room at the SHIELD base to one inside the compound. The thought of being in another foreign place instead of the comfort of your familiar bedroom was almost as bad as knowing a team of agents had gone through all of your private things.
You were brought up to a room on the third floor. It wasn’t completely on purpose, but it had just so worked out that floor two housed the males on the team, and floor three had the females, which was just Wanda and Natasha, and now you. Nat wanted to keep you close during your recovery and introduction to the team. She also felt it was fitting for you to be close to Wanda if she was meant to be your mentor.
Nat made sure to show you around the entire floor as she introduced you to your new room, “I’m sure you’re tired so I won’t stay, but if you need anything I’m right down the hall, and Wanda is right next door,” she assured.
“Thanks, Nat,” you said genuinely, thankful for everything she’s done for you throughout this experience. She was the best friend you had and she always earned that position with the way she cared for you. The two of you were soulmates in a way that sometimes, only friends can be.
Once you were left alone in your room, you quickly realized how tired you truly were. It was late in the afternoon by this point and you had a long day as doctors came in and out to give you dismissal plans and best practices. While it wasn’t your typical bedtime yet, you decided that you’d rather get rest now so that you could have a full day back to the real world tomorrow.
As you moved around the room to get ready for bed, you appreciated the effort of whoever transported your things. It was clear that they attempted to put everything as closely as possible back to the way it was in your previous living arrangements. The room was a different layout so it was impossible to be exact, but you could tell that they put care in settling you in.
Even in the new environment, it felt nice to go through your nightly routine again. It really made the moment when you finally sunk down into the fresh sheets that much cozier. You put on some sitcoms from the 2000s, but you knew you’d fall asleep before it was over. The television was loud enough to understand with captions and soft enough to allow you to drift off to sleep as you wished.
About a week goes by as Nat familiarizes you with all of the amenities and protocols to get you adjusted as a permanent resident of the compound, and when she’s busy, she has Wanda take over. You notice that your tiredness isn’t improving at all. You’ve always been known for being chill and easygoing, and you always felt tired in some way, that was just normal for you. Since the incident, though, your exhaustion has felt like it’s grown tenfold. The doctors expected that you’d be nearing full recovery by 2 weeks, but you felt something must be off track.
By the end of the week; you’re getting sick of being babied, and even though you haven't fully recovered you think you might just go crazy without some fresh air. You didn’t make your way down to the kitchen for breakfast until almost 11:30am, where Wanda was already preparing lunch.
“Got a full night’s sleep?” Wanda sarcastically pondered aloud as you tiredly shuffled through the cabinets for some ceral.
“Doesn’t feel like it,” you grogily answered as you added milk to your frosted flakes.
“Maybe you should go back to bed then,” Wanda suggested
As if the suggestion alone gave you a burst of energy, you sprung back, “Oh no. I am done laying around like a potato! I am not spending a single solitary second in my room until I get outside for some fresh air.” there was a beat of silence once you finished your short rant, as if Wanda felt like you needed a breather after your small outburst.
“Alright- Well we can go out back and work on controlling your powers,” she offered once the silence ran its course.
“Yes! Perfect!” you confirmed as you took the first bite of your cereal.
Once Wanda finished up her lunch, she sat across from you to eat in mostly silence. It was a comfortable silence though, the crunch of your cereal breaking it ever so slightly. The two of you sat there and scrolled on your phones until your food was finished. You thoroughly cleaned your plate while you waited for Wanda to finish up her meal.
Even though you were quite familiar with the compound, visiting Nat often. You had no idea what surrounded the area. Adversely, Wanda spent a lot of time exploring the terrain that the compound sat within, especially when she was first adjusting to her new home. She explored to take her mind off of the events that led her to reside at the compound and forget about the clinical aesthetic that lacked any personality or comfort. It gave her an outlet that felt like an escape from reality.
“Where are we going?” You felt like she was leading you to some secret secluded area where no one could hear you scream, and in a way, she was.
“To work on your control,” that wasn’t the answer you were looking for. So you did what you do best, offer a snarky response.
You huffed, “That’s exactly what someone would say before leading me to certain torture, where no one can hear me scream,” you said with a dramatic undertone.
She looked back at you, slightly chuckling, “If I wanted to torture you, I wouldn’t drag you all the way out here to do it,” she bit back confidently with a sly smile creeping up, giving you a shiver down your spine that you blamed on the wind.
The spot that she settled at overlooked a mountain in the distance with a river flowing between the perch where the two of you stood. By the lookout, there was a long log makeshift to act as a bench, which Wanda frequently used to sit and ponder her thoughts and feelings. No one else really knew this spot existed other than her, she never spoke about it or showed anyone else until now. She wasn’t too keen on showing you her sacred getaway spot, but it was the safest place she could think of to practice your powers.
You gushed over the gorgeous area as soon as the overlook became clear and revealed its true beauty. The trees became more sparse as you walked, and the view opened up for you showcasing the natural landscape, “Wow, this is- it’s beautiful out here. I never knew this spot existed.”
“Yeah, no one does and I’d like to keep it that way,” Wanda said pointedly, ensuring that you weren’t going to start blabbing about it to the entire compound. If Tony got wind of it, surely he’d start building infrastructure around it and Wanda would lose her favorite spot.
Your hands shot up in defense, “Of course, I won’t tell a soul,” you confirmed.
Wanda, with an unamused look in your direction, “Not even Natasha.”
“Oh. Yeah, uh. Well, glad you clarified. Not even Natasha. Where should we tell them we are?” You asked, trying to come up with a story now because you aren’t very good at lying or even withholding information from your best friend, especially if you have to think it up on the spot.
“They won’t ask.”
Unfortunately for you, even if she doesn't ask, chances are high that you’d offer up the information accidentally anyway. You needed to come up with a cover story now to get it out of the way so that you dont have to come up with an explanation on the spot, “Well, what if they do? I just feel like we should be on the same page here.” you pushed.
“Y/N, it’s not that deep. Just say that we went to the other side of the compound grounds. See the river here?” you nodded, shifting your focus to the flowing water, “It spills into a massive lake on the other side of the compound.”
You acknowledged her explanation and with that, you were able to carry on with whatever Wanda had planned for you. She didn't have a particularly thought-out plan in place, but she had an outline of the steps she figured you would need to go through to grasp control of your abilities.
In order to help you, she needed to know what she was working with and how much power you truly wielded. After plenty of hesitation from you and coaxing from her, you outstretched your arm toward the mountain, “Go on, give it everything you’ve got,” Wanda encouraged.
Try as you might, nothing happened. Your muscles tensed as you attempted to make something happen, but you were stood there looking like a fool, “It’s- nothing’s happening!” you grunted as you let your arm fall back down to your side in frustration.
Wanda couldn’t help but chuckle, “Wow, finally something you’re not perfect at on the first try.” she claimed.
This hit a bit of a soft spot for you, “Contrary to popular belief, Maximoff, I’m rarely good at anything on my first try. I spent countless hours of practice and training to be where I am today.”
“Try again then” Wanda responded plainly, not fully convinced of the pity card you were playing.
You outstretched your arm again, trying to make something happen, but nothing did. Frustration began taking over and you tried again, with all your might you were trying to make something, anything, happen.
Wanda saw the way you became aggravated and quickly put a stop to it when she noticed your face getting red. Even though she enjoyed watching you struggle, she was nervous the effort you were putting in could become a hazard if you suddenly released the right type of energy.
“Ok, that’s enough. Take a breather,” she said as she reached out to put your hand back at your side and gently rubbed your arm in a soothing motion to calm you down. You took a breath, gathering yourself back together.
“Let’s try this,” Wanda started as she captured your gaze, “Close your eyes,” she waited for you to follow suit, but you hesitated, afraid of the vulnerability, “come on. Just do it,” she pushed, and you starkly fell into line. Wanda couldn’t help but smile at the way you jolted to follow her command.
“Good,” she approved, which brought that same tingle to your body from earlier. You’re not sure that you’ve ever heard praise leave her mouth directed your way. The redhead reached out with a featherlike touch and glided her pointer finger along your arm, “Now take a deep breath and focus on this feeling,” she moved from your left arm to the top of your neck, dragging down the middle of your back. It felt like your skin was on fire at this point, every small touch reverberating 10-fold across your body. “Feel how the energy in your body moves.” She practically whispered in a hushed tone.
You could feel it, everything was so sensitive. You weren’t sure if it was because you were actually paying attention to the way the air met your skin, or because of the way Wanda was gliding her fingers across, “Do you feel that?” Wanda questioned, barely audible so as to not break your concentration, causing you to slowly nod in confirmation as you continued to breathe slowly.
Removing her fingers from your skin, Wanda took a step back from you, “Now keep that same focus and raise your left arm out in front of you.” You did as you were told, slowly raising your arm and letting it hang until she gave further instruction, “Perfect, now shift that focus to your left hand. Don’t pay attention to anything else,” she stated firmly, “just my words and the feeling of energy flowing to your hand”
She could tell you were concentrating hard by the way your brow furrowed ever so slightly. “Now, imagine the energy flowing from the tips of your fingers. Concentrate everything to your hand and imagine it pushing out.”
You did as she said, and you were so focused on the feeling in your hand that any minuscule movement felt similar to a creaky floorboard. Soon enough, your hand started to tingle and you even felt the temperature begin to rise.
“That’s it, now push it through, get rid of it.” Wanda guided. You could feel the energy slowly reverberating from your hand in waves, it was slow at first but once it was out you quickly ramped up to a more sizable wave of low-frequency acoustic energy.
You were quickly losing control of it as the seismic waves grew quicker than you anticipated. Without even knowing what happened, you felt a comforting fog take over your mind, and your arm quickly dropped to your side. You stood there in complete bliss until the fog faded fully from your mind, “Y/N?” Wanda interrupted, “How are you feeling?”
You turned around to face her, “Tired,” you said with hooded eyes. Using your powers took a lot out of you, especially when you were already tired to begin with, “-but, that felt amazing!”
Wanda smiled in return, “I know, getting a hang of your powers is a really good feeling, I remember when I-”
“No, the feeling that came after, it was like my brain shifted and went into a different state. It was so relaxing. Does that happen to you when you use your powers too?”
That wasn’t the answer Wanda was expecting, “Oh, no Y/N. What you felt was me, using my powers on you. I noticed you were having trouble keeping pace with the volume of waves, so I stepped in to break off the outburst,” she explained.
“Oh.” that made sense, you weren’t sure how you were able to stop so easily when moments before it felt like you were losing control. That feeling though, god it felt amazing. Part of you craved it as if everything fell into place in that moment. “Can we go back now? I’m so tired,” you asked as a yawn escaped like a bookend to your query.
“Already? We just got here.” Wanda teased before she remembered you’re still in recovery mode. “Yeah, I’m really tired,” you slurred as fatigue slammed into you similar to the force of a freight train and you visibly stumbled trying to keep upright. Wanda quickly caught you and guided you over to the nearby rock to sit for a moment, “I-I’m sorry, I just-” you started to apologize but Wanda cut you off, “Y/N stop, you don’t need to apologize.” she reassured you, and when you looked up to meet her gaze you were surprised to see the complete absence of anger or disgust, something you weren't used to.
Once you got ahold of your bearings, the two of you headed straight to the compound. Upon entering, you immediately plopped onto the nearest thing available to sleep on, which just happened to be the couch in the common room, not even bothering to make the trek upstairs to your bedroom.
“Y/N, I think we should go to the med bay and get you checked out,” Wanda stated trying to urge you off of the couch.
“Mmm, later,” you responded groggily as if you were half asleep already.
“Come on, surely your bed is cozier than this,” Wanda persisted, but there was no response this time. She stood there for a couple of seconds longer, staring at your form and waiting to see your chest rise and fall a couple of times before heading off to the medbay to get Bruce’s opinion. She didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing, and she would surely never admit it, but she cared about your well-being.
Bruce assured Wanda that she was right in bringing this to his attention, while not urgent, it would be best to get you checked out. You should be recovered enough by this point that extreme exhaustion shouldn’t come so easily.
You woke up a few hours later and after pouring yourself a bowl of cereal, you headed up to your room. Hearing the movement, and soft noise of the TV turning on through the walls of your room, the woman next door made her way over to knock on your door.
“Come in!” you called from the bed, as you kept your attention on the TV knowing it was only Nat coming in to hang out.
“How are you feeling?”
Taken off guard by a different voice, you did a double take, “Wanda? Sorry I was expecting Nat. You just caught me off guard. I’m feeling better, just needed a nap.” you explained, trying to straighten your posture and appear like you’ve miraculously healed with that short nap.
“That’s good! I spoke to Bruce and-” Wanda began, before you cut in, “Spoke to Bruce? What? Why? I’m fine!” you blurted out, hating the thought of being brought back to medbay for further testing, you’ve always hated doctors, and especially hospitals. With how much time you’ve spent in a hospital the last month, if you never went back, it’d be too soon.
“He said you shouldn’t be tired anymore, and it’d be good to get checked out.” She explained.
You shook your head, “I’m fine Wanda. This is nothing new for me, being tired is my normal. Now, if you’ll excuse me, the best part is coming up.” You say motioning to the sitcom you had playing on the tv.
“When Clair tells Phil that she was too lazy to wait in line for his iPad?” Wanda challenged knowing exactly what episode you were watching, figuring you were just trying to get rid of her.
“No. Well, kind of I guess, but after that Phil goes to the batting cages as a coping mechanism.” you clarified.
“How is that the best part?” Wanda pushed for a more in depth explanation.
Part of you felt like you shouldn’t have to explain yourself, but another deeper part of you almost wanted to open up and let Wanda into all the details of your life, “Softball was a big part of my childhood, so it always felt like the batting cages were a safe place for me too, a place to stop overthinking and just focus on things like my stance or the angles I caught the ball at.”
It’s not the answer Wanda expected, but it made a lot of sense now, “You crash birthdays there too, or is that just a Phil thing?”
You both let out a laugh, “No, no. Phil takes the cake on that one.”
“Mind if I join?” she phrased it as a question, but she closed the door and moved to sit next to you on your bed before receiving an answer, and treating it more as a statement.
Not knowing how to decline at that point, or if you even wanted to you just kind of shook your head awkwardly and turned the volume up. The two of you sat in silence, other than the crunch of your cereal and the laughter you shared at the funny parts.
Together you watched about 2.5 episodes before the cozy atmosphere lulled you into a peaceful slumber. Wanda hadn’t even noticed you were sleeping until she glanced over because you weren’t laughing anymore. She couldn’t help but take note of your contorted position, clearly uncomfortable.
Concern etched subtly across her features, Wanda gently shook your shoulder, trying to rouse you from your deep sleep. "Hey, Y/N," she whispered softly, "you're sleeping in a pretty awkward position. You should move."
Y/N stirred, emitting a soft whine in response, but made no effort to adjust her position. Wanda sighed softly, realizing that coaxing Y/N awake might prove to be a challenge. With a gentle touch, she brushed a strand of hair away from Y/N's face, a fond smile tugging at her lips.
"You're stubborn, you know that?" Wanda murmured affectionately, her fingers tracing your cheek. "Fine, I guess I'll take care of you then."
With careful hands, Wanda eased you into a more comfortable position, tucking a pillow under your head and arranging the blankets around you. As she watched you settle into a deeper sleep, a warmth that she hadn’t expected filled Wanda's heart.
With that realization, she hurried out of your room as quickly as she could without disturbing you and pushing any positive feeling she suddenly felt toward you as far away as she could. God, she couldn’t stand you. Once she got back to her own quarters she asked F.R.I.D.A.Y to send both you and Bruce a reminder to look into your exhaustion so that she wouldn’t have to bring it up with you again.
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Your footsteps quickened as you rounded the corner, hoping to evade Bruce's watchful gaze. The prospect of returning to the medbay filled you with a sense of unease, a heavy feeling you couldn't quite shake.
Bruce, Wanda, and now even Natasha had all been insistent on your follow-up examination, but you continued to make excuses and delay the inevitable. The sterile scent of antiseptic and the cold, clinical atmosphere of the medbay sent shivers down your spine, stirring up memories you'd rather forget.
With each passing moment, your anxiety mounted, a knot tightening in your stomach at the mere thought of facing medical procedures and probing questions. You knew Bruce and Nat meant well, you were still on guard with Wanda, but the fear of hospitals and medical procedures was deeply ingrained within you. Years spent avidly making sure no one else was privy to this fear because being a SHIELD agent requires bravery and courage, so how could you be a good agent and simultaneously be afraid of the doctor? You couldn’t. No one could know.
As you ducked into a nearby corridor looking over your shoulder, you were relieved to find Bruce's figure out of sight. But the guilt gnawed at you, knowing you were avoiding someone who was only trying to help for the sake of your own discomfort.
Yet, the fear of hospitals felt overwhelming, you felt a sort of primal instinct that seemed to grip you tighter with each step. You couldn't bring yourself to face it head-on, not yet anyway.
With a heavy sigh, you resolved to ignore the issue until it went away. For now, you’d continue to dodge Bruce's attempts at persuasion.
Days passed with you mostly keeping to yourself, Nat was away on a mission for a few days so that made things a bit easier. When you did venture out of your room for things like food and drinks, you made sure to scout out the area before entering to ensure you wouldn’t run into anyone.
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As Wanda busies herself in the kitchen, the air is infused with an enticing medley of aromas that dance and mingle, creating a sensory symphony.
The rich, savory scent of sautéed onions fills the air, their sweet fragrance wafting from the skillet as Wanda expertly caramelizes them to perfection. The gentle sizzle of the onions echoes through the kitchen, a comforting sound that signals the beginning of a culinary masterpiece.
Next comes the earthy aroma of garlic, its pungent essence mingling with the sweetness of the onions to create a harmonious blend of flavors. As Wanda minces the garlic cloves with practiced precision, the kitchen is enveloped in the warm embrace of this aromatic duo.
“Hey Wanda, Have you seen Y/N?” Bruce asks, entering the kitchen and immediately bing hit with the aroma of Wanda’s Solyanka dish, “Mmm, smells good in here!” he added
Wanda smiled at the compliment as she turned to Bruce, “Not in a couple of days, how’d her check-in go?” she asked while continuing to stir the dish.
“It hasn’t, I think she may be avoiding me.” He deadpanned
“What makes you think that?”
“Well, when I first mentioned a follow-up examination to her. She very suddenly had a bunch of things to do and ran off, and I haven't seen her since. This was 4 days ago.” Bruce explained as he rummaged through the fridge for a drink.
Wanda nodded as the gears began to turn in her brain, she let out a hum, “Interesting. F.R.I.D.A.Y where is Y/N now?” she spoke aloud to the artificial assistant.
“Y/N is currently practicing archery in the training sector,” F.R.I.D.A.Y informed.
“Well, at least she’s not in bed,” Wanda dryly chuckled, adding the last bits of tomato to the pot.
Bruce nodded, “Yea, I’d still like to get that follow-up in though. I have a meeting in about 10 minutes, do you think you could talk to her?”
“What, why me?” she practically whined.
Bruce smiled, almost devilish, and simply said “You’re her mentor.” before leaving the room with his glass of mango juice.
Wanda rolled her eyes as she turned back to the pot on the stove, it was almost done. She just needed to put it on low to simmer for a bit. Though, as she made her way out of the kitchen, she almost felt a sense of excitement. Must’ve been because her dish was coming along so nicely, because there’s no way she would ever be excited to see you. Right?
As Wanda made her way to the training sector, her steps purposeful and determined, she couldn't shake the nagging worry that had been gnawing at her since Bruce had mentioned your unscheduled appointments in the medbay.
Spotting you across the training room, Wanda approached with a gentle smile, hoping to broach the subject delicately. But as she drew nearer, she noticed the tension in your posture, the furrow of your brow, and the restless energy that seemed to radiate from your figure.
"Hey, Y/N," Wanda greeted softly, her tone gentle as she approached, "I was looking for you. Bruce mentioned you haven't been to see him yet. Is everything okay?"
Your reaction was immediate, a defensive edge creeping into your voice as you shrugged off Wanda's concern. "Yeah, everything's fine. Just been busy with training, you know how it is."
Wanda wasn't convinced. She could see through the facade, recognizing the telltale signs of agitation and avoidance. Something was clearly bothering you, and she could see it was something you weren't ready to share.
"Wanda, I'm fine," you insisted, your voice tinged with frustration. "I don't need to see Bruce. It's not a big deal. I’m not even tired anymore, I’m literally shooting arrows right now. Would a tired person be doing that?" you reasoned in a rambling fashion.
But Wanda could sense the underlying fear in your words, the unspoken truth you were trying so hard to conceal. She also knew better than to push, because she knew better than anyone that some wounds ran deeper than others and required patience and understanding to heal.
With a reassuring smile, Wanda reached out to gently squeeze your shoulder and before she could even filter her words, her mouth started spewing, "Okay, Y/N. Just know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you. No judgments, I promise."
Your tense expression softened, a flicker of gratitude in your eyes before confusion came crashing in, “Uh- are you feeling ok?” not only was that possibly the nicest thing anyone had ever said, but you were pretty sure it was also the only nice thing Wanda has ever said to you.
Trying to build back her stone-cold composure against you, Wanda snapped back, “What? Have you never had someone see that you’re hurting and be nice to you? God Y/L/N, don’t read too much into it.” she scoffed and turned to leave the training gym, “Class at 6:30 tomorrow morning, don’t be late!” she yelled out on her way to the door, without even turning back around to face you, “OH! And meet up with Bruce!”
“I AM FINE!” you shouted back.
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You made sure to go to bed early that night so that you’d be able to get up early enough to make your meeting with Wanda without some sarcastic comment about your tardiness. It was still difficult but you needed to be on time to help prove your point that you don’t need Bruce, and you don’t need a follow-up exam.
The spot was a lot chillier than the last time you were there, you could still see the morning dew on the grass as the wind softly whipped through the clearing with crisp morning air.
Wanda was already there when you arrived, it was still dark but you could see her scarlet magic carrying her through the air as she set up targets across the way.
“Oh good, you’re finally here,” Wanda commented as she landed back on the ground on your side of the clearing.
“Hey, I was ON TIME. You can’t complain about that.” you defended.
She looked at you with a devilish grin and smugly claimed, “Does S.H.I.E.L.D. teach their agents anything anymore? On-time is late and 10 minutes early is on time.”
You just rolled your eyes in response as you changed the subject to ask about the new additions to the terrain, “What are those for?” you said pointing across the river.
“Something for you to aim at. Come, follow me.” she gestured as she began scaling a nearby boulder. It was easy enough to climb up the side of, almost like nature created it’s own version of stairs. The top provided an even better view of the clearing and a clear visual of where the sky hangs over the mountain.
Wanda made herself comfortable sitting at the top, leaving enough room for you to sit next to her as she patted the ground gesturing for you to join her, “What are we doing up here?” you asked, cautious of what she had planned for you.
“Gosh, what’s with all the questions Y/L/N? Why don’t you just go with the flow for once in your life”
“Fine.” you agreed as you took the spot next to her.
A couple of beats of silence pass as you both stare into the darkness that still covers the sky when Wanda finally turns to you, “Mornings are my favorite time to be out here.” she admitted.
“Why? It’s cold.”
Instead of immediately addressing your question, she turned back to the sky and took a deep breath. As if on queue, the sun slowly started to peek out from behind the mountain and paint the sky with warm hues like a work of art, “That’s why.”
“Wow,” you took it all in as you sat there in awe. The two of you shared a comfortable silence until the sun had completed its ascent over the mountain line.
As you struggled to harness your newfound powers, frustration simmered beneath the surface. Despite Wanda's surprisingly patient guidance, controlling the unpredictable energy coursing through your veins proved to be a daunting task.
With each failed attempt, your frustration mounted, a knot tightening in your stomach as you grappled with the overwhelming force of your abilities. But amidst the chaos, there was a flicker of something else—a thrill that coursed through your veins whenever Wanda intervened to take control.
Wanda watched you closely, her brow furrowed in concentration as she assessed the situation. She could sense your struggle when the raw power of your abilities threatened to spiral out of control. With a steady hand, Wanda reached out, her telekinetic powers weaving through the air as she penetrated your mind, guiding her movements with a gentle yet firm touch.
As Wanda assumed control, a wave of relief washed over you, a sensation that was both exhilarating and disconcerting. You surrendered to Wanda's influence, relinquishing control with a sense of surrender that both frightened and intrigued you.
But beneath the surface, there was a secret you dared not admit—a part of you relished in the feeling of giving up control, the intimacy of connection ignited a fire within you that couldn't quite be extinguished. It was a forbidden thrill, tainted by your tumultuous history and the unspoken tension that lingered between the two of you.
As the training session continued and you started to get the hang of it a bit more, there were a few times that you feigned a lack of restraint, the occasional slip-up, a deliberate ploy to elicit Wanda's intervention once more. To relish in the feeling of her control. You were ashamed of the forbidden desires that stirred deep down whenever Wanda's telekinetic touch enveloped your mind, binding the two of you together in ways you couldn't even begin to understand.
Wanda was quite literally inside of your mind, she knew what you were doing, and still, she played along. She recognized the subtle cues in your behavior. She understood the unspoken desire that lingered beneath the surface, mirrored in her own developing longing for intimacy.
Instead of reprimanding you for your deliberate slip-ups, Wanda chose to covertly lean into the unspoken tension that crackled between you. With a subtle flick of her wrist, she amplified her telekinetic influence. Your mind clouded with a thick fog, nearly impossible to see through, keeping your thoughts tame as you subconsciously followed Wanda’s lead.
Loving the feeling of having a complete hold on your mind, she reveled in not only the way that you hung on her every command, but also in the way you enjoyed it. She was going to have fun with this, give you small tastes until you’re begging for more.
Slowly, she released the hold she had taken over your mind. As the fog started the thin out, the first thing you heard was Wanda calling out your name with an artificial tinge of worry, “Y/N?” You blinked rapidly a few times before fully coming back to your senses, “are you ok?” her words were soft and endearing.
“Yea, uh,” As if the world instantly got the right prescription, everything cleared right up, “Think we can call it? I need to go lie down,” you admitted. Wanda wanted to decline your request, she was actually really enjoying herself, “Yea, of course.”
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You had been laying in your bed for 20 minutes now, unable to rest because your mind kept replaying the events of your training session with Wanda. You weren’t sure if it felt so good for her to take over your mind like that because it was something you craved or because it was her. It could’ve been both, but surely she doesn’t feel the same about you. In fact, with the way you constantly get underneath each other’s skin, surely she despised you.
It wasn’t fair to her, for once she tried being helpful and you’re practically drooling over the thought of more. You had to remove yourself from the situation before it became too much and you made a complete fool of yourself. Getting up from your bed, you decided the only thing that could get you out of your mentorship with Wanda would be found in Tony’s lab.
“Tony!” with his back to the door, you noticed the slight startle in his figure, he wasn’t expecting anyone, “How’s the device thing coming along for my powers?” you asked, taking the seat across from him.
Once you were seated across from him, he raised his gaze from the object in his hands to meet your eyes, “The inhibitor?” you nodded, “yea, that.”
“I thought Wanda was teaching you how to use your powers? I stopped working on it because I figured you didn't need it,” this was the last thing you wanted to hear, this was your way out. You needed this thing as quickly as possible.
“Oh, Wanda agreed that it would be good for me to have it. That it would actually help me to learn how to tame them.” you lied through your straight-ass teeth but Tony believed you. While someone like Natasha would’ve seen right through that charade, Tony sure as hell wasn’t an Avenger because he was a super spy, intelligence can only get you so far in the detective game.
“Ok, i’ll have it to you in the next couple of days. I’ll just need to run some tests on your blood to callibrate it correctly, can you go down to the med lab today?”
Oh here we go, you’ll either have to face your fear of medical or keep hiding your budding feelings for Wanda. Surprisingly this is exactly what it took for you to get your follow up exam and run even more tests.
Bruce was surprised to see you, and even though your attempt at convincing him you werent avoiding him fell short, he decided not to pry. He was just happy you were here now.
The follow up exam wasn’t nearly as bad as you had built it up in your head. They just asked a few questions, took some tests and sent you on your way. That’s how it always is though, and next time it’ll be the same way. You conjure these irrational thoughts and then it builds and builds.
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As Natasha returned to the compound , you could hardly contain your excitement. You missed her presence, and you were looking forwards to hearing all about her mission.
"Nat!" you exclaimed as you spotted Natasha entering the common area, a grin spreading across your face. "You're back!"
Natasha's lips curved into a warm smile as she greeted you with a hug. "Hey, Y/N. It's good to see you too," she said, returning the embrace.
The two of you settled onto the couch together, the familiar comfort of your friendship easing the tension of Natasha's recent mission. As you caught up on each other's lives, swapping stories and sharing laughs, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude that your friend was back.
"So, how was the mission?" you asked, leaning in with genuine curiosity.
Natasha's expression softened, a hint of weariness shadowing her features. "It was… intense," she admitted, her voice tinged with exhaustion. "But we got the job done."
“Intense, how?”
Natasha settled back into the couch, her gaze distant as she recounted the events of her mission. "We were sent to extract a high-value target from a hostile territory," she began, her voice tinged with a mixture of seriousness and intensity.
"It started off smoothly enough," she continued, her words measured. "But things quickly escalated. We encountered heavy resistance from enemy forces, and what was supposed to be a simple extraction turned into a full-blown firefight."
You listened intently, as your expression reflected the gravity of Natasha's words. Flashbacks of your recent mission sitting at the forefront of your mind as she recounted the events. You knew firsthand the dangers of fieldwork, but hearing Natasha's account reminded you of the risks she faced on a daily basis.
"We managed to secure the target, but not without casualties," Natasha said quietly, her gaze turning inward as she remembered the sacrifices made during the mission.
You reached out, offering Natasha a reassuring squeeze of your hand. "I'm sorry, Nat. That’s never easy," you said softly, voice filled with empathy.
She offered a grateful smile, appreciating your insight. "Yea," she admitted, her tone somber. "But we did what we had to do. That's the job."
As you sat together in the quiet of the room, the weight of Natasha's mission hung in the air. But amidst the shadows of uncertainty, there was also a glimmer of resilience, “So, what’d I miss around here?”
“Oh, nothing really,” you shrugged, “Same old things.”
“Oh yea? How’s your mentorship with Wanda going?” she pried.
Your cheeks flushed at the mention of her name, and of course the super spy sitting next to you noticed, “oh that? It’s coming to an end.” you responded vaguely.
“-an end? Why? What happened?” Natasha pushed for more information.
Avoiding eye contact, you explained, “Nothing happened. I don’t need her help anymore,”
Acting impressed, Natasha had a feeling there was more to the story, “Well, you got a handle on your powers pretty quickly then, huh?”
With a satisfied grin, acting as if you outsmarted some all knowing system, “Oh I don’t need to. Tony is fixing them.” you bragged as you removed yourself from the couch beside Nat to enter the kitchen which was still in clear view from where Natasha was seated on the couch, “you want a drink or anything? You must be exhausted.”
Nat stayed put on the couch, letting her brain catch up with what you just said, she was tired but that could wait, “Sorry, can we circle back for a sec? Tony is fixing your powers? How exactly?” she pressed, not letting you move on from the topic as she followed you off the couch and into the kitchen.
Using the refrigerator as an excuse to not meet her eyes, you pretending to weigh your options even though you knew exactly what you were after as soon as you left couch, “well, i dont know the technicalities of it, Nat, but he’s got gadgets for everything. Oh! And I had my follow-up with Bruce. He said that he’ll need to wait for the tests to come back but everything seems in order.”
Natasha hummed in response as she took a sip of the water bottle you slid over to her, “We’ll talk about this more later, movie night tonight? I’ve got to go take a shower.”
You nodded in response, “Oh, so that’s what that smell was!” you called out as she left you behind in the kitchen. She couldnt help but checkle slightly in response, “Oh shut it, Y/L/N!”
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You were looking forward to a proper movie night with Natasha, it had been too long for your liking since the two of you got to have time to yourselves and relax together like this. You even made sure to run to the store and grab lots of snacks in preparation.
You werent good at cooking by any stretch, but popcorn, you could handle. You got a bowl ready, and made sure to season it with the butter powder that Natasha loves as you put all the other junk and drinks onto a tray so you could carry it easily into the theatre room. To your surprise, Natasha wasn’t the only one there waiting for you.
“Surprise!” Nat haphazardly yelled once you noticed that Wanda was sitting beside her. Against your own will, your eyes widened as your cheeks flooded a light pink. You didnt want her here, “Why is she here?” you asked, speaking to Nat as if Wanda wasnt sitting right there to hear.
“Natasha invited me,” Wanda stepped in and explained for herself. It was difficult to hide your disgust at the situation, you were looking forward to having a cozy evening alone with Nat.
“Why?” You kept your eyes on Natasha, not paying Wanda any attention, she was intruding on your plans, and you hated the fact that you’d have to sit through an entire movie with her, an entire movie being distracted, trying to push away the thoughts that keep plaguing your mind.
Natasha knew that there was tension between you and Wanda that likely should be addressed, and who better to be a mediator than your best friend herself? After thinking over your approach to dampen your powers instead of learning to wield them properly, she believed that spending time together in a relaxed setting like a movie night could help you work through your differences and potentially mend whatever set you off from training.
Additionally, Natasha valued both you and Wanda as friends and continually tried anything to see you get along better. She hoped that by bringing you together in a more casual and friendly environment, you could find some common ground, “Oh stop complaining Y/N, come sit!” Nat patted the seat next to her. Wanda wasnt phased by your display, in fact, she somewhat expected it.
You reluctantly sat without complaining further, “What movie have you two decided on then?” you shot off, acting as if having Wanda there excluded you in some way.
Nat ignored the attitude in your tone, “We havent decided yet, I was thinking a comedy though,” she answered.
You and Wanda both decided against anything either of you chose, so eventually you landed on a movie that Nat suggested. As the movie played on the screen, you held back your laughter, a subtle attempt to maintain a sense of composure in front of Wanda. Feeling somewhat guarded in Wanda's presence, hesitant to show vulnerability or let your guard down completely.
But as the movie reached a particularly funny scene, you couldn't help but crack a smile, the laughter bubbling up from deep within. Natasha, sitting beside you, let out a hearty laugh, her amusement contagious as it spread to both you and Wanda.
Despite your initial reservations, the three of you were soon found laughing uproariously, the tension of the evening melting away in the shared joy of the moment. You felt a sense of relief wash over you, making a conscious decision to let go of your hesitations and embrace the joy of the movie. Letting your guard down, to laugh freely and openly.
Once the movie came to and end, the next suggested option was “Modern Family” and without a second thought you clicked play. Nat slowly got up from her spot in the middle of you and Wanda, claiming she was exhausted and going to head to bed. You and Wanda stayed seated as the show began to play. You’re not sure exactly when it happened but at some point, Wanda took over Nat’s seat beside you, “So, how did your follow up go with Bruce?”
You sighed, “It went well I guess, they uh- they found in my bloodwork that I have this disease called chronic fatigue syndrome, which explains why I’m always tired and stuff,” you explained.
Wanda tilted her head slightly as she took in the information, “Well, surely you already knew that from the tests SHIELD did on you to pass academy.” She questioned, thinking back to her internal reasoning as to why you knew that you’d be able to survive the chemical at the Hydra plant.
You’re not sure where her thought process was, or what made her come to that conclusion, “What? No, I never got to see the results of any of those tests, it was all confidential.” you explained, “It was just a pass or fail result at the end of the graduate year.”
As if all the walls that Wanda built between you came crashing down, realization flooded in. She had constructed this idea of you in her head, an idea that you always had some sort of ulterior motive and nothing you ever did was out of any sort of kindness or altruism, “Wait, so how did you know that you’d survive the chemical agent that we were sent to retrieve at the Hydra base?”
“I didn’t.” you stated as if it were obvious. Perhaps it was to everyone else. “Oh! Speaking of that, I have some good news!” you transitioned to the new topic, tone laced with mischief, “You won’t need to mentor me anymore,”
Wanda arched an eyebrow, her expression guarded knowing that you surely didnt have a complete grasp on your powers yet, she hummed, “Why’s that?”
You shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips, “Tony’s making me an inhibitor,” you nearly bragged, “I don’t need to bother with them now, and we can go back to hating each other, no need to keep up with this charade anymore. Just like old times.”
There was a sharpness to your words, a cutting edge that sliced through the tension. You knew that your relationship with Wanda had always been fraught with animosity, a constant battle of wills and egos.
But as you watched Wanda's reaction, a flicker of something crossed her features—was it disappointment? Relief? Sadness? You couldn't quite decipher it, but deep down, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were doing Wanda a favor by removing yourself from her life.
Wanda's response was measured, her gaze steady as she met your eyes. "Oh, this thing?” she said as she held out her hand, the inhibitor that Tony built for you appearing out of thin air, surrounded by red tendrils of magic. Your eyes widened, “I was wondering when you were going to tell me. Imagine my surprise when he told me it was my idea.” she glared, expecting an explanation.
You swallowed hard before explaining yourself, “Yea, well- I. I figured that this will make things easier for both of us. Things can go back to the way they used to be.” you stressed, avoiding eye contact with the girl beside you in favor of quite literally anything else in the room.
Your words carried a weight, so much had changed in the last month. Was anything really better off before any of this? “You want to go back to the way things used to be between us?” she clarified.
Of course you didn’t want that, but it’s what you convinced yourself that she wanted, “I- I don’t know,” you muttered as the wheels spun in your head, “No?”
Wanda couldn’t help but smile slightly at the state you were in, she found it cute. So indecisive and unsure, no trace of the snarky confidence you used to hold. Instead, you were shrunken in on yourself, merely a shell in her presence, “Then what made you lie to Tony for this?” she pushed for an explanation, as she gestured to the inhibitor she was still holding.
You were feeling overwhelmed now, not knowing the right thing to say. The last thing you wanted was Wanda upset with you. Your breathing began to pick up ever so slightly, something Wanda took notice of, “I- I’m sorry, I thought you’d like it better this way. Without me.” you admitted.
Spinning in her seat so that her entire body faced you instead of the tv, the device in Wanda’s hand vanished as she moved it to rest on your leg for comfort, “Y/N, Why would you think that?”
Your body tensed at the contact of her hand on your thigh, keeping your eyeline low like you were a child being scolded, “Well, it’s just- I feel like i’ve become this responsibility for you, and you shouldn’t have to. I know you hate me, and that’s ok. I deserve it, but it’s not fair for you.” you tried to find the right words to explain your thought process, you werent even sure if it made sense at this point.
Suddenly you felt Wanda’s fingers pulling your chin to force you to meet her gaze, “Hey. I don’t hate you.” she clarified, “Sure we bicker, and get under each other’s skin, but I thought things were getting better.” she affirmed, and you nodded gently in response, “Good girl,” she whispered almost inaudibly, sending a shiver down your spine noticing the hold she had on you without even using her magic, “Regardless, it’s the least I could do, the only reason you even have these powers in the first place is because you saved me.” she admitted.
You didn’t have a response, staring back at her with doe wide eyes waiting for her to make the next move. She removed her grip from your chin and lifted the barrier from between your seats, “Come here,” she patted as she lifted her arm for you to scootch closer. You did as she said, nuzzling into the space she provided. Your shared focus shifted back to the sitcom on the tv as you relaxed into her embrace, “Wanda.” you muttered softly as exhaustion began weighing heavily on your features, and she hummed in response, “I never hated you either.” you admitted.
“I know.”
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ddarker-dreams · 1 year
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Smoking Gun.
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Yan Johan x Reader.
Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, Johan being just unpleasant to be around as always. Word count: 2.1k.
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When you walk into your apartment, a premonition hangs over your head like a low storm cloud.
Nothing is amiss at first glance. Every detail is just how you left it, from the pans you used to make this morning’s breakfast soaking in the sink to the blanket you forgot to fold strewn over the couch. There are no flickering lights or low groans of a floorboard in another room meant to warn you of impending danger. You only have your raw, human instincts — unrefined as they may be — to work with. You close the door noiselessly behind you, leaving it open just a sliver in case you need to bolt.
Water droplets drip down from your closed umbrella and onto the wooden floor. For once, you’re uncaring of the mess that and the mud on your boots are undoubtedly leaving behind, your focus honing in elsewhere. You take slow, cautious steps into your living space, eyes crawling over every visible inch for signs of disruption. Finding nothing, you inspect the bathroom next. It’s in a similarly insignificant state.
That leaves your bedroom down the hall.
Your breathing is growing more labored with each bit of the gap you close between you and your final destination. Light from the setting sun streams in from the eerily silent room, causing you to wrack your brain over if you did or didn’t close the blinds this morning. You can’t remember for the life of you. One second you think you may have, the next, you’re convinced the opposite is true.
You wince when the floor creaks beneath your feet, right before the bedroom’s door frame. This panel’s belligerence had slipped your mind. Had there been anyone there, especially the person you think might be present, they would’ve heard that. Adrenaline courses through you when you decide to rush in, your makeshift weapon at the ready.
“Welcome back.”
That voice — whoever would’ve thought the devil spoke without malice?
Johan’s face is kind, his smile kinder, so soft that you have to squint to make out the upturn of his lips. You maintain the rigid position of your umbrella, uncertain if it’s meant to be a sword or a shield. The cracked door you left for a swift escape resurfaces in your mind. You could make it — should make it — but you don’t even lift your feet from the ground. How can you, when you catch what he’s holding in his hands, the revelation filling you with red-hot rage.
There are a million things you could ask him, or shout at him, but you eventually settle on:
“What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you,” he responds, deceit nonexistent, for he knows there’s nothing worse than the truth. “You’re home late today.”
You part your lips, only to close them, aghast by how your instinct was to explain yourself to him. Tell him that you got carried away watching a street performance and missed your regular bus. He carries himself in such a normal, organic fashion, that you can’t help but settle into any rhythm he establishes. You shake your head, hoping the action is the key to breaking whatever spell he has over you by simply existing in the same room.
Without trying to conceal it, you size him up. You note the lack of mud on the floor, despite the fact he’s still wearing his shoes, and deduce he really has been waiting here for hours. It started pouring around your lunch break and only let up recently. The knowledge he’s been here, invading your personal space while you were none the wiser, fills you with dread.
“... I’m really not in the mood to deal with this,” you lower your umbrella. You get the feeling he isn’t intimidated by it and cast it aside. Exhaustion weighs over you like an anchor pressed to your chest. The burning fury from before is more of a flickering ember, hot to the touch yet nowhere near as all-consuming.
“I remember you felt different when we last spoke.”
He’s still holding it. Your hands ball up into fists by your side. “Is that what this is about? You’re here to rub what I’ve said before in my face?”
“No. You don’t need me to bring up your words to be bothered by them,” Johan finally puts the item down, back onto your nightstand, where it once belonged. These days, you’re not so certain. He fixes it into place so that if you hadn’t found him, you never would’ve realized it was tampered with.
This rendition of the photograph is in color, as opposed to the black and white shown on the front pages of newspapers for months. You have seen this photo outside the confines of your apartment many times. Too often, perhaps. It haunted you more dutifully than any specter. When walking by vendors on the streets, or sitting across from a businessman on the bus reading his morning paper with a cup of coffee. Your waking nightmare had become just another thing for the general populace to consume alongside the daily crossword puzzles and advice columns.
The headlines flicker through your mind like reels of film.
College Student Missing from Munich. Search for Missing College Student Entering Second Month. Then finally, Elias Friedrich Found Dead at 23.
The mirth in Elias’ eyes when that photo was taken taunts you, wriggling beneath your skin like the maggots they found on his body. You had been happy then yourself, an emotion long forgotten. Suddenly, you wish Johan had turned it to face the wall, so you wouldn’t have to see what will never be again.
“You’ve been applying for visas in other countries,” he points out. You frown — you had been so careful — but you guess that doesn’t matter when Johan is involved. “You must intend to leave the promise you made to me unfulfilled.”
What he speaks of wasn’t so much a promise as it was a curse. Whether it be a curse on you, or him, you couldn’t say for certain.
“I’m assuming that since you know about the visas, I shouldn’t be expecting an acceptance letter anytime soon? You’ve got people at the embassy under your thrall too?”
The enigmatic smile he gives churns your stomach. He must assume there’s no point in telling you what you already know. Loathe as you are to admit it, you understand why, and that knowledge chills you to the bone. Johan is no longer a complete mystery to you. It was simpler when he was; you could paint him as this unpredictable bogeyman in your mind. You don’t want to be familiar with him, a realization that would’ve done you better earlier. By the time you learn how deep the water is by diving in, it’s too late to resurface without drowning.
You know why he’s here. It isn’t to kill or even threaten you — it’s to remind you. That you don’t get to go anywhere simply because he sees value in having you around. This seemingly minute fact is enough to thrust your life in permanent limbo.
“Whatever, I get it,” you mumble, walking over to your bed and sitting on the edge of it. “You made your point. I don’t even know why I bothered trying.”
It was nice, having those few weeks where you successfully deluded yourself. That’s all it ever was, a fleeting delusion, as tangible as a mirage in the desert. It’d been so long since you saw him last. You figured he had to have bigger ambitions that would push you from the forefront of his mind. Clinging to this notion was what kept you sane. Without it, you don’t know what you are.
Johan considers you for a long moment. “Would you like to know why I didn’t kill you that night?”
All it takes is the smooth utterance of that night for your senses to be transported back in a whirlwind. The cool, winter air biting your cheeks, the musky scent left behind by rain, the screams for help that roped you into a world you could never leave. Your body goes stiff as a corpse when he sits beside you on the bed you used to share with another. The very person Johan took from you, what marked the beginning of the end.
“I wanted you to see the same darkness I’ve been familiar with,” there’s something different about his tone, though you can’t put your finger on it. Honesty? Vulnerability? Is he even capable of either? “I always intended on it. Your being there wasn’t mere happenstance. It was deliberate.”
You can’t begin to imagine the expression etched onto your countenance.
“I told you that ultimately, whether you chose to do anything about Elias’ death or not, it wouldn’t matter. You promised to prove me wrong. I never said I’d mind if you did.”
There are inches between you and him, but it isn’t enough. It wouldn’t matter if he was halfway across the continent or the world itself — it still wouldn’t be enough space. He’d never fail to find a way to suffocate you in the way only he can.
“Do you…” you swallow thickly, finding your mouth terribly dry, “Do you want to be proven wrong?”
For the first time you can recall, it’s Johan who breaks eye contact instead of you. He leans back on his palms, his attention drifting to the ceiling before his blonde eyelashes flutter shut. The time that passes can’t be significant, no more than a few seconds, you wager; but it stretches on further than the horizon. You don’t breathe, don’t blink, don’t think. You just stare. Wholly absorbed, wholly fascinated.
“What do you think?”
You respond faster than thoughts can form in your head. “You don’t know.”
Blue eyes regard you with muted curiosity.
“That’s right. You don’t know what you want, or you would’ve gotten it by now,” you reaffirm. You’re seeing him as much as he’s always seen you. “You said you want to be the last one standing in the world, but a day will come when you’ll even lose interest in that. Then you’ll move onto the next thing… and then the next… wading endlessly in a search for something you’ll never find.”
If you had been debilitated by a fraction of the darkness he was familiar with in its entirety, then you get it.
Knowing what to do with yourself, how to begin rebuilding, whether or not it’s even worth the effort of trying; these sentiments are your acquaintances and his lifelong friends.
You didn’t realize you were smiling until you go to speak again. “I guess it doesn’t matter if the embassy never issues me a visa, if I can connect you to Elias’ death, or prove you wrong.”
“And why’s that?”
“I might never find closure, but neither will you.”
The sky weeps. Distant pitter-patters hit like drums against a storm pipe, outdone only by the cacophony of raindrops striking your window. The sun has hidden itself behind a layer of clouds. You’re staring at one another, breathing in each other’s air. You don’t know what’s going on in his mind, and for once, your intuition whispers he doesn’t know what’s happening in yours.
He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, handling you delicately, like you’re a flower. His touch lingers long enough that you don’t think you could forget it if you tried. The emotions dancing in his eyes are indecipherable. When he retracts his hand, his fingers brush against your jawline, leaving goosebumps in his wake. You know you should recoil from the unwanted touch, yet you’re hypnotized into staying still.
When Johan blinks, the unknown glaze over his eyes is gone.
Then he’s standing, turning his back to you, and walking toward the doorway you brazenly ran through what feels like ages ago.
“I’m glad I came to visit,” he looks at you from over his shoulder. “You always make it worth my time.”
You hug your legs to your chest. “Can’t say the feeling’s mutual.”
The insult is like water off a duck’s back, he doesn’t bother acknowledging it.
“The next time I visit, I won’t be leaving without you.”
You wish you could say you were surprised, but you felt this revelation breathing down your neck. He was your personal harbinger of misfortune. You weren’t foolish enough to think he was done with you, not after falling for that temptation once. Whatever comes next will be a secret you won’t be able to pry from his lips. It could be in an hour, perhaps tomorrow, or months down the line; you won’t know until he wants you to.
Something tells you the darkness he showed you that night will pale in comparison to what lies ahead.
“And if I don’t want to go?”
Johan stops, his shoulders shaking in what you assume to be a quiet chuckle.
“I’ll stop at nothing to encourage you, in any way I can.”
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chvnnie · 3 months
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a/n: no smut! just some angst w a somewhat happy ending! idk it just came to me! bye!
The water droplets that cling to your back stick you to the bathroom door. Hair too damp, the water spilling down your nude body and dripping to the floor. Plop, plop, plop as if the liquid has a heartbeat of its own. Eyes shut, you focus on the soft sound to slow your breathing. Maybe, just maybe, if you try hard enough, you can evaporate with the water.
Anything would be better than this.
There’s a dull knock on the other side of the door. His head lulling back against the wood, level with yours. The sound of his breathing is too loud, drowning out your treasured drops of water.
“Are you ready to talk to me?”
Your eyes open, red and stinging from the shampoo you lathered in just moments ago. Purposely not rinsing properly, you let it roll down your face. Seep into your eyes. It was nice, a distraction from the feeling of your heart being ripped from your rib cage.
It beats on the other side of the door.
He sighs, and there’s another thud. As if he’s turned, forehead now pressed against the wood. “Baby, just say something.”
The taste on your tongue. Mouthwash burns it, yet that name overpowers its strength. Baby. It makes your stomach churn. Your lip trembles, nose wobbling along with it. If tears fall, it’s the shampoo.
It’s been days since you haven’t fought. Everything. Everything requires a war, the fight not stopping until you’re both broken and bloodied. Voices raw, achy. Heads throbbing. There’s been little reprieve.
Tonight was the night your white flag was raised. When he came home late, tie loosened and curls threaded as if fingers danced through them. He greeted you with a kiss to your cheek before dropping his stuff on the unused kitchen table. It took you a moment, too consumed in washing the dishes, for you to notice.
“It’s after eight.” You say, turning off the water.
“Yeah. Yeah, I got caught up in something.”
“For like, three and a half hours?” It’s impossible to stop the chuckle of disbelief. “It isn’t even your busy season.”
You know him better than yourself. Like the back of your hand, everything about him etched into your brain. Your entire soul, flesh, blood. Without even looking, you know he’s chewing his cheek, unfastening his cuff links. “Can we not do this tonight, please?”
“Not a text, not a call—“
“I’m so tired.”
“So am I.” Your words catch in your throat, sobs on the precipice. The last bit of energy you have is used to stomp them down. “You could have at least told me—“
“What do you think I was doing?” What is heavier in his tone — the pain or the frustration? “Do you think I was cheating? Off fucking someone else?”
It almost shames you, the fact that it did cross your mind. There are no other signs that point to that, nothing to really give you reason to think that. It’s the build up — the weeks of back and forth, never finding a middle ground unless he’s buried inside you. You’re so fucking exhausted. It would almost be easier to think there was another woman than to admit what it actually is.
Even thinking it feels like swallowing glass.
“You do.” He scoffs, throwing his tie on the table. “You really do.”
“Chan—“
“I fucking love you.” His voice is strained, tears like a waterfall. “Don’t you get that?”
“I don’t!” You snap back, forcefully removing the rubber cleaning gloves. The fall in the sink with a splash. “Do you really think fighting every night is love? This push and this pull, I’m so fucking sick of it.” You turn to the staircase, anxiety building in your chest so quickly. You need to get out of here, to get away from all of this.
As your foot hits the first step, the glass shatters. Your ribs cracked open, raw and exposed.
“I want a divorce.”
How can he expect you to talk to him after he says something like that? You replay the moment in your mind over and over again, the words louder each goddamned time. With a shaky breath, your hands cover your face. Nails in your scalp. Numb.
Chan is sniffling. What you don’t see on the other side of the door is the waves of regret. Salty and bitter, twisting around his ankles to pull him deep. Those four fucking words. They made you still, body immediately tense. The mere seconds you stood there felt like eons. Right when his hand reached out, ready to take it all back, you climb up. All too quick.
Why did he say something he didn’t really mean? For you, he would bring the moon to earth. Hang the stars above your bed. Crawl into the depths of the earth and break it down from the inside, watching it collapse with you. He’s tried, many times, to describe his love for you and nothing can come close. It’s bigger than him.
Bigger than this.
“I’m sorry.” He whispers, choking softly on his tears. “I don’t know why I said it. I just—“ his inhale is shaky, like he’s unable to fully catch his breath. “—I don’t even know. Baby, please, please come out.”
Your entire soul. The start of time and the end of it. Every planet that ever was, that ever will be. No matter how hard you push, how badly you want to step away.
When the handle turns, he falls to his knees.
Shards of glass pierce your skin from head to toe, digging deeper when the agony he’s feeling hits you. It’s written across his face, etched into his gaze. Sorry. Sorry isn’t close to enough.
You tilt your head down, looking at your husband for the first time in hours. This isn’t the same man that left your house this morning; jaded, empty. This is the man you fell in love with.
“I’m sorry.” He cries, bowing down until his red cheek is flush against your foot. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—“
Despite the words that have seeped into the walls around you, the foundation of your home all but quaking from the hate and anger that it’s been pelted with. Despite the fact that your heart lay, covered in glass and bled out on the floor next to him. You believe him.
If he really meant it, he would have taken his ring off. 
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hunnidmilly · 1 year
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dnd. |r.r|
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dnd is a thing yk…but what’s the fun in that?
warnings: public sex? (not really), overstimulation, poor use of present and past tense (some journalism major i am)
parings: dom!roman x black!reader
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“Ah!” You let out a screech as Roman leaned forward bracing himself on the back of your thighs; your knees pushed up to your chest, his rough hands gripping your calves.
“There you are baby. Give me another one, shit!“
You slid your freshly babydoll pink nails down his back sharply, creating scratches—you knew he’d kill you for that.
You clenched around his cock, feeling the intensity of the vein thumping against your spot as he pushed in and out of you. You were ready to coat his cock in another sheer layer of cum for the 3rd time tonight. Wet sounds bouncing off the walls as he pummeled in your soaked pussy. You became overheated at the sensations quickly rushing over your body. Roman paused his pounding and swiveled his hips in circles, letting you feel all of him.
“Fuck, baby…” You softly whimpered at the motion
“You ready to cum all over me? Hm, baby? You’re gonna f—“
Roman’s voice was stopped by the sound of your phone ringing. He let out a grunt of annoyance into your ear as he halted his movements. “Who the fuck is calling you right now?”
You barely heard him as your chest rose and fell quickly. After a moment you blinked and realized your phone was ringing on the charger.
“Who cares? It’ll stop. C’mere.” You softly giggled, reaching up, smashing your lips to his
Roman waited a small second before starting his rapid thrust up again. He pounded into your tight pussy making you submit to him all over again. Each time he pulled out, your walls welcomed him back, clenching around him.
“Yesss!” You cried out “You feel so good! Don’t stop! Oh my god!”
“I gotchu, baby girl. You feel so fuckin’ good. Look at that sweet pussy milking me. She knows exactly who she belongs to.” He growled into your ear pushing her knees near her head.
You let out a mewl feeling his girth stretch out your pussy, working overtime to drag out another creamy gush of your wetness all over his cock, “Ah! I’m cu—“
Roman’s movements falter at the sound of your phone ringing once again. “What the fuck?” He panted feeding you soft thrust, the tightness in your belly slowly unfolding
You reached over and picked up your phone to see your bestfriend, Chantel, calling you. Your thumb hovered over the end call button, prepared to get back to your man.
“Answer it.” His voice deepens from his chest, you look up at him with a dazed expression. His face held a smirk and mischievous expression. Ready to deny him he presses the green circular button for you
He hooks his muscled arms under your legs, yanking you towards him, making you fall back to the pillow. His eyes darted toward the phone urging you to speak.
“H-Hello?” You breathlessly respond as Roman slid back in, the wetness from your cunt making it inviting.
Roman starts out with a slow thrust into your pussy before throwing your right leg over his shoulder and spreading eagle your other one.
“Bitch! You’ll never believe what I just found out—“
Chantel begins to ramble about the latest gossip about someone at work, as you use your free hand to cover your mouth. You felt screams arise from your throat, and you struggled to be quiet. Roman’s deep stare burning into your soul as he continued to plummet into your dripping, over-stimulated, pussy. Never afraid to take all of him, your eyes roll into the back of your head.
“Look at how much of a slut you are for my fuckin’ cock. All that fucking cream dripping onto me. Even while you’re on the phone, baby. Tell your friend about how good i’m fucking you. How good you lay back and take my cock in those guts.” He praises lowly
“And I proceeded to tell the bitch, mind her own business. The fuck I want with her man? Like he isn’t our boss or some shit.” Chantel raves, reminding you she’s still in ear shot.
And also about to absentmindedly witness you have the orgasm of your life.
“Anyways, why didn’t you answer the phone? Where’s your mannnnnn?” Chantel dragged out.
While Chantel adored Roman. how could she not? He did everything for you. He loved her bestfriend more than his next breath. He spoiled you to the coil, treated you like his queen, but currently she was being a pain in your ass. and so was the man currently thrusting in and out your soaking cunt, rubbing your clit with his thumb. Clearly, your man has no chill to be fucking you while you were on the phone.
Your mouth opened on a silent gasp as your back arched off the bed, a warm wetness squirting out your cunt, coating Roman’s cock in another sheer layer. You gripped your phone, surely enough you thought you’d break it.
“Ah! I’m cumming, Roman! Oh my god baby! Yes!” You squealed as Roman fucked you through your orgasm, still pumping you soft thrust, your leg shaking over his shoulder.
You briefly saw Roman’s face before dawning out into your euphoric bliss. A look of pure accomplishment.
arrogant bastard.
“You two are fuckin? Seriously? Put your phone on DND next time. Ugh!”
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