bloom.
part four of the no strings attached series by @lilystyles
no strings attached masterlist & main masterlist xxx
authors note part four is hereeeeeee!! IM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO WRITE THIS. i was drowning in assignments these past few months which is why it has taken me so long. i am now on my winter break yay, so i should be able to update more regularly thanks for the patience and love XXXX
brief description y/n and harry go to dinner and something stronger blooms between them.
warnings! smut (f!receiving, blowjob, sex, cumplay, loss of virginity but is all very romantic) unprotected sex (pls wear a condom), swearing, alcohol abuse, overall just a mature read. around 11.6k words. (she's longggg omg)
inexperinced!virgin!reader x fwb!harry
* * * * *
Harry and Y/n had managed to keep their new ‘relationship’ a secret for a little over a month which Y/n was very proud of, normally she couldn’t lie to save her life. He’d come over most weekends or she’d go to his and they would eat food, sometimes they’d cook sometimes they’d go out, they would watch films, sometimes at home sometimes in the cinema. But by the end of the night after a few wines and with an old soul record playing in the background they’d pleasure each other.
It was simply perfect. Whatever, wherever they were at was the happiest they had ever been. Except maybe the few Christmases they’d had together as roommates.
Y/n had never thought she could enjoy someone else’s company this much. Within time she grew the most comfortable she ever had been with someone. He’d seen her naked, he’d seen her cry, he’d seen her bleed, and he knew all of her secrets. She felt so free around him. It was a wonderful feeling, she only wished she could tell her other friends about it and how great it was. How happy she was, how happy he made her. This free feeling? Did they have that too? Is that why they’d always encouraged her to get a boyfriend and put herself out there?
But she knew it was just easier this way — their own little bubble. Keeping it their little secret. Sometimes things went to shit once they were said out loud. She’d noticed that and was worried if she shared it with them he would disappear.
They still hadn’t had sex yet, Harry wanted to wait for the right moment for that. He knew that virginity was a silly construct but he still wanted her first time having sex to be something she wouldn’t regret. He couldn’t live with himself if he ruined that for her. He didn’t want it to feel forced and corny and like it was this dramatic live changing event but he didn’t want it to be in the back of a car in a dark car park either. He wanted it to be a nice moment. She’d been ready for weeks, since that first night even. But when Harry told her waiting was the right thing to do she listened and was grateful for his delicate handling of the situation. He was more experienced so she listened.
She trusted him.
When Harry got a text from James that day that the guys all wanted to go on a camping trip for a long weekend in the middle of spring, he called her immediately.
After a few rings, she answered. “Hi, Haz!” She sounded breathless but chirpy.
“Hey, Lovie.” He could hear clatter in the background. She must’ve been up to something. A loud bang echoed in his ear.“What are you doing, Cheeky?” He said in a playful tone.
She giggled. “I’m attempting to perfect a cookie recipe. I had a bit of an anxious day, so I needed a distraction.”
“Why didn’t you just call me? I’m happy to distract you.” He said softly, grabbing a jumper from his cupboard. He was about to ask if he could come over, not that he needed to at this point.
She wondered for a moment if he meant that in a sexual way or not. Because everything had begun to blur. Sure most of the time when she saw Harry they’d pleasure each other, but sometimes he just held her warmly in his arms. Sometimes they did nothing at all. What did it all mean? Sometimes he felt like a boyfriend, most of the time actually.
“I’m sure you have a life outside of being my distraction.” She said stubbornly, mixing the batter in the large bowl. Her arm was aching. The smell of spices and ginger filled her nose, her biggest struggle when baking was usually not eating all the batter.
“Not really. So, can I come over?”
She giggled again, softly. “Of course. See you in 20.”
“Getting in the car as we speak.”
“Drive safely please.”
He smiled. “Always, Bun.”
When he arrived at her apartment he barely had to knock before she had already opened the door.
“Hi, H!” She chirped.
“Hi, Petal.”
She opened the door wide for him. “Come in.” She was in a pair of boxers he had left behind a few nights ago they were dark blue and a tight old One Direction shirt. She’d supported them in the early stages of their career, that shirt was from way back when. She was covered in flour and other cooking ingredients, looking as adorable as ever. Wearing those ridiculous bunny slippers of hers.
He shut the door behind him following her to the kitchen where something good was cooking. She was making another batch of her cookies (she was famous for them).
“I thought you could give these to Gem and Anne when you see them, you said they were coming down last time you were ‘round. Of course, you don’t have to. But I miss them, and they used to like my cookies.” She said shyly, suddenly feeling embarrassed. He never took his eyes off her.
He grinned stepping closer to her with his arms wide. “You are the cutest.”
She blushed.
“You should come to dinner.” He pulled her into his chest, chin resting on her head. Smelling the scent of her delicious shampoo as he squeezed the plump flesh of her arms and shoulders.
She looked up, arms still wrapped around his hips, “That isn’t very friends with benefits of us though, is it?” Tucking her head into his chest, he smelt so good today. Like every day. The woodsy fresh bodywash he used was still very strong on his skin and his hair was extra fluffy. He must have showered this morning.
“I’d have asked you, either way, Love. Y’know Mum adores you. Gem too.”
She looked up. “Okay….When is it?”
“Tonight, that’s sort of why I wanted to come over. And, did you see the text James sent?”
She shook her head and walked over to the living room and found her phone buried underneath the dozens of blankets. She now saw the chat flooded with texts.
JAMES
Hi guys! Is everyone free next weekend for the long weekend? Me and Daisy have planned a lil getaway at the beach. We would love to go all together like the old times. Bring a tent and gear. X
DAISY
and bring your party pants!!
OLIVE
I’m so there. :))
FINNLEY
I’ll check, I’ve got exams coming up.
But fingers crossed.
PENNY
i am definitely coming !!!
MICHAEL
Yes bet bet. Sounds like a plan
JAMES
Harry? Y/n? U two in?
She looked up. “Sounds nice, a lil’ getaway.” She liked the idea of doing nothing with Harry by the beach and amongst nature.
“I’ll go if you go.”
That made her smile and she looked down before typing.
me and harry shall be there xxx
After that, Harry managed to get roped into helping finish the cookie decorating before Y/n rushed off to get ready for dinner. Harry had booked a swanky restaurant, so Y/n felt like she had to dress up just a bit more than their usual dinners.
Once she was out of the shower, she stared annoyedly in her towel at her options.
She remembered when Harry used to come home from touring and Anne would throw these big but intimate dinner parties and invite all his family and friends. Y/n could just wear jeans to that and they’d all bundle up around a bonfire after dinner and look at the stars. Harry and her would share a wine or two and it was simple. Harry loved how normal he felt with Y/n, even the memory of her was enough to ground him. He was glad she was back in his life, and he felt now he was ready for it and ready for her.
Harry came down the hall to her room and sat down on her bed grabbing one of her teddy bears and cuddling it in his big arms. The sight was rather funny, this big tattooed man and a little pink teddy bear cuddled up in pretty feminine soft-looking bedsheets. “I’ve got to change and pick some gifts up from back home before we go, is that okay?” He asked watching her dig through her clothes.
She nodded. “Of course! But what should I wear? What do you think?”
She was oddly nervous about tonight even though every Christmas when she went home to Holmes Chapel she went over to Harry’s Mums house for a drink and sometimes had the odd text with Gemma. She was still in contact with that side of her life it was just now she was Harry’s date to dinner. But she wasn’t his girlfriend but they’d think she was and what did that mean? Anne and Y/n’s mother had wanted them to get married for years now since they were around 10. Would this be the new talk of the town between all the mothers? She knew it was likely. Gemma was probably bringing her partner Michal, so it felt really official or something.
He watched her, her eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as she stared at her cupboard.
“I’m just wearing a shirt and slacks. Simple.” He replied. “Don’t think too hard about it, you’ll look pretty in anything, Bun.”
“Harry, I bet all of your outfit is custom-made Gucci. I can’t compete with that!”
He bit his lip to hold back his laugh. “Lovie, calm down. Don’t work yourself up. Just wear somethin’ you feel nice in. If yeh’ worried about me caring that’s silly, I like yeh’ in anythin’.”
She remained frowning and started to dig through the dresses she had. She found one hidden amongst them, she wore it to her birthday once. It was a long golden slinky dress with lace detail on the hem and neckline. It was very delicate. And even though it was spring she knew it would still be chilly that evening so she grabbed a long brown coloured coat from off the door that she had been wearing most days to Uni. It was warm and woollen and she loved it.
Harry busied himself by scrolling through his phone while she got ready. It didn’t take her long, once she was happy with her outfit and had added a light pink scarf, a handbag and some shoes she went to the bathroom to do her makeup and hair.
She had already blow-dried her hair before and it was in a lovely natural state so she didn’t bother changing it. For makeup she kept it simple, only enhancing her features. When she was ready and came out Harry looked up upon the clicking of her heels.
His cheeks turned pink at the sight. Jesus. “Beautiful, Bun.” He felt no words could do it justice.
She blushed a bit too at those words and that admiring expression of his. “Thanks, Harryyy. Ready? I’ll get the cookies and lock up and then we can go, okay?”
He nodded at her standing up and following her lead as she’d put the cookies into a tin.
Once she grabbed everything else she needed they got in Harry’s car and headed to his house.
Y/n was browsing Harry’s playlists and noticed a new one in there which was unnamed only with a pink heart as the title. He wasn’t really paying attention to her on his phone, his hand was carelessly thrown on her thigh and the other the wheel, they were both pretty silent, it was calm. So he didn’t notice her scrolling through the songs — it was this soft, romantic, sleepy, soul playlist. Full of a lot of her favourites and it felt like a cosy evening. So she put it on and placed his phone back into her lap.
Harry’s ears pricked up at the sound of the song, she’d found the playlist. Was it obvious it was for her? Well, about her?
“You found it.” He whispered, the song was only softly playing as background noise. He didn’t have the radio up loud. So she heard him.
“Yeah, it’s like all m’favs.” She said, smiling gently.
He contemplated saying it, feeling his heart speed up as he spoke, “I made it f’you.”
She finally met his eyes and gave him this dazzling toothy grin. “Aw, that’s nice, Haz. Really sweet.” She leaned over kissing his cheek. She laughed when her lipstick left a stain and she rubbed it. “Sorry.”
He just gave her thigh a squeeze in reply worried he might reveal himself if he said anything else and a few songs later they arrived at his house. He told Y/n she could wait in the car because it would take him 10 minutes max to get dressed.
She nodded and scrolled through her Instagram while she waited and then replied to a text from her Mum before she turned her phone off and waited in silence. He was quick as promised and when he came out the door he was looking devilishly handsome.
She felt her body react to it. Her cheeks turned pink, her pupils grew in want, and her hands itch to touch him. Her heart was hammering against her chest and she felt a familiar twist of want in her stomach. He was in a silky black shirt that was long and tight on his muscular arms, his buttons were undone and showed off his tattoos. Which reminded her of when he had his long hair and he was this pure sex god rockstar of a man. He had a pair of black flared pinstripe trousers to match and a pair of black boots with red detailing. He looked so good she wanted to faint. She felt her thighs squeeze in want and she sighed at herself, don’t be such a perv!
He had added some extra rings and jewels from his usual bundle. Something caught her eye. It was this golden pendant with a moon and star on it, she’d bought it for him for his 19th birthday, when they first started living together. She hadn’t seen him wear it in a long time, she’d forgotten she’d even bought the thing. Y/n remembered buying it. Harry had been with her, they were at a market full of random things looking for cheap furniture for their place.
They were walking past this large jewellery stall and both admired the rings and style. It was different from the normal places they’d seen. They had tonnes of it. A glint of something gold had caught her eye, it was that pendant. It was one of the only gold among the silver. She touched it in admiration and Harry peered over her shoulder, saying it was pretty and he liked it. Harry said he thought it was cool and matched a lot of his other jewellery. But without much thought, he walked off to look at some couches in the next stall.
Y/n knew his birthday was coming up and asked the jeweller how much it was. He was this eccentric gentleman, who smiled at her. Showing the matching ring to her which was very dainty and feminine that she didn’t even think would fit Harry’s fingers. She explained that she just wanted the necklace as a gift for someone. But he said that he would not sell either piece without the other. At the time he explained it was made for two lovers, so they’d always be together, but Y/n replied it was just for a friend, truly believing he was just trying to get more money out of her. But now looking back she and Harry loved wearing them and matching. It cost her more money than she could afford at the time but she was drawn to it. Something magical in the crafting of them.
Her hand reached over to touch his neck fingers touching the chain. “Oh, my god. I forgot about that.”
He grinned. “Found it the other day.”
She wished she knew where the ring was. “I remember that ol’ thing.” Sometimes when she was in the crowd or if Harry knew she was watching the show, in the early stages that is, he’d lift up the pendant and kiss it or touch his heart where it lay. Especially if he was playing a song Y/n liked (or that was secretly about her). Sweet Creature was one he wrote for her.
When they arrived in a rather fancy area of London with very expensive restaurants and hotels, Y/n could’ve laughed. They’d both grown up okay, but they were just normal working-class families and they weren’t spoiled. She wished she could go back and tell young Harry who was always working away on his singing that’d he’d be here. She wished she could run into the bakery and tell him he’d be the most famous man ever. Tell both the young kids who were working selling pastries and bread that they would be here in a short time, together.
The valet collected the car and Harry slinked his hand into hers when they stepped out, and Y/n thought she spotted someone giving them a double-take. They quickly entered the restaurant, and the concierge took their coats for them.
The restaurant was warm and heated, with all these crisp white tablecloths, mood lighting, and crystal glasses. The waiter immediately guided them to their table which was a fancy booth and Anne was already there waiting. She got up and instantly pulled Y/n into her arms.
“I’m so glad Harry brought you, Darling! It’s so good to see, look at that gorgeous face of yours.” She squeezed her cheeks and kissed her forehead leaving a big mauve-coloured lipstick stain there. Y/n grinned so big and pulled her back in for another hug whispering sweet comments.
Anne was so lovely, Y/n had always loved her. She made one of her favourite people, and it made sense why he was so respectful and kind. So perfect.
Harry was next to be welcomed, bending down to be fussed over in her arms. Anne questioned if he’d been eating enough and began a tangent of worried remarks. He was such a momma’s boy, he could only smile gently at her.
When Gemma and Michal arrived they greeted Y/n too with hugs and kind comments and once their meals arrived all her tensions eased. She now knew she had been silly to worry. Harry’s family were just as lovely as him. She knew that already and this pressure of her being his date was stupid. They already liked her, they knew her, and they’d seen her grow up beside Harry. She was just Y/n and he was just Harry.
They ate wonderful dinners and drank expensive brands of champagne, along with some fancy French dessert Y/n had never tried that Harry insisted she ate. It was a perfect night and she was sad to say goodbye to them all. When Harry dipped to the bathroom for a minute Anne pulled her aside.
“I’m so glad you two are getting closer again, you’ve always been my favourite of his girlfriends. And these cookies! So delicious, I love when you send them over at Christmas time. Harry steals the whole thing of them, usually. No one can keep their hands off them. Ever thought of selling them?”
“Thank you, Anne. Thanks for letting me come, I hope I didn’t intrude on your family night.” She didn’t have the heart to tell her otherwise. She wished she was one of his girlfriends and she was glad someone appreciated her cookies.
When Harry back came from the bathroom he saw Y/n hugging his mum, and his heart melted at the sight.
Y/n was good with people, and his family had always loved her. She was so gentle and well-mannered. Their Mums were very close too which helped. When they had drifted Anne still updated him that Y/n was doing well, and he was always pleased to hear that.
Harry said his goodbyes too and promised them something about bringing Y/n to another family catch-up, she just smiled warmly with pink cheeks at the idea. She was leaning into his side, his big arm draped over her shoulders as he kissed her temple.
The valet handed Harry the keys and they slid into his car before driving back home finally. It was around 10 in the evening and Y/n was absolutely blissful, her hand had found his lap stroking his thigh gently as a light patter of rain began to fall down on the windows.
“You were wonderful tonight. Mums’ always loved you though, Petal.” His eyes were on the road but he was grinning anyway — unable to contain it. He felt so fucking happy.
She grinned softly. She was pretty sure she was all heart eyes for him right now. She imagined she probably looked like one of those cartoons where the guy sees a pretty woman walking down the road and his eyes pop out and his head starts spinning.
“Thanks for bringing me, Harry. It was lovely. I had a really nice night.”
He looked at her as if to say ‘duh’, “Of course, I’d bring ya’ I know we didn’t talk for a while there, but I thought of you a lot. And y’know Mum, loves ya’. You’re very important to us all.”
She looked away from him blushing down at her free hand before nodding, and softly replying. “I thought of you too. Why didn’t you come to Mum’s New Year’s party? I waited for you the whole night…”
He sighed thinking back to what she was talking about.
“I was in Japan.” He replied. “I really did contemplate flying back just for the party, but I wasn’t sure if y’wanted me too.”
She looked over at him. “I didn’t know that.”
“I know.” He replied softly.
The rest of the car journey was quiet, the gentle hum of the radio played along with the sound of rain softly hitting the glass. Harry didn’t speak he just moved his hand onto his thigh where hers rested, giving it a squeeze.
It didn’t take long to arrive back at his house, Harry opened the door for her and they quickly rushed inside to avoid the rain it had grown heavier and more wild. Y/n stepped inside first with a sigh, and Harry was not far behind. His hands slid onto her hips and lower stomach, and he kissed her neck just below her ear.
She giggled, her hands finding his. He began to whisper sweet nothings to her but was cut off by her phone ringing. He grunted in annoyance but she said she had to take the call.
He didn’t let go of her, clinging to her childishly and nuzzling his head into her soft shoulder.
“Hi, Mum.” She said into the phone, Harry paused his touch.
He could hear the sound of Y/M/N over the phone muffled.
“Anne already told you?” Y/n wanted to laugh. She looked at Harry who sighed, of course, Anne had already rung Y/n’s Mum.
“No. We aren’t dating Mum. We are just friends.” She sighed. Harry chuckled.
They weren’t just friends now. Friends don’t make each other cum, they don’t kiss, or see each other naked, friends don’t do what they do. They were way past that line now. He knew her inside and out and now he knew her more intimately than anyone ever had. Harry wondered if he’d ever have the balls to approach the subject of their relationship and where he stood.
“Mum, we were never dating. Please stop telling people he’s my ex-boyfriend.” She laughed. Her Mum was a funny old thing.
“Okay, I gotta go now. Bye, Mum.”
The muffled voice spoke again.
“Yep. Yep. Okay. Love you too. Bye.” She let out a big sigh hanging up the phone.
Harry was taking off his shoes and belt, he seemed sleepy but content. He was sat on the couch, he’d turned the mood lighting on. It was this warm glowy orange hue that washed over the room. He looked up upon hearing the end of the conversation.
“What is it with Mums?” He teased her as leant back against the plush white sofa. Y/n described it as sitting on a cloud. She napped on it all the time. His legs were all spread out and his head was thrown back.
Harry was so fucking hot. All the time. Did he never get tired of looking so handsome?
She shrugged, walking over to sit beside him and threw her legs up so she was laying on his lap. Her cheek rested on his thigh, and Harry’s painted fingernails scratched the roots of her hair. She made a little content sigh, letting her eyes flutter shut. Him touching her was like heaven.
“Mm. Feels nice, Harry.” He let out a little chuckle. She was practically purring from his touch, all curled up on his lap. Her hands were resting on his knee, and he found himself admiring them. So dainty and delicate. Sometimes he pondered adding a ring to that finger of hers. He thought she’d be a very good person to grow old with. She loved routines and nights in, but she was witty and intelligent, though she loved simplicity she was definitely not boring. She kept you on your toes.
He wanted to stay like this forever. She was practically falling asleep in his lap, like putty in his hands. She made the odd sigh or moan in contentment every now and then as he let her destress.
She had been a bit stressed with Uni and her life at the moment, the work of it all was hard right now, so he wanted to do anything to help her calm down. The dinner had been a nice distraction for her, and she seemed a lot happier that evening than the text he had received from her that morning.
She rolled over to her other side so her face was near his hip nose grazing against his skin which smelt so fucking good — he used this expensive woodsy cinnamon soap it made her want to lick him all over. He continued his slow and delicate scratch on her head and his other hand rubbed her exposed back. Her hands moved to under his shirt, trailing along his fern tattoos and grazing the wisps of hair that lead underneath his waistband. Her nose grazed his skin as she tiredly nuzzled into him, feeling her eyes shut. She felt so safe in his lap and arms.
It was so domestic. They had become so domestic. He wished every day he could come home and say something cheesy like ‘Honey, I’m home!’ and scoop her up into his arms and kiss her silly. He longed for nights like this watching TV as she rested on his chest, moving with the rise and fall of his chest. He wanted the mornings too. When she grumpily didn’t want to wake up unless it was from kisses and a coffee.
“Do y’want some wine?” He asked her, his voice all raspy.
They’d only each had a glass of champagne with dinner which had long since faded. Leaving them very sober.
“Sure. Red?” She asked sitting up. Her hair was slightly messy from his playing with it.
He nodded his hand finding her chin and lifting it up. “Whatever y’want, Lovie.” He kissed her forehead before getting up and moving to the kitchen. She finally took her heels off and removed her scarf placing them on the floor. She stood up, feeling the soft rug on her sore feet.
She leaned down to the coffee table lighting some candles of his. She lit a soap-smelling one and then a lavender one. Then once she was happy with that she walked over to his records and looked for something nice to play.
She stumbled upon a Marvin Gaye one and she giggled to herself. It was kind of cheesy love making music, so she picked that one. She placed the record down on the turn table part and placed the stylus down. It began to hum a gentle sultry song and she moved back to the couch.
When Harry came back she was laying on the couch, spread out as she hummed along to Marvin Gaye. In his hands, he had a bottle red all the way from New Zealand and two pink-tinted wine glasses.
He laughed at her. “Look at yeh, Minx.” He teased.
She smiled up at him, her dress was hiked up and she looked like the embodiment of idleness. She sat up so he could join her and he poured them both a glass.
They only had two glasses each before Y/n started to droop tiredly against his shoulder. He found her particularly adorable like that. When he finished his final sip he helped her up so they could go to sleep, he blew out the candles too. She followed him lazily up the stairs and into the bedroom, arms wrapped around his waist and tummy.
He found a random Fleetwood Mac shirt and some grey tracksuit pants for her to wear in one of his messy drawers.
She changed out of the dress and was so happy to get her bra off. It was this pretty lacy one that had Harry frothing at the mouth. Her undies followed once he began to change as well. He found a pair of black silky sleeping pants and didn’t bother with a top.
She followed him to the ensuite and found the cotton pads and makeup remover he had just for her. She began to wipe off the makeup and was glad to be rid of it. He was brushing his teeth silently beside her and she watched him through the mirror. He caught her and gave her a wink.
She just made a little kissy face in response. He smiled against the toothbrush, a rim of foam around his lips. Once she was done with all that she threw the rubbish into the small bin beside the toilet.
“Do you have face wash?” She said quietly.
He nodded, spitting into the sink. “Just up there.” He pointed to the cupboard which was also the mirror.
She opened it, rising on her tip toes for a second.
“Blue.” He replied. She squinted trying to find the blue bottle, he had an array of skincare products. She saw a big dark blue bottle, she reached for it and he nodded showing her that was the right one.
They both washed their faces together and he smiled watching it foam up against her skin. Once they had washed their faces Y/n finally brushed her teeth and they went to bed.
She sighed slipping into the big fluffy bed. He had some pale blue sheets on this week. He slid in beside her wrapping his strong arms around her and pulling her into him. He nuzzled his face into her neck and shoulder, the very slight stubble nipping her skin.
The backs of her thighs pressed against the front of his, her bum pressed up nicely against his soft silky pants and his hands squeezed the soft plump of her tummy in comfort. It wasn’t particularly late, but they loved to be inside Harry’s big bed and just cuddle.
“Y’were just perfect tonight. How someone hasn’t swept y’up and kept yeh I dunno…” He whispered kissing the top of her header, nose brushing against her hair, inhaling her shampoo.
She flushed. “No one’s really tried, H.” He made her heart pick up at the comment. This man and his flattery.
“Lucky f’me. Means I can have ya’ all ta’ myself.” It was meant as a joke, but honestly, he selfishly did want her all to himself. She was so perfect.
She giggled. “Lucky you.”
He squeezed her closer and tighter. She giggled some more, wriggling in his grip. One of his hands moved to her upper thigh. She stopped and leaned into the touch. They didn’t talk they just started to relax into a sleepy silence, the chilly air making them want to bask in each other’s warmth even more.
He kissed her shoulder every now and then soothingly and Y/n shut her eyes. Basking in the feeling of him. His presence made her feel so safe she wanted to sleep often.
“Harry, do you ever think about how long we’ve known each other?” She asked randomly, as his hands continued to rub her body feeling her soft skin against his palms.
“All the time, Petal. Why?” He said softly, his voice was all raspy and gravelly. It made her feel something in the pit of her stomach. He made it even harder for her not to beg for him, this waiting game felt like edging.
“It’s just funny to me how much we have changed, but also how little we have too. I mean we’ve known each other since what? Daycare? And that little boy is still you…”
He understood exactly what she meant. Some things would never change about Harry even with age. Like, he would always be kind and always make an effort. He would always have 3 sugars in his tea unlike, Y/n who would prefer none. He would always enjoy cheesy romance films and love the idea of love. He will always admire old couples walking down the street. And she would always see the more practical side to love.
She thought back to when they were younger teenagers and how he was rather distant from her in the sense that they were in the same friend group but funnily enough never really talked alone. Then she remembered that in their final year at school Harry, who had refused to dance with anyone else, asked Y/n to dance with him because he knew she’d been waiting for the boy she fancied to ask her all night. Sitting all pretty by herself, feeling like her efforts had been a waste. Only to find herself in the hands of him, spinning and laughing underneath the disco ball.
Then in University when they found out they were going to the same place they naturally found an apartment together, with a slight push from their mothers. Who felt at ease knowing their babies would have each other. Which was weird at first but soon they were at a furniture shop testing mattresses and giggling.
She never felt uncomfortable around Harry, but once she was close to him she knew she was done for. She knew that for the rest of her life, she’d want him. Crave him close to her. He kind of felt that too, but in a different sense.
It was more like they kept finding each other unplanned. During school they’d had so many lessons together, sitting with each other quietly. After school, his Mum had her family over for a meal. Then sometimes at the bakery, where they served familiar faces, and between breaks they sipped hot chocolate together. At the end of year dance Y/n and Harry were the only two without dates, and so he danced with her. When University rolled around no one else was going, and of course, Y/n had accidentally by luck of the draw picked the same school as him. They both happened to need a roommate and then they were roommates, then finally best friends. It was as simple as that, it just fell into place with her. He never forced anything.
Oh, how he loved those memories of being her roommate and best friend. Whenever he thought back to those times he couldn’t help but grin. Neither had ever anticipated anything that would happen — him famous, and her here with him, cuddled in bed.
“It’s like we can’t not be in each other’s lives. You’re always there for me, showing up.” Was all he could manage to say.
It’s true, when they had drifted and he did a tour for his first album she came to a show with her own money.
Anne had called her up explaining in a panic how nervous he was for this tour. It was his first without the band. So, with little thought Y/n went in support because no one else could make it, Anne and Gemma both had stuff they couldn’t back out of. Anne knew Y/n would do it for Harry. Everyone knew she’d do just about anything for him except, well, him.
She was in the front row, dressed in a familiar outfit that took him back in time. It was this lavender dress from their school days. She’d worn it to the dance. It was bouncy and had big puffy sleeves, all short and fluffy.
He hadn’t expected it at all.
He came out, dancing and going wild for one of his louder and more upbeat songs. When he finally greeted the crowd he scanned them and said politely. “Hi, I’m Harry!”
She rolled her eyes. How was he still so devilishly charming?
He spotted something familiar, someone, familiar. Her eyes, her smile, and that dress took him back. Suddenly he felt like he was at home, in Holmes Chapel and he was just singing karaoke with his old friends.
“Y/n?!” He said with a grin. Completely shocked, he shook his head in a puppydog like manner. The few longtime fans in the crowd cheered loudly, knowing her from photos off his Instagram. Anne had a few up on her Instagram too and they seemed to love Y/n in the comments (mainly).
She waved at him. Mouthing, “Hi, H!” She couldn’t contain her smile.
She could see in his eyes how much it meant to him. They got all glassy and soft. Even if they hadn’t spoken in a while she calmed him down immediately. He hadn’t realised how much having her there would calm him.
She was like chamomile tea, a warm bed, all things nice and calming.
“Thank you for being here, for those of you who don’t know, Y/n is a very old friend of mine. We worked together in a bakery.” He jested.
Y/n giggled.
It felt right for him to sing this song next, “This next one is Sweet Creature.”
“I’ll always be there for you, H. You know that.” She said tenderly.
He rolled her around to face him so he could see her pretty face spewing these kind words. This deep pensive look in his eye. “I’m…I’m really glad you’re here with me…in this moment…this time in my life. I never really noticed how mundane life felt until you came back into mine.”
She felt herself melt like ice cream sitting in the blistering sun during a summer day. She kind of wanted to cry at how sweet he was. Harry wasn’t even her boyfriend but shit these feelings. They were real. Her body went even softer in his arms.
She lifted her hands up from her sides to his cheeks pushing his head down so she could lean in and place a kiss on his forehead. His hair smelt delicious like soap and peppermint.
He hadn’t expected that but he felt himself flush pink. The innocent touches are what made him blush the most. She was so gentle with him.
“Oh, Harry.” She sighed, pulling away and tucking a stray curl of his behind his ear. “Me too.”
He smiled leaning forward. “Can I kiss you?”
Y/n rolled her eyes teasingly. “Of course.”
His hands slid around to her back, blunt nails scratching her skin perfectly underneath the Fleetwood Mac shirt. He leaned forward into her lightly pecking her puffy lips, remaining very gentle at first. Her hands moved to his neck fiddling with the hair that rested there as she leaned into him. She threw her leg up to his hip and he moved one of his hands to stroke it gently. It was so soft and romantic.
As the kiss began to deepen she gripped his shoulders trying to press her chest even closer to his wanting to be as close to him as possible. He hummed softly, feeling her tits press into him. Her nipples were hard and he wanted them in his mouth.
“Mm, you’re perfect.” He muttered against her lips.
She smiled into the kiss, and he used that as an excuse to slip his tongue in ever so slightly. That’s when the kiss began to grow more fiery and passionate. He nibbled her lip and pulled her body even closer letting her roll on top of him as she mewled.
Her hips rocked needily against his silky pants and he moved his kisses down her jaw and neck peppering them frenziedly, loving the little whimpers and whines that escaped her lips. Which only spurred him on to continue further down to the top of her chest.
The way she was rocking against him was making him lose his mind. Her hands clawed his chest as she whispered quietly. “Please, Harry.”
This tension had been building for weeks. She wanted him so fucking badly. It was always on her mind, and it was honestly distracting. She’d been trying to write an Essay that morning and all she could think of was him, and in a horny flurry, she imagined him bending her over the desk. Making her scream with pleasure as he often did.
“S’good f’me, Baby.” He breathed out. Hands finding her hips now, forcing them harder against him. Thinking filthy thoughts of him burying himself in her dripping pussy.
Her lips pressed into his shoulder and then slowly moved down the side of his body, kissing along his tattoos, biting and licking some parts of his tanned bare skin. Until she was finally by his waistband, her pink chipped fingernails teased his snail trail of hair that led to underneath the silk. His skin was so soft there.
His eyes became all hooded, animalistic-like. He was looking at her like he wanted to eat her. But he remained calm and gentle with touches. His hands found her hair, all his rings were off so she felt no sting of metal on her skin. His fingers were running through it delicately and moving it away from her beautiful face.
“Prettiest girl in the world.” He muttered and she blushed resting her cheek on his thigh.
“Thank you, Baby.” She sighed.
She only ever let those pet names slip during these moments and it made him so fucking needy for her. He just smiled softly, at ease. “Of course.”
“Can I taste you, H? Please?”
He let his eyes shut and he softly whined as her hand palmed against his pant-covered cock. He was stiff beneath her touch, and she could feel him throbbing at the contact. “You can do whatever you want to me, Angel.”
She giggled teasingly giving his prick a firmer squeeze. “Don’t promise me that. We’ll never leave this bed.”
He took a shaky breath at her words, she was just so fucking hot without even trying. She literally just spoke her mind, and it had him frothing.
“Is that a threat or a promise?” He replied breathily.
He opened his eyes, thinking back to all those nights in school when he’d dreamt of her sexually. He’d felt guilty a lot of the time for it of course, but she was just so fucking pretty and sexy without realising it. Like when they went swimming during the summer and she wore this cute little pink floral bikini, he would go home and in the summer heat, he would imagine it was her wrapped around him. He’d probably wanked to every filthy fantasy he’d ever had. Her sucking him off, maybe him fucking her throat watching tears spill from her eyes. Him eating her pretty pussy and making her feel so good she saw stars. Making love to her softly and romantically as she deserved, and sometimes he thought of fucking her roughly and needily. In different positions for hours. All the ones he could think of. But every time he came, he’d come back to and realise it was just his fist and not her mouth, hand, or precious pussy.
But now she was here in front of him, eyes all big looking up at him, ready and eager to take him into her mouth. She was real and she wanted him.
“Yes, Angel.” He rasped.
These moments always felt surreal to him. Especially because of how well they knew each other, now that they had started to explore each other’s bodies it was the most vulnerable they had ever been. No one would ever know them better than each other.
Which is why her hand that was ghosting over his thick cock made him feel so close already from a mere touch.
She was dream-like.
“Mmm.” He whined. He was sensitive to her touch always, but tonight it was more than usual. They both pulled his pants off together so she could rest between his thighs, her mouth right in front of his leaking pink tip.
She was feeling a bit more vocal tonight. He loved it. “You have such a pretty dick, Harry. So big and veiny.”
He laughed softly, his hand running through his hair which had fallen into his eyes. “You think so?”
“I never really thought I could actually feel that way until I saw yours. It’s so pretty like the rest of you. It makes sense you have such a nice cock, it matches.” This new side to her had him dying in want.
God, he just wanted her so badly. He wanted to feel those pink slick lips around his cock, and watch her take him into her tight throat. Last night he’d even cum to the thought in the shower.
“You’re so sweet to me, Bun.”
She gave a gentle smile in response before shuffling closer to his glistening prick. Pursing her lips slightly as a string of spit dripped landing on the ruddy head, his breath hitched at the contact. His hands gripped the sheets roughly. When she finally leaned down close to him she did a signature kiss like always. The sight alone was enough to make him cum.
“Such a good girl for me, Baby.” He muttered his hands coming up to her hair pulling it away so he could see her adorable face as she kitten licked against his slick shaft. Her face was flushed pink like always when they’d been kissing, so pretty. She clenched her thighs at that comment and he noticed, very well aware now how much she loved his praise. Loved being told she was good for him, because she truly wanted to be good for him.
Leaning down further she fully enveloped his tip into her mouth, her tongue was a welcome contact against him and he whined loudly. “Fuck.” He said softly and involuntarily throwing his head back.
She had gained more confidence since that night on New Year’s Eve, she knew how he liked and had learnt to make him cum in mere minutes now. She had learnt to take most of him in her mouth too. Which she was surprised she could do considering how large he was.
As she swallowed him deeper into her mouth he heard a little choking sound as she went deeper than usual. Her nose grazed his navel and he cried out. She was taking him so fucking deep, the trail of hair tickled her noise.
“Shit, just like that sweet girl, so fucking good, deep. Fuck.”
She began bobbing her head faster and could feel him throb against her tongue, she would never be used to how large she was ever but she had started to learn ways to take him. He moaned loudly, unable to contain himself at her rapid pace. She pulled up for air for a second her hand coming down to stroke his slick cock at the loss of her throat so he wouldn’t miss her touch.
“H, y’can guide my head, it’s okay. I wanna make y’feel good. Move your hips too if that’s what you want.” She said slightly out of breath, spit and precum dribbled down her chin.
He looked at her eyes for reassurance and he saw a content look in them. “Okay, Love, just tap my legs if it’s too much.”
She nodded. “Ok, H.”
He smiled and she moved back down, taking a deep breath before she took him back into her mouth. He sighed, “Ah, mm.”
His hands had moved into her hair holding her head soft yet firm on his cock, when she made it to about halfway around him her tongue was swirling delicately against his engorged prick and he felt so close to cumming already. It had only been a few minutes.
She was struggling to stop her legs from squeezing together, his sounds made her so wet she felt herself dripping down her thighs. He began to gently guide her head into a bobbing rhythm and he felt a drip of precum fall out his head and he knew if they’d kept this up in another few minutes he’d cum.
“Oh god, Y/n, your so fucking perfect taking me like this. Letting me use you.” He uttered, “Such a good girl letting me take your mouth like this. So filthy. My filthy girl.”
She moaned softly against his twitching cock and he whined, pulling her head up off him. She took a large breath in. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” She said quickly.
He shook his head quickly. “No, you were fucking perfect, I just don’t want to cum yet.”
She looked at him, eyes all doe-like and lips sticky with his slick. Cocking her head to the side, “Why not?”
He moved his hands to her shoulders. “Let me take care of you, I wanna make you feel good. You’ve been so good for me today. Such a sweet little thing. Let me take of my sweet girl.”
My sweet girl. Y/n felt her heart skip a beat.
She listened but pouted at his request. Sad his cum wasn’t down her throat. “Harryyy,” She whined.
“What is it, Love, hmm?” But he knew full well what she was whining about. It had been apparent from the first night that Y/n loved his cum. She loved making him cum. In her mouth, on her tits, whatever he wanted. She often daydreamed of it in other places. Harry knew this.
She just continued to pout. “Enough whining. Be good f’me.” He ordered. “Let me take care of you. ”
Her face remained pouty but she spread her legs for him anyway and he yanked her pants down in one motion, she opened her legs for him widely and his hands stroked her thighs feeling the soft skin there. He motioned for her to take her shirt off as well. She threw it across the room.
He moved his hand up to her mouth tapping against her wet lips, he did that when he wanted her to suck on them. She opened her mouth for his fingers making sure to swirl her tongue around them just to tease him a bit. He moved his eyes from her glistening pussy to her mouth and cheeky expression. He pulled them away. The popping noise made him smirk.
“I don’t exactly need the help, you’re already dripping for me.” He teased, running his newly lubricated fingers against her puffy clit.
She moaned as her hips stuttered against his gentle hand. He laughed at her.
She wanted to be embarrassed but this being the millionth time Harry was between her legs she had given up hiding how wet he made her. Most mornings he wanted to start the day that way, right between her soft thighs pressing into his cheeks.
“How could I not be, Harry? You drive me mad.” She replied her hands moving to his hair.
He smirked biting his lip. The heat of his breath made her squirm against him and his nose bumped her swollen clit. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss there. The taste of her was sweet and tangy on his tongue, and he was addicted. He began to lap up all the leaking arousal, making a filthy sound in his silent room.
Her moans were soft and freely escaping her mouth, thighs squeezing against him as she tugged on his soft hair. She felt at complete ease underneath his harsh tongue.
All her stress was melting away with his lick and suck, this was such a good outlet for her worries. She only thought of him. His mouth, his moans, and his prick.
“Harry,” She whimpered at the feel of his firm tongue. “Shit.” She breathed throwing her head back into his pillows, screwing her eyes shut.
She felt his fingers glide up and down against her weeping hole until he finally slipped one inside. Feeling her clench against him firmly, he wished he was inside of her right now. Her velvety walls were so wet against his hand and he felt her dribble onto his hand as he began to speed up his thrusts. He added another finger.
His tongue didn’t stop suckling on her clit and curled his fingers against her, feeling the way her pussy stuttered against his fingers in an irregular clench. A telltale sign she was getting close to the brink of her orgasm.
“Jesus, Harry, how are you s’good at tha’? Think m’gonna cum soon.” She purred as her hips lifted up and her back arched off the bed.
He pulled his mouth back for a moment, his fingers speeding up and going deeper, as he rasped from wet lips. “S’okay Baby, cum for me, let go. Be good n’ cum f’me. I want it.”
She let out a mewling whine, tugging his hair harder. It was as if his words was the final thing she needed before she felt the start of her pleasure rise in her stomach.
He quickly moved his mouth back down and felt her puffy clit throb against his tongue and a drip of her slick fell down his chin as she let out a guttural cry.
A wave of bliss spasmed from her stomach to her stretched-out pussy, and she felt it pulsate over her entire body. Her eyes squeezed shut and she tugged his hair hard enough that he grunted against her.
“M’cumming! Fuck!” She felt lightheaded.
He pulled up for air, pumping his fingers quickly. “Good girl.” He praised breathily. Spent from working hard to make her cum.
When he felt her come down fully from the high of her climax he pulled his fingers out and licked them clean. “Mmm. I love how you taste, Petal. Sweet.”
She let her thighs drop in fatigue and she lifted her hand to her sweating forehead. Her blissed expression made him grin.
“Fucking hell, Harry.” Her tummy clenched at his words.
Her hand grabbed his shoulder and he moved back on top of her pulling her into a chaste kiss. She could taste the tang of herself on his lips. His tongue slid against hers and he tasted of her. She moaned softly into his mouth. He pulled back, “You’re so beautiful.”
She bumped her nose into his. “Harry?”
He kissed her jaw, “Yeah, Love?”
“I want you inside of me. Please.” She sighed, pupils dilated. “I want to be close to you, Harry.”
“Are you sure?”
She mewled. “I want you so bad, Baby. Please.”
How could he say no to her? She was all sweet and whiny, and her naked in his bed. “Okay. I want that too.”
He pecked her lips softly before pulling away. “Gimme one second.”
He got up off the bed and moved over to his bedside table finding a box of matches and lighting the few candles he had there.
She giggled at him. “What are you doing?”
He just grinned, “Making it special, Lovie.”
She felt her chest flutter and a big toothy grin made its way to her face. Harry knew that Y/n was more practical, he was the hopeless romantic out of the two of them. But he wanted to make Y/n feel special, he wanted to be sappy for her.
He got up again walking into his cupboard.
“What else are you up to back there?!” She said with a giggle.
When he came back out he had a bag with something in it. It was hard for her to see because it was dark. She squinted trying to understand.
“Hold on stay there.” He said nipping his lip, he grabbed a handful of contents from the bag. Before throwing them onto the bed around her.
She opened her eyes looking to her sides under the dim light, plucking one up in between her fingers. “Is that rose petals?”
“Yeah.” He smiled, scratching his neck nervously. “I know it’s cheesy, but I wanted you to feel special.”
She couldn’t believe he went to all that effort.
“Anything else?” She prodded.
He smirked. “One more thing.” He pulled something out from behind his back. It was one of those cheap plastic roses and he put the stem in his teeth and raise his brows.
She laughed loudly, gently pushing his shoulder. “You are so corny!”
He pulled the rose out of his mouth, offering it to her goofily, feigning a gentlemanly gesture. “Thank you for allowing me the pleasure of being the first. I feel so lucky. It’s truly a privilege.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh shoosh.”
“I’m serious. I know it’s silly, but I feel grateful that I can be with you in this way. You’re my best friend. You’re very special to me.” He said tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She leaned into the warmth of his palm.
“You’re my best friend, H. I wouldn’t want anyone else to be my first. I trust you.”
He felt his heart swell and he moved back on top of her. His arms were straight beside her head.
“Kiss me please.” She said breathily.
He moved his face closer, nose bumping into hers as he pecked her top lip. She met him in the kiss her hands glided over to his shoulders. Both their eyes fluttered shut.
There was little urgency in their kiss, though Y/n felt herself ache for him but she felt no urge to rush him. Harry always liked to take his time. He used his free hand to slide down to her hip gently squeezing the flesh there.
He started to scatter his kisses down along her jaw and nipped her ear. She sighed softly letting a moan slip in contentment. Her hands moved to his hair softly massaging his head.
His kisses travelled further down to her neck and he sucked harshly against her nipping the soft skin, she hissed in pleasure and he licked back over the spot to soothe her. Her pretty sighs of contentment made him smile against her skin.
His lips grazed further down across her chest and he could hear the pounding of her heart.
“Are y’nervous, Bun?” He asked, eyes looking up to meet hers.
She looked down at him. “A little but, I don’t need to be do I?”
“No, it’s just me.”
She smiled, moving a curl away from his forehead, “Just Harry.”
“Exactly, just me. But you know that if you wanna stop at any time you tell me. Or if it hurts, or for any reason just say it and I’ll stop. We can just cuddle, I won’t mind.” He replied.
“I know, I will.” She said.
“Good girl.” He kissed her heaving chest as he moved further down lapping her nipple up into his mouth.
She squirmed her hips against the thigh that rested between her legs, he could feel how wet she was against his bare skin. “Ah,” She cried softly.
His free hand massaged the tit that wasn’t in his mouth softly. Her back arched into his touch. “Oh, Harry, you are so good at that. Fuck.”
He chuckled lightly moving back up to her face. “You ready?”
She nodded. “Mhmm.”
He kissed her forehead in response, pulling off her.
“Where are you going?” She grabbed his arms.
“To get a condom.”
“No, it’s okay,”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He felt his prick twitch at her words.
“Okay.”
Her legs wrapped around his waist and he moved his free hand down to grab ahold of himself. She felt the head of his cock pulsating against her sensitive clit. “M’ gonna go slow, okay?”
She nodded, her chest heaving into his. “Mmkay.” She breathed.
He dragged the tip down to her weeping hole, hissing at the contact of it.
“You okay?” She asked.
He pressed his forehead into hers. “Yeah, you?”
She nodded.
That was enough reassurance for him to start to slip inside, his cock was so heavy in need. Even though he had gotten her more comfortable and stretched for him with his fingers it still stung as he pushed inside.
Only the head of him was inside and she already felt so stretched.
“S’big.” She muttered.
He was going very slowly, his eyes trained on her face, and the pinched expression she was sporting. Worried that it was too painful. Knowing he was rather large.
He grabbed her hand and squeezed it, and she squeezed back. “Keep going, please.” She said.
He nodded in reply, slowly pushing his hips further. She sighed in discomfort, feeling the veins of him against her. She clenched and he hissed. Pushing further, he felt his cock splitting her open.
He noticed her eyes were glassy and a tear slipped from her eye as she bit her lip.
“Do you want me to stop?” He asked rushedly.
She shook her head. “No, keep going, just stings a bit.” She tried to explain.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded, “Mhm.”
He rocked forward and he felt him slip into her further. “M’nearly there, Love,” He soothed, kissing her temple.
When he rutted one final thrust his balls pressed against her ass. They both whimpered at the contact.
Her eyes were dilated as she felt completely full of him. “Shit, Harry.” Her legs were wrapped around his lower back holding him close.
“You’re so tight, fuck me,” He whined. She was clenching rythmically around his throbbing prick.
“You can move,” She knew that soon the pain would become pleasure, it would melt away soon, it was already beginning too.
He buried his face in the side of her neck, smelling her perfume and natural scent as he moans grew louder muffled by her shoulder. His thrusts began shallow and slow and she whined loudly. Her arms wrapped around the expanse of his back and she scratched along his shoulderblades.
He hissed at the pain, loving the sting.
“Harry,” She cried out when he started to speed up into her, ramming against her sensitive spongey spot that made her lose her mind, he was the only one who could reach that deep inside of her. She felt him all the way in her stomach. She was already sensitive from her previous orgasm and was keening at the feeling of his slow needy rutting.
He whined at the feel of her clamping down on him. “Fuck, Y/n.”
The pain had subsided to pleasure, the sting hardly noticeable now. She squeezed his shoulder, “Feels good, H.”
He started to speed up now, pounding into her at a ruthless speeed. “Shit, Baby, feel s’good on m’cock.”
He was needily moving into her, as his head remained buried by her neck breathing in the delicious sent of her. It had been a long time since he’d had sex and since he had only been with Y/n for these few months now he’d only had blowies or handjobs, which were great don’t get him wrong, but nothing and I mean nothing compared to her wet tight pussy. God, he’d dreamed of it. Nights and nights he’d lay awake dreaming of it. Dreamed of burying himself in there deeply, and the little sounds it would make.
He knew the right thing to do was to wait, and he was so glad he did. But it meant he was worried he might cum inside her already, the tension building all this time meant he was so pent up. He just wanted to release all his sexual frustrations from these past few months. She was so perfect against his cock, like it was made to wrap around him.
“Like this pussy was made for me.” He rambled.
“I can feel you in my tummy, H.” She whined shutting her eyes, and he pulled up from her should moving his hand to press onto the now bulging flesh of her tummy. With each pump he felt her clench against his prick and saw the faint bulge of his cock. He could feel himself with each thrust, as they both moaned.
He moved that hand from her tummy down lower to her swollen clit that was begging for attention. Rubbing harsh circles and her hips twitched. “Oh god, Harry,”
He wanted to feel her cum on his cock, he was desprate for the feeling, he could already tell she was getting closer to the brink from the stimulation on her puffy senstive clit and his thick prick pounding into her. The clamping of her pussy was growing irregular and when his thrusts went particularly deep inside of her, her eyes rolled back.
She felt euphoric, this white blistering hot feeling was shooting through her from head to toe.
She was honestly surprised how good he made her feel, when she was younger and all her friends were losing their virginities they told her it hurt and that it was awkward. Or that they didn’t cum, and there was no foreplay. She had expected that Harry would know what he was doing, but even that didn’t live up to this moment. She had also known that it may not be as pleasurable until later on but she was feeling like she was on cloud fucking nine.
“You’re so pretty, such a pretty little thing.” He mumbled as he placed some kisses down her neck and along her collarbone.
She mewled her back arching into him. “Oh, fuck,” she whispered with a slight disbeleif in her eyes, “think you’re gonna make me cum, Baby.”
He watched her with a sultry grin, as her eyes screwed shut and the hands that were on his back started to scratch along the tan flesh once again much sharper. “Don’t stop,” She panted.
“Such a good girl f’me. Y’gonna come on my cock?” He asked teasingly, with a pant.
She could only whine in response, biting her lip at the intensity.
“Atta’ girl. Be a good girl and cum on m’cock.” He praised.
She started to shake, the feeling of his fingers still on her clit was pushing her to her orgasm. Her tummy clenched and she couldn’t contain her hips from squirming up into his. This intense wave of bliss rushed through her as waves of pleasure melted from her chest to her stomach all the way down to her throbbing pussy that was wrapped around him.
Her heart was thumping in her chest as her entire body twitched in delight and climax. His prick never stopped it's pounding as he let her orgasm ride out. It was longer than the first one and like nothing she had ever felt before. She’d only dreamt of this kind of pleasure and usually Harry was the one giving it too her. She felt like it was an out of body experience, her head became lightheaded and stars appeared in her vision. She hadn’t even heard her self crying out, until she came back too.
He slowed down to allow her a moment to catch her breath. Her pussy felt so senstive that even these more gentle and tame strokes had her basically sobbing with pleasure.
“I’m close, Sweet girl,” He hissed and he began to speed up once more now his thrusts were sloppy and an uneven rhythm. Her orgasm had made him lose any last bit of control he had.
She could barely speak she was so spent. “Please,” She didn’t know what exactly she was begging for.
He pushed his lips into hers and trapped her in a kiss, her hands found their way into his thick hair which was coated in a light dampness from sweat. She moaned against them and he was whimpering into her swollen lips. He pulled his lips off hers for a moment as he whimpered a desprate, “Gonna’ cum.”
She managed to breath out a soft, “Cum for me Harry,”
The delicacy of her voice made him lose it and he felt his cock twitch in release, hot spurts of his cum shot up inside her and she felt him fill her up completely. He whimpered the most despratelty she’d ever heard and his head fell into her neck. “Fuck,” He breathed.
Her pussy was still clenched around him tightly. “That was…wow.”
She giggled. “That was perfect.”
He lifted up from her shoulder and captured her lips into a kiss. It was long and tender and much softer than then the urgent act they’d just comitted. He itched to say it, those three words, but all that came out was.
“You’re gorgeous, Y/n.”
“Thank you, Harry,”
He kissed her forehead. “Come on, let's clean you up.”
if you enjoyed please follow me to see the next parts coming soon ily 🫶 feel free to check out my masterlist xxx & feel free to request me too!!
522 notes
·
View notes
vent in the tags boisss
0 notes
am i warm enough for you?
➳ tags ;; soulmate au, strangers to lovers, fluff and angst but mostly fluff, some-what canon compliant, bakugo katsuki is bad at feelings, lots of Feelings™, you guys are adults but the end of the fic but the fic is sfw, alcohol, drunk confessions
➳ wc ;; 5.6k..
➳ plot summary ;; you see your soulmate in dreams - sometimes in bits and pieces and other times in full. bakugo is less than inclined to admit he even has a soulmate - and you learn how to cope with it, one day at a time.
bakugo learns that this soulmate shit is no joke. that has to be why he keeps falling for you so helplessly.
➳ a/n ;; i wasn’t even gonna comeback this early but it felt so wrong not to post on my bfs birthday so alas </3 for anyone who cares to know this is @elysianseraph but with my new url. nice to see u all <3
this was originally posted on 4/20 but im reposting cause it didn’t show up in the tags dskjds
It’s hazy.
A cloud of smoke settles over your body, permeating your lung. It smells like sugar, like burning, like smoke and a little like leather. You can feel your toes curl and your hands moving but your body is separate from you in a way you can’t describe. It’s a pleasant kind of warmth that spreads, creeping up from behind your neck till it’s soft and cradling your skull. It’s soft like the touch of a mother, like wool over your ears.
It’s a pleasant feeling, that’s all. Almost cozy but there’s a fading sense of distress that chills in your lungs as you encompass it. Your hands are too small to reach forward, and truthfully the sensation is so powerful that you’re afraid to reach out. You’re 6 years old, so all you know is how it makes you feel. You can’t remember many details, but you feel pleasant. Something about it is soft, but there’s a sharp edge right at the end that has your lungs gasping for air.
It’s a flash of colors. Red. Orange. Pale Yellow. Grey. Black. Forest Green. Red. Red. Orange. Red.
And then it fades into a feeling again. A blurry feeling. You feel conflict, then concern, then inadequacy in heavy waves almost like it’s drowning you. It’s the first time you’ve experienced such a pain, so your wailing and wiping tears away with chubby fingers and saying a name you don’t know and can’t remember.
Ka. You know the sound, Ka. But you don’t know of anything more. It repeats rhythmically in your mind like a knock on the door, rapping with urgency - but it doesn’t do anything to jog your memory. Someone is trying to be let in but you don’t know how to answer them, and you’re still crying. The distress, the inadequacy shakes you and all you feel is frustration in short simple bursts.
Your first encounter with your soulmate is written this way in your memory. A sense of urgency laced with frustration - but they’re not towards you. It’s him, his feelings - you can feel them even deeper then he can. They pierce you in a way that makes it hard to breathe, no matter how you try to escape them it’s an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. The only way to escape the feelings of a dream is either to control them, or to face them and swim through the fog.
Soulmates have an urgency to them, in general. His is different, you can tell as much. Your first soulmate dream leaves the heaviest impression and each one thereafter is like pieces of a puzzle.
Sometimes you simply share random dreams, like a split screen in a video game - the two of you witness different parts of the same dreamverse. Other times, and honestly - most times, you’re experiencing their emotions or feelings. You experience their core memories, their life, in flashes and bits and pieces.
It’s not enough to know them or who they are, it’s like know everything about them except the things that matter
Sometimes you meet too. Just barely.
MEETING 1:
The room is white. When you blink, colors flash in order - red, pale yellow, orange, forest green and you know. You blink a few more times, stretching your hands out in front of yourself. Curling your hands into fist then into stretched palms, you lean forward and stretch. You wriggle your toes - notice you're wearing shoes. Clothes from your closet. Strange.
You take a look around the room but there isn't much to see. There’s a wall in front of you with a glass divider and a mirrored empty room. The room across from yours has spiky decor littered against the walls. An orange dresser, plastic grenades and play guns. You know who it is without a second warning - and a foggy part in the back of your head tells you that it’s him, again but with more force. You don’t see anything in your room, but you figure he might. All of it is confusing to you.
Before you can blink, there’s a loud thud coming from the other side of the glass. It’s a silhouette, the outline of a face - but nothing clear. Dream logic dictates you can’t know a face you’ve never seen, yet somehow you know his outline. Spiky, he’s spiky everywhere.
“Hello?,” you call out, overly tentative. The figure pauses, seems to take in whatever they must be seeing. You’re not sure what response you’re expecting, really. There’s no expectations at all.
“...Who the fuck are you?,” says a pitchy, male voice. He sounds like he’s your same age, a highschool boy. His throat is rough, yet not overly deep. It’s almost scratchy.
“Uhm,”
You’re not sure how to reply. You can see him through the glass, but not really. Still, you take note of his shadows like they’re going to tell you anything more. You shove your hands in your pockets, messing around with something inside.
“Uh.. your soulmate, I think,” you reply.
Scratching the back of your neck as an awkward silence settles, you take a few minutes to try and figure what more to say.
“We met when we were kids once too,” you explain awkwardly. He must know, has too - this soulmate thing is a two way thing, but his silence is deafening. You just want to feel this space. Is it always this awkward?
“Red. Orange. Pale Yellow. Forest Green,” you repeat, like a mantra. You hear him take in a sharp breath, and freeze. For some reason, you’d like to avoid upsetting him. He doesn’t seem like he’s taking to the information too well.
“I don’t have time for this damn bullshit… whatever quirk you’ve got to mimic this - cut it the fuck out,”
Hostile.
You pause, not sure how to feel. Half of you is offended, the other half is confused - had you done something to upset him? You can feel how he feels - but you don’t understand it. You sit with your mouth agape, like a fish out of water. Unsure of how to proceed, you scoff a little.
“Woah.. this isn’t a quirk thing. We’re.. soulmates? That’s already a thing,”
More silence. You’ve.. he doesn’t seem upset, but you can tell he’s not all that keen to the idea. It’s a bare minimum improvement that you find yourself valuing, without your consent. He breathes again, throat even more hoarse than before. His voice is angry but it doesn’t fit his responses, his feelings - so you don’t pay attention to his madness. Something is off.
“... I’m not supposed to have a soulmate. No fucking way I have a soulmate,” he grits. You step back, stumbling. You didn’t have any expectations.. but this wasn’t what you had been expecting at all. You feel uneasy, sick. It must be a shared feeling if the way he leans against a wall counts for anything.
A beat of silence passes before you open your mouth to speak.
“... I have no idea what I’m supposed to say to that,” you admit. He scoffs.
“Nothing you damn extra. Leave me the fuck alone,”
You don’t reply, too stunned. This was your soulmate? This.. asshole? Not that you were a peach entirely either, but this was supposedly the person that the universe had decided for you?
You shake your head. Maybe you’re just being rash? He could be a nice guy behind all the chaos. You try your best to hold onto that, that this was literally someone chosen for you before you gave up all hope. You sigh, cracking your neck.
“You can say whatever you want but.. we’re here, you know? It’s more productive to just go with it.. isn’t it?,”
“Go fuck yourself,”
“After meeting you, I’m not exactly over the fucking moon about it either. It is what is,”
“You’re not my fucking.. soulmate or whatever the fuck. Leave me alone,”
Your heart both aches with anger and sadness. You don’t know what to do. What does this shit-head know about you, anyway? You know he’s been through some shit, same as you - what makes him so entitled? You swallow the lump in your throat. It hurts. It pierces. Stupid soulmate bonds.
“Yeah? Alright. Fuck you too,”
You see him pace around for a longer before he disappears in a cloud of smoke. You didn’t even catch his name, and you’re not sure you wanted too. It must be morning, but at least you're away from him. It feels lonely, but it must just be you.
Your eyes flutter open but your heart is heavy with regret. You don’t know who it belongs to, but you’ve got class in an hour and not enough time to think about it. If he doesn’t want to meet you that’s fine.
It’s fine. Not like you wanted to meet your soulmate anyway.
__
You don’t have another meeting with your soulmate for months. Lately your dreams have little if anything to do with him or where he is, how he’s been. You have some of those split screen ones, where you know he’s there but neither of you acknowledge each other, even in spirit, like how you did before. When you wake up feeling angsty, you don’t know how to distinguish the feeling but you don’t try.
You wonder idly if he can feel your apathy, if he cares enough too. Maybe he also mistakes it for his own? It seems likely.
It’s a weekday where you’re getting ready for remedial classes at your school. First year advanced courses were no joke, and you find yourself regretting your choice to participate in them.
Still you get dressed anyway, put your uniform on and brush your teeth - wash your face with your eyes half open and look presentable. No one's home in the morning, the house is empty of any life but you. Food becomes a last minute priority, so you make an egg sandwich with cheese and eat it on the way to the train station.
You stare down at your feet as you step outside, music drowning out the noise of your surroundings aptly. The walk to the station is long and the ride is longer, but the streets are packed edge to edge. Musutafu is busy this time of year - the U.A. Sports Festival is taking place today and everything seems to reflect that. You barely manage to squeeze past all the strangers on the subway - clearly on their way to see it.
When you get to school, you're greeted by a mostly empty classroom with a teacher. These classes were straightforward as always, do the work you need to correct, have it approved and leave. It repeats until your finished with all the assignments and you get to be done. You give a respectful nod to your teacher before grabbing your work from your bag.
It goes on and on - occasionally, you hear an excited gasp and quiet chatter from classmates. It’s about the festival, the happenings - but you’re too caught up in completing your work that day and trying to get the fuck out of their as soon as possible.
Shit like that didn’t matter to you, anyways. It’s just a festival.
You leave around the same time the festival seems to have ended, the streets flooded with people - you miss the first station and wander towards an electronics store a block away from your highschool.
It’s the winners on TV. A guy with split hair - Shouto Todoroki, Endeavors son. A guy with a bird head, and a blonde with red eyes - muzzled to the pole.
When you see them, your heart stops. You can feel anger, an unfamiliar rage and humiliation building in your chest. It feels the word has stopped as you watch from afar, through screens. Your soulmate seems upset about something, but you wouldn’t know what.
And that blonde on TV, you wonder if you know him from somewhere.
MEETING 2:
Red.Orange. Pale Yellow. Grey. Black. Forest Green. Red. Red.
You feel him before you even know what’s happening - and it catches you completely off-guard. You haven’t had a proper soulmate dream in two years. Smoke clouds your lungs, the taste of sugar burning your tongue as you cough yourself into awareness. This time, you’re not in a room but it’s a campground. In the middle of the space is a bonfire, burning warmly. This one feels more vivid, more real.
But you know it’s not, your body feel unusually light and your hands can’t hold anything for too long. You know it’s a dream, but you sit in the chair anyway. It feels like you're floating. You feel oddly warm. Dread builds in the pit of your stomach. Even though it’s been so long since you’ve spoken to your soulmate - you can’t forget the terrible first encounter. It sticks to the roof of your mouth - a bitter memory that fills you with unexplainable, irrational resentment.
But it’s not like you hadn’t been seeing him, to an extent. You’ve seen all his memories in bits and pieces - all of them tragic and painful. This time, you see people but they come in the form of small scraps. Spiky Red. Electricity. Tape. Pink with Horns. Music. Green. So much green and red - like Christmas, you’ve called it. You’ve seen disappearances, fear, anguish - so much anguish.
In the weeks after All Might’s fall, you were in so much pain - you couldn’t stop crying for days. It’s been enough time to know what feelings were yours and which were his - and these ones felt so much like him. It went on for nearly a year - you’d almost got accustomed to it. If tears showed up to blot the ink of your lecture notes, you didn’t think twice about it. You tried to keep yourself calm, steady - in hopes you could lend your soothing to him. Even if he hated your guts, you could barely believe so much sadness could exist in one person. You didn’t know what happened but whatever it was - it must’ve been terrible. At the very least, you felt sympathy.
Sympathy was enough to get by for a long time. A neutral, level-headed sympathy that helped soothe some of your own hurt.
All that said, you were hardly expecting to see him again - especially not this soon. You don’t remember the last time you thought about him in anything other than passing - actively. It’s one thing to know what's happening - you’ve felt him passively everyday for damn near two years.
But it’s another thing to see him in front of you, force yourself to acknowledge him as your soulmate even if he insists on not doing the same.
You squirm in your chair, noticing that you’re wearing PJ’s instead of clothes. Just a hoodie and sweats, none of which fit you quite right. You pull your sleeves over your hands, fiddling with the stray strand of thread loose.
“What the fuck is this shit?,”
Your stomach drops. Unsure of what to say, you opt to say nothing at all. Just let him be, sit quietly in your dreams and mind your business. Maybe he’ll wake up soon and it’ll all be over.
You can’t see him from the corner of your vision but you can hear him shuffle. The way he touches things, noticing how they make noise but don’t feel quite right in his hands. How it feels real but doesn’t, how it is real and isn’t. Surely, he’s noticed you by now. The lingering silence makes you squirm.
“...It’s you,”
You flinch, lifting your head up slightly to meet his gaze. His expression is unreadable, but it’s different from before. In a fleeting moment, something occurs to you.
You can see him. What he looks like. Blonde with red eyes, and a sharp chin and thin waist. You know it must mean you’ve seen him before - perhaps you’d even seen each other, but for your life you can’t remember where you’ve seen his face. It’s right there, on the edge of your mind, but you’re stumped.
“Hello?,”
“Oh,” your reply comes short, strained. Your eyes flutter as you press your lips into a flat line. “Uh, hi,”
The blonde sits in the chair, slumping down. His eyes go towards the flickering flames without another word and you decide it’s best not to engage. It stays like that for a while, a beat of silence - not awkward but not comfortable, passing by without another thought. It all feels real, present - not like normal dreams. This must be the special kind of soulmate thing you find yourself feeling resentful towards.
His eyes are heavy. Relief is overwhelming him, with an iron grip and he’s worried you can feel it. If you can, you don’t say a word.
“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he admits.
The words sound tender passing through his mouth, unmistakably so - but you don’t get your hopes up. Instead, you give him a placating laugh, leaning forward towards the fire and mirroring him.
“I didn’t think so either,”
When it falls silent, it feels comfortable. It’s not like either of you have anything to say to each other right now, with no manual on how this was supposed to go. If he even wanted to go there.
“I can.. see you,” you start. He squints.
“You couldn’t before?,”
This takes you by surprise. You shake your head.
“No..Could you? See me, I mean?,”
Bakugo feels heat rise to his skin. Oh. Huh.
“Yeah,” he replies, a sharp inhale leaving his lungs “I can see you,”
There’s something tense in the air. It’s a strange sensation - to know the deepest and most intimate parts of someone without even knowing their name proper, or where they went to school, or what they normally eat for breakfast. All that connects you are these mutual feelings, shared grief that holds you two to the title of soulmates. This odd bond.
“..d’ya still think I’m a quirk wielding villain?,” you laugh, or try too - you’re doing your best to cut the tension. He can feel your hurt all the way from your sit, so deep in his gut - it’s been haunting him for years. How many nights of sleep he’s lost knowing there are soft and helpless tears coming from these suppressed feelings. He doesn’t know how to say sorry, so he sighs and rubs the back of his neck. He’s changed a lot in two years - but not enough to be good at this.
“No, I don’t,”
“Oh,”
He smiles, just a little. It’s gentle, casts shadow on his face from the light of the fire. It’s warm, everything feels warm and better and invigorating. When you look at him and his uneasy expression - you know he feels it too.
“By the way, uhm - what’s your name? Ka.. something? Right?,”
His eyes shoot up in surprise. He nods a little.
“Katsuki Bakugo,” he replies, expectantly. You seem surprised that he wants to know yours.
“Y/N Y/L/N,” comes your reply.
“Nice to meet you,” says him, Bakugo - your soulmate.
“Nice to meet you too,”
__
Getting to know Bakugo is unusually easy. You get the feeling it wouldn’t be, in the case that you were anything but soulmates - but Bakugo has never known being this intimate with someone other than you. Despite himself, how much he hates himself - you never seem too. Even though you feel and see all the ugliest parts of him - have since he was small enough to still be innocent, you always treat him the same.
Your conversations are short, and shallow. Regardless, he’s not used to talking so much about himself. But you’re always curious, so much so Bakugo doesn’t have the heart to see your countless questions go unanswered.
You keep a little notebook of all of your encounters. You remember them by heart but write them down too, just in case you miss something. You ask about his friends - Spiky Red and Soft Green, referring to them that way even after you’ve known their names. You ask about his work - the life of a dangerous hero, and if he ever gets nervous flying through the air.
Admittedly, he’s mean to you. He teases you so frequently, he’s lost count of all the times you’ve huffed and puffed at his sarcastic remarks. Still, you never turn away from him. You stand with your foot down and your arms crossed over your chest - insistent on making him feel flustered too. And it works, somehow - because you know all too much about Bakugou and always gets him right where he’s most conscious about. You don’t have to tease him about his feelings since you know them like the palms of your hand.
But these shallow conversations always mean a little more to him that he knows how to verbalize, and half the time he doesn’t need to do that at all. You’ve learned the masterful of working around him quietly, making all the parts of that feel too big to love - something small and fragile. Somehow, you’ve made being with him, even as friends - feel like less of an impossible feat but a dream.
Katsuki Bakugo has been in love with you since he was 6 years old. There must be some feelings we cannot share with our soulmates, because he has no idea if you feel it or not. He just knows he does, somewhere deep in the cavern of his heart, he loves you.
You never cross the barrier of romance with him, though. A paralyzing fear seems to settle in your bones when you breach too close to love and intimacy - and Bakugo understands those feelings, even if he doesn’t know exactly why they’re there. It’s not something you’ve decided to tell him yet, but he feels it in the same way he feels your loneliness. You may be kind but you’re more guarded than he is, and not fearless but reckless.
But he still finds himself aching to love and be loved by you, no matter how much he hates it. The yearning still manages to swallow him, even late into the night.
MEETING 3:
It’s been a while since your last meeting with Bakugo but not long. You were 21 now, but your dream visits were frequent. When you weren't speaking or seeing him through dreams - you were watching him on TV. You’d been yet to meet with him in real life but to you, that was okay. Seeing him like this had been more than enough.
Today was different. Normally, that bonfire was always a back-drop to these little encounters but it was a field today - a filed with rolling hills and hundreds of flowers and tall grass that made you feel itchy. The sun was permanently stuck right before it set but it was so warm everywhere. When you get there, there’s a blanket on the top of one of the hills. You sit on it cautiously and watch the wind pass. Everything is tinged orange, and red - you know he’s there with you before he appears.
When he does, he seems different. You glance over at him as he stumbles towards you in a stupor, and when he does finally sit - you get a whiff of alcohol coming from his neck and mouth. It’s strong enough to make a little dizzy. Blinking owlishly, he sits crisscross besides you, staring a little at the surroundings.
“..the fuck?,” he slurs. You can’t help but break out into a laugh. He nearly falls over, body swaying so you bring his head down to your shoulder wordlessly, a furious heat running all over your skin. Even though you can’t feel him, the gesture makes you feel something in your belly.
“Why’re you so drunk?,”
“Birthday,” he mumbles. Your eyes widen in surprise. Bakugo is seemingly unfazed, eyes drooping with tiredness. He’s completely inebriated.
You feel yourself grow tender. You’d have to wake up and remember the days date. Despite all the times you’ve met, you had no clue about his birthday or how he celebrated. You feel your heart ache at the idea you’ve spent the latter half of it together, in your own way.
“Happy Birthday, Bakugo.”
“Bakugo this, Bakugo that,” he growls, a little incoherent “We’re supposed to be fucking soulmates and you still call me by that.. damn name.”
He hiccups a little as you sit there stunned. You blink.
“.. You think of us as soulmates?,”
“Are you some kind of moron?,”
You scowl, flicking his forehead with your thumb and forefinger. He makes a noise of indignance.
“Well, how would I know? When we first met, you didn’t seem enthused about it,”
Bakugo sighs tiredly.
“I was 15 and an asshole - clearly I don’t fuckin’ feel that anymore,”
You seem surprised again.
“..You don’t?,”
Instead of swearing at you, he closes his eyes and gets closer to you. The liquor runs through his system like liquid courage and he nods a little.
“Not at all,”
“What do you..”
“What do you think I mean?,” he barks a laugh. You feel your pulse under your skin, drumming against your chest like a hammer. You can’t even breathe.
You’ve had feelings for Bakugo from the second proper meeting you’d had with him. It was clear as a day that he was your soulmate for good reason, that inexplicable draw that kept your heart from ever belonging to anyone else. You tried to - tried to go on dates and see other opportunities through but he was always so one of a kind.
Yet, you’d given up all hope that it would mean anything to harbor these feelings, convinced that Bakugo simply wasn’t interested in you In doing any of this. You didn’t want to force him into something he didn’t want - so you kept your distance with hope that he’d still be in your life. It was enough, or you’d wanted it to be.
It’d be a lie to say that you hadn’t started thinking about it more and more as the days pass. What it would be like to see him, touch him and love him and be with him for real - these passive daydreams gone vivid. If he could see your dreams, he must know about them. But you didn’t know how to approach it - how to approach love at all.
That’s the thing with soulmates. You’re told that you’ll just have the answers, destiny will do the hard work but that’s far from true. Because even now, with Bakugo leaning on your shoulder with this confession lingering in the air - you don’t know what to do.
“Stop being so nervous,” he mumbles. You stumble a little over yourself.
“Sorry,”
He chuckles.
“You really need me to say it, huh?,” he sighs. He picks himself. If he’s drunk and reckless, then fuck it - he’s gonna take it all the way. He drops his head onto your lap with a tired sigh.
“I think you’re my soulmate, you fuckin’ idiot,” he admits.
And it’s hard to say, because feelings don’t come easy for Bakugo Katsuki - but it’s the least he can do. All Bakugo Katsuki has ever known is to be lonely. It’s a loneliness that he’d forced on himself. Bottling up all the anger and sadness and swallowing it. It’s long since sunk it’s claws into him. That overwhelming, all consuming ugly feeling that lingers underneath that superiority complex.
That no one would ever, could ever love the ugliness that lingers in him. That no one who knew him for what he truly is, could care for him. Deku was the first of many disbeliefs and not much had changed.
Except for when it did. Except for when he met you - in a dream, and you were real and beautiful even at 15. That the universe hadn’t been playing some sick joke on him when he kept seeing you in his dreams, so soothing to his teenage loneliness. You were real and that was so fucking scary.
But you loved him anyway. Looked out for him when he was at his lowest - the soothing beat of your heart in the days after All Mights end . When he cried himself into sleep and dreamed of you. God, how he dreamed of you. Not especially romantic dreams, but dreams of how you made breakfast. How you watched cartoons on Sunday and read manga in your classes instead of the assigned work. How you fell asleep on the train station and always ate icecream after big tests. How you were especially mundane and how he got to be apart of that everyday routine.
After all, you see dreams of each other, but Bakugo has no clue what your dreams of him look like. His have always looked like you though.
When he was worthless and empty and unable to give you anything meaningful, to apologize or put his pride away - you had loved him anyway. Felt for him with clumsy hands and held on, not letting go. Even when he was begging for you to leave him alone, in fear of this all being nothing more than a cruel dream - you held on tightly to him. With your silly notebook questions and dumb names.
Bakugo Katsuki has never known what it means to love someone who isn’t you. Even if you found someone else and there was someone better than you for him, he would grit his teeth and bear it. He wonders if he’ll ever believe he deserves you. He wants to believe you’re his soulmate - to believe you wont ever leave. To believe that he did something right enough that the universe could give him someone like you.
And he wishes he could say all this, but he can’t - he just closes his eyes and hopes you can feel it.
“You’re so mean,”
“Isn’t that why you like me?,” he grins.
And you can feel his sincerity. He should feels yours too.
“I love you, actually,”
He gasps, a sharp breath that stabs his lungs. He feels sober from the confession.
His voice is gravelly when he speaks.
“Yeah, shit - me too,”
__
Your heart beats rapidly in your chest. The address is correct, it has to be with the way this place looks. Only a hero could live here, with the floors that lead up to skies. He lives on 3rd floor, so you swallow your fear. You give yourself a thumbs up in the glass window pane of the building before entering through the doors.
When you get there, a box sits. You press the button next to his place, bouncing on the balls of your feet until you answer.
“Hello?,”
His voice feels different in real life. You cough.
“Uh, hi,” you greet awkwardly “I’m here,”
“Oh,” he says. You hear something buzz and then him again. “Come on up,”
And you do. The elevator ride feels like it stretches mild, classic piano echoing against the empty walls. You feel yourself feel sick but you’re not sure it’s from the movement. All you can do is fidget and wait.
When the doors open, you peak your head out into the hallway. He’s the first one on the left, just as promised. You can see a welcome mat - forest green, and something in you knows that it’s the right one.
You step up and knock, three times precisely. Your heart is all the way in your ears and everything in you is filled with unease and excitement.
When the door swings open, the world stops. You gape like a fish out of water in disbelief. He’s tall and big like he promised he’d be, but you’re unprepared. His chin is scruffy, eyes full of sleep. Strong chest and arms that seem to crowd your vision, you don’t know what do.
His expression is full to the brim with feelings you’ve never seen. He steps aside with his head ducked down.
“Come in,”
“Ah.. right,”
You take your shoes off and place them in the slippers meant for you - they fit you just right, and it can’t be a coincidence. Your heart swells up a little as you take your coat off, hanging it on the rack. You can feel his eyes as they linger on your silhouette.
“So -,”
Before you can get a word out, you feel strong arms wrapped around your waist. His scruff brushes against the skin of your neck as he holds you tightly too him. The warmth of his breath lingers on your neck - and he hiccups, a sob stored in his rib cages let out with a howl. The tears blur your vision too. You can feel his drip onto your shoulder as you snivel into his neck. Your legs feel weak, but he holds you up at the door - the only thing keeping you standing.
You cling around him tightly, your nails digging into the meat of his shoulders. It’s him, your soulmate, Katsuki Bakugo. He’s real and holding you - and he smells like leather and sugar and a fireplace. He’s warm and strong and overwhelming and your crying into his shoulder with so much feeling you don’t know what to do. You hit him weakly, unsure of what do with yourself and he laughs.
“Damn you, shitty woman - makin’ me fucking cry,” but his voice is strained. It’s like something connected, how you feel each other so intimately in that moment. Not only because you’re soulmates, but because you love each other so deeply. Your heart feels heavy.
When you pull away, you manage to give him a warbly smile.
Your hands cradle his face - so handsome and wonderful. You lean forward, emboldened, and peck him. He melts into your touch like he’d been waiting for this moment his whole life. It makes you grin.
Maybe you don’t realize that he had.
He’d been waiting for you all this time.
2K notes
·
View notes
Beach Days with The Genshin Characters!
Wc: 1.7k+
Type: Headcanons
CW: umm nothing except mentions of alcohol and maybe people being creeps? (None of the chars or you tho it’s very brief)
A/N: HI IM BACK FROM THE DEAD! These were supposed to be a lot shorter but I got too excited. If you by any chance wanna see some for your fav character lmk! I know it says request are closed in my bio but since it’s just hcs it’s a lot less (and I really enjoyed writing these so ajdhdhdk)
🔥Diluc:
This man cannot swim. Tell me otherwise, I dare you.
Kaeya tried to jokingly push him off a lil diving cliff area when they were kids.
He almost drowned. Kaeya was in a lot of trouble.
So, good luck getting this man to actually get in the water. The most he’ll do is sit on the shore where it’s very shallow.
He usually prefers to just stay under an umbrella on the sand and keep an eye on you.
Calls you every two hours in advance and helps you reapply sunscreen.
He’s very pale so I feel like he burns pretty easily, meaning he needs to reapply super frequently otherwise he will become a tomato. He brings like three bottles of the good shit. Tch, rich boy.
If you ask him to build a sandcastle, he will pretend to be annoyed but do it anyways. Ends up finding it kind of enjoyable.
He has the maids prepare a nice picnic basket for the two of you!! It’s got all your favorite foods plus grape juice cuz y’know.
If any creepy peeps approach you, don’t worry. He brought his vision and his claymore.
Of course, he won’t have to resort to such violent lengths. Everyone in Mondstadt knows who Diluc is and they probably know you’re his s/o, so they’re usually smart enough to mind their own business.
If they don’t, don’t worry. Diluc’s glare is more than enough to scare them away.
All in all I definitely recommend a beach day with him! I’ll give it a solid 8/10 (-2 for not wearing floaties and getting in the water with you or letting you teach him how to swim.
🖌Albedo:
You guys definitely 100% take Klee out with you on a beach day.
You guys bring snacks, beach toys like buckets and shovels for optimal sandcastle building, a picnic blanket, etc.
Jean definitely packs a lot more stuff for you guys to take with you than you actually need.
It’s only cuz she’s worried for Klee and is nervous about not being able to go with you guys though! It’s very sweet really.
Klee tries to bomb the fish and cause havoc at the beach 😭
I think Albedo is a good swimmer and gets in with you and Klee so that he can help her (which is very cute omfg)
He’s set total workaholic, as we know, so it took a lot of convincing to get him to put down his experiments and accompany you to the beach (however, he’s particularly weak to yours and klee’s puppy dog eyes so he caved eventually)
Though, looking at you and Klee happily building sandcastles and decorating them with pretty seashells of all shapes and colors, he can’t really find it in himself to complain.
He, of course, takes this opportunity to take out his sketchbook and draw the waves, seagulls, you… Of course he won’t let you see the sketch book no sir. He’s a bit embarrassed to be honest, but an artist such as himself recognizes beauty when he sees it so he simply had to draw you. (God I love him so much)
If a creepy person approaches you,- well don’t worry. The sight of a small arsonist child blowing up fish is enough to scare them away 🥰
At the end of the day, all three of you are all ticketed out. Albedo has to carry Klee back to Mondstadt because the poor baby fell asleep the moment you started drying her hair with the beach towel. You’re, of course, carrying back Dodoco and your bags. (You also manage to sneak a peak at Albedo’s sketchbook and find some very pretty drawings of you and Klee with your sandcastle)
At the end of the day, you guys tuck Klee in and read her a bedtime story (she woke up and insisted). Afterwards Albedo takes you back home and thanks you for coming with you and Klee (which you ofc say wasn’t a problem because how could you not???)
All in all? I’ll give it a solid 10/10. You’ve got tasty food, fun times, your boyfriend and his cute kid adoptive sister (yes I am very biased idc)
🦋Xiao:
I think it would take a lot of convincing to get Xiao to go out on a beach date with you.
He’ll probably see it as a distraction getting in the way of his slaying of monsters and demons.
However, he also worships the grounds you walk on (hehe, simp XD), so I don’t think it’ll take that much convincing on your part (especially because it’s is self appointed duty to keep you safe so if you insist on going with or without him, he supposes he’ll have to go)
Is definitely a bit tense at first. He doesn’t know how to let loose and chill so while you’re sun tanning on a beach chair he’s like 🧍♂️ahdgshjsjd
Eventually calms down a bit though! You get him to relax and eat some almond tofu you brought along with you. It definitely gets him to perk up.
I don’t think he would mind getting into the water but I do think he’d rather walk along the shore and collect pretty seashells and sea glass.
He later gives the ones he deems pretties to you (he hands them over to you with a blush on his face and pretends it’s not a big deal and he definitely gets all pouty and grouchy when you coo at how adorable he is)
As for creeps, Xiao is both intimidating and well known in Liyue. No one is brave enough (or, let’s be honest, dumb enough) to approach you with any bad intentions.
Sure, Xiao has sworn never to harm a human/citizen of Liyue but that doesn’t mean he can’t scare the absolute shit out of them.
I think Xiao would definitely enjoy a beach day 🥺🥺. He’d find it very relaxing to go out with you and just hear the sound of waves and feel the sand under his feet.
He’d definitely hint at wanting to do it again later. Of course, he won’t tell you. No, that’s a foolish mortal activity and he has much better things to do.
Wait no, don't turn around, yes he will go with you next month.
All in all, I give Xiao a 9/10. It’s a very relaxing day (which he deserves 😤). And you get to see a whole new side of him.
💎Ningguang:
OK SO ORIGINALLY I WASN'T GONNA WRITE ONE FOR HER (at least not in this post) BUT THEN I THOUGHT OF LADY NINGGUANG TAKING YOU TO A WHOLE ASS PRIVATE BEACH
She knows you don’t care about how exclusive the beach you go to is (in fact, the fact that you don’t care about where you are or what you do is one of the things that make her fall more and more madly in love with you) but you deserve the best so she’s gonna go all out.
She’s a busy lady so days like this where the two of you get to go somewhere and be together are few and far between.
She knows it’s hard to be in a relationship with someone who is busy 24/7, so she appreciates how you remain by her side despite all hardships. (Y’all are a whole ass power couple istg)
The two of you spend your day relaxing. Sun bathing, drinking piña coladas, maybe taking a dip in the ocean. It’s all very pleasant!
Ningguang doesn’t quite feel like the type of person who would sit in the sand and make sandcastle, however you’re more than welcome to make some yourself. She finds it endearing <3
If you insist on her helping, she’ll eventually comply. She loves you too much to say no. I feel like she’ll either be terrible at it or like a total architect.
Sand is technically like tiny rocks right? So maybe she can use her vision to help her? If that’s the case, she’s making a replica of the Jade chamber out of sand.
If any creepy person comes up to you don’t worry. Ningguang will buy the whole beach and then use her right of admission as owner to permanently ban them from the beach you’re at.
The only downside to a day at the beach with Ningguang might be that there’s a big chance she’ll be called to tend urgent matters, seeing as she is the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing and all.
If that does happen, she’ll be sure to make it up to you somehow, whether it be rescheduling or taking care of the matter as soon as possible so that the two of you can get back to your day of relaxation and fun.
All in all?? Lady Ningguang will treat you like total royalty and the two of you will have an amazing time! I give her an 11/10 (she would literally buy a whole beach for you to be comfortable I mean c’mon)
🍃Venti:
BEACH DAYS WITH HIM ARE SO FUN!!
Swimming? Yeah, he’d love to! Sunbathing? Sure! He’ll ever conjure up a light breeze for the two of you. Sandcastle building? WELL OF COURSE WHY DO YOU THING HE BROUGHT ALL THESE BUCKETS AND SHOVELS?
No but seriously, he might be the best person out of everyone here to go to the beach with. He’s fun, free spirited, and he’s a traveling bard who’s been alive long enough to know where all the best beaches in Teyvat are. (He also knows a guy- er, well, dragon I suppose- who is willing to fly them to any place).
He’ll play some soft tunes while you doze under the sun.
HE PICKS PRETTY SHELLS AND GIFTS THEM TO YOU!!!
He will bring booze. I’m pretty sure this is a necessity. If you’re a little upset about it, he’ll probably “eheh~” his way out of it. That slick bastard.
If you really insist on him not drinking, he won’t consume much alcohol.
If some creepy person approaches you and tries to ruin you your day of beach time fun, all of their stuff will suddenly be blown away, causing them to scramble back to their spot and (almost embarrassingly) flail around trying to catch everything. What a shame…
At the end of the day, he’d be a little sad to leave. Definitely makes plans about tbe two of you going back soon.
I gotta give him a 10/10 he’s just so fun omg.
596 notes
·
View notes
a hero’s journey (m)
summary; jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story
pairing; jungkook x editor!reader (f)
genre/warnings; best friend’s boyfriend au, slice of life, angst with a happy ending because im weak, pining pINING, everyone’s kind of a mess in their own sweet special way, alcohol use, mentions of ze weed, toxic relationships, mean friends, sex—slight dom!kook, food play, fingering, squirting, heavy use of the petname “pretty girl” bc im weak, strength kink, manhandling (oop!)
w.c; 22.2k
a/n; woof! my first fic for @goldenclosetnetwork 23 | jungkook’s birthday project! this goes out to all the closet romantics *ahem me cough* who doesn’t love pining between a cutie koo? a huge thank u for vivi @eerieedits for making this bbbBEAUTIFUL fic banner!
prompt used: “I should’ve known.”
if you like this fic pls consider giving a like n’share🥺💜🥺💜
It’s so easy to ignore the world.
Maybe it’s a young-adult thing, but it gets difficult fitting into the 9-to-5 and playing to satisfy bosses that don’t entirely understand your work ethic. Maybe it’s out of complacency, or fear. But you prefer to let the world flow around you and when you’re needed, you’ll act. You’ve reached that point in your life where you enjoy the little things, satisfied by an extra hour of overtime tacked onto your paycheck, a new fabric softener, or finding the perfectly squishy yoga mat.
You’ve finally started feeling comfortable in your shoes, uncaring as to whether you’re single or drowning in college debt, happy to live a relatively stable life. You’re grateful. There’s nothing more than you need than your happiness, and the love of your friends and family.
Namely, your best friend from college. Jisoo always joked about how you two “won the lottery” as dorm rooms in freshman year were determined by lottery. Pulling numbers 883 and 884, you and Jisoo snagged a corner spot of the dormitory, leaving you two utterly cramped but utterly close as the years went by. Six years later and it’s still the case, the two of you have grown into talented working ladies. While you may not be able to spend time with each other the same way you did in school, you still care for each other.
So when Jisoo shows up teary with a rumpled dress shirt and her hair waterfalling out of this morning’s bun, you break out the good alcohol and season three of Jane the Virgin for her.
After the liquid is warm in your cheeks and you’ve fawned enough over Micheal and Rafael’s love triangle, you let Jisoo ramble.
Jisoo has downed a whole bottle of soju on her own, while you’ve decided to have a tasteful glass of wine. You’d rather be tired wine drunk than wasted on soju.
“Jungkook and I had a fight,” she warbles, stuffing a handful of popcorn in her mouth, “it was totally stupid.”
Your eyes flash, picturing Jisoo and Jungkook in quarrel. They’re the epitome of an Instagram-worthy couple, beautiful and deathly charming to a fault. They show nothing but kindness and sweetness to you whenever you third-wheel, not a lick of anger between them when you’re all together.
So a fight is something surprising. Jisoo and Jungkook, J-squared are a power couple. Saying their names next to each other just emits a sort of energy you can only akin to famous small screen couples like Troy and Gabriella or Cory and Topanga. Jisoo’s Instagram is belly full with sweet selfies of them together, the doe-eyed man always looking completely sweet and gentle to the woman in his arms.
You never piqued Jungkook as the type of guy who would pick a “stupid fight.” And you know Jungkook pretty well.
Maybe a little too well.
“He surprised me during my lunch break and he caught me talking to Doyoung and he thought I was flirting,” Jisoo is practically eating her sweater, her head falling between her flannel pyjama sleeves.
“Doyoung, as in your ex Doyoung?” you raise a brow.
She groans, glaring at you in earnest. “Not you, too! I told him it was ridiculous to get jealous, and then I told him how jealous I get when he’s around girls and I don’t need to tell him that,” she rolls her eyes, twisting her feet petulantly in her fuzzy socks, “but then you know what he says back?”
You wince, swirling your wine glass, “That you’re crazy?”
“That I’m crazy, exactly! How did you—” her bloodshot eyes zero in on you, where you’ve tucked yourself in the corner of the couch. You swirl the ruby liquid in your cup, watching the feet web around the cheap crystal, “you think I’m crazy too, don’t you?”
You swallow your sigh, taking your time to finish your liquid in languid sips. Uneasy, you wish you could just sink through the couch in order to avoid this conversation. Jisoo’s heart is generally in the right direction, but in terms of emotions she has the kind of sensitivity that you prefer to ignore rather than tread. Jungkook is also equally emotional, but in a different way. He wears his heart on his sleeve, preferring to keep things straight as opposed to bottling it up like Jisoo.
However the theoretic bottle has reached it’s brim and Jisoo’s tipping, fast.
“I need to tell you something,” Jisoo is swerving, crawling like an infant on wobbly limbs to reach your corner of the couch. You almost stop her, tell her you can continue this conversation in the morning, it’s what you normally do when she drinks into a stupor. But tears are swimming in her glassy caramel eyes and she’s grappling onto your blanket, resting her head in her lap.
Her glossy russet strands curtain her head, so you don’t see the expression on her face when she says her next words:
“Jungkook told me he liked you senior year, and I told him you weren’t interested so I’d have a chance.”
Wow. So that explains everything.
The memories that you’ve tried so hard to brush away, the feelings you’ve tried so hard and continue to try to suppress, are laid out in front of you on a rusted platter. You could laugh, you could fling the rest of the Pinot Grigio down your throat like fresh water on a hot day and call it a night.
But instead you choke back your tears, and push her off because you’re hurt.
Deep down you know you would’ve been less upset if she told you the week after Jisoo and Jungkook called it official. If you knew from the beginning, it would’ve been easier on your heart. But it's been over two years since the past, thinking you’ve been needlessly, stupidly, delusional in thinking that you could’ve possibly had a chance with Jungkook.
Because it could’ve been you. And the reason why Jisoo and Jungkook fought today? Now you know it’s because deep down, they know they’re each other’s second choice.
You can’t even recall a time where Jungkook and Jisoo were together alone before they suddenly started dating, remembering how it used to be you and Jungkook before Jisoo found him one day in your shared apartment, utterly smitten. And now you know you weren’t delusional, because the feelings and the signals you two were exchanging in senior year was real.
But it doesn’t stop the fact that over two years have passed. Two years of a serious relationship between Jisoo and Jungkook, and two years of you secretly loving him from an arm’s length.
“You hate me,” Jisoo removes herself from you, voice trembling. The quick, dark part of your mind wants you to snap back of course I hate you. You’ve trusted Jisoo with your life all these years, she was the reason you got through college so gracefully, why you enjoyed the past seven years of your life.
But the sentiment is stained, and all you can do is deliver a tired smile and stand up. “I don’t hate you,” you say, “I’m just, really overwhelmed. I can’t lie and say that I’m not hurt,” your fingers clutch the fake crystal in your grasp, and for once you’re thankful you’re not strong enough to break it, “but you two love each other now and there’s no point in dwelling in the ‘what-ifs’.”
Now that you think about it, when was the last time Jisoo treated you like a best friend? You stare at your wine glass, thinking that the only time comfort is provided in this apartment is when Jisoo is upset, never when you’re upset.
Jisoo bobs her head senselessly, agreeing to every word. It’s pathetic, seeing her on her knees and her eyes glimmering with the hope that you’d forgive her straightaway. She must feel awful. That’s good.
You sigh, needing to be the bigger person. “You need to call Jungkook and tell him he has nothing to worry about though, after all, you two have history now. As much, if not more than Doyoung.”
“Right,” she replies, biting her lip. It suddenly feels like you're talking to a wall, carrying a conversation that's long ended.
“As for us,” you have half a mind to slam your glass on the counter, but instead you give it a heavy hand, letting slowly thump to the coffee table, “I don’t think I want to see you two, for a while.”
“Understandable.”
“And I don’t want to help you move out anymore,” I just want you gone.
“Right,” she whispers. The both of you will be completed with your lease in two months, and Jisoo and Jungkook have decided to move into Jungkook’s apartment. As for you, you haven’t decided as to whether you want to go through the whole process of moving out or looking for a new roommate.
“I’m sorry, I’m so so fucking sorry. I just was insecure as fuck in college and Jungkook was the first person I met in a long time that helped me feel more… like me.”
You want to say that she's right, she’s selfish. Her excuses aren’t palpable anymore. It’s too late. But if you were in Jisoo’s shoes, you’d think this apology is mere crumbs in comparison to your friendship. Why isn't she trying harder? Maybe because she doesn't know any better. After all, you never told her what you felt for him has morphed into love.
You don’t even have to ask as to whether she’ll tell Jungkook this or not, you now know honesty is not her style.
Jisoo doesn’t get a goodnight and a drunken kiss on the forehead like she usually does whenever you two have your late night talks. Instead, she seals herself to her own demise as you slam the door to your bedroom, effectively shutting each other out.
Work is a bitch the following morning. You’re like molasses, rolling out of bed despite the whole world and its mother telling you to go back to sleep.
Your feet are killing you as you make your walk to work, deciding to wear a pair of red-backed heels so you can stomp your way through your day.
Your Wusband (Work-Husband) Kim Namjoon matches you step-for-step, eyes glued to his phone as he catches you on the sidewalk. “Woman on a mission,” he comments absentmindedly, eyes glued to his phone as he follows the click of your shoes to your favorite cafe.
You spare a glance to your right hand-man, eyeing him appreciatively at his dedication to your morning routine. He’s your favorite co-worker, one who keeps you on time to your meetings and keeps you sane when you want to pull your hair out and dig out a coffin in your little cubicle. Namjoon’s long legs always seem to catch up with you during your workweek, whether it’s to get coffee in the morning or to talk shit about the latest gossip in the breakroom.
The bell of the glass door tinkles in your ears as you enter the café, relatively busy for the morning rush. While you wait in line, Namjoon ticks off your activity list for today.
“Meeting with Victoria is cancelled this morning,” you groan in relief, your supervisor Victoria always scares the shit out of you even when she’s not doing anything, “and just the usual proofing and whatever we have to do on the third floor today—can I get a large iced Americano with a pump of caramel? Thanks,” Namjoon moves aside so you can throw your order in as well, “and after work could you stop by Vernon’s? He took a sick day today and he has most of the manuscripts for the next issue.”
“Done and done,” you swipe your card in the dip, tucking your card away in your zippered pouch. “So like, do Americanos taste any good? Like it’s literally watered down espresso how do you pay to drink watered down tar—”
Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter. Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter swirling stray sugar crystals with his thumb and putting them in his napkin. What an impeccable display of Virgo energy, absentmindedly cleaning things he has no business doing. You scoff to yourself, recalling this morning that Jisoo got off the phone this morning with a stupid smile on her face. From the mirror image that Jungkook is excluding while he’s smiling on his cellphone like a smitten teenager, it seems like they’ve made up.
Nevertheless the hurt from last night is still fresh in your bones, and you force yourself to look away despite the fact that your morning pick-me-ups are almost done and are sitting tauntingly next to Jungkook’s elbow. Does he really need to learn against the counter like he owns it? Hair slightly damp from the shower, your heart beats a little faster at the fresh image.His biceps are straining against his charcoal lycra long sleeve, which is slightly damp from his morning run. Snap out of it! You are a mature, working woman who does not swoon in the view of bulgy muscles, especially when the man who owns those muscles is taken. Suddenly there’s a call of your name, and two cups and a paper bag are put in front of Jungkook.
He blinks, and you immediately pale when you see his eyes flit over your name surrounded by your favorite coral pink beverage. You feel struck as his head perks up at the name and he narrowly makes eye-contact—
“The fuck you’re doing,” Namjoon gripes, shoving your guava iced tea and croissant in your chest, “standing there like a moron as if we don’t got shit to do today.”
“Sorry,” you mumble, pulling at the brown paper bag to tug a piece of croissant between your teeth. The warmth, buttery pastry melts in your tastebuds. Ah, bread. Nothing like a little bit of carb to make you feel better.
You’re suddenly thankful for Namjoon’s gargantuan torso from effectively blocking you from Jungkook, hauling you out of the coffee shop like a petulant toddler. He doesn’t even give you a chance to catch another secret look at the object of your affections, making sure you’re back in your work game before you enter the building. Even if he doesn’t know it, Kim Namjoon’s always got your back.
Or in today’s case, breathing down your back.
Without your third editor and a hard deadline coming up by the end of the week, you and Namjoon are working in tandem throughout your 9-5 to complete drafts for Big Hit Publishings Arts & Media section. Both of you take turns to bring snacks and feed each other, feeling like reading zombies and slaves to your desk as you remind each other to breathe throughout the whole ordeal.
In complete honesty you don’t totally mind. Namjoon is a great partner-in-crime, and you both love what you do and do a damn good job at it. You call it “Buzzfeed but with Benefits.”
And at least for today, you could quell the feelings in your chest from last night and this morning. Sure, you’ve always been okay with the pining you’ve had for Jungkook. The feeling comes and goes whenever it pleases, and since yesterday you’ve been okay with just admiring from afar and being their third wheel.
However, now the feelings are acutely comparable to a third-degree burn with the help of Jisoo playing with fire.
With a quiet exhale, you concede in your gaming chair (because it’s just so damn comfy to keep in the office.) You’re an adult and not a petty child, and you will not let this piece of information derail you from your calm, stable lifestyle.
But honestly? Fuck Jisoo.
“Let’s go, buckaroo,” Namjoon logs off for you, the cinnamon-y smell of his shampoo effectively waking up your senses, “it’s already 5:30. And you said you’d stop by Vern’s to get his drafts.”
“Right,” you blurt, mindlessly putting away your papers and snack wrappers in your bag. You can’t believe the whole day’s gone already.
“Maybe you don’t even have to go to his apartment. Just text him or whatever.”
“Sounds good, thanks Joonie.”
“And y/n?” Namjoon gives you a look that causes you to force a terse smile, one you give one too many times to higher-ups at work. It isn’t to insult Namjoon by any means, but you guys are partners, the kind that tell way too much but hide just enough to remain close from afar. “Take it easy, will you?”
“I will,” you concede, stretching your arms, “I’m def overdue for a massage.”
“You don’t look sick,” you scoff, taking in the casual look your co-editor boasts as he leans casually against the doorway.
Hansol Vernon Chwe is the epitome of fluffy, decked out in large electric blue sweats and his russet brown hair curling softly above his porcelain skin. Not only is he your co-editor, but also a friend from college. Not to the extent that you were with Jisoo and Jungkook, but you operated in the same publishing club and managed to get partnering internships that made you the co-workers you are today. You see a little bit of that collegiate youth in Vernon right now, as he looks well-rested and fresh faced despite the fact he probably didn’t apply moisturizer or drink enough water today.
“But you kinda do,” he tilts his head, noting the heels that adorn your feet, “you’re wearing your sexy shoes today, that means something’s going on.”
“Gee, ever the ladies’ man,” you scoff, getting under his arm to invite yourself inside, “all I want is the completed interviews so we can pick out the best parts and draft them. Then I’ll be on my merry way.”
“Oh c’mon, we’ve been talking nothing but work this whole damn month. What happened to college when we’d talk hours about House Hunters, the safeness of library sex, that little furry thing in Lincoln Hall’s urinal? That was prime conversation.”
“Vern, I’m just here for the drafts,” you sit at his tiny kitchen table, glaring at his open laptop.
“You could’ve just emailed me,” he teases, twisting around his chair so he can rest his arms against the back. “But since you’re here, that means you probably wanna spill some tea but you’re too upset to admit it.”
“If I talk will you stop talking like that?”
“Yes. Give me the juicy details. Need some juicy juice.”
“Nevermind, get out of my apartment.”
“Uh, this is my apartment.”
“My point still stands,” you make another face at his outfit, “you look like the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.”
Vernon purses his lips, scooting his chair closer to yours. He’s unfazed by your insult, far used to your defenses being higher up than Fort Knox. He looks up at you with his pretty lashes and deceivingly sweet caramel eyes, leaning his head along the backrest. “C’mon, tell me what’s bothering you,” he says in a gentle tone, coaxing you open.
He always knew how to do it for you, a little bit of sweet talking and that clear open gaze always reduced you to shreds in university. For him, it always took a good meal and some sci-fi movies to get him to talk. That must be why you’ve stayed friends for so long, you two knew how to connect.
Finally you crack, kicking off your shoes and hoping the sharp end doesn’t land on his cat. You hear Luna meow in protest but she’s got great reflexes. Unbuttoning the first three buttons of your stuffy blazer, you air out your cleavage, not caring about Vernon’s gaze. He’s seen worse.
“Remember Jeon Jungkook? Majored in graphic design.”
“Ah, yeah. The guy who like, lived at the gym and the dining hall? Haven’t seen him in a minute,” his eyes seem to glaze over the glory days, reminiscing in the simultaneous safetynet and stressor that made up your early twenties, “didn’t you guys hit it off real well? Like I remember you ditched like—three sci-fi nights to study with him. Who even studies at 1AM?”
“Yeah, we did,” and you can’t help but frown at as you remember the 7-Eleven runs, the utter warmth you felt when he would wipe a stray rice grain off your cheek, and how happy you felt to laugh so much with him it hurt, “but uh. Jisoo got drunk last night, because they had a fight. And she sort of admitted to me that she sabotaged our relationship and told Jungkook I wasn’t interested in him so they could start dating. Two years later and here we are.”
A pause. And then, “Want a beer?”
Vernon doesn’t even wait for a response when he gets up, bare feet slapping against the tile as he prepares some drinks and snacks for you.
“That’s pretty fucked up,” he practically sing-songs among the cacophony of popcorn pop-pop-popping in the microwave. The aroma of buttery kernels is all but a relief, reminding you of movie matinees, “and like, she knew you liked him! It was totally obvious, even if you didn’t spell it out for her.”
“Yeah,” you practically gushed to Jisoo those past two months, every waking moment with heart-eyes over the talented graphic designer Jeon Jungkook.
“I can’t believe Jisoo would keep that a secret from you for so long. Like, can you even trust her anymore?”
“Don’t know, was she even my bestfriend or was I just a good roommate to her?” you ask. Vernon is holding two beers in one hand and a bag of popcorn by the tips of his fingers in the other, careful to not burn himself. Opening the beer for you, you thank him and take a long swig.
“Well, good thing you’re still not in love with him or whatever. That would really suck. Unless—”
The look on your face says it all. You’re practically snotting into your bottle, your face tucked into your chin as you fight hard to stop the tears you’ve been suppressing for the last two years. “Don’t give me your pity,” you garble, turning away from the sad look Vernon gives you as he wraps his arms around you.
The tears are soft and gentle, flowing freely onto the cotton of Vernon’s arms as you let it out.
“‘M’not,” he concedes, rubbing his chin into your neck. He really is a lot like Luna, just like his cat ready to give you affection. “Let’s just, get some take-out and watch Hamilton or something.”
He lets you wear his matching sweat suit, lime green, as you order Thai food and rap along to Hamilton’s sick beats. Vernon does a better job keeping the flow, but you’re having a good time being his hype man as he parades around the living room like it’s 1776.
You go home that night around ten o’clock, feeling noticeably lighter and more relaxed. Be that it may you are still wearing the sweatpants and heels ensemble, you feel comforted.
The apartment is quiet when you walk in, not a single light turned on. You get a slice of the city lights bleeding in from the organza curtains, which allow you to kick off your heels and hobble to where you think the kitchen counter is.
Today is Jisoo’s day to cook dinner. You can tell she decided to cook today from the faint smell of Japanese curry and a small unwashed plate in the sink. Whenever it was someone’s turn, they usually left an extra bowl or serving in it for the other roommate when they got home. Unsurprisingly, you find no such thing on the counter or in the fridge.
You’re not upset, but rather decided. If Jisoo is going to let your friendship fade off with no intention of redeeming herself, then you should give her the same amount of energy back. You realize now the apology she gave last night wasn’t for you, but empty words to make her feel better and mend whatever toxicity she’s created in her own relationships. People like Namjoon and Vernon reminded you that you didn’t need to try and earn other people’s friendships.
It’s disappointing, but the feeling is all but too familiar.
If you could describe Jisoo as anything, it would be the color pink. Blushing, beautiful, beguiling pink. The way she flushes when Jungkook does an uncalled for grandiose gesture of romance, or when she wears a hot magenta number when she’s hosting a fashion show. Jisoo is the personification of La vie en rose, unbothered and unabashed.
But now all you see when you think of Jisoo? Nothing but red.
With that, you go in your room and untack the polaroid of you and Jisoo at the carnival last month, putting it away in your junk drawer to be forgotten.
“You’re running away.”
“Am not.”
“Are too,” that interjection comes from Vernon’s roommate, Jung Hoseok. He’s been watching you two bicker over work for the past hour while he plays GTA5, failing to get a good hard carry because you and Vernon are too busy discussing whatever finishing touches you need on your final draft.
“No one asked for your opinion, Jung,” you throw over your shoulder.
“I’m just saying,” Hoseok flicks his wrist and nabs a tank, “you never wanna go home, you eat all our food, and I found your pyjamas in my laundry basket.”
“You said your basket was the blue one,” you hiss under your breath.
“The navy blue one,” Vernon chirps unhelpfully, “not the electric blue one.”
Hoseok hits “save” on his campaign, disconnecting from his PS4 and stretching his lean limbs. “I mean, we could use a third roommate,” Hoseok jokes, getting up from the couch and grabbing a handful of M&Ms from your bowl, “you do make a bomb mac n’cheese.”
“Appreciated,” you relent when Hoseok presses a kiss to your cheek and tells Vernon he’ll be back late working, leaving you and Vernon alone in their shared apartment. When Hoseok is gone, you stare at the door, tilting your head, “y’know,” you remark, “Hoseok’s a cool guy, why did I never hang out with him in college?”
“Because he was stoned the majority of senior year and you just didn’t vibe with that crowd.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“But, you’re trying to change the subject,” Vernon carefully untacks your hands from your keyboard, knowing that you two have already been done with this month's issue and you’re now just mindlessly re-reading emails. “You’ve been here since Thursday, and now it’s Saturday. And as much as Hoseok and I like having you around so you can wake me up before we go to work, it’d be nice to throw me a bone and let me in on what you’re thinking right now.”
You frown, noting Vernon’s large hand covering your laptop closed. He isn’t going to remove his hand anytime soon unless you talk. “Jungkook’s helping Jisoo pack up her half of the apartment this weekend and I don’t want to be there,” you say, short and simple.
“You miss her?”
“Yeah,” you admit honestly. You hate this version of yourself, unable to even look at Jisoo nowadays despite the fact you’re under the same roof for the remainder of the month. It’s hard to believe that the roommate from six years ago finally got under your skin, cancelling out all the years of friendship because of one silly relationship, “sad she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.”
“Did you talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you reply despondently, “if she cared at all she would’ve to apologize again by now.”
Vernon figures, and his neutral expression doesn’t change as he leads you to the couch, brushing away Hoseok’s things so you two can get comfy. You busy yourself with the remote, exiting the PS4 homepage to scroll Netflix.
“And are you trying to get over him?”
“I mean, yeah,” you have been, but it’s a little hard when you’ve been contentedly pining. It was easy to keep your feelings bottled up because you originally thought Jisoo and Jungkook were meant to be for each other for the past two years. Now you're still pining but ruefully bitter at Jisoo.
“It’s not fair, y’know. She broke girl code, bros before hoes. Or is it chicks before dicks?” Vernon shakes his head at his lame attempt to get you to smile, which works anyway because Vernon’s silly and his sense of humor always gets you a little loose. “It’s your house too, you shouldn’t feel like you don’t belong there.”
“Well I was supposed to help her move out this weekend, and I’d prefer it if Jungkook didn’t know what was going on.”
“What?” your friend furrows his thick brows together, tucking his hands under his knees as he leans into your stubborn expression. “You’re gonna let Jungkook go on with his life not knowing that his relationship is based on a lie. That’s not cool. Even if you’re into him, he’s still your friend.”
Damn, when did Vernon get so good at giving advice? Truth is Vernon’s always been good at dishing advice, you’ve just been privy to what you wanted to reveal to him. The first year or so being together outside of college was always about work, saving each other’s asses to ensure you two got that promotion and aim higher and higher. Now that goal is out of the way, and what better way to reconnect over some shoddy romance straight out of a Degrassi special?
“I know,” you hug your knees tight to your chest, “when I’m ready, okay?”
“Okay,” he agrees, because he’s not a pusher, “do you know the best way to get over someone?”
“What?”
“The best way to get over someone, is to get under someone," he emphasizes that point with his hands, sliding one under the other with a wiggle of his thick brows.
You slap him on the shoulder, “Vern, you disgust me.”
“But it works!”
“I’m not going on Tinder to find a fuckbuddy.”
“You don’t have to look on Tinder or Tumble.”
“Bumble.”
“Whatever,” and his eyes flicker to his lap, where his pale fingertips turn red as he grips the edge of a throw pillow. "If you really don't wanna find someone, I can help."
Is Vernon offering himself up? He is offering to fuck your brains out in the hope that you could inevitably fuck out your interest in Jungkook? Your eyes flicker over to Vernon's form on the couch, who's tucked in the couch just as you are.
It’s true that you find Vernon attractive, and to some extent he definitely finds you attractive as well otherwise he wouldn’t have suggested the idea. It’s just that in college you never viewed him in that kind of light, probably because you were always so caught up in Jungkook. But tonight you can’t seem to ignore the eagerness hidden in Vernon’s carmine gaze, and how shiny and touchable his chocolate locks look under the setting sun.
“I don’t want our friendship to change,” you reply slowly, furrowing your brows. “I appreciate it, but I don’t know. It sounds like a temporary fix.”
“Can’t knock it if you don’t try it,” and out of curiosity, you don’t shy away when Vernon leans over to you, squeezing himself between the couch so he can tuck you in his arms. “I want to help you, but only if you want to.”
Maybe it’s the frustration you feel with Jisoo, Jungkook’s ignorance, or the fact that you haven’t felt physical pleasure in such a long time, but you soften into Vernon’s hold. He’s relaxed, nothing betraying him as he waits patiently for your answer. You’ve always admired how much he kept up his “cool as a cucumber” demeanor. He isn’t the type of guy to let life pass him by, but he’s the kind of person who walks along life, embracing the ups and downs like old friends. He’s the ocean waves that crest along the shore, pushing and pulling along without a care in the world.
He’s the textbook opposite of Jeon Jungkook, which is why you give Vernon the okay to lean in and press his lips against yours.
His kisses are soft, and he takes great care in making sure you’re comfortable with this new step in your relationship. It almost feels as if you’re cutting corners, and you can’t help but feel a little guilty that you revel in the way Vernon’s hands trail under your too-large t-shirt.
The pleasure you’ve ached for is there, bubbling low in the pit of your belly. It’s hard to get you out of your mind however, because this man isn’t the one you love. His kisses hold no power, only brief reprieve. Your heart doesn’t palpitate and your palms don’t sweat, you’re just languid.
You’re greedy and selfish, but you remind yourself that it’s okay to allow yourself of these freedoms, even for a little bit. As Vernon finds your sweet spot that has you rolling your hips against his, you find that temporary fix isn’t a bad start at all.
When you trudge back to your apartment that night after much reluctance, your face is still flushed and you think you smell a little too much like Vernon’s cologne. But the fact that still stands is that you're satiated, and you feel a tiny percent closer to moving on.
The television is glowing with a terrible reality TV show, angry brides upset over cake layers or whatever. Jungkook and Jisoo have fallen asleep on the couch, surrounded by half-empty boxes. Jungkook has his arm lazily over Jisoo, her petite body fitting perfectly between his chest and the crook of his neck.
You scoff when you spy Jisoo's bedazzled manicure digging into Jungkook's bicep, as if someone's going to take him away if she doesn't hold tight.
With stiff muscles you spare one look at Jungkook, ignoring the pang in your chest as you weave between boxes to turn the TV off. Barely an iota of your feelings have dissipated since your previous tryst with Vernon not an hour ago. Looking at Jungkook brings it all back, unfortunately. You suppose the feelings will pass with time. The soft hum of the television ceases, and you’re bathed in a room that feels dark and empty, despite the apparent life in the room.
There’s some bleary talk coming from the couch as you walk to your bedroom, and if Jungkook is sleepily mumbling your name in question, you pretend you don’t hear.
“So, where’s y/n? I thought she was going to help us pack.”
It’s an innocent enough question, as Jungkook scans the corner of the living room hallway that leads to the bedrooms. You haven’t come out yet. He knows that you love sleeping in on the weekends, but he hopes the smell of fresh food will coax you to the table. His pan is sizzling in protest, telling Jungkook to quit talking and flip the hashbrowns. He's fried up three, in the hopes you’d be up for some crispy potatoes. He knows how much you love potatoes, especially at 2AM when you’re craving fries and a McFlurry combo.
Instead Jisoo mutters, “You toasted too much bread, you know I don’t eat bread like this,” she’s pulling slice by slice out of the toaster, until there’s a stack of six golden toasts in the middle of the kitchen table.
A little part of him wishes to quell the precursor to the argument there. It would be so easy for Jungkook to say, “the extras are for me” because he’s trying to gain weight, and that would be that.
Instead he continues with his unanswered question and replies honestly, “I made extra toast for y/n, babe. She was supposed to help us pack but I haven’t seen her all weekend.” But he’s pretty sure you came home last night, unless that was his imagination.
Jisoo pulls a carafé of apple juice out of the fridge, pouring the amber liquid into two glass cups. “Ah, she said she had some last minute things to do for work. Y’know, Big Hit always wants a big hit.”
He chuckles, tilting his head as Jisoo gives him a small smile from the kitchen table. Jisoo is always good at cheesy jokes. “She must love her job, huh.”
“Yeah.”
“Her articles are really good, too,” the air smells like butter and Italian seasoning, as he places one hash brown on Jisoo’s plate, and two on his. He knows you edit in the Arts & Media section, and loves how you make it a point to include video games and modern graphics when it’s deemed appropriate. “She did a piece on the evolution of RPG and I thought her commentary was really spot-on.”
He brings breakfast over to the table, while Jisoo places two slices of toast on his plate, one buttered and one with strawberry preserves. Breakfast is a quiet, but peaceful affair. Jungkook takes note of how Jisoo takes extra long to complete her meal, her fork creating ribbons in her little blob of magenta jam. He allows himself to complete his first hashbrown and a slice of toast before asking the difficult question.
“Are you and y/n okay?” and he also takes note when Jisoo’s ministrations on her jelly stop, as she looks up at him with her big brown eyes.
“We’re fine,” she insists, “just normal roommate issues, I promise.”
“Maybe I should text y/n,” Jungkook says, pulling out his phone. “Lemme help you fix this, wouldn’t want you and her in a bad place when you’re about to move out.”
“Baby, why are you so concerned about y/n?” Jisoo croons while his thumb hovers over your contact, his screen showing a two-year old selfie you two took during a study session early on in your friendship. He can’t remember the last time you two took a picture together out of spite, one without Jisoo. Jisoo’s hand pulls him away from his phone, rubbing small circles between his palm.
He wants to ask, why aren’t you? But he sees the terseness in Jisoo’s smile, as her eyes fix between the interlocked fingers. He has a feeling he’s hovering somewhere he isn’t allowed to be in. Maybe it really is roommate stuff and it’s none of his business, but he feels a little insulted being left out because you and Jungkook are just as much best friends as you were in college.
Or are you?
This question plagues him throughout the day, and when Jungkook packs enough boxes for the weekend and says he needs to go home, Jisoo for once doesn’t argue. Normally Jisoo would cling to him like a koala, murmur simultaneously adorable and dirty things in his ear and lead him to her bedroom to coop up for hours on end. But Jisoo says she’s tired and needs some alone time, which is also fine.
He doesn’t feel like going home, and instead heads straight to the gym. A couple pumps wouldn’t hurt, and it would clear his head. It’s nearly five in the evening when his body is thrumming with the afterglow of his post-workout, and he decides to take a little cool down in the mall and treat himself to a smoothie.
It must be kismet when he sees you coming out of the bookstore, looking a little winded but no less professional in your beige blazer set and rose gold iPad. Whenever he hung around your apartment with Jisoo and you’d come home from work, he’d make it a point to acknowledge your plethora of multicolored skirt-suits. He never needs to be professional in his place of work, and admires how much effort you put in.
“Hey!” he jogs up to you, and he catches the way your shoulders jump at his voice. “We missed you today.”
Your smile curls into something dry, and you twist your spine like rusty hinges to face him. In turn, his smile dims a little, wondering if he’s doing something wrong. Maybe you’re tired? He catches the line of sweat that glistens your baby hairs, and how your hair is done up but has fallen a few centimeters with some pieces falling out.
“Jungkook,” you exhale, “lifting boxes wasn’t enough of a workout?”
“You know me,” he replies stiffly, hiking his backpack higher upon his shoulder. Why does this conversation feel so awkward? “So, finishing up work? Sucks you have to work on a Sunday.”
“Ah, it wasn’t so bad,” you face relaxes a little as you explain your work, “it was children’s day at the bookstore and they were watching Disney movies. I’m writing a piece on how I believe Ratatouille is Pixar’s magnum opus. Interviewed some kids, I wanted an expert opinion.”
“Ratatouille is the superior film,” he declares with a firm nod, “after all, anyone can cook.” He revels in the small smile he manages to retrieve from you, immediately understanding the inside joke. If he came out of the gym five minutes earlier, he probably would’ve been able to catch you in the bookstore. What a shame, he would’ve loved to see you play around with the kids.
At the mention of food, the mall manages to silence itself enough for him to catch the grumbling coming from your stomach. He laughs when your cheeks heat.
“I was on my way to get some smoothies,” he jabs a thumb in the direction of the food court, “wanna catch up and get a bite?”
“Oh, I don’t know, I have a lot of work to edit,” disappointment pangs in his chest at your easy rejection, but he ignores it, “I kinda wanna save some money too, still not sure if I’m staying in the apartment after Jisoo moves.”
He doesn’t know what compels him to take your shoulders and wheel you in the direction of the food court, much to your protest and whines. “C’mon, explain to me why Ratatouille is the magnum opus—I need to defend why The Incredibles is superior. I’ll treat you to dinner.”
“What? I can pay for my own food—”
“And I can’t treat my best friend to a nice meal once in a while?”
That has you stopping in your tracks, and Jungkook nearly barrels his chest into your head if not for the grippy soles of his Adidas Ultraboosts. He can’t see your face, but his hands note how your muscles cord tightly between the cotton of your blazer.
He doesn’t understand why you’re so tense. Was it because he called you his best friend? Well, you are? At one point he felt that way, early on in college. The position just stuck with you. And when Jisoo told him you weren’t interested, he was perfectly fine with the platonic relationship. It was nice to have someone to talk media and video games to, someone not as chaotic as Jimin and someone not as deterred as Yoongi.
Although, maybe as of late he hasn’t been so much of a friend. It’s no one’s fault, he’s been caught up with work and Jisoo’s move, he hasn’t said so much as a “hey how are you” when you’re around. He can’t blame you.
Suddenly his mind blanks, the mall fading away as he focuses on how small you look as your eyes dart between the parking lot and the food court. Jisoo and Jungkook have been so caught up on each other lately, that he fears you’re starting to separate yourself.
“Um, this place is good,” you tug him by the elbow and lead him to a fast food joint.
When he picks up both your orders and comes over to your saved table, you’re talking animatedly on the phone. You’re laughing, looking at Jungkook as if he’s the one intruding and you’re muttering a hushed “sorry” as you continue the tail end of the conversation.
“Yes, Joonie. Go with section two, I know my shit. I’m your Work Wife for a reason, Umji in PR could never compare,” you’re giggling like you’re five years younger, and Jungkook feels stuck in a timelapse.
He watches you go, throwing around names and terms that he’s so lost on but so desperate to understand. He knows nothing about your life other than the one that’s tied with Jisoo, which is a damn shame. Since when did he inevitably downgrade you from “best friend” to “his girlfriend’s roommate?”
“I’m sorry,” you turn your phone over and push it to the side, giving Jungkook a smile as well, albeit weaker, “let’s dig in!”
To his relief the dinner goes as good as it should be. You have your tray practically overflowing at the seams, all on Jungkook’s dime. It has his heart swelling with pride, he hasn’t seen you eat in a long time. There’s fries spilling out from the corners, and two sandwiches because you couldn’t decide between a chicken sandwich and a burger.
Food gets you amicable, and he doesn’t mind when he does most of the talking. You’re engrossed in his talk, lettuce hanging out of your mouth as you’re rapt with attention as he recalls a story that happened at work recently with Mingyu. You ask questions in all the right places and he sucks up all your attention like a happy pill, and it feels nice to be able to lead a conversation for once.
“Jeez, I’m getting the burger sweats,” you giggle to yourself, and his smile brightens at your positive change in attitude. Food always helps.
When you remove your thick high-collar blazer, that’s when he sees it.
“Seeing someone?” he asks, eyes flickering curiously towards the violet bruises that bloom across your neck.
“What–oh,” you have the audacity to look embarrassed, hands clutching your neck like a shield, “no, just a hookup.”
A messy hookup, too. Unless you had a thing for showing off marks, which doesn’t seem to be the case. “Didn’t peg you for someone who hooks up,” he says more to himself than you, but you catch him on his impulse jab.
Your eyes narrow and your defenses go up, “I’m trying to get over someone,” you snip back, busying your hands by crushing up your greasy sandwich wrappers.
“Am I allowed to state my opinion?”
“Since you asked so politely, no.”
He sighs, “I just don’t think that’s the best way to get over someone,” heck, Jungkook doesn’t even know who exactly you’re trying to get over. He just knows that you’re far too smart and independent to let yourself resort to such matters.
“It isn’t, but it’s really the best option as of now,” you reply curtly.
And his gaze saddens as he sees you fold your blazer over your arm, indicating that your time is up. Jungkook is aware the comment he made is out of line, and it weakens him knowing that you don’t even want to pick a fight with him. He can’t even find it in himself to apologize properly.
He doesn’t know if he’s more sad that you’re pining over someone unattainable or upset at himself for not knowing you’ve been harboring feelings for someone. If you really think hooking up is your only option, you must be really hung about whoever you’re into as of late.
“If it’s worth anything,” Jungkook adds, wanting to leave on a high note, “fuck that guy. He clearly doesn’t deserve you.”
A small, secret smile plays on your lips, “Yeah, I like to believe that.”
“I’m anxious,” Namjoon’s mantra makes the whole energy in the room wobbly, paired with the fact the two of you are squished between cardboard boxes as Jungkook aimlessly moves things around like a Tetris screen.
The only time you feel remotely comfortable basking in your home is when Jisoo is gone. Oh-so conveniently is the Big Hit building undergoing maintenance today, so you and Namjoon have decided to work from home in your apartment. Although you thought by now that Jisoo’s boxes would be long gone and tucked away in Jungkook’s place, instead you’re living in an episode of Ed, Edd and Eddy and the cardboard is practically wall-to-wall. You also thought by now that Jungkook would have no reason to show up unannounced anymore, but apparently that’s not the case.
“I have, anxiety,” Namjoon adjusts his glasses for the nth time this afternoon, brain not fixed enough to focus on the screen of his chrome MacBook, “anxiety, anxiety. I can’t right now. I need my weighted blanket and a pillow.”
“Namjoon, I can get both of those for you if we just send in this last spread,” you coo gently, as if placating a baby. You make brief eye contact with Jungkook from the other side of the room, his lips quirking in amusement as he stacks a box of clothes by the kitchen.
“Do you feel my palms? My palms, they’re like a fucking fountain you need to feel them—” your Wusband approaches you like a zombie, leaning over you and tripping over his criss-crossed legs before he topples over you.
“Blegh, get off of me you sweat giant!” you cry with a good-natured laugh, although the grip of Namjoon’s palms under your shoulders are damp and slimy, “Joon, I can’t get you your blanket if you’re crushing my boobs.”
Namjoon finally relents, untacking himself to rest his chin on your glass coffee table. “Fine.”
“Look over the last column and I’ll bring your blanket, okay?”
Pushing yourself off the ground, you shuffle your way out of the living room through the maze of boxes and into the hallway. It feels like your apartment is less of an apartment and more of a storage space when you’re trapped in-between two lines of boxes, and Jungkook effectively blocking you from entering your room. He was just in the living room but now he’s come from the linen closet, standing between the entrance of your room.
“Sorry,” he pops his head out from a smaller box, one filled with designer costume jewelry.
“It’s fine,” you chirp, barely making eye contact as you shuffle over the boxes.
Your toe drags over the lid of one of the open boxes in an attempt to move diagonally. You nearly crash your face into the hardwood if not for Jungkook’s arm stretching out to catch you. In seconds he manages to catch all your weight in one hand, pulling you to him with your hip pressed against his. Your breath traps itself in your neck. Your subconscious fears that if you speak now, you’ll babble about how attractive it is that he’s able to catch you as easily as grabbing a light sheet of paper.
“Careful,” his voice rumbles in his throat as he regards you with a wan smile.
Your “thanks” is barely uttered as you slip into your room, heaving your weighted blanket and a pillow in your arms to let Namjoon borrow.
The burgundy quilted fabric is hunched over your shoulder, draped around your body so it’s easier for you to carry on your back. You try to eradicate the memory of Jungkook’s arms, lean and strong as he held you to him moments before.
Ugh, you thought messing around with Vernon would stop your silly pining. It seems that it’ll take more than a couple rounds to satiate your curiosity. For such a kind guy, Jungkook seems like a wolf in sheep’s clothing when it comes to the bedroom.
You can imagine him being so kind in the beginning, coaxing you to wan and bend to his every wish and command. And then when you keen a little too hard at the attention, you bet a switch would flip and he’d grab you—
The blanket flops around your back, and you’re sorely reminded that you’re thirsting over a taken man, yet again.
Jungkook makes it extremely difficult for him to be hateable. It’s by nature that he’s just so damn likeable. Heck, he’s pretty much packed seventy percent of the things Jisoo should be packing right now.
Making sure not to trip again, on your feelings and your blanket, you successfully reach a tired Namjoon. You tuck your koala-shaped pillow under your co-editor’s arms, and drape the heavy blanket over him like a cape. He’s giving you a thumbs up and a toothless smile, the previous meltdown overcome as he focuses on finishing the last of today’s work. He’s slipped on some noise-cancelling earphones, presumably filled with generic coffee-house music or rain playlists.
Wordlessly you go to your nook to prepare some tea. It’s getting late and a warm cup would distract you from the impending deadline. Despite the fact that you and Namjoon are 99% of the way done, his previous freak-out has you on live-wire and you could use a little caffeine.
Placing three mugs on the counter you call, “Jungkook, tea?”
“Yes please,” you stiffen when you feel Jungkook magically appear right behind you, his head peering over your shoulder, “with milk and honey.”
Deciding to give Jungkook the beehive-shaped mug because it’s very on-brand for him, you begin to steep the leaves in your kettle while he spoons the honey.
“So,” his words are slow as the drip of honey, the amber goo taking its time to descend into his mug as it falls from the dipper. “Is that the guy you’re trying to get over?”
Jungkook lifts his brows towards Namjoon, who is softcore jamming to his white noise playlist. It’s cute as to how curious Jungkook is about Namjoon. While you try to keep your work life separate, there really isn’t much backstory to your personal life to warrant that kind of divide.
“Namjoon,” you state aloud, watching Namjoon sing badly to himself, “why, are you gonna beat him up for me?”
“I can take him,” you can practically hear Jungkook’s chest pop out.
With a roll of your eyes, you reach to kill the heat off the tea kettle, “No need. He isn’t the guy I’m trying to get over.”
“Oh, he’s your fuck buddy then?”
“Shit!” being caught off guard, you grab at the handle of your kettle without a pot holder, burning your fingertips. In seconds Jungkook’s larger hand encases your own, pulling you over to the sink to soak your fingers in cool running water.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jungkook is chanting like a sinner at church, searching for any sign of pain in your visage, “I shouldn’t have asked while you’re working with a hot stove.”
You suppress a sigh, relaxing your fingers as Jungkook soothes the burn with his gentle hold, “Shouldn’t have asked in the first place,” you mumble.
“I know,” he replies, “guess I’m just feeling a little left out. We don’t talk like we used to. I guess I’m getting a little too nosy for my own good, aren’t I?”
You don’t understand what’s going on with his incessant babbling as of late, but you chalk it up to work stress and Jisoo’s move. Having no answers to his honest reply, you gently untack your red palm from his grip, assuring him that you’re fine.
Namjoon steps into your kitchenette, being surprisingly careful as he takes your potholder to pour himself a cup of tea. If the tea is oversteeped and bitter he doesn’t say anything, only leans against the counter as he regards you two with slow sips. “You alright?”
“M’fine,” you reply stubbornly, avoiding Jungkook’s worried stare.
Namjoon holds out his hand, “Hand.”
“No—”
“Hand.”
His deep voice coerces you, and you immediately slap the back of your palm onto Namjoon’s. Your partner brushes his golden hands over the tiny blister that’s forming over your fingertips. “Can’t have my Work Wife outta commission.”
“Your Work Wife is fine,” you gripe back.
Your co-worker’s eyes flicker over to Jungkook’s for a brief second, Jungkook regarding him in curiosity as he stares at your connected palms. “I have some aloe in my bag for sunburns,” Namjoon offers helpfully, ignoring the weird glances, “I’ll give it to you in a bit. Also, I’ve overcome my sudden bout of stress and I’m ready to email our progress to Victoria. We’re done for the day.”
“Awesome, thanks Joonie,” you exhale, relaxing against the sink, “wanna go eat somewhere?”
“There’s a niche place in Itaewon if you wanna check it out?” Namjoon offers.
Jungkook interjects, “Jisoo ordered pizza if you guys wanna share with us?”
“Pizza also sounds good—”
“We don’t wanna interrupt your alone time,” you gracefully cut in, stepping in front of Namjoon despite the fact that he’s easily towering over you.
Jungkook snorts, “I’ll have enough alone time with her when she moves in, don’t worry. Besides, I ordered three pies because I wanted to try three different flavor combos. I need two additional judges.”
“Thanks Jungkook but,” you stifle a cry when Namjoon jabs you in the back with his thumb. It’s pressing, digging into the small of your back as if he’s trying to telepathically tell you that you’re being rude, “but… I don’t know if I can eat three slices! Namjoon on the other hand, can probably eat enough to fairly judge.”
“Great,” Jungkook’s smile is blinding, causing your grin to stiffen as he looks for his phone to shoot Jisoo a quick text that they’re having dinner for four.
Once Jungkook’s out of earshot, Namjoon tugs you by the sleeve, “The hell was that?” he hisses in your ear, “you look like you’re about to shit and piss your pants at the same time.”
“I just don’t feel comfortable eating with them,” you cross your arms in defiance. You think back to just a week ago where you and Jisoo reluctantly attempted to eat breakfast together one morning. You provided minimal small talk while Jisoo clinged to her phone, replying to you in non-committal clipped tones.
“Do I want to know?”
“No.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
“No!” you retort, “you got me into this mess, you’re gonna stay with me ‘till the end.”
“I don’t know what you want from me, woman,” Namjoon throws his arms out exasperatedly, oolong tea nearly sloshing onto his hand, “just suck it up or I revoke your bragging rights to that snag you got on our spread next Monday.”
“Not my fault you couldn’t get Kim Taeyeon on the spread,” you smirk.
“Well I didn’t so happen to stalk the Sephora she frequents for the past two weeks—”
“I didn’t stalk her I just so happened to need a new Fenty Gloss Bomb every other day—”
“I’m home, Jungkookie!”
Your face contorts, your playful energy melting to the hardwood as your previous banter with Namjoon evaporates into thin air. Work bags in one hand and three boxes of pizza balancing in the other, Jisoo kicks off her heels somewhere across the door and places the pizza on the dining table.
Jungkook immediately appears by her side, and you look away and Jisoo plants a heavy kiss on his lips. She cracks open one eye as she notices you and Namjoon hanging by the kitchenette, “Oh,” she mumbles at her audience, “you’re here?”
Yes, you bimbo. I’m here in my own apartment.
“I guess you didn’t read my text that they’ll be joining us for dinner,” Jungkook cuts in good-naturedly, “we have way too much pizza anyway. Have a seat, guys.”
Jungkook navigates the kitchen as easily as your own, and you slump in your chair while Namjoon exchanges pleasantries with Jisoo. She looks impeccable, hair in a tight chignon and a tight navy dress as she converses with your co-editor.
“I’m starving,” Jungkook announces, making sure to place a slice on Jisoo’s plate. He shuffles through the other boxes, making brief eye contact with you when he decides to put a slice on yours as well, “you like these toppings, right?”
You regard the greasy, hearty piece of cheese and bread with a curt nod. You feel Jisoo’s eyes laser on your skin, “Yeah, thanks Kook.”
Namjoon, Jisoo and Jungkook mostly stir up the conversation, you opting to eat as slow as possible to avoid any conversation. It’s easy to blend back and let them take over, as Jisoo loves to talk about her fashion firm and Namjoon is a great listener.
Jungkook and Namjoon make it a point to direct the conversation to you from time to time, and you let the ball leave your court as soon as it lands. You prefer to keep your responses short and simple, especially when Jisoo is so eager to talk about the new silk drapes she’s installing for Jungkook’s windows.
Your phone buzzes in your lap, and you discreetly look under the table to read the incoming text message.
vernie bernie: would u like to do the devil’s dance tonight
vernie bernie: or a tickle to my pickle?
vernie bernie: beatin ya bean?
You: ohmyGOD
vernie bernie: or y’know, u could just come ovr and chill. Hobi made some bomb tres leches
You: call. Ill come after dinner
“Are you okay, y/n?” your head bounces up to meet Jungkook’s gaze, “you’ve barely eaten and you haven’t talked much.”
“Oh you know, she’s just stressed about the upcoming spread,” Namjoon steps in for you, and you send him a discrete, but grateful smile. He’s always impeccable at reading the room, “she’s just nervous about her interview with Kim Taeyeon, but I think you did her interview justice.”
“No way, the singer Kim Taeyeon?” Jungkook gushes, regarding you with stars in his eyes, “your interviews are always so great, y/n. You ask really good questions. Like that one spread about Lee Yonghwa’s art gallery? Really cool.”
You notice the way Jisoo presses her lips together, a thin line as if she’s trying to seal away words that she’ll regret saying. She’s jealous, and you can’t help the blush of pride that fills your veins as you raise a secret brow at her.
“Right, you got nothing to worry about,” Namjoon squeezes your shoulder encouragingly, as if you’d get his double-meaning.
“Thanks,” you reply, pushing your plate away and standing up, “I’m actually gonna go head to Vernon’s for a bit, though. He wants to double check his work before we email Victoria.”
It’s a bald-faced lie, Namjoon sent the files to Victoria right before dinner, but he isn’t going to argue.
“Okay,” Namjoon thanks Jungkook and Jisoo for the meal, stacking his plate atop yours, “I’ll walk out with you.”
“It’s only been twenty minutes, though,” you see the slight panic in Jungkook’s gaze as he watches you quickly clean up for you and Namjoon. You can’t quite pin why he’s so concerned, after all he has been acting strange as of late.
“Yeah, I’m full,” you reply curtly, licking your lips and avoiding his gaze. You already know what he wants to say, that he’s been in your apartment all day and all he’s seen you eat is stale chips and tea, “but we can do this again.” But hopefully not.
“If you’re coming home late again,” it’s the first time Jisoo has spoken to you directly. You tilt your head to her slowly, watching the plastic smile carefully carved onto her expression. You see the contrived care and concern between her brows, “please try to be quieter next time, the last time you came home late you woke Jungkookie up.”
Snapping your gaze to Jungkook you plaster on a thick smile, “Sorry Jungkook—”
“What? No, it’s fine!” he furrows his brows in confusion, finally able to detect the strange tension between the two housemates, “I barely heard you—”
“Maybe I’ll just stay the night at Vernon’s,” your eyes trail over to the pajama set you immediately switched into when you got home today, “wouldn’t want to disturb you two.”
“Good,” Jisoo’s tone is saccharine and clipped as she tacks on a, “have fun.”
It’s laudable, how much Jisoo wants to make a fool out of you but you won’t have it. You revel in the perplexed expression as Jungkook’s gaze darts back and forth between the two of you, wanting to butt in but unsure of how to approach it. Not giving him the time to, you bid the couple a goodnight and make a fast getaway. Heck, you don’t even take your work stuff with you.
Once you’re out the door, Namjoon wordlessly gives you a hug. You sigh gratefully into his embrace.
The next time Jungkook sees you, he reads the room before anything. You and Jisoo’s apartment is scarily empty, almost clinical. He’s tried texting you a few times after his failed-not-failed attempt at catching up at the mall and his awkward conversation concerning Namjoon, but you always reply back with vague replies and an unpromised promise of meeting up sometime soon.
It dulls him to think that you’ve given up on him as a friend. But can you blame him? He needs to keep an appropriate distance for Jisoo, after all, she doesn’t like it when he gets too close to other women unless it’s strictly professional. Usually Jisoo’s jealousy inevitably works itself out and Jungkook doesn’t pose any problems because he has very few girl friends, but for some reason your friendship with him specifically gets Jisoo stiff in the face. Is it because you and Jisoo are so close? Possibly.
But it doesn’t mean you can’t join the same Valorant server with him at 2AM and accidentally bomb each other, or argue over the magnum opus of each film company. Is that not enough?
Jisoo’s working overtime, and Jungkook suggested last night that he move the boxes to the front of the door for easy pick-up when the moving truck arrives. Jisoo promises to buy Thai food in return, and with a kiss emoji she leaves him to audit fabric budgets.
As he glides down to Jisoo’s room he notes that the pictures along the wall have disappeared, and there’s double the amount of boxes in the hallway. It seems that you’re moving out too. To where, he doesn’t know but he hopes it isn’t too far.
He chides Jisoo remotely when he sees that her room is completely intact, and he makes moves to pack up her things.
That’s when he finds his letter. Not a love letter to Jisoo, but a love letter to you. Deep in the recesses of Jisoo’s junk drawer, is a faded lavender envelope with a pressed cream colored baby’s breath taped up in plastic. The glue is yellow and old, clearly served its purpose due to the fact that the letter is already opened and the contents rumpled.
Hey Pretty Girl–
He immediately stuffs the letter back in its holder, stricken at his messy handwriting from two years ago. It feels like he found a time capsule, another version of Jungkook confessing to you. He used to call you Pretty Girl, not enough for you to catch on to his feelings, but enough for you to understand that he did find you attractive. It was early on in your friendship.
When you first asked him to be study partners for some silly class that had nothing to do with each other’s majors, he gaped like a guppy and pointed to himself. That day he went to class in last night’s clothes and a nest of fluffy strands. “Me?” he felt like absolute trash, and you were probably desperate due to the fact you two were the only seniors in this class, “but you’re a pretty girl… and I’m pretty dumb when it comes to this subject.”
But instead you scoffed and pulled him from his slumped figure, dragging him to the library, with a wink and a “you’re pretty, too.” Those words have burned in his brain since then, as he wasn’t used to getting such off-handed compliments, especially from intelligent girls that wanted more than one night.
For whatever reason you continued seeing his dumb self, even after the semester ended and together registered for one more class for spring.
Whenever you’d go out for ice cream you wouldn’t hesitate to stuff your face and add for extra Oreos and fries, you’d assure Jungkook you’re not normally this much of a slob.
Jungkook would just smile and offer you a napkin and say, “You’re still a pretty girl.”
He fell for you gracefully. There was no regret, no walk of shame, no cliché late night party where you or him could’ve instigated it into the physical. It was all by feel.
However the two of you took your time with your relationship, languidly enjoying the hushed conversations in the library at 2AM, the late night McFlurry runs, the integration of each other’s friends like it was natural. Ergo the lavender love letter. It was a gentle declaration, one he felt pretty confident in.
So color him stupid when you passed him in class with a happy wave, Jungkook dumbfounded at how well you handled his confession. You weren’t oblivious, you just never read it.
But now he knows the declaration was for whatever reason, lost in transit. “I should’ve known,” he whispers in the air, the letter crumpling in his grip. Composing himself, he pinches his brows.
There’s an electronic buzz and a sharp slam of the front door. Judging by the time, you’re home.
You flop onto your mattress, folding an arm over your head to stop the sun from seeping to your eyes. Vernon’s exhausted you, and you barely got away before he could have any say in it. You need a little space, and some time to think.
Just as you close the door to your bedroom, it swings open.
You gape as Jungkook thrusts himself into your bedroom like a deer with horns, looking pale. You follow his gaze, darkened eyes that linger a little too long on your neck again, and you narrow your eyes at him to avert. He looks a little red in the cheeks despite his pallidness, looking like he just got out of bed with messy wavy locks and his signature sweats. Is Jungkook packing for Jisoo again?
Acutely aware that you smell like sweat and sex, you clutch the blankets closer to your body. “Uh, rude.”
He looks uncharastically frantic, waving a letter in his hand, “Did you ever read this?”
“Read what?” you ask, hands reaching out for the envelope.
“My confession letter,” he blurts, having no shame now that all the gears are running through his head. “I wrote you a letter asking you out, because you said you wanted to collect notes like in Letters to Juliet. But I just found it in Jisoo’s drawer, why would it be there?”
And all the pent up frustration that never seemed to escape under Vernon’s sheets, the feelings that never seem to subside, all bubble back to the surface. Now that Jungkook knows, there’s no hiding.
You’re in shock, hands reaching for the letter despite the burn that seeps through your fingertips. Jungkook’s shoulders slump when you do indeed look like it’s your first time seeing this, as if a missing puzzle piece in your timeline has finally been revealed.
“I, I didn’t think you’d write me a letter,” you take the lavender envelope, clutching the letter by your chest like it’s something precious, “that’s so sweet,” you say to yourself.
It dawns on him, “Wait, you knew about this? I knew something weird was going on.”
“Only recently,” you frown.
“And you didn’t think to tell me?” he nearly shouts, causing you to flinch, “no wonder why you were being so weird all this time. How could you let me live the rest of my life knowing this? That my relationship is built on a lie? ”
“I don’t know,” you suddenly feel very small in your mattress as Jungkook rounds up on you, pulling your desk chair closer to your bed, “because you love Jisoo, of course.”
“Well obviously that’s not possible,” and while yes a two-year realtionship ending like this is going to hit him hard tonight, he’s focused on you and the fact that you failed to tell him, “somehow I’d find out. Why wait for me to find out on my own?”
“Because I wanted to protect you!”
“Protect me,” he scoffs, crossing his arms and sneering at you. It causes you to tense up, feeling the telltale signs of tears bubbling to the surface, “you don’t even want to be friends anymore, y/n. I’ve tried to catch up to you so many times, but you keep leaving me hanging. I know I’ve been a pretty bad friend and I get it if you just feel awkward that I liked you, then that’s a shitty reason.”
“Have you ever considered that it’s too late to tell you?” you shoot back, sitting up straight, “yes, I admit I should’ve told you earlier and I’m sorry, but it was a lot for me to process to y’know? Jisoo and I haven’t talked properly in weeks!”
“Oh, so you’ve stopped trying to be friends with Jisoo too, huh? Just like you’re trying to stop being friends with me.”
“No,” you pinch your brows, “she stopped being friends with me! She doesn’t care about me because she has you,” conflict burns in Jungkook’s gaze, and you only serve to fuel the fire, “she’s tried so hard to not involve me in your relationship.”
“Just tell me why you’ve really kept this secret instead of saying you want to protect me like a baby—”
“It’s because I’m in love with you, idiot!”
You blink and back up against the wall of your bedroom, as if you can’t believe that the words came out of your mouth.
It’s quiet again. The sour look evaporates from Jungkook’s face as he watches you suppress your sobs on your mattress. The room seems devoid, sucked out of its color as you’ve cleaned up most of your things, the only thing left being some plain grey sheets and a pillow.
Jungkook’s mind is absolutely reeling, playing back memories from a different point of view.
“When Jisoo told me she sabotaged our relationship so she could date you, I was so upset and didn’t know what to think,” you manage to place the lavender note on your wooden desk, making sure no tears could mar it. “And I thought I could move on and eventually stay friends with the both of you, but the next day Jisoo put all her attention on you and completely ignored me or any attempt to salvage our friendship. She only told me to forgive herself,” you’re hugging yourself, wrapping the blankets around you like a weak embrace, “so I thought if I cut myself out of the picture and forced myself to move on like I should’ve, everything would’ve been okay.”
“So, you would’ve rather kept all this pain to yourself?”
“Yeah,” you give him a teary smile, “because I wanted you to be happy.”
And with an equally sad smile he murmurs, “But I’m not happy.”
Your face falls, and you really look at Jungkook. He’s exhausted as well, slumped in his chair. Has he been trying to grapple along the threads of his relationships, while you’ve been trying to loosen them?
“What a waste of two years,” he slumps in your chair, letting the pieces click into place, “a relationship built on fake love. I was really trying, y’know. I thought I was going crazy.”
The three of you have unknowingly been playing a futile game of Cat’s Cradle, a game that no one wins.
Jungkook looks wistfully out the window, noting the pleasant day that fails to present itself in your tiny room. It feels simultaneously satisfying and bitter when it falls into place, your thoughts finally fitting together for the first time in months. “We could’ve loved each other. For real,” he says, and you silently agree.
You’re still crying, shaking like a leaf in autumn. Jungkook’s arms hover awkwardly over yours, his warmth palpable despite the fact that he hasn’t touched you yet. With a timid smile you allow consent, and you melt like putty in his arms.
“Kookie, ‘m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you murmur into his shoulder, not caring if it hurts when you press your chin into his skin. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”
It’s been so long to have him close like this, the friend you’ve always wanted but never needed. Since college you’ve always imagined a life without him doing just fine, but that doesn’t mean you want to live without him, roommate’s boyfriend or not.
“I’m sorry too,” he sighs back, “this sucks right now, but we’ll be alright.”
The two of you sit in your room until it turns dark and the sky muddles into shades of twilight and egg yolk orange. There’s lulls in the conversation, the two of you filling in the gaps and making sense of the mumbo-jumbo that’s been going on in your consciousness up until this point. Your insantities turn sane, and by the time Jisoo’s making her way back inside with the smell of pad thai, Jungkook is ready. With a squeeze to each other and a press of your lips because you don’t know what to say, you tuck yourself in and pretend to fall asleep.
“Messy, messy, messy,” Vernon sing-songs, knocking his heels against the wall.
The both of you are sitting upside-down, butts attached to the wall connecting to his mattress and your feet hanging in the air. Your mint floral organza socks pad against his Pink Floyd poster, while his yellow tube socks are heeling against some old Polaroids from college. There’s no prospect of sex today, not when shit just hit the fan.
Today you and Vernon are just two old friends and very close co-workers.
“Tell me about it,” you bemoan, frowning at the beige wall, “this whole week’s just been a whole mess. It’s like, warm tuna salad.”
“Gross,” Vernon grimaces at the apt comparison, “so what happens now?”
You sit up on your elbows, looking down at Vernon’s peaceful expression, “What do you mean?”
“Like, are you gonna get together with him?”
You snort, flopping back down on his bed. The blankets fluff around you and you inhale the pine scented sheets. “After all that? No.”
“But you still love him?”
It must sound dumb to still love him after all this time. You wouldn’t be surprised if Vernon thought you’re silly to still hold a place in your heart for someone who has fifteen million things on their plate now. After all the physicality and the space Vernon gave you in his home, your feelings haven’t wavered.
Your companion doesn’t bother waiting for your answer, hearing your answer somewhere in the air as he gets up and throws on his denim jacket. Rolling over your stomach you ask, “Where are you going?”
“Some friends down in printing want to meet up for drinks,” Vernon messes up his hair, making the waves part in that little coiff that makes his jawline look sharp. “I heard Yerin really wanted me to come, so.”
You can’t help the little middle school coo that comes from your lips, causing Vernon to giggle and throw a pillow at you. “Yerin’s cute!” you declare, remembering the petite girl in overalls who’s all about pops of yellow and violet, “you're into her?”
“Nah,” Vernon holds up two hats in his hands, gesturing for you to pick one. “Just figured it was a push in the right direction.”
Crawling out of his bed you stumble in your oversized t-shirt, tucking a finger under your chin as you decide between the emerald bucket hat and the red Ralph Lauren baseball cap. You pull out both hats from his hands and set it down on his vanity, opting to smooth out the flyaways and ringing your fingers through his soft curls. “And what direction would my free-flowing friend be going today?” you ask aloud, “you look better with your hair out,” you declare firmly, “makes you look like a fluffy CEO.”
He laughs at your silly comparison, and he gently moves your hand away from his hair when you linger a little too close to him. His gaze is solemn as he regards you with a gentle smile, “Keep your distance, I’m tryna get over someone,” he says simply, and your arm falls limp at your sides.
Your heart thuds in a different direction, your mouth parting but no words coming to the surface. When was the last time you asked about Vernon’s needs, wondered if he was doing alright, making sure you two were on the same page—
“You’re spiraling,” he reads you like a playbook, smoothing down your hair to press a kiss to the crown. Suddenly you feel guilty for not having sparks in your belly, shaming your conscience for not even considering his sacrifices in your self-absorption these past few weeks. “Like I said, I wanted to help you. Stop looking like a kicked puppy, it’s okay to be selfish.”
With transparent tears the two of you pack up and head to your next destination. Hands ghosting between each other you make your way to the exit of Vernon’s apartment, him to meet up with his friends while you have to unpack your new apartment. With a hug you tell each other you’ll see them on Monday, and as easy as that you go your separate ways.
Hey Pretty Girl—
I kinda wanted to tell you this in person but I know how much you liked Mamma Mia and all those other movies that have grand gestures in writing so I thought hey, might as well shoot my shot on paper.
Not gonna tell you all the details, because you deserve to hear it in-person. But mayhaps this letter has something to do with how much I like studying with you, watching movies with you, doing absolutely nothing with you and all of that in-between.
There’s a gift card to our spot attached. Meet me at McDonalds @12 tonight, so I know it’s real 😎
Hopefully yours, Jungkook
P.S. if you haven’t noticed already, I sprayed a little cologne and stole Taehyung’s fancy paper from Muji. That’s how serious I am about you.
“Joon, we live in a bonsai garden. We’re like giants in a forest.”
“Can you—can you stop spitting at them? Let them breathe, dammit.”
“Not my fault they’re so tiny! I literally have to zoom 200% just to get a good look at ‘em.”
The two of you are huddled in what used to be Namjoon’s balcony, now a sunroom for his succulents and bonsais. Your heart feels pink and swollen with affection as you regard Namjoon with interest, absorbing every bit of information you can as he teaches you how to care for his plants. After all, you’re co-parenting now.
Having your Wusband co-sign as your roommate for the next year is probably the best decision you have made this year. Everyday is like a breath of fresh air. With Seokjin gone for the year to tour his restaurant franchises, his room is yours for the taking. The two of you are easy going roommates, filling the apartment with color and vigour whether it be in the form of baking sweets or watching Netflix documentaries.
The only drama you ever have is when you two are having a meltdown over the same work-related issue, as if you two somehow share the same brain cell. It’s significantly less stressful, no need for unnecessary anger when you have someone as mediating as Namjoon.
After today’s plant lesson, you two go back to the living room to finish up your work for the evening. Another perk of living together is that you can go home at normal work times and continue where you left off with the comfort of your couch and eating a whole pizza pie with no shame.
Namjoon’s phone pings with a new email from corporate. “We got the new concept for next month’s spread,” he gestures to you with a grandiose wave of his arm, “drumroll please.”
He pulls up the newsletter from corporate with a flick of his thumb. Your company put out every month’s concept out in an Evite, like every month was a themed party. A stressful, month long work party. In seconds, the page loaded and you’re met with next month’s title bathed in electronic glitter.
The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth
The two of you say silent, absorbing the concept like a cookie to milk. It’s a personal spread this month, a real treat for the team to show off their normal non-professional life. A spread that reveals the masters behind the ink and text. Last year’s personal spread was about the staff’s vacation destinations, but this year’s is much more intimate. You can imagine all the ideas that will be thrown around on Monday’s meeting: pinning down shared ideas like Throwback Thursdays, late night munchie runs, drunk stories, and all the crazy college nostalgia that you’ve been trying to avoid as of late.
But now it’s presented to you in a gold chalice, and while you’re sick of the past you think it’s about time to face it. You’re excited to tackle the dark monster you’ve suppressed since Jungkook and Jisoo’s breakup.
“Did I ever tell you I was president of my university’s Mock Trial?”
“No, I always thought you’d be president of the Comparative Literature Club or whatever. But Mock Trial is equally as nerdy.”
“I’ll have you know Mock Trial got me tons of action,” he winked, “made me very convincing.”
“Gross,” you sneer, “so that’s what your spread will be about? How the co-editor of the Arts & Entertainment section managed to bag with his skills from Mock Trial?”
“Nah, I went on a penniless journey with Jin during spring break. Six days around Malta.”
“That does sound so you,” you sigh, fingers slipping between the cracked screen as you mull over the overly happy Evite, “sounds like a cool story.”
“I know that look,” Namjoon quips, snatching his phone under his nose, “don’t overthink your spread just yet, it’s still the weekend. Now to more important things, what do you want from Taco Bell?”
And because you can’t refuse the combined efforts of nachos and Namjoon’s dimples, you relent for the night and tack the unmade idea to the next workday.
Unfortunately the next workday is just as disheartening. Today’s work meeting is the antithesis of icing on the cake. While your college life isn’t anything remarkable, you didn’t think it was a painfully dull time. With every passing moment and every excited co-worker throwing memories back and forth like ping pong balls, the more you felt inferior by competing with their amazing memories.
“Who can even afford Aruba at twenty-one,” you mutter under your breath, stalking back to your cubicle.
Filling up a whole spread is daunting to you, the thought of Victoria popping her head in your cubicle to ask what you’ve got for the day is practically eating you from the inside out. Maybe your college life was in actuality, super boring? You have no crazy drug trips to tell, any vacations that gave you a life-changing perspective, or an epic love story.
“What’cha got there, partner?”
The third musketeer of your editing team’s caramel eyes peer into your cubicle, causing you to jump in your chair. Vernon wheels around, chair and all to push you into your already cramped space. His gold button up gleams in the sunlight, effectively blinding you.
“If by something you mean nothing, then yeah I got nothing,” you frown, spinning around your chair. “What are you writing about?”
A fond smile melts onto your friend’s face, and you can’t help returning a smile that mirrors his own. You two have fallen back into a good place, as far as you know. He’s still easy, simple, sweet Vernon. When you dropped some boxes off in coloring, you heard that Vernon and Yerin have recently started seeing each other.
“Thought of the idea as soon as the Evite came out. It’s more of a photo spread, but I’m gonna write about my study abroad in NYU,” Vernon ticks a pencil on his forehead, “a self-identity piece talking about how I felt like, not-white around my family n’stuff. And then felt not-Asian at the same time, s’complicated but I think I can make it work.”
“Deep,” you pat his shoulder caringly, knowing that Big Hit is a good outlet for these kinds of subjects, “alright City Slicker, since you’re so full of ideas then tell me what to write about.”
Vernon sits up straight, regarding you with narrowed eyes, “Aren’t you gonna write about your little love triangle with Jisoo and Jungkook?” and it seems like he’s already storyboarded the idea in his head, gesturing to the air as if he’s writing down a timeline, “I can see the headline now: How to Steal a Heart,” he’s grinning, nodding fervently as you cross your arms in distaste.
“Vern, are you suggesting that I exploit Jisoo and Jungkook’s personal lives?” while the journalism business didn’t pride itself on sincerity, it did feel wrong to drag in your personal life to that extent.
“Babe, you don’t understand. You have the perfect slice of life story. Everyone’s writing about expensive vacations and that one time they got cross-faded and ended up in Busan,” he squeezes your hand, “but your story, it’s relatable. It’s romantic. It’s angsty. It has closure. No one’s gonna be able to relate to an impulse spending on daddy’s money to Aruba. But first loves? Unrequited romance and all that ish? Everyone can speak to that. And you’re a beautiful writer, they’ll eat up that story like honey.”
“I don’t know, it still doesn’t feel right.”
“Change up the names, twist the story,” he offers easily, knowing you’d put up a fight, “besides, it’s not like you’re planning on talking to Jisoo or Jungkook ever again,” you open your mouth to retort, but Vernon’s phone beeps to the Star Wars theme song and he’s flying out of his chair. “Shoot, gotta go help Joon upstairs. Just think about it, okay? Good luck!” and he’s kicking his chair out with a brown loafer, leaving you with breathing room in your cubicle.
Five seconds later Vernon is jogging back, pointing a finger at you, “And if you do choose to write it, you have to add that Jisoo copped your McDonalds gift card. Like, who does that shit? Couldn’t she have just given it to you and say it was from her and not Jungkook? Seriously fucked up.”
For the next ten or so minutes you mull. Out of all the memorable college events you’ve participated in, the largest one by far is your (now defunct and debatable) friendship with Jisoo, and your (un)requited love for Jungkook. Reluctantly, you must admit Vernon has a sharp idea, busting in like a hero and offering you the most writable piece on a silver platter.
It doesn’t feel morally right just to start writing, because ultimately you can’t feel comfortable until you get the consent of Jungkook. While you don’t want to touch Jisoo with a ten-meter pole, you do want to start talking to Jungkook again now that the waters have calmed.
Your life has moved gracefully up until this point, and you’d like to start being friends with him again. Decision made, you pull out your phone and make an important call.
“Hey Yoongi,” you say nervously. Min Yoongi is Kim Namjoon’s equivalent, Jungkook’s Wusband and former upperclassmen in college.
Said man hums noncommittally on the other line, “Whaddya want, it’s been awhile.”
You stifle a giggle at his apathetic attitude, knowing he’s someone who wastes no time in getting straight to the point. “I just wanna make sure Jungkook’s address is still the same? I know it’s been a couple months, but I need to send him something and I wanna make sure it gets to him ASAP because—”
“Because last time something was sent, your crazy roommate intervened and Jungkook ended up in a two-year half-toxic relationship? Yeah, let’s make sure that doesn’t happen again.”
“Yoongi,” you say slowly, “where are you?”
“Working in the studio,” he tuts, “Jungkook says hi, by the way.”
Typical, cat’s out of the bag. With a roll of our eyes you reply, “Thanks for outing me, Yoongi. Talk to you later.”
“And y/n? Jungkook says he’s waiting.”
With a stupid smile slapped onto your face, you hang up the phone and pull out your stationary kit from under your desk. You pluck out a vermillion red envelope, a color so bold and begging to be seen, you know it can’t possibly get lost in transit. Feeling a little bit like a high schooler as you pull out a glitter jelly pen, you get to writing.
Hey Pretty Boy...
Jungkook and Jisoo are no longer together, evidently.
Their social media runs in different directions, with Jisoo sporting absolute elegance in her work at her family-owned boutique. Her posts are full of shiny outfits and soulless gazes, betraying any pinch of emotion she may have felt over these past few months. Her profile is wiped of any personal posts, all traces of you and Jungkook evaporated from her page. You must admit that she looks good, like a real fashion mogul, but only at the surface level.
Conversely, Jungkook is thriving. It’s evident. Normally he isn’t the type of guy to post so frequently, his habits being often sporadic and limited to sweaty gym stories. But whenever you scroll, it’s pictures of him smiling. Big bunny teeth broken into a genuine, full-bellied laugh. Cute selfies of him and his co-workers. You notice two familiar co-workers in those posts, Irene and Seulgi, two beautiful women Jisoo always felt intimidated by whenever she ranted to you. You conclude positively that Jungkook doesn’t feel tethered and can hang out with all the friends he wants, female and male alike. Jungkook looks free, and you’re happy for him.
It’s another Instagram-worthy moment tonight at McDonalds, where you and Jungkook proposed to meet each other at 12AM.
This time, the letter makes it to its desired destination. You make sure of that because this time you hand-deliver it, slipping under his apartment door knowing he lives alone and no one would be able to access it except him.
You’re parked in an obscure corner, but you can see that Jungkook is currently having a great time with his co-workers for an after work meal. Yoongi is unbothered on his phone, while Jimin and Seulgi are taking turns throwing fries into each other’s mouth. Jungkook is squished between them, scrunching his nose cutely as he tries not to get in the fray of their fry-war.
Your phone pings, and you laugh at what pops up on the screen.
Yoongi: come inside, u loser.
You: can’t ur friend group makes me nervous stop being so dang cute
You: dw i’ll wait, it’s only 11:50
Instead of replying, Yoongi puts his phone down and resumes eating. In turn you pick a playlist, deciding that “summer time high mix✨✨✨” is a theme you need to subscribe to for the rest of the weekend.
Busying yourself by sending some texts to Namjoon and checking some emails, you relax in your seat as you let your brain turn to sludge for the weekend. You’re tired, eyes glazing over as you watch Yoongi elbow Jungkook harshly, forcing him to look out the foggy window.
Jungkook’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas Eve, but instead of Christmas lights it's your car’s lowlights. The graphic designer pays no mind to his friends as they wish him goodbye and goodluck, throwing on his jacket with a wave.
The night air whizzes by, Jungkook’s floppy black strands bouncing with each step as he bounds to your car. He throws your door open, bringing in the cold air as he regards you as easily as an old friend would.
“Hi,” he chirps, placing his tattooed palms by the air vent, “c’mon, let’s order.”
“You know, you could’ve ordered inside and brought it in here.”
“Yeah but then it would take longer to get to you,” the cheeky grin that Jungkook throws at you is unmistakable, “c’mon, get out the car and let’s switch.”
“Huh?”
“You look tired, you didn’t come back from the office again, did you?”
“I did tonight,” you say, “I just really wanted to get the soft copy of the article done and—”
“Out, out!” Jungkook clicks your seatbelt off and he’s coming out of the passenger side, opening your car and pulling you out by the hand, “c’mon, I’ll drive.”
You shake your head, hiding your smile in your hand as you let Jungkook do what he wants. Normally you’d be insulted that anyone suggests they should drive your car but Jungkook would always drive you around, saying he loved long rides. Above all, if you could trust anyone to drive your car, Jungkook is at the top of the list.
Buckling in, you bite the inside of your cheek as Jungkook easily pulls out of the parking spot one-handed. His jacket is pulled up to his elbows, exposing his veins as he expertly whirls the wheel in the direction of the drive-thru. Since college he’s always looked very attractive driving.
Doesn’t mean you have to act like you’re still in college. You tamp those feelings down, knowing that your article probably has you feeling stuck in time.
“—coming along?”
“Wha?”
“I said, how’s the spread coming along?”
“It’s pretty much done, I think. I’ll send you the hard copy when it’s ready,” you tap your fingers against the dashboard, “but are you sure you’re okay with me writing it? I know I’m using a pseudonym and everything for you two but I still feel weird—”
“It’s fine, I think it’s a good thing,” and you still squirm in your seat when he flashes you a genuine smile, “I mean, it kinda is a funny story and I think it’s good for both of us. Like closure, y’know? Moving on and—hi, can I get two Oreo McFlurrys and a large fry? Thanks!” he pulls out his wallet to scan the total on the e-reader. “I mean, didn’t it feel good writing it?”
“Yeah,” you replied honestly, relaxing in your seat, “like, college was fun and all, but when Jisoo kinda ruined all that… after awhile I didn’t think it was ruined after all, y’know? I still made amazing friends and ended up where I wanted to be. I want to show the readers that shit happens, and that’s okay. And if things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.”
The summer playlist hums in the background as Jungkook pulls up to the pick-up window. He thanks the worker and hands you the tray, and you make quick work to put the fries in the first cup holder for optimal sharing. He doesn’t park at McDonalds, but instead smoothly pulls out of the restaurant into the direction of his apartment. It isn’t a particularly long drive, but you figure it would be easier for Jungkook to go home first if you’re already parked at his complex.
“What do you mean by that?” Jungkook parks in the driveway of his apartment, taking his McFlurry from your hands.
“Mean by what?”
“If things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.”
“Well, we’re here now, right?”
Jungkook pops his spoon in, swallowing vanilla and a silly smile through his coral pink lips, “We’re here now,” he repeats.
The night air is cool and your conversation is warm. You promise Jungkook that you’ll send him the final copy of your spread as soon as it’s done, and you two eagerly deviate away from the past and focus on the present.
You can’t help the eagerness that flows between you, as if you’ve never spent time apart like this and it’s only now that you’re reuniting. It must be absence that makes the heart grow fonder, because you swell with affection and you find Jungkook’s presence sweeter than any kind of ice cream.
Are you dating now? Maybe. You and Jungkook are going on dates, everything without the title. McFlurry runs, marathons of HGTV’s Design on a Dime, having lunch at each other’s respective buildings with the Wusbands. Whether these dates are exclusive or not is unknown, but you figure the question will present yourself one way or another.
You’re in a good place right now, potential relationship or not. After all, your priorities are simultaneously positive and in order: family, work, friends, and any potential romantic trysts are at the very bottom. You could kiss the cover of this month’s issue (and trust, you have kissed your own copy multiple times) if it is not for the fact that this specific issue is for Jungkook.
So, romantic trysts and friends have a tendency to flip-flop on your priority list, but only because it’s Jungkook.
Unsurprisingly, there’s no guilt knowing that you’re dating your former best friend's ex-boyfriend.
After a much deserved early work day, Namjoon and the crew arrange a hearty happy-hour filled with good food and enough relaxation to last the weekend. With your combined successes, your team felt like they made the best issue yet. At the heart of it, The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth became a reckoning of each other’s young life. Despite the love and the growth that occurred from your college years up until this point, you’re glad to close that chapter and move forward.
You did not tell Jungkook when the issue would come out, so you think it’ll be a fun surprise for him when he sees it magically show up at his apartment. Bending down you move to slip the issue under his door, one hand pushing it under while one hand braces against the frame to steady your balance.
Just as the shiny cover glides under the door it swings open, and you fall flat on Jungkook’s feet.
Being the little shit he is, he simply giggles at the blunder, looking at you with excited eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he says.
“Creepy as hell, Jeon,” you mutter under your breath, brushing the dirt off your aqua pencil skirt. Looking at him from your spot on the floor and his large height, you grimace. “You look like a middle-aged serial killer looking outside your peephole.”
“Now, we know that’s not true.” he finally offers his hand, easily pulling you up to your feet. You follow him into his kitchen, where he’s cutting up fresh fruit. He throws your issue on the counter, gentle enough so it doesn’t slide off the granite. He gestures to himself with both hands, “me, a dashingly handsome late twenty-something in Nike sweats who can bench-press two of you? Totally not a middle-aged serial killer.”
“It’s in the eyes,” you chastise, “you look crazy.”
“Maybe I’m just crazy excited to see you,” he says with a cheeky grin.
You try your best not to choke on your spit at the cheeseball comment, throwing a blackberry in your mouth. Savoring the burst of tart flavor that fills your mouth, you wait for Jungkook to plate the fruit before meeting him on the couch. He’s holding a prettily arranged plate of berries, bananas, and mango with a huge dollop of whipped cream in the middle. In his other hand is Big Hit’s magazine.
Throwing your blazer on the couch’s arm you don’t hesitate to cuddle up next to him, eagerly waiting for him to read your spread.
The cover gazes back at the two of you like a reflection. The entirety of the staff is posed on the cover, made to look like a class photo. Some of you are holding balloons in your respective school colors, many of you grouping up with whoever happened to go to college together. You and Vernon are wearing matching university sweaters with silly grins on your faces. In the middle of the issue is the editor-in-chief, Victoria Song holding a placard that reads: Class of Youth.
Jungkook spares you a glance from the corner of his eye, your head naturally tucked into his shoulder. With an exaggerated sigh, he fiddles through the glossy pages, “Hmm, which one should I read first?”
“Of course you’ll read mine first,” you pout.
“Ah, Namjoon’s looks really fun. Or Vernon’s? New York looks pretty cool,” he flips to a random page, “wait, Yerin’s spread is a Korean cookbook! I definitely want to make some tuna rice...”
“Jungkook,” you whine, “read mine.”
“I don’t know,” he taps his finger on his lip, “I mean, I pretty much know your spread because I’m already in it. It would be kind of redundant to read it.”
“Kook, you’re being mean,” you glower, rubbing your cheek against his soft sweater. He’s just so damn comfy.
“I’m kidding,” he tugs at your cheek, “where’s the table of contents, first page?”
“I’m on page eighty-three.”
You speed up the process like an impatient child, leaning over to brush the pages to the desired spread. You even dog-earred it, a habit that drives Jungkook crazy as he immediately fiddles to iron out the crease.
“Are you gonna read it to me too, mom?” he teases.
“Okay fine! I’ll be quiet, but don’t take too long.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Eyes fluttering, you let Jungkook take his time to absorb your piece. A roommate by any other (rude) name: the lost letter. A cheesy, gimmicky title that Victoria insisted upon that you had no choice but relent to. The rest of the spread thankfully has a very authentic edge to it, your story laced with photos of you and Jungkook, your internship with Vernon, and most importantly, a scan of the lavender letter that got left in the past.
Jungkook’s not silent through his read-through, either. He laughs at all the right parts, fueling your ego as his smile grows at your favorite lines. While he doesn’t directly engage in conversation, his positive energy is enough for you to make you feel like you’ve done your job right. It’s one thing to write about unknown celebrities and unnamed artists, but for people like Jungkook, the validation is personal.
“It’s beautiful,” Jungkook says when he’s read it thrice through, running his thumb over a picture of you. “Really organic. Really, real.”
“Really?”
“Really,” he chuckles, having run out of adverbs. “It’s funny, too. I liked your little internal monologue. I wish I knew how you felt back then.”
“I wish you did, too.”
You’re quietly munching on a strawberry, looking over a polaroid Jungkook took. It was sometime in the beginning of senior year, where you’ve fallen asleep on his mattress, drool drying on your mouth. Normally you’d be opposed to having such unflattering, grainy pictures amongst your writing, but it encapsulates the youth you’ve tried so hard to chase away.
“How do you feel?” Jungkook says, switching out the magazine for the plate of fruit, placing it on his side.
“Feel great, actually,” you muse, smiling to yourself. By no means are you a hero writing some grand gesture in an entertainment magazine, but you feel like you’ve saved yourself. You’ve savored your youth in four thousand words, cutting out the poison and keeping the moment as sweet as it can be.
“I’m proud of you,” he reaches to ruffle your hair, and you don’t even get mad when it tousles out of your pinned style.
Reveling in the attention, you simply close your eyes and feed yourself a handful of blueberries.
“Love that I make money, but I definitely miss college from time to time,” Jungkook stretches, jostling you out of your comfortable position. “Like I remember Taehyung and I would take turns bringing backpacks to the dining hall so we could stuff fruit in it for later.”
“Yeah, but as much as I loved college I wouldn’t go back,” you nod to yourself, “I’m happy where I am now.”
“What about when we stayed up for midnight breakfast? The dining hall was filled to the brim with food. Remember when I tried to eat a whole stack of pancakes?”
“Jungkook…”
“Or when our classes got cancelled and we went to Lotte World? You ate way too much funnel cake and I had to carry you to the car!”
“Jungkook—”
“And that one time we snuck out to the music hall’s rooftop?” words gush out of Jungkook’s mouth like a waterfall, unable to relent, “that’s when I realized I liked you. I liked you so much, I tried to tell you that night but choked—”
“Jungkook!” and he immediately zips up, frowning. You straighten up, on your knees as you reach over to run your hands through his onyx tresses, moving the styled strands to the back of his pierced ears, “Jungkook,” you repeat softly, “I’ve heard all these stories, I was there for most of them. As much as I love the past… can we talk about something else?” you give him a small, tentative smile to show him you’re not mad, but a little uncomfortable at his reminiscing.
He leans into your touch, pressing your palm against the soft swell of his warm cheek. “Okay,” he agrees, resting one hand on your thigh.
You’re roped in his gaze, and you have to force yourself to breathe when Jungkook moves closer to you. He hooks a leg behind his back, and another across his lap. A cool breeze kisses your inner thighs when your skirt exposes your cotton underwear. You should be embarrassed but instead you’re fixated, unable to understand what he’s trying to accomplish.
“Then I’m gonna talk about the future,” Jungkook traps you between the couch, his thumb running hot circles to where your skirt has hiked up. It exposes a slip of the thigh that Jungkook has seen a million times. He’s seen you walking around your apartment in a large shirt, ridden up to your boyshorts. It’s different now, you feel exposed and tingly, thrumming with excitement. “I like you, obviously anticipated news and old news. I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to go on dates with you, re-watch Avatar, grumble when I force you to come to the gym with me,” he bumps noses with you when you scrunch yours, “I wanna be with you. Heck, I’ve even cleared space in my spare room so you’d have closet space for all your fancy designer suits if you ever need it.”
“You cleared space?” you manage to choke out. Visions of a shared apartment roll through your brain. Cooking meals together, having two toothbrushes side by side, and waking up to his face.
“Of course I did. Do you know how financially attractive you are?” he says lightheartedly, “you’re a sexy working woman and it’s crazy to imagine you’d want to settle for me and my little apartment. But I have to try now because if I don’t, it’ll be too late.”
“That’s not true,” you retort, “you’re not someone I’d settle for. I want you, and no one else.”
He chuckles, running a thumb over your cheek. “Then what are we waiting for? Your key’s hiding under the mat.”
“Jungkook…” on the tip of your tongue lays the words you’re going too fast but it doesn’t make its way to the air.
“But do you really think it’s too fast?” he reads your face clearly, “these feelings never went anywhere. They were locked away, sure. And I loved her,” he can’t even say the name, not when you’re warm and flush against him, “but I loved our friendship more.”
“I… I don’t know what to say,” you breathe, letting the cogs in your brain roll until sparks develop.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he concedes, “I just wanted to let you know. Could’ve done the letter thing all over again and let the past repeat itself. I know Namjoon wouldn’t hide a love letter for two years, but if I left another damn letter he’d definitely make a copy and tease me about it.”
You snort, pressing your forehead to his. You’re practically buried in the couch now, tingly and vibrating with happiness. “And I’m not going to leave you hanging. I do want to say something,” and he looks at you expectantly, licking the leftover berry juice on his lips, nearly making you miss your train of thought, “I like you too,” you say, the other L-word is also applicable, but you feel like that phrase is reserved for another time, “I want to show you off on work vacations, bring you along as my date and show them you’re my muse,” you confess, “I wanna play video games with you ‘till 2AM, and eat ice cream in the comfort of our apartment instead of our cars because we’re too stubborn to admit we don’t wanna go home without each other.”
Jungkook absolutely preens at the affection, sending you a heart melting smile that has your stomach doing backflips.
“Jungkook, I want to fall in love with you again.”
Your squeal of surprise is swallowed by Jungkook’s lips, tasting of mangoes and berries as strong hands cup your backside, easily lifting you onto his lap. You plop under his strong thighs, feeling them flex against yours. The both of you are pouring in this kiss, raining with promises and hopes for a future with each other. His taste is concentrated, and you can feel the devotion practically injected in his embrace.
When he pulls away his lips are cherry-red and shiny, looking up at you through clear coffee eyes. “This isn’t a dream, right?” he looks at you up and down, unable to decipher fact from fiction, “because I distinctly remember two wet dreams that involve you looking like this.”
Looking down, you heat at the disarray you’re in. Hair wild and parted in different wavelengths, tired of the day’s efforts. Your slightly sheer dress-shirt is rumpled, the lace collar opened with two popped buttons revealing your cleavage, and your skirt is stretched so tight that it’s ruched all the way up your thighs. Sprawled across Jungkook’s lap, you’re dangerously close to something long and hard.
Emboldened, you clutch at Jungkook’s collar, pulling him closer.
“Show me what happens in your dream,” you whisper into his ear, barely brushing your clothed core against his crotch, “maybe we can make it come true tonight.”
You can’t see his face, but you feel something dark and sensual overtake him. The grip on your ass tightens, a delicious pain that has you pressing your breasts against him and nipping on his ear, your tongue darting sensually through the cold silver hoops that dart through his skin.
Within seconds, he rips you away from his neck and demands, “Open.”
Dazed, you barely get a centimeter of your mouth open when Jungkook presses something cold and sugary against your lips. Whipped cream. You manage to take a small bite of the tart strawberry that he holds by the viridian stem, rolling the flavor between your mouth as Jungkook paints the leftover whipped cream over your lips. Once he’s satisfied he then creates a white trail that leads to your cleavage.
Better than any dream, his eyes drink you in like the last glass of water in a desert. Your lips are swollen and parted like a baby kitten, covered in the creamy confection. “So pretty,” he exhales, his hot tongue licking from your cleavage to your lips, swallowing the flavor of you and strawberry juice, “such a pretty girl you are, and all mine.”
“Yours,” you submit easily, rolling your hips against his.
At that moment you think you’re meant to fall in love this way. You can’t imagine the shy, fumbly Jungkook and your equally confused self waltzing around a relationship when you barely had your lives together. The two of you still had growing to do. The wait is certainly worth it, because as you feel his arms tighten around you, you’re sure this love will stay strong.
It’s difficult for you to find a rhythm at first, what with Jungkook’s strength and need to be satiated, both of you are sloppy but the friction is nothing less than delicious. Your finger reaches over to swipe at the leftover cream on the plate, and you press your finger to Jungkook’s mouth, and he immediately complies. A dollop of sweet cream leaks out of his lips and your panties dampen further when you feel his tongue lick you clean, imagaining how good it would feel if it was your pussy he was licking.
Your mouth waters at the feeling of his dick lining up against your core, as sticky as the strawberry juice that clings to your bodies.
“C-can I make a confession? I—oh, Jungkook…” your mind is all fuzzed up when he snaps his hips against yours, causing you to shamelessly bounce on his length.
“Yeah?”
“I… I like it when you use all your strength like that,” his hips slow as your words sink in, but you don’t mind as it gives you time to make a long drag along the entirety of his member. “Everytime you pull me up when I trip, or you come back from a workout, I like it when you carry me around like I weigh nothing.”
“Do—do you think about it a lot?” he grunts, and you stifle a moan when he does a slow, hard drag against your wet folds. “Tell the truth.”
“It’s, it’s embarrassing,” you whimper, unable to think straight with the amount of stimuli you’re receiving.
“Please, baby.”
“Yes mm—oh! I do,” you try to get the words out as quickly as you can. He stops moving, and you groan in frustration so you just lay it all out on the table. “I, I love it when you hold me in your strong arms. And, ah, uh w-henever you come back from the gym you just look so sexy fresh from the shower. Sometimes I think about how you’re too damn nice for your own good but I bet you’d be so rough in bed.”
“Really?” and then he’s shoving you onto the couch, air brushing against your bare thighs as your back hits the beige throw pillows. He’s hovering, dark eyes starting from the tip of your toes to your damp lips. “You like it when I manhandle you? Throw you around like a little doll?”
“All that strength, and for what?” you try to keep your snappy remarks in check, but it’s hard when he’s pressing his straining dick against your thigh, weeping and needy.
“You’re not gonna be joking about my strength anytime soon, baby,” emblazoned, he easily throws your leg over his shoulder, pushing your panties to the side to let your wetness leak out and onto his fingers, “are you gonna complain or be a good girl?”
“Yes, I’m ah—” you wince when he inserts a finger, “I’ll be good for you,”
“My good girl,” he revels in the way you melt under his touch, your previous sarcasm quickly dissolving into a puddle. You always had an inkling that Jungkook would be a sneaky fox in bed, all that muscle hidden behind a kind smile and a penchant for tea with milk and honey.
Jungkook slips in another finger, stretching you and preparing you for what’s to come. He’s scissoring you at a sensible pace that has you squirming and wanting more. To prevent you from shimmying off the couch he holds you down with his free hand, and you love the way he practically feeds you to the couch, hands dancing over your neck as he shoves you further into the furniture.
“You look so gorgeous,” he says, causing you to moan and keen at his attention, “you’re such a strong, gorgeous woman. Having you sprawled out like this, ready to do whatever I want to you is so fucking hot.”
“I’m—I’m only weak for you Jungkook,” you say honestly, tears pricking when he dips another finger. The stretch burns deliciously, and your folds eagerly swallow him up until you’re filled to the brim. Your fingers or toys cannot compare to flesh, and you sigh in relief when you see his inked fingers pick up the pace once more.
“You’re damn right,” Jungkook husks, and with a grain of love he murmurs in your ear, “I’m only weak for you, too.”
And that’s when he snaps, thumb rolling against your bud as he slams his other fingers against you, going at a brutal pace. You cry out, not caring whether his neighbors hear as he pulls you back and forth through pleasure and pain.
“T-too much, Kookie,” you mewl, your hand warbling to find his, “I, ah, ‘m gonna cum!”
“That’s the plan,” he only goes faster, stretching your band further and further before your desired high is reached. His hand trails up to force your chin straight, looking up at him, “let go for me, baby. Wanna feel your pussy clench around my fingers.”
In seconds, you gush. It has you in a slight panic, drunk on endorphins as you try to lift your head up but Jungkook’s hand is firmly pressing you on your shoulder as he fingers you efficiently through your high, the wet squelching sounds only increasing with your cries. His lap is drenched in your arousal, along with his chin and lips glistening with your essence.
He finally releases you when you’re practically shaking, his hands sticky and creamy. You moan when he shamelessly licks them within your view, making sure to wrap his tongue around his ink-stained digits.
“I,” your mouth is dry when you feel the dampness that hits your bottom, “I’ve never, I don’t remember ever—”
Your babbles are lost between your throat and Jungkook’s tongue, shoved deep into your mouth. Tasting your arousal has you practically vibrating in your place, as you two rut against each other like hungry bunnies.
“God, you’re amazing,” he says between pecks, kissing away your face of any tears you may have pricked, “Amazing, adorable, absolutely beautifulIadoreyousoso—”
“Pleasepleaseplease,” you press your hips up, wiggling for more attention, “please fuck me, Jungkook.”
You can’t help the witchy, satisfied smile when Jungkook’s eyes darken to a thick coal, “Anything for you,” he murmurs, swinging your legs between his arms as he lifts you like a feather.
On his lap again, you soon accept that the way you two mesh like puzzle pieces is one of your favorite positions as it gives you both equal space to ravish each other.
Just when your hand trails to the waistband of his boxer briefs and you’re rolling your thumb over its collected moisture, the moment is shattered when the doorbell rings. You jump in his arms, unprepared for your moment to be interrupted.
He groans into the crown of your hair, and you soften in his relaxed hold, “I ordered us pizza,” he nearly forgot.
Perking your head up to look at him you regard him innocently, as if you didn’t release a waterfall on his sweats two seconds ago. “You got us pizza?”
“I knew you’d be coming over tonight,” he’s pouting into your neck, regretting ever having called the pizza guy if he knew this would happen, “Victoria posted the publish date on Twitter. I just didn’t think,” he gestures vaguely to the mess on his pants, “this would happen.”
“Damn, and here I thought I was being sneaky,” you chuckle, flicking his ear playfully.
He gives you an uncharacteristically subby whine, shamelessly upset he has to let you go so fast after he’s given you your first of many highs. Before he weakens further under your beauty, he unceremoniously shoves you off. “Sorry, pretty girl,” you melt at the easy way his pet name rolls off his lips, “can you wait in my room for a bit so I can pay the delivery guy? I don’t want them to see you like this.”
“But I want to eat pizza,” you declare stubbornly, standing up to button your blouse and pull down your skirt.
Before you could fasten one button or pull down one centimeter, his hand darts out to snatch your wrist away from your body. It doesn’t hurt much, but it causes your body to heat in more places than one. He’s sexy like this, demanding your attention. “No,” he rumbles definitively, “my room. Now.”
“Why?” you throw your hands in the air, yelping when he slaps your ass. He makes sure to make it sting, cupping you fully.
“Because,” he says firmly, “you don’t get to eat until I eat,” you whimper when his hand reaches to cup your sex, panties wet and cold without his warmth as he pushes you in the direction of his bedroom.
Oh, you can’t wait for both of you to eat tonight.
some time later.
“Ohmygod the view is beautiful!” Krystal, who works in advertisement, squeals. “No filter needed!”
“Alright alright, make room Princess,” Namjoon teases. With a bump to Krystal’s tiny hips Namjoon shoves you two across the pavilion, putting his arm around you once he finds the perfect angle, “Umji, can you get a pic of me and my Work Wife? I want this on the Big Hit Instagram!”
You hold your straw sunhat down from the salty wind, smiling beautifully as Umji takes multiple pictures of you and Namjoon from her Nikon. Another successful year under your notch, ending with a successful work retreat.
“Namjoon, can I take a picture with my actual wife now?”
“We’re not married, Jungkook,” you chastise, patting the chest of Namjoon’s floral printed Hawaiian shirt so he can switch. Instantly, Jungkook slides up next to you like a picture perfect stock model piece, and you wrap your arms around his trim waist, “we’re not even engaged.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he pouts, looking over the pavilion and adjusting the both of you so there’s a good amount of you and the resort in the background. The sun may be scathingly hot, but it looks beautiful perched over the crystal clear waters. “Namjoon, you got it easy,” Jungkook says when he hands him your phone, “every angle is our good angle, so you can’t mess it up.”
Being the honest man he is, Namjoon knows better and doesn’t say anything to that. Instead he shoots down whatever pineapple-flavored concoction is offered to him on a silver platter, and starts shooting.
“Is this swimsuit new?” Jungkook murmurs into your ear between shots, flicking your little red number by the strap connecting the back, “because I didn’t see this in the luggage.”
You smile big, pearly whites as Namjoon demands to pop out your butt and work it, pressing your body closer to Jungkook’s. “Tiny enough so I could hide it in my purse,” you reply proudly, voice low for only each other’s ears, “why, surprised?”
“Definitely not prepared,” his fingers dig deliciously in your bare flesh, “would Victoria fire you if she catches us doing it in the cabana?”
Amused that your boyfriend now shares your combined awe and fear of your boss, you twist his nipple lightly. He yelps, and from Namjoon’s guaff he’s definitely got that on camera. “We didn’t come to Boracay to fuck in the cabana.”
“Then the hotel room?”
Namjoon hands you back your phone when he considers his job done, letting you and Jungkook have some alone time. You wave your phone in his face, trying to get him to focus on the task at hand. You wanted to post some cute pictures of you and your boyfriend, one to impress the family back home and the Big Hit interns back in Seoul who are absolutely pining for your position.
“Jungkook, they have the water ski thing where you can flip in the water mid air! Doesn’t that sound fun? Or we can go scuba diving, have Filipino food, or get massages. LIterally, we’re on Big Hit’s dime, and the first thing you want to do is go back to the room?”
“Yes,” he pouts petulantly, leaning into the hollow of your ear and whispering, “got a chub on.”
Discreetly so, your hands brush against his navy trunks and you note yes, he’s half hard. “No!” you shake your head definitively, pushing him out of your arms. You’re not letting sex get in the way of your hard-earned vacation, you’re on company dime and you intend to milk every peso of it. “Namjoon, take him away!”
You blow him a kiss and follow another group who’s decided to go eat, watching your boyfriend get dragged away by Namjoon’s long arms. Krystal, who’s been mildly watching the whole ordeal in-between taking selfies, looks at you in awe, “You got it good, bosslady,” she says, and you happily link arms with her in the direction of the restaurants.
You and Jungkook definitely have it good. You don’t see him until dinnertime, looking utterly relaxed as he sips on a mango-muddled concoction. He must’ve gotten a couples massage with Namjoon, cute. Splitting up was definitely a good idea, by the time your meal arrives the two of you are practically leaning against each other, telling each other what events you need to do tomorrow and events you think will be fun to do together.
“Joon,” Jungkook is throwing an arm over your Wusband’s shoulder, mildly tipsy. The image is adorable, as Jungkook long ago previously confessed that he felt a little jealous of Namjoon’s work relationship with you before you were dating. Now, it feels like they’re best friends and you’re third-wheeling. “What do you think about having halo-halo tomorrow? It’s like bingsu but with a bunch of other good stuffs. There’s red bean, mango, ube, ice cream…”
Just as Jungkook begins his tirade of dessert ingredients, you pull up your phone to check on your social media. You smile back at your profile, seeing your latest Instagram post at the very top of the feed. Not to flex, but the two of you look pretty smokin’ since you’ve been keeping up with Jungkook’s insistence to join him at the gym. Jungkook and you are leaning against the pristine veranda, overlooking the clear blue water and a cloudless sky. The smiles you two sport are genuine and utterly in love.
You scroll down the comments, most of them filled with sweet messages but one of them has you doing a double take.
@sooyaaa__: 😒😒😒 knew something was goin on behind my back… good riddance
The smell of Jungkook’s detergent overtakes your nostrils, and you turn to him. He’s stopped talking, now immersed in whatever’s going on in your phone.
“The nerve of her,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, disgusted at her latest comment. “As if anyone would believe her.”
“Yeah,” you echo, “I feel bad for her, though. She’s probably lonely.”
“Her loss, she put this upon herself. Not us.”
You pout, “I know, but she was my friend at one point.”
He frowns, putting an arm behind your backrest. It would be easy for him to say yeah, and she was my girlfriend and one-up you, leaving it at that. But now he knows better, and that friendship is a much better value than an ill-fated relationship. “Sorry baby,” it’s not his fault, but he sees your disappointment in putting out hope for an old friend. He gives you a little smooch on your temple, “do you miss her?”
“The old her, yeah,” you sigh, clicking on her profile, “but now? I can do without her negativity.”
“Okay,” he takes your phone from your hand, “have you ever blocked a person before?”
“No.”
“Well, today’s the day,” he says it so coolly, you barely have time to think when he clicks the ‘block’ button on Jisoo’s profile, then clicking off his phone to put in his pocket. “No more phone for today,” he proceeds to take your plate that was recently served, taking the time to cut your large vegetables into smaller portions. “Like you said, we shouldn’t waste your vacation time.”
Your heart swells with butterflies for Jeon Jungkook, who’s meticulously cutting your food and telling you to relax and stop dwelling on the past. He’s right, if Jisoo’s not going to stick around for the future and continue to cause negativity in your life, why not keep the positives in the past while it lasted?
“You know I love you, right?”
He ceases cutting, and looks at you to pop a sweet potato in his mouth. “Love me enough to do it in the cabana?”
He’s still on that? “Jungkook,” you warn, pretending to get up, “forget I said anything. I’m gonna go karaoke with Umji.”
“Kiddingggg,” he whines, pulling you back down with an outstretched hand, “you know I love you too.”
“You’re terrible.”
“Only this way because I’d know you’d totally be into cabana sex if we were vacationing by ourselves.”
“Yes, but you’re still terrible,” you giggle when Jungkook steals a kiss, just as easy as he’s stolen your heart.
3K notes
·
View notes
this is random but today was my birthday and it wasn't as good as I hoped it would be. most of my family members seemed to forget all about it and almost no one sent me a text or anything like that, which really sucked and sort of made me feel sad and unwanted?? so that wasn't great :(
this might sound silly and really pathetic but I was sort of hoping that you could write me a little thing about how [ insert pedro boy of your choice because I just need some comfort right now and im not picky ] definitely would NOT forget about my birthday and try to make me feel better about this on my special day?? only if you want to though.
- ✨
Rose Petals (Javier Peña x f!Reader)
Summary: Javier never forgets a date. You’re going to have a wonderful birthday.
W/C: 1.3k
Warnings: food, alcohol, brief mention of death, probably language, innuendo, otherwise totally fluff
A/N: BABE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I’m so sorry it wasn’t good and I hope this can make up for it at least a little.
Javier Peña is a man who never forgets a date. It’s like he has a tiny little calendar ingrained in his brain. The man is endlessly busy, swamped with files and papers and so much knowledge it would take up the whole embassy to store it on paper, but dates come easily to him.
He remembers the day his mother died. That was in late August. He remembers the date of your first kiss, the first time he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close and moved your lips to his. That was about a year ago this time now. And Javier always especially remembers your birthday.
His work schedule is hard. Javier’s always at work, it feels like, but he adores you when he’s at home. He’s a good cook; he’ll make the two of you dinner and cuddle on the couch after, do whatever you’d like until he eventually asks that the two of you go to bed. Even though he’s working his ass off, some nights absolutely drowning in paperwork he has no choice but to bring home, he always puts you first.
You’d spoiled him on his birthday. That’s part of what he loves about you: how above and beyond you go for him. To you, it was nothing extravagant; you gave him a massage, cooked dinner and bought a nice bottle of whiskey to go with it. You got him new shirts, a nice watch, and a new cologne.
To Javier, it was the entire world. Most of his birthdays were spent alone or with a prostitute to hide his anxiety over getting older. Very few things you’ve ever seen could compare to the look on the stoic man’s face when you walked out from the kitchen holding an iced, sprinkled, layered, candle-topped cake singing happy birthday. He almost cried, he had to admit. Javier never expected to have love like this, like Steve and Connie do, like his parents did. He insisted you sit on his lap to eat, no matter how much you tried to protest.
Javier wants to spoil you equally. The problem is that he doesn’t exactly know… well, how. He’s gotten you a few presents, things you’ve mentioned in passing or that he thought you’d like. He has them stored in his closet beneath his work clothes. But you do so much for him, Javier feels it’s only fair he returns the favor.
Your birthday falls on a weekday this year, sadly enough. Javier wants nothing more than to pamper you in bed all day, but that’s not possible for either of you.
What you wake to on your birthday is an empty bed. Disappointing. Rolling over and reaching for Javier, you find nothing. It makes you sigh softly, out of sadness, but a smell of cooking fills the aid and you hope it’s something good.
It is. Javier has the oven running, with just two minutes left. There’s a full pot of coffee on the counter, and scrambled eggs on the stovetop. There’s a note, written in Javier’s scribbled handwriting.
Happy birthday, mi amor. I promise I’ll take good care of you tonight. Hope you like the food. Call me when you get the chance.
-J
Clutching the note to your chest, you grin and laugh a little. Javier’s a romantic at heart, even if it took a while for him to show that to you. You pull the cinnamon rolls from the oven and turn it off, taking a deep whiff of the pastries and relaxing. Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you wait for the food to cool.
-
Both you and Javier end up having long days. Your work is busy, leaving you hardly any time to breathe, much less to call him. His gesture fills your heart all day, and you find yourself smiling a little when you have the time to take a moment.
None of your coworkers remember your birthday. It stings a little at first, but the amount you care fades as the day goes on. With the hustle and bustle of your workplace, you hardly have the time to remember that it’s your own birthday. Even during lunch, you’re working tirelessly, and don’t have the chance to call Javier.
Javi wanted to call you first, to wish you a happy birthday vocally, but he gets sent out on a street mission to find someone in the morning. When he and Steve return to the embassy, there’s paperwork to be filed, reports to be typed, everything.
It doesn’t matter that he has a desk covered in tasks. When the clock strikes 4, an hour before you’ll be home, Javier shuts his file. “Cover for me?” he asks Steve.
“Depends,” the man drawls, twisting a cigarette between his fingers. “Why?”
“It’s my girl’s birthday,” Javier shakes his head at Steve’s attitude and pulls his leather jacket on. “I’ll stay as long as I need to tomorrow, but I’m going home now. See you tomorrow, Murph.”
“Good luck, Peña. Don’t break the bed,” he calls after him as the dark-haired man walks off. Javier doesn’t bother to reply.
When he enters your apartment, Javier gets to work instantly. Lighting candles, sprinkling rose petals, everything. You always mention how romantic that looks when you make him watch those cheesy rom-coms with you, and Javier has to admit it does look lovely when he’s finished. The last thing to do is open a bottle of wine, pour two glasses, and wait. It won’t take long- the decor took a while.
When your key turns in the doorknob, Javier jumps up from the couch and rushes to the door, holding a rose. “Happy birthday,” he finally gets to tell you, capturing your lips in a kiss before you can say thanks.
When he breaks away, you smile and go to thank him, but he beats you to the punch, taking your coat and bag. “How was work today?”
“It was… oh, Javi,” you laugh, admiring the beauty of the apartment. “Oh my god, you made it look so beautiful.”
“Not as beautiful as you,” he flirts, which makes you roll your eyes. “You always talk about how much you love this in the movies,” he shrugs, taking your hand and leading you to the table. He pulls out a chair for you. “Thought we should try.”
“You’re too good to me,” you chuckle and take the wine sitting in front of you, taking a sip and sighing.
“You’re too good for me,” Javi refutes and kisses your head. He sits down across from you, taking your hands and kissing your knuckles. “Happy birthday, amor. I have the whole night planned for us. For you, really.”
“Javi,” you laugh, smiling at the romantic gestures around you. He’s never this openly loving, and you really don’t mind. “This doesn’t feel… you.”
“Well, it’s you, and I’m more than willing to compromise,” he says with a gentle smile. There’s a plate of appetizers on the table, and he snatches one. When he talks again, through a mouthful of food, you recognize your usual Javi. “I promise you’ll love it.”
“I already do,” you assure him with a wide grin. “Thank you, baby. I love you so much.”
“Anything for you,” he assures you and drinks his wine. “I love you too. Now, I’m going to get dinner cooking. You just sit and relax.”
“Will do,” you chuckle and slump down in your chair.
Javier walks past and kisses your head one more time. “Happy birthday, baby.”
150 notes
·
View notes
More -pt.2
Bakugou x reader
Warnings: Angst, cursing, mentions/use of alcohol, almost harasment?, mention/use of drugs??, my heart just hurt ok, mentions of fwb
Word count:3,220
A/N: thank you for the responses on the first part, this is pretty soon after but I still felt really inspired for it. But ask and you shall receive. Here is part two for More, I hope yall like it (:
Read part one here: pt.1
You regretted saying goodbye.
From the moment you had walked away from him and left in the rain you were filled with regret. The thought of if he watched you leave haunting your thoughts. You doubted it. It had been just over 2 months since you ended things between the two of you, but the ache in your heart made it feel like so much longer. Maybe I should have just kept things the same, at least then I’d still have him. Thoughts like this constantly circling your mind as you laid in bed, engulfed in darkness, the only comfort you felt was from the warmth of your blanket.
You cursed yourself for feeling like this, for being this dumb. This whole situation was just so fucking clique. The fuck buddy falling in love for the other when everything had started on a strict no feelings, no strings attached agreement. Thinking that you were strong enough not to fall in love with the way that his fingers left goosebumps across your skin. That you could listen to his endless sweet nothing that he would whisper into your ear and not fall in love with the man behind each and every word. Thinking that every time you were thinking of him that maybe he was thinking of you too. Eventually you were ripped out of this hope with every day that had passed with out a response from him.
With every morning that you woke up to no new notifications from the only person you wanted to hear from, you felt your chest get heavier. You figured that the best way for you to get over him was to try talking to someone new, but you couldn’t help but want to leave every flirt on read. They weren’t him. But you needed some way to get him off your mind. So you drowned yourself in men. Not spending a moment alone, because you knew that as soon as you did he’d creep back in to your thoughts.
At first your friends brushed it off as a typical rebound, but after a while they started getting concerned. You constantly ditch them and cancel plans saying that your busy, just to find you in a bar or with some guy. They couldn’t keep track of you any more, you were all over the place. Your best friend Mina couldn’t stand to see you like this anymore. It broke her heart every night that she found you at some bar and managed to bring you home, hearing the way that you spilled your emotions to her in your drunken state. She knew she needed to do something.
You woke up in your bed, a throbbing pain in your head. On your nightstand there was a cup of water, a pain killer, and a note. You swallow the pill while picking up the note, “Hey I left you some food in your fridge, don't forget to eat. The gang all wants to go to the movies the weekend, and I hope you’ll join us. I love you hun-Mina” You small smile makes it’s way to your lips as you read the note. She was probably the reason you were at home. Pulling the sheets up the body, you let your head hit the pillow again, not wanting to deal with the real world yet. You closed your eyes, wanting nothing more than to fall back to sleep.
But begrudgingly you got up from your vibe, pulling the sheets away from you and walk over to the mirror. Geez I look like a mess. Was the only thought that came to your head as you looked at yourself. You walk over to your closet to pick out some clothes before making your way to the shower. You turn it on and let it heat up before stepping in. The feeling of the hot water hitting your back relaxes you but you can’t help but start to think.
Had all of this really been a smart idea. Should you have even started all of this with the angry blond? You had to have known that he couldn’t feel the same. After all those years in high school and he only came out with one best friend and only a handful that he tolerated. So what made you think you were different. What made you think that you could be the one to bring down his giant walls and make him bring someone into his life. That he would ever be able to see you more than just another extra in the way of his personal success. You shake your head in attempt to get those thoughts out of your head but you had ignored them for to long.
But a part of you wished that you could have been the one to get him to open up. Be able to see the softer side that you know he has, the one that he keeps hidden away from the rest of the world so well. To be able to have him come home from a particularly rough day at work and the first thing he does is hold you in his arms, kissing your forehead as he vents to you about everything that is on his mind. To be able to have him pull you close to him in the dead of the night like you had caught him the few times you woke up in the middle of the night. The way he squeezed onto you while you were dead asleep making uou think that maybe, just maybe he had felt the same for you. But as the water trails down your back and into the drain, and your standing alone in your bathroom shower, you are abruptly reminded of how alone you really are. That it was only you that felt that way and nothing more.
“Fuck this, I can’t keep feeling like this” You say to yourself as you finish washing. You put on your clothes and walk over to your vanity to start getting ready. “Lets go get rid of these pesky emotions what do you say.” You say to your reflection as you grab a brush and get ready for the night.
~time skip~
When Bakugou got off of work he wasn’t expecting the first thing he sees to be text from his old friend Mina. But what he was expecting even less then that was the contents of the texts. He understood why Mina was concerned but why did she think he would be the best person to call in this situation. None the less here he was, standing in some random club on a side of town he had never been too. If the drive wasn’t enough to tick him off, then the booming sound coming from the pack venue was. You just have to find her then you can go the fuck home, was the only thought that was pushing him through this crowd. Had it been anyone else, he would have probably just said fuck it and went home, but he felt he owed you this at least.
But his search was starting to prove useless as he had been in the club for almost 2 hours without even so much of a glimpse of you. He started heading to the door so that he could call Mina back and let her know he couldn’t find you until he spotted you at the bar. You were sitting there with some mans arm wrapped around your shoulder. Bakugou didn’t recognize him as any of your friends so he made his way over. When he had made it over to the duo he could tell for sure that it for sure wasn’t someone you knew. His eye brow raised at the view of the mans lips attaching to your neck, the two of your eyes meeting. He could see it in your eyes that something was off.
“Who’s this?” Bakugou lets out, annoyed that he even has to be asking this question. The said person in question paid no attention and continued his grouping.
“Thiis -hick- is my new boyfriend for toniight. So if you don't miiind, im -hick- buuussssyyyy” the words slurring for your mouth, barely able to put together a coherent sentence. Bakugou rolled his eyes at your state. He went to turn around and leave when his eyes caught sight of your drink, a small empty capsule beside it, and suspicious trail of bubbles leading from the bottom to the top of your drink and it clicked in his head.
“I think it’s time to get you home.” he reaches over to grab your hand but is quickly shut down by the man beside you. His arms caging around your frame acting as a barrier between the two of you. “Move out of my way extra.”
“Can’t you see that we’re kinda busy here pal. Why don’t you go fuck off and find something else to get your dick wet in alright, this ones mine for the night.” The man grabbing a hold of your face to pull you into a kiss, as you’re unable to fully process everything that he is saying. A crackling sound can be heard from behind you as the man that was attacking your mouth was ripped off of you. You gasp for a breath of air feeling previously suffocated by the stranger you had met a half hour ago.
“I’m going to be nice since she’s here and give you one warning. You are going to back the fuck up and leave her the hell alone before I blast you head off do you understand? Or you would you like to stay will I get someone to test out this drink to see what the fuck you put into it? Its your choice you fucking lowlife, so what is it going to be?” The man that was previously latched on to you was quickly fleeing to the door, trying to create as much distance as he could between you and the raging blond as he could. “That's what I thought, fucking coward” His attention now turning over to you as he notices you starting to lose your balance just sitting in the stool. You start leaning heavily and Bakugou is quick to catch you before you hit the floor. “shit, shit. Fuck. Okay we need to get you out of here” Is all that is able to leave his mouth as he picks you up bridal style and heading to the door.
“Nooooo I was just having -hick- fuuuun” you head dropping back as you watch all the people passing you by as he walks out the door. Bakugou pays no attention to your ramblings as he makes his way further out the club, the bouncer giving him a suspicious look before realizing the situation and clear the exit to allow for the two of you to leave quicker. He makes it to his car and manages to unlock it while still holding it and puts you into the passenger seat. As he goes to reach across your body to grab the seat belt. “Ooo a hug?” You reach up to try to wrap your arms around him but he moves away from your reach. He shuts your door before walking over to his side of the car and stepping in. A pout across your face as you speak up again, “Why no hug?” He looks over to meet your stare.
“Because I know that if you weren’t in the state you’re in right now you wouldn’t want to hug me, and un like that asshole I know some fucking manners.” His grip on the wheel tightening as he thinks back to the scumbag who had the fucking audacity to lay his hands on you and take advantage of you in this mess of a state. The drive back to his apartment was quite from then on, seeing as you passed out half way through his sentence. When the two of you had arrived he carried you up to his apartment. He walked you into your room before trying to decide on whether to change you out of your outrageous outfit. He didn’t want you to feel like he was taking advantage of you, but he couldn’t let you sleep in those uncomfortable clothes. After struggling with the tightness of the dress and the lack of help for your semi comatose bod, he finally managed to get you out of your dress and into one of his shirt, quickly swallowing you in its size. He very well could have put you in some of your own clothes that you had managed to leave here but he couldn’t stop himself from needing to see you wrapped up in his shirt. He layed you in his bed and pulled the blankets over your body before walking out of the room, making sure to look back a final time at you before exiting the room completely.
~the next morning~
You woke up with a pounding in your head, this time different from before. You look down at the blanket that covered your body before taking in your surroundings. There was no way. How were you back in his room. You quickly get out of bed, quickly regretting it by the feeling that takes over when you get to your feet. You felt like you were going to throw up, and not just because of the feeling in your head, but because of the all to familiar smell of caramel. Your eyes quickly meet the door what you hear a knock as you walk over to open it not wanting to meet the eyes of the person on the other side.
“You look like shit” You quickly go to slam the door shut, but your stopped by a hand in the frame. The door pushing open as you fail to keep it shut, Bakugou winning and taking a step inside of his room, you wanted nothing more than to lock yourself away forever. “What the fuck are you doing with yourself? It’s bad enough you don't talk to anyone but I have to come home to a call from Mina to come and rescue you? What the hell are you doing? You can’t keep kissing strangers, pretending that it’ll make all of your problems go away.” He looked down, taking you in. The way you stood infront of him making him want to do nothing more than to hug you but he couldn’t help himself from putting up his wall, trying to block you out
“I don't owe you an explanation Bakugou. Thank you for whatever you did but I’m going to be leaving now.” You go to try to slip past him to get to the front door, but soon are stopped by his grip on your wrist.
“Your friends are starting to get concerned. They’re worrying about you and honestly I’m starting to see why.” You couldn’t help but scoff at his words. He was concerned about you?? You could really tell by the way that he checked up on you, Your eyes just rolling at the thought. You didn’t have the energy to play these games with him. Pulling your arm out of his wrist you take a step toward him, anger starting to take over as you speak up.
“You’re concerned Bakugou? That’s just fucking rich. I could really feel your worry over the countless calls and messages you left, oh wait, my bad that wasn’t you, was it? That’s right because you never fucking called or texted or anything. But now all of a sudden you think you’re going to swoop in here and save the day, pull me out of the despair that apparently is my life and make everything better?”
“Y/N-” He goes to speak up but you cut him off.
“You know what I think I’m finally starting to understand you. Your the kind of person who loves toying with others emotions. You give them messages and make them feel like you care with sweet words, but leave in the middle of the night making them feel all alone. You make them grow used to your constant attention and texts and then when they pour their heart to you, you fall off the face of the earth. You choose to have friends with benefits because you are so fucking afraid of commitment it hurts. Why is it so impossible for you to let someone care about you?!” Your finger are prodding his chest roughly as your voice starts breaking at the raw emotion pouring out of you.
“Would you just listen to me for a second?” His hand grabbing your wrist again to stop your tiny attacks on his chest.
“What can you say that would possibly make any of this better Bakugou?”
“You’re right okay.” You were half tempted to pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. The Bakugou Katsuki admitting you were right? You never thought you’d live to see the day. But you were taken out of your thoughts as he continued. “You’re right. I am scared of commitment. But it’s not because I’m afraid of someone leaving me or people caring about me. It’s because I’m scared I’m never going to live up to your expectations. That I’m never fucking going to be good enough for someone like you. So yeah I thought that being friends with benefits would just be easier. But -fuck- being around you, it was so fucking hard not to fall in love with you. With all the little shit that you do, constantly making me think about you. I’ll admit that I was a coward. Letting you leave that day, when I wanted nothing more than to run after you and make you come back. To tell you exactly how I felt about you. But I let you go, so I didn’t feel like I deserved a second chance. So I’m sorry that I never texted you okay? But you deserved more than that.”
You had never felt so much emotion pour out of him before, the wall he had built crumbling infront of you. And that’s when his words hit you.
“You love me?” Your voice soft as you look up, looking into his eyes, hoping that what you heard hadn’t been a mistake. He stepped forward, his hand coming up to meet the side of your face. You melt into his touch, almost forgetting how warm it was. He held your face in his hands as a look you had never seen crossed his face.
“Did it take you that long to realize?” Your eyes start to tear up as you find yourself looking at his lips, not believing what you had heard. You close you eyes, as he leans down, his lips meeting yours in a soft but passionate kiss. Emotion poured out of both of you as your lips moved in perfect sync.
You knew that you both had a lot you need to talk through, but for the first time in months the ache in your heart was gone. You were once again wrapped up in his arms and for the moment that's all that mattered. And there wasn’t anything you craved more.
821 notes
·
View notes
Kings
Summary: Domino is forced to attend a party for FOWL’s top agents, and is having a hard time enjoying himself when the presence of someone in particular makes him feel very uncomfortable. Good thing Steelbeak’s there to provide both a distraction and some surprisingly good advice.
Notes: This was a little something written to wish @thefriendlyfour a happy birthday! Thanks for everything you do!
(P.S.- All OC’s in this story belong to her, not me)
Dominic was not having a good time…
It wasn’t often that FOWL High Command granted permission and spared funds on things deemed “unnecessary” for work. Everything from bank heists to political blackmail schemes and even the smallest pieces stolen from museums- every cent earned was carefully accounted for, recorded, and allocated properly. FOWL was a big organization that had many facilities to maintain- and even more workers to pay (maintenance and repair men, scientists, eggmen, all the way up to the special agents) to keep everything running smoothly.
Still, even with everything that had to be paid for, High Command understood the basic concept of things like “morale” and had to relent and reward their workers- particularly their top agents- every once in a blue moon (though it was mostly to make sure that they would feel content with their jobs and not try to leave and use their skills and training to make it as solo villains). Parties seemed to be the easiest and most effective way of keeping employee morale up: It only took one day of actual work, and food and beverages were easy to acquire and serve. After that, all that was required were a decently sized venue and some half-way decent music.
That was how the chief officer of FOWL, Steelbeak, and his partner, Dominic “Domino”, found themselves spending the evening in a heavily fortified and closely monitored outpost several miles away from Saint Canard at a party for FOWL’s most accomplished agents.
The large central room of the relatively unused outpost had been cleaned up and hastily decorated with a few different colored lights and decorations that were likely leftovers from the last party that had been thrown there. There were tables of catered food and drinks ranging from standard soda to a large punch bowl and even a fully-stocked bar all along one wall, leaving the majority of the floor open for agents to mingle and converse freely. The wall opposite the food and drinks housed a small stage that was being used for the evening’s entertainment: A small but highly talented orchestra with a full string section and a full-sized grand piano that had been brought in just for the occasion.
The party had been in full-swing for more than an hour already, but Dominic wanted nothing more than to leave and it was for one reason and one reason alone…
It wasn’t because he hated parties. Granted, he was by no means a party-loving social-butterfly, but he could still have fun and enjoy himself so long as the venue wasn’t overly crowded and his fellow partygoers weren’t so intoxicated that they forgot to respect his boundaries. In fact, compared to the parties he’d been dragged to at the northern base (which tended to involve excessive amounts of alcohol, brightly colored flashing lights, deafeningly loud pop music, and half of his team drinking to the point of passing out while he stayed sober to keep them from getting into too much trouble), this was one of the nicer soirees he’d been to in a while.
It wasn’t because he disliked his fellow agents. While there were still many new people that he was getting acquainted with and had yet to familiarize himself with each and every person present, the others in attendance all seemed like intelligent, capable, reasonable individuals who were pleasant to converse with in small doses. They also had enough common sense to not trust one another, so no one was trying to get hammered- meaning no loudmouthed or clingy drunkards to deal with, which always made for a much more pleasant evening.
It wasn’t because of his partner- if anything, the other man’s presence was one of the only things making this whole evening more bearable. As chief officer of FOWL, Steelbeak’s presence was required at any gathering of its most elite agents, which meant that Dominic, as partner of the current chief officer, was also required to attend. To the loon’s surprise, Steelbeak seemed even less excited to attend the event than his partner, stating that he found High Command’s mandatory gatherings boring and repetitive (if they were all like THIS, though, Dominic could certainly understand why the rooster felt that way after eight years of forced attendance). The lighter fowl’s hushed banter and sarcastic remarks about the party and some of the other agents never failed to bring a small smile to his more serious partner’s face and even elicited a few quiet laughs that were drowned out by the music.
No, everything else at the party was somewhat boring, but otherwise tolerable…except for one thing…one frustratingly perfect, ever present thing that he tried VERY hard to stay as far away from as possible…as long as he stayed by the wall and what he was trying to avoid stayed in the center of the room conversing with another agent about who knows what, then he’d be fi-
“Geez, short fuse, ya look like you’re waitin’ for a bomb t’ go off.” The familiar voice of his partner offered the loon a much needed distraction from his thoughts.
Dominic glanced away from the crowd of agents in front of him and looked instead to his approaching partner who’d broken away long enough to join him in his sequestered corner against the wall by the stage. “If that were the case, we might have a valid reason to get out of here.”
Steelbeak leaned against the wall beside the loon, looking across the room at the bar as if he were seriously considering it as a solution to their current predicament. “Well, there IS a full bar over there…find me a microwave an’ a can of that spray-on oil from the kitchen and I could whip somethin’ up.” It was hard to tell how much of that was actually a joke.
A smile tugged up the corners of the darker bird’s beak even as he shook his head. “Tempting as that is, we would probably just receive orders to turn the event into some sort of ‘garden party’ in the woods..and I know how much you love nature.”
A visible shudder ran down the taller fowl’s body at the thought of spending that much time out in the forest. “No-ho thank you, all that fresh air makes me gag.” He even made a retching sound to prove his point, earning a quiet laugh from the other man that made him smile and laugh along for a moment. “So, if we’re not all ‘bout t’ go out in a big ball of fire, then why’re ya over here lookin’ like you’re ‘bout t’ dig someone’s grave?” He asked after they’d both had a moment to regain their composure. “I’d ask if someone touched ya or somethin’, but I haven’t seen anyone go flyin’ through a wall or stuffed inside a cello case, so it can’t be that bad.”
Darn it, Steelbeak had gotten too good at reading the darker bird after three months of dating him. At times like these, Dominic wasn’t sure if he was more annoyed or grateful for that fact…
“No, nothing that extreme yet.” Red eyes glanced over the crowd and once more found their target. “I’m just…trying to avoid someone..”
Dark grey eyes followed the other’s gaze and landed on a well-dressed man who stood out among the crowd. “Wait…Osprey? Ya know ‘im?”
Of course he knew him. Who didn’t?
Agent Edward Osprey was a statuesque brown and white hawk that was even taller than Steelbeak. Everything about him was elegant and perfect from his immaculate feathers to his tailored blue suit coat, long-tailed shirt, black pants, and neatly folded white ascot. On top of being well-groomed and well-dressed, the man was undeniably handsome with his sharp features and piercing black eyes offset by yellow sclera- his eyes were even accentuated further by the brown band of feathers that cut perfectly across the lighter feathers on the rest of his face. He looked like he’d just stepped out of a painting; to have such perfect features shouldn’t have been possible in nature.
Oh, but the perfection didn’t end at the osprey’s looks- oh no. He was one of the most musically talented men Dominic had ever seen, being both a concert-level pianist and conductor- the orchestra which provided most of the evening’s music had been led by him when he wasn’t playing the grand piano for the crowd’s applause. The hawk was also an incredibly skilled agent specializing in sharp objects and weaponry with a nearly flawless track record under his belt. Add to that the fact that he was nothing but charming and gentlemanly to everyone he met (enemies not withstanding), and you had the walking reality-defying-perfection that was agent Edward Osprey.
“We’ve..met before, yes…” Dominic folded his arms over his chest, trying to look away while still keeping the source of his current stress and anxiety in his peripheral vision.
“Ya don’t sound too thrilled ‘bout it.” Steelbeak pointed out while eyeing his partner with one brow cocked. “I’m guessin’ ya don’t like the guy?”
Oh boy, now THERE was mine field that was difficult to navigate.. “I don’t…dislike him..”
“But ya don’t like ‘im either, right?” Once again, Steelbeak proved how good he’d gotten at reading the loon over the past few months.
Exhaling a heavy sigh, Dominic closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall behind them. “…Promise you won’t laugh.”
“Hmmm, weeeeeellll~” The fake contemplation ended when a single red eye opened just enough to side-eye the rooster with a warning glare, making said rooster break into a grin. “Alright, alright, I’ll hold it in.” The red eye narrowed at him and he held up his hands to show he wasn’t crossing any of his fingers. “Promise.”
Though he hardly trusted the other man’s word, Dominic would take what he could get. After taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes again, the words he’d been trying to avoid speaking aloud finally came out. “He makes me feel………uncomfortable..”
A brief but repressed snicker was heard before his red eyes opened and gave the taller fowl a warning glare. “Sorry, somethin’ in my throat.” A clear lie, but Dominic let it slide (this time). “So, why does Mr.Fancypants over there make ya uncomfortable? Knowin’ ‘im, he probably didn’t do nothin’ to ya on purpose- the guy takes it as some sorta personal offense if anyone forgets their manners ‘round ‘im. Think he’d have a stroke if he was the one bein’ rude for a change.”
“No, he isn’t rude- I don’t think he has it in him to be anything less than an absolutely perfect gentleman.” The loon looked across the room again, making sure the man in question was still far away and that no one was close enough to overhear him aside from his partner. “And that’s part of the problem: He’s just so..so-!”
“Practically perfect?” Steelbeak supplied, the look he gave the shorter fowl both amused and understanding.
“Yes.” Dominic groaned, rubbing a hand down his face in frustration. “He’s just so perfect in everything he does- he’s attractive, strong, clever, talented, gets along with EVERYONE, and has the highest record of successful missions in FOWL ever.” His eyes lingered on his hand as it lowered once more. “He’s so infuriatingly perfect that it makes me seem so…” His words trailed off into a mumble at the end, not wanting to voice how the hawk really made him feel…
“So, just t’ make sure I’ve got this whole thing right-” The lighter bird began without waiting for Dominic to repeat himself (likely because he knew he wouldn’t do so willingly). “Osprey’s so perfect that ya feel less perfect bein’ around ‘im?” Darn it, three for three- Steelbeak was on a roll tonight.
“Who wouldn’t?” He didn’t bother to look at his partner again while muttering his response.
He was right, of course: Who wouldn’t feel inferior next to someone like Edward Osprey?
“Heh.” The answer he received was a short, clipped laugh followed by the sound of retreating footsteps.
By the time Dominic looked back up to see what the other man was doing, the metal-mouthed fowl was heading towards the stage. “Steelbeak?” He called after him, but received no response.
One by one, others in the room began to notice the new figure stepping up onto the stage. It had been vacant for about twenty minutes now, allowing Osprey and his orchestra to take a break and enjoy the festivities themselves. With this in mind, it was understandable that the others in attendance were reasonably surprised to see none of the previous performers take to the stage- but the chief officer himself.
Steelbeak ignored the confused looks and hushed whispers as all eyes in the room were suddenly on him. He simply cracked his knuckles and shook out his fingers before seating himself at the grand piano, never even acknowledging them or saying a word.
Then, after taking a quick breath, he began to play.
The melody was captivating- soft but passionate; steady but rapid; light but powerful. Everything about it was such a contradiction, but it somehow just worked. It seemed to change and evolve as the song progressed, sometimes changing to the point of almost seeming like a completely new song, but then that familiar pattern would find a way to weave itself back in naturally to connect it all back together.
And then there was the sheer amount of skill and movement of those off-white fingers across the keys; they were practically a blur during the crescendos. The notes came so quickly that Steelbeak’s hands were never still, even for a second, often having different fingers of the same hand playing at completely separate rhythms from one another. Honestly, it was astonishing that they didn’t trip over themselves. It was almost mesmerizing to watch them fly and jump from one key to the next with expert timing.
Dominic was transfixed by the sights and sounds. While Steelbeak had told him of his experience as an undercover concert pianist on their first date, he had never actually heard him play before. He’d also never heard this song before, but there were no doubts in his mind that few could play it as well as Steelbeak was then and there.
Managing to tear his eyes away from the spectacle long enough to look around the room, it seemed he wasn’t the only one to feel that way. Everyone was staring in awe at their chief officer’s jaw-dropping performance. Even Osprey, who’d worked his way closer to the stage since the song began, seemed genuinely shocked and amazed by Steelbeak’s playing.
The song reached its final crescendo and Steelbeak let it drag on for a moment. Before anyone could pick their collective jaws up off of the floor and react appropriately, however, he immediately began to play another tune.
While still incredibly difficult to play and requiring a good deal of hand-acrobatics to hit each note properly, this one was softer than the last. There was something light and almost..sweet to it- as if the first one was to show off, but this one was to communicate something deeper.
This was another song that Dominic was unfamiliar with but, judging by the similar movements required to play the complex melody properly, it felt like it was by the same composer.
It stirred something in him as he listened, the gentle tune causing a pleasant shiver to linger in his body and a warm feeling to blossom in his chest. For a moment, he thought of the love songs he’d heard in the past- of their cheesy lyrics declaring adoration that ultimately became meaningless with how many people sang those words over and over again. Those songs were cute, but they ultimately felt hollow without a sense of genuine romance to them.
This song, though…This one, without any words or blatant messages to project, somehow felt more like a true love song than any the loon had ever heard in his life. This was raw, passionate, gentle, and beautiful all at once…and he’d be lying if he said the thought didn’t have him blushing a little..
By the time Steelbeak finished playing and stood up, the partygoers had recovered from their initial shock and finally applauded the exemplary performance they’d been treated to. Steelbeak, for his part, just smirked and gave a quick wave over his shoulder as he left the stage, not even taking a bow despite how well-earned it was at that point.
“Not that I’m complaining,” Dominic began once the other man joined him against the wall once more. “But what was that about?”
Steelbeak looked down at him with a smirk, but it was less teasing and far softer than usual. “Just MY way of answerin’ your question.” Before the loon could ask for clarification, Steelbeak looked towards the piano he’d just been playing. “You were askin’ who wouldn’t feel less perfect ‘round someone like Osprey: I wouldn’t ‘cause I know I’ve got somethin’ I’m better at than him.” Dark grey eyes returned their attention to the red ones still looking up at him. “One thing I’ve learned from bein’ chief officer all these years is that ya can’t be better than everyone at everythin’, someone’s ALWAYS gonna have somethin’ they’re better at than you are. The trick t’ stayin’ on top an’ remindin’ everyone why YOU’RE the king an’ they’re the pawns is t’ find the one thing you’re better at than whoever you’re up against an’ make ‘em feel like you’re superior ‘cause of it.”
Dominic took a moment to digest this new philosophy. It certainly seemed to make sense, and would probably explain why Steelbeak always acted like he was better than everyone- it was a way to stay on top and keep others from challenging him by appearing superior. While this information was useful, there was still one part of the chief officer’s advice that was easier said than done: “So you’re saying that I have to find something I’m better at than him? That’s asking a lot since I don’t have any comparative talents like you do.” Dominic didn’t really have much experience with playing instruments or conducting, so he couldn’t use that for any sort of advantage (and while his singing voice was pretty good, he’d never heard Osprey’s so it would be hard to compare them). They were experts with completely different weaponry, so no luck there. The hawk had a better track record for missions than he did, so he couldn’t use anything work related. “I don’t think-”
“You’re a better leader.”
Red eyes blinked in confusion and stared up at the taller bird. “What?”
“You’re a better leader.” The other repeated once more, looking down at the loon with an expression halfway between a smirk and an encouraging smile. “Osprey’s got one heck of a record with missions an’ gets along with everyone, but you’re a better leader than him: Ya know when t’ be nice an’ when t’ be serious. Ya know when t’ listen t’ others an’ when t’ make ‘em listen t’ YOU instead. Ya walk int’ the room an’ command guys three times your size t’ shut up an’ do what they’re told an’ put ‘em in their place if they even THINK ‘bout talkin’ back.” With a smirk, he inclined his head in the general direction of the crowd. “That’s why you’re over here with me an’ he’s over there with them. Sure, his track-record’s higher, but YOU’RE the one High Command picked t’ stand at the top with me- ya beat him an’ everyone else in FOWL for your position ‘cause ya deserved it.” Having made his point, Steelbeak reclined fully against the wall once more, his hands raised to cushion his head against the hard surface in a casual manner. “If anyone ever makes ya question yourself, just remember: I actually listen t’ YOU.”
Dominic was floored (and..maybe a little touched?) by his partner’s words.
After a moment of contemplation, he began to feel a smile slip onto his beak. Steelbeak had a valid point and wasn’t just stroking Dominic’s ego: The loon WAS a pretty good leader. He could coordinate teams ranging from two people to two hundred. He learned his teammates’ strengths and weaknesses and planned around them accordingly to complete any task he’d been assigned.
And, if nothing else, getting someone as bigheaded and arrogant as Steelbeak to listen to him HAD to count for something.
Before he had the chance to thank the chief officer for his rare-words of encouragement, another voice added itself to their conversation. “Steelbeak, your performance was absolutely awe-inspiring!” Looking away from one another to see who’d come to join them, the deadly duo saw none other than Edward Osprey approaching them. He smiled and bowed his head politely. “Do forgive my intrusion, but I simply HAD to commend you for your beautiful rendition of La Campanella: That is an incredibly difficult piece that I struggle with even after a few warm-ups.”
Steelbeak ate up the praise as one would expect, giving Osprey a smirk while idly bringing one hand around to inspect his fingers like a girl checking her nails for imperfections. “Woooow, really? That’s what I play FOR my warm-ups. Start with the harder ones an’ everythin’ else’s easy, y’know?”
“I suppose you’re right.” Osprey was quick to agree, never losing his genial smile. “Though, I must say, I didn’t know you were so familiar with Liszt. Your playing of Love Dream was very emotional- anyone in particular you were dedicating that performance to?”
That actually seemed to trip the rooster up a little, Dominic catching a bit of red on the other’s cheeks between his light feathers as he tried to play it off cool-and-casual. “I mean…maybe…it’s just a song, though, no big deal..”
It was Dominic’s turn to smirk knowingly at the other man. “Well, if there was someone you had in mind while playing it, I’m fairly certain they would have found it beautiful and charming.”
Steelbeak side-eyed the loon, his cheeks going a bit darker, but was saved by another agent coming up to them. “Hey, can you play one more? Everyone loved you out there!” To the trio’s surprise, the request was directed at Steelbeak rather than Osprey.
“Eh, I dunno-” Steelbeak started to say, but his eyes wandered over to Dominic and something in those dark grey depths shifted. “…Ya know what? Sure. I can handle one more.” Then, to everyone’s delight, he walked back up to the stage and took his seat at the piano once more.
“I had no idea he was so talented.” Osprey admitted to Dominic once the lighter bird was out of earshot. “I must admit, I’m a little jealous that you get to work so closely with him- that man’s been chief officer longer than some of us have even been agents.” He looked away from the stage to meet the loon’s gaze directly. “I can only imagine what you must have gone through to earn his respect and companionship.”
“Thank you. It has been.. a journey, to say the least…” Dominic was more than a little surprised..but not necessarily by the taller man’s words- Osprey was polite to everyone and was no stranger to sincere flattery. No, what REALLY surprised the loon was the fact that he just had a conversation (albeit a brief one) with Edward Osprey without any feelings of anxiety or inferiority rising up within him.
What Osprey said next was lost on Dominic as he heard Steelbeak begin to play. This song was different from the others. It was a completely different composer, era, and genre of music- one that the loon was all too familiar with since it had been played in his car a couple of times while his partner sat beside him in the passenger seat praising his singing of the accompanying lyrics. A soft smile tugged at his beak as Dominic listened to the equally soft melody, knowing that this was likely just Steelbeak’s way of driving his earlier point home and wasn’t really meant to be recognized by anyone else.
It was Dominic’s turn to receive a few stares- first from the other agents in the room, and then from Steelbeak himself when he passed in front of the piano to grab the microphone that had been left in its stand nearby. Once he removed it from its spot and made it more mobile, Dominic walked closer to the piano and leaned against it casually. He did a circular gesture with two of his fingers and Steelbeak smiled, instantly knowing what his partner wanted.
Without missing a beat, Steelbeak smoothly looped the song back to the beginning and nodded to Dominic when it was time to join in.
Nodding back, the darker bird brought the microphone closer to his beak and closed his eyes as he began to sing. “You're a-lone. You're on your own. So what? Have you gone blind? Have you for-got-ten what you have and whaaat is yours?”
He blocked out the stage lights; blocked out the crowd around them and their eyes on him. “Glass haaalf empty~, glass haaalf full- well~, either way you won't be go~ing thirsty; Count your blessings, not your flaws.”
There was only one set of eyes on him that mattered right now, and he knew the look they held without even having to see them. “You've got it all~ You lost your mind in the sound. There's so much mooore, you can reclaim your crown. You're in controoll- Rid of the monsters insi~de your head…Put all your faults to bed…You can be king a~gain…”
Another quick breath stolen between verses and he gained the confidence to open his eyes, but he kept his gaze locked solely on the one gazing back at him with awe and adoration. “You don't get wha~at all thiiss i~s a~bout. You're too wra~pped up in your self-doubt. You've got that young blood, set it free…”
The smile on Steelbeak’s face was brighter than any of the lights pointed at the pair on stage, making Dominic feel twice as warm and making him smile just as much. “You've got it all~ You lost your mind in the sound. There's so much mooore, you can reclaim your crown. You're in controoll- Rid of the monsters insi~de your head…Put all your faults to~ bed…You can be king.”
There was a spark of something in the air between them- that same connection they shared when they were working together to take down an enemy that made both of them feel so much more aware of one another on a completely different level. “There's method i~n my ma~adness…There's no looogic in your sa~dness…You don't gaaiinn a siinngle thing from misery~yy…Take it from mee~ee…”
He used his free hand to close the piano’s cover, careful not to let it drop and ruin the gentle decrescendo of the song. “You've got it all~ You lost your mind in the sound. There's so much mooore, you can reclaim your crown. You're in controoll- Rid of the monsters insi~de your head…Put all your faults to~ bed…You can be king.”
Dominic gracefully lifted himself up to sit on the closed piano, one hand holding the microphone in front of him while the other was braced behind him so he could lean back with his legs crossed in front of him- head tipped back as he belted out the notes of the final verse. “You've got it all! You lost your mind in the sound! There's so much mooore, you can reclaim your crown! You're in control- Rid of the monsters inside your head! Put all your faults to bed…You can be king again!”
Red eyes met dark grey, one additional line being sung softly and with so much more feeling than any other line before it. “We can be kings a~gain.”
Steelbeak’s playing came to an end and the two were left staring at one another fondly. There were cheers and applause and words being called to them, but neither man payed them any mind.
After all, they were the kings standing at the top.
End Notes: For anyone who’s curious, here are the songs that Steelbeak played in order: The first is La Campanella by Liszt. The second is Liebstraum No.3, also known as Love Dream, also by Liszt. And the final piece that Domino sang along to at the end was King by Lauren Aquilina.
When choosing the first two songs for Steelbeak to play, I asked a couple of my friends who were piano majors in high school what the most difficult type of music to play is that still sounds good. The general consensus among most of them was, and I quote, “people who hate their hands but love to please others usually play Liszt”- and La Campanella came up repeatedly as one of the hardest songs to play, so I went with it xD
Once again, happy birthday to @thefriendlyfour / @eleanorose123 ! Hope you had a good one and thank you for another year of awesome content!
19 notes
·
View notes
Angels & Devils Part XI : I’m Yours, You’re Mine
A n g e l s & D e v i l s || Tomorrow x Together Fanfiction
~ p a r t s : main post || prologue || part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 || part 5 || part 6 || part 7 || part 8 || part 9 || part 10 || part 11 || part 12 || part 13 || part 14 || part 15 || part 16 || part 17
~ p a i r i n g : love triangle involving choi soobin and choi yeonjun
~ g e n r e : high school au | some social media au | some fluff & angst | childhood friends | love triangle
~ l a n g u a g e : English
~ w a r n i n g : contains swearing, alcohol, kissing (?) and may contain mature themes (angst, etc.)
~ a / n : This will be my first fanfic (go easy on me pls) and i’m just writing this as I go along, so bear with me juseyo
The setting (place/country) of the story is up to the reader’s interpretation
~ s u m m a r y : What should she choose?
Han Baby: the new girl with a troubled past
MO Academy: her new high school
Choi Soobin: student council president, member of the Ecosave club, volunteer at the Humane Treatment of Animals, member of the Honor Society, a vocalist in the Jazzed club, the school’s all around golden boy
Choi Yeonjun: leader of the Dance club, star of the Jazzed club, the school’s it boy with a bad rep
5 best friends, 1 new girl, 1 childhood friendship, 1 epic love triangle? What will this school year bring?
Over the weekend, B and Kai had spent most of their time lounging around the living room, finishing the entire season of It’s Okay to Not Be Okay on Netflix on Saturday and having a movie marathon on Sunday. They ordered all their meals and had all the food they wanted delivered to the apartment, their food cravings ranging from donuts and milk tea to egg tarts and mint chocolate ice cream. It felt like one of the many sleepovers they used to have when they were kids, only now it was just the 2 of them in a place of their own, without nosy siblings or strict parents to bother them or tell them what they could or couldn’t do.
Other than stuffing their faces with food and drowning their emotions in Netflix, they finally had all the time in the world to do all the catching up that they hadn’t been able to, asking questions and telling stories about what they had missed out on each other’s lives through the years.
“First kiss?” B asks.
“Oh, I think I was in the 7th grade, and it was with Im Yeojin. You?”
“Lucas Wong. A couple of years ago.” B responds.
Kai shakes his head. “That guy was your first kiss ever? Lucas? Your ex?”
B nods. “The one and only. Next question please?”
“Alright, worst ex?” Kai asks intentionally.
“Ningning, you know I’ve only had 1 boyfriend.”
“Yes, and he was the worst! He had the audacity to cheat on you! And all because you wouldn’t ‘put out?’ He's lucky I lived 3 hours away or else I would’ve kicked his ass.” Kai says, huffing.
B laughs, trying to swallow down the lump in her throat that formed whenever she talked about her horrible ex boyfriend. There was so much more to their relationship than him cheating on her cause she wouldn’t put out, but she wasn’t ready to let her best friend know all about it just yet. “Thanks, but judging by the size of his biceps, I don’t think that could’ve ever happened anyway.”
Kai pouts. “Are you saying I should start going to the gym?”
B laughs at him dismissively before changing the subject.
Also, sharing a living space with another person was also a bit of an adjustment for B since she had already gotten used to living alone. Her apartment only had one bathroom which she now shared with Kai, and now she had to keep all her personal toiletries set aside and her feminine hygiene products kept away, not wanting a repeat of the horrifying moment when her best friend walked out of the bathroom with his face all red.
“What happened to you?” she had asked, noticing how flushed he looked after being in the bathroom for 20 minutes.
“You know that when I’m, um, taking a shit I like to read the back of labels of whatever I see in the bathroom, right?” Kai starts slowly.
“Okay, weird, but go on.”
He takes a big gulp before continuing. “Well, let’s just say I now know how to properly put on a tampon. And let me just say, I’m glad I wasn’t born a woman.”
After that incident, B made sure to keep all feminine hygiene products hidden away in the bathroom cabinets. She ensured to leave a stack of random books and magazines on the bathroom counters so Kai would have something to read when doing his business. Other than that, B also had to remind herself that it was no longer socially acceptable to walk around her apartment in nothing but a tshirt and underwear on, since she had gotten used to roaming the space without worrying about other people seeing what she looked like. She usually went to bed in just a shirt and underwear and roll out of bed and straight into the kitchen for breakfast without a care in the world. Now, she had to double check and make sure that she was wearing bottoms and a bra before stepping out of her bedroom.
Even though there were many things she hadn’t considered before inviting a guy to stay in her apartment, she had to admit that it was nice to have company around. She hadn’t realized how lonely it was to live alone until Kai had come along, and now she was already sort of dreading the day when he’d get better and move out. She was starting to consider finding a room mate before then, knowing that she’d feel lonely once her company had to leave.
Come Monday morning, B woke up feeling excited. She rolled out of bed, put on a pair of shorts, and made her way to the kitchen, only to be surprised by the sight of breakfast already prepared on the table. A plate full of bacon and sunny side up eggs, a bowl full of fresh fruit and cereal, and a glass of blue lemonade were all neatly laid out on the table, and Kai was sitting there with an apron still tied around his waist. When he saw B step out from her room, he immediately greeted her “Wakey wakey Baba, time to go back to school!”
B rubs the sleep from her eyes, making sure she wasn’t just dreaming that Kai had prepared breakfast for her. Once the smell of freshly cooked bacon filled wafted in the air, she immediately brightens up and walks on over to give her best friend a hug.
“Ningning, you did all this for me? Thank you so much!” she says in awe.
“Yup, I wanted to make it special since it’ll be your first day back at MOA today.” Kai says. “Now hurry up before it gets cold. You have to be ready in 40 minutes.”
B all but gobbles up all the food that Kai had prepared for her before jumping into the shower, drying her hair, putting on some make up and changing into her school uniform, making sure she had everything she needed before letting Kai walk her to the front door.
“Have fun, Baba!” Kai says.
“Sure thing. Make sure to keep the door locked and call me if you need anything.” she says, waving goodbye before making her way downstairs to meet Taehyun.
As soon as Taehyun sees her, his eyes visibly light up.
“B! Finally, I’ve missed you so much.” he says, waving hello before stretching his arms out towards her. “Come here!”
B excitedly runs up, preparing to hug Taehyun, until at the last minute he folds his hands across his chest and takes a step back, which stops her in her tracks.
“On second thought, don’t touch me. You may be medically cleared already, but since Hyuka’s staying with you, you might still be carrying the pox.” he says. It’s only then when she notices that he was wearing a face mask and had a small spray bottle of alcohol hanging from his school ID lace.
She smiles at him sheepishly. “I missed you too, you know.” she says, opting to wrap her arms around her own torso instead.
He laughs at her silly antics before following suit, wrapping his arms around himself. “Let’s just pretend that we’re hugging right now.”
B nods. “Alrighty. Thanks, Tyun.”
“Don’t mention it. Now come on, put on your face mask and make sure you have hand sanitizer before we go.” he says, adjusting the mask on his face.
She puts on a mask and puts a small bottle of hand sanitizer in her pocket before they start making their way to school.
“I’ve missed these walks of ours.” B says happily, breathing in the morning air.
“I’ve missed them too. And I’ve missed you. School was a bit boring without you, and walking to school alone just didn’t feel the same.”
“How have things at MOA been, apart from the health protocols? And how are the guys?” B asks.
“Apart from the implementation of health protocols, school has pretty much been the same. The guys miss you. I think they’re excited to see you.” Taehyun responds.
“I miss them too.” B says, sighing. She and Yeonjun had FaceTimed every night through the weekend, but she missed him, and she felt a bit sad that they had to cancel their supposed last date. She had to admit that she missed the other guys too. “What makes you think they’re excited to see me, though?”
“They told me to ask you if you could meet them by the front gate of MOA before classes start this morning.” Taehyun says.
“Oh? They did? Weird, but okay. I wonder why.” B says, trying to think of why they might want to meet up. “How have you been? Has anything in your life changed in the past week?” she asks.
Taehyun shrugs. “Not really, same old same old. Just the usual studying at school and working at the café.” he says. “What about you? How have you been doing?”
B shrugs too, mimicking his response. “I’ve been good, nothing much going on.” she says casually, which was a lie. She wanted to tell him about Yeonjun and about how he asked her out and all the dates he put together, but a part of her was scared about how he’d react, so she thought it would be better to tell him when the time was right.
As she and Taehyun approach the campus, her eyes catch sight of 3 familiar figures standing right outside of the gates, particularly to the head of blue hair.
B feels her heart jump out of her chest, speeding up her walking, and Taehyun runs to catch up to her as she starts waving her arms in the air the closer they got until the 3 boys look up in her direction and they all wave back.
“Seriously, you 3, why aren’t you wearing face masks?” Taehyun says as they meet the 3 boys outside the gate.
“Well good morning to you too, Tyun.” Beomgyu says playfully. “Relax, we’re not within campus grounds so we don’t have to wear masks yet.”
B laughs at their banter. “I think Tyun’s just worried that you’ll catch Kai’s chicken pox germs if you stand too close to me without a mask on.” she jokes. “So, why are we meeting up here outside the gates instead of at the front steps like we usually do?”
“Hey, B! Good to see you again.” Beomgyu says.
“Well, you see, there are new health protocols set in place on campus right now, and as members of the student council, we can never be caught violating any rules set within the school.” Yeonjun begins, smiling at her brightly, like there was a secret that only the 2 of them shared.
“Alright, and…?” B asks, not sure where they were going with this.
“And before we go in and start off another week of school, there’s just this 1 health protocol we’d like to violate.” Beomgyu continues.
“Okay, which one? Is it the face mask thing? Why are we standing outside the school gates?” B asks, still confused.
“So we can do this.” Soobin says, before taking a step towards B with arms outstretched and pulling her into him, his whole body engulfing her in a hug.
He feels time stop the moment his arms wrap themselves around her body, her face buried in his chest, the top of her head inches away from his chin, the smell of her lavender-scented shampoo tickling his nose, his hands resting on the curves in her waist.
When Soobin woke up feeling excited that day, he told himself it was just because he was excited to start a new week of school, but deep down he knew that wasn’t the case.
When the guys suggested that they wait for B outside the school gates so that they could greet her a proper ‘welcome back,’ he felt a flutter in his chest, and he told himself that it was just because he was happy that their group would be complete again (minus Kai), but deep down, he knew he was only fooling himself.
When he and the guys stood outside the school gates waiting for B and Taehyun to arrive, he could feel his heart start to beat even faster in anticipation, and he told himself it was just because he was looking forward to see their friend again after a whole week, but he knew there was more to it than that.
When he saw her waving her arms in the air and walking towards them, he felt his breath catch in his throat, and he told himself it was just because he was surprised to see her looking so radiant and healthy knowing how badly sick she was, but he knew it was because of how he was just now realizing how beautiful she really was.
When he took a step towards her and engulfed her delicate figure in his arms, feeling the warmth of her body against his, a feeling washed over him unlike anything he’s experienced before, as if by having her in his arms everything in the world was finally falling into place and the pounding in his chest and the flutter of butterfly wings in his stomach finally made sense, and it was at that moment he knew with absolute certainty just what it was.
It was her. It was B.
He didn’t know how it came to be, or why exactly it happened, but all he knew was that it was her.
It was him realizing that he was falling in love with her.
And the feeling hit him so suddenly with such clarity that for a moment, it felt like the whole world stood still, as his breath seemed to catch in his throat and time seemed to stop as he held her in his arms, savoring the moment and all the emotions that were hitting him all at once.
She lets out a surprised squeal as Soobin pulls her in, only to be muffled by her face being buried in his chest as they embrace.
“Soobinie!” she says, laughing in surprise. “I missed you too.”
Soobin smiles to himself, tempted to rest his chin on her head, but he was aware of the presence of their friends, so he slowly lets her go, his eyes meeting Taehyun’s as he does, and Taehyun’s expression quickly changes as he realizes what was happening.
Taehyun raises his brows in question, and Soobin gives him a quick and discreet nod in response, to which Taehyun shakes his head.
Soobin keeps his head down to conceal the blush creeping into his face as B steps away and Beomgyu tackles her into a hug.
“We missed you so much! I wish I could’ve gotten an excuse to skip school for a week too, though.” Beomgyu says slyly.
“Hey, I did not skip school! I called you everyday to listen in on lectures, remember?” B says defensively, hitting Beomgyu’s chest. “If you wanna stay at home so bad, maybe you should come over to my place. I’m sure Hyuka would gladly give you a big hug, along with the chicken pox of course.”
Beomgyu steps away and holds his hands up in the air in front of him. “No way, I don’t want chicken pox. I’d rather endure school than have hideous spots all over my body.”
B looks at him offended. “You think I have hideous spots all over my body?” she says through gritted teeth.
“Oh, now you’ve done it, Gyu.” Taehyun says, watching as Beomgyu runs away from B to hide behind him. “Don’t worry B, I’ll help you kidnap him after school. I think Hyuka would like to have an extra playmate.”
“I never said that!” Beomgyu cries, running from Taehyun to Yeonjun now, hiding behind the blue haired boy. “B, you look beautiful as always. If anything, the spots just accentuate your beauty.” he says desperately.
B scoffs. “Oh shut up. You’re lucky I like you, or else I would’ve slapped you so hard that the spots would transfer from my skin to yours.”
Yeonjun laughs, shielding Beomgyu behind him. “Wow, I never pegged you to be violent.” he says.
B shrugs. “I’m not. I’m just saying, I could slap someone if I wanted to.”
Yeonjun shakes his head, pulling her into his arms. “Welcome back, Baby.” he whispers in her ear, giving her a quick peck on the cheek and slowly stroking the small of her back, making sure that the other boys don’t see, before letting her go.
Once she pulls away, her face is noticeably red, and Yeonjun can’t help but laugh. God, she looked adorable. He gives her a quick wink before saying “And now that that’s settled, shall we head to class?”
The 3 boys put on their facemasks and let B lead the way into the school gates, each of them having their body temperatures checked and their hands disinfected before walking through the gates.
As B walks ahead of the boys, the 4 boys pair off.
Beomgyu slings an arm around Yeonjun’s shoulders, keeping his voice low as he says “So now that’s she’s back, will you guys have the talk now?”
“What talk?” Yeonjun asks.
“The talk? The relationship talk. You know, the talk about your feelings and where you guys stand and what your label is and stuff like that.” Beomgyu says knowingly. “If the 2 of you don’t want to put a label on whatever it is you 2 are, then you should at least let the other guys know that you’re dating.”
Yeonjun shrugs. “Don’t worry, Gyu. I’ve got it all planned out, you’ll see. I’ve been planning this for days now, but considering that we’re at school, I’ll have to make do. At the end of the day, we might even let you guys know about us.” he responds, his eyes glued to the girl in front of them, which automatically puts a smile on his face. “I’m gonna make that girl mine.”
Meanwhile, Taehyun attempts to sling his arm around Soobin’s shoulders, but with the other boy being much taller and walking a bit faster, he settled for interlocking his arm around Soobin’s instead.
“Oh, hey Tyun.” Soobin says, surprised by the sudden lock on his arm. “What’s up?”
“’What’s up?’” Taehyun says, mimicking him. “You tell me. All your questions about falling in love and stuff…were they about B? Is it her? Are you in love with—”
Soobin cuts him off. “Shhh, the other guys might hear you!” he says, hurriedly looking around and seeing that no one was within ear shot. “Yes, it’s about her. Let’s talk about this later, okay? Alone.”
Taehyun sighs. “Fine, but wow, I should’ve known. I had a feeling it was her. You 2 would make a great couple.” he says teasingly.
“Oh shut up, you know-it-all.” Soobin says, flustered. “I’m sure you would’ve figured it out sooner or later anyway, you’re too damn smart, you know?”
Taehyun laughs. “It doesn’t take a genius to see that you’ve got it bad, Binnie.” he says. “Let’s talk about it soon, okay? Just hang in there.”
Soobin sighs, his eyes focus on the girl walking in front of them. “Trust me, I’m trying.”
•°•
B had to admit that Yeonjun’s sudden request had her heart fluttering, but more than anything it got her head buzzing with curiosity. Within 5 minutes she had excused herself from class, 3rd period biology which she didn’t share with any of the guys, and she was on her way to the student council room, which she had only been to once before with Soobin and Yeonjun. Technically, she was cutting class, but a few minutes probably wouldn’t hurt.
B takes a deep breath, not knowing what quite to expect, before turning the knob on the double doors to the student council room, taking a step inside.
The room was dark, the blackout curtains doing their job, and was only illuminated by the light spilling in from the door and a set of candles in the middle of the conference table, which also highlighted the fact that the conference table seemed to be overflowing with blue rose petals.
And there was Yeonjun, leaning against the table, a single blue rose in his hand. It’s only then when B looks down and notices that the carpeted floor all the way from the entrance of the room to the spot where Yeonjun was standing by the conference table was littered with blue rose petals.
“Yeonjun? What is this?” B asks, stepping inside and closing the door behind her, the only source of light in the room now coming from the candles. She removes her face mask, noticing that he wasn’t currently wearing one, and pockets it in her blazer.
“Baby. Come here.” he says, patting the spot on the table beside him. B walks over to the table, stepping on countless blue petals as she did so, and once she reaches him, Yeonjun takes her by surprise and carries her, lifting her up and setting her down on the table.
“Yeonjun!” she squeals in surprise, clinging on to him for dear life. As her bottom hits the table, she lets go and whacks his arm. “You surprised me!” she huffs, surprised by his sudden maneuver. “And you’re breaking the health protocols! What’s all this for anyway?”
He stands in front of her, simply staring at her, admiring how she looked in the candlelight. A few blue petals had fallen over the edge when he set her down on the table, but that didn’t bother him. He had skipped the entirety of 3rd period to prepare for this moment, so he wouldn’t let anything distract him now.
“All this?” he simply says. Upon seeing the confused look on her face, he takes a step towards her, situating himself in between her dangling legs, and he rests his hands on either side of her, his palms laid flat on the table just centimeters away from her thighs. The whole mood in the room shifted from playful to something different with just that simple action. “All this is for you.”
B could feel her heart start to pound in her chest again. She tried to keep a level head but Yeonjun was standing so close that she could smell him, the scent of his cologne now very familiar to her, and she could feel parts of his uniform lightly tickling at her inner thighs where he stood, sending shivers down her spine. “For me? Why?”
“Because, Baby, you deserve it. You deserve all of it.” he begins carefully, slowly, his gaze locking her in place. “I told you I want to give you all the good things you deserve, and during the past week I tried. Those dates meant a lot to me and I can only hope that you enjoyed them half as much as I did. My plans were cut short because of your unexpected temporary roommate,” he says, fondly referring to Kai, “and maybe I should’ve waited a little bit longer to do this, but I don’t think I can keep this to myself any longer.”
B looks down then, her cheeks starting to heat up. She sees how close his hands are to her thighs and her mouth goes dry. He was standing so close. “What are you talking about?” she says, her eyes transfixed on his hands.
Her eyes follow as he raises one hand to cup her face, lifting it up slightly to meet his gaze. “I want you, Baby.” he says, looking right into her eyes. “I want you to be mine.”
B takes a deep breath, finding herself unable to look away, before she says “I want you, too.”
And with those words, Yeonjun couldn’t resist any longer. He leaned forward, closing what little distance was left between them, and pulled her face up to his, their lips crashing together.
~ w a r n i n g : makeout scene ~
Praying that he couldn’t hear her pounding heartbeat, B returns the kiss with equal fervor, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him even closer. Her fingers entwine themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck, effectively disheveling his blue hair.
Yeonjun’s hands inch away from the table and come in direct contact with her thighs, the sudden warmth of his palms on her bare skin causing B’s mouth to open a little to let out a breath of surprise. She feels him smile against her lips, amused by her reaction, before taking the opportunity to trace her lower lip with his tongue, seeking entrance, which she allows.
His hands start to move slowly up her body then, he slides them up from her thighs to her waist, her skirt hiking up a few inches higher in the process. He breaks the kiss, allowing a moment for them to catch their breaths, before bowing his head down, his lips coming in contact with the sensitive skin on her neck.
“Oh god.” B breathes out, surprised by the contact, and again she feels his lips form a smile against her skin. She tilts her head backwards, his lips trailing kisses along her exposed skin, her heavy breaths starting to make her feel lightheaded.
Just as he’s about to pull away, his lips brush against the dip in her collarbone, causing her to wrap her legs around his waist and her fingers in his hair to dig in deeper, her body reacting to him before her mind could grasp what was happening.
“Fuck.” he breathes against her skin, feeling himself start to lose control.
B’s grip loosens then, her hands dropping from his hair to rest on his shoulders, her breathing heavy as she lets her head fall forward to rest on the top of his head, his face still buried in her neck. “Sorry.” she whispers, trying to control the rise and fall of her chest.
His grip on her waist remains tight, her blouse bunched up in his fists, his head buried in her neck as he tries to calm himself down, his breath coming out through clenched teeth. For a moment, they stay like that, until Yeonjun’s grip gradually starts to loosen, letting go of the fabric of her blouse as his hands go from clenching her waist to gently tracing circles on the now exposed skin on her hips.
~ end of makeout scene ~
“You…” he begins slowly, lifting his head and letting it rest against her forehead, their breaths mingling. “You drive me crazy, you know?”
She lets out a small laugh, shaking her head lightly against his. “Not really, no.”
He laughs too, reaching a hand up to caress her hair, his eyes on hers once again. “Baby.” he simply says.
“Yes?” she responds, unable to stop a smile from creeping on her face. He smiles too, his heart fluttering, and he takes a deep breath before saying the next few words.
“Will you be my girlfriend?”
She nods her head eagerly, their foreheads rubbing together. “Choi Yeonjun, I’m all yours.” she says, laughing upon seeing his bright smile. She kisses his nose, then his forehead and each of his cheeks. He starts laughing as she showers his face with light kisses. “I’m yours, you’re mine, Baby.” he says, the feeling washing over him.
“You think it’s safe to let everyone know now?” Yeonjun asks her, remembering how he promised Beomgyu they’d tell the rest of the boys about it soon.
B nods, biting her lip as she thinks of how people would react to the news. Yeonjun was her boyfriend. “Yes.”
He uses his thumb to free her lower lip from her teeth, gently tracing it before kissing her softly again. “Let’s tell the guys later. At lunch.” he says, referring to their daily lunchbreaks spent at the gazebo.
“Sure.” she says. Then she pulls away and pushes herself off the table, straightening out her uniform as she does so. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a Biology class to get back to.”
Yeonjun smirks, watching her pull her skirt down and tuck the hem of her blouse back in, straightening her blazer and running her fingers through her hair. It gave him some sort of satisfaction, knowing that he had gotten her so disheveled. He leans back against the table, running a hand through his hair and straightening out his necktie as well, keeping his hands in the front pockets of his trousers.
“Aren’t you coming back to class?” B asks, pulling the face mask out of her blazer pocket and putting securing it over her nose and mouth. “There’s only a few more minutes, and then it’ll be our lunch break.”
Yeonjun shakes his head. “I never went to third period.” he admits. “You better get back to class and surrender your hall pass though. I’ll meet you at the gazebo for lunch.” he says.
B’s mouth drops open. “You skipped third period?” she exclaims. “Please promise me you won’t skip classes again, please?” she pouts.
He laughs, taking her hand and pulling her closer. “I promise. Except for when my father requests it, though. But this is the last non-business related time I skip class.” he says, kissing the back of her hand. “You better hurry back, the bell rings in about 10 minutes.”
“Oh my god, I am so dead!” she squeals, her eyes widen as starts to pull away, but Yeonjun’s grip on her wrist keeps her in place.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he says pointedly, his brow raised.
“Oh.” she simply says, before standing on her tiptoes and using a finger to pull her mask down, giving him a quick peck on the lips before pulling the mask back up. “That?”
He laughs, shaking his head. “You are adorable. I meant this,” he says, planting the single blue rose in her free hand. “but thanks, Baby.”
She blushes beet red then, straightening out her blazer one last time and quickly saying “See you at lunch, Yeonjun!” before dashing out the door.
He uses the remaining 10 minutes of 3rd period to distract himself from his thoughts by cleaning up all the rose petals he had set up. He wasn’t expecting things to get so heated, he only wanted to ask her to be his girlfriend, but he had to admit that he was pleasantly surprised by the turn of events. Just thinking about how she had reacted to his touches and how adorably flustered she got made him smile to himself, but the memory of her wrapping her legs around his waist and tilting her head back sent his mind wandering into the very place he was trying to distract himself from in the first place.
He sighs, shaking his head as he forced his thoughts to go focus into another mindset instead. He checks his watch, the petals all put away in a garbage bag. As the lunch bell rings, he grabs his things and locks the student council room behind him, putting on a face mask before making his way to the gazebo where he would meet his friends and his girlfriend for lunch.
Now he just had to tell his friends about his girlfriend.
•°•
When B got back to her Biology class, the teacher fortunately didn’t seem to notice that she was gone for well over 5 minutes, but her friends definitely did. When she sat back down beside Ryujin and Yuna, they definitely noticed how long her absence was, and they took note of how flushed she looked, and of the blue rose that he had haphazardly tucked under her blazer.
“Spill it. Now.” the 2 girls eagerly say, eyeing her like a hawk.
“Yeonjun asked me to meet up with him at the student council room.” B whispers to them, making sure that they were the only ones within earshot.
“Ooh, a steamy secret rendezvous in the middle of class?” Ryujin says teasingly.
“No, it wasn’t like that.” B aggressively whispers back, well-aware of how her cheeks were heating up as she tries to push away thoughts of Yeonjun’s lips on her neck.
“So what was it like then?” Yuna asks innocently.
Unable to contain her smile, B says “He asked me to be his girlfriend. And I said yes.”
The 2 girls quietly squeal at the good news. “Wow! Congrats!” Ryujin says.
Yuna nods. “Wow, and just like that for the first time in 2 years, Choi Yeonjun has a girlfriend.”
“2 years? He hasn’t had a girlfriend in 2 years?” B asks, surprised. Since everyone kept mentioning Yeonjun having a record for being one of the biggest flirts on campus, she was expecting him to have a long list of complicated past relationships.
“Well, real serious girlfriends, yeah. He’s been on a few dates with some girls since then, but it never really went beyond that so I wouldn’t call them girlfriends. And if I’m not mistaken, she was his first girlfriend. His first love, actually.” Yuna says thoughtfully. “I don’t really know her since she was never a student here.”
“I did, sort of.” Ryujin pipes up. “Gyu told me all about the guys’ past relationships. He mentioned Yeonjun and Rose’s relationship a lot. He said she was…” she starts, trying to choose her words carefully. “well, a complete bitch.”
“Rose?” B says, the name completely foreign to her. “His first girlfriend? So he’s only had 1 other girlfriend before me? And she was a complete bitch?” she asks, her head spinning with information.
Ryuji nods. “Yeah, despite his track record and dating history, he’s only ever had 1 serious relationship, and that was with Rose.” she says. “Gyu said they were intense. It was one of those relationships that were just so, um, loud I guess?”
“Loud? What do you mean?” B asks, genuinely curious yet a bit afraid to find out the answer.
“Gyu said they were one of those couples who were always so in-your-face about their relationship. Yeonjun wasn’t active on social media back then, but she was, and she was flaunting her relationship all over, showing off all the stuff he’d spoil her with and everything. Not only that, but they were one of those couples that, when going through a fight, the whole world would know about. According to Gyu, their relationship was dramatic and fiery and intense and so damn toxic, but Yeonjun was head over heels for her, which annoyed the guys to no end.”
“That sounds kind of awful.” B says, unable to imagine Yeonjun in such a relationship. “Kind of weird that the guys didn’t seem so supportive, either?”
Ryujin shakes her head. “That’s not even the worst of it. Apparently, she cheated on him with another rich kid she met while she was on vacation or something. Gyu says he hasn’t hated anyone as much as he hated Rose.”
“Now that sounds really awful.” B said, the information overload swirling around in her head. She couldn’t even imagine how awful this girl must’ve been for even Beomgyu and his friends to hate her so much. Why had Yeonjun fallen in love with such an awful person? And how could he have stayed in such a toxic relationship? And how could anyone cheat on him?
“I can’t say for sure since I personally don’t know her, Gyu just showed me a few of her pictures before, but he made her sound like the devil incarnate.” Ryujin says.
“Well, devil incarnate or not, Yeonjun’s definitely taken his standards to a different level with you.” Yuna says a bit comfortingly, squeezing B’s arm, trying to move away from the unpleasant topic. “And the best part is, I’m pretty sure all his friends love you already, so you won’t have to worry about that either. You and Yeonjun are solid.”
“Thanks, Yuna.” B says, smiling in relief. Then, remembering what Kai had told her about wanting to ask Yuna out, B giggles to herself.
“What was that for?” Yuna asks, noticing the sudden giggle.
Just then, the lunch bell rings, and B stands up instantly, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Nothing. Just excited about my new relationship, I guess.” And about your soon-to-be relationship with my best friend. she thinks to herself, before greeting the girls goodbye and leaving the room.
Due to Kai’s absence, she had to walk to the gazebo alone, growing accustomed to having him pick her up outside her classroom so they could walk to the gazebo together. Now that she was left alone with her thoughts, she was starting to feel overwhelmed about everything that had happened that morning, from being back in school to her meet up with Yeonjun to officially being his girlfriend to learning about his ex. Even though she had learned a lot from Ryujin, she had to admit that her curiosity was still taking over her thoughts, which she knew would probably do no good for her new relationship.
Still, she couldn’t help but wonder about Yeonjun’s past relationship, and worry about how similar it had sounded to her relationship with her one and only ex boyfriend.
As she approaches the gazebo, she sees that Yeonjun and the rest of the guys were already there, sitting at their usual places. Without Kai, she wasn’t sure where she should sit. She usually sat beside Soobin cause that’s where Kai would usually sit before welcoming her into the group, but now she wasn’t sure.
Before she started to worry too much about where to sit, the boys spotted her approaching the gazebo and started waving at her. She smiles and waves back, stepping into the gazebo.
“There you are! Ah, it feels good to see your face around here again.” Beomgyu says, welcoming her in. “And just in time, too. Yeonjun says he has an important announcement that he’d like to make.”
“That we’d like to make, actually.” Yeonjun says, offering B a hand as she steps in, and she takes his hand shyly, letting him guide her into the small space.
“Oh?” Taehyun says, eyeing the 2 with a bad feeling in his gut. “What announcement?”
B takes a deep breath suddenly feeling shy and nervous, her eyes on the ground. She was starting to feel worried about how their friends might react, and guilty about not telling them about the whole thing in the first place. She had grown very fond of the boys and felt very comfortable around them, their closeness making her feel safe, as if she belonged. She was afraid that being Yeonjun’s girlfriend would change the way they see her or the way they treat her.
Sensing her nerves, Yeonjun squeezes her hand, urging her to look at him instead. He offers her a small smile, which she nervously returns. He nods at her before turning his attention to the 3 boys seated. “First thing’s first, I just wanna say that I’m sorry we didn’t tell you guys about this sooner. We just agreed that it would be best to keep it between us until we were sure about how things would go.”
“Whatever it is, we understand.” Soobin says with a smile on his face yet with a sinking feeling in his stomach, his mind buzzing at Yeonjun’s choice of words.
We.
Taehyun looks at his president with worry, a part of him dreading whatever Yeonjun would say next yet already sensing what was coming.
Yeonjun smiles brightly, his heart fluttering as he looks at the girl by his side before slinging an arm over her shoulders and pulling her to his side. “Baby and I are together.”
As the words leave Yeonjun’s mouth, Soobin’s gaze instantly falls on B, wanting to see if it was true or if it was some sort of weird prank that Yeonjun was pulling. When he sees her smile shyly, attempting to bury her face in the blue haired boy’s chest, his heart sinks.
“We’re officially a couple.” she confirms, her face getting redder by the second as she looks up at Yeonjun, who he could tell was grinning behind his face mask.
Soobin didn’t know what felt worse, the fact that his best friend and the girl he just realized he was falling for were now a couple, or the fact that now he was falling in love with his best friend’s girlfriend. Seeing them together now—her with her flushed cheeks and her tight grip on Yeonjun’s necktie and him with his arm dropping down from her shoulders to her waist, securing her by his side—made Soobin feel a bit sick. But what made him feel even sicker was the fact that seeing them together was making him feel sick in the first place. His best friend had finally found an amazing girl 2 years after his horrendous break up and was now dating said amazing girl. He wanted nothing more than to feel happy, but the fact that he didn’t made him feel terrible.
Before Soobin’s guilt starts to consume him, Beomgyu suddenly claps, sending a jolt through everyone in the gazebo. “Wow, congratulations B and YJ!” he says, approaching the couple and happily slapping the older boy on his back. “You 2 look great together.”
“Thanks, Gyu.” B says shyly, her blush visible even through her face mask, one hand fisting Yeonjun’s necktie as he kept her close to him.
“Don’t mention it, I’m happy that this guy has finally moved on.” Beomgyu says teasingly. “And that he was able to score someone way out of his league.” he says, wiggling his brows at the pair.
“Shut up, BG.” Yeonjun says, playfully shoving Beomgyu away before they share a quick high five “You’re right though, I don’t know how I got so lucky.” he says, using his free hand to caress her hair.
“Shut up, both of you.” she says, flustered. She looks at Taehyun and Soobin anxiously, holding her breath as she waited for their reactions. So far, the two boys had either been staring at her and Yeonjun or at each other.
Finally, Taehyun stands up, approaching the couple. “B.” he simply says, which causes her heart to sink a little.
“Tyunie?” she asks, nervously waiting to know his verdict. She and Taehyun had formed a sort of special bond over their walks together, and his opinion was the one that she worried about the most. She wanted to apologize on the spot for not telling him about it sooner, and explain everything about the past couple of weeks to him to make him understand why she had chosen to keep her relationship with Yeonjun a secret. She didn’t know why, but she wanted Taehyun’s approval.
He smiles at her then, and she feels the weight lifted off her chest. “Congratulations.” he finally says, stepping towards her and hugging her, which she wholeheartedly returned. She lets out a sigh as he rubs her back, her chin tucked into his shoulder, before he pulls away. “I just broke a health protocol for you.” he suddenly says, horrified. He instantly steps away then and starts to vigorously spray his hands, arms and neck with alcohol, which causes B to burst out laughing.
“You did it cause you looove me.” she says teasingly. “And thanks, Tyun.” she says, glad that he approved, though she made a mental note to tell him about all the details later on. She felt like she owed him that much.
It’s quiet for a moment as Yeonjun’s gaze lands on Soobin, the only one in the group who hadn’t shown any reaction towards the news as he had just been staring back and forth between him and B the whole time.
For Yeonjun, it was Soobin’s opinion he valued the most. Soobin was one of the few people in the world that Yeonjun would trust with his life. He was the only one among his friends who supported his relationship with Rose, valuing Yeonjun’s happiness above his own when he was clearly unhappy about the whole incident.
He was the one who was there for Yeonjun when everything came crashing down, the one who helped Yeonjun pick himself back up after being cheated on by his first love, the one who helped save Yeonjun from the nights when he would drown himself in alcohol in the hopes of numbing the heartache, the one who would sneak into Yeonjun’s house in the middle of the night to make sure he was asleep safe and sound in his bed rather than hooking up with random girls and picking fights with random guys at the bar, the one who would talk Yeonjun into giving his father a chance and reason with him that his father only wanted what was best for his son, the one who encouraged Yeonjun to join the dance club and the jazzed club and the student council, the one who begged the faculty and advisers to give Yeonjun a second chance at finishing school at MOA promising that he would keep his friend in check, the one who would do anything to make Yeonjun smile, and the one who would always tell Yeonjun the truth.
He stares at Soobin until Soobin’s eyes finally meet his and he stands up, making his way towards the blue haired boy. Once they stood face to face, there’s a moment of silence before Soobin’s face melts into a warm smile, his dimples peeking out from under his mask, his eyes crinkling at the corners, which instantly puts a smile on Yeonjun’s face as well.
Yeonjun pulls him into a hug, relieved. “Congratulations, Yeonjun.” the taller boy says, patting his back a couple of times before pulling away. “I’m so happy for you.” he says.
“Thanks, Binnie.” Yeonjun says, patting him on the back as well. “This means a lot to me.”
Soobin nods at him before turning to B, and before he can say or do anything, she throws her arms out to him and pulls him in for a hug, her tiny body feeling especially fragile as her arms squeezed around his waist.
He looks down at B then, finding her in his arms for the second time that day, in almost the exact same way. Again, he feels time stop the moment his arms wrap themselves around her body, only this time she had her arms around his waist as well. Her face was buried in his chest, the top of her head inches away from his chin, the smell of her lavender-scented shampoo taking over his senses, his hands resting on the curves of her waist.
Only now it felt completely different.
When he hugged her this morning, it felt like everything in the world was falling into place, the feeling hitting him so suddenly with such clarity, as if time seemed to stop as he was hit with the realization that he was falling in love.
As he hugged her now, it felt like everything in the world was falling apart, the horrible feeling hitting him as he felt his heart sink deeper and deeper, as if time seemed to stop as he was hit with the reality that she was Yeonjun’s, that what he felt for her was wrong, that he could never let his feelings for her go past what they were now, that he probably shouldn’t even be hugging her anymore.
“Thanks, Soobinie.” she says in response to how he had congratulated Yeonjun.
“No problem, B.” he says, lifting a hand up to gently stroke her hair, taking a deep breath and taking in her lavender scent, savoring the warmth of her body against his one last time, telling himself he’d never hug her like this for as long as he could handle it. As he lays his chin gently at the top of her head, his eyes meet Taehyun’s, who was standing behind her, staring at him with a sad look in his eyes.
Soobin squeezes his eyes shut, prolonging the hug for a moment longer, before finally pulling away, looking directly at her eyes. She was glowing, her face flushed yet radiant, her smile so big that it was visible under her mask, she looked so so happy that it made his heart ache, knowing that the next few words he’d speak out loud would kill him yet knowing that he meant every bit of it.
“I’m happy for you.”
•°•
Author’s note:
Hello, thank you for reading! I’m trying to get more familiar with Tumblr, so if you have any suggestions or comments don’t be afraid to drop them! (PS I’m not even sure how to reply to comments, that’s how bad I am at using Tumblr lol but I promise that all replies are highly appreciated!!)
PS: Happy 1 year anniversary/birthday, MOA! <3
Also: STREAM DRAMA MV!
18 notes
·
View notes
Haven’t Forgotten My Way Home (14)-[CONVERTED]
Pairing: Kara Zor-El x Female!Reader
Summary: In the D/s society of National City, men and women abandoned by their Dom/mes or otherwise deemed unfit for life “outside” end up at the Mount Overland House for Orphaned Submissives. It is here that Kara Zor-El finds Y/N Hastings, broken and fearful from mistreatment at the hands of her former Dom. Can Kara coax Y/N back into the world that once so terrified her, and show her the true meaning of care and submission?
Warnings: Domestic Violence (Flashbacks, Mentions and Descriptions), Misogyny, Domination/Submission.
A/N: this doesn’t count as writing, bc i didn’t write it im just converting shshshs. plus im falling more and more in love with Kara each week. also, i’m redoing my masterlist since i changed my url and none of the links work so.
There were numbers for everything and everyone that Y/N Hastings could possible need, including three theaters, on her new phone.
There was also Angry Birds, which she was perfectly willing to blame for the fact that it took her an hour and a half to text Kara back after her “Good morning :)” message. It felt a little strange, when she realized it, that she didn’t feel panicked as she normally did when she took so long to do something. But that was probably because when she texted back a hello and an apology (blaming the game) for being delayed, all she got back was another smiley, and a cheerful “Hope you’re having fun!” What little uncertainty Y/N had vanished with that response, replaced with a warm feeling that maybe, just maybe, sometimes it was okay to do things on her own time.
But now, the game aside, Y/N sat staring at her contacts list, or, more importantly, at those three theater numbers. Her thumb settled over one, labeled National City Playhouse, and she pressed it, then the call button.
Two rings, then, “National City Playhouse?”
Y/N hung up.
She tried the next number. And hung up as soon as they answered.
Y/N sighed and got up from the couch in Nia’s living room, where she’d been lounging around, and began to pace the floor. Miss Kara had done so much for her, Y/N thought. She wanted to do something in return, and not only that but she wanted to see her again. It had been two days since she’d seen Miss Kara. She’d told Y/N she had to do some travelling for SETS, a seminar she needed to attend. And though Y/N knew Miss Kara had a job to do, it didn’t stop her from feeling a little lost in her absence. Y/N had spent the time watching television and going to her therapies at the House. She’d talk to Nia in the evenings when they had dinner, but as much as they shared in common, it still wasn’t the same as being with Miss Kara. Y/N had yet to venture back out into town, even though Nia had let it slip that they were running low on food supplies. That had made Y/N feel guilty, even as Nia had hastened to explain that she was just trying to help Y/N go out, not that she blamed her for anything.
The one bright spot had been last night’s phone call before bed; Kara had called her to let her know she’d be home the following day, finally. Y/N had lain in her bed with the cell phone pressed to her ear, smiling at Kara’s quiet questions. Had she been taking care of herself? Had she been eating enough? Was Nia being good to her? Did she talk anymore to Maggie? And then her gentle laughter when Y/N had turned the questions back on her. Both of them had reassured the other that yes, they were taking care of themselves… and yes, they missed each other.
So Y/N wanted to do something when Kara came back the next day, to show her that she had missed her, and that she was glad she’d come home. And she knew Kara loved the theater, so…
It was time for her to plan a date. But there would be no planning, and no date, if Y/N couldn’t even talk to a stranger on the other end of the line.
She stared once more at the phone, before selecting a number, and dialing.
“Hey, little Y/N, what’s up?” There was some shuffling, then Ask her if she’s okay in the background, and Y/N smiled. “You okay?”
“I’m all right, but I do need your help.”
“Ooh, if it’s help you need, I’m your girl. Toilet stopped up? Creepy attic needing exploring? Any assholes from a former life that maybe need tracking down and—“
“Maggie Sawyer-Danvers.”
That was Alex, and Y/N giggled.
“Sorry, Ma’am. Really though, Y/N, what’s up?”
“I need to know about theaters in National City.”
“… Ma’am? I think you better take this one.” She could hear Alex chuckling, then a sound as if Maggie’s phone was put on speaker. “I don’t know anything about the theaters except Ma’am and I went with Kara a couple times, like I told you. I never pay attention to what’s showing; I just know that we have to get front row seats because Kara gets cranky if someone tall sits in front of her.”
“She could always sit on my lap if that happens.” The words were out before she could even think, and Y/N clamped her mouth shut. Stupid, she told herself. Stupid, stupid, she’s not even your Mistress.
There was a pause, and then Alex’s voice came over the phone, dry and amused. “She could indeed. Y/N, why the sudden interest in theaters? She didn’t put numbers in your phone, did she?”
“Yes?”
“Ah, as she did when she picked up mine one day. Sneaky girl, our Kara.”
Y/N turned pink at “our,” and said quickly, “I want to take her on a date. To the theater. But I.. I don’t…” She trailed off.
How did you tell a Dominant – a female Dominant – that you didn’t know how to do something? Those words had never been good for her; they’d never gotten her anything more but a slap and a disgusted “Well you’d better learn.” But there wasn’t really any way for her to learn; Sir didn’t allow her on the internet and it wasn’t like she could call up her mother and father to ask them. That would have been awkward enough if all contact with them hadn’t been virtually cut off the minute she turned sixteen.
Russell and Judy Hastings had also been an arranged claim. Their pairing, however, had been a little later than Y/N’s; Russell Hastings had wanted to establish himself in the business world first, as his father had done before him, and so he finally claimed Judy when he was twenty-three. By all accounts theirs was a good match, at least in public. Judy was classy and graceful; Russell stern and proud, always ready with a smile and a glass in his hand. When Y/N was born, she was paraded in the parties and in town as the product of how “old society” worked, and was better. She was the perfect example of arranged claims done right.
But away from the parties, Y/N had grown up as a shy little girl in the stifling air of the Hastings household. Her father was loving and firm with his submissive when they were out of the public eye, but in the privacy of their home, he was indifferent at best, and cold at the worst. Judy drowned her sorrows in the alcohol that her husband kept readily available for his clients, and Y/N was fairly certain her mother suffered for that transgression once the bedroom doors were closed. But in the mornings her mother would put on a brave face, even as she moved a little stiffly, and told Y/N how wonderful it would be when she was in the arms of her own Sir.
Y/N had doubted it, and now, she knew her instincts had been right.
James had gradually taken away her contact with her parents; she had initially called them once every few days to catch up, though her father would immediately hand the phone to her mother after a few cursory pleasantries, and her mother always seemed to be in a hurry to fix dinner, or get to a social gathering, or anything that would let her hang up the phone as quickly as possible. But Y/N needed to call, needed that last tenuous hold on the life she’d left behind, even if it had been less than ideal. James, however, seemed to have different ideas, and every weekend or holiday she was to spend with her parents, something always came up and she was to remain at home. Finally, the opportunities to see them had just faded away… and her parents never made the effort.
The last time she tried to call was that night.
“You don’t know how to set it up.”
Y/N turned her attention back to Alex, whose voice was soft and understanding. She nodded, and then rolled her eyes. She wouldn’t be able to see that.
“Yes. I mean no, no, I don’t. Can you… help me?”
She felt the panic rising up within her, and Y/N clenched her hand, not holding the phone, against the heat that began to course down her upper arms, the signal that she knew all too well. Her jaw was tight and she clutched hard to the phone with her other hand, waiting for what she knew would inevitably come. Because it always came: derision, laughter, irritation, anger.
“Of course I can help you.”
Y/N blinked. Well, that was unexpected. “You can?” she said, wanting to be sure. Maybe it was a trick, some kind of trap designed to lure her into a false sense of security.
“As I said, of course I can. Why don’t you and I meet somewhere and we can discuss options?”
And there it was. The snare, the net, the cage. Maybe she was one of those Dominants that wanted another pet; Si- James had often hinted that he wanted another, someone who was “easier to live with.” Then again, he’d also told Y/N that she could be replaced. She felt that familiar dread within her, that waking moment when she’d lay in bed and wonder was this it, the day she’d be out on the street with nothing and no one to protect her?
It was strange, Y/N thought briefly, as she began to stutter out her objections, that in the end, she had walked into the street with nothing, and no one to protect her.
“N-no, that’s all right, I’ll figure it out, I-I’ll just call and ask and m-maybe the theater people will—“
“Hey, little Y/N,” Maggie interrupted. “Do you like ice cream?”
Y/N furrowed her brow. “Yes?”
“Cool, so do I. And Ma’am promised I could have ice cream after I finally learned that Fiddler On the Roof isn’t a metal album. Hey, maybe I do know something about musicals. Anyway, why don’t we go get some ice cream? You, me, Ma’am? In the park? Public place, and we can talk about these big plans you have to sweep Kara off her feet.”
“I don’t know…” Y/N said slowly.
“It’s a public park, Y/N,” Alex responded gently. “There are usually quite a lot of people around this time of day, and I assure you that neither Maggie nor I will keep you from going home if you want to. Also ice cream cones.”
“Ice cream is good,” Y/N found herself giggling. She took a deep breath. Could she trust her? She’d been with Maggie and that was nice, but… Maggie was submissive too. She could probably do whatever she wanted to Y/N just as easily as Alex, but…
“What time do you want to meet?”
The taxi this time was easier, especially since Y/N remembered to pay the driver, and accept her change back. That didn’t extend to her actually conversing with him on the ride over to the park; he’d given up after the first five questions were met with just a stare. She probably was being rude to him, Y/N knew, but she didn’t know him, and he wasn’t Miss Kara, so she wasn’t obligated to answer him.
It was strange, being out and about in National City. Y/N had grown up here, had spent her entire life here, and yet she didn’t even know the city. She looked around the park; not seeing Alex or Maggie yet, she sat on a bench nearest the pond, feeling a little nervous. She smiled at the children who darted this way and that, playing ball and yelling back and forth to each other. What would their lives be like in a few years, she wondered. Would they be bent and broken, as she was, or would they stand straight and (fairly, if she was wearing heels) tall like Miss Kara? Their parents, those were the ones that gave Y/N the most pause. It was interesting that she couldn’t really pick up on who was in their respective roles: the man who ran his fingers through the woman’s hair as she rested her head on his lap, reading from a book; the woman who gripped another’s hand tightly as they walked along the periphery of the pond, both of them smiling warmly at Y/N as they passed. She returned the smile, only to have it fade as a man passed by her with a curt nod. She shivered a little.
It had taken her a couple of days to stop looking over her shoulder. The day she’d been brought to the House, after the hospital had released her, two people employed by the council had come to see her. They’d sat as Kara had, trying to ask her questions, trying to force her to answer, thinking if they spoke louder the answers would come. They hadn’t, and when Nia had seen Y/N’s arms wrapped around herself, the girl shaking violently in her chair, she’d sent them away. They meant well, Y/N knew, in spite of everything, but she thought they’d have sent her back to Him. After that, every new person who had come into the House she was convinced had been sent by Him. Every time the phone rang, she was sure it was Him, calling to have her brought home.
It had taken days for her to realize that she wasn’t going back. And even longer for her to realize that he was no longer Him. Every time she had thought of him in the past, each day that she rose and slept again under the rules that he had established, every detail that she had gotten wrong no matter how hard she tried, every blow of the whip that he kept stowed in a trunk in the bedroom, he had always been mentally capitalized, the God of His home and of her life. He was Sir and she was… words that stuck in her throat and hurt her chest. He was Lord and Master and she was little, and only now with Kara’s quiet “little one” uttered with affection, or Maggie’s “little Y/N” offered with a smirk and a wink, was Y/N realizing that that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. He was him, and she… she was Y/N.
She heard her name, then, and she glanced up to see Maggie headed her way with Alex following beside. She flexed her fingers in and out, and jumped a little when her phone vibrated, signifying a text. She quickly opened it.
I bought you a present! I can’t wait to give it to you!
It made her feel a little guilty, amid the excitement of a present from Miss Kara. She’d already given Y/N so much… but the date, Y/N thought as she stood up to greet Maggie. The date would be her way of saying thank you.
“Hey, Y/N,” Maggie said easily. She grinned and nudged her a little. “Look at you, no chair. That’s awesome.”
Y/N blushed a little. “I-I still can’t walk for long periods of time, I might have to sit down…”
“Then sit down we will,” Alex said with a smile. “You look positively radiant, Y/N. Please wear green all the time, it ma—“
“Matches my eyes, I know,” Y/N said, and then froze. Oh no, she’d interrupted her. Would he be angry? Please don’t yell at me, she thought, as she added hastily, “Miss Kara said that, she picked out a lot of green things for me to choose from while we were shopping…”
If it was possible, Alex’s smile only grew wider as she surveyed Y/N in her light green dress, the small hair clip holding back one side of her hair. “It’s good to see that Kara has taste in clothes, or, well, someone else’s, at least.” She must’ve seen Y/N’s eyes flash because he laughed, throwing his head back. “I’m teasing, I promise. Kara’s style is unique, and completely her own.”
“I’m still not sure that’s a compliment,” Y/N muttered, but she was so relieved that Alex wasn’t angry at her that she decided to let it go.
“Shall we walk?” Alex said, offering her arm to Y/N, Maggie taking her place on her other side. When she started to walk without accepting it, she pulled some brochures out of his back pocket without missing a beat. “I brought the brochures for the theaters that you have in your phone; it has lists of everything that’s playing this year. We should be able to decide on what Kara would most like to see, using these.”
Y/N nodded. “Thank you. So you think she’d… she’d like to go to the theater with me?”
Alex looked at her; once again her eyes were kind. “My dear Y/N, I think Kara would be over the moon just to stand in the same room as you.”
“You’re such a sap, Ma’am,” Maggie groaned. “Let me translate for you, Y/N: she’ll love it. Not because it’s the theater, but because it’s the theater with you.”
“Now who’s the sap?” Alex said, sticking her tongue out at her sub. “I’ve rubbed off on you.”
“Oh, I’d like you t—“
“So, those brochures?” Y/N held out her hand, and Alex gave them to her with a wink. It didn’t unsettle her as much as it should have; she wasn’t worried about what people would think as she walked through the park flanked by two women. If anything, it gave her even more protection; even in a progressive society like National City, women were treated with far more deference than men, and so most people wouldn’t have thought twice about Y/N walking with Maggie and Alex. And besides, there was always that casual, exciting dance of the unclaimed waiting to be claimed, a world of first glances and smiles, first kisses and first dates. All leading up to that blissful moment of knowing someone was yours, and you were theirs. No doubt if anyone did look twice at Y/N, they’d think her extremely lucky, to either have two subs, or be one of two.
“I don’t… know what all of these are,” Y/N confessed quietly, staring down at the lists of show names she held in her hands. “I don’t know if Miss Kara would like any of them…”
“As I said, I think she’ll be quite happy with anything you choose, simply because you are the one who did the choosing. But might I make a suggestion?” Alex asked.
Y/N nodded, and Alex pointed to one of the names in the brochure.
“Wicked?” She’d heard of it, Y/N thought, a long time ago when she was still at home. Something about it being the new big thing. Maybe it had been on the news that she’d watched while keeping an eye on Judy, passed out drunk on the sofa.
“One of Kara’s favorites. It’s a pity Funny Girl isn’t on tour at the moment, but perhaps one day you two can go to New York and see it. Wicked is a good introduction to the world of musicals, and something Kara knows far too much about, and she’ll be only too willing to share every single tiny detail with you until you are absolutely bored with it.”
“I don’t think I could ever be bored listening to her talk,” Y/N said softly, her head reeling. Wicked… Funny Girl… New York? Would she ever get to go to New York… one day? And with Miss Kara? Alex seemed to think so. Y/N blinked, realizing she had been staring at her with wide eyes.
“Now all that’s needed is for you to call,” Alex pointed out. Her smile to her was confident, reassuring.
Y/N paused for a moment, then pulled out her phone and dialed.
“National City Playhouse?”
She took a deep breath. “I’d like to reserve two tickets for a show, please.” She didn’t have a credit card, but Alex waved his at her, nodding when she promised to pay him back.
Minutes later she hung up the phone, giggling a little when Alex and Maggie whooped in triumph, clapping their hands. She’d done it. She’d just set up a date for herself and Miss Kara. It made her stand up a little straighter, walk a little better. She couldn’t wait until Miss Kara found out what she’d done.
“Maggie,” Alex said suddenly, leaning slightly across her to address her submissive. “Are you feeling well, pet? You’ve completely let us forget about the ice cream.”
“I didn’t forget, Ma’am,” Maggie said with a shrug. “But it seemed like working out the musicals thing for Kara and Y/N was more important.”
“Hmm,” Alex hummed. “I might just have to take your temperature when we get home.” Y/N saw Maggie roll her eyes; luckily Alex grinned. “Why don’t you go get ice cream for us while Y/N and I talk?” Y/N tensed, wanting to grab onto Maggie, but she was already moving away.
“What kind of ice cream do you want, Y/N?” he asked.
“I-I… vanilla,” Y/N said, and Maggie quirked an eyebrow as she walked off, backwards.
“Huh, nobody around here really likes vanilla. But okay, back in a second, Ma’am!”
She turned around, and Y/N was left alone with Maggie’s dominant. Her hands shook a little.
Alex regarded her carefully. “Public park, Y/N,” she reminded her, but there was no trace of anger or frustration in her voice. “We’re just two friends, two good friends – two best friends, you’ll get that after you see the show – who are walking and talking. That’s all, and you’re free to go whenever you like.”
Y/N hesitated, still watching after Maggie, before nodding. “All right.”
They walked in silence for a few minutes before Y/N felt herself growing tired. She’d been on her feet since Maggie and Alex had arrived, and now she was feeling the strain. “I think I need to sit down…”
“Of course.” Alex led her back over to the bench she’d sat on earlier, and then sat down beside her. She was quiet, and then said, “Kara seems to be quite taken with you.”
Y/N smiled a little. “I’m… quite taken with Miss Kara.”
“I believe one can see that easily by the way your eyes light up when you say her name,” Alex said with a smile, but her next words were serious. “I worry about Kara.”
“W-worry? Why?”
“Kara is a very strong person,” Alex said, looking as if she was choosing her words as wisely as she could. “She’s had to be, with her father’s illness, and her biological mother toying with her feelings the way she did. But she’s also very susceptible to hurt and becoming overwhelmed with her emotions. Luckily she had Lena to help with—oh but you don’t know about Lena…” Alex stopped, looking suddenly annoyed with herself.
“I do, actually,” Y/N said. “Miss Kara told me about her. That Lena trained her, and that they were… lovers.”
“Were,” Alex reiterated, relief on her face that she hadn’t told Kara’s secret. “But yes, Lena helped her with that, but sometimes Kara still wants everything too much and she’s easily… hurt. I don’t want to see that happen to her.”
“I-I don’t want that to happen either.” There was a sick feeling in the pit of Y/N’s stomach. Was she going to take Kara away from her? Forbid Kara to see her, or forbid her to see Kara? She wouldn’t let her do that, Y/N suddenly decided. She wasn’t going to tell her that she couldn’t see her Miss Kara.
Her Miss Kara…
“I’d do anything to keep from hurting her.”
“I don’t want to see you hurt either,” Alex said, and Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Not that I think Kara would consciously hurt you, but you’ve been through so much, Y/N. Things that no one ever deserves to go through, and if I could find him right now and punch him without messing up my hair I would.” Y/N snorted in spite of herself, and Alex grinned at her.
“Both of you deserve much happiness, and if it’s meant to be the two of you together, then it’s meant to be. But Y/N, please be careful, for Kara’s sake and yours. You’re only just discovering what you want, and there’s so much of the world for you and Kara to find separately and together before you jump into something that has the potential to hurt you both.”
Y/N nodded slowly. “I-I know,” she said.
“And listen; if you two do end up together please… tell her argyle gives you headaches. Or that you’re allergic to bows. Something. Anything. I’m begging you.”
She couldn’t help but laugh then, and Alex joined her, as Maggie came up with the ice creams and a confused look. She felt easy, light, as they sat together on a bench at a public park in National City, listening to the birds and enjoying ice cream cones.
She felt free.
And she couldn’t wait for Miss Kara to come home.
99 notes
·
View notes
💧∗ˈ‧₊°∗ˈ‧₊°∗ˈ‧₊°∗ˈ‧₊°basically i just had a shitty christmas and after that just started screaming n fighting w my mom and i just want to cry so much, this life is shit i just want sum comforting otp, tag urself im draco
(also this is a muggle!au)
Story
Silver, blue, on then off… The hanging lights were flickering all over, illuminating the dirty streets with artificial illumination, blinding the moonlight and hibernal constellations. It wasn't snowing anymore, and all of its reminiscent beauty washed away with dirt and stomped away by happy bystander. The air could have been colder, but what made Draco shiver was the contrast between the eerie feeling lingering in the street and the stinging feeling over his cheek. Twisting butterbeer candy in his mouth, its sweet aroma melted along with the bitter taste of blood. It stung a little, but the endearing feeling of alcohol started to take over. Wandering aimlessly, he was focusing his thoughts hard on the christmas song's lyrics resonating all over the town. Otherwise, the dark thoughts he was trying to shut in would start to yell again.
He inhaled -breath shaky- once again, trying to regain consciousness of his surrounding. He couldn't just cry in the street like that, he was pathetic yes but ain't nobody gonna see it. He sighed as a sad grin slightly made its way on his face, finding a place to cry safely was a middle school thing to do but here he was at 20. He let his gaze wander on all the dolled up shop front, displaying all kinds of present ideas. He hadn't even had time to open half of his presents before running away. They might all have been shitty anyway. Except his mother's… Not to be cheesy, but she was the one who really knew him in that big house, no matter how many people inhabited it.
Since when the family house became so full yet so cold and empty ? Maybe at the blurred line where childhood disappeared …
Draco rubbed his humid noise, he was definitely not going to cry in public, for god sake. Leaving the nice display for romantic couples, he walked off. There was only one place where a forsaken college kid could cry his pitiful life and that was college itself. And if luck was on his side, he had the shittiest family life and everybody else went back home.
Luck showed to not be on his side, Draco discovered with bitter annoyance as he was trying to sneak some snacks from the cafeteria. And it seemed Potter (the worst one Draco could fall into) had the same thoughts. His nemesis since middle school, the one person he personally made sure to say « happy christmas loser» before leaving because he knew christmas was Potter’s least favorite holiday.
Homeboy must have had the whole day to make a sweet stock but no, midnight snacking was better, of course. How original Potter.
"Come on Potter, don’t tell me you don’t hide food in that mess of a room you have", Draco put his arms around the amount of baked good and drinks he had stocked. " 'Cause I wont let you have any of these, you had the whole day, too bad."
"What are you doing here ? I thought you went back." Potter raised an eyebrow.
"Well you know, ehe, maybe I'm Santa and haven't given you your gift yet ?", he gave him droopy smile, trying to suppress wiggles alcohol induced. "Maybe, you’re Santa.
"A- Are you drunk ?"
"That would be insulting my alcohol tolerance considering I only had candy, but I guess a man can get drunk over his spleen. Oh, and like, a few bottle, aha.."
"You're definitely drunk.", Potter sighed. "Get some water and go to sleep Malfoy."
"But I'm hungryy."
"You're only going to regret it afterwards, now come on, give it-" Potter got awfully closer, and Draco felt an itching feeling under his skin.
"Let a man drink and get shitfaced Potter, jeez, I don't remember stopping you having fun at your last scoot boys party." Draco groaned.
"You're not having fun, " Potter sighed and he came so close Draco could feel his breath over.
"Why you caring about that." Draco tried to defy Potter's deep glare, but booze only confused him into the lulling gaze of green eyes.
As Potter groaned for answer, he grabbed his plate. Draco didn't put up any resistance as he didn't trust his body so close to Potter's. He might accidentally hit his face, and he didn't feel confident over a 1v1 against Potter right now.
"You don't smell like alcohol, you smell… good.", Draco muttered, as his eyes were half shutting over Potter’s collarbones. "What have you been up to Potty, you really don't know how to party, you only grunt and sigh."
Draco didn't know whether it was willingly or without realizing, but he leaned against Potter's strong frame more than necessary. The sweet feeling of being supported, not having to fight… If only Potter could close his arms around him.
"Malfoy I swear you should go now.", Potter's arms tried to shift him, but Draco felt his own arms envelope Potter's nice smelling neck on their own accord.
"Oh come on, I had a shitty christmas and a shitty evening, let me have that.", he whined slightly, tugging closer.
He could feel Potter’s breath stopped for an instant, and Draco didn’t know what to make of it. Maybe Potter would kick him for good now, pathetic or no they never indulged in anything soft or warm ; they challenged each other and threw word with deep rooted meaning, but never anything so clear and explicit.
But when Draco went to unlace himself from this awkward situation, he felt Potter’s strong arms not letting him.
"I don’t even know why i’m doing this, you’re heavy. " Potter complained as he was carrying Draco on his back.
"I’m not, not with those fit arms of yours ", Draco rumbled against Potter’s nice smelling jumper.
"... I should record you," Harry muttered, the back of his neck feeling hotter.
" I’d deny everything, the things you can do with technology these day.."
Draco could feel Potter’s muscles moving slightly over a soft chuckle. He pushed his face further into the nice perfume.
"... Hey take me to your room."
"W-what ?!", they nearly fell as Potter lost his balance.
"Calm your tits Potter, jee-"
"Why’d you want to go into my room anyway ??"
Because it might smell as nice as you..., Because it’s your room..., Because, there, it’d just be full of you and nothing would remind me of anything at home..., Because I don’t want to think about home right now...
"Because I know you have a hidden stack of snacks in there..."
"Malfoy."
Draco couldn’t feel Potter’s gaze on him but his tone conveyed enough to make Draco’s throat clench.
"I won’t steal anything, it’s just... there’s nothing that’ll remind me of home there... Just... I... "
Draco never finished his phrase and soft silence fell upon them for the rest of the way. He tried to no think too deep about tonight’s evolution, but even cloudy thoughts weren’t enough.
"We’re here", and as soon as he opened the door, Potter let Draco fall hardly on the floor. Not bothering to listen to his insulting fuss, he went to throw a cushion his way. "There’s a futon over there, the floor is yours."
"You’re the worst host ever, even dogs are treated better." Draco pouted.
"And you’re a handful guest and drunk", Potter said as he let a blanket fall over Draco’s head.
The ground was cold, he could feel it over the futon and the fall had made his heart sad. Draco remembered the comfy over-stuffed bed he left at home and how he should’ve been sleeping there comfily instead of making a fool of himself in front of the only boy that mattered.
"Well if I could have avoided drinking to drown my sorrow trust me i would.", he sniffed, already sobering up. "I’m so going to throw up all over your carpet."
All sound of moving and shifting stopped for a while. Then Potter peeked his face under the blanket, facing Draco’s.
"... Are you crying ?"
"... Next I’m gonna pee and then you’ll have all my body fluids over your carpet." Draco said with a small voice and he wanted to punch himself. Embarrassed him really had the worst retorts.
"You’re disgusting." Potter said, but he brought his nice smelling sleeve over Draco’s nose and whipped the dampness. Draco sniffed again.
"I’m not crying."
"You’ll deny it for the record I know."
For some reason, Potter lingered his touch over Draco’s face, wandering his hands over his cheeks, lightly wiping tears traces. Draco couldn’t see Potter’s face clearly due to the lack of lamps turned on. The room only escaping darkness for dim moonlight and Draco hoped Potter couldn’t see his face clearly either.
"Why did you come back ?"
"Because I’m the family disappointment and I have no weird cousin to dim that off."
Trying to use depreciative humor didn’t seem to get to Potter, maybe because he couldn’t see Draco’s face laughing it off. He had gotten quite good over the years.
"How could you be the family disappointment. You got the best grade and remarks, you’re basically every rich parents dream kid."
"Yeah that’s what I thought too, right ?... I thought that I would go back home and be congratulated or something, I mean I did get some of the best rank right ? But what are best rank when your friends are not ‘good company’ huh ? And when your clothes doesn’t reflect your seriousness enough, I mean who would hire me in these right ? Not like I came home to have dinner not an interview. Oh and sit straight will you, I taught you better, don’t embarrass me. We have guests Draco, is that really how you want to represent the Malfoy name ? And-"
"Breath a bit."
Potter’s voice was calm and strangely soothing. Draco hadn’t felt his blood pumping so hard until Potter made his heart stretch.
"The thing is... I do everything right but it’s never right enough. My father keeps talking about me like I’m just a display for the family name. I cant even think of doing other things that my whole life is already being pushed down my throat ! I don’t even know if I really want to do what I do ? Maybe I just convinced myself that’s what I want to do ? What if I understand I’m ruining my life when they’re already old and senile and I can’t make them pay for it huh ? Is it my fault they only fucked once and now they only have one shot for their brand of whatever ? Is it so hard to let me live as just ... someone ? Am I not enough just being my own ? "
Potter´s hand was still on his cheek and as everything fell into silence again, Draco felt overly conscious of their proximity. Heart clenching, he tried to not dwell on the words he just said, looking for some other depreciative humor ; he hadn’t plan to open to Potter. They never did this.
"Did you tell them that ?"
"I-", Draco let his lips hang open, slightly taken aback by Potter’s empathy and what felt like concern in his tone. "I did but... I feel like they never listen to what I say, I’ve been saying the same things for years. They say they’re scared for my future and just wants what’s best, but the truth is that they just don’t trust me and now I don’t trust myself either when I shouldn’t. " he bit his mouth over the bitter feeling.
"... I think you’re doing good."
"What do you know..." Draco sniffed, he could feel uneasiness coming from Potter and honestly he felt already bad enough from spilling his gut here he didn’t want some colored sappy moral or whatever. "If you’re going to tell me some sappy shit-"
"No I mean," Potter put his hands over Draco’s wrist so that he wouldn’t go away. And even in the darkness, Draco could feel his gaze’s intensity on him. "You look like, you’re... you just seem like you’ve got everything figured it out, like everything’s gonna work out for you in the end and... even if you feel like you want to change when you’re old, you’re the kind of person that’ll find something else and be great at it."
Draco could feel Potter’s pulse stirring over his touch and he didn’t know what to make of it.
"...You suck at sappy-inspirational speech, let me tell you."
"I mean... fuck if your parent don’t see it, you’re always doing your best and trying hard and giving it your all and... Whatever you decide to do with it you’re gonna be great at it... Even if you don’t really know what you want to do now, it’s ok, I mean... nobody does... know what they’re doing really. You don’t really need to know right away, you can... just keep doing for now until you know better..."
Although Potter seemed very thoughtful about what he said, Draco couldn’t help the awkward chuckle that escaped his lips.
"Hey, I’m serious you know !", even over his voice, Draco could hear Potter blush over embarrassment.
"I know this is why it’s weird !" Draco tried to untie his wrist from Potter’s grasp.
"Would you have wanted me to mock you or something !"
"N-no but now I’m confused ! If you’d mocked me I would have punched you and it would have been fine but now I don’t know what to do !"
"Then don’t reject me for once !"
Over their bickering, the blanket felt from over them but Potter didn’t let go of Draco’s wrist.
"You think I’m great ?"
"I’ll deny it for the record." he muttered and Draco could see him averting his beautiful eyes.
"Say it again."
When Potter’s eyes moved on Draco’s again, they held a burning purpose, and he couldn’t avoid his gaze if he wanted to. Potter’s beautiful eyes had him holding his breath but not wavering, even when he felt Potter’s breath over his lips.
He didn’t wonder who got over the last cm as their lips touched each other very softly, barely even, feeling unreal.
"Can I ?" Potter’s murmur ghosted over Draco’s lips.
On impulse, Draco wrapped his arms over Potter and squeezed very tightly. He had been so close all evening and all his life, and he couldn’t contain his feelings any more second. All the places in contact with Potter felt like they were burning the sensation into his skin, so that he would never forget what he’d been longing for so long. And as the kiss deepened, hands caressing softly through hair and clothes, Draco finally finally felt belonging.
As a ray of pale sun made its way on his face, Draco awoke feeling bundled in an infinite source of warmth and safety. He could barely move but he didn’t want to. Ever.
He might have fallen asleep again a few times before he felt some shifting around him.
The moment he turned around, he came nose bopping with Potter’s ; who opened beautiful green eyes and gave soft and embarrassed smile that Draco returned. He felt on cloud nine and the soft embrace he was in, not disappearing as they woke up, was the best part.
"Happy Christmas," Potter whispers against his lips.
“It’s happy now...”, Draco kisses him softly and they might just spend the rest of the day that way.
48 notes
·
View notes
share you self care tag
thank you for tagging me @purnotas!!! 💖
favourite comfort food: im not sure i have one! i usually just grab whatever we have around the house lol
favourite alcohol (or hot drink): i don’t drink enough to have a favourite type and i actually don’t like hot drinks dfkjhlkjd i don’t drink coffee or tea or anything; i mainly stick to water, juice, and smoothies 😂 sometimes i’ll make hot chocolate homemade with almond milk, cinnamon, cocoa etc.
favourite relaxing activity: i like clearing out my likes on here jdfhlghk it feels like spring cleaning haha or if there’s a newspaper around i’ll do blackout poetry bc it’s a nice break from being on my computer or phone. i like crossword puzzles too fdkjlkjdh
favourite fluffy/feel-good fic: this is hard!!!! i love so many uuuuhh one that i adore bc it’s a crossover between theory of love and 2gether is called drown your sorrows and it isn’t necessarily ‘feel good’ but i LOVE the concept lmao one i think might actually be considered feel good is the simplest way forward for wangxian and it’s got EVERYTHING--fake dating, no one is dead, baby lan sizhui--i love it sm.
favourite calming scent: ‘mint and eucalyptus’ !!!
favorite relaxing or uplifting song: right now im OBSESSED with พัก by desktop error like..........when those guitars come in.........AIGHT. like to me that song is what would play in my indie film cross country road trip w the loml fdhlhkfdj
favourite white noise: idk honestly probably very soft intrumentals bc i dont like background noise like running water or anything. i tend to prefer silence or instrumentals if im trying to focus bc otherwise i’ll sing along to the music and won’t be able to type kjdfhgkjd right now thru my window i can hear cars on the road and the sound of lawn mowers which i like too (bc im not doing anything where i need to be focused) and w the sunshine it feels so summery and nice
favorite book to get lost in: i havent read a book i can get lost in in a while sadly. i have a book of poems by walk whitman and i like that a lot tho
favorite chill-out tv show: meet the goldbergs is really funny. anything like that where it’s mainly comedy so like parks and rec, the office, b99, superstore. things like that are nice if i dont want to use too many braincells bc i already know the characters and basic plotlines
the best advice you’ve ever had: probably just taking every day as it comes. like it’s important to think about the future but you have to careful that you aren’t thinking so much about the future that you’re living in it instead of the present. and the other side of that, accepting the past and things that have happened bc they can’t be changed so the only choice is to keep going forward. just keep swimming 🐟
@bbrightwin, @wifiwwx, @gaysarawat, @0ffgun all of whom have most likely already been tagged lol thank you :)) and as always, consider yourself tagged if you see this and want to do it!!
6 notes
·
View notes
Atsui Springs- Part 4
|| Fan fic part 4/5?
Synopsis: After discovering his two best friends doing the dirty on his own bed, Genesis’ world is turned upside down. Now, the two of them have a lover’s getaway planned at Atsui, an elite resort famed for their hot springs. But not everything appears at it seems. And Genesis inexplicably finds himself crashing the getaway but discovering a truth hidden right beneath his nose. Featured ships: My guilty pleasure, OT3.
NSFW: Yes, but not in this part
Word Count: 2361
Part 1: Uninvited Guest
Part 2: Awe
Part 3: Unraveling
Part 4: Crimson Flower
“Genesis… lets… play a game.” Sephiroth said, a near purr at his throat.
Curious, the redhead reached for one of the small dishes, bringing the liquid to his nose to smell. Strangely enough, it did not smell remotely alcoholic. “Oh? You think you can beat me at something?”
“Yes.” Sephiroth smirked. “Its SOLDIER grade, you know. The stuff would probably kill a civilian.” He gestured to the sake cups. “…So?”
At some point, Angeal had settled next to Genesis, quietly eyeing the exchange. While no antagonistic fires had been stoked yet, the man was intuitively on guard.
Genesis smiled sweetly in return. “Hmmm… The mighty Sephiroth turned hapless drunk.” Amused by the imagery, the redhead continued, “Fine. You joining, Angeal?” He swayed his head to look over at the quiet figure who blinked a couple of times before laughing nervously.
“G.. genesis… I do not think that is… a good idea.” Angeal trailed off.
“Oh, come on. I promise I won’t tell Sephiroth the time you tried to escort the stop sign across the stree-” Suddenly, Angeal’s hand was clasped around the redhead’s mouth. Genesis flashed an amused look towards Angeal before tapping his arm in submission. Only then was he released, but the redhead could not help but laugh a bit.
“It will be fun,” Genesis said, although, a part of him understood. Already, the tensions were high. Alcohol had a way of letting loose what was already difficult to contain. But the redhead could find no alternative. His thoughts were contained only to the present moment. Thinking beyond that was more than his emotionally exhausted brain could handle.
He needed something, anything to focus on. It did not matter what it was—it just has to be engaging. It had to be something mindless… It had to be something non-committal. Something to relieve his pains, even if the short-term act was the source of long-term sorrow. How… achingly familiar. It was funny, though. He could still feel Angeal’s warmth against his face. It oozed through his raw nerves, covering it like honey. Only, unlike other touches… It left him feeling… happy, even when it was gone.
Genesis smiled to himself. He was doomed.
“Rules are simple. We will take turns asking the other to select a truth they wish to reveal or a dare they will perform. The asker will define the conditions whereas the asked can opt to execute the conditions or… take a drink.” Sephiroth explained clinically, despite the growing smile on his face.
Laughter erupted from Genesis, frame hunching over as he gasped for air. “I… I… You mean we are playing Truth or Dare, right? Or did you come up with that one all by yourself.”
Frowning, Sephiroth crossed his arms. “If you are so keen, you go first. Ask.” A faint tinge of red dusted his cheeks.
“With pleasure. Angeal… Truth or dare?” Genesis hummed excitedly, the wheels of his mind visibly churning.
Uneasily, Angeal looked at Genesis, seemingly at a loss of what he could do. Gradually, he came to say, “…Dare.”
Smirking widely, resting his forearm against Angeal’s shoulder and leaning in, Genesis did not lose a second before he delivered the ‘condition’. “I dare you to come with me to peek into the lady’s bath--”
The response was immediate. Angeal grabbed the sake cup and downed it in a quick flick of his head. “Oh…”
It was too easy. And Genesis could not help but to snicker, covering his mouth loosely with his fingers. “Oh?”
“… You can’t taste the alcohol.” Angeal deadpanned, eye twitching as Sephiroth smoothly refilled the cup, eyes glittering in delight.
Curious, Genesis took his own cup again and took a tentative sip. It was subtly sweet, a hint of citrus and something herbal he could not place. But, true to Angeal’s words, the alcohol was either cleverly masked, or not present at all.
“Hmm… ~” Genesis smiled. “Your turn.”
Clearing his throat, Angeal focused his attention to Sephiroth. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
“Um… What… is in this alcohol?” Angeal asked, licking his lips.
Tilting his head, Sephiroth gave an amused smirk. “Is that your question?”
Blinking, Angeal gave a sheepish shrug.
And to both Angeal and Genesis’ surprise, Sephiroth continued smiling as he reached for his own cup and slowly swallowed it down.
“Genesis,” he said, pausing a moment before refilling his cup. “Truth or dare.”
Leaning over the table, Genesis rested his elbow against the surface, his chin perched on his palm as he intently fixated his gaze on the man in front of him. Indeed, he never did know what to expect of the man. Was it on purpose? What sort of secret could he be hiding? Or, perhaps, it was merely that he wanted to drink.
“Truth. I’ll chug the whole thing if I can’t answer.” Genesis challenged, leering at Sephiroth. There was nothing that Genesis could not lie about. And if he could stir some friendly competition, perhaps things could…
Go back to normal.
But what Sephiroth said next shattered the thought entirely.
Do you have a type you prefer to sleep with?
Did he… have a… “What does who I sleep with even matter to you?” He snapped, a growl at the back of his throat. Crossing his arms tightly, Genesis felt it at the base of his gut—the flame of simmering wrath that Sephiroth always managed to find a way to stoke. And given his unchanged expression, it felt like it was on purpose.
"Genesis, it's part of the game..." Angeal gently reminded, although he too had his eyes fixed on Genesis for some reason, as though intent on a response. He seemed nervous.
"Just answer the question or drink," Sephiroth said expressionlessly, fist tightening against his leg. The tension was visible. The air was thick with it.
Scoffing, Genesis angrily reached for something to throw into his mouth, from the table, a ball of rice being the victim of his anger. He took his time to chew, his heart scrambling to put itself back together. It was hard. Why did it have to be so hard? With anyone else, this sort of game, these sorts of questions were easy. Talking about crushes, giggling over bizarre fetishes, or having a ‘type’ was really what made it fun. But now? Now it just hurt. He ached in a way that threatened to swallow him whole.
He wanted to leave. But what good would spoiling Angeal's vacation? He had been planning this for months. Even if it was meant to be a romantic getaway for just him and Sephiroth...
Genesis winced. He was just baggage, wasn't he? He should have left.
"... I don't care." He finally said, brushing a few grains of rice off his face. "I don't have a type. Just give me a pretty face, and I'll probably fuck them." He slouched over to rest an elbow on the inside of his crossed legs. Perhaps he should have just chugged the alcohol. Given the way Angeal flinched, he knew his words were harsh. But Sephiroth was unaffected-- in fact, he had yet to lose the smirk from when they started the game.
Genesis felt his eyes sting as he stared at the table full of food. Nothing tasted good anymore. And when Genesis started to feel this way, he knew he was unrecoverable. Because if nothing tasted good, he would settle for anything.
“Truth or dare, Sephiroth.” He managed to say. He simply had to push through it. Whenever this sort of thing happened, it was the only way. Just as quickly as the anger and hurt came up, he had to divert the attention. Because if he dared let up if there was a single moment where those feelings were given center stage…
It could be the end. And Genesis refused. This… was all he had. And he would not give it up without a fight. For Angeal's sake, he was going to at least try... For... Sephiroth too. He could not face reality. If he hesitated... if he failed…
He was going to lose everything.
"Truth," Sephiroth stated.
“Fine. What is your type?” He directed the question back, although, he immediately regretted it the moment it came out. It was like every raw and brittle nerve he had was firing at once. Genesis was acting on impulse. There was no more calculation, careful distance or laughing masks.
Sephiroth tilted his head, before softly glancing over towards Angeal. “Someone… reliable.”
Genesis felt the vision around his eyes crowd. Why was it he already knew the answer? It was whatever Angeal was, right? Someone stable, someone who did not cave to every whim that came his way. Right? And while there was a time that Genesis had believed they were all so close… that the three of them had a bond like no one else…
But it was just him who felt that way, wasn’t it?
“Loyal.” Sephiroth continued, and Genesis felt his heart collapsing in on itself.
Please, no. Let him live the fantasy. Let him make love to the lies and ignore the truth. Please, don’t speak.
Please. He promised this would be the only lie. It was too sweet, too cruel for him to let go.
Don’t leave me behind.
There was silence. Genesis was shaking, breath ragged as he fought the welling of tears from breaching.
I’ll be better.
I won’t act out anymore.
P… please.
But the silence pervaded, and gradually, Genesis looked up, eyes caught in that ever-predatory gaze. And as prey, the redhead was trapped. Why was Sephiroth smiling that way? It was soft.
Genesis was scared.
“… and passionate,” Sephiroth said gently.
Everything was a blur as he stood from the tatami mat. The blood in his ears drowned all other noise. Something had shattered in his chest—he was bleeding all over the place. And he followed his body as it ran to the nearest exit.
“G-genesis! Where—” Angeal shouted after him, immediately on his feet and on the heels of his friend, hand clasping on the crook of his elbow, although a secure grip was impossible with all the extra fabric.
Jamming his fingers into the sliding door, the redhead threw the thin piece of wood back with a force that made the delicate frame splinter on impact.
"Leaving." He retorted, but before he could even step onto the catwalk, he was stopped by a more secure grip.
"Where...?" Angeal whispered, desperate to secure a hold.
But Genesis wrenched his arm away, turning to face Angeal “A… anywhere but… here. The bar. … I… I get it.” The redhead’s chest heaved. “I really… fucking get it. But you didn’t… have to drag me out here just because you felt … guilty. Just…”
Whipping around again, Genesis stepped forward to the outer catwalk, only to find himself face-first into something solid. Looking up, he found Sephiroth blocking his path.
"Move." He hissed. And when Sephiroth did not comply, he attempted to forcibly shoulder his way through. But he was swiftly reminded why it was he had yet to succeed in besting the man in any of their duels. Sephiroth's grip on his wrists was like iron clasps. "Let me--"
"What is it you are going to do at the bar, Genesis?”
Hissing, he strained, "D-drink. And if someone wants to take me home, I'm feeling about ready to get fucked up." At least his body could match his emotional state.
"There's alcohol here," Sephiroth said, unrelenting, leaning closer to Genesis.
Confused and upset, Genesis met the look as his mind attempted to register what it was Sephiroth meant. He certainly understood the implication. But it simply did not fit. "What the hell is that supposed-- Genesis would not have much time to think, as the gap inexplicably shortened between the two.
He gasped as their lips nearly collided. Instead, Sephiroth’s face was impossibly close, the smell of the supposed alcohol on his breath. Jerking his head away, Genesis struggled to break free from the grasp, but his motivation was rapidly depleting. And when a warm, familiar embrace wrapped around him from behind, it was gone. What was the use?
Hanging his head to the side, tears splattered on the wood below.
The embrace around him tightened. Softly, Angeal spoke, tone weighted and on the verge of cracking. But it was insistent all the same. “... Genesis... This... This was not what I envisioned this to be.” He whispered, burying his face into his friend’s back.
“I'm… I’m sorry.” His voice muffled against the redhead’s exposed skin.
It hurt. When Genesis thought he was beyond it, that he had numbed enough, Angeal’s words were another open wound.
"A.. and just what did you envision it to be... Huh? Not much of... A romantic get away with a third wheel." He said bitterly through broken sobs.
Sighing softly, Angeal gently tightened his grip. "You... Aren't a third wheel, Genesis." He said, hands rubbing against the redhead’s chest attempting to soothe him. He opened his mouth to say something more, but the words did not come.
“Your mission was extended longer than anticipated.” Sephiroth cut through, and although his grip was unyielding, the intense pressure lessened some, now that Genesis had stopped thrashing.
Sniffling, Genesis did not look up. Drained, he said, “My.. mission had nothing to do… with my best friends fucking each other.” His mouth was dry. “I… I was wrong, ok? I’m sorry. I… I thought we were all the same. That we felt… the same. But.. I just… I need to be… alone.” He choked out.
Genesis hated himself. His polished act was completely destroyed, laying with the tears at his feet. He was a sniveling mess. And there, blossomed in his chest was that reddened flower of corruption. There was nothing beautiful about it. There was nothing redeemable about it.
A certain silence fell over the trio. The words hung in the air like a guillotine.
Sephiroth released one of Genesis' wrists to instead grip his chin, forcing the redhead to look at the silver elite. Gently, he brushed a thumb over the rolling tears on his cheeks.
"We do feel the same."
3 notes
·
View notes
Drink To Forget
Word Count: 1155
Pairings: Castiel x Reader
Warnings: angst, mentions of death, possible trigger, language
A/N: Request from @cuddly-cat-in-a-trench-coat , Requests and Tag List are open! Enjoy!
Masterlist
Summary: No one would believe you if you told them. They would call you crazy, probably send you away. So you kept quiet, and you drank to forget, to numb the fear.
............................................................
You waved the bartender over, sliding your cup towards him to refill. You rested your head on one hand while you swirled the liquid around in your cup. You had become a regular at the shabby bar in this small town. That wasn't always the case though, it wasn't until a few months ago that you decided to drown yourself in cheap booze and hangovers. When you had the unfortunate pleasure of watching someone get ripped to shreds. That alone was enough to give anyone nightmares. However, it was what killed that man that drove you to drink. It couldn't have been human, not with the way it howled, the way it's claws tore open that man's chest. You downed your shot.
"Should we not be doing research?"
That caught your attention, you knew almost everyone in this town and you had never heard that voice before. You turned your head to watch the three men who had just walked in.
"We've been driving for ten hours Cas, which means we need food."
The man in the trench coat furrowed his eyebrows as he followed the other two men to a table.
"And this will help with the research?"
The short haired man sighed and opened his menu. They started talking in hushed whispers, and you turned back around. You focused back on your drink, but had the distinct feeling of being watched.
'Just ignore it.' You thought to yourself.
You heard a chair scrapping against the floor, and the sound of footsteps.
"Cas!"
The footsteps stopped beside you and you glanced at the man with trench coat.
"Yes?"
You raised an eyebrow when he continued to stare at you.
"You've seen something."
You looked back at the other two men who were watching you now as well. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach.
"I've seen a lot of things, can you be less vague?"
You rose the glass to your lips but froze at his next words.
"You saw the thing that's been killing people."
His bluntness surprised you but not nearly as much as him knowing why you were practically swimming in alcohol. You pulled out a wad of cash, throwing it onto the bar.
"You're crazy."
You grabbed your jacket from the back of the chair and started heading for the door. You hurried down the street trying to get home as quick as you could. The sound of several sets of footsteps following you didn't go unnoticed. You stopped walking, whirling around to face them.
"I don't care how many of you there are, I'm pepper spraying at least one of you, before the other two can do anything."
The man with the longer hair raised his hands.
"We just want to talk, I'm Sam, this is my brother Dean, and our friend Castiel."
"Y/N... just talk? About what?"
"Yes, you have seen the creature we are hunting. We need you to tell us what you have seen."
You blinked looking at him then to the other men.
"Cas, we've talked about this, remember? Ease people into this." Dean muttered.
"I didn't see anything." You lied.
You turned to go but let out a scream when Castiel suddenly appeared in front of you.
"What the hell!?"
You backed up until you ran into Sam and Dean.
"Is there somewhere we can talk?" Sam asked giving you a comforting smile.
You nodded slowly, and lead them to your house. You kicked aside a stack of newspapers as you motioned for them to walk in.
"Are you just going to stand there awkwardly? Or do I get an explanation?"
Dean opened his mouth to answer but Castiel beat him to it.
"I am an angel of the Lord, Sam and Dean are hunters. We hunt supernatural beings that maim and kill humans such as yourself."
"Dammit Cas."
Dean pinched the bridge of his nose letting out an exasperated sigh. Sam leaned over to whisper something to Castiel, who gave him a confused look. You took a minute to process what was said before turning and walking into your kitchen. You rummaged through your cabinet looking for your whiskey.
"I'm told it's not healthy for a human to drink so excessively."
You placed your hands on the counter top, tilting your head back with a sigh.
"Castiel was it? I'm human, ok?"
You turned to face him crossing your arms as you leaned back. He nodded and you couldn't help but think it was a little cute how intently he seemed to be listening.
"Right, and humans well we suck at coping, especially after we've seen some freaky monster rip out someone's heart."
"You seem to be handling it rather well. Most humans either laugh, or run away when I tell them I am an angel."
You shrugged.
"I'm partly convinced I drank until I blacked out again and this is some weirdly vivid dream."
You let out a yelp when he suddenly pinched you.
"Ow! What was that for?"
He looked at you as if it was obvious.
"You said you were dreaming, I proved you were not."
You raised your eyebrows, looking at him in disbelief.
"I wasn't... it was just... oh never mind. If I tell you guys what I saw will you leave me alone?"
"We will find the monster and kill it yes."
You found how straight forward and blunt he was kind of amusing.
"Good enough."
Castiel followed you back into the living room, Sam and Dean stopped talking whenever you walked in.
"Alright you very tall men, listen up."
You went into as much detail as you could, telling them everything you saw and heard. By the end of your very long and vivid story they had come to the conclusion it was a werewolf.
"You can kill it right? Or at least keep it from finding me?"
You couldn't help how nervous your voice sounded.
"We've got this Y/N, don't worry." Dean assured you.
"I'll stop worrying once, it's dead." You mumbled.
Dean and Sam headed out to the car but Castiel lingered behind or a few more minutes.
"Dean copes the same way as you."
You looked up at him from where you sat.
"Doesn't help does it?" You smiled bitterly.
Castiel shook his head.
"I could take away the memories if you'd like."
You thought about it for a moment, it would solve a lot of your problems. However, the people who died, who disappeared there would be no one who knew the truth, no one to tell the families their loved ones could rest in peace now. So, you smiled and shook your head.
"I'll find a new way to cope, but if it's all the same to you, I think I'll keep the memory."
Castiel nodded and gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
"It was a pleasure to meet you Y/N."
You nodded to the angel, giving him a wink.
"Maybe next time we can meet when you're not on a hunt and I'm more sober."
................................................................
Tag List:@we-are-all-alittle-strange-here @adira-secrets @beththedemonhunter @gingernarwal @cuddly-cat-in-a-trench-coat @im-just-along-for-the-ride @lifeshortbro @sallyp-53
66 notes
·
View notes
thinking bout you | x.d.j.
Count: 1,140 | Genre: Angst, suggestive, fluff | Song: Thinking bout You by KATIE
Yeah I don’t know why you’re messing around with all them other girls
Acting like you’ve got all of the time left in the world
I promise that if you were mine I’d never let it go to waste
“Where have you been all night?”
“Out”
“Again? Its the third time this week, ya know, will you ever sleep?”
Xiaojun hums, rummaging through the fridge for food.
“I made something for you, its in the microwave.” Xiaojun places a tender kiss to the back of your head when he walks past you. “Thanks” You watch him disappear into his room, not only taking the food you made, but your thoughts too.
I can tell that you’ve been hurt before I know because I was too
I know you feel the energy when you look in my eyes
Can you tell the way I feel I’m obviously yours to take
You are alerted to your roommate Xiaojun’s presence when your front door slams. You watch him slowly walk in to the living area, head down and cheeks stained. “Dejun?” The boy’s eyes dart up, startled. Quickly wiping away what was left of his tears, a cracked voice reaches your ears. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were home.” You look at him, already knowing what happened. “Come here.” You gesture him over and he slides into your embrace, burying his face into your hair. After a few minutes he pulls away, looking down at your features. You look at at him, studying his tear stained face. “Don't do that” You quirk your eyebrow at him. “Do what?”
“Looking at me like I matter.”
Because it’s 4 o’clock in the morning
And that’s about the time I start zoning
Thinkin bout all the ways that I want it
And it's time that you know you know you know
You stare at you clock trying to focus on the time ticking by to drown out the moans of pleasure coming from Xiaojun’s room. Your mind clouded with thoughts of him and what it would feel like if it was you under him right now instead of the girl he brought home from his science class. The way your heart aches for his touch makes you clutch your chest in pain. You tell yourself you'll confess to him tomorrow, like you do every night.
That I can’t stop thinkin bout you
I can't stop thinkin bout you
And I don’t know what I’m gonna do
I can’t stop thinkin bout you
“Hey! Are you even listening to me?” Your friend Joy waves her hand in front of your face. “Y-yeah, sorry Joy, I just zoned out.” Joy rolls her eyes at this, “When are you gonna tell him?” You shrug as a response as you keep staring at Xiaojun from across the room where a girl is getting touchy with him. The pang of jealousy in your chest makes you look away into Joy’s concerned facial expression. “I don't know what I’m gonna do.”
In my imagination I can almost feel your touch
Dreaming of the day you say you want me just as much
But what good are the fantasies if I don’t get the real thing
“Dejun-”
“Shh, don't worry about them baby, focus on me.” His lips crashed onto yours and you couldn’t help but whimper at the feeling of his body pressed against yours. His hands wondered your body, eventually slipping under your shirt to cup your breasts. Massaging the mounds of flesh, Xiaojun broke the kiss to pepper more along your jaw. “You’re so beautiful”
The loud knock at your door startled you from your slumber, “Hey! Am I driving you to class or not?” Xiaojun yelled from the other side of the door. “No, you can leave, Im fine.” You respond, wiping the sweat from your forehead.
Cause although it’s only in my head for now
I’m hoping once I finally let it out
That you say you feel the way that I do
Baby say you feel the way that I do
“Dejun?” Xiaojun opens his eyes and stares up at you from where his head was placed in your lap. “Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too” He says closing his eyes again, and you couldn’t find it within yourself to explain to him what you actually meant.
Because it’s 4 o’clock in the morning
And that’s about the time I start zoning
Thinkin bout all the ways that I want it
And it's time that you know you know you know
The moans continued to spill from the unknown girl’s mouth for what seemed like hours. You laid in bed and questioned if a boy was really worth all this pain. You came to the conclusion you do every night, Xiao Dejun wasn't just some boy to you. Finally you turned on the shower in hopes of not only drowning out the girls moans, but your sobs as well.
That I can’t stop thinkin bout you
I can't stop thinkin bout you
And I don’t know what I’m gonna do
I can’t stop thinkin bout you
“Fuck off, Xiao”
“Woah, someone’s cranky, you need to get laid.”
You roll your eyes, “Sure, because sex fixes everything.” At this Xiaojun shrugs, “I never said it fixed everything, but its one hell of a distraction.” You sigh and place you coffee down, “I don't think I could.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m in love with someone already.”
And I just want you to know
And if you feel the same then say so
Babe I just want you to know
Baby I just want you to know you know you know
That night instead of one of Xiaojun’s daily escapdes filling your home with the scent of thick sex, Xiaojun comes on with only the scent of alcohol on him. He stumbles into the living area and collapses into your lap on the couch. “She loves someone.” He mumbles into your thigh. “Who?” you ask. “The girl I love with is involve with someone else.” Youre stunned into silence and the only thing that reaches your ears are Xiaojun’s soft snores.
That I can’t stop thinkin bout you
I can't stop thinkin bout you
And I don’t know what I’m gonna do
I can’t stop thinkin bout you
“Im sorry” Xiaojun mumbles when he wakes with his head in your lap and your fingers stroking his hair. “Don’t be.” You say, looking down at his tired eyes. “You should go back to sleep.” Xiaojun shakes his head, “No, im good, I didn't say anything stupid last night did I?” You smile and help him off the couch, “No you didn't.” Chuckling, Xiaojun makes his way to the kitchen only to be frozen in place by your words. “By the way Dejun, Im in love with you too.”
58 notes
·
View notes
Let Us Love You (Stucky x Reader)
Let Us Love You (Stucky x Reader)
Mood board made by @im-finallly-clean Thank you so much, Beth!
Warnings: Swearing, SMUT, there is a bit of m/m stuff, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), oral (f/m receiving), fingering, M/M/F threesome, DP, alcohol consumption… I think that’s all!
This is for 18+ only, please! It’s dirty, filthy smut with almost no plot but I’m damn proud of it!
This may turn out to be multiple chapters, I’m not sure yet. Please let me know what you think!? Feedback makes me a very happy girl!
I leaned my forehead against the door frame, the tears streaming down my cheeks as I tried to calm my breathing back to normal. I’d just experienced the worst first date of all time and now all I wanted to do was curl up on the couch with a drink or ten and pass out.
This was the last time that I was going to let Nat set me up on a blind date, that was for damn sure. Everything seemed to be going pretty well until he’d gotten a phone call in the middle of dinner. He’d excused himself from the table… and just never came back.
No goodbye, not even a “this isn’t going to work”. Nothing.
And the fucker left me to pick up the check.
Straightening up and swiping angrily at my eyes I pushed my key into the lock and turned the knob. Hopefully I wouldn’t wake my roommates if they were sleeping, but I needed to make myself a drink and drown my sorrows in booze and a gallon of chocolate cookie dough ice cream.
“Y/N?” Bucky questioned as he came around the corner from his room. He looked so fucking adorable (but I’d never say that out loud - he was a trained assassin after all) as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and ran his fingers through his sleep-mussed hair. “What happened?”
“Hey, Buck.” I said shortly. I didn’t want him questioning why my eyes were no doubt red, or why I probably looked like shit from all the blubbering I’d done on the way home. “Steve sleeping?”
“He’s down at the gym, working out his aggression on some punching bags no doubt.”
I tried to laugh, but it came out as a broken sob as I turned toward the kitchen. I walked to the fridge and pulled out my mixers to make myself a margarita. Pulling the Patron down from the cupboard I popped the cork and took a huge gulp before tipping the bottle over the blender and pouring a hefty amount into it. I swallowed past the initial burn and then started pouring the rest of my ingredients in before starting the blender.
I could see Bucky standing in the kitchen, his arms crossed over his bare chest as he watched me closely. I’d never been able to hide anything from him or Steve. We’d become so close over the past few months since we’d agreed to be roommates. Working at Stark Tower was great and I loved my job, but I couldn’t live there.
Steve and Bucky had also decided that they needed some space between work and home, so we’d all chipped in and rented a nice place in the city. We were only ten minutes or so from the tower which made it convenient, but also gave up the separation that we craved.
It didn’t hurt that I loved living with them, they were clean, sweet and undeniably gorgeous. I kept my feelings to myself, but I couldn’t help how I felt about them. I’d never felt this way about anyone before, let alone two men.
Bucky cleared his throat as I turned the blender off, ducking down a bit to get my attention. “I take it that things didn’t go well?”
I laughed cynically, pouring the mix into a large glass and spinning on my heel before walking toward the couch. I chugged a big mouthful of my drink and looked back toward Bucky. Plopping down onto the couch I swallowed another big gulp of my drink before clearing my throat.
“He left me in the middle of dinner. Got a phone call, I didn’t think anything of it, ya know? He excused himself, then just never came back. Left me to pay the check and everything.”
“Well, the guy is a dick and doesn’t know what he’s missing sweetheart.” I hadn’t heard Steve come in, but there he was in all his sweaty, muscular glory in his too-tight white t-shirt. These two really knew how to make a girl all tingly.
“Steve’s right, babe. He doesn’t deserve you.”
I scoffed as I chugged more of my drink. “I think I’m going to just give up on finding love now. Maybe I’m just meant to be alone.”
Steve closed the door, clicking the locks into place as Bucky rounded the sofa and sat in front of me on the coffee table. Taking my drink from my hands his eyes searched mine for a moment. Steve walked toward the two of us, his jaw clenched as he sat in the armchair against the far wall.
Bucky drew my attention back to him as he placed his vibranium hand on my knee, the coolness seeping through my stocking and sending jolts of pleasure up to my core. I tried to contain my shiver of arousal but by the smirk that pulled across both their lips, I failed.
“Is there anything we can do to make you feel better, sweetheart? To take your mind off that asshole that hurt you?”
The words dripping from Steve’s lips had me clenching my thighs together, trying to find some sort of relief. What were these two doing to me?
“Talk to us, gorgeous.” Bucky added as he ran his fingers a bit higher on my thigh, touching the lace top of my stocking, dipping one fingertip under the material.
“We’re friends, right? Isn’t this wrong?” I gulped, the words not coming out as strong as I wanted them to.
“Y/N, we don’t have to do a damn thing. We can sit here and watch movies and pig out on junk food with you if that’s what you want.” Steve said as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “We love you, sweetheart. We’re friends, first and foremost. If you don’t want anything else, then we all go back to how it’s been for the past few months.”
“But,” Bucky whispered, his breath fanning across my lips. Goosebumps rose all over my skin; the taste of him on my tongue overwhelming my senses. “If we can do anything to make you feel better, we’re here.”
“You guys…” I sighed, my heart hammering in my chest. “You know I love you, love you, right?”
“Oh, darling,” Steve smiled brightly. “We’ve known for a while that you feel something more for us. We just didn’t want to pressure you.”
“Well, you should know that we love you, too.” Bucky answered, his breath and scent drawing me toward him.
I looked over at Steve. “Yeah, baby,” he nodded. “ We love you so much. Let us love you.”
Sliding forward, my hands finding purchase on Bucky’s shoulders, I pulled him to me, our lips connecting in a heated kiss. We were not slow or tender, this was all teeth and tongues, gasps and moans of pleasure. We pulled apart, a sigh of contentment falling from my lips as Bucky moved both of his hands to my hips and jerked me down the couch. Steve stood up, pulling the coffee table back as Bucky got onto his knees and shoved my skirt up around my hips.
“These black stockings look absolutely delectable on you. Your soft, beautiful thighs covered in lace.” Bucky smoothed his hands up and down my thighs as he spoke, my eyes closing as I listened. “Eyes on me, gorgeous.”
I did as he said, opening my eyes and staring directly into his. Hooking his thumbs into the sides of my panties, he inhaled deeply once before jerking them off, the sound of them tearing pulling a pornographic sounding moan from my mouth.
“Are we doing this, Y/N? We’re all on the same page?”
I looked up at Steve standing behind Bucky, his arms now folded across his chest (that fucking t-shirt looking even more strained). I wanted to lick him. Every. Damn. Inch of him.
“Oh yeah, we’re so doing this.” That must have been what Bucky was waiting to hear, because without further warning one of his metal fingers worked its way through my folds and inside me as he leaned down and wrapped his lips around my clit.
“Fu-ucking hell!”
“We’re going to make you forget all about those failed dates, there’s only us now. Are you gonna be a good girl for us, Y/N?”
I couldn’t form coherent words, only moan as Bucky worked a second finger inside of me, crooking them up to hit my g-spot. He worked his tongue over my clit like a fucking pro as I ran my fingers through his hair, grabbing handfuls and holding him tightly against me. I was chasing my first orgasm, hoping Bucky would take the hint as I started grinding my pussy against his talented fingers. His mouth was pure sin, his groans and sighs vibrating against me in the most delicious sort of torture.
“Bucky, yes!”
He pulled back, his eyes meeting mine for a moment and I wanted to cry.
“Do you trust me, sweetheart?” He whispered against the skin of my thighs, his tongue running a wet trail back up toward my core where I wanted him most.
“Yes, god yes.” He smirked once more as he stood up, grabbing my hips and hefting me over his shoulder. Steve followed closely behind as we made our way into his room. Steve’s room was the best place for this, with his King size bed.
Bucky tossed me gently down onto the mattress, I tore the rest of my clothes off except my black lace stockings as his eyes searching mine once more. He pulled Steve against him, the strong, muscular bodies pushed against each other. I watched, completely enraptured as Steve’s lips found Bucky’s, their tongues working together as they moaned and started to grind against each other.
Bucky reached down, lifting Steve’s shirt off over his head as Steve laughed and pulled his gym shorts down. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from them, the sight before me was the most beautiful thing I’d ever witnessed.
“I need your mouth on me, Buck.”
You watched as Bucky slid down to his knees, pumped Steve twice in his hands and then wrapped his lips around his cock, sucking him in with a moan and then pulling back. Over and over and over. The sound of Steve’s deep moans, Bucky’s mouth working over his cock like he was a starving man had me once again clenching my thighs together looking for relief.
I moved my hand down to my core, dipping two fingers into my slick before working them over my clit, my eyes never leaving the two men in front of me.
“Good girl, sweetheart. Does watching Bucky suck my cock turn you on?” Steve groaned loudly. “You gonna cum for us?”
“God, yes. You two are so fucking beautiful.”
“Okay, Bucky, up. We’re both going to fuck her now.” The sound of Steve’s voice, so deep and commanding, had me cumming all over my fingers. My thighs shaking as Steve came to the bed, pulling my fingers to his mouth and sucking on them. “So good. Bucky’s going to fuck your ass, have you ever done that before?”
“O-once,” I moaned. “I want to feel you both inside of me.”
Steve pulled me up to let Bucky lie down, he pulled some lube from the bedside table and squeezed some onto Steve’s fingers. Holding me up against his chest, Steve worked one of his fingers into my ass as Bucky stripped his sleep pants off. Steve continued to stretch me out, working two fingers and scissoring them before pulling them out and looking down at me.
“Sit reverse on his cock, baby. You’re gonna take us both.”
I sighed audibly as the shiver of arousal worked its way down my spine. I crawled up the bed toward Bucky, before mounting him in reverse. He lubed his cock and had me lift up. Slowly he began to push into my ass, his cock much bigger than Steve’s fingers, but the stretch and burn was incredible.
“Just breathe, good girl. So fuckin’ tight, Jesus Christ…”
When Bucky was fully seated within me, he held my hips still, my back rubbing against his chest and his metal fingers rubbing against my clit as Steve got on the bed, his eyes looking absolutely predatory.
His lips met mine, kissing me deeply before resting his forehead against mine. “We love you so much, sweetheart. Once we do this…”
“I’m yours, both of yours. No more dates, no more running away from how I feel. I love you both, too.”
He nodded as he grasped himself in his hand and began pushing inside me. I threw my head back, the feeling of being so full - it was almost too much. My eyes felt heavy, like I couldn’t keep them open because I was so overstimulated.
“You look so good, wrapped around the both of us.” Steve pushed in, balls deep inside of me. I could feel the two of them, muscles twitching as they held still and allowed me to get used to the feeling. “You okay, Bucky? Y/N?”
I could feel Bucky’s cock twitch inside me before he groaned out a ‘yes’. I looked into Steve’s eyes, my heart thundering as I told him yes as well. Steve pulled out and pushed back in as Bucky worked his own rhythm underneath me.
There was a constant push and pull, their rhythms now working together to bring me pleasure. The whisper of moans, the slap of skin on skin on skin. Bucky wrapped one of his hands into my hair, pulling my head back as he bit the side of my neck. Steve leaned down on the other side and nipped the skin there, whispering how good I felt and how tight I was.
My thighs once again began to shake, my breathing rapid as I felt my orgasm rushing toward me, the tightening of my muscles and the fluttering of my core alerting them both that I was close.
“Steve… oh, yes!”
“I can feel you, baby. You feel so fucking good.” Bucky groaned loudly, his fist still wrapped in my hair and his breath tickling against my sweat-soaked skin.
“I can feel Bucky, Y/N. I can feel his cock inside of you.”
That’s all it took to push me over that edge, I came hard, the rush of it covering my thighs and also wetting Steve.
“Fuck, Bucky - Steve! So… good…”
“God damn, our little rain maker. That is so fucking hot!” Steve grunted as he fucked into me harder, his cock hitting my g-spot again. Bucky’s thrusts were beginning to lose their rhythm and he moaned loudly as he moved his hands down to my hips, holding them tight.
“Fuck, I’m so close.” Bucky sighed, his grip tightening enough to bruise as he thrust a bit harder and deeper. Thrust once, twice, three times more, he locked up behind me, his cum spilling into my ass as he moaned against the skin of my back. “Y/N, oh fuck!”
Steve wrapped his hands into my hair now, pulling my face toward him as he kissed me deeply, his eyes open as he thrust harder, faster.
“Cum for us one more time, Y/N. I can feel you.”
Bucky’s cock slipped from my ass but his hands were still on my hips. He used his strength to buck my body against Steve’s, my thighs burning as I worked up against him, matching his punishing rhythm as I felt the coil snap once more. Steve moaned loudly as his orgasm took over, his hips pulled tightly against mine as his muscles tensed, his face contorting in pleasure and his breath mingling with mine.
We all pulled apart, flopping onto the bed as Bucky got up and went to the bathroom. I tried to catch my breath as I felt a cool cloth between my legs. I cracked my eyes open, smiling slightly as I watched the two of them. I was now completely wrecked, but in a good way.
“You seem better now, sweetheart. How did we do?” Steve asked with a smirk as he wrapped his arms around my waist.
“Like you don’t know that you both just ruined me for anyone else, ever.” I kissed his lips softly as Bucky slipped into the bed on the other side of me, his arms resting around Steve’s.
I turned my head toward him, our lips meeting in a kiss that had my stomach flipping with excitement. The pain between my legs had me realizing I couldn’t do anything else tonight, but I would now crave the feeling of them both. Pulling away from his mouth, I felt my cheeks heat up as they both leaned up over me and kissed each other.
“Yeah, I’m so fucking ruined.”
They both pulled back with a smile, their eyes meeting mine. What had I been so upset about before? I couldn’t quite remember as they both wrapped me back up into their arms and we fell into a deep sleep.
147 notes
·
View notes