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tteokdoroki · 3 years

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countdown | k.bakugou + e.kirishima.

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou, eijirou kirishima x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 6.1K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: college!au, fluff + smut.

♡ summary: with the new year finally approching, your boyfriends figure out the perfect way to start the countdown.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, pwp ( characters aged up to twenties ), drinking, mentions of alcohol, poly!kiribaku, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it y’all ), oral sex ( female recieving ), fingering, choking, dumbification, degredation, double penetration, daddy!kink, master!kink, creampie, cumplay. guys it’s a lot idk what to tell you brrrrr.

♡ author’s note(s): um this is like 8 days late but happy new years y’all, first fic of 2021 and it is a Wild one !! this kinda goes with along with my christmas deku fic, you don’t have to read it but it gives some context!! thank for all your love and support, stay safe babies <33

♡ masterlist | requests

“don’t look so nervous, shitty girl.”

your gaze flicks up and to the left of the rim of your tainted red solo cup, a pretty mauve stain coating the outer edge. you can see bakugou moving in your peripheral vision, slender body resting against the counter in the kitchen you’ve hidden yourself away in— outside a new years party bustles away, so full of life that you’ve struggled to become a part of. it was supposed to be a small gathering, a few of your boyfriends’ mates were getting together to see off the awful year after finals and tears and mishaps.

you were excited, you’d spent some time with the group before and were stoked to get to know them a bit better— but the idea had quickly been scrapped when kirishima’s roommate turned the tiny event into a full blown goodbye bash. so now your social anxiety was through the roof and you could hardly think about enjoying yourself.

downing the rest of your... well whatever the hell it is...you shift to face the blonde with a slight scowl. “i’m not nervous, katsuki.” you half growl in an attempt to keep the explosive blonde away, but crimson eyes with mischievously sparkling irises only roll once, your lover can read you like an open book— and for that you hate him... but only just.

“yeah?” katsuki hums, turning to corner you against the worktop. forgoing your empty cup, your free hands instantly settle themselves on your boyfriend’s hips— the material of his black skinny jeans rough against your palms, sneakily to thread fingers through his belt loops to tug him closer and barely feel flustered by the half lidded gaze bakugou gives you. “if you’re not s’nervous, then why the fuck are you hidden away in here?”

it’s your turn to send your eyes rolling, to which katsuki catches and gives you a gentle nip to the cheek. “i’m not hiding either, i came in here to get a drink for kiri— hey! don’t look at me like that.” the rest of your words fall flat in a whine you don’t mean to set free, bakugou grinning like a maniac above you. his eyes sparkle at the hint of your lie as if he can see right through you, which again... you hate. out of the two of your boyfriends; the blonde was able to pick up on your behaviours slightly faster than kirishima— you put it down the quick reflexes and his complex for wanting to be first at everything but that didn’t make him any less annoying.

in response, bakugou bites down a little harder on your fleshy cheek, pulling you closer by the waist so that your legs wrap around him from over the counter. “a drink that kiri already has, baby? stop lyin’, you loser,” he mumbles into your skin, making you huff. “talk to me.”

“fuck you, but fine...” whining again and with a slight buzz of alcohol to your veins you tilt your head before bakugou can affectionately chomp onto your cheek again and attempt to steal a small peck from him. your love only denies you of this pleasure, at least until you tell him the truth. “okay, okay. i’m in here hiding ‘cause there’s too many people and i’m afraid i’ll be too nervous to talk to your friends.”

“‘m feeling burnt out katsu, there’s so many more people here than i expected and i’m worried that your friends might not like me s’much anymore...”

bakugou smirks, running his tongue over the top row of his pearly whites and you cross your arms in defeat. “you’re so fuckin’ stupid, yn.”

“fuck you! right up your stupid little ass—“

your blonde boyfriend raises a brow which silences you quickly and makes you wriggle in annoyance. “you’re stupid ‘cause our friends aren’t gonna stop liking you for gettin’ shy— there’s a lotta people out there that aren’t exactly kiri or i.” you perk up at the mention of your latter partner which makes katsuki smile and release you. “just relax. they love you, we love you...let’s just say goodbye to this fuckin’ shitty year, okay?”

you nod and watch as the male moves away from you to fix you both another set of drinks while you adjust yourself to go back into the outside world. the kitchen stays quiet compared to the bass blasted music that echoes throughout the dorm halls, giving you time to grasp at feelings of anxiety and attempt to soothe them— you promise yourself to leave all of the negative feelings behind and focus on making happy memories with your friends. bakugou breaks you from your thoughts and hands you another cup filled with a drink you recognise to be your favourite, he doesn’t speak however and leans back against the worktop to drink his own beverage.

you’ve always liked that he gives you room to think and make a note to show your appreciation later on. your boy’s love language was always through actions and hardly ever words.

but your bubble of sweet silence is soon burst when one of your partner’s friends darts into the kitchen, a look of excitement dancing brightly across pink lined features. her amber eyes land on you first and swiftly find bakugou after causing a smile to break out against her features. “ohmygod finally, i was wondering where you guys got to! come on, the countdown’s about to start!” you quickly place her name to be mina, remembering her voice from the last time you’d met and offer her a sweet smile in return as her hand reaches out for yours. you take it.

bakugou tsks; clearly irritated but pushes himself off of the counter and follows behind you motherless, mina dragging you in the direction of the living room. somehow she effortlessly weaves you through sweaty bodies of students from the floors below and practically tosses you to the sharks that can be named as your boyfriends’ pals. luckily, your katsuki is right behind you to steady your hips while mina flops onto a couch with the others.

“there they are! two thirds of our favourite lovebirds...” someone to the right of you speaks up; you recognise her to be the roommate you’d walked in on when visiting bakugou’s place before christmas and relax a little. the girl was nice, affectionate and ever so sweet with you the first time you’d met. she curls up in the lap of another guy with green chair, who you presume is the ‘shitku’ or ‘deku’ your lovers had told you about, respectively.

speaking of, katsuki makes himself comfortable next to kirishima on his old loveseat from your hometown— you’d played rock paper scissors with him to keep it, but lost. you couldn’t complain though, the red heard rewarding you with a flurry of kisses in place of the old battered chair.

but with no room and the gang already taking up most of the couch, eijirou pulls you to sit on his thighs and wraps his arms around your middle before pressing a kiss atop your head. “missed you, where’d you go?” he pouts into your neck and fiddles with the frayed ends of your skirt, his free hand grasping at the drink he had.

“i was—“

“she was hidin’ in the kitchen; pretending to fix somethin’.” katsuki cuts you off, earning himself a glare from you and amused chuckles from others ( having pulled their attention away from the countdown on the television ). he attempts to snuggle closer to you both afterwards, making your red headed boy kiss his cheek. you could tell that your explosive boyfriend was feeling a little left out, he’d always doubted himself in the relationship the three of you had ever since he’d found out kirishima had you; his lover back in his hometown, before college. but you’d loved kiri and couldn’t make him choose between the two people he needed most in his life, so despite the tears and drama...you’d learned to love bakugou as well.

you reach over to squeeze his hand but don’t miss the twitch of his lips into a smile while he watches the live countdown on tv.

kaminari; the blonde who sits at your feet pipes up next— cheeks red from the alcohol he nurses. “why were you hiding, doll?” he hiccups, earning himself a kick to he back from both bakugou and kirishima. “ouchies...”

“she probably wanted to get away from your annoying ass...” sero quips from across the group, where mina lazily toys with his jet black hair; causing bakugou’s roommate to snort and spew her drink in izuku’s face. as far as you were aware, the pair were living together in their apartment off campus and weren’t dating, but might as well have been. katsuki had told you sero was a coward but seeing them now made you think it was cute.

“fuck you, that’s mean!”

“ah, but kaminari my dear friend, it is true...”

a boy with dual eyes chuckles, himself and another figure join the latter male on the ground, hair ruffled and clothes clearly out of place. the girl blinks up at you with a sweet grin before turning to chat with the other girls while eiji fist bumps the male. you remember them as momo and todoroki respectively. bakugou’s roommate checks her watch quickly, a faux frown playing at her lips. “and you guys are done with fourty minutes to spare before new years , a new record...quite frankly, i’m impressed!”

it’s your turn to frown as the newbies blush and attempt to hide their faces. the rest of the group seem amused, sero and denki smirking between themselves, your boyfriends and izuku hiding embarrassed faces while the girls giggle and tease. you can’t help the next words.

“what were they doing?” you whisper innocently and mostly to yourself, unable to focus on the feeling of katsuki pressing kisses to your linked hands to avoid adding to the conversation. however; all eyes teeter over to you, making you freeze up and shuffle nervously in kirishima’s lap.

“fucking in the closet by the front door, they do it every year.” mina teases, causing your face to heat up while momo swats at the pink girl. “nasty right, yn?”

“quit it mina, you’re making her shy!”

you swallow hard and nod shakily, and swear you can almost feel the quiet groan that erupts from katsuki’s chest. “right...”

the group is clearly a little tipsy and you’re not quite drunk enough to feel eat ease with the antics of your lovers’ friends; but one thing lead to another and the topic of conversation lands on you. “maybe yn will get a little new years treat too—“ midoriya slurs somewhere off, by now he and his girlfriend alone have downed a bottle of vodka and cutely make out from time to time. and yet, your boyfriends both have different ideas, the hot headed blonde preparing to launch himself at izuku while the manly red head blushes a shade so deep it could rival his dyed hair.

“what’d you say, shitty nerd?”

it all happens way too fast and you can barely register bakugou’s sudden movement before it’s too late— his elbow jolts as he attempts to kill his best friend’s lover, resulting in eijirou’s drink being knocked clean out of his hand and all over your cute little shirt. you squeal and shudder as the cold liquid seeps right through the thin material, exposing your chest to partygoers and friends alike who cheer as the countdown locks onto thirty minutes until the new year.

kirishima jumps up right after you, shielding your exposed chest from his friends ( mostly denki ) who refuse to look away and leads you up to his room to change while bakugou barks out expletives at deku.

after all it was his fault that your cute tits were out on new years eve.

“what if she’s mad at us kiri? she was already feeling anxious about being here tonight and now—“

“she won’t bakubabe, she loves us and she’ll know it was just an accident, you were defending her honour after all...”

you choose this moment to push open the bathroom door of kirishima’s en-suite, having wiped away most of the beverage that had made your tummy sticky. luckily your skirt had survived his awful choice of rum and cola but at least you smelled nice. two sets of red eyes cast their gaze upon your form, naked apart from the cute pink bra that cups your breasts and tiny skater skirt that sits above your plush thighs.

the boys can already feel their mouths drying at the sight of you have exposed under the yellowing light of kirishima’s dorm room. your skin still shines with the reminders of alcohol as you make your way over to them on the bed, sitting between them with the aforementioned red head’s shirt in your hands.

instantly they shift closer towards you, absorbing your warmth as their fingertips graze your skin. “i told you guys i was fine, i know it was an accident.” you murmur softly, taking both of their hands into yours. “besides, i needed to get out of there for a bit, your friends are—“

“loud?” kirishima offers, kissing your knuckles.

“annoying?” this time it’s bakugou who speaks, shoving his face into your neck to hide from you, still apologetic. his soft blonde hair tickles your neck and you can’t help but giggle gently into the air. “you liked that.”

shaking your head, you pinch at his side and tug eijirou close enough for him to lean his head atop yours. “—they’re a lot, a lot to handle... i just need a little time to calm down before we head back out there.” briefly letting go of your boyfriends’ hands, you reach for the red band t-shirt sitting in your lap in order to shrug it on, but your red headed lover quickly stops you.

“i could think of a few ways to calm you down angel,” he mumbles lowly, so much so that you feel the sound ripple in kirishima’s chest but you’re too distracted by the sudden feeling of katsuki sucking gentle marks into the column of your throat. “we still have a bit of time before we hit midnight on the countdown, right bakugou?”

the hot headed boy only looks up briefly from your bruised and bitten skin, a devilish smirk crossing his lips while the boys work together to push you back onto the sheets. “damn right ei, say we got about twenty minutes to take her mind off things,” your body tingles at the way the talk about you as if you’re not even there, heat beginning to brew in the pits of your tummy. “so, keep the shirt off, won’t you baby?”

you release the offending material as if it’s burnt your palms, thighs spreading instinctively as kirishima’s hand wanders between them to smooth your soft flesh. “yes..., yes katsuki...”

“that’s not what we say, is it babe?” kiri scolds, slapping your inner thigh while bakugou leaves a trail of sloppy kisses that stop just atop your breasts.

“...i mean...yes, sir.”

“atta fuckin’ girl.”

your breath hitches at the feeling of katsuki’s finger tips wrapping around the base of your throat, his touch is delicate and compares starkly with the roughness of his skin— calloused from hard work and use of his quirk. eyes roll to the back of your head at that very thought, the idea that your lover could hurt you in the most delicious of ways using his explosive nature but you have little time to dwell on the fantasy as your other boyfriend moved to hover above your face, ruby red hair tickling at your forehead while he slots his lips against your parted ones.

kirishima’s lips are soft and bitter with the taste of rum clinging to every ridge and imperfection in the skin there so you reach up and weave your fingers through dyed locks in order to bring him closer. meanwhile, bakugou makes quick work of your laced bra— tearing it down to expose your nipples to the cool air they harden under. his hot mouth encapsulates the bud, rolling it between rows of sharp edged teeth in away that has your back arching for more. the blonde ravishes your chest teeth and tongue, while his freehand works on groping your other breast— both of the fleshy mounds being shown equal amounts of attention in different ways, making you whimper wetly against kiri’s mouth.

saliva pools on your tongue, collecting between you and your lover while his own explores the cavern of your hot mouth. the pair of you watch one another with hooded eyes as kirishima pulls away, nothing but a string on your drool connecting you. you swear that every nerve in your body lights up at once just at the sight. “katsuki, you should see yn’s little face right now,” he breathes weightily against your raw lips, hand coming up the squish your cheeks together almost painfully. “we’ve barley even touched her and she’s already looking so fucking fucked out.”

“eiji...sir, please...” you gargle at the mocking lilt to kirishima’s voice and let your hand slip from his hair to cup his wrist as he pinches at your cheeks once more.

but this time, katsuki is the one who speaks to you— vermillion eyes clouded with dark lust when he looks up at you. he’d long moved past his brutal assault on your chest, already leaving a mass of sloppy kisses and bite marks down your abdomen until now, where his head was buried right underneath your little skirt. “the fuck you begging for, slut?” the blonde sneers at you so harshly that pathetic tears begin to pool in your eyes. eijirou is quick to wipe them away before they can hit your heated cheeks but you can tell from the look on his face he’s even more turned on by the sight. “well? i asked you a question.”

“she’s crying, katsuki.”

“don’t give a fuck if she cries or not, i’ll give her a real reason to in a minute.” and katsuki bakugou always lives up to his threats, shuffling back under your skirt to press his tongue flat against your soaked panties. he groans into the material, sending vibrations straight up to your clit before he pulls the sticky material away from your heat. “god...kiri, she’s s’fuckin’ wet. here.” you writhe against the sheets, jolting as bakugou guides your partner’s free hand to your gummy cunt.

his thick digits press into your sensitive nub and gather your slick between their fingertips, both boys watch in awe and hunger as more of the viscous nectar seeps out of you at their actions. “you’re right, she’s soaked, aren’t you baby?”

you can only nod weakly before the boys pounce, kirishima sucking his fingers clean before they go right back to drawing shapes on your puffy clit. bakugou wastes no time either, pinning you down to the bed with on arm as he slides his pink tongue up you the length of your glistening slit. the two of your lovers work together to make a mess of you, between the blonde slurping at your lower lips likes it his last mean and the red head circling your pleasure button over and over— you have no room to breathe.

all you can do is take what you’re given, throwing your head back as your high pitched moans mingle with the steady beat of the music out in the hall. your pushy gushes around katsuki’s tongue as he forces it deeper into your tightness, committing each ridge to memory and dirtying his face with more of your juices. eijirou alternates the pressure of his fingers from time to time, grinning brightly every time your face twitches with need or with pleasure. your boys are so good to you, even when they’re in control of your body they always make sure you’re feeling good. getting you off, gets them off.

the waves of ecstasy are rolling off your sweat licked skin, the heat of two bodies pressed against you sending the temperature of your own off of the charts, arching perfectly every time katsuki nips at your pulsing pussy just right or eijirou pinches your clit between finger and thumb. you can’t help but leak all over the place, sure that there’s a dark patch on your innocent little skirt, but it’s worth it for the way your boys make you feel, for they tongue laps over your hard pleasure button even with fingers drawing every shape under the sun on it.

you gasp for air as the knot in your stomach twists and the fire of passion burns a brighter shade in your lower tummy, you sit right on the fence of earth shattering pleasure when both boys rip themselves away from you. “w-why’d...why’d you stop?” you wail, tears threatening to spill once more as your high slips away from your grasp.

you make an attempt to rut your hips into bakugou’s face that sits merely inches away from your sopping cunt, but he only smacks your thigh and cuts his eyes. “we’re checking the time, seeing how long we have left to make you feel good, so quit your fuckin’ cryin, okay?”

sniffling and bucking your hips into the air, you agree silently— only comforted by kirishima when he returns from his phone to cup your cheeks again, pressing kisses to your heated face. he slides his fingers that had been dirtied past your lips in a silent command to suck them clean too. “only twelve minutes left until the new year baby, can you cum, before then?” the red head coos you softly, but you don’t have the chance to respond, for bakugou latches right onto your pussy again, tongue thrusting in and out of your fluttering hole and sliding over your puffy clit.

kirishima hums against your neck while you choke and heave, his lips dancing across the base to add lovebites much harsher than your other lover between your shaky legs. your body calls for release as you tangle your fingers in a forest of blonde, causing your boyfriend to groan and hook his arms around your thighs— sucking, biting and ravishing your poor little entrance at an animalistic pace.

you jerk as the same feeling from earlier begins to unwind in your tummy, hips rolling violently against katsuki’s face. “gonna, mmmph....gonna—“

“what baby? what are you gonna do? be a good girl and tell daddy so he can help you...” eijirou coaxes the whines out of you, nosing up your bruised and bitten skin to trace over your wide parted lips. his own hand moves to join yours in your boyfriend’s hair, pushing his head further into your embarrassingly desperate cunt— lewd and wet sounds filling the air while katsuki growls at the slightly painful feeling.

“cum! gonna cum!” stars start to appear behind your eyes, splashes of colour dancing along your vision much like the people outside your room as you squeal and the knot in your stomach finally unravels with your release. the more explosive one out of your pair of lovers gulps down every drop of your sweet, honeyed release as the after shocks of your orgasm dash through your veins.

you watch with hooded eyes as bakugou leans up from between your slick thighs to share the taste of you in a kiss with kirishima, their tongues slide together in the filthy exchange, riling one another up while their hands slip under their shirts that have suddenly become to tight. stripping the offending garments, both of your boys return to you in your blissed out state, eyes wide with a carnal desire to take you again. “you did so well, naughty little thing,” bakugou hums, voice raspy as he pulls you into his chest. his caramel skin is almost too hot to the touch but it’s all you can focus on while you lose the feeling of eijirou to your left. the sound of a belt clinking further off is faint, but you pay it no heed as the blonde before you lays back with you on top of him. “‘gonna give you our cocks now, ‘kay princess? gonna cum on our cocks while we fuck you into next year...”

suddenly, you become hyper aware of the cockhead that presses against your creamy clit and gently push your hips back against it, just to hear katsuki groan. his large and worn palms settle on your waist as he grinds back to meet your sticky pussy— the feeling making both your mouths fall open in low groans. “gimme your cocks, please,” is all you can say, mind far to hazy to form a proper sentence containing any word other than please. “want it now, can’t wait,” you can barely finish your sentence, too needy to think as you press your lips against bakugou’s for the first time that night, shivering at the taste of your release against his tongue. the kiss is sloppy, going nowhere in particular as you grind against each other and wait for kiri.

speaking of the red headed devil, he leans over the two of you, grabbing your jaw delicately to steal a kiss from you as his own length presses hotly against your backside. “can’t let you two have all the fun, can i?” your boyfriend chuckles breathlessly, slowly circling his hips into your ass, you have no idea how long the boys have been hard for but they waste no more time lifting your hips to align both of their thick cocks against your entrance.

bakugou soothes small circles into your lower back as the two of them press into you, there’s a slight sting as your hole resists their intrusion— a burn that brings tears to your eyes with the attempt to double stuff you but you bite your lip and focus on the feeling of their leaking tips smearing precum along your velvet lined walls. a broken moan escapes you when they finally bottom out, thick and length girths buried balls deep inside of your throbbing heat and trapping them in.

you pulse around them as the boys wait for you to adjust, their hot breath tickling at your ears and neck. “yn,” katsuki groans, fidgeting beneath you while your nipples harden against his chest. “you’re s’fuckin tight, do we not fuck you enough? shit baby...”

“uhuh, need you ta move, ta fuck me open...please,” you slur, slumping between kirishima and bakugou— you can barely form words, mind too hazy at the thought of being so full of your boyfriends and their leaking, sloppy cocks. they love seeing you so useless between them, barley able to move except for the occasional jump in your hips to prompt them to move.

“so cute, let’s give the poor baby what she wants, yeah katsuki?”

nothing could prepare you for the sudden feeling of both your boyfriends’ thrusting into you at once. it’s a tight fit that has you jolting so far forward, bakugou has to grip your hips to keep you still while kirishima grunts into your neck, hushing his own means with every kiss he places against your skin. the red head places a weighted palm on the base of your spine, forcing your ass up into the air and setting the pace. your cunt spasms with the roughness, soaking their cocks in your honeyed nectar as they push into you, stretching your hole for all it’s worth.

the boys have had their way with you before, usually taking turns forcing their cocks down your throat and painting your tongue with the taste of salty cum or spreading your thighs wide and licking you clean— but the way they double stuff you has you losing your goddamn mind, bright red cockheads catching on every ridge of your gummy walls at every push and pull of their hips. the two aren’t doing any better than you, poor katsuki whimpers at the way you attempt to roll your hips back onto them— chest heaving as his own cock brushes against his lover’s inside of you.

the youngest of the two, eijirou can barely breathe, stuck on how your cunt flutters around them, sweaty chest moulding perfectly with your arched back and hands grabbing fistfuls of your cute fleshy ass. the room is filled with heavy pants and the scent kid your sex in he air, clear liquid seeping down from your twitching pussy onto your thighs and splashing against heir pelvises. “what a sticky fuckin’ mess, huh princess?” the ash blonde somehow manages to mock you, his hazy blood red eyes dancing with amusement as your own well up with tears and your mouth hangs open in a needy wail when when kirishima manages to plough directly into your gummy sweet spot. katsuki weakly grabs hold of your cheeks, and like earlier, forces them together while your babble nonsense about how good it feels. he taps your cheeks a few times, almost as if he’s trying to rouse you from your fucked out state and smirks with pride when all you can do is cry some more. “oh shit, ei, we’ve fucked her dumb.”

his evil laugh rings out into the electric air, mingling with the grunts of your red headed lover and the should of skin slapping on skin. it’s so wet, so dirty and you should feel nasty for how their cocks cream warmly inside of you. the hand that rests of your back ( also belonging to ejirou ) slides up to the back of your neck, tugging you upwards while he chokes you out. “yeah baby? you turning into our dumb, brainless little bitch on new years? how pathetic.” the red haired boy utters hoarsely into your ear, nipping at it with sharpened teeth. the sudden gushing from your iron hot walls gives away how you feel about his degrading words, each one going straight to your core.

you find it in you to nod, arching your back and shivering when your lovers laugh at you, demean you for how much of a stupid slut you’re being when sandwiched between them. “feel so full...want more, fuck me more eiji, harder katsu...” you trip over each of your breathless words, falling into a throaty groan that comes from deep with. you want more, need more— and they give it to you. pumping into you at an eleven faster pace than before, the clapping of balls against your ass and count filling your ears while the lively music begins to pump outside. ten boys live for his, taking you at a moment where anyone could walk in and see you stretched over their dribbling girths, the thrill drives them insane, drives you to sinful pleasures from worlds away.

“that’s our dumb little bitch, beg for more.” katsuki growls proudly, hand dropping between your entangled bodies to draw searing patterns into your clit— you’d scowl at him for activating his quirk every time his digits sparked over the puffy nub, but you were too far gone to care.

“keep rubbin one out on her bakugou— she clenches down so fucking hard when you do that.” kirishima sighs, hips beginning to stutter.

even the boys are joining you on cloud nine, eijirou tilting your head to get a good look at your face while you bounce back on their hardened lengths. bakugou and kirishima groan in unison at the sight of your lewd expression, eyes rolling back, tongue lolling out of your mouth while drool and tears smear across your mascara stained cheeks. what a fucking mess you are, body flushed and skirt stained, what a fucking mess they’ve made you— a weak and pathetic baby girl who shivers and writes each time a fat cock brushes up against your g-spot. broken laments slip from between your bruised lips as the two of your lovers angle their hips just right, prodding your pleasure spot over and over— and when both boys sneak hands down to press on your tummy bulge, you almost see stars.

your nails dig deeply into the pecks of the blonde beneath you, heart jumping as he lets out a broken howl of pleasure mixed with pain. the faint sound of a count down slips in from behind the closed door and you feel as if it’s a clock ticking towards your organs. desire flares up inside of you as you push and grind against your lover’s to chase your own release. “i’m so close, so so close... gonna cum, don’t stop. please don’t stop!” you chant, screwing your eyes shut while the boys give it their all.

three. the crowd cheers from outside.

“you cum when we say so, you cum on these fat cocks, okay honey? that’s right, that’s fucking right...” bakugou snarls, his own eyes crossing with the immense pleasure he feels from your welcoming heat. you nod feverishly and seek out his hand to hold.

two. drunken shouts spill into the halls, excitement crackling in the air.

their hips stutter, kirshima barley holding on as he works all three of you towards that final hurdle, kissing your cheek softly. “oh shit baby, the way you’re clamping around us...god, you’re gonna make me lose it. you can do it, you can cum for us...”

one. happy new year!

“holy fucking shit!”

“oh, fuck...yeah, yeah...”

colours, like fireworks, burst behind your eyes in flashes as the ecstasy that’s built up within you is finally released. your juices splash against the hips of bakugou and the pelvis of kirishima, painting them with your sweetness and making their skin shine under the yellow artificial light. they follow not long after as you tremble between their bodies; two loads of thick, hot cum spray your insides and cost it white— the potent milky liquid reaching as far as your womb, yet most of it leaking out of your velvet walls.

eijirou collapses to your side on the soiled sheets, watching with awe as a mix of all of your arousals seep out of your abused hole. you squirm in the elder’s grasp as the red head’s fingers delicately scoop up some of the sticky mess and bring it to his mouth. a satisfied hum leaves his lips as he sucks bus own digits clean, blinking at both you and katsuki sleepily. “happy new year, guys, i love you.”

“yeah yeah, love you both too,” bakugou rolls his eyes but holds an arm out for the younger male to roll into, hugging you both to the blonde’s chest. despite his his gruff and harsh voice, you can still see the traces of adoration on his face. he loves you both so much and wouldn’t dare change this night for the world. “happy new year, ya horny little bastards.”

completely blissed out and too tired to scold him for sounding so mean, however, you lean forward and press a soft kiss to the younger’s nose before sneaking one to the grump in which you lie on. “i love you guys so much, you nasty boys.”

the three of stay curled up for a while after that, as the party outside bursts with hopefulness for the new year. it seems as though you’re all going to fall asleep when the door bursts open to reveal a certain tipsy group of friends.

“so this is what you guys were doing instead of celebrating the countdown with us,” mina chimes, hanging off of sero’s back as she peeks her head through the doorway. you squeal and make a dive for the blankets, hiding your naked body from the view of your lovers’ prying friends.

bakugou’s roommate huffs triumphantly while izuku, todoroki and momo fail to hold back their laughter. “told you she was gonna get laid.”

kirishima flushes red as his hair and makes an attempt to join you in hiding under the sheets while your explosive boyfriend jumps out of the bed in full naked glory, activating his quirk to threaten his friends. “i’m gonna count to three, and all of you better start fucking running before i kick your asses for bursting in on us.”

“but i thought we already had a countdown...y’know for the new year,”denki dumbly comments. “don’t be silly baku bro!” but he doesn’t have much time to dwell on his thought for your angry boyfriend is already chasing him down the hall, explosions sparking at his sides.

it’s the first day of the new year and denki kaminari is already going to die at the hands of abutt naked katsuki bakugou.

happy fucking new year indeed.

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jiminzfilter · 3 years

Text

slow dancing in the night

→ Pairing. Taehyung x reader

→ Genre. established relationship, fluff, slice of life, model!taehyung, model!reader, taehyung missed you a lot, he is starving (his words not mine), gets a bit hot by the last 40 lines, mentions of oral (f) so I guess this counts as mature content, implied smut, making out (kinda), there is a bit of swearing

→ Summary. what could possibly be better than coming home after a long day of work to someone you love and missed a lot ?

→ Word count. 3.2k (!!!)

→ because I wrote this over a year ago when I still didn't know what I was doing with my writing, I had to go through a deep process of editing and re-writing before posting it. This might not be my best work but it's still a fic that I really really like :,)

→ song rec. slow dancing in the dark, Joji// still with you, Jungkook

Fridays have always been exhausting days for both you and your boyfriend, especially on runways weeks. As models, you were put under a lot of pressure.

Pressure to be perfect, to smile but never smile too much, to look good, to not fall on stage.

Falling has to be the most tragic thing that can happen to your carreer as a model, the hungry stares of thousands of photographers and reporters ready to share the latest news to the press.

Yeah, it was exhausting.

This week was no exception... or maybe it was since, this time, you were the only one working until late.

It’s four in the morning and you’re already on your way out - kind of running late, oBviOusLy - quietly wishing your boyfriend a good day.

He is not working today.

That lucky bastard.

He gets to enjoy his free day in bed, lazing around, while you work your ass off all day. He mumbles something that you assume is a sort of goodbye. He is still asleep.

You look at him one last time before leaving the room and smile. He looks so peaceful.

You still remember the day you met, by pure luck even though you both call that fate. That was 5 years ago, when you just debuted your career as a model and were not that comfortable around high heels.

Okay no. Let’s be real.

You hated wearing them because you couldn’t walk in heels higher than 5 cm.

It’s still a wonder how you managed to make it in the first place.

Were you wearing flat shoes for the audition ? Damn you really must’ve done an impression on the judges if they made you pass without the heels try-on.

Your first day at the agency was chaotic to say the least. Your manager made you walk around the building, to visit she said. She made you wear heels. HEELS. That devilish person.

But, thank to that, you got to meet Taehyung. Your eyes landed on him as you were visiting the lounge and couldn’t tear them away from his figure. The poor man had to witness you fall down because you weren’t watching your steps anymore.

I mean.

Who could blame you ??

That was Kim frEaking Taehyung

!!!

He even came to help you get back on your feet and asked if you were alright, kind of amused.

It’s not everyday you see someone falling down in here, let alone a newbie

Let’s be honest, you were so embarrassed.

First day of work and you’re already failing falling.

That night when you came home, you spent the night wearing heels and prayed really hard you’d never have to face him again. After all, the building was big enough and there were enough workers that you could avoid Taehyung easily

If only

The NeXt day, you were told that you had a couple shooting, with none other that Kim Taehyung.

GreaT

He would occasionally tease you about your fall and check on you to see if everything was alright. He watched you carefully as you were walking around with heels.

From up close he looked even more handsome.... :)

After this day, you started talking with Taehyung more and more. He introduced you to everyone around the agency. You met outside of work, got to know each other. You both became regally good friends but there was something lingering in the air, in the way you’d look at each other or stood so close to him after a couple glasses of wine that you could breathe his air.

So what was bound to happen happened and you went from friends a to lovers without really noticing it.

He was still your best friend...somehow

Eventually, you took things to the next level and moved in together... maybe a half and a year ago or so ? You’ve never been happier in your life

And, well, you’d actually be happier if you could spend the day with boyfriend instead of running around trying to find god knows which accessories you need for the rehearsal.

8 in the morning is noT a time to be doing cardio.

Especially while wearing heels

Become a model they said, it’ll be fun they said

“Y/n! Come here please I need you to try on this dress before you go!” Your personal stylist calls “I made sure to fix it yesterday so it’d be a perfect fit for the show”

You stop your tracks and go to her “make this quick i have to go get changed before 9 otherwise I’m screwed. Why did they even decide to do the rehearsals so early today ?” You sigh, frustrated, and put on the dress she’s handing you “thank you”

“Okayyy...it looks great. Gold looks amazing on you.” She smoothes the dress and gives an approving nod, visibly satisfied ; “You’ll look perfect for the Grand Finale. Oh god it’s already 8:30 you better go before Mr.Kim throws a fit because you’re late”

You both giggle ; “thank you for fixing the dress Naeun, see you later today. Well, probably tonight. Byeeee”

The rehearsal seems to never end. You’re squeezed in dozens of different outfits, gorgeous for sure but sO tight. Mr. Kim, the one who organised the runway, is such a perfectionist that you have to re-do some things multiple times before he’s satisfied. One time the lighting isn’t right, the other the models are walking too fast, not on beat and so on.

Everyone hates him for that but he always makes the best shows so you just follow.

After multiple tries, the rehearsal finally comes to an end. It’s already 4PM. You barely get time to breathe and go pee before you’re back into the ‘running-around-to-find-my-dress-and-fix-my-makeup-oh-god-i-gotta-be-on-stage’ crazy mess.

Walking on the runway feels amazing, running backstage is terrible.

It’s so hot and small back there you can hardly move around well.

It takes 2 hours for the whole fashion show to be over, one more for pictures outside the catwalk and chat with reporters. Since you’re kind of a famous model now, you get invited to the afterparty and spend few extra hours interacting with some celebrities that attended the show. Other models were invited and you’re happy to see familiar faces amongst them. Jimin, an old colleague and friend of yours, comes your way and compliments you. You chat with him for a while before deciding you’ve had enough for the day and leave the party. A few more people greet you on your way out.

A taxi takes you back to you company, where you left your stuff in the morning. You spend an extra thirty minutes getting rid of your heavy makeup and striping off that gorgeous but awfully tight golden dress you’ve been wearing ever since the end of the runway.

Now, you can FinaLLy go home. yassssss

It’s almost 12am when you leave the agency and climb into yet another taxi. The ride is quiet, background music playing over the car’s radio, and you take some time to look at what you were gifted for your performance : fancy makeup products, accessories, pieces of clothing-but not those from the runway, you sadly never get to keep those. Being kinda famous has its perks :,)

You then decide it’s time to warn Taehyung you’ll arrive soon and send him a few texts. As if he was waiting for them, he instantly replies saying he’ll be waiting for you and proceeds to spam you with heart emojis. Sometimes, it looks like this man just discovered what emojis were and is trying to use them as much as possible. What a child…

It’s way past midnight when you finally step into your duplex and the first thing you notice is that the place is way too quiet.

Maybe Tae went back to sleep, who knows, it’s super late after all…

You remove shoes and jacket and drop your bags in the entrance before going further and you call out quietly “anyone here? Tae, you sleeping?”

There is a faint glow from the tv on your right but the sound has been muted.

Weird…

“Taehyung ?" You call one last time

Suddenly, two strong arms wrap themselves around your waist and you’re pulled into someone’s chest. You gasp, almost scream, but soften up when you feel the warmth on your back

“Hi baby” a deep voice says in your ear, sending chills down your spine “I missed you”

You turn around and are very pleased to see a handsome face and a warm exposed chest your boyfriend smiling at you.

“Mhm, missed you too” You wrap your arms around him and rest your head against his chest, happy to hear his heartbeat. Taehyung places his head atop of yours and gently strokes your hair. You tighten your grasp around him and hum.

Few seconds later, he lifts your chin up and gently lays a kiss on your lips.

“How are you doing?” He asks, his right hand cupping your cheek. The warmth of it is comforting.

“Exhausted, but you know how it goes” You shrug and he smiles

“Not too tired for dinner ? I could cook something if you want”

“Mhm... let me just go shower and put something else on” You sadly let go of him

“Sure, go ahead” he whispers and you give him a kiss before regretfully tearing yourself away from him.

You walk up the stairs to your bedroom, where you find the bed undone. You smile, Taehyung never really liked making the bed and, very honestly, neither did you. You slump onto the mattress and bury your face into the pillows, inhaling his scent. Lavender. Relaxing. Just like he is.

After a warm shower, you find a t-shirt Taehyung left on a chair in the room and wear it. It’s big enough to reach your thighs and, if you were more energised, you’d probably stay like this. You grab large pants and put them on.

Once again, you smell lavender all around you.

When you’re back in the living area, you see Taehyung busying himself in the kitchen. He hears your steps and his eyes find yours as a smile appears on his face when he notices that you’re wearing his shirt

“My shirt looks better on you than it’d ever do on me” He teases, his gaze longing on your frame.

“maybe I should keep it then” you smile and ask ; ”Do you need any help?”

“no no no no no, you’ve worked enough already. Go and have some rest. I'll call you when everything’s ready okay?”

Too tired to argue on this anyways -and thankful for the given rest-, you go lay down on the couch, your body oriented to let you look at Taehyung.

As he hums and moves to the chill music that was playing in the background, you start to detail his beautiful figure. From the curl of his dark hair (which you knoW are so so soft to the touch) to his beautiful profile and his nose you love so much down to his broad shoulder and then his tanned abs you see from time to time when the opened shirt of his pyjama moves according to his steps.

oH! Let’s not forget his perfect hands gripping at the pan’s handle while he cooks… vegetables? Something like that yeah.

Taehyung is giving his best into what he’s cooking. Vegetables with rice, that’s the only thing he could do quickly.

Quickly as in less than half an hour, unlike his friend Namjoon who’d take this time just to cook the rice.

The music he put earlier is slowly starting to bore him. After washing his hands, he reaches out for his phone and plays a different playlist. It’s one you name yourself when the two of you were still friends (aka not dating yet). “Taetae fm” because you once joked he should have his own broadcasting channel on the radio. He’d always criticise the music playing so why not have his own channel 👀

“You know Y/n, I actually watched the fashion show live this afternoon. I mean, of course you know because I always do that haha. Anyways, you really were the highlight of the runway tonight. And I’m not saying this in a biased point of view. Okay I might be a bit biased as your boyfriend but I swear that it’s true!! You literally shone back there, especially in that gold dress you were wearing and even the audience was impressed by your looks maybe you didn’t see it on stage but some cameras filmed their reactions and everyone was looking at you. Really, you were so gorge-oh” Taehyung looks at you and smile fondly “Of course you’re asleep, baby”

He lets his phone aside and checks the now cooked food before making his way to the couch. There’s a blanket on the sofa, he covers you with it, scared you might get cold. Taehyung put a loose strand of hair behind your ear and places a kiss on your chin.

You slowly open your eyes and find yourself face to face with him. You both smile.

“Hi there beautiful” He whispers

“what time is it? Did I sleep until the morning?” You’re scared of having slept through the entire nap without realising

“almost 1:20am, I just finished cooking. I thought you might be cold so I went to cover you with the blanket. You should go enjoy the food while it’s still hot, imma go to the toilet”

You nod as an answer and watch him leave upstairs. Getting up from the warmth of the couch is the hardest part so you keep the soft blanket draped around your shoulders and walk towards the kitchen. You grab two bowls and two pairs of chopsticks that you place on the counter along with glasses and a bottle of water.

You then go take care of the rice and the vegetables, which you mix in the pan. The song playing changes and your favourite nighttime tune starts.

“I don’t want a friend, I want my life in two” you sing along

“Waiting to get there, waiting for you” Taehyung’s voice startles you as he grabs your wrists and pulls your back close to him. You smile as he makes the both of you dance slowly. You put his arms around you so it’s like he’s hugging you from the back. You swing around for a little while, enjoying the close proximity as you both softly hum the song, making your body vibrate against each other, moving in perfect coordination.

“I love you” he whispers in your ear and then kisses it, sending chills down your spine, before lifting one of your arm up to make you turn so that you’re now facing him “did my baby sleep well?” You nod as you place your arms around his waist, paying attention to go under the shirt so you’re touching as much skin as possible.

Taehyung chuckles before asking you in that same, chill-sending, low deep voice ; “Still hungry? Because I’m starving”

If you didn’t just wake up, you would’ve definitely caught that lust in his eyes and also the fact that this wasn’t as innocent as it seemed.

As an answer, your stomach growls pretty loudly, making Taehyung laugh . “I’ll take that as a yes. Sit down, princess. Let me take care of you”

You do as he says, jumping on a stool, detailing all of his moves. You only realise how hungry you actually were when you start eating. Rice with vegetables has never tastes better. You eat everything in less than 5 minutes when you’d usually take your time to finish your plate.

“Damn, that was a well needed dinner! Thank you Tae” you mess a bit with his soft locks

“Imagine me who was waiting for you all evening!! I was hungry too” He pouts.

“Oh come on, I was working today. Cardio in heels isn’t the best way to wake up, let alone spend the whole day standing in tight clothes. When I think you has a day off… pfff. I saw the bed, I’m sure you stayed there all day, you lazyyyyyyyyy ass.”

He mumbles some gibberish and you giggle, knowing that you're right. He looks away, crossing his arms and obviously sulking. You leave your stool and stand behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You leave a few kisses on his cheek and neck

“- Don’t be such a babyy. You know I love you.

- You do?

- of course, you dummy” you bop his nose "Sooo, what do we have for desert?

- You. Uh I mean!! Yoghurt, fruits, cakes, fruits…anything” he clears his throat

“Great! What do you prefer?” You open the fridge

“ I’d very happily eat you out honestly but an apple sounds good”

“Oh sur- wait whaT!?” You snap your head to him, eyes wide open

what did he sayyyyyyyy?????

whaT am I even supposed to say noW oh my goddddd

You close the fridge’s door, suddenly not so yogurt-hungry.

There’s a sudden silence between the two of you, only disturbed by the music still playing in the background.

“Mhm? What is it?” He turns around to face you, asking so innocently “did I say something wrong ?”

This man knows what he is doing for sure. Has he ever been that straightforward before ?

Taehyung stands and closes the distance between your bodies, now towering over you.

He lowers himself slightly to speak in your ear “what is it baby? Mhm?” You feel his smile on your cheek when he lays a kiss on it “what happened to my all proud and fierce y/n who was so confident telling me I was being lazy all day, huh? Tell me” He lays another kiss on your temple

OkaY

now he’s being a tease

Great

1 A.M. fluffy and bare chested teaser Taehyung

gReAT

Anyhow, it’s a good turn on.

Really.good.freaking.turn.on

Being tired and turned on was definitely not a good mix for you. You could feel the heat rising in your body and hear your heart pounding in your ears.

“Tae…”

He laughs gently seeing you silently begging for more, brushing your face with his lips, teasing another kiss.

“Tsk tsk, you gotta speak darling, I cannot guess”

You should calm down and go to sleep, it’s 1am and you have work tomorrow you should definitely-

“Fuck-“ You sigh and grab his face, sealing your lips together while closing your eyes.

It doesn’t take long for that kiss to turn into a heated make out session.

You grab and pull some of his dark curls while his hands travels under his your shirt.

You break the kiss just a second to catch your breath.

“Have i ever told you you have the perfect body?” Taehyung asks

“Did I ever tell you how perfect you are??” You reply

He laughs, deep raspy laugh.

You’re too tired for this

And because you’re tired, you’re even more horny :D

Taehyung puts his hands behind your thighs and you jump, locking your legs around his waist, hands still in his hair, lips against his while carries you to the bedroom.

He leaves your lips to travel down your jaw and then collarbone. You throw your head back.

Taehyung gently lays you on the mattress of your king sized bed and makes it his personal mission to pleasure you tonight.

#taehyung fics #taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung au #taehyung fluff #bts fanfic #taehyung #taehyung ff #fluff #implied smut #model taehyung #bts fics #taehyung oneshot #taehyung one shots #taehyung one-shots #taehyung smut #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung au #it's 2am what am I doing #slow dancing in the night

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bitchassbucky · 3 years

Text

ＢａｃｋＴｏＹｏｕ (ＳａｍＷｉｌｓｏｎｘＦ!Ｒｅａｄｅｒ)

📎Word Count: 1.5k

📎Warning/s: some heckin’ words. Bucky’s in this, he’s a bit annoying (affectionately) <3 MINORS DNI.

📎A/N: omg my first Sam fic! i wanna thank my boo @babyboibucky for enabling me hsakjdhak ily! this is for you, bee!

📎Masterlist || Ask || AFTERDARK

📎 Follow the story: Back To You, Dimples, Inked

“Are you even listening to me?” Bucky says, annoyed that Sam has been looking down on his phone, remotely giving attention to their conversation.

Sam grins, fingers dancing over the keyboard on the screen, “Yeah, yeah. Something about motel rooms—or beds.”

“I said that they gave us two beds in one room,” the former spots their door number, quickly walking to it. The tactical bag swinging over his cybernetic arm freely.

The night was warm, the air blew the ocean mist towards the town. The parking lot is empty save for a black sedan that’s already been through a lot. They chose to stay low instead of getting a room at a decent hotel close by–something about them not likening the crowd.

Once inside, both men cleared the room in 30 seconds flat. The window opens out, the door stays closed and locked. The TV has to be on but kept on low volume. The beds are made, it’s clean; beats the flat beds on the plane.

Sam throws his bag over to the bed closest to the window, calling dibs. “Hey, you got headphones?” He asks.

“No,” Bucky answers, settling his things below the foot of the bed, “why?” He catches Sam again smiling giddily over something, “what you got a girl there or something?”

“It’s none of your business,” Sam retorts, quirking his eyebrow upwards, “well? Do you have headphones?”

“If you listened to me, you would’ve heard me say ‘no.’”

Bucky should’ve had brought headphones. Sam has been droning on and on with a ‘friend’ over on a video call.

Not that he’s eavesdropping and nosy but he saw how Sam lit up when a voice came in from his phone.

“Hey, Sammy! I finally get to see your face.” You say, your voice crackling over Sam’s speakers, “am I on speaker right now?”

Sam smiles, focusing on your background and seeing pictures and posters plastered on the wall, “oh, yeah. Sorry, I forgot my earphones somewhere.”

“What? Old man Barnes rubbing off on you?” You laugh, your glasses reflecting your laptop’s screen. Your joke sending Sam into a laughing fit.

“You know he’s in the room, right?” Sam clarifies as he turns the camera to Bucky, much to the former’s dismay. But despite himself, Bucky waves to the camera.

“Heard a lot about you, Barnes! Hope you’re ready for frequent bathroom trips from this one.”

Sam faces you again, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes, “Shut up or I’m gonna drop the call.”

You quickly send him an emoji via text, Sam rolling his eyes as you giggle. “Anyway, since you can’t join in on the fun, you’ll be my audience tonight.”

Sam gives you a confused look, a hint of crease appearing between his brows. “Tonight? What’s tonight?”

A fake gasp and an overdramatic show of hurt had him chuckling, “You already forgot the karaoke night you promised me, didn’t you?”

He grins apologetically and looks at the camera, as if looking into your eyes, “I’m sorry. Been busy these past few weeks.”

You smile softly, the imagery giving Sam a burst of butterflies in his tummy, “it’s okay. I was just being dramatic. I got that from you, you know.”

You are not a good singer. But you confidently belt out the highest of notes like one. Complete with hand gestures, you hold out the last note of the song.

“Thank you,” you bow down to your imaginary crowd off-camera, “I’ll be here all night.”

“On god, please don’t,” Sam interjects with a tender smile and soft eyes.

“Sammy!” Your eyes glazing over your screen, a deep pang of homesickness hitting you, “I missed this. I missed you.”

He nods, his lips pressed tightly as he tries to find the words to respond, “I missed you too, bub.”

A soft note of a love song sounds over your speaker, traveling to his, “you love this song.”

Sam nods, reminiscing the moments he had with you during college. The one time you almost kissed—where are these memories and feelings coming from?! “Yeah, and---”

The doorbell rings on your end. Your eyes glinting as you stand up. Food delivery!

“Hold that thought, Sammy. My food’s here,” you say, your voice faint as you’re practically halfway through the door.

“She is a god-awful singer,” Bucky expresses, “but you love her, don’t you?”

“What?” Sam quickly taps a button on his screen—stupid Bucky and his stupid mouth. He covers his phone’s mouthpiece as if that could help, “shut the hell up.”

Sam’s changed demeanor confirms Bucky’s growing suspicion, “so you do love her!”

The latter glances at the empty screen, hoping you didn’t hear anything. Or maybe, he does?

The only sign of life from your end is the sound of various utensils cluttering and a metal bowl falling to the floor, making both men wince at the sudden noise.

Sam lowers the volume of his phone, facing Bucky from their respective beds.

“Shit,” Sam exclaims, running a hand over his handsome face, “maybe I do.”

This time, he finally lets himself go through the memories you made together before he left for the military.

The coffee dates, the late-night calls, the breakfast hangouts, the study sessions. You light up even the most boring of things. The texture of your skin, the sound of your laugh, the twinkle in your eyes bring Sam into a warm place.

You make him feel enough. You see him through and through.

Oh shit, he is in love with you.

Bucky just looks at him, boring holes in his face, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “You really just realized, just now?” Sam’s not sure if it’s a rhetorical question.

“The way you talk about her. The way you talk to her. You see her and the things she like everywhere we go and you realize it just now?” So, it is a rhetorical question.

The revelation leaves Sam amused but unable to form words, “I… Do–I do love her. I’m in love with my best friend.”

A silent beat drops in the room—save for the faint hello? coming from Sam’s phone.

Ah, fuck.

Bucky put on his jacket planning to head out (to the motel’s ice machine) to give you two privacy. He bids Sam good luck and you a good night before walking towards the door.

As soon as the door shuts, Sam increases the volume on his phone again.

“Sam?” You call out, “I can’t see you, your cam’s off.”

In panic, he realizes that he tapped the wrong button—maybe Old Man Barnes had rubbed off on him.

You smile and sat up a little bit straighter when his face lights up your screen again.

“So… how much did you hear about the whole thing?” Sam wants to tread carefully around the subject, the first time he feels uncomfortable opening up to you.

He fully expects you to dismiss the topic, turn in for the night, and leave him lamenting about his feelings. And he’s somehow okay with it.

“Kinda, everything.” You confess, there’s nothing holding you back now, “I, you know-- I’m glad you got ‘round it. Even if it took you years.”

Another pin drops inside Sam’s head, “what do you mean?”

“Look, I confessed to you before we graduated but you never acknowledged it. So, I never brought it up again.” Even miles apart, Sam’s presence was around you. The bracelet he gave you during junior year, his favorite mug you borrowed from him, a ton of his shirts and hoodies that he gave to you before moving out after graduation.

“You confessed to me? When?” Sam racks his brain for the smallest of details, for the quietest of whispers.

“I wrote you a letter. Remember? I slipped it under your door after finals week.”

After all these years, Sam never quite found out who wrote him that letter, “you never signed it.”

Sam didn’t expect you to laugh, to double over such a serious conversation, “dude, I did, I signed it. Why would I send you a deep proclamation of love without signing it?”

“It was written on pink paper, right? I still have it. You wanna bet that you don’t have your name on it?”

Your eyes widen in embarrassment, heat creeping up your cheeks, “oh my god, are you serious? I didn’t sign it?”

Sam laughs softly, his eyes crinkling the same way. There are lines decorating his eyes but he was still your Sam.

“No, ma’am.” He declares, the air somehow lighter now, “if you did, I would’ve said something.”

A hum escapes your lips, curling into a gentle smile, “good to know.”

The comfortable silence envelops the room, years of yearning and pining finally coming to end.

“Hey, after this mission - I was thinking if you want to go out. Catch up and you know, finally, talk in person.” Sam asks, there’s still a tiny voice inside his head not believing the talk that had transpired.

“I’d love that, Sam.”

The sentiment crashes and closes in on itself as Bucky barges into the room, holding a bucket of ice in one hand and a pack of beer in the other, “congratulations, idiots.”

#bitchasbucky writes #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x reader fluff #sam wilson x reader angst #sam wilson x reader smut #sam wilson fluff #sam wilson angst #sam wilson smut

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jamaisjoons · 4 years

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love alive ⤑ jjk | m.

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 a year after you and jungkook break up, the two of you meet at your brother’s party. 〞post break up au. exes to lovers au.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: jungkook x reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: angst ⋆ fluff ⋆ smut

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 17k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: mentions of alcohol, swearing, so much angst, pining? i guess, they’re both broken up but still love each other so there’s that lmao, reader emotionally cheats a fair amount, dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, sub!reader, pussy eating, hair pulling, fingering, dirty talk, this was supposed to be soft sex but idk what happened, okay it’s kinda soft but also feral, tender feral sex, aka the seraphjoon vibe, unprotected sex, riding, creampie, multiple orgasms

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: YEEEHAW LOOK I DID SOMETHING !! i had sudden inspo for this fic and while it HURTS it doesn’t hurt too bad i dont think. anyway, i hope you enjoy it but its like 3am so i’m going to bed now hawyeet

⇥ part of the mixtape series

⏤ edited by my wonderful beta @shadowsremedy

One late Friday evening, Jungkook finds himself in his apartment. He’s currently sat on the sofa, simply staring off into space as he waits for his date to return. Jungkook doesn’t really remember much about her, they’d just been to dinner and try as he might, he just hadn’t been able to focus on the conversation. One reason being none other than it had been a completely stilted conversation - first dates were always awkward - but paired with the fact he barely knows her, and that he’d been on about seventeen different first dates in the last three months, he’d found himself unable to really keep the conversation going.

Of course, the second - and more major - reason, would be that she’s not you.

But Jungkook would rather not think about that right now.

“Do you have any wine?” Jungkook’s date calls out. Breaking out of his daze, Jungkook’s eyes come back into focus as he trains his attention back onto her. Eyebrows slightly furrowed, he scrambles for her name. Jiha? Jihyo? Jihye! That’s it. Jihye looks at him expectantly, waiting for his answer.

“Uh, maybe. I don’t know,” comes Jungkook’s distracted answer, “there may be some in the bottom cupboard on the left-hand side,” he continues nonchalantly - not really thinking about it. He thinks he remembers seeing an open bottle there, but again, he doesn’t drink wine all that often so he doesn’t really care. He watches Jihye rummage around in his kitchen, her short black dress riding further up the backs of her thighs - and Jungkook knows he should feel some sort of attraction towards her - she’s incredibly beautiful - not to mention her body’s practically perfect - and yet, he feels… nothing.

Why is he on a date with her again? Oh yes, because she frequented the same gym as he did and had asked him out randomly earlier in the week. Jungkook lets out a little sigh, his head falls back onto the back of the sofa. Staring up at the ceiling, his mind casts back to all the dates he’s had recently. Most of them approach him and he doesn’t really know why he keeps saying yes - but he has an inkling it’s to do with the fact that he’s still not over you. Though, that doesn’t really matter.

You’re long gone, and the last Jungkook had heard about you, was that you’d met someone else - someone willing to give you more than he could - someone willing to give you what you want. His heart constraints at the thought of you, but he shakes the thoughts out of his head. He needs to move on - it’s been long enough. Almost a year. Well, it’s been exactly seven months, twenty-three days and nine hours since you walked out on him, but who’s keeping count? Certainly not him.

“Oh! I found some. It’s already open - do you mind if I have some?” Jihye asks, and reflexively, Jungkook finds himself rolling his eyes. If he hadn’t wanted her to have some, he wouldn’t have told her where the wine was. Biting his tongue, however, Jungkook just lets out a non-committal hum. Once done pouring herself a glass of wine, Jihye returns to him while taking a sip of her wine. Suddenly, she stops, her face twisting in disgusting as she spits her wine back into her glass. Own features twisting in disgust, Jungkook regards her through guarded eyes, wondering what was going on.

“Gross! Why does this wine have pieces of cork in it? Also, I think it’s gone off - it tastes weird,” Jihye gripes as she takes her glass back into his kitchen. Barely paying attention to her words, Jungkook stares in unsettlement at the bottle. The dark green glass glints under the warm kitchen lights, his heart lurching as he recognises the bottle.

With unfocused eyes, he stares at the bottle, unmoving as his mind buzzes with what feels like static. Hazily, he registers that Jihye is speaking, but through the thick fog of his memories, Jungkook’s mind barely notices what she’s saying. Nonetheless, the exact moment Jihye begins tilting the bottle over the sink, attempting to flush its contents, Jungkook jumps to his feet.

“No! Don’t throw it out,” Jungkook’s voice thunders, his long legs carrying him into the kitchen swiftly. Jihye startles, looking at him in dumbfounded incredulity.

“What? Why? It’s got pieces of cork in it, and it tastes funny,” Jihye replies, turning back and beginning to pour the wine again. Abruptly, Jungkook snatches the bottle out of her hand, causing Jihye to jump.

“It’s not off, it just tastes like that. It’s bad wine,” Jungkook mutters as he puts the stopper back in the neck of the bottle.

“All the more reason to throw it out?” Jihye suggests, Jungkook’s jaw flexing at her words.

“I’m not throwing it out,” Jungkook replies, his voice hardened. Jihye cocks an eyebrow at him.

“Come on Jungkook, I think you should throw it out,” Jihye says coyly, a smile crawling onto her face. Imperceptibly, Jungkook’s eyes narrow. The flirtatiousness in her demeanour isn’t lost on him, nor is the fact that she likely thinks he’s joking. But Jungkook isn’t joking. He’s not throwing the wine out - whether it has pieces of cork in it, whether it tastes bad, or even if it had been off, he’s not throwing it out.

“No,” Jungkook says, his voice full of resolve. Jihye startles as she realises he’s not being playful. She raises her eyebrow once again, cocking her hip to the side.

“What’s so special about it? It’s just a bottle of wine,” Jihye points out. Of course, to anyone, it would be just a bottle of wine - but to him, it’s so much more.

It’s the last thing he has left of you.

When you’d broken up with him, ending your five-year relationship, you’d moved everything out of his apartment. The stupid cushions Jungkook hated - really, they only took up more space on the sofa, meaning he couldn’t lounge about properly - your hundred and one towels, even the sheets: the ones that had smelled like you. They’re all gone, along with all your clothes and belongings, leaving a half-empty apartment, and a hole in Jungkook’s heart. Every and any trace of you had slowly been removed from his flat and consequently his life. And now, he’s left with just this bottle of wine. - the one you’d forgotten about because it’d been hidden at the back of the cupboard.

“Jungkook? Are you listening to me? What’s so great about this bottle?” Jihye asks. Once again, however, Jungkook’s mind wanders to you. Unable to pull away from the bottle, Jihye fades from the world, her voice becoming distant and hazy as he recedes back into his memories.

Flashback - three years ago

A knock resounding at Jungkook’s door, he takes a deep breath. Looking at himself in the mirror one last time, he brushes the non-existent lint off his blazer. Then, running his fingers through his hair, he nods at himself and leaves his bedroom. Approaching the door, he swings it open, a large smile painted on his face as he spots you.

“Hello, beautiful,” Jungkook greets the moment he spots you. However, the moment he actually sees you, he finds himself stopping. Dressed in a flowing sundress, a dazzling smile on your face and bright, twinkling eyes - you look positively radiant. A loud whoosh of air escapes his nose, his eyes softening at you, “you look gorgeous,” he breathlessly says, his voice low.

Your smile brightening, you grin up at him, “Happy third anniversary!” you call out cheerily. Jungkook bites his lip, and unable to stop himself, swoops down and presses a kiss to your lips.

“Happy anniversary,” he mutters back, his lips brushing yours with every movement. Pulling your lower lip between your teeth, you chew on it while giving him a smile. Even three years into your relationship, Jungkook still managed to set butterflies aflutter in the pits of your stomach with the slightest touch.

Swiftly, you step into his apartment, easily navigating your way towards his kitchen as you place the bags of food and wine onto his counter. “Are you sure you don’t want to go out?” you ask curiously, peering at your boyfriend through the corner of your eyes.

However, Jungkook only steps up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, “Nope!” he happily replies, popping the ‘p’ sound, “you said you’d rather just have a quiet night in. Besides, we went out for the cruise-ship dinner thing last year,” Jungkook continues, humming in thought at the memory. A smile curls on your own lips and you twist in his arms, winding your own around his waist as you place your head on his chest.

“Mmm, that was a good anniversary. But if I remember correctly, someone ended up being seasick from drinking too much,” you say pointedly, tilting your head to look up at him, your chin resting on his sternum. Despite his cheeks flushing a rosy shade, Jungkook scowls.

“It’s not my fault… the alcohol was stronger than I thought it was,” he mumbles under his breath. You shake your head in fondness, but then, your lips curl into a slight frown. Every anniversary, Jungkook had taken you somewhere - your first, he’d taken you on a ski trip, your second, he’d taken you on a weekend break to Jeju island, and of course, your third had been a cruise-ship dinner. This year, however, you’d been recently promoted to the department head of your company, but that had meant additional stress and weight to an already heavy workload. As a result, you’d asked Jungkook if he was okay with just a quiet night in - because there was nothing you wanted more than to just spend some time with your loving boyfriend.

“Are you sure this is okay? If you want to go out or something, we still can,” you ask. However, Jungkook only shakes his head once again while pulling you closer into him.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. Honestly. I just want to spend some time with you. Whether that’s here in my apartment, or in yours, or on an expensive date, or even in a garbage dump, it doesn’t matter. I just want to be with you,” Jungkook grins before smacking a sloppy kiss on your forehead. Face twisting in disgust, your earlier doubt about Jungkook being happy with your choice of date fades away, and you playfully smack him before pushing him away.

“Ew gross! You just slobbered all over me,” you gripe, rubbing the wet spot on your forehead.

Waggling his eyebrows, “and there’s more where that came from,” Jungkook playfully teases. A light snort escapes your lips as you shake your head before turning around.

“Yeah, whatever. I bought wine and steak for dinner. It’s not much but I don’t know, I felt like being classy,” you casually shrug while turning to the bag of groceries Jungkook hadn’t noticed. Head cocked to the side, he grimaces at the bottle of wine. Suddenly, you stop, your lips curling in a frown, “Although… in hindsight, I should have bought more food - knowing your bottomless stomach,” you sigh, looking at him from the corner of your eye.

“Yeah, you probably should have,” Jungkook deadpans. Lips twisting into a pout, your shoulders deflate at his words. Jungkook sees your disappointment, his heart dropping in his chest at the thought of upsetting you. He’d meant it as a joke - really, he had - but you’d clearly taken it seriously. Stepping up to you, Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist once again, his chin resting on your shoulder and hands clasps around your belly.

“I was only joking, sweetheart,” Jungkook says lowly, his face nuzzling into your hair while he presses a kiss to the outer shell of your ear. “Wine and steak sound good. Very classy,” he continues, pressing another kiss to your flesh - this time the column of your throat.

Instantly, your lips curl into a victorious smirk, “Okay, great!” you say, your shoulders immediately perking up. Jungkook blinks at your sudden change in demeanour, his nose scrunching when he realises what’s just happened.

“Hey! Did you do that on purpose?” he asks, his eyes narrowing into slits, his gaze full of accusation. Face twisting into a picture of innocence, you smile at him coyly - and if he didn’t know you as well as he did, he’d buy it - but Jungkook sees the sparkle of mischief in your eyes.

Before he can open his mouth, however, you’re already cutting him off, “Where’s your corkscrew?” you ask, rummaging through his drawers. Jungkook watches you search through the utensils, your lips curling downwards in concentration.

His own lips twisting, Jungkook approaches you, helping you look for the corkscrew. However, after a few moments, “Oh. I don’t think I have one,” Jungkook finally says. Eyebrows furrowing slightly, Jungkook wonders if he ever even bought one, but he doesn’t think he has.

“Kook! How are we supposed to drink this now?” you whine, a pout forming on your face again. Shrugging, Jungkook whips out his phone.

“I’m sure we can like, find another way,” Jungkook replies, already googling a way to open the wine bottle. Curiously, you peer over his shoulder, Jungkook’s arm instinctively wrapping around you as he scrolls with one hand. Head tilting upwards, you smile at your boyfriend, his features slightly scrunched in concentration. Unable to help yourself, you lean up and press a kiss to the bottom of his jaw. The moment your lips brush his skin, the corners of Jungkook’s lips twitch before he twists his head and presses a kiss to the temple of your head.

Arms wrapping around his waist, you lean your head on his bicep, “find anything yet?” you ask, Jungkook humming in response.

“We could use a blowtorch,” he replies casually.

“Do you have a blowtorch?”

“Fair enough. We could smack it against the wall using something to cushion it.”

“And risk breaking the bottle? No thanks.” Like that, Jungkook continues reading out suggestions: from pumping it out using a bicycle tire pump, all the way to slapping it out with a shoe, only for you to refute them. Eventually, however, with no other option, you and Jungkook eventually try using a screwdriver. Which brings you to now, almost fifteen minutes later.

“Oh my god, I think I’ve got it,” Jungkook yells in triumph. You’re currently sat on the kitchen island, your legs dangling as you watch your boyfriend struggle with the bottle. About five minutes after attempting to open the bottle, you’d conceded defeat. Your boyfriend, however, is much more competitive than you are, and he’d downright refused to let the bottle win. Thus, for the last ten minutes, you’d watched your boyfriend futilely dig, and twist, the screwdriver into the cork.

Quirking your eyebrow at your boyfriend, your eyes rove over him. He’s currently stood with a victorious grin, the apples of his cheeks bunched up around his eyes. He’s holding out the wine bottle, the metal head of the screwdriver stuck into the neck of the bottle. Hell, the cork isn’t even in one piece anymore - bits and pieces of it littered on the floor around him from where Jungkook had dug it out in an attempt to bury the screwdriver into the wood stopper.

“Have you now?” you drawl sarcastically. It certainly doesn’t look like he’s got it. For one, the cork is still in the bottle.

Sneering at your snide tone, “Watch this!” Jungkook calls out, and then, grabbing the handle of the tool, he pulls as hard as he can. A loud pop resounds through the air and you startle slightly, watching as Jungkook holds the screwdriver - with half the cork attached to it - in the air.

“Oh my god! You did it!” you call in surprise, jumping off the table and walking towards him.

Puffing out his chest, “and you didn’t believe in me! But I did it anyway,” Jungkook says proudly.

You roll your eyes before gesturing to the half-broken cork, “yeah barely.”

“Tomato, tomato. Potato, potato. The point is, I did it, and we can have wine now” Jungkook replies. With another roll of your eyes, you cross his kitchen and pull two wine glasses out of his cupboard.

“Yeah, yeah. My knight in shining suit. Now come on! I’ve literally been waiting twenty-five minutes to drink this,” you say, holding out the glasses towards him. Nodding, Jungkook pours the wine, filling the tumblers halfway before placing the bottle back on the island.

He takes the glasses from your hand, placing them on the dining table and you follow him, placing the plates of food onto the table. The two of you take seats opposite each other, Jungkook raising his glass towards you in a salute. For a few moments, the two of you tuck into your food, the muffled sounds of your joint chewing filling the air.

Then, “this steak is cold,” you grumble, a grimace settling on your face. In hindsight, after spending all that time trying to open the wine, the two of you should have heated your food - but in the triumph of actually opening the wine, you’d both forgotten.

“Yeah, and this wine is fucking gross,” Jungkook gripes, his own features twisting in disgust. Blinking owlishly, you reach for your own glass, sipping the burgundy liquid. The minute it washes over your tastebuds, you find yourself gagging. It’s sour - the acrid stench of it only burning your nasal cavity and intensifying the bitterness of the wine.

Forcibly, you swallow it down before spitting and sputtering into your hand, “yeah, and it’s got pieces of cork in it. Gross, what a waste of a hundred and fifty thousand won,” you scowl. Immediately, Jungkook baulks.

“A hundred and fifty thousand won? For that trash?” Jungkook yells in incredulity. You look at him in surprise, the two of you simply staring at each other. Then, all of a sudden, the two of you burst out laughing. Neither of you has any real reason for why you’re both laughing. Perhaps it was the ridiculous price of the incredibly poortasting wine, perhaps it was that Jungkook had spent a good fifteen minutes struggling with said wine or perhaps it was because even after all that struggle, neither of you could stomach the taste. Either way, the absurdity of the situation isn’t lost on either of you, and you both can’t help but laugh hysterically.

“Man, I can’t believe you spent that much money on that shit,” Jungkook giggles, wiping away at his tears.

Lower lip pulled between your teeth, you grin at Jungkook, “I can’t believe you spent so much time trying to open it,” you quip. Shaking your heads, you both resume eating your food, forgoing the wine.

Once the two of you are done, you help Jungkook clear the table. Jungkook watches you throw out the leftovers before placing the plates into the sink. The kitchen lights are dimmed low, the amber light reflecting off of your skin and silhouetting you in its glow. The bright walls off his kitchen only help to highlight your body, the hem of your dress swishing around your thighs with every movement. His darkened, lust-filled gaze rakes over you and he can’t help but swallow thickly when his eyes rest on the smooth curve of your ass.

Helpless against his desire for you, you feel Jungkook’s arms wrap around your body. Loosely, his hands rest on your hips, the pads of his fingertips gently digging into your flesh. “Do you wanna head to bed?” Jungkook asks, his voice breathy as he begins peppering kisses along the column of your neck. You raise your eyebrow at his sudden change in demeanour. Nevertheless, you’d be lying if you said his light, attentive touch wasn’t clouding your head in hazy lust.

“All of a sudden?” you ask, your tone light and teasing. Jungkook responds by digging his fingers harder into your hips, pulling them back so your ass is flush against his crotch.

“If I’m being honest, I’ve wanted to get you out of this dress as soon as I saw you in it. You look beautiful. I love you so much,” Jungkook rasps in response, lightly nipping at the sensitive flesh just below your earlobe. Twisting in his hold, you wind your hands around his neck, carding your fingers through his hair at the back of his nape before lightly playing with the locks.

“I love you too,” you breathe out, “take me to bed and I’ll show you how much,” you breathlessly whisper back. A shuddering exhale escaping his lips, Jungkook’s mouth descends onto yours. Instantly, the two of you lose yourselves into each other; the wine bottle long forgotten.

“Jungkook? Are you even paying attention to me?” Jihye suddenly calls out, her hands waving in front of his face. Blinking blankly, Jungkook’s vision comes back into focus. He looks around his apartment - it’s still the same as it was two years ago. The kitchen lights are still low, and his walls are bright, and that same bottle of wine sits on his marble counter - practically mocking him - but you’re not here. It’s not you standing in his kitchen.

“I- you need to leave,” Jungkook chokes out, his voice hoarse and his throat thick with emotion. Jihye looks at him in dumbfounded bewilderment. She opens her mouth to argue, but then stops, her words dying on her lips. Taking in Jungkook’s distant gaze, Jihye notices his attention is once again on the bottle. With a scoff, she rolls her eyes before snorting. Then, grabbing her purse, she stalks out of his apartment - but not before slamming the door.

Jungkook doesn’t care.

Instead, he stares at the dark bottle of wine. His reflection glints back at him, his distorted face mirroring the despair and sadness etched onto his face. Once again, he loses himself into his memories. Memories of when the two of you were still together, memories of you smiling at him, of you kissing him, memories of the two of you, when you were both happy - and together. But not anymore. Now, those memories that he’d once cherished - once taken for granted - are tainted: bruised and tarnished with the restless memories of you leaving; of you walking out of this very same apartment and leaving him all alone.

The warm memories that had once been his saving grace, now leave him cold, with a deep ache in his chest.

With one final glance at the bottle, Jungkook buries his head in his hands, and then lets out a heartwrenching sob.

In the comfort of your own home, you lie in your bed, staring up into nothingness. The bedroom is completely bathed in darkness, not even a single sliver of moonlight peeking in through the blackout-blinds you had installed. After your third anniversary with Jungkook, you’d moved in with him, and your ex-boyfriend had hated any and every inkling of light while he was trying to sleep. He simply couldn’t sleep unless he was in complete darkness. Of course, after two years of living with him, you’d also gotten used to it - and now, you aren’t able to sleep without complete darkness either.

Yet, you still aren’t able to sleep. There are many reasons for your lack of sleep. Many of them are to do with your ex-boyfriend. It’s been just over half a year since you and Jungkook broke up. Almost eight months now since you walked out of his life. Eight months since you reluctantly broke off your five-year relationships. But you had no choice. You and Jungkook had wanted different things in life and though heartbreaking, you knew it was best for the two of you to go your separate ways then and there.

Of course, knowing that didn’t make it any easier. Nor does it help qualm the crushing bitterness, nor the misery, you feel at Jungkook’s absence in your life.

Though, you figure, those feelings are a given. After all, the two of you had been together for five whole years. Five years is a long time to spend with someone - and for the entirety of those years, Jungkook had been your one and only - the man you had loved with your entire heart. The man you still love with all your heart. It’s not like you could just forget five years of love in a day - nor in eight months. Hell, you don’t think you could forget him, nor the love you feel for him, in your entire lifetime.

Thus, in the absolute dark of your bedroom, you stare up at the ceiling. Though, you don’t really see it. No, all you see is darkness. A low sigh escapes your lips and you shift on your bed, trying to find a comfortable position. But try as you might, you simply can’t find one. And it has every reason to do with the man occupying your bed - if you remove your residual feelings for Jungkook out of the picture. Tilting your head slightly, you turn to your side. Even in the darkness, you can make out the obscure outline of your current boyfriend’s - though you use that term loosely, because really, he’s a family friend you’ve known a while and your mother had set you up with - face as he snores lightly. With another sigh, you turn your head back to stare at the ceiling.

Other than thoughts of Jungkook, one of the main reasons you can’t sleep is: you’re on the wrong side of the bed. For as long as you’d been with Jungkook, even before you lived together, Jungkook had always slept on the left, and you’d slept on the right. It wasn’t like you’d purposely decided on that, it’s just how it had worked out. Jungkook always slept on the left, and you on the right - before the two of you had even met. And after you’d met? Well, it had just clicked - as if the two of you were made for each other.

But now, you’re on the left.

And Minhyuk is on the right.

And it’s not right. Nor does it feel right. In more than one sense of the word.

Shifting once again, you lowly groan when a sting of pain shoots through your lower abdomen, bringing you to another reason you can’t sleep. You’re on your period, and with your period, comes the cursed cramps. No matter how much you try, you simply can’t seem to find a comfortable position to lie in. That, paired with the fact that you’re on the wrong side of the bed, and the plaguing thoughts of Jungkook, has insomnia gripping at your head. Momentarily, you’d considered getting up and heating up a hot water bottle to soothe your pain, but you simply can’t find it in yourself to get out of bed - not when moving only seemed to fuel the fire in the pits of your uterus.

Once again, you turn to Minhyuk. Briefly, you consider waking him up and asking him to bring you the hot water bottle, and you even open your mouth to call him. But then, you pause, the words dying on your lips as your throat constricts. This scene is almost too familiar to you, and in the dark of your bedroom, you can’t stop your mind from wandering to the past.

Flashback - two years ago

Shifting uncomfortably, you’re woken from your sleep by the searing pain in your lower abdomen. Through the haze of your sleep, you let out quiet whimpers and continue shuffling in bed, trying to find a comfortable position to fall back asleep in. However, try as you might, you simply can’t seem to find one. This time, when you shift again, you feel Jungkook’s arm lazily wrap around you.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Jungkook asks while shuffling closer towards him. His words cause you to still, your shoulders relaxing as you feel his warm presence surround you. Your boyfriend moves his head to just over your shoulder, his hand sluggishly rubbing circles over your stomach. He nudges your t-shirt to the side - really, it’s his - and presses a tender kiss to the skin of your shoulder that he’s just exposed. Before you can even say anything, or alert him to exactly what is wrong, “do you have bad cramps again?” he sighs out. Despite your pain, you find your face softening, a soft smile curling on your lips at the sleepy tone of his voice.

“Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t wanna wake you up,” you reply lowly. Jungkook only shakes his head, his long hair tickling the flesh of your collarbone.

“Tis okay,” Jungkook slurs sleepily. Then, before you can tell him to go back to sleep, Jungkook is already crawling out of bed. You hear a loud thud, followed by a pained groan, “I’m okay. I just- didn’t see the end of the bed,” Jungkook mumbles through the haziness of his sleep. Instantly, his words cause concern to well up in your chest, however, before you can ask him if he’s okay, he’s leaving your bedroom.

Left alone, you flick the lamp on your bedside table on and sit up in bed with a wince. You take in short, deep breath, trying your best to soothe the vengeful cramps in the pit of your stomach. If you didn’t know better, you’d almost think your uterus was tying itself into knots. Another sharp sting and you let out a low whimper, doubling over in pain as you clutch your stomach.

Moments later, you feel a hand soothingly rub your lower back as your boyfriend - now more awake - crouches down beside your side of the bed. Large, doe eyes stare at you in concern as he passes you your hot water bottle. “Here you go, baby,” Jungkook says softly, placing the fuzzy bottle on your lower stomach. The warm heat instantly soothes your cramps, a sigh of relief escaping your lips as you feel the pain begin to subside.

“Thank you,” you rasp out, but Jungkook only shakes his head. Then, he thrusts his hand and a glass in front of your face.

When you quirk your eyebrow at him, “painkillers,” Jungkook merely responds. Your face crumples, your heart speeding up in your chest. Gratefully, you accept the pills from him, popping them in your mouth before chugging down the glass of water. When you’re done, Jungkook takes the glass from your hand and places it back onto your bedside table. Once done, he helps you shift back down into a laying position as he tucks you into bed. Then, he crawls under the sheets himself.

You feel the left side of the bed shift before Jungkook slides in. Rolling closer to you, he presses his chest against your back while throwing an arm to rest loosely over your waist. Lazily, he rubs his hand over your hips, soothingly massaging the skin while pressing tender kisses to the back of your shoulder. “Are you feeling better?” Jungkook mumbles. His voice is low, heavy with sleep, and you can’t help but shudder as it reverberates through your eardrum.

“Mmm. Much better. Thank you,” you whisper back, more than grateful at his thoughtful gestures. If there was one thing you absolutely adored about Jungkook, it would be his utter thoughtfulness. More often than not, you just wouldn’t need to tell him what was wrong; after almost four years together, he could simply read you like a book. He knew what you wanted and when you wanted it. He knew when to leave you alone, or when to help you. He could read your moods as if he was well versed in all things that surrounded you. More than anything, however, Jungkook was simply empathetic towards you - and it made you fall for him all the more.

“I love you,” you whisper, the words easily falling from your lips. You feel Jungkook’s lips curl against your shoulder, an indolent smile playing at his lips.

Without even a moment of hesitation, “I love you too,” he mumbles back. Then, the two of you fall back into silence: with you clutching the hot water bottle to your uterus, and Jungkook genially rubbing circles into the flesh of your hips.

Another sharp pain ricochets through your uterus, pulling you out of your reverie. A low whimper escapes your throat and you shift in bed again. However, unlike Jungkook, Minhyuk stays fast asleep. Once again, you contemplate waking him up and you don’t want to, but the pain is almost too much. Before you can stop yourself, “Minhyuk?” you whimper out while gently shaking him.

Minhyuk lets out a groggy groan before, “what’s wrong, ____?” he asks, his voice heavily laden with sleep.

“C-can you go into the kitchen and get me my hot water bottle, please? I’ve got really bad cramps,” you whisper hoarsely. Minhyuk only groans in response.

“____… I’ve got to wake up for work in three hours. Can you not get it yourself?” Minhyuk asks sleepily. There’s no malice in his tone, nor upset or anger, just drowsy question - and you know he doesn’t mean anything by it - but still, you can’t help the way your stomach drops at his words. Biting your lip, you suck in a sharp breath, the movement making you whimper in pain again. Clearly, Minhyuk hears the sound escape your lips, because he’s sliding out of bed - albeit begrudgingly - and leaving your bedroom.

Five minutes later, he walks back and passes you the hot water bottle. With a small voice, you thank him, Minhyuk grunting in response. The right side of the mattress tilts and you feel Minhyuk slide back into bed. “Goodnight,” Minhyuk mumbles, though you can tell he’s already falling asleep again. Briefly, he pecks your cheek before turning his back towards you. Short moments later, his light snores fill the quiet air of the night, leaving you alone once again.

Chewing your lip, you place the hot water bottle onto your stomach, allowing the warm, soothing sensation to assuage the pain of your cramps. Your mind casts back to Jungkook, and the way he took care of you on nights like this, and then you turn to Minhyuk once again. You can still feel his lips on your cheek - from where he’d kissed you - but it’s not the same. Minhyuk is nice, and though reluctantly, he still got out of bed to get you your water bottle.

But it’s not the same.

It’s not the same when he kisses you on the cheek, or brings you your water bottle. It’s not the same when he buys you flowers, or takes you out to dinner. It’s not the same when he kisses you, or when you sleep together. It’s not the same, because while nice, all of his gestures are empty. There’s no love in them, no thoughtfulness, no passion. Minhyuk is nice - and he does things out of nicety - but he also does them out of obligation.

And it’s not the same.

Because there is no love in them.

Because he’s not Jungkook.

Because he won’t ever be.

A month and a half later, you find yourself nervously staring at the brass-gold number plates of your brother’s apartment. You haven’t seen Hoseok in a few months - well, nine months to be exact. Nine months on this day. Wow. It’s really been nine months since you broke up with Jungkook, huh? It definitely feels like it’s been longer. If anything, it feels like an eternity. Though, you suppose, it must, since you’d gone from spending almost every day with him to suddenly not seeing him. It had been hard, and multiple times, you’ve wondered if you should just go back - but you know you can’t. You’d broken up for reasons - serious reasons - reasons that had meant a lot to you.

All these months, you’ve tried avoiding him as best as you could. Anything and everything that was within your power, you had done: from avoiding all of your friends because they reminded you too much of him, to moving to a different part of the city just to avoid running into him by chance. It had been hard, and god had it hurt - stillhurts - but you knew you had to do it. But now, standing in front of your brother’s apartment, you know you can no longer run from him anymore. Today is Hoseok’s birthday - and you know he’d be heartbroken if you didn’t turn up.

But you also know Jungkook will be here - because there’s no way Hoseok hadn’t invited him.

Funnily enough, you’d met Jungkook because of Hoseok. The two of them had met at the swimming club in your university, and the two had gotten along well. At first, you’d been fearful of admitting to Hoseok that you were seeing Jungkook - but to your utter surprise, your older brother just hadn’t cared. He liked Jungkook and he trusted Jungkook to treat you right - and he had. For five years, Jungkook had been the best, sweetest, most perfect boyfriend anyone could have asked for. Until that day. That fateful day, nine months ago, when you’d walked out of his apartment - and consequently his life.

“____? You okay?” Minhyuk asks, waving his hand in front of your space. Pulled out of your thoughts, you stare at your boyfriend - though once again, you use the term loosely. Minhyuk stares at you in confusion before gesturing to the door. The very same door you’d been blankly staring at while reminiscing about your brother and boyfriend. Looking at Minhyuk, you can’t help the way your stomach tosses at the sight of him.

Momentarily, you wonder what Hoseok would say. Hoseok absolutely adored Jungkook - to the point where you’d find your brother cuddling with your boyfriend, or kissing his forehead. You shudder just thinking about it. That had been a funny day. One day, you’d decided to surprise your boyfriend by spontaneously turning up at his apartment. However, to your utter surprise, you’d turned up just to see your boyfriend and your brother snuggling while watching Netflix. Sure, it was a cute sight, and ordinarily, you would have been touched. If it weren’t for the fact that your brother was cuddling your boyfriend.

So yes, suffice to say the least, Hoseok absolutely loved Jungkook - and throughout your entire relationship, he’d completely rooted and supported the two of you. Even when you and Jungkook would fight, even when you’d drive each other crazy, Hoseok would speak to the both of you and calm you down and make you see reason. Reason being that you both loved each other. Which is why, dread settles in your stomach as you stare blankly at Minhyuk. Once again, you wonder what Hoseok would say. You know he knows that you’re seeing Minhyuk - your mother has to have told him.

But knowing and seeing are two different things and you have no idea how he’ll react to Minhyuk. You love your brother, you really, really do - but Hoseok has a bad habit of not being able to bite his tongue - and that paired with the fact that he absolutely loved Jungkook - and still does - has trepidation settling deep within your stomach. It doesn’t help that it’s so soon after you and Jungkook broke up either. Nor does it help that Hoseok already knows Minhyuk - he is the son of your mother’s friend after all. But you’re twenty-seven now and you’re not getting any younger and you have to move on with your life. Whether that be with Jungkook or not. Though, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t completely distraught that it turned out to be without your sweet boyfriend. Or well, ex-boyfriend, you remind yourself.

Once again, Minhyuk looks at you expectantly. Drawing in every ounce of courage you can muster, you take in a deep breath and then knock on your brother’s door. You don’t know how long it takes Hoseok to answer. Realistically, you know it’s only mere moments - but that doesn’t stop it feeling like an excruciating eternity.

The moment Hoseok’s door swings open, you’re met with the sight of your brother. Smiling shyly at him, you awkwardly wave, “Hey Hobi,” you greet. However, Hoseok isn’t looking at you. No, he’s looking at the taller man stood next to you. Shuffling from foot to foot, your gaze flits back and forth from your brother to Minhyuk. Minhyuk for the most of it, looks a little lost and unsure of himself or what to say. Oppositely, your brother simply stares at Minhyuk, looking him up and down, his face a picture of passiveness and his usually warm gaze completely guarded.

“H-Hobi?” you choke out, clearing your throat as you try to get your brother’s attention. Hoseok blinks for a minute and then turns to you.

Momentarily, he regards you with his passive gaze before his lips quirk, and then suddenly, he’s beaming and pulling you into a hug. “____! I’ve missed you!” you brother practically screams, and despite the slight wince as he almost bursts your eardrums, you find yourself letting out a breath of air you hadn’t even known you’d been holding. The minute your brother envelops you in his arms, you feel yourself getting choked up - you’d missed his warmth. You’d desperately craved his affection when you’d broken up with Jungkook, but you had no idea what to say to him - or even how to approach him.

“Come on in. It’s a pretty quiet thing. There’s booze and snacks in the kitchen just help yourself to it, music’s mainly in the living room if you just wanna chill but if you need somewhere more quiet, the balcony or spare bedroom are available. ____ will tell you where to hang up your coats,” Hoseok says, smiling at Minhyuk. You bite your lip at Hoseok’s tone - it may not be obvious to others, but you know your brother like the back of your hand, and you can see the stiffness in his smile, and the chilled politeness in his tone. “Let’s catch up later on, yeah?” Hoseok says, turning back to you. Stiffly, you nod at him, already knowing he wants to talk about Jungkook.

Both you and Minhyuk enter Hoseok’s apartment and you can’t help the dismay that streaks through you. Hoseok wasn’t kidding when he said it’s a pretty quiet affair. About twenty people are milling about, the low thrumming bass of Hoseok’s music vibrating through the air. It’s loud enough to be heard throughout the apartment; not enough to cause the neighbours to complain, but more than enough to not really be able to have a decent conversation with someone.

Scattered about the crowd are a few people you recognise - Namjoon: Hoseok’s best friend from high school, and of course, Seokjin and Yoongi - his other best friends from college. Momentarily, you spot Jimin and you find yourself reeling at the familiar face. He’d been Hoseok’s friend from dance school when your brother was still in middle school. Your eyes continue scanning over the crowd before you find yourself stopping.

A rush of heat courses through your veins, the rushing of blood resounding through your eardrums when you spot Kim Taehyung - Hoseok and Jungkook’s other friend from swim team. But it’s not Taehyung that has you stopping. No, it’s who he’s speaking to.

Jungkook.

Knees buckling at the mere sight of him, your face crumples with the weight of your emotions. It’s only been nine months, and yet he looks so different from the last day you’d seen him. His hair is much longer now - so long that it falls into his eyes and you watch how he flicks the soft strands of hair out of his face. The motion of his hair practically mesmerises you and you can’t find it in yourself to look away from him. With his smooth caramel skin, soft features and gently sloping lips, he has your heart constricting between your ribcage.

Then you spot it. The black leather jacket. The same one you’d gotten him as a birthday gift four years ago. It’s still preserved beautifully, not a single piece out of place. The leather still shines like it’s brand new, and it still sits on his body as well as it did the first time you gifted it to him. Taehyung says something and Jungkook laughs in response, and the moment that he does, you let out an inaudible gasp. His head falls back, his features twisting into an expression of pure joy while his bunny-esque teeth are put on display. He looks happy - carefree - and you can’t help the sting of nostalgia that spikes through you. The music is loud, and you can barely hear anything. But somehow, his laugh resounds in your ear: ingrained in the memory of your eardrums as it plays like a record, over and over, while you watch him.

“You wanna get a drink?” Minhyuk asks. Instantly, your world comes crashing around you, and you turn to your current paramour. Blinking owlishly, you stare at him in confusion. He’s awfully close to you - a mere hair’s breadth away from you and instinctively, you find yourself backing away. Minhyuk looks at you oddly, and with a sheepish look, you nod to him. You’d gladly accept something to drink - you know you’ll need it if you wanted to survive the night.

An hour later, you find yourself standing over the Seoul city skyline. Leant up against the glass railing of Hoseok’s balcony, you simply stare at the sunset painted across Seoul. The large skyscraper buildings obscure most of it, the artificial bright lights dimming the dusky colours of twilight - but you don’t mind so much. Even obscured by the towering modern glass buildings, the dark shades of amaranth, copper and violet vividly paint the sky enough for you to take it all in.

“You okay out here?” comes a soft voice but you don’t need to turn around to see who it is. You could recognise your brother’s voice in a heartbeat.

Humming non-committally, “fine. I just... needed some space, I guess,” you mumble out with a sigh. If you’re being completely honest, you wanted space from Minhyuk. The minute he noticed your gaze on Jungkook, something in him changed - he’d become a tad overbearing, not to mention that he hasn’t left you alone all night. His sudden attachment wouldn’t have been a problem - if it weren’t the fact that you’d been maudlin about seeing Jungkook again. Thus, while he was busy entertaining a small crowd of Hoseok’s friends, you’d slipped out from under his nose and isolated yourself onto the balcony.

A loud chorus of laughs rolls across the quiet balcony and you let out another sigh. Hoseok leans against the railing next to you as he faces his apartment. “Minhyuk seems to be doing well,” comes Hoseok’s casual voice.

Another sigh, “please don’t,” you whisper. You already know where Hoseok’s going with this. Turning his back to his apartment, Hoseok joins you in basking under the quickly setting sun.

“What happened? You never told me, and Jungkook… well, Jungkook refuses to talk about it. To talk about you,” Hoseok sighs. Through your peripheral vision, you note the almost defeated look in Hoseok’s eyes. Heart clenching at his words, you grip your beer can tighter while staring dully into the distance. You don’t blame Jungkook for not talking about you - you haven’t spoken about him either. Sure, you think about him. Every. Single. Day. But thinking about him and speaking about him are two different things - the latter of which is far too painful.

When you don’t respond to his question, Hoseok simply sighs. “Okay fine, we don’t have to talk about that. But-” he begins.

Before he can continue, however, you turn and look at him, “Hobi, can we just not speak about this?” you ask quietly. Your brother looks at you pointedly, his eyes scrutinising you. With your slumped shoulders and the desperation in your eyes, Hoseok finds his eyes softening. Instantly, he wraps his arms around you, pressing your head to his chest. Automatically, you own arms wrap around him and you bask in your brother’s comforting embrace.

“You still love him,” Hoseok breathes out. There’s not a single hint of accusation in his tone, just plain understanding. More than that, it’s not a question; it’s a statement. One that has your fists curling tighter into his shirt, your shoulders tensing. You wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t say anything else. Rather, he just holds you, letting you seek as much solace as you need from his hold. Frozen in his hug, you breathe deeply as you try to hold yourself together.

Eventually, you find the strength to pull away. Hoseok looks at you with gentle eyes. “Are you happy, at least? With Minhyuk?” Hoseok asks. Opening your mouth, you move to reply, but find yourself stopping. Eyebrows furrowed, your face contorts marginally as you consider Hoseok’s question. Are you happy? Honestly? You have no idea. You haven’t felt any real happiness since you walked out on Jungkook - but you’d chalked it up to the fact that you were still getting over him.

Hesitancy evident in every fibre of your being, Hoseok looks at you pointedly. “Alright. You don’t have to reply because I already know the answer to that,” Hoseok sighs. He pauses for a moment, and you can see the uncertainty in his eyes. Yet, he continues anyway, “I know mom pushed you towards Minhyuk,” Hoseok begins, causing your eyes to widen. You open your mouth to reply, however, he cuts you off once again, “But I trust you to do the right thing. Not for anyone, but for yourself. You’re strong, ____, but you’re also smart. Smart enough to know what you want,” Hoseok finishes. Before you can reply to him, however, you hear the balcony doors sliding open.

The two of you turn around to the newcomer, your heart fluttering when you see Jungkook. “Oh. Sorry, I’ll leave,” Jungkook quickly says, already turning around. Abruptly, however, Hoseok walks up to Jungkook before clapping him on the back.

“Nah it’s okay. I was just heading inside. You can keep ____ company if you want,” Hoseok says brightly. Internally, you despair at your brother’s words. What the fuck was he thinking? Nonetheless, before either of you can say anything, Hoseok disappears back into his apartment, consequently leaving you and Jungkook alone.

Jungkook turns to you nervously, and you can practically feel the hesitancy exuding off of him in thick waves. Pulling your lower lip between your teeth, you send him an awkward smile before gesturing for him to join you. Jungkook looks at you in a mix of worry and trepidation, but ultimately, takes Hoseok’s space beside you. The two of you stand in silence, facing the Seoul city skyline as you stare at nothing. Frazzled by his presence, you internally grasp for something to say, anything to break the thick awkward tension that surrounds the two of you.

Then, all of a sudden: “How have you been?”, “So, what’s up?”, you and Jungkook ask at the same time. You stare at each other in surprise for a couple of moments. Then, all of a sudden, you both burst out laughing.

“God, this is so weird,” Jungkook says, running a hand through his hair. Biting your lip, you nod in agreement before turning back to look at the cityscape.

With the tension broken, “so, how have you been?” you find yourself asking. From the corner of your eye, you notice Jungkook shrug listlessly.

“I’ve been… okay, I guess. How about you?”

“Fine. Alright. I guess,” you reply, mirroring his previous sentiment. They’re simple niceties - and you both know there’s a hint of deception in both your words - but neither of you says anything about it. Once again, the two of you fall into silence. Though, this time, the atmosphere isn’t thick with floundering awkwardness. Rather, it’s thick with confusion and uncertainty. Where do you go from here? What do you even say to your ex-boyfriend - one you still have feelings for?

Deciding to take a chance, “how’s work? I saw that your company released a new game,” you finally say. Jungkook’s head snaps towards you, his eyebrow rising at your question.

“You keep up to date with my company?” he asks. The incredulity in his voice surprises you and you look at him pointedly.

“Of course I do. That company means a big deal to you,” you reply easily. Despite the situation, Jungkook finds himself chuckling, even as his heart constraints at the thought of you checking up on him - even if it’s from afar.

“Yeah. It’s doing really well. Made me a lot of money. How about you? Dohyun from your department still being an ass because you’re the one who got promoted or?” Jungkook questions casually, causing you to laugh.

“Ah, man. Gotta love Dohyun. No, yeah. He’s still being an ass - but at least he doesn’t openly question my authority anymore,” you reply with an easy smile. Then, “actually, I have you to thank for that,” you softly say.

Jungkook looks at you in surprise, “me?”

Nodding, “yeah. I took your advice and threatened to fire him if he ever publicly undermined me again. That shut him up pretty quickly,” you chuckle. Jungkook snorts, the two of you laughing.

“Good! He deserves it. I know he has a problem working under a woman, but man, you deserved that promotion. You were far better qualified than him,” Jungkook compliments. Ducking shyly, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ears before smiling gently at him.

“Thanks. It means a lot,” you mumble under your breath, making Jungkook shake his head.

“No. ____, I’m serious. No one deserved it more than you. You worked so hard for it. There were days I was even worried about the stress you were under because you’d forget to eat, or you wouldn’t sleep. But I guess it was worth it in the end, because you got the promotion,” Jungkook responds. Then, he pauses, a teasing smile playing at the corners of his lips, “even if it meant there were days you’d ignore me,” Jungkook sighs dramatically. That causes you to snort, and before you can stop yourself, you playfully smack his arm.

“Hey! I gave you lots of attention. Or did you forget that time when I skipped work just so we could play hooky and go snowboarding?” you ask. Jungkook bites his lips, a tinkling giggle escaping his lips at the memory.

“Oh, that was good. You were terrible, and you fell so much I was worried you’d break something,” Jungkook reminisces, a soft sigh following his words.

Giggling to yourself, “Yeah, well we can’t all just pick up a sport and instinctively be good at them,” you snort in response.

“You’re right. Really, it’s a curse being perfect at everything,” Jungkook nods sagely in agreement. Jaw dropping, you look at him in amazement before the two of you burst out laughing.

Suddenly, a new voice breaks “What’s going on here?”

Turning around, you freeze at the sight of Minhyuk. Alternating between looking at you and Jungkook, Minhyuk’s face is a picture of passiveness, his lips set in a thin, grim line. At the sight of Minhyuk, you sense Jungkook deflate, the easy atmosphere once again thickening with tension.

“Minhyuk… this is-” you begin, ready to introduce the two. However, Minhyuk snorts.

“Yes. This is Jungkook, your ex-boyfriend. I know. Which begs the question, why are you alone out here with your ex while I’m inside?” Minhyuk asks. You reel at the accusatory tone in his voice as you double-take.

“Excuse me? We’re just out here speaking,” you exclaim and once again, Minhyuk snorts.

“It looked a little more than that,” he points out. Jaw dropping in bewilderment, you scoff at him, your eyes narrowing into thin slits.

“Uh, I think I should leave the two of you alone,” Jungkook says quietly as he begins making his way towards the balcony door.

Seeing him walk away breaks your heart, and you want to tell him to stay. Nevertheless, you know you have no right to. Not now anyway, when you have bigger problems at hand. Bigger problems namely being Minhyuk. “What’s your problem?” you ask, directing your attention to your boyfriend.

“My problem is that despite the fact that you’re going to be marrying me, you’re out here with the ex that you were seeing for five years. How do you think that makes me look?” Minhyuk argues back. At Minhyuk’s words, Jungkook finds his blood freezing as he’s brought to an abrupt halt - just before he can escape the balcony. You, yourself, are at a loss of something to say.

“We’ve barely been seeing each other for two months! Why are you bringing that up now?” you cry in astonishment. Really, where had the come from?

“But isn’t that why our mother’s set us up? Because we’re both looking to get married? Isn’t that where this is supposed to be going? Yet, here you are. With your ex-boyfriend. Who you’ve paid more attention to than me this entire night, by the way,” Minhyuk points out. Spluttering at his words, your cheeks heat as you know you’ve been caught. The hairs on your arms stand erect, and immediately, you know that Jungkook is staring at you - but you refuse to look at him. You don’t want to see the expression on his face right now.

Instead, you decide to keep your attention directly on Minhyuk, “yes, this is where it’s supposed to be going, but-” you reply, only for Minhyuk to cut you off once again.

“But nothing. I like you, a lot. And I know we’ve only known each other two months, but I can see us having a life together. Is that not what you want? Isn’t that the reason we’re together in the first place? Do you not want to marry me? Say you’ll marry me and I’ll drop this right now,” Minhyuk finally says, his previous anger and insecurity at seeing you and Jungkook together dissipating. He levels you with his sincere gaze, the unanswered ultimatum heavy in the air.

Unable to help yourself any longer, you momentarily shift your gaze to Jungkook. It’s brief - barely a second - but it’s all you need. The utter look of despair is clearly evident on his face, a mixture of heartbreak and anguish painted so very clearly across his features. It reminds you of the day you’d broken up with him; reminds you of how he’d looked when you’d walked out on him.

Flashback - nine months ago

One lazy Sunday, you find yourself in the apartment you share with your boyfriend. The two of you are sprawled on the couch, barely dressed: Jungkook with only his boxers and socks, and you in his large t-shirt and panties. You’d both considered getting dressed, but had decided against it - especially since neither of you had any plans to leave the house. Hence, you find yourself pressed against Jungkook, your back comfortably flush against his strong chest, your head easily finding the perfect resting spot in the crook where his collarbone meets his neck.

Absentmindedly, Jungkook plays with the hem of your underwear, fiddling with elasticated lace as you scroll through Netflix. The film titles pass in a blur as you look for something to watch. Catching the attention of one title, you can't help but fixate on it for a bit. "Kook?" you call out to your boyfriend softly. You angle your head to look up at him while shifting your head onto his shoulder, so you can see him clearly. Jungkook hums non-committally as he glances at you from the corner of his eyes.

"What's up, sweetheart? Wait- if this is just to ask me if we can watch Zootropolis again, you know my answer is always yes," Jungkook says, his eyes twinkling in excitement. A light giggle escapes your lips but you shake your head.

"No. I just- we've been together five years now, yes?" you ask, turning your head back to stare at the TV. Jungkook's eyebrows furrow slightly, and he moves his head so he can better look at you.

"Yes? What about it?"

"Well-" you begin. Briefly you pause, worrying your lower lip, "do you think we'll get married?" you breathe out. Jungkook stills, the hand that had been mindlessly playing with the lace material of your underwear coming to a halt.

"What?" he asks, his chest rumbling under you.

"Well, have you thought about us getting married? Like, we've been together a while now, but I don't think we've ever really spoken about it," you sigh out. Ideally, you wanted to marry Jungkook - because, after five years, you're sure he's the one for you.

"Honestly?" Jungkook asks. Anxiousness pools in the pits of your stomach as you hear the slight trepidation in his voice. It's barely there - but you know Jungkook well enough to spot the tell-tale sign of his worriment.

"Honestly," you reiterate his statement, letting him know you want nothing but the truth.

Jungkook sighs, "honestly, I've never really thought about it," he breathes out. Immediately, you jerk, sitting up as you twist to look at him. Shifting so you're in a more comfortable position, you sit on his stomach, your thighs straddling his waist. Instinctively, Jungkook's hands fall onto your thighs. You look at him in a mixture of shock and disbelief, Jungkook returning his own expectant gaze.

"You've never thought about us getting married?" you sputter out, completely baffled by his words. How has he not thought about it? You've been together five years now. That's an awfully long time - surely, he's thought about it at some point. Not to mention, you're both twenty-seven now, almost thirty. So how has he not thought about it? You know you have. In fact, you dream about the day you walk down the aisle, Jungkook on the other side. Hell, you dream about a life with him; a family - because you know he's all you want.

"Sweetheart-" Jungkook starts, and you look pointedly at him, "listen- it's nothing to do with you. It's just, we're still young. I do love you, you know that, but I just never really thought about it," he continues. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you cock your head in question.

"Never?" you enquire. Jungkook simply shrugging.

"Not really," comes his simple reply.

“How?” you question, looking at him in confusion. Distinctly, you remember having light conversations with Jungkook. Conversations where you’d joke about being married, conversations about your wedding or your future together.

“What do you mean how?” Jungkook asks dumbly, causing you to frown.

“I mean- I know we’ve joked about it before. I’ve mentioned wanting to get married before, I know I have,” you point out.

“Yeah… but I thought you were joking and other than that, I’ve never seriously thought about it,” Jungkook says casually. You suck in a sharp breath at his words. He hadn’t ever seriously considered it? Fear settles in your stomach at his words. You’d always just assumed you and Jungkook would eventually get married - but he hadn’t ever seriously thought about it?

"Well... do you want to get married?" you ask plainly. Jungkook smirks at you, the corners of his lips twisting into a teasing, lop-sided smile.

"Are you asking?" he jokes. However, you're in no mood to play games. This is important to you - because your boyfriend of five years just admitted that he hadn't ever considered a future with the two of you together.

"Jungkook, I'm being serious," you say - your voice is soft, yet firm. Sensing the seriousness to your tone, the smile on Jungkook's face falls and he sits up. His movement displaces you from his stomach, and you find yourself moving to sit on the couch while looking at him expressionlessly.

"____, I don't know. As I said, I've never really thought about it," Jungkook reiterates.

"Well think about it now! Do you want to get married or no?" you ask, anxiousness bubbling in your veins. This conversation certainly hasn't gone the way you had expected it to. When you'd first asked Jungkook, it had just been an off-handed question, because really, why wouldn't he have thought about getting married. Now? You're not so sure.

"I- I don't know," Jungkook mutters. Face falling in despair, you get up off of the couch and walk into your bedroom. What did he mean he didn't know? Five years. You've been together five years, and he still doesn't know? Without a second thought, Jungkook follows you into your bedroom, watching in confusion as you begin getting dressed.

"Sweetheart? Are you mad at me?" he asks, causing you to snort derisively.

"Are you really asking me that right now?" you snap in response. Jungkook reels back at the irritation in your voice.

"Why? Because I said I don't know if I want to get married? Why is that a problem? I still love you- you know that," your boyfriend argues.

"The problem isn't that you love me Jungkook. It's that you just admitted you haven't thought about our future together," you cry back. Sensing your upset, Jungkook quickly walks up to you. He places his hands on your arms, gently rubbing up and down as he cooes gently at you.

"Baby, that's not what I meant. It's just, we're still young you know? And it's not like we have to get married to each other to prove anything. I love you, and you love me, isn't that enough?" Jungkook asks softly, trying his best to placate you. Tears forming in your eyes, you shake your head and push his hands away.

"But I want to get married Jungkook. But you don't even know if you want to get married," you reply back, your bottom lip quivering. You take in a deep breath in an attempt to hold yourself together.

"But I could... maybe," Jungkook replies. Though, you both hear the clear uncertainty in his voice. His words, paired with his tone, only has your heart breaking.

"Do you? It doesn't have to be now, but do you see us getting married? A simple yes or no. That's all I'm asking for," you breathe out.

Through tear-filled eyes, you watch your boyfriend contemplate your question. One minute passes. Then two. But he's no closer to giving you your answer. With every second that passes, your anguish grows into grief-stricken distress. Multiple times, Jungkook opens and closes his mouth, and each time, hope blooms in your chest, only to die when he closes his mouth. Long, excruciating moments pass, and you all but abandon hope, when finally he says something.

"I don't know," Jungkook replies. The very moment his words ring in your ears, that small inkling of hope within your chest in crushes. A sob escapes your lips and you feel your knees buckle. Distress painted on Jungkook's face, he reaches out to comfort you, but you back away from him, causing your boyfriend to flinch.

"Will you ever know?" you whisper hopelessly.

"I don't know," comes Jungkook's answer once again.

"Then I don't know if I can do this," you whisper back. Jungkook's head snaps up to you, his eyes wide as he looks at you in disbelief.

"What? What do you mean?" he chokes out, barely able to get the words out. Throat constricting, you swallow thickly as you choke back a sob.

"I don't know if I can still do this. Jungkook, I want to get married. I want to marry you. I dream about walking down the aisle to you, I dream about children - our children. I dream about a life with you. But you-" you stop as your voice cracks with emotion. Taking a deep breath, you pull yourself together once again, "but you don't know if you even want to get married and that... that just tells me you haven't thought about our future together," you finally manage to say, your voice strained.

"We're still young. We have so much time to think about that," Jungkook argues, causing you to shake your head.

"We're twenty-seven Jungkook. We've been together for five years. That's a long time, so why haven't you ever considered us getting married? Not even moments ago you admitted that you've never thought about it. How do you think that makes me feel?" you cry.

"I don't know! It wasn't on my mind. I think about you but I- I just don't know if I want to get married. Why is that a big deal?" Jungkook asks, even as anguish colours his veins at the sight of your heartbreak.

"It's a big deal to me! It's a big deal because like I said, that's what I want!" you practically yell. Taking another deep breath, you sniffle, "I don't think I can do this," you repeat once again. Again, your voice cracks, but Jungkook despairs at the resolution in it.

"What are you saying?" he chokes out, not wanting to believe it. You can't mean it. You can't be saying what he thinks you're saying.

"I'm saying- I'm saying we should break up," you finally say. You practically have to force the words out of your mouth - because, despite everything, every fibre of your being is still in love with Jungkook - still wants to be with Jungkook. But this isn't something you think you can compromise on.

"No," Jungkook blurts out. "N-no. Please, no," he practically begs. Once again he steps up to you, and once again, you step away from him - desperately needing the distance between you. "W-why? Why can't we wait until I know? Please, why can't we wait until I'm ready?" Jungkook pleads. Sucking in a deep breath, you shake your head as you look away. You want to. You desperately want to take his word for it, want to fall into his arms and forget this conversation. But you just can't.

"I c-can't," you express, "because what if we continue for another two, or three or five years, only for you to tell me you still don't want to get married? I don't want to start all over again in my thirties, Jungkook. I don't want to be in love with your a few more years, only for you to eventually decide you still don't want to get married," you reply softly.

"But we don't know if that'll happen!" Jungkook tries arguing and this time, you turn to him. Jungkook freezes at your face, the resolute sadness in your eyes breaking his heart. His heart constricts in his chest as he sees unwavering stubbornness, mixed with heartache and sorrow, in your eyes.

"Exactly Jungkook. We don't know. If you don't know now, after five years of being together, I don't know if you'll know in another few years. And I can't take that chance," you finally utter.

"____, please don't do this. I love you," Jungkook sobs brokenly. Unable to look him in the eyes anymore - unable to stand the utter devastation written on his face - you look away.

"I'm sorry," you whisper softly.

And then, you walk away.

By the time you’re drawn out of your reverie, Jungkook is long gone. In his stead, stands Minhyuk, who looks at you expectantly. ‘Say you’ll marry me.’ Minhyuk’s voice once again rings through your head and you can’t help but feel queasy at the statement. You had broken up with Jungkook because you wanted to get married - and you do. But, is Minhyuk who you want to marry? As harsh as it is, marrying Minhyuk feels like… you’re settling - and that doesn’t sit well with you. But what do you do now? What if this was your only chance? You’re twenty-seven now and you hadn’t lied to Jungkook when you said you didn’t want to wait another five years only for things to fall apart if he decided he still didn’t want to get married.

But this doesn’t feel right.

You and Minhyuk stare at each other, Minhyuk patiently waiting for your answer. Except, you have no idea what you want to say. Your skin flushes with heat and you feel panic set into your bones while your stomach flips. Blood rushes through your ears, the sound drowning out everything else as you simply stare at Minhyuk. Though, you’re not really looking at him. No, because even now, with Minhyuk standing in front of you and Jungkook long gone, there’s only one person on your mind.

The same person who’s been on your mind the entire night.

Abruptly, Hoseok’s words ring through your head. ‘You’re strong - but you’re also smart. Smart enough to know what you want.’ Your brother’s voice plays over and over in your head - like a broken vinyl - until it’s all you can hear. Then, a spark of epiphany courses through your head, and the dawning of revelation washes over you.

You do know what you want - more than anything.

And you know what you have to do now.

It's almost two in the morning when Jungkook finds himself outside of your apartment. He doesn't know how long he's sat there, back against the wall and knees up to his chest as he stares at your flat door. After he'd left Hoseok's apartment, he found his feet walking to a bar, and after about an hour of drinking, he'd walked home. Well, he'd meant to walk home. But, somehow, in his tipsy-fogged mind, he'd automatically walked to your building and then up to your flat. A while after that, he'd just sat outside your door, contemplating whether he should knock or not. The largest part of him desperately wanted to knock - and multiple times, fueled by the courage of the alcohol - he almost had. However, each time, the smaller part of him would stop himself, unable to actually follow through. What if you'd said yes to Minhyuk? What if you didn't want to see him? What if you're with Minhyuk? Jungkook doesn't know what he'd do if he knocks, only to find Minhyuk on the other side of the door.

Head repeatedly banging against the wall behind him, Jungkook stares at the gold plated numbers of your door. With every second that passes, the alcohol in his system slowly fades away and Jungkook finds himself sobering. But still, he doesn't leave. He can't bring himself to get up and walk away. It's late enough that sleep should begin fogging his mind, but again, not knowing whether you said yes or no to Minhyuk would eat away at him - and he knows he'd be restless and unable to sleep until he finds out. Yet, he just cannot bring himself to knock. So, instead, he just sits outside your apartment. Waiting for something. Anything.

For you.

Another hour passes and you still don't come. Jungkook lets out a shuddering breath, his head falling into his hands. Mentally, he draws up a pros and cons list of knocking - and yet, each time, he scraps them all. Even with all the cons: you could be engaged to Minhyuk, you could be with Minhyuk, you could be moving on with Minhyuk; Jungkook can't help but consider the pros: you could have said no, you could be alone, you could be waiting for him. It's that last one that he dreads. There's a small chance you couldbe waiting for him and that has hope flaring in his chest. But in this situation, hope is the most crushing thing in existence - because it's only a small chance - and his hope could be crushed the minute you answer the door.

A part of him believes you had to have said to yes - you just had to have - because that's what you wanted, wasn't it? You wanted to get married. So, what reason would you have to say no? But that small, niggling voice in Jungkook head won't stop speaking - won't stop telling him that he's a reason you would have said no. Nevertheless, Jungkook knows that voice comes from his hope - and as he's mentioned - hope is the worst thing he has right now.

"You can't keep doing this, Jungkook. It's been nine months. You should move on- like she is," Jungkook mutters to himself out loud. He has no doubt that if anyone sees him, they'd think he was some sort of crazy person, but Jungkook also doesn't care. Over and over, he repeats the sentences to himself and eventually, he gets up, ready to leave.

But then he stops.

Turning back to your door, he takes in a shuddering breath, and before he can stop himself - or even rethink his spontaneous decision - he finds himself knocking. Because he desperately needs to know if he's lost you once and for all. Then, he waits again.

And still waits.

Time moves excruciatingly slowly - the seconds agonisingly passing away. Momentarily, Jungkook considers knocking again - maybe you're asleep, maybe you didn't hear him. But the adrenaline-induced courage has long since faded after he knocked, and once again he finds himself turning away.

However, then, he hears it: the clinking of a chain.

The door creaks open slowly, Jungkook sucking in a sharp breath as he spots you. You're dressed in a large hoodie - and hope flares in his chest as he recognises it. It's hishoodie. He thought he'd misplaced it a while ago - but no, apparently it was just with you. But why? Why hadn't you returned it to him?

As soon as the door is wide open, you stare in disbelief at the sight in front of you. Rubbing your blood-shot eyes, your mouth drops slightly as you realise you're not imagining it. Jungkook is standing in front of you. Why is Jungkook standing in front of you?

"J-Jungkook?" you stutter out, bewilderment heavy in your voice.

"I'm sorry," Jungkook blurts out. Taken aback by his sudden apology, your eyebrow furrows.

"W-What? Why are you sorry?" you ask, unsure of what's happening. You'd just been crying in bed - desperately wishing for Jungkook - so, when you'd opened your door only to see him, you'd thought you were dreaming. And now? Well, now you're just confused. What does he have to be sorry about?

"I made a mistake. You were right- I didn't- I never thought about our future together. I never considered getting married, or whether we'd have a family together and it's because I was comfortable. I grew comfortable in our relationship and I took it for granted. I took you for granted," Jungkook breathes out. His words fall so quickly from his lips, he practically rambles, and you really have to strain to understand his words. "After five years together, I just got so used to us. I thought I'd always have you, and so, marriage or a family didn't even cross my mind - but it should have. I should have thought about our future together. I'm sorry that I didn't, and I'm sorry that I thought about it too late," Jungkook continues. Once again, he pauses, taking a deep breath as he thinks about what to say next. But if he's being honest, he doesn't really know what else to say.

Shoulders deflating, Jungkook runs a weary hand through his hair, and suddenly, he looks more harried than you've seen him in a long time. "I'm just- I'm sorry I didn't think about it back then. I'm just sorry," Jungkook finishes lamely. There's more on the tip of his tongue: I miss you, I want you, I love you; but he can't bring himself to say them. Not when you could be happy with Minhyuk. He can't do that to you - he'd broken your heart that day - when he'd openly admitted he'd never thought about a future with you - and now, you have a chance with someone else. And he can't take that away from you, even if it breaks his heart to let you go. Left reeling by his words, they play over and over in your mind, and it takes all your brainpower to reallyunderstand them - but in your stunned daze, you don't say anything - and Jungkook doesn't know what to make of it.

So, instead, "I guess, that's what I wanted to say. I- I hope you're happy with Minhyuk," he chokes out. Sluggishly, you realise that Jungkook is walking away - and that's all it takes to restart your brain.

"W-what if I'm not happy? What would you do if I wasn't happy?" you rasp, your voice straining. Jungkook freezes at your words, his blood running cold. Then, he whips around so quickly, you fear he'd get whiplash. However, Jungkook doesn't care. Rather, his eyes swiftly rake over your face, searching for something, anything to confirm what'd he'd just heard. He finds it in your eyes; in the way they silently beg him to continue, plead with him to say everything on his mind.

Helpless under your imploring gaze, Jungkook finds his tongue unravelling as he lays his feelings at your feet. "I'd ask for a second chance. A chance to make you happy and give you what you want," Jungkook breathes out. Your eyes widen in the slightest at his proclamation.

Is he saying what you think he is?

Incredulity painted as clear as day on your face and sliver of hope evident in your eyes, Jungkook's face softens slightly. He wasn't lying - when Minhyuk had proposed the ultimatum, Jungkook had felt his heartbreak - and when he'd sat in the bar, all he could think about was you. More importantly, all he could think about was the missed opportunity. He imagined what you'd look like on your wedding day. How happy would you be? Would you look as radiantly beautiful as he imaged you to be? Would you smile in that carefree, captivating way that you did? But then, he grew maudlin - because he realised that if you did, it wouldn't be for him - and that broke his heart. It broke his heart to imagine you marrying someone that wasn't him, smiling for someone who wasn't him, creating a family with someone that wasn't him.

Nothing but sincerity in his voice, Jungkook continues, "I'd ask for you to take me back and to marry you. Because that's what I want - as long as it's with you," Jungkook finishes.

Throat clogged up with the heavy weight of your emotions, you swallow thickly, "then ask," you choke out. Your words are simple - and practically inaudible - but in the stillness of the empty corridor, and the quiet of the night, Jungkook hears it as clear as day.

"But- But what about Minhyuk?" Jungkook asks, unsure about whether he should or not. Hope flares in his chest at your words - but he doesn't want to believe them. Not yet, at least.

"Ask anyway," you simply say.

"Will you-" Jungkook begins, but the instant he opens his mouth, you're cutting him off.

"Yes," you reply - not even waiting for him to finish. It doesn't matter what he said. It doesn't matter if the words to follow are 'give me a second chance' or 'marry me' because all that matters is that he's back. All that matters is that he's willing to think about your future together - and right now, that's enough for you.

"You don't even know what I'm going to say-mpf," Jungkook begins, only to be stopped short when you pull him in for a kiss.

The instant his lips touch yours, you feel your entire body become electrified. Your veins are set afire with love, Jungkook's soft lips pressed against yours in a sweet kiss. Instinctively, Jungkook's arms wrap around your waist, his hands pulling your body flush against his as he feels you for the first time in months. You taste the same as you always have - temptingly sweet - and your body against his feels exquisite: your curves and contours fitting perfectly against his body. Sinking into this kiss, and consequently Jungkook, you sigh against his lips while you let your hands wander across his broad shoulder, before carding them into his hair.

Brief moments later, Jungkook breaks off your kiss; his forehead falling to rest against yours as he stares deeply into your eyes. His hands move to cradle your face, his thumb brushing your cheek tenderly as he lazily peppers soft kisses against your lips. Despite the softness of the moment, Jungkook can't stop wondering about Minhyuk - a sentiment he expresses to you in concern.

"I couldn't do it. I couldn't say yes," you reply, your eyes holding nothing but the truth. Jungkook's eyebrows knit together, and you find yourself giggling at the adorable expression. After a light peck against his lips, you move to rest your head against his chest, your eyes slipping shut as you feel his steady heartbeat under your ear. "I couldn't do it, because even then, you were all I could think about. I thought I wanted to get married, and I did - I do - but I realised, I didn't want to marry just anyone. I wanted to marry you," you confess. Jungkook's heart soars in his chest and helpless under your spell, he finds himself pulling you in for another kiss.

However, this time, it's different. This time, your kiss isn't slow, or soft. No, it's needier - Jungkook’s pouring out his entire heart into your kiss as he bruises his lips against you. Gasping against his lips, your fists clench around Jungkook’s leather jacket - using the material to pull him closer into you. You pull away from Jungkook’s lips, breathing heavily against his lips as you stare up at him through the thick of your eyelashes.

“Do you want to come in?” you breathily ask. Jungkook pauses for a moment.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to-” he begins refuting. However, you’re already pressing kisses against his jaw - lightly nipping the sensitive spot just above his Adam’s apple.

“I’m sure. I’ve missed you,” you rasp out, your voice coming out breathier than you anticipated. Jungkook’s eyes dilate at your words, and before you know what’s happening, he’s leading you into your apartment.

The both of you barely make it into your apartment, before Jungkook is slamming the door shut and pushing you up against the hard wood. Caging you between his arms, Jungkook’s lips fall upon yours again, his lips moving in a frenzied fashion this time. Instinctively, your arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him closer into you. Jungkook lets out a soft growl against your lips before pulling away. Peppering kisses along your jaw, he trails down the column of your throat before nuzzling his face into the juncture of your shoulder.

“God- I’ve missed you,” Jungkook whispers as he breathes in your calming scent. Own hands threading into his hair, you lazily play with the locks at the nape of his neck.

“I missed you too. A lot,” you moan out as Jungkook begins to suckle bruises onto the tender flesh of your throat.

“Is that why you’re wearing my hoodie?” Jungkook asks, curiosity winning out on him. Not that you don’t look good in it - in fact, seeing you dressed in his clothing is one of Jungkook’s favourite things.

“Maybe,” you reply coyly, “what are you going to do about it?” you continue. Jungkook sucks in a sharp breath at the teasing lilt to your voice and immediately, drops to his knees. You jerk at the sudden movement, your eyes widening marginally at the sight of Jungkook on his knees.

“If this was any other time, I’d teach you a lesson. But right now, I’ve missed you too much, and you look good enough to eat,” Jungkook groans out as he runs his nose along the exposed flesh of your inner thigh. Your breath hitches at his words, Jungkook’s large hands slowly wrapping around your thighs before he parts your legs. Tenderly, his hands run up the back of your thighs, and gripping the flesh of your ass, he pulls your hips further into him.

Running his nose against the cotton of your panties, Jungkook takes in a deep breath before groaning as the heady scent of your arousal runs through his nose. He pushes his hoodie further up your hips, his lips gently tracing his way up the length of your thigh. Positioned just over your hip, Jungkook places a tender kiss above where your bone is. Then, he bites down on the waistband of your panties before slowly sliding it down your legs. When he gets to the crooks of your thighs, he lets go of it, letting the material drop to the floor.

You step out of your underwear and spread your legs - making more room for Jungkook. Gripping one of your thighs, he pulls it to rest over his shoulder, exposing your pussy to his gaze. Dark, lust-filled eyes rove over your folds, Jungkook shuddering as the scent of your arousal deepens. Your sex is slightly dewy, glistening in the low lighting of your living room. Biting his lip, Jungkook edges closer to your folds before tentatively licking a line: all the way from your core to your clit.

“Oh fuck,” you groan out, your head lolling back while one of your hands shoots out to tangle into his thick hair. Hearing your low groan, Jungkook smirks against your pussy before repeating the action. Spikes of pleasure run up and down your spine, your eyelids fluttering as you lose yourself into the pleasure he brings upon your body.

Moving one hand, Jungkook presses two fingers against the petals of your sex before parting his digits in a ‘V’ shape and consequently your folds. With your pussy exposed, Jungkook once again licks a thick line from your dripping, honeyed entrance, all the way to your engorged bud. He licks harder this time, his tongue lapping in a broad line as he gathers your heady essence onto his tongue. Your arousal bathes his tastebuds, and with his nose pressed against the hood of your clit - all he can taste, all he can breathe is you.

Soft lips wrap around your clit, Jungkook pulling the sensitive bud into his mouth before lightly suckling on it. His ministrations cause you to gasp - the sound quickly morphing into a heavy moan when his nips your throbbing clit. Tangling your fingers further into his hair, you slowly undulate your hips, pushing them further into Jungkook as you tug on his hair, trying to get him to move fast.

Sensing the urgency in your movements, Jungkook rakes his teeth over your clit in warning once again. Then, breaking away with a pop, “Be patient, darling,” Jungkook breathes out. The lusty fog of your desire rolls thickly into your head, clouding your mind and setting your flesh aflame with want and through your wanton need, you barely hear Jungkook’s words. Instead, the feel of Jungkook’s warm breath wafting over your wet folds has you shuddering in pleasure.

“Kook,” you whine needily, desperation heavy in the high pitch of your voice.

With his face buried between your thighs, you can’t see his face. But you don’t have to. You can feel the smirk on his lips. Not that you really care - because he’s currently swirling his tongue around your clit tantalisingly and subsequently driving you to the brink of insanity. Lightly, he moves the two fingers that have you spread open. You shudder at the featherlight touch, feeling him softly ghost his fingertips over the outline of your folds before circling your entrance. His touch has your core clenching, your pussy walls fluttering around his fingertips.

“Fuck- I forgot how fucking sensitive your pussy is,” Jungkook moans against your clit. His words are slightly muffled, and the vibration of his voice shoots straight from your clit to the pits of your belly. Loins heating with pleasure, you feel your stomach twist and knot as Jungkook laps kittenish licks against your clit. Teasingly, Jungkook continues circling his fingertip against your entrance, feeling the way strings of your sticky wetness drip out of you before they cling to his digit.

Drawing away from your clit, Jungkook slowly pulls his finger away; his throat drying as he watches the thin, filmy strings of your arousal drip from your pussy and onto his finger. The thick rivulets stretch as he pulls away - and the moment one of them snaps - Jungkook is unable to stop himself from pressing his head back between your thighs. Tongue plunging into your core, his swirls his wet appendage around your cunt, groaning as thick streams of arousal drip onto his tongue.

“Oh fuck- Kook,” you mewl, your head falling back and hitting the door with a light thud. The pain barely registers in your mind, your eyes rolling into the back of your skull as your pussy flutters around his tongue. Helpless against your needy whine, Jungkook pushes two fingers into your depths, your body jerking at the sudden intrusion as you tug at his hair reflexively. Twisting his fingers into you, Jungkook pumps his digits in and out, relishing in the feel of your silken, pulsating walls around his appendages as he continues eating you out - almost ravenously.

Gripping his locks tightly, you gyrate harder into his mouth. Waves of pleasure flit over your skin, your blood boiling with ecstasy as you feel the warmth in your belly begin to heat up. When Jungkook spreads your entrance using his fingers, his tongue plunging deeper into you, you let out a cry of pleasure. God, you’d forgotten just howgood Jungkook’s mouth was. Mouth and throat running dry, you swallow thickly before panting out his name over and over again. The once dull warmth begins burning your loins; searing, white-hot pleasure running up and down your flesh, your skin prickling with goosebumps as you feel your orgasm approaching.

“Please-” you groan out, the guttural sound intermingling with the wet, sloppy sounds of Jungkook eating you out. Thighs quivering against his ears, Jungkook pushes his fingers deeper into you. Expertly, he finds the sweet spot inside you, his fingers crooking at the knuckle as he strokes the spongy spot. Reflexively, your hand tugs his hair harshly while your knees buckle under the euphoria of your approaching orgasm.

“Are you cumming, baby? You wanna cum on my tongue?” Jungkook taunts, a teasing lilt to his voice. Swallowing thickly, it’s all you can do to simply rasp out his name. Knowing he has you on the verge of ecstasy, Jungkook doubles his efforts - his fingers pistoning inside you quicker as he wraps his wet lips around your clit.

“God, your pussy tastes so fucking good. I missed you - missed the way your pretty little pussy feels around my tongue,” Jungkook grunts out. Another whine of pleasure escapes your lips, your hips jolting into his face when the pads of his finger stroke your g-spot.

“Cumming-” you gasp out, your voice cracking under the pleasure.

“Then cum baby- cum all over my tongue. I wanna taste you- wanna drink you up,” Jungkook urges. The filthiness of his words, paired with the way he harshly sucks your clit, instantly has you cumming.

A loud mewl escaping your lip, you whine out his name. Your eyes roll back into your skull, your visions filled with white spots as your orgasm ricochets through you. Feeling you come undone above him, Jungkook rips his fingers out of you, his hands gripping your flesh and fingers digging into your skin as he holds your violently trembling thighs. The scent of your arousal thickens deeply, and Jungkook watches with dilated eyes as thick ropes of cum drip out of your cunt and down your thighs.

Placing his lips against your entrance, Jungkook slurps at your cum, swallowing it thickly and relishing in your taste. You whine out his name, your knees buckling from the power of your orgasm - and if it weren’t for Jungkook’s strong grip, you’re sure you’d drop to the floor. Gasping for air, you slowly come down from the high of your orgasm, Jungkook patiently waiting for you to descend down to reality.

Tenderly, your boyfriend places affectionate kisses along the length of your thigh, softly cooing at you while he whispers sweet nothings against your flesh. A soft smile tugs at your lips and you untangle your fingers from their vice-like grip on his locks. Instead, you softly play with the strands, marvelling at their silk-like texture. Jungkook always had beautiful hair, but with how long it is currently, you can reallyadmire it.

“Kook- want you,” you mew. Jungkook chuckles at the soft neediness in your voice.

“Come here, sweetheart,” Jungkook says before he gathers you in his arms. Gently, he brings you to the floor with him. Still swimming in the haziness of your orgasm, you feel Jungkook swiftly divest himself off his clothing, until he’s left naked. Once done, Jungkook gathers you into his arms once again. He shifts you so your thighs are straddling his, your body propped against his strong chest as his back rests against the door to your apartment.

Unable to help yourself, you rest your head against his shoulder, your hands indolently running over his skin as you finally feel him under your touch. You trace every muscle of his upper body - from the corded flesh of his biceps, to the taut skin of his abdomen; and then towards his broad, defined shoulders. Jungkook’s arms wrap around your waist, his hands running up the hem of his hoodie and flitting up your skin before he divests you off the article of clothing - leaving you both naked.

Shuddering at the feel of the night’s crisp air against your skin, you snuggle closer into Jungkook’s warmth, letting his presence wash over you. “I missed you,” you mumble against his skin. Jungkook’s face softens and he nods, his head dropping so he can press a kiss to your shoulder. His long hair tickles your skin and you relish in the featherlight touch.

Not wanting to wait any longer - and more than desperate to feel him inside of you - you flex your thighs, picking yourself up. One hand feels out for Jungkook’s cock, and easily finding the shaft, you grip the base before pressing it against your entrance. Feeling the bulbous head push against your entrance, you let out a soft whine before slowly descending down onto him. Slowly, he spreads out your walls, his thick girth stretching you out for the first time in months. It’s been a while since you’ve had Jungkook and the sheer size of him has a dull pain stinging at your pussy walls - but you don’t mind so much. No, in fact, you cherish it - because you’d sorely missed how transcendent he’d felt stretching out your pussy to its brim.

“Oh fuck- God, you’re so fucking tight. You feel so good,” Jungkook groans out, his cock twitching with every inch he sinks into you. Jungkook’s arms wrap around you, holding your naked chest flush against his as you continue your descent onto his cock. When he finally bottoms out, his balls resting just under your ass, you let out a little whimper, your fingers clawing into his shoulder.

“You good, baby?” Jungkook asks, his lips skimming the outline of your collarbone.

“Yeah- you feel- so good,” you gasp out. Jungkook gives you a couple of moments to adjust to the feel of him - and then, he’s gripping your hips before lifting them up for you. You cry out in pleasure as you feel his cock retreat out of you, only for Jungkook to thrust upwards, plunging the entire length of his shaft.

The two of you begin moving in tandem with each other: Jungkook helping you move on top of him while simultaneously impaling his cock into you. With every one of his movements, you feel pleasure run through your veins. Every time he plunges the entirety of his cock inside of you, you let out short gasps, your toes curling in pleasure. Moving slowly, you take the time to simply feel each other - the ardent fire of your lust and love burning bright in the pits of both your bellies as you sink into unadulterated pleasure.

Your slow, sensual pace continues for a little while longer - but you can slowly feel Jungkook’s desperation increasing with each thrust. His hands begin wandering over your hips and around to hold your ass. Fingers digging into the soft flesh, he grips your ass tightly before bouncing you harder ontop of him. Need fills his every movement - Jungkook’s thrusts becoming rougher. You bounce on top of him, your entire body shaking as Jungkook thrusts harder and harder into you. Changing the angle of his hips, Jungkook plunges his cock against your sweet spot, the head of his cock brushing it with every impalement of his hips.

“I’m cumming, baby,” Jungkook warns. Not that he really needs to, you can feel his cock throb erratically inside you, twitching every now and then as your walls clench rhythmically around his shaft - massaging his entire length.

“Cum, baby. Cum in me. Wanna feel you deep in me,” you say softly, your hands softly massaging his shoulders. Jungkook lets out a little groan, pulling your hips harder down onto him as he tries to push his cock as deep as he can into you.

“Cum with me. Play with yourself. Wanna feel you cum around my cock,” Jungkook urgers, and you find yourself growing wetter at the authority present in his voice. Unable to deny him anything, you twist one arm between your body and begin expertly playing with your clit. The additional pleasure has you crying out in ecstasy. All of a sudden, you feel heat rush through your veins, your lips parting in a silent scream as you cum for a second time.

Feeling your walls clamp around him tightly, paired with the gushing of your cum around his cock, Jungkook let’s out a little groan. “Oh fuck,” he moans. Then with two stilted thrusts, he plunges his cock as deep as he can into you before cumming with a soft roar. His cock twitches inside your walls before he shoots rope after rope of hot cum inside you. You groan at the feel of his warmth, your toes curling in pleasure as the base of your spine tingles.

Jungkook holds you to him tightly, clutching your body to his as you both gasp and pant for air. The haziness of your euphoric high slowly abates, until you’re both left clinging to each other. Eventually, the white spots in your vision clear and you slowly pull away from him. You take in the sight of Jungkook, completely spent and sweat-soaked locks clinging to his forehead. Hearing you giggle, Jungkook opens one eye to peek at you.

“Stop laughing at me,” he pouts. Once again, you giggle at him, and then let yourself fall against him. Exhaustion weighs down your muscles and you find yourself snuggling into Jungkook’s chest, sleep already replacing the lust-filled fog that clouds your head.

“I can’t help it if you’re so cute,” you mumble sleepily. Jungkook bites his lips, lightly snorting through his nose. However, he simply doesn’t have the energy to argue with you. Instead, he sits quietly while attempting to catch his breath.

Eventually, he decides he’s had enough of a rest - but when he turns to you, you’re already deeply asleep, a small smile on your lips. Tenderly, Jungkook tuts, but there’s no real ire in it. Gathering you in his arms, he picks you up, wincing when his muscles protest the movement. Ignoring the pain, he carries you into your bedroom before gently depositing under the cover.

Fatigue quickly overcomes him, and it’s all Jungkook can do to not collapse beside you. Holding off, however, he manages to sluggishly pull himself under the cover. Once under the thick sheets, Jungkook shifts closer to you before he pulls you into his arms. You’re both sticky - your skin covered in a light sheen of perspiration - and it’s slightly uncomfortable, but Jungkook doesn’t care.

He’d be damned if he spent one more night without you in his arms.

a/n: owo i hope you enjoyed it! please don’t forget to tell me what you thought 🥺

⇥ Masterlist

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sunkisseddaffodils · 3 years

Text

reunion- pt 2 (final)

Pairing: sherlock x fem!reader

Request: 'hi! can i pls request a sherlock x fem!reader fic in which reader is kinda john's childhood bestfriend, but they were separated when reader with her parents moved somewhere (to united states, for instance). so now when she is in britain again, she sort of struggles with finding a not very fancy place to stay. fortunately, she meets our johnny boi and he immediately proposes for her to stay in 221c, baker-street. so reader moves there, meets sherly and they sorta starting to fall in luv with each other'

Summary: Sherlock accidentally drags up some old unwanted memories for the reader

Genre: reader insert, angst

A/n: this is the final part of the above request. Sorry, I didn't exactly follow the request but I mostly tried to. Thanks to anon for requesting though! Enjoy!

Read pt 1 here.

The following day, after a restless night’s sleep, Y/N sat nervously in Mrs’s Hudson cosy kitchenette. Mrs Hudson had switched on the kettle and was preparing to make both of them a cup of tea. From what John had told her, she was perfectly lovely but she couldn’t help but be anxious. It was in her nature; she worried about everything. She made sure to bring papers to prove to her that she had a monthly income. But what if that wasn’t enough and Mrs Hudson had already decided that she wasn’t good enough to stay in her upstairs flat? The sound of china cups being placed on the table brought her back from the depths of her mind.

‘What brings you to London? John tells me you moved all the way from the States?’

John was right, Mrs Hudson was delightful. Y/N felt more relaxed at the sound of her comforting voice.

‘I’m starting my training next week to be a dentist in Harley Street ’

Mrs Hudson’s eyes genuinely glistened with interest.

‘Oh? John told me you already completed dental school in Seattle? Aren’t you already qualified?’

‘Yeah in the States. To work here, I have to do an extra year before I’m qualified. I don’t mind though, I wanted a fresh start in the UK.’

A door closing behind them interrupted their conversation. Both Y/N and Mrs H turned to where the noise came from but couldn’t see who or what made it. The latter called out.

‘Sherlock? John? Is that you?’

With no response, they returned to their conversation.

‘Y/N, you seem like a lovely young woman with a bright future. Of course, you can stay in the upstairs flat!’

She smiled widely, uttering a thousand ‘thank yous’. Y/N grabbed her important documents and handed them to Mrs Hudson.

‘Thank you. I’ll take a look at these later.’

Tomorrow, Mrs Hudson gave Y/N a tour of 221c. She fell speechless as she looked around. It was the same layout as Sherlock’s but had recently been renovated to have a more modern look. The apartment was already furnished so all she had to do was move her belonging's in from storage. She couldn’t believe that she was able to afford this apartment! Especially, as it was in central London. Promptly, she strolled over to where her new landlady was waiting by the front door.

‘So I get all this for this price? That’s insanely cheap for London.’

Y/N commented while pointing to the tenancy agreement Mrs Hudson was holding.

Simply, she just chuckled.

‘I do special rates for Sherlock and John. If you’re a friend of John’s then you’re a friend of mine. I’ll do the same for you.’

She continued.

'I met Sherlock in Florida when my husband was sentenced to death. He was able to help out so I owed him a favour. ’

Her face was completely serious yet it sounded so implausible. How could a lovely little lady like Mrs Hudson have such an impossible past like that? Adding to that, Y/N wondered that Sherlock really must be a genius if he can stop someone from being executed.

‘Wait, are you saying that Sherlock stopped your husband from being executed?’

‘Oh no, he ensured it.’

And with that bombshell of a statement, Mrs Hudson disappeared downstairs leaving Y/N utterly astonished in her new apartment. She made a note to herself to remind her to ask John about Mrs Hudson’s past. There was so much she wanted to know about her life.

A few days passed and the time finally arrived for Y/N to move into 221c. She was standing outside the cafe with Mrs Hudson, waiting for the moving company to arrive along with her possessions. She glanced at her watch, anxiously. The moving people were already five minutes late. Meanwhile, Sherlock and John were upstairs having carried three boxes between them that Y/N had brought herself. John was busying himself, tidying up the flat, waiting for a text from Y/N so he and Sherlock could help her move in and set up the place. He had told Sherlock to make himself useful but looking over his way, he hadn’t. Sherlock was staring intensely at the three boxes they had placed on the dining table by the windows. John marched over there to tell him off.

‘Sherlock! What are you doing? If you’re not going to make yourself useful up here, then can you at least go downstairs to check what’s taking the mover’s so long?’

Sherlock completely disregarded everything he just said.

‘Look at these three boxes, John. What do they tell you?’

He just groaned.

‘Nothing, they’re just boxes.’

‘Fine, if you’re not going to play ball then I will just tell you.Y/N has made sure she took these boxes here herself. Why? That suggests they’re private and she doesn’t want strangers, i.e the movers, to touch them. The first two boxes are labelled: electronics and toiletries. Makes sense then for why she would want to move them herself: one’s valuable and the others personal.’

He pointed towards the last cardboard box.

‘But why hasn’t she labelled this one? I’m sure I’m right to assume that she would have labelled every single box from what I’ve seen from these two. So what’s in this box that separates it from the rest?’

John stepped away from the dining table and started fluffing some pillows on the couch.

‘Sherlock, I really couldn’t care less. There’s nothing weird going on. She’s not part of some underground crime syndicate. Just leave it alone. You can’t know everything.’

However, the crinkling of tape being peeled off from the box told John that Sherlock, was in fact, not going to leave it alone.

John raced back over to the table and seized the box from Sherlock. Soon, a tug of war for the box began between them.

‘You are not going through Y/N’s private things!’

He yanked the box harder.

‘But John, I have to know what’s in there.’

John glared at him, pulling the box back towards him.

‘Tough luck. Once again let me spell this out: you cannot go through other people’s belongings. It’s rude.’

Sherlock’s grip remained firm, however.

‘Don’t you want to know more about why she’s moved back here? The answer could be in this box. It’s strange that she just packed up and left her life back in Seattle. She obviously doesn’t have any family here. Otherwise, why would she come to you for help? And there’s also the fact I heard her tell Mrs Hudson that she has to do extra training to be a qualified dentist in the UK. Why go to all that effort when she’s already qualified back in the US? Aren’t you in the least bit curious?’

John once again dragged the box back to him.

‘Oh so now you’re not only going through her stuff, you’re also eavesdropping on her?’

Sherlock was offended even though there was a hint of truth to what John was saying.

‘It wasn’t eavesdropping! I just happened to overhear her.’

What Sherlock was saying did make John curious, but still, Y/N deserved her privacy. It was up to her if she wanted to them the real reason she moved back to the UK. John was about to tell Sherlock this when the door burst open.

‘Hey, guys! The movers are here now if you wanna come down.’

Y/N’s voice staggered when she saw the scene before her.

In a moment of alarm, both Sherlock and John had dropped the box. Its content spilt out onto the floor. An off-white ornate picture frame smashed onto the hard wooden floor, glass spraying everywhere. The picture in the frame was of Y/N and a man in front of the Seattle Great Wheel. Y/N stood in surprise as the said man was knelt down holding a rose gold diamond-encrusted ring. The picture frame was custom engraved and it read ‘For my love.’

Oh.

It all made sense now to Sherlock.

However, there was no time to think more about the picture. Sherlock and John stood like a deer in headlights

‘It was Sherlock!’

John pointed accusingly towards Sherlock.

Y/N didn’t say anything, simply walked over to where the box had fallen, glass crunching under converse trainers. She knelt down to pick up the photograph. She remained there for a moment, an expression of profound anguish on her face.

John tried to help her up, but she refused. She practically ran out of the flat, trying to conceal her pain. John didn’t even have time to tell her that she had cut her knees on the glass from the floor. He grabbed a broom from the kitchen and started cleaning up the mess on the floor. He looked at Sherlock who was still in the same place. He had a look of regret on his face.

‘Sherlock there’s no point making that face now! You’re cleaning this mess up too. We’re going to make it up to her by making this apartment look really nice before she comes back.’

As he shifted the box back onto the table, he thought of his own way to make it up to Y/N.

Y/N was falling asleep at her desk, she was now four hours into writing her essay on dental hygiene. She placed her head in her hands, thinking she would just have a quick nap. Her phone ringing ended that plan though. She saw that it was Sherlock and hesitated. She still hadn’t forgiven him for trying to go through her things and bringing back unpleasant memories. It had been a week into ignoring him and giving him the cold shoulder. She let it ring out. Sherlock still didn’t get the hint and texted her.

‘Y/N meet me here. I wanna make it up to you. S.H’

That text was accompanied by a GPS location.

Y/N couldn’t think of any possible reason why Sherlock had asked to meet her here. Her uber ride had stopped outside of a manor house just on the outskirts of London. She quickly checked with the driver to make sure she was at the right place. To her bewilderment, he answered yes. Hesitantly, she strolled up to the door. She didn’t even have to knock when Sherlock opened the door. He motioned for her to follow him.

‘Sherlock, what the actual fuck? Do you live here?’

Sherlock led her through a ton of rooms. Y/N swear she could have counted there were at least five formal living rooms.

‘Nope.’

He opened a set of French doors and led her out into the back garden of the estate. Not that you could call it a garden. It was massive. In the distance, she saw stables as they walked through a formal botanical garden. Sherlock was more like running though, but Y/N didn’t know what was so urgent.

‘So if you don’t live here. Then who does?’

An undesirable thought entered her mind.

‘Don’t tell me you broke in here?’

Sherlock turned around just outside of the exit to the formal gardens, jangling keys in front of her face, a childish grin on his face.

‘It’s not breaking in if you have a set of keys.’

They had finally reached their final destination. Y/N saw that someone had set up a bonfire in the middle of a field. A can of petrol and a box lay adjacent to it. That box seemed really familiar. Sherlock picked it up and brought it over. It was hers!

‘Sherlock, you’re going through my things again. You know what, I’m done here!’

She began jogging back towards the house. Sherlock grabbed her arm.

‘Wait! Y/N. Let me explain.’

She gazed back at him intensely, waiting for an explanation.

He placed the box down.

‘I know you haven’t told me about what happened. But unfortunately, I am good at deducing things. Those things in that box came from a bad past relationship. I’m pretty sure I can guess what happened.’

He started to stammer, not sure of how to word what he wanted to say next.

Y/N wasn’t sure where he was going with this but could see he was trying.

‘John will be the first to let you know that I’m no expert on love or on relationships. But I can see you haven’t moved on. I thought it might help if you chucked all of the old stuff from the relationship on that bonfire and set it alight.’

She looked down, knowing that Sherlock was right. He had guessed everything perfectly. He had read her like a book.

‘You’re right. But I took running away from your problems to the extremest.’

She sat down on the grass, wrapping her arms around her knees. Sherlock shortly joined her.

‘He was my world. Or I thought he was until one night I returned home to see him shagging my best friend on the sofa.’

There was a moment of silence before she continued.

‘I just felt so foolish. I had to get away from Seattle. The place was full of memories of my time with him. I couldn’t stand it any longer.’

Sherlock got up and picked up the box.

‘And that’s why you should burn this stuff. He doesn’t deserve to have this much hold on you when he never cared about you in the slightest. We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. But please just think about it.’

Y/N stood up with determination. Sherlock was right. She had to burn all of this stuff to finally move on. Together they placed the contents of the box around the bonfire.

Y/N stood back as Sherlock poured the can of petrol over the bonfire. He asked.

‘One more thing. Do you have that picture with you?’

She grabbed it out of her bag as an answer and showed it to him.

‘I thought you would', he stated.

She placed the picture in the centre of the bonfire.

They walked back a safer distance from it and Sherlock got a box of matches from his pocket. He lit one up and handed it to Y/N. He could see that she was having trouble actually lighting the bonfire. He reached out and held her hand to comfort her. Y/N greatly appreciated that. She took the final step and with her other hand, threw the match into the bonfire.

The bonfire went up in ablaze. It was oddly beautiful watching the embers rise up into the sky. Standing there in hand in hand with Sherlock, she felt the weight that had been on her shoulders for months slowly lift off. The whole experience was cathartic.

Out of the blue, they heard the distant sound of alarms ringing from back at the house. Y/N looked to Sherlock for answers. He just told her to:

‘RUN!’

They sprinted, holding onto each other, seemingly heading towards a gate at the end of a stone wall surrounding the estate.

‘Sherlock! What’s going on?’

Sherlock tried his best to explain as they were running.

‘Technically I did break into this house. But it’s my brother's so it should be fine. There should be a cab waiting just outside this gate.’

‘Oh my god!’, she exclaimed worrying about the consequences to come for their actions.

When they had reached the road outside the gate, they stopped to catch their breath. Then they looked at each other and burst into laughter.

She hadn’t laughed that like in months. And it was all thanks to Sherlock.

#sherlock x you #sherlock x y/n #sherlock x reader #sherlock fanfic #sherlock fic #sherlock holmes #sherlock imagine #sherlock fanfiction #sherlock imagines #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock au #sherlock x john #bbc sherlock #sherlock bbc #sherlock #john watson #john watson x reader #sherlock and john

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lunaekalenda · 3 years

Note

Hi! Can I request a Jean x Reader fic where reader is Marco's beloved little sister and basically follows the "Im in love with my brother's best friend" trope? And Reader doesn't do anything about it because she thinks Jean only sees her as a little sister (bc that's what he always says) but Jean is madly in love with her too? And hw never says anything until she does something really reckless. (Any Au is okay :) )

omg yes yes!! of course! i hope you like it! 💖 sorry for the waiting, anon!

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

❁ jean x reader!

❁ modern au!

❁ all are college students (age +18), mention of alcohol, food.

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

"Y/N, I'm leaving!" Marco was at the door, putting on his shoes. You nod while you look at your big brother, a smile on his mouth when he sees your eyes from behind the kitchen's door, eating some doritos. "Oh, Jean is coming for dinner." You almost choke. You cough and Marco looks at you. "Y/n?"

"The dorito was spicy, sorry." Jean Kirstein is coming to have dinner at your home. Jean is Marco's best friend since the two of them wore diapers. Marco laughs.

“I told you they were spicy. Well, I'll go now, I’m late! Don’t worry about dinner, I’ll cook once we arrive home!”

You don’t like cooking, but you like even less to be alone with Jean while Marco is occupied. Marco never wants you or him to help, which means you’ll be alone with Jean when he cooks. You remembered your room was a mess and your makeup is in the main bathroom. You run to go and order things a bit, just in case Jean needs to use the bathroom and sees all your makeup around. You also entered your room and got changed, using a pretty outfit based in pastel pink clothes.

Jean is just a couple years older than you, but he thinks about you as his little sister, or so does he say. After all, he and Marco are like brothers, so that makes you her "fake lil-sis." You're tired of that sentence. Of that "How's my sis today?". You want him to look at you like a girl, someone to fall in love with. Not someone to apply a fake blood rule. Marco trains football until 8 p.m, so you have exactly an hour to get all clean. Even when you and Marco are really tidy people, it’s impossible to keep all the things in their places. You’re sitting on your bed, moving your legs with nervousness, when you hear the boys entering home.

“We’re back!” Marco yells. You prepare yourself for acting as nothing happens while you go down stairs. Your brother is taking out his shoes and giving his friend house slippers.

“Hi, welcome.” Your voice comes out more shy than you’ve expected. Jean looks up, his hazel eyes looking directly at yours. You feel your legs weak when he smiles.

“Hi, y/n!” he says. For your luck, you hear another voice.

“Is y/n here?” Connie’s voice is listened behind Marco.

“She lives here, idiot.” Jean comes in and you look how his tall body is now positioned near yours. Connie smiles and runs toward you, his arm around your shoulders.

“Jean, sometimes people go and spend nights out with friends, specially if you’re coming.” The boy clicks his tongue. “Long time no see, bestie.” You laugh. It’s true that Connie is one of your best friends, he’s in your math group, and his outgoing personality made him became one of your best friends really quick, and also Marco’s.

"You're having dinner here?" Connie shakes his head.

"Nah. Today I cook on the shared flat, I don't want to leave Sasha without dinner or she'll eat my chocolate reserves. I just came to steal a couple beers to Marco." Marco points the fridge with his index. Connie laughs. "Bro, I know where your fridge is, but thanks anyway."

They have a trust in each other that you envy, is so natural for them to visit the others' houses, and they're comfortable with it. As you're comfortable with them hanging around your house, seeing Marco so happy. Jean crosses his arms, his arm touching yours for a second. Your braincells disconnect from your body and you enter in a kinda of Jean repetitive thoughts. Connie sits on your sofa, opening a beer.

"Well, I'll go and make some pasta. You guys can play there." Connie takes the remotes, giving one to Jean and another to you.

"Marco, you should play with them." you say. "I'll cook."

"Don't worry! I beat their asses every day, now it's your turn to do the same." he says, entering the kitchen. You sigh, taking the remote. They put a shooter. You sit in the middle of your sofa, giving space to Jean to sit near Connie.

"Fuck, I'm so bad at this..." You say. Even knowing is a cooperative game against zombies, you're always the first one to die. Jean laughs quietly, before sitting next to you. His leg collides with yours in a jokingly way.

"I'll protect you." he says. You know he's talking about the game, but you can't help and start daydreaming about him and you, how his long fingers will take your hand and pull you to his chest, whispering those words on...

"Oi, Jean, you're not that good to protect her! Zombies will kill you two unless I protect you both!"

"Connie you suck at this game." Jean defends himself.

"I'm sure Y/N prefers me to protect her. Or do you prefer Jean?"

He's dead man. He knows perfectly what do you feel. He knows you like Jean a lot, and he has been trying to make you confess. Jean looks at you, his sweet gaze fixed on your eyes. Yo look down.

"I think I can handle it by myself." Connie laughs and Jean roasts him. The game starts. You watch how Jean's fingers change quickly between all the buttons: pressing, touching, moving. You look again to the TV, blushed. You shouldn't be thinking this things. Concentrate in the game, Y/N. Concentrate. The game goes strangly well, the three of you comunicate your plans easily to the others, and it all goes well. Jean rests his back against the sofa, making his t-shirt go out a bit and his sport shorts tighten around his worked body. You can't take your eyes out. You blush again and you feel how your remote vibrates, indicating you're being eat by a zombie. Connie sighs and Jean looks at the screen.

"Fuck, Y/N, sorry." he says. You clear your throat and shake your head.

"I was distracted, sorry." Connie smiles.

"What distracted you, bestie?" he asks. You're going to kill him. You don't answer, getting up and asking what do they want to drink. Jean asks for a glass of water and Connie asks if you could bring something to eat, even when he has to leave in ten minutes. You give Jean his glass and Connie some chips.

"Thank you, bestie." he says. You look at him, faking a smile.

"Eat and be silent for a while, bestie." he nods and eats. Even knowing you're joking, he doesn't say anything for a bit. He's concentrated in the game, as Jean is. You go to the kitchen and ask Marco if he needs soemthing. He shakes his head, preparing the sauce for the spaghetti.

"Weren't you playing?" he asks. You nod.

"Yep. I died." he smiles. Marco's smile is the most bright and beautiful smile you ever seen. You wanted to have a smile like his, but you only have his same eyes and freckles. He looks at you.

"Go, go. Don't leave my guests alone!" you nod and went back again to the living room. The game is finished, with Connie and Jean's stadistics in the screen.

"Look, bunny!" he says "I was the better one to protect you!". It's true that Jean's stadistics are better than Connie's.

"Oi, Kirstein, you're just a bit better... It was luck." he says. He looks the hour on his glass and gets up. "Well, I'll go home now. It was a pleasure." he says. You accompany him to the door. "I wish you luck, bestie. I'm sure you need it." You punch playfully Connie's shoulder before hugging him. "And, mark my words: He's just waiting." Then, he leaves, without giving you the opportunity to ask what the heck he meant by that. You head back to the living room, where Jean is sitting on the sofa. His sweater is on a near chair. It's so big and looks so comfortable...

"Do you want to play more?" you ask. Jean looks at you while you sit, giving him space. He smiles.

"Why not! Do you want me to teach you how to play this one?" he takes a open world game. You know he's really good at them. Marco, Jean and Eren usually play online every saturday, and they want you to join their team, but you haven't played that much. You nod. "Okay, let me..." He moves near to you. He takes the controller and gives one to you, keeping him the other. He enters the game. "Well, choose a character, bunny."

He has been calling you bunny since he discovered how much you like bunnies. They're so fluffy and beautiful, you like them. You have one, called "Wink", because he has a genetic problem that makes him wink one of his beautiful eyes. He was about to be sacrificed because of that, but you saved him in the last moment. He's now a happy bunny with a curious talent. You doesn't dislike the pet name Jean gave you years ago, but it makes him sound like he's calling you a really affectionate nickname.

You go back to reality and choose a cute little girl using a big hat. He chooses a near character and clicks play. "Okay. This is the main city, so now you have to climb here to unlock the map..." he explains you for a while, and you follow his character. Sometimes, when he moves his leg, his knee collides with yours. Now, you're totally stuck in a level.

"Jean, how do I...?" he looks at your character, stuck between two walls.

"Can I?" he puts his hands near your controller and, when you're about to give it to him, he puts his big hands on top of yours, covering them. His fingers pressed lightly against yours. You look at him, but he has his eyes fixed on the screen, as he moves your fingers with his. “You have to move like this, silly...” he says. But you can’t concentrate in anything more than his scent near you, the warmth his body irradiates and his fingers pressing yours sweetly. You feel how your heart speeds up it's beat.

"Y/N!" Marco yells. "Can you take the garbage to the container, please?" he asks. You yell yes in response, getting away from Jean's body. You get up fast. He does the same, suddenly kinda uncomfortable.

"I'll accompany you, bunny." he says. You nod, taking the garbage bag. Jean follows you silently. The container is not far from your house, just a couple crosswalks. You take the bag and start walking. It's dark now, and the street is really quiet. Just your steps and Jean's can be heard. He follows you keeping a distance, his long legs making short steps. "The night is beautiful today." he says. You nod in response. You look at both sides before crossing the street.

"Maybe a little bit cold." you say. He quickens the pace to be near to you. The sweater he took from the chair is around his waist, so he takes it and puts it on your shoulders.

"Use it. I'll take the bag." he says. You murmur a little "thanks" while putting his sweater on. It smells like him. You try to take the bag from his hands back, but he moves. "Jean, give me back the trash." He smiles playfully.

"Take it from me, bunny." he jokes. His long arms move the bag, avoiding you to take it. He's playing near the road, so if you go around him and surprise him from the road, you can take it. That's why you go down to the road, without looking and without noticing a car that is coming fast towards you. The car lights were really low, and that didn't make you realize it was coming. But now, now that Jean yelled your name and the car beeped, you realize you're about to be hitted by it.

You can't move, your body is totally paralyzed. You knew the car was trying to stop, but the high velocity it got is impossible to stop. You thought you'll feel a hard hit, but you felt a soft thing around you.

Jean's body is around yours when you find you two on the street. It takes you a couple seconds to realize what happened.

"Jean, Jean, Jean." you move him. Got he hit by the car? Did he put his body between yours and the car? He looks at you, his eyes searching your gaze.

"Are you okay?" he asks. You nod while he gets up, helping you to fo the same.

"And you? Did it hit you?" He shakes his head.

"I just pulled you against me, that's why we were on the floor." He explains. "None of us got hit. But you have to be more careful, what could have happened to you if I wasn't here? You coul... Y/N?" he asks. Tears are running down your tears. He takes you in a hug, his big and warm body protecting yours.

"Sorry." You say. You feel how he caresses you hair.

"You scared me. I thought the car was going to hit you. Be more careful." You nod. You try to make a joke, to make things more comfortable.

"You're really a good fake brother."

"That's what you think of me?" he asks. Isn't that what he wants you to think? Isn't he the one calling you sis? His hands explore a bit your body, with long caresses from your neck to your low back. His long fingers running slow on your skin.

"That's what you think of me" you answer. He clicks his tongue.

"You never showed any interest in me. I gave up and treated you like a sister. That's what you wanted, no?" You wanted to look at him, but he doesn't let you, pressing your head soflty against his chest.

"I was in love with you, Jean. But you came home and tell my brother how good Mikasa looked and «How are you, little sister?». What I was supossed to do? Compete with an older girl? Make you realize I'm not your little sister?"

He doesn't say nothing for a while. He breathes deeply, before talking.

"Sorry, I was nervous. I thought the car was going to hit you. I thought I was about to see you getting hit." he says. His breath is a little bit irregular now. Taking some valor, you leave a kiss on his chest, where is heart is ubicated. He sighs. "I also liked you. But it didn't feel good, you were my bestie's little sister. I didn't want to ruin my friendship or worse, your relation with your brother. I thought it was better for me to stay away. That's why I treated you like that. I was trying to convince myself. It didn't work." he lets out a little laugh.

"I felt like you were serious about it. That's why I never said anything. But I do like you, Kirstein."

"You're a lucky girl." he says. He keeps your head buried on his chest. "Because I also like you, Bott." he says. He leaves a soft kiss on your hair and, shyly, accompanies you to throw the garbage. There's silence. Once you're walking back, in the same silence, he breaks it. "Should we date, then?" he asks. "We're both adults and we like each other, doesn't it work like that?" he asks. You nod.

"But, Marco?" he says then. Oh, you forgot about him. Marco, your brother, his best friend.

"Oh, true..."

"Well, Marco is home and we aren't." he says. "He isn't going to miss us a couple minutes, right?" his voice getting low as his lips got closer to yours. "You don't know how many times I wanted to kiss those lips or caress this body." he murmurs. You tangle your hands around his neck.

"Why you didn't, then?" you ask. He lets out a little laugh.

"Now I have all the time of the world to kiss you." you feel his soft lips against yours. His hands around your waist and yours tangled on his hair. It feels so good.

"I hope so."

m e a n w h i le

"do you think he confessed?" Connie asks. Marco keeps taking out plates while talking to Connie on the phone.

"They have been out for twenty minutes. I'm a 99% sure he did, and he's corrupting my little sister behind a house." he says.

"He doesn't want to break your sister's relation with you." Connie says. Marco sighs.

"My sister is in love with him. If both like each other, it's none lf my business."

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kopikokun · 3 years

Text

Beach Day Blues༄ l.dh

↳ Out on a day trip to the beach with your boyfriend and his friends, you’re anticipating a fun time filled with sunny memories and sand filled swimsuits. What you’re not expecting is the cold shoulder from your usually happy-go-lucky boyfriend, but you’re going to get to the root of this issue, even if it’ll kill you.

pairing: lee donghyuck x reader ft. yuta, mark & jaehyun

content: fluff, beach day, reverse comfort fic, jealousy fic, very mildly suggestive ending

word count: 2053 words

Request 36: Haechan + “I need a hug.” (42) + “You’re cute when you’re angry.” (47) + “You own my heart.” (59) + Jealousy

← BACK TO NAVI.

— 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝.

Perhaps you’re being delusional. Perhaps you’re just dehydrated or, maybe, you rationalise, the scalding rays of the evening Sun have burned not only your skin but your brain cells too (if there were any to begin with). Maybe all of this is just in your head and you’re overthinking it.

“Hey,” someone hisses, “is it just me or is Donghyuck giving you the cold shoulder?”

At the question, or rather observation, your head swivels an almost sharp 90 degrees to stare Yuta straight in the eyes. “So, it wasn’t just me thinking that!”

Yuta chuckles. “Yeah, he definitely seems off…” He peers at Donghyuck discreetly from beneath his sunglasses before turning back towards you. “Did you guys get into a fight or something?”

“A fight? No way!” You pause, suddenly doubting yourself. “At least, I don’t think so…”

Though you’re confident in your verdict of innocence regarding a fight, Yuta’s question prompts you to briefly run through the events of the day. To preface things, you, your boyfriend, Donghyuck, and a few of your friends—namely, Yuta, Jaehyun and Mark—had decided around half a month ago to clear up one day in advance for a ‘beach day’ this week. The idea had sprung after someone had brought up how nice and sunny the weather had been lately, and everyone just unanimously came to the conclusion that sunny weather equals beach day.

You had begun packing for this trip a few days ahead to the surprise of everyone including yourself, which is a testament to your overwhelming excitement, because you rarely--if ever--pack that early for just a single day trip. But who can blame you? This would be your first official trip with Donghyuck. No, you should rephrase that. This would be your first official trip with Donghyuck as your boyfriend. You’ve been on plenty of trips before when you two were just ‘friends’, but now--and maybe this is the romanticist in you which you’ve successfully kept stored away up until recently speaking--it just feels different. You’re sure someone out there can relate, because you’ve never been one to obsess over something as feeble as a label, yet this trip has had your stomach in knots for ages.

The packing process had gone smoothly--neither you nor Donghyuck had forgotten anything--and so had the car ride over. As far as you can recall, your day at the beach so far has gone without a hitch too. You’d had a little picnic, dipped in the oddly warm sea, played some beach volleyball (badly) and gotten some icecream afterward. No fights, no issues, no nothing.

Maybe, you think, he found out I was involved in that little switch up with the sea water. You don’t entertain the idea for too long though immediately casting it away, because you know Donghyuck would never be the type to get so upset over a prank.

So, why the attitude?

You gaze at Donghyuck’s back, hoping that this mystery might just unravel itself if you stare long enough.

“Huh…” Yuta’s voice tears you from your zealous staring competition with Donghyuck’s shoulders. “Then I wonder what’s up…”

You sigh. You know you should confront him and have a mature conversation about what’s bothering him, but that’s so much easier said than done. Maybe this is God’s way of punishing you for ridiculing all those scenes in cheesy teen flicks where the couple would experience a major fall-out because of poor communication. During said scenes, you’d be pulling your hair out, internally screaming at the couple to just freaking talk already, yet now that you’ve been presented this obstacle for you to overcome yourself, you’re erring on the side of caution.

Come on, you reason, I’ve been friends with Donghyuck for over half-a-decade and we’ve gotten into our fair share of arguments during those five years. What’s so different about now?

Yeah, you’re right. You find yourself agreeing with your own thoughts, physically nodding along like you’re speaking to someone. Yuta raises a concerned eyebrow at you. Nothing’s different compared to then. You’re doing it again. He’s just my boyfriend, and that’s just a label. Stop. Obsessing. Over. Labels.

Admittedly, it’s a bit embarrassing having to psyche yourself up to do this, but that’s not what’s important right now. What’s important is that little pep-talk, no matter how laughable it sounded, has gotten you to stand and saunter to Donghyuck with utmost confidence. In hindsight, you should’ve said something to Yuta beforehand instead of just springing from your seat and marching away. The thought hadn’t crossed your mind though, as it was obviously preoccupied with something arguably much more important than giving him the luxury of context.

You decide not to be too transparent about your feelings at first as you take a seat beside Donghyuck on the sand, leaning your head on his shoulder, hoping that all of this was really just your imagination getting the best of you. You silently plead that he’ll perhaps treat you like he normally would, giving you a little peck on the cheek or at least wrapping his arm around your waist. Unfortunately, your hopes are smothered just as quickly as they arise because Donghyuck doesn’t even bat an eye at you, continuing to chat with Jaehyun and flat-out ignoring your presence. Still optimistic for a reaction, you leave a chaste kiss to his bare shoulder, just to let him know that “Hey, I’m here!”, but to no avail. Infuriatingly, he doesn’t even flinch. All he does is drone on to Jaehyun about something you couldn’t care less about.

You huff. Audibly. A last ditch effort in vying for Donghyuck’s attention. It goes just as well as your previous attempts. You cross your arms, glaring at the side of Donghyuck’s stubborn little head, hoping to bore a deep hole through his brain. Maybe then he’ll finally take notice of you. Sensing the undeniable tensity in the air, Jaehyun clears his throat awkwardly, offering Donghyuck some lame excuse about needing to take a piss, before shuffling away. Well, at least someone knows how to take a hint.

With Jaehyun’s departure, you’re left alone with Donghyuck. Usually, he’d be leaping to drown you in affection the second you two had privacy--or even if you two didn’t, to be frank--but all he does now is fiddle with the strings of his swimming shorts absentmindedly.

“What’s wrong, Hyuck?” you finally ask, desperate to break this frustratingly suffocating silence. “Is something wrong?”

Finally, after what seems like centuries, Donghyuck acknowledges your existence, though the look he gives you is not a pleasant one. In fact, it’s one of agitation. His tongue prods at his inner cheek before he says, tone bitter, “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

Evidently taken aback, you crease your eyebrows at him. “I… Did I do something wrong, babe?”

“Oh, come on,” he scoffs, scornful amusement overtaking his normally amiable features. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know. You can just come out and say it.”

“Say what, Hyuck?”

“How much more you’re into Mark than into me,” Donghyuck says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You can’t help but laugh, simply bewildered as to how on Earth he came to this conclusion. “I’m into who now?”

“Mark,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes, “don’t have to pretend like you’re surprised.”

“I’m not into--” you sigh, a smile of disbelief tugging at your lips. “Okay, tell me why you think I’m into Mark.”

“I don’t think. I know,” Donghyuck argues and you scoff, “but it’s obvious. And I have proof. Take when we were playing volleyball for instance. The whole time, you kept eyeing Mark up and laughing at his jokes. All of them. Even the weird ones that nobody gets.”

You snort. “Baby… I wasn’t ‘eyeing Mark up’, I was watching him just in case he missed the ball. And about the joke thing, to his credit, some of them were actually pretty funny! But, as for the the rest--and don’t tell Mark I said this--I felt kinda bad nobody else laughed at them, so I just laughed along with him. Trust me, I’ve been in his shoes before and it sucks. Not all of us are born as naturally as funny as you, Hyuck.” You’re a little remorseful that you’re essentially dissing Mark, but you’re sure he’d understand. Your relationship’s on the line here.

Donghyuck harrumphs, but you can tell by the slight quirk of his lip that he’s a little tickled by you poking fun at Mark and he’s totally been swayed by your compliment.

“Okay, fine that explains that, but how about when we went swimming just now? Why did you and Mark keep exchanging funny looks?”

“That?” You giggle. “You know how your drink was mysteriously replaced by seawater?”

“Yeah,” he trails off, his suspicion growing by the second.

“Who do you think that was?”

Donghyuck groans. “Wait, that was you? Seriously? That was mean, babe.”

“Aww, I know, Hyuck. I’m sorry,” you coo. Your hand inches its way closer to his as you attempt to intertwine your fingers together.

Donghyuck rejects your endeavour of fondness. “Nu-uh, no way. I’m not done with you yet.”

“Oh my God, Hyuck, there’s more?” you complain, though there’s a tint of amusement in your voice.

“Yes, there’s more, and you won’t be able to worm your way out of this one either,” he says smugly, as if it’d be a good thing if you in fact, couldn’t worm your way out of his next accusation. “How about when we went to get ice cream and you kept sliding up next to him?”

You pout. “I just wanted to try the watermelon popsicle he got.”

Donghyuck blinks at you, his once irritated expression dissolving. He seems dumbfounded as you hold his gaze, your mirthful smile never faltering. He turns away from you. “Oh, well… then whatever. I guess you aren’t into Mark.”

“Hyuck,” you say, hand crawling up his arm, “were you jealous?”

“Well, yeah, obviously,” he deadpans, still refusing to meet your gaze.

You giggle. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”

His cold facade is immediately abandoned at your teasing intonation, and just like that, your cheery Hyuck is back. “Baby,” he whines, readjusting himself so he’s facing you head-on, “don’t tease me. I couldn’t help but be jealous, you know?”

“And why is that?”

Donghyuck purses his lips. “Why? What do you mean why?” He gestures up and down, eyes sweeping over you. “Look how pretty you are! What am I supposed to do when you look this good all the time? It’s unfair, really, that you’re this pretty.”

A blistering heat, one that is much hotter than the Sun, gathers in your cheeks. “Oh really now, Hyuck?”

“Yes, really,” he says, genuity seeping into his every word. “Literally, everyday I’m surprised you’re even real.” You grin bashfully and Donghyuck pounds his fist to his chest dramatically like he’s been shot. “See! You’re only smiling and I’m already having heart palpitations at just twenty years old.”

“Okay, okay, Hyuck. You can stop hyping me up now,” you chuckle. You’re beyond glad that your boyfriend has returned to his spirited self, but you know you should address what just happened seriously, just in case. “But hey, I’m sorry that I made you feel that way. Looking back, it definitely could’ve been misinterpreted as flirting and I would never want you to have any reason to feel insecure about our relationship because you own my heart, Hyuck.”

“Aw, babe, you can be really cheesy when you want to be,” says Donghyuck, pinching your cheeks. He plays what you said off casually, but you know that deep down, it resonates with him, and he honestly appreciates your sincerity. “Come here, I need a hug.”

“Right now? There are people around, Hyuck.”

“But you look so good right now. I can’t resist.”

“I don’t know, Hyuck…” You smile demurely.

“Alright, then what about,” Donghyuck reaches to tuck your hair behind your ear, whispering, “we ditch the beach day and go cuddle in the car? My skin’s burning, anyway.”

You grin. “They’re gonna notice that we went missing, you know?”

“So?” Donghyuck challenges, leaning in to place a short but telling kiss on the juncture which connects your ear and your jaw. “Even better. I want them to know.”

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nerdypanda3126 · 3 years

Text

An Interesting Little Relationship

This was written for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Sprint Fic Challenge.

The "rules" are three 15-minute sprints with 24 hours for light editing, which includes new writing to smooth transitions or make it feel complete. Except I broke a few rules on this one... so I used I think six sprints total (lost count a bit 😅) and in between sprints I let myself keep writing until I got stuck.

This time around I used the prompt: "As if life hasn’t been hard enough lately…you just met your soulmate, and they’re not even human. (Supernatural/monster AU)"

And @airi-p4 wrote this minific based on a Julie and the Phantoms AU and it all just kinda clicked in my head. Although fair warning for those of you who know the show, I did take away the ability to handle the instruments to play more with the "can't touch real things"... thing.

Read on Ao3

The question had been on Marinette’s mind ever since she first met Luka. Which wasn’t too out of the ordinary. For those with visible marks, it was often the first thing people noticed. Marks stood out like wedding bands—jet black for those still waiting, brilliant color for those who’d already found their soulmate, a permanent reminder of the first touch.

Luka had three black marks like smudges across the backs of his fingers, as if he were destined to brush his knuckles against some stranger’s at some point in his life and discover what everyone hoped to.

The problem was, Luka’s life was already over.

He and the band had first shimmered into existence when she found their demo buried along with the rest of their things in the attic and popped it into the dormant CD player. As she’d listened, nodding her head along to the punk rock beat and appreciating the skill of the guitarist, suddenly there they were, three ghosts standing right in front of her.

She’d screamed. They’d screamed. Eventually everyone calmed down enough for Luka to explain that her attic was their old studio and introduce his sister, Juleka, and their drummer, Ivan. And as he gestured to himself, her eyes went straight to those three black marks that she’d been watching ever since.

She rubbed at her own mark—three black streaks on the side of her neck, just below her ear—as they worked on writing a new song together. Luka was brainstorming aloud, pacing back and forth soundlessly, while she handled the pen.

Touch was tricky for him. If he focused sometimes, he could pick up small things. He’d managed to grab a pick once and strum it across his guitar in its stand and he’d been giddy about it for days afterward. Sometimes it made her think that maybe it wasn’t all that crazy that her marks seemed to match with his. Maybe it was possible…

“Hey, you okay, boss?” Luka asked, breaking her out of her thoughts as he took a seat next to her on the old couch and laid his arm casually along the back of her seat. She could almost imagine his weight settling into the spot, although of course he himself was weightless. She frowned at the unburdened upholstery under his thighs as if it had personally offended her.

“Isn’t it weird?”

“Isn’t what weird?”

“You can sit there, and you can pick things up sometimes and you don’t go through the floor or anything, but you can’t touch… other things.”

As if to prove her point, Luka propped his legs up on the small table she’d brought up, crossing his graffitied high tops across her notebook and smirking. She rolled her eyes and went to shove him off out of habit. Her hand passed right through him, making his feet look like a staticky TV picture for a second before they were back to normal. She frowned at them, too.

Luka seemed to take her meaning because he moved his feet back down and leaned forward on his elbows instead, tracing lazy patterns on her notebook with his painted fingernail as his eyebrows furrowed in thought beneath his blue-tipped bangs. The paper crinkled under his touch in the quiet between them.

“Yeah, it’s weird,” he finally agreed.

She kept her eyes focused on those three black marks. For a moment she fantasized about taking his hand and tracing them, but she knew her hand would pass through his like she was trying to hold onto air. “It just doesn’t make sense,” she started again, “if you can’t touch people, why do you still have your marks?”

He laid his hand flat on the table, then, considering them. She rubbed at hers again self-consciously.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I guess it’s maybe because I died before I met them. You know, seventeen. I didn’t have much time. Jules still has hers, too.” His eyes flicked to her hand covering her mark. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s stupid,” she muttered. “I’ve just been wondering if maybe… you know…”

His eyebrows disappeared behind his bangs as a disbelieving grin spread across his face. She wished she could shove his shoulder or tug his beanie down over his nose or flick the gauges in his ears or do something to him. As it was, she tossed her pen at him, taking what small pleasure she could from it when it passed between his eyes, at least marring that grin for a split second.

“Shut up,” she said, her face flaming as she turned away. “I told you it was stupid.”

“What if it wasn’t, though?” he asked. “I mean, you said it yourself, I can touch other things. And who knows how these things really work, right? Maybe it doesn’t have to be a touch, maybe it can be… I don’t know, the intent of a touch, or—”

“Luka…” His name came out half as a warning and half as a sigh.

“I’m just saying, maybe we could try. Maybe—”

“It’s not you, Luka,” she said, her tone slipping out with more petulance than she meant it to. Which one of them was she trying to convince, anyways? “It can't be you. You’re—well, let’s face it. You’re a ghost. You're not real. Even if it was you—which it’s not, but if it was—I mean, how would that even work? I can’t touch you, you can’t touch me, and the marks only change when someone touches you for the first time. Everyone knows that’s how this works, and we—”

She stopped when she caught sight of his face again. Only a moment ago she’d been wishing she could wipe the grin off his face and now that it was actually gone, now that his shoulders were slumping in disappointment and his eyebrows were furrowing again, now she wished she hadn’t brought it up in the first place.

It hurt more than she thought it would. That maybe he’d thought about it, too, and wanted it as much as she did.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, avoiding his eyes. “Forget I said anything.”

She felt it when he poofed away a moment later, like a small bubble had popped leaving the atmosphere a little harder to breathe. She groaned and let her head fall against the table with a heavy thunk, then thunked it again a few more times for good measure.

***

And he did forget about it. Or at least he didn’t bring it up again over the next few weeks, although she did catch him looking at her marks more often. Usually with the same concentration as when he was trying to write his own lyrics down using the pen he was getting better and better at manipulating.

It wasn’t until she overheard him and Juleka arguing one night that she realized it was even still on his mind. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but Luka’s exasperated tone made her pause before opening the door to the attic.

“She deserves someone real, Jules. Her real soulmate, whoever the lucky bastard is, and I’ll never be able to give her that. I mean, okay, let’s say I do tell her, and by some miracle she wants to give up waiting for her soulmate and be with me. Our options are basically I stay here, forever stuck at seventeen, and I watch her grow old and…”

The way he trailed off made Marinette picture him turning that focused gaze of his on his guitar as his jaw tensed, the way he sometimes did when his words failed him. It always made her think he wished he could let the guitar speak for him.

“I mean, she can never have a family with me, we can’t share our lives together,” he continued bitterly after a moment. “Hell, she can’t even tell anyone I exist because they’ll think she’s insane. Or what if I somehow manage to cross over and she’s left to try to figure out how to move on? It’s just…” For once Marinette actually heard him sit heavily on the couch, the leather whooshing out from under him and the supports creaking under the weight of his emotion. “I don’t see the point in telling her.”

There was a long pause and Marinette was starting to wonder if Juleka was even still in the room with him, but then she heard a sharp smack and Luka’s annoyed protest.

“The point,” Juleka shot back with more force in her voice than Marinette was used to hearing, “is that I’m sick of watching you moping around like this. And besides, don’t you think Marinette deserves to know?”

“Well—”

“Look, maybe you’re soulmates and maybe you’re not. You may never know, right?”

“Jules, I don’t think you understand—”

“But you love her, don’t you? Regardless of fate or whatever.”

“Of course, but—”

“So tell her.” Juleka’s voice was like steel and it made Marinette shiver to think of being on the receiving end of it.

She waited, breathless, for Luka’s response, but she only heard a small pop as one of them left. Tentatively, she pushed on the door and let it swing open. Luka was still on the couch with his head in his hands and his fingers dug into his hair as he stared at his shoes. He didn’t seem to notice her entrance until she knocked on the doorframe. His head snapped up and his eyes widened, but before she could even say ‘hello’ he popped out of the room, too, leaving her mind spinning and her heart pounding.

***

He wasn’t avoiding her. If anything, they spent more time together now than… before, but he always managed to make sure someone else was around. Her parents, especially, because he knew she wouldn’t talk to him in front of them, but that didn’t stop him from doing those annoying ghost things that drove her crazy.

Like pushing her plate to the side just as she was about to take a bite, or turning lights off randomly and grinning at her when her parents wondered about the fuses, or tucking doodles and notes and lyrics torn out of her own notebook but in his scratchy handwriting into her shoes and her hair bands and her backpack and—why did he have to be so infuriatingly adorable?

She was running out of reasons to explain why she was blushing and smiling so much nowadays. Especially since her mark was as black as ever.

***

It took a while, but eventually he slipped up. It was a band meeting. Juleka was missing, which wasn’t surprising; she’d been gone more often than not and anytime they asked where she’d been she’d mutter an excuse and hide, blushing, behind her hair.

So Ivan was acting as Luka’s buffer, preventing her, as usual, from asking him about what she’d overheard, until Luka mentioned a name, Mylène, and Ivan went quiet before he popped away without another word.

Luka muttered an apology to the air Ivan had been occupying before he froze and turned those same wide eyes on Marinette. She half-expected him to poof out, but instead he picked up his pen and started twirling it nervously through his long fingers. After what felt like an eternity of silence, she huffed out a breath and dove in.

“I heard everything, Luka.”

He nodded, flicking his eyes up briefly before focusing back on the pen. “I know.”

“So? What happens now?”

He shrugged and leaned back against the couch, avoiding her eyes. “Your call, boss.”

He was trying to look indifferent, unaffected, but she could tell by the way his pen was still spinning that he was only trying to distract himself. She rubbed at her marks, considering, then shifted closer to him. If he were actually sitting next to her, her knee would be leaning against his. Instead the boundary between them shimmered like a mist. It gave her a strange sense of warmth mixed with melancholy. She put her hand out on her knee, palm up, offering it to him.

All but his pen had frozen when she moved, but when his eyes flicked down to her hand, the pen slipped out of his focus and clattered to the floor.

She couldn’t help her small giggle at his astonishment. In a daze, he reached out to hover his hand over hers, his fingers arched so that his fingertips were poised on top of hers, but not quite daring to close the distance.

When he finally did, both of their shoulders fell when his hand passed entirely through her.

Luka pulled away with a small, bitter chuckle. She flexed her fingers, wishing that they felt any different. It should feel different. It was only because he wasn’t—no, not that he wasn’t real , because he most certainly was. And she couldn’t even say he wasn’t alive either, because Luka was the most alive person she’d ever known. Or at least that’s how he made her feel. So, then, it was only because they were on two different planes of existence. Two different places. That’s why they couldn’t…

“This is an interesting little relationship you and I have,” he muttered, but when she looked over he was smiling, flexing his fingers the same way she was.

She nodded to agree. Interesting. That was a good word for it.

***

“When did this happen?” Marinette asked as Juleka sheepishly moved her long hair aside to show the bubblegum pink mark across the back of her shoulders.

Juleka shrugged and hid her eyes behind her hair. “I dunno. A week ago maybe?”

Marinette shared a glance with Luka. About the same time she started disappearing from band meetings, then. She couldn’t help letting her eyes travel down to Luka’s hand. Juleka found her soulmate in the afterlife. That proved it was possible, right? Or what if Luka was meant to find another ghost like Juleka? What if she was actually the one standing in the way of his happiness? What if—

That strange sense of warmth passed through her and she realized Luka had come over to stand next to her and pass his hand through hers. It was a simple reminder of the other day and she got his message loud and clear.

I choose this.

If she could’ve, she would’ve laced her fingers through his and squeezed. Instead, she passed her hand back through his, echoing his message with her own.

Me, too.

***

The ache to touch him didn’t fade. It was always there, tugging at her heart. But it was nice, what they had. She was getting used to his way of being with her. The way he would sit closer now, letting his shoulder not quite brush against hers. Or the way he would reach for her hand, not seeming bothered when it went through her and instead letting his intent speak for him.

Maybe it wasn’t how she thought things would go. But it was working for them.

She was leaning over her notebook with her headphones in, focused on writing something for him when it happened.

She didn’t even know he was there. Usually he’d give her some sort of indication that he’d entered the room. A prickle on the back of her neck or an impression of warmth on her cheek or he’d make some sort of noise as he sat down. Maybe he did and she didn’t notice, but she did notice when her hair was gently pushed aside off her neck and it fell over her shoulder instead. She did notice the lingering sense of a featherlight touch. And not the ghostly touch she was used to. An actual touch.

She froze and pulled her headphones out and turned to find Luka standing behind her with a look of absolute awe on his face, his eyes locked onto the small expanse of skin he’d managed to bare. He’d managed to touch.

On the side of her neck, just below her ear.

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he breathed.

#lukanette #Pro LukaMari #lukanette endgame #endgame lukanette #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #julie and the phantoms au #soulmate au #LBSC sprint fic challenge #panda sprints

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herstroywritten · 3 years

Text

No, really. They’re just friends.

Ya, I have no excuse for this one either. But listen, I thought I got the Rivusa jitters out with that last fic and I most definitely lied to myself. I’m gonna be writing one of these a week at this point. Idk. Maybe I’ll take prompts. If this is how my brain has decided its going to deal with this obsession, I may as well share it. Enjoy this circus of angst and ~soft~ feelz, fellow clowns.

She felt it before she saw it.

It took all of her strength not to crumble to her knees and just throw up her dinner's contents onto the earth beneath her feet. She's not sure how long they had been fighting for, but she knows they've never gone for this long before. She can feel it in her organs and the thumping beat of her powers within her mind as she desperately tries to not let the agony of all the burned ones around them get to her. They're screeching and wailing in inhuman sounds as swords are buried within their bony chests and magic is aimed directly at their suffering bodies.

It's Musa's worst nightmare, standing here in the middle of a battlefield trying to direct everyone in the directions of the never-ending stream of monsters while wielding a small dagger tight enough that she swears her fingers have become one with the hilt of the weapon. She watches as another creature lunges for Terra who is currently preoccupied with the two burned ones in front of her, strangling them with vines and wrapping them in thorns. Before she really has any time to think about what she's about to do, she jumps the creature coming from behind, wraps her body around it as they both go tumbling to the ground and plunges the dagger in her hand into its back, piercing through the position where a heart once existed when the body this beast currently inhabits belonged to a human.

She's so caught up in the agony that radiates from the animal-like creature that she barely registers the tingle of rage and bloodlust the blooms in the back of her mind. When she finally forces her attention away from the burned one below her, that same feeling becomes much more prominent. She never gets the chance to warn the others, not before she hears Sky scream his name from across the field of burning bodies and barren wasteland.

"Riven!"

She whips around so fast that she loses her footing, falls flat on her face, and as she scrambles to get back up she realizes that the tingle of bloodlust she felt was so loud because the creature that was emitting it was right in front of her, charging at her full speed. She turned her gaze to the right of the field, watching as Sky ran past Bloom and Stella and Aisha screaming Riven's name in voice gone raw. She can't see where he's looking, where Riven is. All she can see is the burned one making its way to her and she remembers that she should do something but her brain has gone numb, finally giving up on her and it feels like her body is retreating onto itself as the noise around her slowly eats away at her soul.

She watches frozen in place as Riven comes up from behind her, pushes her to the side, and lets the creature run straight into him instead. It takes a swing at him, scrapes like wild at whatever part of his skin it can get its claws on. She watches in horror, hears a noise from outside her mind and for a second she thinks it’s the screech of another burned one lurching for her but then she feels her jaw stretch and her vocal cords strain against her throat and then it becomes so very clear that the noise she's hearing is her own scream sounding his name. And she's not sure if she imagines this last part, but there are waves of purple air passing through the space across the expanse of the field. A terrible blast sounds in the distance (or was it right next to her?), and her body finally gives in to exhaustion.

________________________________________________________________

She awakens with his name on her lips, dreams of his body curling onto the bloody grass beneath him fresh in her mind. As she moves her body into an upward position, she feels two pairs of steady arms on top of her, pushing her down onto the bed once more. She's struggling to open her eyes as there are bright lights above her and her neck feels too tight to twist in any other direction. When she finally manages, she finds Aisha and Bloom at her sides. Their eyes are filled with worry, as they exchange glances between the two of them.

"Do you think she'll pass out again?" Hearing Aisha's calm voice puts Musa in a better mood, reminds her that things can't be too bad if her suitemate is speaking in such a collected tone.

"I don’t know. She's woken up three other times before and then just knocked out right after. And she's been screaming for at least an hour now…" Bloom's reply takes her by surprise. She wants to tell them she's fine, they can stop worrying about her. She can feel their anxiety heighten by the second and her mind is too numb to try to block out their feelings, so instead she's bombarded with them in neverending waves. Her throat feels like sandpaper as she tries to speak, so she goes for a moan instead. Aisha and Bloom's heads snap away from each other and down at her form as soon as they register the sound.

"Musa? Can you hear me?" She turns to Aisha as much as she can in her state and shoots her a small smile.

"Yeah…" her voice dies as she attempts to speak again.

"Oh! Let me get you some water!" Bloom's sprints out of the room (her and Terra's bedroom she realizes now as she watches the plants that Terra so delicately hung from the ceiling sway in the silent motion of the air around them). Aisha stands by her side and grabs her hand. Musa can't really see her face from this position, but she can feel the relief and joy rolling off her suitemate. She tries to get up again, and Aisha is at her side in seconds, pushing pillows up above the headboard and trying to make the awkward position as comfortable as possible.

Bloom returns with the water and some hot tea, and she drinks both glasses without complaining about the fact that it's not the tea Terra usually prepares for them in the morning. She's just grateful to be able to feel her vocal chords functioning once again.

"Wow, you must have been so thirsty," Bloom chuckles as Musa drowns the last of her piping hot tea.

"You have no idea," she manages to finally croak out some words. "How long have I been out?"

"A day, give or take," replies Aisha.

"A whole day! Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Umm, we tried… but you were going through a bit of a magic stress-induced coma."

"A what?"

"Magic stress-induced coma, or at least that's what Dowling explained it to us as. You overexerted your powers to their breaking point and your body and needed time to rejuvenate itself," Aisha explained.

"Kinda like what happened to me last semester…" Bloom's voice grew thinner and thinner as she finished that line. Musa turned to look at her redhead suitemate, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.

"But that happened when you got your wings… and I didn't even do anything out of the ordinary…" Bloom and Aisha exchanged looks at her comment, and she practically shivers at the intense emotions of caution and anxiety that her mind picks up.

"At least, I don’t think I did," she narrows her eyes at the two girls in front of her. "There's something you're not telling me. What is it?"

There's an awkward silence as she watches Bloom and Aisha communicate through their eyes, as if deciding whether to tell her or not and how.

It's Bloom who finally speaks up. "Something did happen. A lot happened, actually. We're not sure how exactly, none of us were really paying attention because we were busy dealing with the burned ones. Sky probably saw the most out of all of us. He says he saw a burned one coming for you, and he tried to call your name but you didn’t hear. And then he saw Riven running toward you, but he realized too late that Riven wasn't holding his swords and that the monster was getting too close too fast for him to do anything but block the attack. Sky started running after Riven, but it was too late-"

"What do you mean, it was too late?" Musa's voice rises in pitch, her nerves fray at the edges as the nightmare she'd been having came to reality.

"It tore into Riven's skin. Deep." Aisha continues the story, and before Musa could open her mouth to ask something else, Aisha was talking again. "That's not the whole of it." That’s not the whole of it? What else could there be? Where was this going? Come to think of it, why did she remember none of it?

"As soon as Riven's body landed on the ground, there was a bright light and a sound that surprised us all. This is the part that we all remember… the sound was coming from you Musa. You were glowing, and the earth was shaking at the force of whatever noise was coming through. We couldn't see you for a few seconds, just a lot of light. I remember the burned one I was dealing with a the time fell backward on itself and, and… I don’t know, it, like, disintegrated. Without a sword through its chest or any outward magic. All of them just fell to the ground in pieces." By this point, Musa's mind is reeling. How was that possible? And why did any of it matter? Where was Riven? Where were Terra and Stella? Sky?

"I got to you first," continues Bloom. "You were in the air, and you had wings behind your back Musa. You got your wings."

"What?!"

"I know, I know. It's insane, but I swear you had them, and then when I finally got close enough to you to touch you, you were falling. The wings had run their course and your energy was basically drained. I managed to fly you back down to the ground but you were already passed out at that point."

Musa doesn't exactly know how to process all this information, but she doesn't give herself too much time to dwell on it. There are other problems at hand. "Where are Stella and Terra?"

"Terra is in the infirmary, helping her dad with some of the wounded. Stella broke a rib and sprained her ankle during the battle, so she's in the infirmary too but Harvey said she should be ok. We've been taking turns visiting her, making sure she doesn't somehow try to sneak out. She's been asking about you. Bloom was just there with her, and she left Sky on Stella duty. Honestly, that girl has all of Alfea watching her and making sure she doesn't do something stupid. Future queen and all-" Aisha's rambling. Her words are picking up pace, and even if Musa wasn't an empath, she would have been able to notice the unease in her emotions and the perturbation behind her attitude.

"And Riven? Where's Riven?" God, please let him be okay. That stupid, stubborn specialist who insisted that he train her when Dowling had asked Silva for a personal trainer for Musa a few weeks ago, right after they had managed to push Rosalind out of the school.

Her breathing picks up as she watches Bloom watch Aisha, who's now looking at the wall in front of her and frowning.

"Oh for god's sake, just spit it out! You're killing me."

It seems Bloom has finally worked up the nerve, as she catches Musa's eye and states in a quiet voice, "He's also in the infirmary. But, it's not good, Musa. The burned one that attacked him is gone, but it got him right in his heart. The poison already made contact. Professor Harvey is trying his best, and Dowling tried some magic healing too, but it's just not… it's not working. He's going into some sort of surgery right now. Harvey is going to try to kill the poison from the inside out."

Musa's world is spinning, and she feels her breathing quicken. Damn him, she thinks. Damn Riven and his stupid need to jump right into danger. She's furious at him for doing it, for jumping in front of her when that blow was so very clearly meant for her to take. Perhaps she would have been able to handle it better, she had magic and could likely recover faster. It should have been her on the surgery table right now.

"Musa, I'm sorry. We don't really know what's going on between you guys and we didn't want to say the wrong thing, so we haven't asked. But we're here if you want to talk, and we want you to know-"

Musa cuts Bloom off, "I want to go see him." Bloom and Aisha exchange another look, and Musa thinks she might actually lose her mind if they keep doing that.

"Stop that. Stop looking at each other like that, and stop looking at me like I'm a pity party you decided to attend. And for the love of God, stop talking as if he's going to die."

"Musa-" Aisha never gets the chance to speak.

"I want to see him."

"I don't think-"

"You're either going to help me get off this bed and to the infirmary, or you're going to watch me crawl my way there. Your choice." Musa narrows her eyes at the two girls, waiting to hear the answer she knows they'll pick. If there's one thing this semester has taught her, it's that she would do anything for these girls, and they would do anything for her. It's become an unspoken rule amongst the suite: One of them makes a dumb choice, they all make a dumb choice. Bloom wanted to go follow voices in the night, they all followed noises until the sun came up. Stella wanted to sneak out to spy on her mother in an effort to find the hidden secrets of Solaria, they were all ready to sneak into the royal palace and play dirty. Terra wanted to sneak in secret potions from her cousin into the school so that they can bring back Headmistress Dowling, they all offered to hide random potions in their sock drawers, in their purses, under their beds, between the cracks of their wooden floorboards. Aisha wanted to sneak into the East Wing to find the war room Bloom had stumbled upon last semester so that she could compare documents and find information while Rosalind's guards stood watch just meters away, the rest of the girls created a distraction. In other words, if one falls, they all fall.

And Musa had never asked for them to fall with her, had never wanted them to sink with her. Not when they begged her to let them follow her on her nightly walks after Sam and her had broken up. Not when the anniversary of her mother's death creeped up on her during Rosalind's reign of terror, and they asked if she wanted them to sneak her out and back home so that she could visit the grave. She'd never asked because honestly, she felt that if they were going to get caught doing anything, it should be something that was going to make the world better, not something that included her unresolved past traumas. But, fuck it, she was asking now. And she knew they would not say no.

"Musa, he's in surgery. Harvey is about to cut his chest open, I don’t think you want to see that." Aisha's words are gentle, carrying with them waves of concern and protectiveness. Musa knows that her suitemates are just trying to make sure she makes it out of this somewhat unscathed, but she also knows that Riven has already left his marks and scars all over her body. They may be trying to heal those same scars before they become too fully bleeding gashes, but she's trying to make sure they stay there, that he stays with her. That's the only way she's coming out of this without any wounds.

"I know. And I'm going to be there when they do it. I'm going to take his pain. He took that blow for me. It was mine to begin with. It's only fair."

"Musa-"

"They can't use painkillers on him. I know they can't. Harvey couldn’t use them on Sam when he was wounded at the end of last semester. The other mind fairies are not as advanced as I am, I've been practicing with Dowling since she got back. He needs me. And I need to do this. Please, let me."

It doesn't take too much to break them down. "Alright," sighs Aisha.

________________________________________________________________

Sky refuses to let her into the room.

Apparently, Stella was not the only thing he was on the lookout for. Silva and Dowling had positioned him outside the surgery door of the infirmary, telling him to make sure he let no one in until Harvey said so. When Musa had entered through the doors, holding on to Aisha and Bloom as she stepped her way through the room with as much grace as she could muster in her condition, Stella had called her name from her bed of bandages causing Sky to leave his post and run to help the two girls struggling to hold her weight beneath them. Terra, who had been across the room tending to a wounded soldier with Sam, left her brother to finish stitching up the cut and made her way to Musa.

"I need to get into the surgery room," she'd said before Sky and Terra got the chance to ask her how she was. And then Sky began his speech about how he couldn't let her in, and about how it wasn't something she would want to see and honestly, she wished she was able to control minds at this moment instead of just emotions.

In the end, it’s Stella who says, "Oh, for God's sake. If she wants to do it, let her. She'll get in there one way or another, the least we can do is make sure she doesn’t try to climb the window and break a leg or something." Her voice lilts in a sarcastic manner, but her eyes are steady as she catches Musa's eye and nods her head toward the surgery door at the end of the room. Musa steps away from Sky and the girls, stumbling her way toward that same door, and this time, Sky didn't try to stop her.

She cracks the door open, and finds Harvey holding a sterile knife to an unconscious Riven's chest as he lays on a cold, gray bed table. She made it right before the first cut.

"Stop!"

Harvey turns to her, surprised to find her up and about. "Musa, you shouldn't-"

"I'm going to take his pain." It's a statement that leaves no room for arguments. Maybe Professor Harvey realizes he needs to move quick before the specialist on the table takes a turn for the worst or maybe he's just finally stopped trying to pretend like he can control what hormonal and impulsive teenagers do, but he doesn't bother to try his hand at convincing her that this is maybe not the best idea when she herself is worn out. He just nods his head and lets her take Riven's hand.

And then she forces herself to watch as the knife cuts into his skin, below the black and red wound that adorns his chest. She doesn't flinch when his breath hitches in his sleep and she feels white, blinding pain fill her mind. She doesn’t back away as his body begins to shiver and her legs shake along with him. She simply locks her arms across his shoulders to stop his body from moving and let Professor Harvey finish what he started, lowering her head to the crook of his neck, lips brushing his ear. "Don’t you dare," she whispered, furious tears streaming down her face and onto his neck as her body takes the brunt of his pain. "Don’t you dare die in my arms."

She takes his pain even after Harvey is finished and Riven's chest is stitched back up, partially because she doesn't want him to suffer and partially because his pain has become so engrained in her mind that she can't seem to let him go. Before the professor leaves, he drags a chair to the bedside and pushes her onto it, her body still curled onto the boy on the surgery bed.

"Sit."

So she sits, and she cries, and she breathes in his scent, and she intertwines the fingers of her right hand with his, her left hand finding its way to his hair. She rubs circles into his palm, and plays with the tendrils of his hair as she watches his face and cries.

_______________________________________________________________

Six hours later, her cries have become hiccups and his eyes are fluttering open.

"Hello, gorgeous," he whispers, his green eyes focusing on her brown ones in the light of the rising moon through the windows of the cramped surgery room. She's relieved to see his usual smirk find its way onto his face.

She chokes on her laugh, and fresh tears start streaming down her face, these ones more happy than the last. "Hi," she whispers back.

They don't say anything else that night, both too tired and too elated to not be dead. And, perhaps, too scared to say what they both probably already know. So she sits next to him with her hands still all over him, and he watches her eyes until they close and she falls asleep beside him.

________________________________________________________________

He spends three weeks in the infirmary.

They situate him next to Stella, and the two of them spend the days and nights bickering humorously back and forth. He uses her title as an insult because he knows it gets under her skin and he might as well take advantage of the fact that she's bedridden and her powers are still weak so she can't blind him for the comments with either magic or her two bare hands. She digs into him about Musa, because she can and she wants to make sure that her friend isn't going to come out of whatever this is with a broken heart. And also, she's just nosy and wants to give her other suitemates some details when she finally gets out of the health wing. Too bad for her though, because Riven stands firm on the hill that they're "friends," a term Stella's never heard him use before and briefly debates if that's his equivalent for "girlfriend".

Sky and the girls visit every day before and after classes. They make sure Riven and Stella never eat breakfast, lunch, or dinner alone. They keep them up to date on the latest gossip. Terra and Bloom bring a bunch of bord games for them to play, and it’s the weirdest and most comforted Riven has ever felt. Sky even sneaks in his vape, which Harvey finds and immediately takes away, stating that he can't have substances in his system until he is fully healed.

But Musa, Musa never leaves. Not even when Stella leaves the infirmary and it's just Riven in there. Her friends have to force her out the door and to class in the morning, and to her bed when it reaches nighttime. She brings her headphones with her every day, crawls into his bed without asking, and slips one of the earbuds into his ear. They sit there and listen to music and just talk. He teases her about the songs he thinks are sappy, she dares him to keep making fun of her music taste so that she can push him off the bed.

"In my fragile state?! You wouldn't dare."

"Try me."

"Oh, I want to. Believe me, I want to." And she blushes and ducks her head below the hollow of his collarbone.

One night, when the girls come to pick up Musa and take her back to her room at midnight, as has become their nightly duty now, they find the couple snuggled into one another, headphone strings tangled between them. They can't bring themselves to tear the two apart, so after Bloom snaps a picture of them huddled up, they leave.

"Am I not catching something here, or are they still not a thing?" Terra asks as they exist the room, ever the confused one when it comes to these situations.

"As far as I know, they're still just friends and he's still an idiot, according to Musa."

Stella rolls her eyes at Aisha's response. "Yeah, sure. They're just friends, and Sky and Bloom are just acquaintances who casually make out in their free time."

________________________________________________________________

It's been two days since Riven was released from bedrest, and the whole gang is huddled around a picnic blanket between two trees on the far side of campus. It was Bloom's idea to have a "we made it to the end of the school year alive and in one piece!" picnic.

Sky and Bloom are sitting next to one of the trees that they've situated the large checkered blanket under. She's leaning against the tree, and he's laying down with his head on her lap. He laughs at her as she tells the story of her first picnic, his blue eyes following her every movement.

The rest of them are situated around the other edges of the blanket, listening to the story and laughing along.

"Ducks?!" exclaims Stella. "You were chased by ducks?!"

"Dude, don't laugh! Those things are scary! And when they're angry, they flap their wings at you-"

"Ah, yes," Musa jokes form her position next to Riven and against the other tree. "The wings are what really raise the fear level when it comes to ducks." She pops the last of her grapes into her mouth, and Riven watches her as she casually leans forward to grab some off his plate.

"Hey! Hands off, pixie. You have your own plate." She grabs the grapes anyway before getting back into sitting position.

"Ok, first off, it's fairy. Not pixie-"

"Not with your height, it's not." She punches his arm for that comment, the same arm she was practically sprawled over when he'd been dying on the surgery table, and he has to physically stop himself from shivering at her touch.

"Second, I'll trade you for the grapes."

"You don’t have anything I want, " he grumbles as he pushes her hand away from his biceps, only to have her slide her fingers between his and use him as leverage to pull herself closer to him. She's practically sitting on his lap when she leans in to his face, forgetting that there are others around them, eyes boring into his and whispers, "Are you sure about that?" No, he's most definitely not sure about it. And she knows it, so he just grumbles something about how he doesn’t really like grapes anyway and hands her his whole plate.

And if the rest notice that Musa never leaves Riven's lap, they don't mention it. The gang spends the better part of the afternoon sprawled out on that blanket and Musa and Riven spend it basically on top of each other. They're practically inches away from each other's faces each time he turns to make a stupid comment about the stories that are being told and they just get closer and closer each time she turns to chastise him about it.

And if the rest of the girls or Sky notice Riven's hand on Musa's hip as she leans into him, her left hand instinctively resting on the nape of his neck and twirling the ends of his hair between her fingers (a force of habit now), or the way his eyes follow her as she leans forward to shuffle the deck of Uno cards in the center of their little circle, or the undeniable heart eyes they throw at each other when they think no one else is staring… well, no one mentions that either. But the smirk Stella aims at the other girls and the eyebrow that she raises in their direction basically screams, "Yeah, right. Just friends."

________________________________________________________________

It's been one week since Riven was released from bedrest, and he's still not allowed anywhere near the training grounds for fear that his injury needs a little more time to recover. He showed up to combat class anyway, hoping Silva wouldn't notice or just wouldn't care. Silva did notice, and he immediately forced Riven off the training mats and on the benches. So that's how Riven ends up sitting on the sidelines, watching Musa spar with Tames, a third year specialist whose eyes linger a tad bit too long on Musa's legs as she twirls around and aims a high kick right at his chest, knocking him to the ground. Riven has to remind himself multiple times that Tames is nice guy, decent guy. He doesn't deserve a black eye. It's not his fault the Musa just so happens to have a great pair of legs and knows how to use them. A thought that then brings about an onslaught of fantasies to Riven's mind. And with those fantasies comes to mind another fact, that Riven should not feel so protective over a girl that's obviously not his girlfriend… Right?

By the halfway mark of the training session, he's pissed and has already considered sneaking off to the back of the school and smoking a joint or two. Maybe go for a walk, punch a wall, kick a tree. Whatever the hell. He'll do anything else than just sit here and watch Musa pin Tames to the ground with her legs and chest all over him one more time.

He's so frustrated that he doesn’t even notice as Musa leaves the mat mid-session and sprints to him, grabbing her duffel bag on the way.

"Wait up!" He slows down but doesn't stop walking. When she finally catches up to him, they're behind the school and he makes his way to one of the many pillars that surround the walls of the castle. As he leans against it and pulls out a joint, she reaches upward and grabs it from his hands before it reaches his lips. He feels the tips of her fingers brush against his mouth instead and wonders how the hell that gets him higher than any drug he's ever tried.

"You're not supposed to be smoking, " she states matter-of-factly, narrowing her eyes at him.

"And you're not supposed to be here. Seems like we've both some decisions." What he wants to say is, "Stay. Don’t go back to that training mat. Stay here with me instead."

She sighs. "Riven, Harvey made it very clear that you have to hold off on the smoking until he's sure your body is fully recovered."

"Not this again," he groans. "Don't tell me you're also going to make me sit on a bench and watch as Tames basically undresses you with his eyes-"

"What are you on about?" She's looking at him as though he's grown a second head.

"Oh, please. You can't tell me you haven’t noticed his eyes all over you in the past hour. It's honestly getting to be a little bit creepy." Her eyes flicker to his and she holds his gaze, a look of amusement on her face.

"Oh, and when you do it, it's not creepy?"

"At least I don't try to hide it." Her brown eyes gleam up at him as she presses herself and those heavenly legs against his form, perching herself on her tippy toes so that they're almost at eye-level.

"Clearly not. I mean, I guess Tames could have been staring occasionally, but Riven, your eyes didn't wander off of me once during that training session." He nearly chokes on his own spit as she smirks up at him. He'd really thought she hadn't noticed.

"I wasn't-"

"You were. That's ok, I do it too." The air around them suddenly feels heavier, and he watches as she pulls her eyes to his mouth, licks her lips with the tip of her tongue. He wants to kiss her, to test just how willing she is to practice all the things she's been implying for the past few weeks.

"Oi! Riven! Musa! Combat class is on the other side of campus!" It's Silva and he's clearly not amused at their run away from class. Riven questions for a hot second how bad it would be for him if he murdered a professor in cold blood, but then Musa's eyes give him a sultry little look as she presses herself just a little closer to him before pulling apart and turning to the combat professor.

"Sorry, Professor Silva. I forgot my duffel bag at the stone circle and Riven was just helping me grab it." Her words are smooth as honey and nonchalant, acting as if their teacher hadn’t just caught them in a very awkward position at a very awkward time.

"Uh huh. I'm sure he was. Get back on the mat, Musa." And then she just walks her way back to the grounds without even giving him a second look. But he watches her as she practically saunters her way back to Tames and he swears her hips have an extra sway to them.

"Damn it," he thinks. She's right, he does watch her every move.

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It's been three weeks since Riven was released from bedrest, which means it's been about a month of innuendos, not-so innocent touches, and downright dirty looks. At this point, the sexual tension has gotten to everyone around Riven and Musa. Bets have been placed on when the inevitable will happen and the Winx girls have become more invested in this particular progression of events than any of their coursework. Even Aisha stops stressing over exam season and joins in on the speculation.

So when it finally happens, Terra doesn't even blink when she walks to her room on a Sunday afternoon after a long day at the greenhouse, only to hear some very specific sounds coming from the other side of the door. She turns right back around and into the living room before the moans start.

She finds Stella on the couch filing her nails and Bloom sitting across from her flipping through a magazine lazily.

"Stella, I owe you 20."

#rivusa #fate the winx saga #musa #musa fate #riven #riven fate

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binniesthighs · 3 years

Text

two tails | reader x minho |

Three

Pairing: self insert, female reader x lee minho

Genre: strangers to lovers, neighbors to lovers, fluff

Tags: neighbors au, comfort fic, catowner!minho, catowner!reader, author!reader, bestfriend!seungmin, floristnpunk!jisung, gradstudent!jeongin, agedup!skz, slow burn, plot driven, gradual romance, lil bit of angst, strained parental relationship, explicit language, mentions of food and alcohol, mentions of previous kinda sad relationships

Word count: 5.4k (y e e h a w)

Tagging: @lauraneuuh

Chapters

P | ONE | TWO | THREE | ?

zeal noun

: eagerness and ardent interest in the pursuit of something: fervor

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

Seungmin never liked your cooking, or at least, he’d often mumble this into his spoon while beginning his second serving. He was probably just being nice, or respectful. Your best friend of four years had never been less.

Aside from the fact the he had a 70 pound golden retriever, never had you once seen a strand of that golden hair cling to the cloth of his winter coats. In the autumn, he would drive you in his hand-me-down ‘91 Mitsubishi to the city where you would tutor the English students just so you wouldn’t have to bear the cold of the subway. In the summers he would toss soju down his throat with you, sitting on the carpet of your living room and turning his head to the side with a hand raised to hide his glass. In the spring, he would remember your birthday--several months before his--and take you to coffee shops and bookstores, then the grocery store (which he knew you hated) and would buy for you the most expensive beef he could find.

You would cook the meat for the two of you, and he would say that he liked it...even if you had charred it black on the edges.

Seungmin flicked at the little aluminum tab on his beer can while he watched you murder yet another plate of perfectly fine vegetables on your stovetop.

“At least it smells nice.” You flipped the circle of white onion.

“It does.” He returned, nonchalant, flicking the beer tab a little poink.

“You’re being uncharacteristically quiet. Too tired to complain about those dicks from the marketing team? They put you on a shitty pitch again didn’t they?”

“Every pitch is a shitty pitch there. God, you wouldn’t believe the kinds of slogans that they make me say sometimes. It’s humiliating.”

“Hey, you’re the one that took the pay raise over that job at that high school.”

“Well, you didn’t have rent staring you dead in the face and a dog that’s practically active and sentient enough to be a real child.” He slugged down a sip of his drink. “I’m a single father you know.”

“As if!” You choked out your laughter. “Since when did you turn into Hyunjin? You were never one for dramatics anyway.”

“Go get your vegetables, they’ll burn.” He nodded his head to the stove. The thing was, they were already burnt.

You salvaged what you could of the vegetables then placed them over your rice balls (not intended to be balls in the first place) and the chicken strips which had undoubtedly been seasoned just a little too much. You slid the ceramic bowl in front of him. At least it was steaming. That was a good sign.

Seungmin nodded a little in thanks, then let out a less than obvious sigh before taking his first bite.

“Spicy...but good.”

The way that his breath sounded thin made it convincing enough to you that it wasn’t just “spicy.”

He scrunched up his face in that adorably puppy-like way that you had long gotten used to.

“Really. Tell me. It isn’t the pitches. Don’t pretend like I can’t read you.”

Your best friend squeezed his eyes shut with a rather generous slug of his beer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Whaaaat?” You whined a little while opening up your own can. “Oh my god. It’s that girl from the art division. She has a boyfriend doesn’t she? Dammit.”

“No.” Your friend drew the disdain in his eyes up to you from the chicken that had made his nose start to run. He wiped at it quickly.

“I hope it’s not my mother that’s getting to you. She’s too damn nosy for her own good and twice as cocky as she should be. Don’t listen to her. What did she tell you anyway?”

Seungmin poked at his food with his fork then twisted a crispy-tipped red pepper. “Have you talked to him again?”

“--Minho?”

You shied at the memory of meeting him on his morning run two days prior. He would go out at nearly 8:00 on the dot every morning, just when the sun started to peek into the dewy pink and blue mornings.

“You should put on a sweater if you’re going to get up this early for those plants of yours. Don’t want you catching a cold.”

“Yes.” You answered your friend. A tiny ache pinged at your chest--and it wasn’t the kind that felt all twisted. “He asked me to watch the meteor shower with him this weekend. I hope I can cook something edible for him.”

Seungmin’s knee bounced, “Aren’t you at least at little suspicious of him?”

“Suspicious? Why would I be?”

“You hardly even know anything about him, or where he came from, what he does for a living--”

“--Now you’re starting to sound like my mother Seung. Relax. Besides, sometimes it doesn’t take much to feel...comfortable around a person. I mean, look at us! Soju nights started like, three weeks after we met. And I do know where he works. He works for a company that makes windows; fancy ones.”

“Windows?” He cocked a brow.

“He did say that it was kind of boring...”

“I just--” Your friend sighed out, resting anxious hands on his knees. Here he was again, being nice and respectful, like always. “--You could get hurt if you’re not careful.”

“What?”

“I’m saying, don’t get your hopes up.”

“Geez Seung...” Your voice trailed off with a different pain in your chest. This was the kind that twisted.

His expression softened, and he lent a hand to your shoulder, lingering, squeezing lightly. “Your mom...she told me to look after you...not like I do that already with you falling all over yourself and burning things...I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Hm. Thanks.”

“You’re also miserable to deal with when you’re sad. You make me blow my grocery budget with how much frickin’ ice cream and freezer tater tots you force me to get.”

“You like those tater tots too though.”

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

Bomi purred in your lap swaddled into a little ball of white, orange, black and brown. She was napping, or rather, trying to nap with the way that her little cat-shaped eyes blinked slowly. You tried your best to soak every little moment of it up: you knew that with her, it would be fleeting. There was something supremely calming about being close to your little furball like this. After all the love that you poured over her in the form of useless cat toys and new cat food every week, this somehow made it all worth it.

You tapped lightly at your keyboard, not too harshly, just lightly enough so that you wouldn’t startle your sleeping cat. The tips of your toes were cold, but you didn’t dare to move to grab a blanket to ruin the moment. Outside, a light spring rain befell on your small cement patio. Droplets of the warm showers patted at the roof of your home softly.

Your eyes had grown tired and dry at this late hour, but the end of the chapter was near. One more time you hovered your mouse over the little notification bar, clicking at it for that one last push of motivation:

Bomi needs to quit MESSING AROUND. Blaze is right in front of her!!! Ahhhh I want them to get together soooo bad

Is Herbie okay?? Poor bb, its so cute how we would do anything for Bomi.

Bomi:

Blaze:

*now kiss*

Are we really getting to the end of Book 1??? This has been such an amazing story N/n, I always look forward to your updates <3 they make my Thursdays hehe

I can feel like something big and bad is coming...oh no...I hope that Blaze and Bomi make it through

A thankful little chuckle hummed on your lips, then you pressed enter to start a new paragraph.

“Oh Bomi,” You exhaled, “If only Blaze knew how you felt too.”

Chapter 27

...The group journeyed through the cavern with flickering white flames dancing and casting shadows on the stone walls dripping in stalactites. Bomi held on to the hilt of her sword tighter with a sense of dread creeping up her throat. Blaze looked onward, much as he had been doing these days.

His leg was wrapped in a bloodied bandage: a reminder of the battle won against the Boar in Hilgram. He had jumped in front of her as he had countless times before.

“Hello??” Blaze’s voice echoed against the long and winding chambers of the cave. In his tone he was confident, but his shoulders still shook with an uncertainty.

Herbie’s little hedgehog feet patted the damp floor, and he looked up at his Princess with fear in his soft black eyes. The little velvet banner wrapped around his body had been torn and tattered from one too many battles.

Had it been darker, Bomi wondered if she had reached out for Blaze’s hand to find in him. She shook her head with her resolve, eyes painfully shut. It was only in the darkness that she allowed herself to want for him.

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

Today must be one of those spring-summer days.

Your warbled reflection chased after you in the blue glass of the university’s library windows. You had hoped that no one was on the other side watching you as you wrinkled up your nose to look like one of those devilish gargoyles that you had been writing of the night before. From the inside, rows and rows of books were lined up perfectly, however there were almost no students inside. It always did make you a little sad how few students would be there when you clocked in for your mandatory office hours.

Spring-summer days meant that the businesswomen on the sidewalks had exchanged with trousers with flowing skirts and little clicky ballet flats and each businessman had his tie and collar tugged down. There was a comforting warmth to the spring air that reminded you of your own college days when you and your friends--long gone now--had stayed up late to study, then would scour the buzzing streets for snacks. Things were much simplier then.

At the library’s entrance, budding tulips and geraniums of light purple hues were greeted by round bumblebees. Had the city not been as loud as it was, you could nearly hear the cicadas in the park on the east edge of the shining silver building.

You bowed slightly to the attendant at the desk who always would smile at you with adorable smiling eyes to match. She would often wear earrings of strange shapes that you had never seen before. She wore a lanyard too that had little cat paw prints decorating it; it was because of this you knew she was someone you could trust.

“Are you having a nice week?” You said to her customarily.

“Oh, I am. It’s always the same around here. My daughter will be having her baby soon! Sometimes I think that I’m more excited than she is.”

“You’ll have to tell me when that happens so I can bring her a gift, okay?”

The attendant smiled warmly, and nodded you off with a little oh, you don’t have to.

“Remember your key card this time?” She watched as you jingled around your own keys with the obsessive amount of plastic and silicon keychains.

You tsked. It seemed like nearly everyone in your life had now known how forgetful you tended to be sometimes.

“Yes. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be over there.”

Once more the two of you exchanged little bows and you made your way over to the back of the four storied library with the atrium of trees in between. There was a marble fountain encircled by the trees that had little oval shaped leaves. Two tiny birds, all black, bounced from branch to branch. It was your secret, but you had written about that fountain many times in your writing, but you were the only one who knew that it was real.

You tapped the reader to hear that familiar do-do doot along with the flash of the green lock. As always, the study room was a bit messy with eraser shavings sprinkled about and the odd dry marker laying next to the trashcan where someone had tried to toss it in, but had missed. The minute hand on the wall clock scooted right on to the 12.

“Are you busy?” That fluff on white hair peeked into your study room just like clockwork.

“For my favorite student? Do you even have to ask?”

Jeongin, the oldest and most attentive student in your class hopped in with his adorably boy-ish charm. Regardless of the fact that he was in the last year of his grad degree, it was impossible for him to look that old. You didn’t have the heart to tell him, but he technically shouldn’t have been in your class for undergrads, but you weren’t going to stop him.

“Why’d you decide to take this class anyway?” You would ask him.

He’d answer, “For fun.” with that cute little smile of his.

“I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“I just got here.” You pulled out a seat for him.

“Oh. Good. I was wondering if you could proof read my short story again. I’m having trouble with the ending. I just don’t think I understand all the way how to make it full circle like you said in lecture.”

He unzipped his leather backpack: obviously a gift from someone in his family that must have thought it would make him look his age. It didn’t. What didn’t help further was how he had adorned it with all kinds of keychains; much like your own keys. It was because of this that you knew he was someone you could trust.

His manuscript already had dozens of scribbles in his own handwriting with tons of question marks riddling the margins.

“Let me take a look.”

You skimmed the pages of the short story--one which you had already read the week prior--for all of his new edits. The notes made it a bit hard to read, but you were used to how he would make a mess of his papers now. He leaned in close to you with glossy eyes that might have even twinkled a little like a cartoon. Both of his knees bounced furiously while he watched you read, and would look from the paper, to your face, then back to the paper, then back to your face...

“Is-is it good? Better?”

Jeongin had written a love story. His first one that you had known of. It was about a boy and a girl who had met on an airplane, and had been seated together. The two of them found out that they had shared so much about their two lives without ever meeting until this very moment. They had realized they went to the same high school, worked in the same building, and were travelling for the same reason: to meet up with someone that they had once loved. It was beautiful, tragic, and in some ways, familiar.

“I think that it’s wonderful Jeongin. The edits that you made to it from last week really help with the narrative flow as well as the vertical plot. You’re really good at asking the deeper questions behind the piece like “why are they really there,” and “why is it important that they are there.” All you need to do is tie it up.”

“But howwww?” Jeongin slumped in his wheely chair. “What should I say?”

“Well...” You tapped your pen to your lip. “The ending scene is when they land at the airport right? Why don’t you have your main character say something that calls back to all of their similarities and makes it seem like they’ve known eachother all along?”

“But I don’t want it to seem like they’re going to forget eachother.”

“They won’t. You established that they’ve both found something different than what they were looking for in the first place.”

Your student’s face tangled up into concentrated knots and he puffed those thin strands of bleached white hair away from his eyes.

“I could say...‘see you at home’? Or...maybe that’s too cheesy--”

“--No it’s not! If you like it, I think that it also fits the story well. Its like, now they understand, and they’ve got something in eachother now that they hadn’t had before; also juxtaposing with your themes of travelling to make a reference to home.”

“Damn, you’re much better at this kind of stuff than I am...” Jeongin wrote down the new ending on his print out.

“Its just...what I like to do.”

“I’m glad I came.” He grinned out with his mischievous and trademark smile. “How’s your story going by the way? Almost finished?”

“Oh...”

A heat rose in your cheeks. You had decided to tell Jeongin about Princess Bomi a few weeks back, but you had neglected to tell him exactly what the story was about. That was a secret better kept to yourself.

“Its...good. I think. My readers seem to really like it.”

“Maybe you’ll let me read it someday. I bet there would be tons of other people who would like to read it too, you know, outside of the internet.”

“That’s what I’ve been told...” Hyunjin’s urgings echoed in your head. “Maybe...” Your eyes wandered to those scribblings of his. “How about we make a deal?”

“What kind of deal?”

“Once we get both of our stories sorted, lets submit them together. I’m sure people would like to read yours too.”

“Mine?!” Your adorable student’s face flushed as deeply pink as the sweater he wore. “Oh no, no no no no no.”

“I’m telling you it’s good! Its relatable, raw, well written. It never hurts to try. How about submitting it for the literary journal they do at the end of the semester?”

“You mean the one that all the arts majors read and fuckin’ eviscerate?? Hell no.”

“Hey, I could get eviscerated too by my chief editor.”

Jeongin gulped with his terrified, brown, cartoon-character glistening eyes boring holes into his manuscript.

You sang, “~Wanna go down together~?”

“A-as long as we’re going down together...I guess it’s worth a shot.”

“Alright then!!”

He made a little sound of disgust, then shoved his papers back into his much-too-old-for-him bag. “That was all I needed to ask you for. Thank you.” He bowed with respect. “I won’t be bothering you for too long today.”

“You wrote a good story Jeongin.”

“Mm. Thank you.” His smile turned into a tiny flustered line.

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

STUPID NEW CAT FOOD. AGAIN.

In one hand, you held the crinkled up grocery list with angry doodles of your cat folded into the corners of the page. You didn’t quite know if cats had eyebrows like the ones you had drawn onto your cat’s smug face, but you were for certain that this cat must’ve had them...and they were angry.

Bomi had selfishly decided at the end of your week that she no longer liked the last brand of cat food that you had found on the shelves of the grocery store. It was the brand stored next to the one that you had nearly concussed Minho with.

You were at your wits end. There must have been something wrong with your cat--to hell with her being a picky eater. Maybe she really was just a little alien inside there. A little alien that hated cat food. The image of you sitting at your dining table across from Bomi eating two plates of people food crossed your mind. She picked up the fork with her white paw and dabbed at her mouth with a cloth napkin. The idea didn’t seem the most out of reach.

In your other hand was your phone opened to the maps app with the small blue dot leading you to the specialty pet store.

“Damn spoiled, stuck up, good for nothing, pain in my as--”

“Hey! Blossom??”

Your head whipped around so fast you cracked the bones of your neck with a startling pop. You rubbed at your neck to ease the pain.

“You okay?”

At first you figured you must have dreamt him up in your neck-induced-pain. You cursed at your overactive imagination, still just as strong as it was when you had been small.

Blaze in the flesh he was alllll the way from his battered Converse to his stupidly handsome curly hair.

You laughed out incredulously with a hand still glued to the back of your neck.

“Didn’t think that I would be seeing you around here again. Or at least, I was kind of hoping that I would.”

He marched right up to you with that same smile you had pictured on Princess Bomi’s companion countless times before. Today he wore a leather jacket over the arms that you knew were covered in all kinds of flowers and vines. It hadn’t quite hit you yet that he had said he was hoping to see you.

“Sorry if I startled you. I was just...really surprised.”

“You’re fine, it’s fine.”

You neck didn’t tell you it was fine.

“What are you doing around here?”

“Pet store.” Was all you could get out. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you, but for someone who worked at a flower shop, he did end up smelling an awful lot like flowers. It was a sweet aroma, much like your garden.

“Ahh, I just got off.”

You walked on, also not noticing that he had started to follow you a couple steps behind.

“I realized I didn’t get your name last time.”

“Oh. It’s Y/n.”

He hummed with a smirk. “I do kinda like Blossom more.” He crammed his hands into his pants pockets with a wistful little sigh. “Pretty nickname for someone as pretty as yourself.”

“Psh. Stop.” You had said it sarcastically, but you didn’t intend for your heart to skip as harshly as it did when he had said so.

“You’ve got a pet then? Dog? Cat?”

“Cat. Just one.”

“I wish I could take care of a pet like that. Don’t think I would be too good at it though. I see myself as more of a plant person. They’re quiet, don’t do too much, and they sort of love you back in their own way.”

“How's that?”

“By growing. And flowering. Changing colors and looking good in your windowsill. Nothing too crazy.”

“I...guess I can see what you mean.”

He flicked at the black hoop pierced into his lip in the way that you certainly hadn’t forgotten; and you were one for forgetting much.

“Mind if I go in with you? I don’t have a whole lot going on.”

Jisung. You had also remembered his name. He carried Blaze with him in the way that he had that fiery glint in his eye like he knew he was getting away with something. He was brash and forward, and charming as all hell. The sunset of blood orange and cotton candy pink seemed to melt into his shoulders where he stood before you in the golden hour of the evening. A yellow carnation was tucked into the pocket of his jacket.

“You don’t have to...”

He had already made up his mind, and swung open the door to the pet shop neighboring the floral shop. You didn’t know how you had missed it.

The squawking of birds chimed with the bells hung over the shop door.

“You coming?” He held it open for you.

You sheepishly entered before him, nearly tripping on the little incline to the entrance and catching yourself three seconds before disaster.

Jisung prompted, “Lead the way.”

Normally you would have been concerned over the cleanliness of the store, but that seemed insignificant compared to the way that he looked around all in his Blaze-like wonder. He widened his eyes at the rows of fish tanks and twiddled with the little feather cat toys at the ends of the isles.

Granted, he seemed much more immersed in the kinds of aquatic plants and moss balls that they had rather than the cute bunnies and mice, but still, you couldn’t help but shy away when he caught your glances.

“Glad that I joined ya Blossom.”

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

There was something about Minho that felt like a lullaby. He wore a lavender colored sweater when he arrived at your doorstep: of course it was pooling into paws at his hands as always. The collar dipped deep enough for you to see the tops of his collarbones, and they were gorgeous and curved. His eyes wrinkled a little under his wire framed glasses when he would smile: that of which would also look like the little grin of a bunny. Effortlessly his brown hair kissed his forehead.

He would speak softly and carefully, and listen to everything that you had said to him as if it was the most important thing in the world. His feet were too big for your spare pair of house slippers and he had a tiny hole in his khaki pants right by the waistline. Minho greeted Bomi with a tiny “aigoo” and she let him sweep her up into his arms where he bounced her lightly. She would never let you do that. Traitor.

“Your home is very...you.” He had complimented. You had no idea what that meant.

His lips were pink and glossy with drips of that peach soju that you had bought in the hopes that he would like it. It turned out that it was his favorite flavor.

You wanted so badly to kiss the peachy flavor off of those lips.

He had laughed a little at your array of cat-related home decor, laughing the most at your dish towels that had two fat cats on them that looked like chefs. He said that he had seen a movie once and the characters reminded him of that.

The two of you sat outside on your patio on the wire chairs that would imprint designs into the back of your legs. The air mixed with the smell of your citronella candle and the scent of the roasted duck that you had attempted to make for him. You really shouldn’t have tried to make something for the first time when it was also his first time coming over.

Maybe he was just being nice, but he had said it tasted good.

It did not taste good, but rather harshly of salt and too much rosemary.

Bomi rubbed at his legs under the table and even hiked herself up on two feet to peek into his lap. As much as it hurt to see your traitorous cat act this way, it was because of this that you knew he was someone that you could trust. Minho gave her head scratches and insisted to help you with the dishes--a mistake on his part. It took all of two minutes before you had a mishap with the detachable sink head, and soaked through his sweater.

“Maybe I just shouldn’t trust you with water then?” He chuckled while dabbing away at the fabric.

“That probably would be best.”

Minho was a lullaby in the way that he laid down next to you on that quilt you had made in a crafting class some years ago. All of the patches were disjointed the the color scheme made very little sense, but it was stull functional. He kept his hands folded to his chest with reverence. His chest rose and fell calmly, and his body heat floated over to you. His presence was something familiar and still something that you couldn’t place.

“Are you getting tired?” He asked you gently.

You lied, “No, just resting my eyes.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have had that much soju then.” He joked into the open air.

“How much longer?”

“At least thirty more minutes.”

He was so warm. Warmer than any chill of the spring night.

First you would have kissed the peachy flavor on his lips. Then you would have cuddled all up into that lavender sweater which you imagined to be even softer than cat’s fur--or rather--it looked like it could have been.

“Do you know any constellations?” Minho pointed up to the sky.

“Not really.”

“Well, that one is Ursa Major...and over there...that’s Leo. Can you see that it sort of looks like a triangle?”

“Yes.” You had said, but really you didn’t have a clue, you liked it more hearing him talk about them. “Where did you learn about constellations?”

“Long time ago. I think it was in school, but, that was so, so long ago.”

The cool grass under the quilt rustled when he had leaned back up to sit, then dragged quilt attempt #2 over your body and his.

“It was getting a little cold.” He quietly announced.

His simple action of doing just that heated up your whole body now knowing that the two of you were trapped together, inches apart.

Minho tucked his arms to prop up his head. “Thank you for cooking for me. I haven’t had someone other than my mother cook like that for me in a long while.”

“I’m sorry...I know that it was pretty inedible--”

“--And thank you for allowing me to come over too. I...realize...I don’t really know what I’m doing that well. I kind of invited myself...I hope that I’m not putting pressure on you or anything...”

“--Doing what well?” Your heart leapt into your throat.

“I just haven’t done this in a really long time.”

This.

What the hell was “this?”

“I’m not following...”

“Letting myself do something fun. Something nice and relaxing.”

You had formed a painful little “Oh.” on your lips. Your idea of this was different from his after all.

“--Something nice and relaxing with you.”

Another “Oh.” formed, but this one was a thankful one.

“Can I tell you something?” Minho’s voice was barely in a whisper.

“What is it?” You looked over at him and he was wrapped in the navy blue light of the night. You could have sworn that you could see the faintest inkling of stars in his eyes.

He looked back at you in earnest. “I’ve been...scared, too, since moving back out here.”

“W-why?”

“There was something in me that was telling me that moving out here wouldn’t fix everything, and that I would be stuck forever on those things that happened, and the things that made me unhappy.”

“Minho...what are you saying?”

“-Got my heart broken. Back then. As cliché as the sounds.” He laughed, and it even sounded a twinge embarrassed. “I ran away from it to here. I had figured that it would give me time to get it all back together again.”

“I-I’m so sorry.”

“Running is good and all when you can physically remove yourself from what’s chasing you, but some things...”

Your chest felt heavy. “I know exactly what you’re talking about.”

“You do?”

The first summer cicadas had started their nighttime chant, and their hisses ebbed and flowed like sea waves.

“I feel like...these expectations that my family has of me, my mother...I can’t ever escape them. They’re always there and burned into my head. I think of them even when I don’t want to: get a better job that “contributes”, get married, have grandkids...”

You paused with your own eyes cast up to the sky. The massive expanse seemed unfathomable.

“Why is it that we can’t ever be happy doing the things that are supposed to make us happy?”

The first meteor flew past your eyes with the speed of light, barely slow enough for you to catch it.

The second was a bit slower, and traced after it a millisecond of white spectral dust.

“Did you see that??” Without thinking, you poked once at Minho’s arm.

You couldn’t see, but he had grinned with a weak smile. “I did.”

All at once, the sky was illuminated with brilliant streaks of light and their white hot heads that would fade and dissapear just as quickly as they arrived. They tore through the sky with astonishing speed and you traced the outline of each line as fast as you could.

“There’s so many.” You wondered aloud.

Under the warmth of the haphazard blanket, fingers twisted into yours: careful and tentative, soft and curious.

Minho breathed out, “I feel pretty happy right now.”

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