Tumgik
#because Jesus how the FUCK does he even approach this. But he manages it. And Spock gets in on it too as he slowly gets to know the doctor
titishq · 2 months
Text
Fratboy!Jschlatt - Headcanons
Tumblr media
⤷ pairing: fratboy!jschlatt x gn!reader
contains: swearing , mention of bimbos— , mentions of partying & drinking , angst if you squint , overwhelming toothrotting fluff
summary: headcanons of fratboy!jschlatt falling for you & your relationship!!<3
⋆ jay thinks he’s the biggest and toughest person, but in reality he’s a total softie.
⋆ he hates when he finds himself falling for someone that isn’t a stereotypical ‘bubble headed blonde bimbo’, meaning he’ll actually have to try to get noticed by them. he especially hates when he found himself falling for you.
⋆ you were just some nerd compared to him, you didn’t care for sports, you didn’t show up to parties or games, you were just focused on your studies and graduating college—!
⋆ at first he started annoying you; throwing papers on your desk, bumping into you, knocking your bag over. when he finally got a reaction from you, he was over the moon, even if you essentially told him to ‘fuck off’.
“jesus christ, jonathan! fuck off, you’re so annoying!” you groaned and grabbed the piece of paper he threw at you, looking back at him and tossed it right back. you didn’t understand why he was smiling so much at you.
“thanks, sweetheart.” he smiled and grabbed the paper, un-crubbling it to see the small note he had written for you, one asking you on a date. he couldn’t help but feel a little sad that you didn’t notice, but he knew one day you’d realize what the papers meant.
⋆ the second you started giving him attention, he was using it to his advantage. moving into bright colored sticky notes so they’d pop out on the brown desk, if they stuck to your black bag it was obvious he was messing with you.
⋆ he’ll follow you around the school when he can, making excuses like he’s simply going to class or lunch, but in reality he’s just attempting to admire you.
⋆ be purposely started failing the class you had together so the teacher would force you to help him, causing the two of you to become closer somewhat, but you were still insanely annoyed by him.
⋆ he would act so dumb when you point out an obvious answer, looking at you with big doe eyes in an attempt to get you to just give in and kiss him already; but we all know that’s not gonna happen (yet).
⋆ he starts inviting you to parties, not surprised when you decline his offers at first, but after so many times you give in and show up to a overcrowded frat hour at 12 AM.
“jay, what the hell?” you looked at him with a worried expression, seeing him already downing shots in the kitchen with his friends, who were busy hyping him up. he looked up at you with a soft gaze, approaching you and leaning down to whisper in your ear. “just have fun, toots. let loose a little.”
he had convinced you to have one shot of pure vodka some kid has gotten his hands on, the liquid burned going down, causing you to gag and reach for the nearest soda, which just so happen to be jay’s. you snatched it from his hand, drinking it quickly to get rid of the taste. “god, that was disgusting!” you didn’t even realize he was staring at your lips, thinking about how you technically kissed because your lips touched the same spot of the fan.
⋆ this boy can’t let it go. the sight of you at that party will forever be embedded in his brain. he had managed to get a picture of you with a wide smile on your face, his arm around your waist, and his lips making contact with your temple. which that picture was now his lock screen.
⋆ the first time you caught a glimpse of the picture, your face became red. he tried to ignore it, but simply couldn’t, finally giving in to ask you on a date.
⋆ he went on a whole rant about how much he liked you and how pretty he thought you were, his own face becoming flush as he waited for you to say something—anything!
⋆ of course when you said you felt the same, he practically lost his mind! this beautiful person he had been crushing on for months, liked him back?? it was unbelievable!
⋆ he was a little afraid to tell him frat bros at first, but was happy when they were cool with it, and even let him invite you over occasionally.
⋆ you had grown lowkey close with his best friend, ted, the two of you ganging up on jay occasionally and making fun of him.
⋆ for anniversaries he begs ted to help him set up stuff for you, it’s small at first, but as the numbers and amount of time get bigger, the more insane the date was!
“jay, where are you?” you called out into the empty frat house, furrowing your brows at the fact the lights weren’t on and most people were probably asleep, forcing you to use your phone flashlight to not wake anyone. you made your way to his room, slowly creaking the door open, being greeted by the entire frat house shooting confetti poppers at you and screaming their heads off.
“jesus! what are you guys doing?” you pushed the confetti out of your face, looking up to see jay holding up a bouquet and a poster reading out ‘happy 1 year!’. you could feel the blush rising to your face, smiling widely and rushed into his arms, earning a kiss on the head and him mumbling against your hair. “i love you, sweetheart.”
⋆ by the time you two graduated together, everyone was fully convinced you were gonna get married. even professors knew you two were dating, some purposely seating you two far apart so you wouldn’t be all up on one another— even though you weren’t.
⋆ he had bought you a necklace for graduation, one that matched a ring he wore on his ring finger. the entire time he was waiting for your name to be announced, a wide smile on his lips as he finally heard it, probably being the loudest to clap and cheer.
⋆ after your friends all met up with each other, you tucked under his arm and his hand rubbing your side. he occasionally placed a kiss on your forehead, mumbling against your skin about how he was so proud of you and how much he loved you.
⋆ of course— you moved in with each other, living in the same apartment complex as some of his buddies, where all of you would often meet up and hold small parties, just like the ones in college.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
tags: @teddysboy , @riverwritez , @asterjaxx , @luv4luci
180 notes · View notes
modelbus · 7 months
Text
Another day another short one
Pairing: Cc!Tommyinnit x Gn!Reader
Flufftober 9 - Under The Weather
Tumblr media
You shut the door behind you, not bothering to be quiet. It was nearly 1 in the afternoon, you were positive Tommy was up and working on the video he told you about. It was a genius idea, one you couldn't wait to watch.
You had taken a chance and decided to do an interview with a podcast, talk about your experiences as a famous content creator. Thank God Niki was also there to calm your nerves. You two had ended up going out for lunch together, just talking, making you a little late to come home. Home. The flat you shared with Tommy was your home, but more than that it was him. You both, together.
Talking about your relationship on the podcast had gotten you thinking quite a bit about everything. The podcasters asked if you thought your career was dependent upon Tommy, and you had replied without a second thought. Of course it wasn't. Just like how George and Sapnap's weren't dependent upon Dream. Just because there was someone bigger than you that you were close with didn't make people dependent.
Funnily enough though, you both might a little dependent upon each other in every other way.
"Tommy?" You ask, nudging open their door. Your eyebrows shoot up at the sight of Tommy still in bed.
He definitely had a recording today. 
"Tom, you awake?"
"No." He groans. "Fuck off." You know him well enough to know he doesn’t mean it.
"Not happening. What happened to your recording?"
"Canceled it."
He finally opens his eyes, staring at you. You’re jealous of how relaxed and comfortable he looks. 
"Why?"
His next words are less of words and more of an incomprehensible mumble. If you were meant to understand any of it, you just didn't.
Well, not like you were doing anything else today.
You’ve barely approached the bed before he's tugging you in with him, practically attaching himself to you. Not to say you don’t like it, but this wasn't normal Tommy behavior.
"Jesus Toms, you're burning." 
"I took Advil."
That's something at least. But from the way he's openly letting himself curl into you, you can tell it didn't help much. Tommy tended to get these flash sicknesses, growing ill just to be as happy as ever.
He jokes about it being because he never gets long-term sick, like you do. Like normal people do. Hence why you absolutely fucking suck at managing being sick together.
His breath fans across your neck from where he's tucked his head into the crook of your neck. If he gets you sick, you’ll murder him. 
"Wait, the light-"
"Nope. Fucking no."
You laugh. "Fine, fine."
You unlock your phone, holding it up behind his head so you can see it and scroll through Twitter. Within seconds Tommy's dropping off to sleep, but you aren’t quite there.
Instead you’re content to scroll through Twitter, freezing when he moves even slightly or his hot ass skin touches yours. It's fine. He'll wake up tomorrow as he always does, perfectly fine.
89 notes · View notes
dreamwritesimagines · 2 years
Text
Enamored Extra Scene - 10
[Set in: Between chapters 28-29]
Tumblr media
“Does he know?”
Anthony heaved a sigh, sipping his whiskey. The gentlemen’s club was crowded today, multiple conversations happening at the same time, creating a muffled chatter under the heavy smoke and occasional clinking of glasses. Simon leaned in so that he could lower his voice.
“Anthony,” he said. “Does Elias know—”
“That I’m in love with his sister?”
“That your intentions are sincere?”
“He does,” Anthony said. “She doesn’t, though.”
Simon shot him a glare.
“Can you blame her?” he asked. “I mean you did rip her heart out.”
Anthony bit inside his cheek and stole a look at him, making him pull back.
“Oh no,” Simon said. “I know that look. What the fuck did you do?”
“I’m trying to fix—”
“Anthony, what did you do?” Simon cut him off and Anthony downed his drink, then filled it again.
“I asked her to marry me.”
A silence fell upon them and Simon blinked a couple of times, gawking at him.
“I’m sorry?”
“And I’ve been told it was a terrible proposal because I said…it doesn’t matter, just know that it was not romantic and she rejected it.”
“You proposed!?”
“In hindsight it was not the best speech—”
“Jesus Christ, if even you are saying that, that speech must have been a disaster.”
“I’m trying to fix it.”
Simon threw his hands up. “How?”
“Cecily is helping me.”
“...Cecily?” Simon repeated after a beat. “You’ve managed to win over Cecily?”
Anthony shot him a bright smile and nodded fervently.
“Apparently I need to give her space to think instead of rushing and I’m making progress. The other day she said we might be friends, so at least she no longer hates me,” Anthony hesitated for a moment. “I think.”
“When exactly did you propose?”
“Back in Stormview.”
“I’m guessing Elias has no idea?”
Anthony sipped his drink and shook his head.
“I’m not going behind his back,” he said. “Elias knows I’m in love with her, and don’t get me wrong, he’s my best friend but her opinion and decision comes before Eli’s, or her father’s for that matter. If she says yes, that’s when I’ll go and talk to them. Otherwise she…she won’t like it, she said that when Elias was about to propose to Cecily. I’m going to ask her first.”
“Avon hates you,” Simon said and Anthony raised his glass as if making a toast.
“Oh yeah, he hates my guts.”
“How are you planning on convincing him?”
“I have a feeling that convincing him won’t be half as challenging as convincing her,” Anthony pointed out and Simon thought for a second, then shrugged his shoulders.
“You might be right about that.”
Anthony’s head shot up as the thought hit him.
“Simon,” he said. “You’re not telling anyone about this, including Daphne. Especially Daphne.”
“Oh come on!”
“No, if Daphne finds out, somehow my whole family will, and my mother will ask a thousand questions and everyone will try to get involved—”
“Good afternoon gentlemen!” Elias’s voice reached them and he plopped down on the leather seat across from Anthony’s, a huge smile lighting up his face. “How are you on this fine day?”
“Finally Eli, I was starting to think you wouldn’t show up.”
“I’ve lost myself in marital bliss, what can I say?” he said. “I don’t expect you to understand Anthony. You’re unmarried after all.”
Anthony rolled his eyes and Simon chuckled before he checked the time and stood up.
“You’re leaving already?” Elias asked and he shrugged his shoulders.
“Well, I didn’t think you’d be this late and I have plans with my wife,” he shot Anthony a grin. “I don’t expect you to understand Anthony, you’re unmarried.”
“Jesus Christ…”
“It was good to see you Elias.”
“You too, tell Daph I said hi!” Elias said and Simon nodded, then walked out of the club. Anthony shook his head slightly and took a sip of his drink while Elias filled his own glass.
“Am I that late?”
“Only by an hour and a half.”
“Marital bliss, my friend.” Elias said with a grin and Anthony opened his mouth to retort, but then got distracted by Lord Gillingham approaching them.
Oh God damn it.
“Lord Westcliff?”
Elias looked up from his glass and heaved a sigh.
“Lord Gillingham.”
“I was wondering if I could have a word with you?”
Elias exchanged glances with Anthony before turning to Gillingham again while Anthony drummed his fingertips on the armchair, frowning at Gillingham.
“I think I know what this is about,” Elias said. “Lord Gillingham, I’m sure my sister would be honored to hear about your intentions but I’m afraid my father says no.”
A look of disappointment crossed Gillingham’s face and Anthony tried to stop himself from smirking.
“Oh,” Gillingham said and Elias nodded solemnly.
“Yeah.”
“What is his reason?”
“Hm?”
“I’m sure he gave a reason for saying no, I’d like to know if it’s something I can fix.”
Elias pursed his lips, “Uh—yeah, of course he gave a reason.”
“What is it?”
Elias blinked a couple of times and turned to Anthony.
“Anthony, surely you can tell Lord Gillingham of my father’s reasons, you were there.”
Anthony stared at him in disbelief. “What?”
“You’re my best man, it’s your responsibility.”
“Your wedding is over, Eli.”
Elias shrugged. “You still owe me. Gillingham, Anthony will enlighten you about the reasons.”
Anthony gritted his teeth. As much as he wanted to say that Gillingham couldn’t marry her because he was the one who was going to marry her, he knew it would be unacceptable.
Also, Cecily would kill him and throw him into Thames.
“Duke Avon respects his daughter’s choices,” he said. “She um…she wants to become a spinster I’m afraid.”
Gillingham’s jaw dropped.
“Such a great beauty swore off matrimony?” he said and shook his head as the fury spread through Anthony upon him commenting on her beauty. “But that cannot be. I’m sure if I talked to her I could convince her.”
“That’s not going to happen,” he managed to sound calm even if he wanted to punch him. “Right Eli?”
Elias nodded and reached out to grab a fistful of dried fruits from the small bowl on the table before popping one into his mouth, watching them.
“What he said.”
“Yeah, and Duke Avon looked very convinced of it,” Anthony said. “Nothing to be done about it.”
“But I may make the lady change her mind when we dance at the next ball—”
“She’s not going to change her mind,” Anthony cut him off, glaring at him. “No matter how many times you dance, and if you ask me you two shouldn’t dance at any ball.”
Gillingham looked confused. “Why not?”
“Well, she’s…” Anthony cleared his throat. “She’s accustomed to a certain life style and Duke Avon isn’t certain you would be able to maintain it after the marriage, and there’s no reason for you to dance with her or court her if you’re not going to marry her. Which you’re not. You’re not going to marry her.”
“But I don’t understand, I could maintain her life style.”
“I doubt— the Duke doubts it,” Anthony corrected himself. “She has had what, Elias? One hundred gowns for this season only?”
“I stopped counting.”
“Yeah, nearly one hundred gowns,” Anthony said. “I’m not even including her accessories and such into it, and her father wants to make sure if she changes her mind and gets married, it will be to someone who can maintain her current life style.”
Gillingham heaved a sigh. “I’m certain I could, but if the Duke disagrees…”
“He disagrees vehemently.” Anthony stated. “Especially considering your gambling habit.”
Gillingham stared at him for a couple of seconds and cleared his throat. “I see,” he said, “Thank you for your time and your honesty, gentlemen. Please give my regards to Duke Avon.”
With that, he walked away from them and Elias turned to grin at Anthony.
“Well handled, I’m so proud of you.”
Anthony shot Elias a glare. “Yeah thanks for the help, Eli.”
“You had it under control,” Elias said, chewing on the fruit. “I didn’t know he had a gambling problem.”
“I asked around when Whistledown said—” Anthony paused for a moment, “Uh…I heard things. Lots of lords are talking about it.”
“Interesting,” Elias said, “Well, I’m sure my father would also use those reasons if he knew about Gillingham’s intentions. Or his existence for that matter.”
“He doesn’t know?”
“Nah, I didn’t ask him,” Elias said. “It’s easier to pin the responsibility on him. She just told me to reject Gillingham, I didn’t think the guy would ask for a reason.”
“Did she say why she rejected him?” Anthony asked and Elias narrowed his eyes, and put the rest of the dried fruits into the bowl and dusted off his hands.
“She did, now that you mention it.”
Anthony sat up straighter. “What—what did she say?”
Elias thought for a moment before he grabbed his glass to sip his drink, then tilted the glass in Anthony’s direction.
“Well, I suppose there’s no harm in telling you the reason,” he said, “She knows it, I know it…It’s only fair if you do as well. She rejected him because of you.”
Anthony pulled back, holding his breath. “…What?”
“We’ve had a long conversation after I came back,” Elias said with a sigh. “And I’m glad we did, because now I understand everything better. She said she would reject every single suitor for you because apparently she cannot see herself marrying anyone else but you.”
Anthony stared at him, a ray of hope warming his insides. “Are you serious?”
Elias pulled his brows together, then snorted out a laugh.
“No you goddamn rake, of course I’m not serious!” he exclaimed. “Keep your arrogance under control, will you? She said no such thing, I’m jesting!”
Anthony let out a breath and kicked at Elias’s boot. “Fucking prick.”
“Aw, is that the way to talk to the brother of the lady whom you’re hopelessly in love with?”
“Probably not, but it’s the way to talk to my best friend who also happens to be a fucking prick.”
Elias chuckled and reached out to clink his glass with his.
“Fair enough. But hey,” he said. “I don’t think she’s planning on marrying anyone anytime soon, and I’m completely serious. You said it yourself, she wants to be a spinster nowadays.”
Anthony’s heart skipped a beat. “Do you think she means it?”
“My sister, a spinster?” Elias repeated and scoffed a laugh. “That would be the day.”
Anthony leaned back and swirled the drink in his glass.
“She seemed determined.”
“The same way she was determined to become a nun?”
“…You do have a point.”
“The odds of her becoming a spinster are about the same as her becoming a nun,” Elias assured him. “That being said, I doubt her claiming to want to become a spinster is going to stop any of these proposals.”
Anthony tried to focus on the conversation instead of the jealousy boiling his blood.
“I heard your father forbid her suitors from entering your house.”
“Thankfully,” Elias said. “Can you imagine if he didn’t? It’s enough that I’m being ambushed here and at the balls, I don’t want to deal with at home either. I don’t even want to join the next ball because of it.”
Anthony frowned. “What do you mean?”
“If none of her suitors can talk to her in our drawing room, they will be climbing over each other to get a dance or have a conversation with her at the balls,” Elias reminded him, making him clench his jaw. “That’s their only chance of talking to her and convincing her of matrimony after all.”
Anthony gritted his teeth but Elias didn’t even notice.
“I mean you know how they all are,” Elias whined. “These idiots will think they can propose to her just because they talked to her once, and I will have to reject all of them and give them reasons. After every ball or every social outing. Should be fun.”
Jealousy spread through Anthony’s system like poison, making him let out a breath.
“Watching all these idiots try to court her?” he muttered as a bitter taste appeared at the back of his throat before he downed his drink in one go. “Right. Should be fun.”
516 notes · View notes
mykneeshurt · 1 year
Text
Don’t fear the Reaper part 3
Tumblr media
Orders have been received from Laswell, a clash of horns on the battlefield reveals some of the Lieutenants feelings towards you.
Warnings - COD typical violence, swearing, blood, gore, angst
The meeting with Laswell went smoothly, you, Soap and Ghost were assigned a ground mission. Major Hassan Zyani. To put it simply, this mission was Capture or Kill.
As you zeroed in on the landing zone the Marines began to get restless. A young Marine opposite you finally gave in and asked you ‘why they call you Reaper?’ Smiling you peered over to him, ‘wondered when you were gonna ask. Been watching you fight the urge for ages.’ You leaned over, your voice all but a whisper ‘because I’m the the unknown. The inevitable. No-one sees me coming, and then? Poof! Your life is mine.’
The Marines eyes widened. Visibly unnerved at what you just said. Soap rolled his eyes and kicked your leg. ‘Ow! Fuck you Soap.’ He leant across you looking at the young Marine, ‘ignore her. She’s just good at killin people.’ Bringing his body back across yours he shot you a look ‘could you not freak out the youngens’ please? Fuckin weirdo.’ Pouting you shoved him with your shoulder ‘but it’s fun!’
As your landing zone approached Ghost rose from his seat and repeated the plan one more time. ‘Bravo team offloads here. Alpha team stays onboard to land down range. Both teams meet in the middle. Remember we want Hassan alive, but this is Capture or Kill.’
The red light at the back of the plane engulfed Ghost as he gave the orders. He was an enigma of black and red, his eyes a colourless black void against the light. His stature demanded respect. The scene before you was enough to even make the devil blush. Your cheeks felt like they did.
As the plane door opened his gaze met yours. Softening slightly, before switching his gaze to the others ushering them outside. ‘Keep up Soap, Reaper.’
Pilling out you stood under the black sky. Perching on top of the hill you saw you two objective. Breach and clear. Simple enough. That was until the helo took RPG fire, they managed to avoid one with the use of flares. You always loved how they fell, like delicate drops of luminescent rain. However the got got struck by a second RPG, taking out the back of the plane.
Soap of course wanted to rush in and help, Ghost ever the levelled headed one refused. Instead wanting to take the first two houses as planned, decrease risk of for then push up to secure the crash site.
As you descended onto the first target you broke off from the group and ran ahead. The Marines beside you furious you were disobeying your Lieutenants orders. But he knew you well enough by now. ‘Fuck does she think she’s doin?’ … ‘Trust a fuckin woman to fuck it up.’
Ghost shot them a stone cold glare through the night vision goggles. Soap patted one on the back ‘just watch.’
Silently creeping up the exterior stairs you took the first one down with your knife. A matte black blade with a scythe engraved into the metal. Your prized possession. Moving through the house like a shadow you took out another one in a small office. Throwing the knife, landing in the fleshiest part of his throat. As you pulled the blade out blood spurted from his neck landing over your vest and jaw. The feel of his warm blood cooling on your skin caused your breath to hitch in your throat.
Jesus. Were you this unhinged? Shrugging at your inner monologue you nodded. Yes. You were.
Throwing a flash bang down the stairs aided in Ghost breaching the door. Soap swept in taking out two soldiers, but not before you threw your blade at the remaining one. His sights set on Soap you quickly put an end to that. The Marines who doubted you before gave you a quick nod of apology. Smiling you looked over to Soap ‘that’s 3 for me.’
As he was about to retaliate the second house noticed your presence and opened fire. Managing to take out the soldiers on the balcony you slipped through the night towards the next objective. ‘She’s got a fuckin death wish’ one of the Marines commented. As you were about to reply Ghosts voice chimed through the radio, answering for you. ‘Gotta catch her first.’ He actually sounded proud, causing you to smile to yourself.
Climbing in through the window a solider popped up from a trapdoor. Narrowly missing you. Luckily his aim was shit allowing you to put a swift end to his life. Rounding the corner, just as you were about to take another they dropped to the floor before you had chance. A blade in his neck. Ghost appeared and bent down to retrieve his blade. As he glanced up he saw you hand on hip, looking less than impressed. ‘He was mine.’ Standing up he closed the gap, looking down on you ‘mine now.’
You felt a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. Cheeky. You followed Soap upstairs, he cleared the first room allowing you to pass. You cleared the hall and another room, videos of Zyani in every room. ‘Clear’ you radioed though. Soap made a comment about how well equipped they were. Each house was like an armoury.
Now, for the crash site. ‘Soap with me, Reaper stay here with Bravo team. Cover us.’ A shot of defiance sped through you. ‘Excuse me?’ Your tense voice growled over the radio. ‘That’s an order Sargent’ he barked back. Absolutely not. He’s not putting you on babysitting duty. Fuck that. You marched through the house and down to the ground floor. Soap shot you a look, pleading for you to listen to your superior.
Ignoring him completely you stomped over to Ghost, ‘I’m coming with you.’ He sighed. Turning to face you you could see you’d crossed a line. His eyes were hard, cold, unforgiving. ‘Negative. You will stay here and cover us.’
‘Why?!’
‘Because it’s a fucking order. Stay put.’
‘Bu…’
He wasn’t having any of it, gripping your vest he shoved you backwards into the wall. You glared up at him, chewing your cheeks. ‘Reaper I swear to god, shut the fuck up. You’re staying here. Just do as you’re fucking told.’ His voice was stern, gravelly but underneath that? He was pleading with you. Pushing you further into the wall his grip tightened. Swallowing defeat you grit your teeth ‘yes sir.’
Releasing you he and Soap took to the plane. You could only watch helplessly as they defended it as best they could. You offered cover where possible but it was impossible to see clearly. Wave after wave smashed into them, bullet after bullet, grenade after grenade. Until it went silent.
‘I don’t like this’ you muttered into the radio. The tension was rising, waiting for the next surge to occur. You were getting restless. Agitated.
Over the radio you heard Ghost call for air support. You nervously drummed your fingers on the concrete slab in front of you. There was a hissing in the distance. They’d popped fucking smoke. The smoke crept towards the plane, swallowing it whole. You couldn’t see shit. You felt nervous. Being cut off from your team was an alien feeling, one you didn’t want to experience again in a hurry. Through the smoke you could see headlights. ‘Bravo 7-6 to Bravo 7. Four armoured trucks coming your way.’
A hail storm of fire and bullets rained down upon the armoured vehicles. Taking them and whomever was inside, out. The scene in front of the plane looked like hell itself. The smells of scorched flesh entered your nostrils, one of the Marines emptied his stomach contents onto the floor beside you. ‘Re-group and push up’ Ghost commanded.
Everything from there on in seemed like a blur. Soap took out snipers in the building, air support assisted where they could. Practically levelling the building before you. Inside you swarmed through, like a plague you cleared each room. Until you stumbled upon Zyanis jacket. ‘Fuck!’ Soap growled, so he was here?!’
‘Must have lost him when we secured the crash site’ Ghost responded, looking out over the path of destruction. ‘Saying we shouldn’t have helped?’
Ghost looked over to you, glaring through you. ‘Actions have consequences.’
You’d had enough. ‘Fuck you mean by that?’ You challenged, stepping up to him. ‘Soap’ round em up wait for exfil. Reaper and I need a chat.’ Soap patted you on the back before leaving. ‘Well?’ You pressed, digging your nails into your vest. He tilted his head, ‘wanna tell me what that was about? Challenging me in front of them?’ His voice was strained. You scowled up at him ‘wanna tell me why you left me behind?! We’re a fucking team.’
He rolled his eyes, trying to find the energy to deal with you. ‘You weren’t left behind. I left you in charge of Bravo.’
‘No, you put me on babysitting duty, where I had to watch from the sidelines.’ You crossed your arms over your chest. On the defensive. ‘Are you hearing yourself? You sound like a fucking child. I put you where I needed you.’
‘Needed me? Or wanted me?’
‘Needed.’
‘Pffft. You just didn’t want me to get in the way!’ You voice was becoming louder, frustration and annoyance dripping from every syllable.
Grabbing both your arms he pushed you against the wall, towering over you. Making sure you felt his dominance, making sure you knew where you stood. His grip tightened like a vice, squeezing the muscle beneath his fingertips. ‘You’re hurting me’ you spat. ‘You...’ He sighed, trying to find the words ‘you were where I needed you to be, because I don’t … I can’t lose you.’
Your heart sank, it hurt, you relaxed your posture at the revelation before you. ‘You won’t? I’m right here sir.’ He loosened his grip, hooded, tired eyes met with your own. ‘You don’t understand, I just can’t.’ He sounded defeated, like he couldn’t find the means of expressing how he wanted to. This was a battle for another day. ‘Come on.’ He gestured to the door, ‘exfil in 10. We need to move.’ And with that he left the room, leaving you confused but yearning for his touch.
__________
Tag list - @sashadiurnal @iamnotyourmusebitch
31 notes · View notes
vee-crytraps · 7 days
Text
Good Luck, Babe! | Ch 1-5 | Ice Cream for Breakfast
Tumblr media Tumblr media
{Trigger Warning/Themes Masterlist} This is split into a billion parts because it's long as hell! Read on Ao3 to avoid the headache!
Tumblr media
The uptown warehouse turned gentrified party spot thrummed with heavy bass and colored lights. A mile long snack table lines one edge of the room, parallel to one stacked high with gifts. Almost every person in your grade that you could stand was there, along with a healthy smattering of ‘family friends’.
Several of your older guests were in and out, but made sure to greet you with kissed cheeks and generic comments about how much you’ve grown.
You didn’t bat an eye at the quick goodbyes, all too aware that even you couldn’t expect Superman clear his schedule on your birthday.
He earned his beads all the same, only stopping on his way out to boast about his birthday points to your bead-less father.
Lost in your snickering, you hardly noticed the figure that approached you from behind. 
Jonathan Kent wore a sheepish smile as he wished you a happy birthday. For a moment you found yourself shocked into total silence, having recognized his bright blue eyes and dark hair, but completely taken aback by his newfound height.
Puberty had hit you like a train, but it had hit Jon like a Kryptonian.
“Jon?! Jesus, you’re like a whole foot taller!” You laughed, pulling him into a hug. “Does Damian know? He’s going to be so pissed.”
“You look pretty great yourself,” he returns, shouting over the music.
“I know, right?” You can’t help but do a little spin, your plastic tiara and polyester ‘Birthday Girl’ sash clashing with your outfit. 
As soon as you’re done showing off, you grab his hands in yours and lead him to the dance floor. “Come on, let’s dance!”
You can’t help but notice that the steps he takes are much longer than yours. He must be something like six-foot-five.
Checkerboard LED tiles flash to the beat, silhouetting your guests in its neon light. You only know less than half of them, and of those people, most were more familiar with your brothers than with you. You try not to think about how sad that makes you feel, opting to fill yourself up with the compliments and birthday wishes they holler as you pass. You can feel the bass beneath your feet as you move with Jon, pulled out of your head by his laughter.
 He’s clumsy, sometimes tripping over his own feet in a way that almost makes you forget that he's an indestructible superhero. 
It doesn't seem to bother or embarrass him, and you can't help but envy that earnest Kent confidence he seems to absolutely sparkle with.
 “I can’t believe you’re wearing a tiara!” His unruly curls fall in his face as he moves with you, a charming grin plastered on his face. Jon laces your fingers together, spinning you in a purposefully ungraceful manner just to make you laugh.
It works.
You successfully fight the urge to play it off, hoping to match his confidence by owning up your silly choice in birthday accessories. “What’s wrong with it? I look adorable!” 
“You always look adorable!”
“Oh yeah?” You ask, hair falling out of place as you move to the song.
“Yeah!” He nods, pulling you close. “No amount of gaudy birthday junk could make you any less lovely!”
You wonder if he knows that the creeping warmth in your cheeks isn't solely caused by the heat in the room. 
“Oh my god, you’re so sweet!”
The modest heel of your shoe barely assists you as you throw your arms around his neck, using what little slight of hand you kept from your Robin days to slip the rest of your beads onto him.
“Damian doesn’t deserve you!” You joke, poised to kiss his cheek before you’re yanked back by your sash. Somehow you manage to steady yourself before you totally eat it, and you turn to face a furious Silas.
“What the fuck?” He asks, gesturing between you and Jon- who, to his credit, posts up behind you in support.
Thankfully the guests around you seem undisturbed. While you knew it wasn't okay for Silas to pull on you like that, you were more concerned that it was happening in front of an audience. For the first time in a while, you were thankful that none of your brothers were around to witness the budding scene. 
“That wasn’t very nice of you,” Jon frowns, setting his hands on your shoulders. “Is there something you need?”
“It’s okay, Jon.” You manage, patting his hand.
Silas grabs the wrist of your other hand, pulling you through the party. You don't resist, keeping your shoulders from tensing and your heart from racing. You'd much rather deal with this in private, beneath the radar of your more protective guests. Otherwise, this could get ugly. Fast.
Panic and confusion twists in your gut and you wave off a concerned looking Jon, calling over your shoulder as you’re led into a stairwell. 
“Go try a cupcake! I’ll be right there!”
Part 6
3 notes · View notes
trikeyaredilfs · 2 years
Text
Michael Realizing Trevor is Autistic:
“He just does this-!” Michael mimicked the hand movements of Trevor before returning his elbows to the countertop.
“I don’t know, Mandy, I think he finally fried his brain.”
Amanda swirled the wine around in her glass a few times, seemingly lost in thought.
“And you said he was asking you to sit on him?” She asks returning her gaze to him.
“Maybe he’s got a fetish for it, I mean, it’s Trevor.” He wraps his hand around his whiskey glass, quickly downing some of it before setting it back down. He rubs the bridge of his nose, groaning.
“Have you ever considered the man might be autistic?” Amanda asks, taking another sip of wine. “Autistic?” Michael parrots, furrowing his brow. “Like that thing kids get? He doesn’t exactly fit that criteria, Mandy.”
Amanda considers downing the rest of the wine in the bottle, dumbfounded yet absolutely unsurprised by his response. “No, jackass.” She almost laughs. “I mean, he doesn’t understand social cues, his moral compass is nearly nonexistent, he definitely does not understand societal norms, he wears the same clothes…for however long that is, he doesn’t understand gender expectations, he is obsessed with that stupid superhero figure-“ with each observation she holds up a finger. “And above all of that, he was so obsessed with you, he literally spent 10 years, knowing you were supposedly dead trying to find you. He cannot keep focus on a single thing and yet the one thing he can, and somehow did better than the actual FIB was finding you.”
Amanda stares at him blankly, this time popping the cork on her wine bottle and picking it up before taking a long swig. She swallows noisily, setting the bottle back down before walking out into the other room. Bringing a large book back with her. “My kid has autism; the guide for parents” was plastered in obnoxiously colorful letters on the front.
“Here. Take this and read it, Michael.” Amanda said holding it toward him.
“This whole book?” He whines slightly.
“Could you actually try with Trevor? The one person who genuinely loves you more than they do themselves and you’re whining over a book. The least you could do is help him.” Amanda retorts.
Michael clenches his jaw but exhales. “Alright, Amanda. Thank you.” He looks at the book again. “Wait, why do we have this?”
“There was a shrink back in North Yankton that thought Jimmy had it. Never really seemed to respond to anything abnormally, so I just decided to let him be Jimmy.”
“Thanks, Mandy, y’know,I think I like this arrangement. Just talking.” He says,half smiling. Taking another drink of his whiskey.
“Just wait until we can manage it sober.” She snorts.
“I’ll drink to that.” Michael says, raising his glass.
-
Michael glances to the clock, 2 am.
He had been reading this book for nearly 3 hours now, making notes off to the side. He yawns, pulling off his bifocals, something that never left the office because he refused to reveal further evidence of his age.
He rubs his eyes with his palms, before standing up to stretch his stiff legs. From the corner of the room, Trevor emerges. “Whatcha been readin’ there, Mikey?”
Michael nearly jumps out of his skin. “Jesus! You’re going to give me a fuckin’ heart attack, T. How the fuck did you even get in here?”
“Window was open, I climbed in. You’re avoiding the question though, what were you reading?” Trevor approaches the desk. Michael moves in front of him. “It’s just a…history textbook. Jimmy was curious about a war and-“
“Jimmy has an IFruit. He could just look it up on eyefind. I don’t really appreciate the shadiness, Mikey. I thought we were over secrets?” Trevor pushes past him and flips the book’s cover closed a moment, reading it.
“Who the hell is autistic?”
Michael stays quiet, chewing on the inside of his cheek, trying to think of a good way to phrase what is in his mind.
Trevor picks up the notebook beside the book, reading through Michael’s neat handwriting. Specifically one set of lines caught his eye.
Stimming, a method of self stimulation: Trevor’s stims: rocking, nail-biting and hand-flapping
Trevor stares at the paper, his eyebrows furrowed but his expression ultimately blank. He flipped through a few pages.
“Listen, T… I wanted to sit and talk-“ Michael starts, Trevor simply puts his finger up, still reading the pages intensely.
After a few moments he sets the notebook down, looking at Michael. Michael couldn’t tell what was going through Trevor’s head, he seemed way too calm at the moment. “Talk.” Trevor hisses.
“I-“ Michael starts, his mouth feeling suddenly incredibly dry. “I just wanted to understand you better, Trevor. I noticed all of these things that you do and I didn’t understand why they were happening. Then Amanda gave me this book, and I’m trying to read it because maybe it is what’s happening, but I didn’t want to just assume.” He explains, finally looking away from Trevor. “I’m sorry, T, really.”
Trevor’s once deadpan face breaks with a slight grin. “Mikey, that’s sweet.” Trevor laughs. “But I know I’m autistic. I could’ve told you that. I figured that out when I was going to that shrink after you died.”
“…and you didn’t tell me?” Michael looked more hurt than confused.
“You never asked, Mikey. Plus it just kind of slipped my mind.” Shrugged Trevor. “But, I do like that you tried to understand my fucked up mind, sugartits, it’s actually pretty hot.”
“And there goes the severity of this conversation.” Michael chuckles, pushing past Trevor and getting into bed.
“Are you gonna finally lay on me now?”
“Not a chance.”
32 notes · View notes
scenetocause · 1 year
Note
Dunno if you’re still taking requests but !! Mando with 5 or 20 would be brill please 🥺
a few people asked for 20 and for some reason i can't think of anything for it so 5 it is.
"Bob-" Max gets shoved against the couch, air pushed out of his lungs and replaced with the heavy weight of Lando.
It's ridiculous, Max keeps reminding him he's bigger than him now and Max isn't, like, completely indestructible. Does actually have needs, like breathing but Lando seems convinced it's fine to just lie on him as though he's still half Max's size.
It's probably at least a little because Max lets him. His arms go around Lando, automatically, pulling him closer so Max can smell his sweaty hair and humid hoodie he for some reason insisted on working out in even though it's like, July.
Lando tucks himself onto and into Max like they're interlocking blocks. Pieces of Lego that only connect to each other. Lando's face is smashed into his neck and his legs are somehow wrapped around Max's thighs and Max really wants to kiss him but that would mean moving again, when Lando's finally stopped wriggling.
"I had a call," he says, quietly. "Like, it's not - much but like, I need a new manager and he said he reckoned there was a chance of - F2. I don't know."
Lando squeezes him tighter. Max carries on.
"I'm not getting my hopes up but like, he knows what he's doing and it'd be, y'know, the whole team's funded by some useless, rich fucker and I'm doing all the setups and whatnot but I could. I reckon that could work, for a bit."
Lando snickers into Max's neck but stays quiet, kisses him just below his ear.
"So, yeah. I'm gonna go into London tomorrow and like, have a look at contracts and things. It'd be nice to drive again."
He gets squeezed again, then hot, wet lips against the skin at his collarbone, sucking a hickey. "Bob, don't make me go to a meeting with a love bite."
Lando just snickers again and continues, regardless. Max will have to wear a hoodie, so he's stealing one of his. It's only fair.
Later, after a shower, they're getting down to some steamy kissing in bed. Like, properly tonguing each other and Max really loves just making out, having Lando's hands in his hair and focussing on slow, sexy kissing. Lando's hot, always has been and it gets Max going ridiculously fast that he's horny about this too.
Eventually, Lando shimmies down his body, pushes Max's hips into the bed and he knows what's about to happen. Lando's approach to blow jobs is - unstructured, to say the least and frankly kind of bizarre, definitely not like the handful of other people who've ever sucked Max off but like everything else about them he's learned to like it best. Lando starts by going to town sucking his balls, then just plays with Max's dick, pumping it slowly and kitten-licking to make precum bead at the tip, so Lando can swipe it away with his tongue. Then he actually sucks it for like, fifteen seconds maximum and if he'd made it to twenty Max probably could have come but, alas.
It's when Lando's kind of making out with his dick, lips moving along the shaft and kissing gently at the head, that he suddenly feels it building, tries to say something to warn him but Lando just looks up, impish and Max comes all up his own stomach. It's a good orgasm, it always is with them and it takes him a few moments to get control of his limbs, pull Lando up to cuddle.
"I know I already said congratulations but - it's for that." Lando kisses him on the nose with dick breath and Max can't even be bothered to be mad.
He's still a bit focussed, though. "You actually didn't say that, Bob but thank you." He rubs their cheeks together, feeling brain-emptied from coming. "I love you."
"Yeah, I love you too." Lando pulls him closer. "How long until I can fuck you?"
"Jesus-" Max flails for a pillow to hit him with. "Alright."
17 notes · View notes
Note
hi, ray 😊! dead of night, you said 👀🖤?
Tumblr media
@energievie hello. okayyy so i touched on it a little a while ago, but it’s a country au that’s super loosely inspired by dead of night by orville peck. i’ve got the makings of a little setting inspiration tag, but that’s about it for visuals.
this scene is super early on. for context, it’s the morning after ian reluctantly let him stay in his barn for the night (but not before pointing a shotgun at him, of course) so they haven’t actually talked yet:
As he steps out of the barn doors, Mickey brings a hand up to shade his eyes, but still manages to squint in the sunlight that washes over him while he tracks the open land for the source of the sound.
It doesn’t take him long to find it - a few steps out from a fenced in area between the barn and the house that sits further back. Crouched in front of a dirty pail, scrubber in hand, is where he finds him. The guy who nearly blew his fucking head off last night.
Mickey’s mouth twitches at the corner, something like dread seeping in him from the inside out, but his feet carry him across the grass all the same. With every step he takes, the dread thickens. Seeps. But oddly enough, so does his curiosity.
Because each step brings him closer to his reluctant rescuer. Sharpens him up. Reveals details that the moon left out last night when Mickey was pinned up against the barn wall with a barrel under his chin.
For one thing, his hair is surprisingly intense - fiery red and slicked back from the sweat he’s already managed to work up so early in the morning. The line of pails before him is long. Gritty to his left. Sparkling clean to his right. A testament to the tight flex of biceps under his t-shirt as he scrubs.
He’s been at this for a while.
Mickey’s boots trample down the grass as he approaches, and if a spike of interest shoots through him as his next step draws that attention up and onto him, it’s only because of how sharp those eyes are.
The scrub brush halts in a firm grip.
Settles everything into silence between the two of them, that gaze guarded. Getting a good look at Mickey for the first time. 
“Need my gun back.” Mickey says it with authority. No frills. This place has fulfilled its purpose and now he’s gotta keep moving.
A handful of feet away, his demand is being weighed over. Silently. 
It’s a stand-off.
Mickey digs his heels in.
And then.
His instincts kick in just in time for a second scrub brush to fumble  awkwardly and wetly into his hands. For the pail to thunk heavily at his feet. 
Mickey scans over them, and then looks back up to the guy in question.
The scrubbing fills the air again. Eyes cast down and arms working.
Mickey’s mouth twitches at the corner again, his lips tight as he brings the brush away from the now-soaked front of his shirt. Alright. He knows an arrangement when he sees one. He’s paid off a debt or two in his day. 
The water in the washbucket is warm from the sun when he walks over to dunk his brush in and bring it back. He expects the awkward discomfort of crouching in jeans to scrub god-knows-what from the pail. What he doesn’t expect, is to hear that voice again.
“Where you from?” 
It’s strong, but cautious. Wary, but friendly, like that’s its default state and it’s hard to shake, even under these circumstances. 
Mickey focuses on the task at hand. “All over.” 
He scours the metal sides without looking up. Even as the voice floats back over to him on the breeze. 
“Got a name?” 
“Uh huh.” 
And even with all the deflecting, Mickey’s skin is starting to tingle under scrutinizing green eyes. It makes him wanna say fuck a debt repaid and just demand his gun back again so he can bail.
But when he looks up from his hold around the bucket, his breath a little labored from the early-morning workout, it’s something oddly endearing that he sees in those pinched brows and that jutting chin.
Jesus. “You can unclench, Farmer Dan. I ain’t gonna cross ya.” 
The pouty looks drops off at the callout, but his chin stays good and clenched while he says it. Convinced. “Look like trouble, is all.” 
Mickey should be pissed. That should insult him, and it kinda does. But more than that, it has his gaze lingering for a moment, taking his rescuer in with his own open judgement. “Yeah?” he says, “Well I won’t be trouble for you, how ‘bout that…” 
It doesn’t seem to convince him at all. Not even a little bit. And Mickey can’t say he blames the guy.
Maybe, just maybe, before he gets outta here and back on the road, he can be just the right amount of trouble for him.
15 notes · View notes
unknownjpegs · 3 months
Text
tourist trap
The bus stops, at Matilda’s request, at some shit tourist shop. It boasts a claim (unlikely to be true) to a world-record, and their keyboardist was a moth to a blue-light bug zapper when it came to campy little wonders like that.
“We have to stop,” she’d intoned solemnly to Lark, who had done his due diligence in sighing but given in anyway.
Really, everyone was glad for the space to move about, stretch their legs. Benji was no different — but he’d quickly grown tired of roaming endless aisles of useless trinkets, trying on ugly camouflage caps, and pretending not to see Mouse tuck all manner of cheaply made goods into the massive pockets of her borrowed jacket.
So he heads back first. The plastic bag in his fist swings heavy as he moves back across the massive parking lot towards the bus. It’s filled with energy drinks and snacks…in addition to the ugliest hat that he had managed to find. ‘Gone fishing’ on the front, a tasteful departing ‘…with your mom!’ printed in dripping horror font to the back.
Xavier will like it. Should make up for the fact that he’s likely woken up to an empty parked bus. He’d been asleep when they piled off, even dozed through Mouse’s shriek of delight at the light-up cryptid prancing across the store’s neon sign.
But Xavier is awake now. Benji can see him, even at the distance, leaning against the middle window. He feels a smile split his face and begins moving faster, his new brisk pace uncontrollable. Not that he would want to — sometimes, being separated for even twenty minutes feels too fucking long.
*
He approaches sneakily. His boots crunch in a particular rhythm on the gravel as he rounds the bus, eyes trained towards Xavier’s beacon of bright, sleep-mussed hair barely visible from the angle. He’s sat at the linoleum table, elbows up, his shoulders relaxed in a slight curve with a fist under his chin. Benji loves that — loves all those little habits and quirks. It looks as if he’s watching something on his phone, the way his face is illuminated in the bus’s low interior light.
River Monsters ‘funny moments’ compilation. Some stream of a hockey game he missed that Matilda helped him pirate. Speed run of a game he doesn’t play, that he’s not even watching, just likes the loopy techno soundtrack.
Slipping silently around the bus and onboard is easy. Piece of cake, he hears in Xavier’s drawling, clipped accent. Benji has the experience of youth, sneakiness from an obstacle course of teenage ego. He’d gotten good at sneaking out. Sneaking, in general.
“Boo.”
And of course, Xavier fucking jumps.
“Jesus Christ!”
He shoves himself back into the seat, shoulders bunched up and a hand over his racing heart. Benji feels, as he always does, just a bit bad for getting him that good — it’s just that he scares so cute, how can he not? The immediate and intense wash of red to his cheeks, once he sees Benji’s smug, humored expression, is also cute. He loves watching it happen, and likes even more to follow the flush down. Because it always spreads down, all the way to his chest. It’ll prettily spread even more if he’s a bit nasty, which he’s tempted to be.
Xavier presses the back of a hand to his cheek, embarrassed smile slowly creeping onto his face. If he didn’t reward Benji like that, with that glowing beam of a smile, he wouldn’t keep scaring him. Easy as.
“Gotcha,” he says cheerfully, closing the distance between them. Xavier’s eyes track him, his whole chin tilting back as Benji settles in front of him. He twists his knees and scoots forward, slightly out of the seat, to bring them closer. A broad palm traces up his back, lingering in the hollow of his spine, and Benji shivers.
“What if I had a heart condition? You never know when it’s gonna be the scare that —” Xavier blows a raspberry and snaps his fingers. “Pfft. Takes me out.”
Benji sucks his teeth. “Would be a shame. You dead for real, then?”
“Nah, just fainted.” Another hand joins the caress up and down his back.
“Ah, I see. All right then, we just do mouth to mouth. Oooh.” He teases, palms resting on Xavier’s shoulders. “Look at that blush. You tryin’ to kiss me or something, mate?”
Xavier pinches his hip and then rests his temple on Benji’s stomach. “Did you bring me snacks?”
The plastic sack gets hefted between them and swayed teasingly. Xavier whoops in delight and then gathers Benji forward to kiss at his knuckles holding it. And that — fuck, if it doesn’t make him even more affectionate. He’s always shocked that feeling can intensify; but then again, Xavier always finds ways to do it.
He leans down and presses their mouths together. Just a peck, really. Xavier makes a nose that indicates he’d like another, but Benji withdraws.
“Can’t believe you didn’t hear the door open.”
Xavier responds by tucking three fingers and then a whole fist into the neckline of his shirt. The force of his tug down is unnecessarily hard — Benji hears a thread rip. And it’s unnecessary because Benji will always go easily. Without a single fucking complaint.
He’s certainly got none as a few kisses are pressed to his mouth, his cheeks.
“Nap alright?”
Well, that’s what he tries to say anyway. What he manages to get out, against Xavier’s onslaught, is a faint mumble accompanied with a laugh. He pulls away — has to struggle a bit to do it, hands enclosing Xavier’s wrist and then pawing at them to push off when he won’t relent.
“Shit, Xavier. Can’t fucking breathe,” he laughs. “Relax, yeah? We were out for like…thirty, tops.”
“Hm.” Xavier hums. The grip in his shirt slackens, but Benji stays in place regardless because that hand drags a repetitive, hypnotizingly warm line up and down the center of his chest. “Missed you anyway. You smell nice.”
He snorts out another laugh. “I smell like—“ Benji glances over his shoulder at the massive store. “Cheese surplus and corn syrup. Why’s America got a surplus of cheese, anyway?”
*
Xavier proceeds to give him an animated explanation of American tourist stores just like that. Must-sees because of how inane their contents, how funny their advertising. And when Xavier pulls his phone closer to show Benji one of his own local tourist-trap commercials, they both pause when its screen comes into view.
“I —“
He’s never been somebody’s lock screen before. So when he’d noticed a blurry candid of his own face on Xavier’s shattered screen, it’d been a gut punch. When he’d spotted a different candid the next week, that had been worse. Better? Sometimes Xavier’s sheer, unapologetic appreciation made him wary. Defensive. He hadn’t been conditioned to react in any other way than: are you fucking manipulating me? Are you letting me see that so I think you care more than you do? Is this some elaborate thing? Not that he think Xavier would; it’d just happened before.
But the picture, a browser window that Xavier evidently forgot to close, isn’t a candid. It’s a professional thing. Several years old, judging by the softer circles under his eyes.
You weren’t watching goofy fucking YouTube videos, Benji realizes as they stare at the screen together, equal parts awkward and caught-out. You were looking at me?
At an old promotional photoshoot thing for an album that hadn’t sold especially well to begin with — not one of their group pictures, but Benji alone. He hadn’t liked that shoot, had felt strange and bare and seen in the fucking ridiculous thing they’d put him in. And that by itself had been enough to feel as though he’d been covered in a layer of grime. He knew that the point was to look good; for this one, seductive even. He’d hated that at first. Felt too intimate, too personal. Then, the pictures were shared for approval and he…
Well. He’d liked them. He knew he was attractive, always been told that plenty, could usually tell when someone thought so. But those photos had helped him realize that there was little else that felt as good as looking at yourself without picking something apart.
He imagines himself turning Xavier’s face and asking him all the questions going through his head. I’m not fishing for compliments, but…What do you like about it? I think my hair looks nice. Lighting, too. Makes the shirt pop — or, I guess, it’s not quite a shirt, is it? Knowing you, that’s probably what’s got your attention.
And like that, any lingering anxiety washes out of him.
“That’s a really fucking old ones.” He says conversationally.
Xavier’s mouth snaps shut, green eyes widening slightly before his fingers unconsciously try to cover the screen. He’s looking away from Benji, hand tucked in a shy, uncomfortable version of its tuck under his chin.
“Two albums ago.” Benji continues when he doesn’t speak. “Feels like forever, hoo. Only…what? Five years?”
When Benji raises both arms from his lap and lays them across the table, Xavier snatches the phone closer.
Don’t laugh at me, his contrite, mulish expression pleads.
“I think it’s sweet.” Benji says softly. He takes care not to let any of his amusement bleed, although he feels it. Xavier would take that the wrong way, right now. “It is sweet, Xavier, okay? Don’t do that.”
They regard each other as Benji pries his hand away from his jaw, winds their fingers together. He expects a deeper blush. MAaybe another second of shyly drifting focus. Instead, Xavier pins him with an intense stare. The mess of shame and caught! and undeniable heat is within.
“You’re giving me a little too much credit, dude.”
“How’s that?”
“I’m not being sweet about it, you know?”
Benji’s smile curls. He leans forward across the table to knock their foreheads together, cupping the back of Xavier’s skull. He lowers his voice to a horrified whisper. “No fuckin’ way you were thinking of having a wank, Xavier?”
“Fuck you.”
Benji tosses his head back and laughs before standing and rounding to his side. “Love you.” He shoots back, but dodges Xavier’s grabbing hands. He positions himself at his back, behind the booth seat Xavier has slumped into.
“Heh, nice,” Xavier giggles, his broad shoulders heaving, and tilts his chin back to bring their eyes together.
“Fuck, you’re cute.” Benji sighs. “And this — your phone? That? You make me feel fucking mental.”
“Same.” Xavier whines. “I wish —“
And Xavier lets commentary spill, then. Things that have been a bit unsaid but obvious between them. He wants more time together, he’s tired and exhausted, he sees Benji is tired and exhausted; he wants to sleep, wants to sleep with Benji, wants to sleep, really sleep, together. He wants Benji, he wants more moments like this.
Benji feels lightheaded when his babbling finally cuts off. Emotionally devastating to hear, yeah, but he’s also — he’s looking at the spray of freckles across Xavier’s nose, where his blush is pinkest. He needs to feel that. And what that is, he isn’t sure. The warmth? He sighs and slips his hands up into russet strands, bends so he can tuck his mouth to Xavier’s pulse.
“I miss you all the time,” Xavier admits on a tiny, whining sigh of his own. “Even, like, when you’re right here? I want it to be just us. Does that make sense? Is that stupid or selfish or —?”
“It’s not stupid. I get it. I do, Xavier. I know.”
His mouth stays in place while he leans forward, slipping both hands down Xavier’s chest. When he reaches the bottom of his silly, worn-in cotton t-shirt, he tucks a couple fingers into the waistband of his jeans and tugs. Xavier takes the hint: he squirms a bit, shuffling to slump back into Benji’s chest, head resting on his shoulder. His eyes are big and glossy, face still flushed. That touch me? expression.
“You do?”
“Of course I fucking do.” He laughs roughly. “It’s not stupid. And I don’t care if it’s selfish. Feel that way about you, too. Always want another five minutes alone.”
He traces nails down Xavier’s stomach slowly. It’s an agonizing pace that he can barely manage to maintain; when they’re close and within range of each other, all Benji ever feels like doing as long as they’re alone is touch.
“M’not chatting shit.”
Xavier hums, lifting his back from the seat a little into wandering fingers. He gets a mean rake of blunt nails up his side, which expands on a ragged moan. Free and loud and messy.
“Ohfuck,” Xavier gasps.
Sometimes I really am selfish. Like really, really selfish. I look at you and think all kinda possessive, nasty shit that I don’t think I should. Like, you’re so fucking wonderful — and shouldn’t that mean I need to want you to share that with people, spread joy or whatever? But look at that. Got me on your phone. Got that on your phone. You selfish too, Xavier?
Benji’s smiling into his neck as he pulls the shirt higher, hands slid all the way up to the warm, firm muscle of a freckled chest. He cups there teasingly for a moment, waiting for the writhe forward, then squeezes hard. Xavier makes another awful little noise. He thrashes his head, nearly bloodying Benji’s lip in the process.
“We have probably ten minutes until everybody gets bored and starts headin’ back here,” Benji denies when Xavier takes his wrist and tries to pull it lower.
“Ten minutes is enough,” he laughs thinly, pale throat bobbing. “Trust me. Ten minutes is e-fucking-nough right now.”
“It is not enough. Trust me.” Benji deadpans against the crown of his soft hair. He drops the end of the sentence with another mean squeeze, and that’s when Xavier starts moving for real. “You all right?”
“You’re being mean,” he whines. A hand roams to close atop Benji’s over his rucked up shirt, keeping his hand in place. “Do that again and we’ll have eight minutes to spare. Please.”
His desperation boils Benji from the inside out. Feels like someone is peeling away his soft layer, at the edges of exhaustion and frustration and accentuates that bone-deep desire to be in his own fucking bed. To have Xavier there. And once those soft bits have pulled back, it leaves something a little mean in its place.
“That right?” He drags his tongue over Xavier’s tilted chin, bites jokingly at his jaw. “We’re onto begging already?”
“If you shut up, we can be onto — I can be on…wait —“
Benji pulls back two steps, freeing Xavier’s spine from the lean of warm weight.
“Benji —?”
“Nah, you wanna do it that bad? G’head.” He sucks in a steadying breath through his teeth, tries to keep the hitch of it quiet. “Make it so pretty while you do, huh?”
It’s immediate. Xavier doesn’t even hesitate a moment. Benji didn’t expect it to — sweet boy, still has all that military left in him. Won’t let him deny an order for long at all, and that’s still one he doesn’t want to obey. When he does, he’s quick about it.
So Xavier whines and snaps his head back, looking at Benji upside down. His eyes are hooded and intense, darkly focused with a bit of a shine, and his lip is caught between his teeth.
“Fuck. Please? Please, Benji. This is — I keep telling you I’m going to actually lose my mind one of these days, dude.” He starts to turn. “I need a warning before you get all —“
Benji reaches up and taps his chin to the side, guided gently to the front cabin of the bus. “Face forward.”
Xavier’s head snaps into place, quick because he can’t deny the order. “Fuck.” He mutters, and Benji has the pleasure of watching goosebumps race up his arms. “Hn. Like that. That is exactly what I’m talking about.”
“Hands up on the table, handsome.”
Xavier’s jaw works, his teeth gritting for a moment. Then he lifts big, pale hands to slowly spread over the tabletop. “I was gonna —“
“What, touch yourself?” Benji snorts. “Yeah, covered that.”
“Maybe.” Xavier cheeks. He’s got a coy grin on.
“Figured.” Benji watches the blush drop down beneath his neckline. It is deliberately frustrating, holding himself back from touching. He wants to put his nose there, feel the warmth of the color, make it fade white under the pinch of his teeth. “You know what to do, then.”
Xavier gulps.
Please be quick about it, though. You give in, then I can. I need it bad, too. Sometimes I feel like I need it worse. Haven’t had that, either. Felt that way. Like I might need it more.
“Got a word?”
Xavier nods, that smile going a little sweeter. The softness melts in with his obvious anticipation. “Twizzler.”
Benji grants him a kiss on the forehead for that. “Put your hand on your zipper. No goin’ under.” They both groan as Xavier does as told, his head digging back into Benji’s chest a bit. “Give it a little squeeze, then, c’mon.”
Xavier does that too, a cracking moan slipping out of his open mouth. Benji’s eyes flick up to the store — nothing, yet. Everyone’s still occupied.
“What were you doing, ‘fore I came out here?” Benji drifts a hand up over his chest, cupping gently over the front of his throat. “Huh?”
“Hah — I was going to, uh.”
“Yeah?”
“Fuck you. Oh, fuck. I was going to…you know.”
When Xavier stares up at him a beat too long, silent, Benji finds a fistful of hair and tugs. “S’not enough detail. Come on. What’s the rest?”
“Man,” Xavier manages to find his voice, clearing his throat. Benji feels it bob beneath his middle finger. “When you get like this —“
Benji yanks again. Much harder this time than that slight warning fist. Xavier melts into the dramatic angle, his cheek smushed against Benji’s shoulder. He leans further down to put his mouth to Xavier’s ear.
“That’s not detail, Xavier. Say it.” His mouth brushes a smooth, warm cheek.
The hand Xavier still has against the counter digs in, fingers bending like he needs something to grab. His back arches off the seat. “Oh. I — fuck. Um. I thought you looked so hot, I looked them up.” He whimpers, pausing to bite his lip. “So I could look at you.”
Benji grants him another kiss. Grants several, actually. He dots a line of them down his cheek, stopping right before his mouth, and darts them off to the side towards his neck.
“And?”
Xavier swallows, voice small and shy when he amends: “And jack off.”
Benji grins, cataloging the sultry lidded eyes locke on him, how dark his pupils have gone. “Wish I could properly tell you how fuckin’ hot that is.”
“The — the getting off?” His hand hasn’t moved in his own lap because Benji hasn’t given him the order, but the tendons in his wrist flex like he wants to. “Because I can definitely do that right now, if you just let —“
“Nah. I mean, yeah, the wankin’ is hot, but it’s more so that you’ve got me on your phone like that.” He pets over Xavier’s cheek, gentles a pet over parted lips before pulling it away. “It’s sweet.”
Xavier stomps his fucking feet then, head looser on his neck. He sounds properly frustrated when he laughs, and there’s a bit of wetness at the corners of his eyes. It doesn’t make Benji cringe. Or pity him. He loves seeing the physical reaction Xavier gets to things. Visceral, to want something enough to be moved to tears. Benji can barely fathom that something might be him.
“I want it so bad.”
Yeah, how bad? Tell me. What do you want, Xavier? You want my cock, is that it? Want me to touch yours? Or do you want something sweeter?
He might ask all those things. Might yet. But for now he settles on the brutal truth as it soaks up his chest, none of the seductive words or playful tease.
“Me too.”
He trails kisses over Xavier’s cheek, his nose, pausing to scrape his teeth there in a fake bite that has Xavier fighting a giggle.
“We’re close, at least.”
Xavier snorts. “I sure fuckin’ am.”
“Dickhead.” He laughs. “To the end of tour, I meant. Can’t wait.”
He glances up again, chin resting on Xavier’s shoulder as he scopes out just how far they can take this. How much time they’ve got — because it’s always a game of finding spare seconds, minutes, maybe two of each. Over the concrete, their friends pour from the shop. Mouse tugs on her shirt while Matilda fixes a stray piece of her hair, Ewan and Lark trailing behind them with arms loaded heavy by their shopping haul.
Minute and a half, maybe.
Benji folds back over Xavier’s shoulders, hand pressed to the one over his zipper hard enough he gasps.
“Can’t wait,” he repeats, consonants clipped as they snap out from between his teeth. “Wanna hear what I’m gonna wank it to, ‘til then?”
“No.” Xavier whines. “Please. Come on, Benji.”
“Come on Benji? Yeah, probably that. Good idea.”
“Benji —“
“Is thinking about gettin’ your whole fuckin’ cock down my throat.” He grins into Xavier’s neck, tongue out to lavish over his pulse. “That’s what.”
Xavier’s breath wheezes out and he holds it, chest motionless. He stares straight ahead for a second and then drops his chin with a harsh, whimpering sigh. The inhalation goes sharp, and when he relaxes, he tilts back to stare at Benji.
“Don’t you fucking —“
“Holy shit.” Benji barrels on, pressing their hands down to the obvious outline. “Can’t think too hard about it, y’know? You’re pretty like that. I love looking up at you. Watching your face when you gag me.”
His name slips into the air, floating off an insane whine. “Oh.”
“Do you like watching too? Huh, gorgeous? I think you do. I think I could just sit there and you’d cum. That’s nasty, Xavier. But it’s hot, yeah? You’re so hot.” He purrs it directly into Xavier’s ear.
And when Xavier’s other hand jerks away from the table, shoots down to try and join where their hands alread are, Benji reaches out and catches it. He twines their fingers together, slamming it back down to the table. It rattles. Xavier breathes harder.
For a moment, the only sound is both of their panting. Xavier’s puffs out against his cheek, chin pushed into the meat of his shoulder so hard the knit pattern imprints on his skin when he pulls away.
“Dude.” He stares down at their joined hands. His eyes flit up, descend, up again to hold Benji’s gaze. His brow is tight, lips bitten red.
“Close?”
“Wow. Jesus, you fucking suck. Wicked fucking evil.” He laughs thinly. “That was almost — you’re too…shit. I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”
The stampede of feet becomes audible, and the bus door hisses. Xavier sways in place when Benji peels away, straightening.
“Gonna think about it later?” He asks, slipping back into place on the opposite side of the table. “I sure am.”
“Benji.”
“Xavier.” Benji praises, reaching forward to take his hand and press a kiss to his knuckles. “Atta boy, huh? You’ll look good doin’ it.”
Xavier opens his mouth to respond, but on cue everyone spills into the aisle.
“Twizzler.” Benji mutters teasingly as they all pass to their respective bunks. He tucks his hand into his (Xavier’s) hoodie, and sinks low enough in the booth seat to kick his leg up. His heel lands right between Xavier’s knees, which part slightly. Xavier glances down at it. They stare at each other, Benji’s brow quirked and a smirk on his face.
“Good nap?”
Ewan has pauses in front of Xavier, who blinks rapidly and then glances up to offer him an unsteady smile.
“Not really,” he says, back straightening suddenly. Benji has the sole of his boot closer between his thighs under the table. “It was actually so shitty, because I can’t find one fucking second of peace on this tour, and —“ He breaks off with another jolt as Benji increases the pressure.
“Sounds like you need another,” Ewan says, concerning touching his features briefly before he rolls his eyes. “Grumpier than Benji, s’crazy.”
“You want us to stop for the night?” Lark puts his hands on his hips, looking every inch concerned and protective.
“Nah.” Benji answers for him. “Xavier’s gettin’ us an Uber right now, actually. We decided to do a hotel. Just meet up with you in the morning. Right, Xavier?”
He adjusts his knee at the same time he speaks, toe forward to offer more pressure for Xavier to rock against.
“Hotel.” Their security says intelligently. “Yeah.”
Lark scrunches his nose, looking between them. Staring at Xavier, like he might glean out the truth, but Xavier is pointedly not making eye contact. “Why? We’re already —“
“Context clues, baby!” Matilda calls, poking her messy head from Mouse’s bunk, where they’d crawled like squirrels with a haul of food for the winter. He hears their bassist’s evil giggling, the crinkle of some junk food wrapper.
“Ew.” Lark says as delayed realization dawns, his face scrunching in disgust.
Benji can’t help the burst of laughter, tipping his head back as it shakes him. Xavier makes a huffy sort of whine that might be amusement — or annoyance that Benji’s boot has fallen to the floor. His knees spread, sinking him petulantly lower in the booth. He looks so fucking charming with that pout on.
“Lark, don’t get me started.” Xavier huffs.
“Yeah, Lark. I mean. Oooh, Elias!” Mouse moans theatrically, and then her voice breaks off into a series of shouting, hysterical giggles as Matilda undoubtedly tackles her within their nest. They must wrestle so hard they knock their heads, because there’s a twin thump! before both of them whine in pain.
“Hotel will be nice.” Benji says mildly to his flustered boyfriend. “Away from this lot of mental cases.”
“Fuck you.” Xavier mutters without heat, clearly fighting a smile.
0 notes
neopuppy · 3 years
Text
Dive Into You: Part 2. (M)
Tumblr media
Preview: “You’re not seriously just fucking with her to get back at me are you? It’s not like everyones talking about you being dads problem child here.” Jeno’s arms fold over his chest. Bicep muscles straining under tight sleeves.
“Shouldn’t you be happy? I’m allowing you to spend alone time with your church girl. You should be thanking me nono.”
Pairing: brothers Jeno/Haechan x female reader
Word Count: 3.8k
Genre: pwp, church boys AU, smut, love triangle, brothers nohyuck
Warning: daddy issues, sacrilegious themes, explicit language, master manipulator Haechan, innocent Jeno, virgin reader, corruption, bible quotes
Smut Warning: oral(F receiving), slight sensory deprivation, fingering, all in church.
Intro—>
Part 1–>
“I told the new family in town that you’d be showing their daughter around boys. I expect you to be on your best behavior.” Pastor Lee slaps a hand over Jeno’s shoulder with a firm grip. “No funny business.”
“You got it, father. You know, like because you’re a pastor.” Haechan snorts, pouring hot steaming coffee into a ceramic mug.
“Ha ha ha, you’re hilarious. Make sure your brother acts right. People around town are already talking enough about my atrocious parenting skills. Word travels fast in these small towns you know.” Pastor Lee adjusts his tie in the mirror. Stepping out of the front door with not even a wave goodbye. Jeno left rubbing at his shoulder with irritation.
“What time do you want to head out?” He questions, eyes burning into Haechans back.
“Oh, I can’t do that ‘show the new townies’ around thing today. Got a brunch date in the next town over with someones mom.” Haechan turns, leaned back along the kitchen counter blowing steam from his coffee.
“What?? She’s your girlfriend now. Aren’t you supposed to hang out with her tonight?” Jeno’s eyes widen befuddled. More in disbelief his brother would be two timing you, familiar with his antics.
“Your point?” Haechan scoffs, checking messages through his phone. Petty smirk on his lips sending you a ‘miss you’ text.
“You’re a dog. You’re not seriously just fucking with her to get back at me are you? It’s not like everyones talking about you being dads problem child here.” Jeno’s arms fold over his chest. Bicep muscles straining under tight sleeves.
“Shouldn’t you be happy? I’m allowing you to spend alone time with your church girl. Should be thanking me nono.”
“Dick..” Jeno mutters, grabbing his bag to head out. Not wanting to spend another minute around his brother.
“Wait a minute..” Haechan grabs a hold on Jeno’s arm, pulling him back into the kitchen. “Take good care of my girl today yea?” Jeno’s eyes squint as his brother sneaks a $20 bill into his side jacket pocket.
“Maybe get her a milk shake or something. Whatever it is you kids drink. We’re not really going on a date tonight if you know what I mean.” Haechans eyes shift around mischievously. Knowing damn well Jeno knows. Knowing exactly what to say to get under his skin.
Jeno grips at Haechans collar, huffing against his face. Anger seething through fingertips aching to bring his brother physical pain. Jaw tightening, resisting the deep urge inside building for years everyday.
“Gonna give me a black eye nono? What will father think when he finds out his bad seed is also abusive?” Lips curling with a slick grin. Haechan the expert on how to push Jeno’s buttons. Worked on himself well to get exactly what he wants.
“That’s what you want isn’t it?” Jeno clenches the fabric between his fist, arms shaking with rage. “You’re the perfect one, I’m the fuck up. You’re the one dad brags about, I’m the one he pretends doesn’t exist.”
“You think your daddy issues would get your little church girl turned on? Should I tell her how you cry yourself to sleep wishing you were me?” Haechan snorts, loosening from of Jeno’s grip. Hands smoothing out his freshly ironed shirt.
“I’ve never wanted to be anything like you. You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”
“That’s not true nono..” Haechan pulls on a jacket. Fingers twirling around keys. “You know how much I love my car” with a cocky wink matching a shit eating grin Haechan heads out. Leaving Jeno festering in his anger. Fists slamming against the counter. Back tense with underlying hatred, hatred for himself. Tired of how easily Haechan manages to provoke him.
——————————————————————————
Jeno’s nervous, pissed off, feeling anxious. Pacing back and forth in front of your house. He didn’t have much of a choice with the looming threat of getting shipped back off to Jesus camp hovering his mind. The idea to ditch this whole ordeal passing his thoughts more than once. It’s not that he liked you, but it’s also not necessarily that he didn’t like you. Convincing himself he just hasn’t gotten any for too long now. Dick probably desperate for anything at this point. Nothing related to how cute you looked with your lips all swollen after kissing him. Jacking off at home that night reliving the events long forgotten.
Forget about stroking himself off in the shower the next morning again. Or the other five more times since. No he didn’t like you, not really..
“Aren’t you one of Pastor Lee’s sons??” And older woman carrying bags of groceries approaches. Lipstick covering her two front teeth, over sized dress hanging from her body.
“Oh uh.. yes I am. I’m supposed to.. show your.. daughter? Around today..” Jeno stutters out, mentally slapping himself.
“Oh..” the woman adjusts a bag in her hold, throat clearing. “What about that lovely brother of yours? What’s his name again?”
“Haechan..” Jeno’s eyes shift, looking away. How did his brother manage to convince everyone he was such an angel. A modern day fallen angel, roaming earth in disguise.
“Ah that’s it..” she makes a sound of disapproval, bag dropping on the porch. “A polite young boy would have offered assistance.” Voice lowly whispering as she unlocks the front door. Jeno’s eyes darting between the groceries and woman, cursing himself yet again for coming off exactly how everyone says.
“I’ll call her down.” She steps inside. Loud shouting vocals calling out your name. The sound of foot steps against stairs following. Your figure appearing, dressed up to impress. Jeno’s throat itching, swallowing, adjusting his collar.
“That’s not your bike- is it?!” Your mothers shrieking voice questions. Eyes bulging out, taking in the sleek black motorcycle off the sidewalk.
“I’m here!” Your smile falls, only spotting one brother waiting for you outside. Not the one you’d expect even. You subtly give a look around, searching for someone else maybe hiding in surprise. Jeno unfortunately does not fail to notice.
“That is my bike Ma’m.. it’s safe. I promise.” He holds up two helmets. Craving to crawl into a hole under your moms scrutinizing gaze.
“I’m not so sure about this..” she mumbles. Eyes glaring into Jeno, trying to put the fear of God...fear of a strict crazy mother, in him.
“It’ll be fine mom! He has a helmet! I’ve been on a motorcycle with dad before!” You lean up, pecking your mothers cheek. Summer dress twirling up with air as you run forward. Jeno catching a glimpse of your underwear. Shifting a helmet over his groin momentarily.
“I thought Haechan was coming too?” You asks, taking the helmet held out for you. Typically being his brothers helmet, little did you know.
“He’s busy.. errands out of town or something.” Jeno mumbles, avoiding your eyes. He’s being weird, but then again you didn’t know him well enough to confirm he wasn’t always this way.
“Oh.. well I guess I’ll see him later anyway.” You frown, tugging at the light fabric of your dress. What a waste. “You ride a motorcycle?”
“Yea.. I don’t have a car so.. you’ve been on one before you said?” Jeno’s brows furrow. Eyes trained on your feet, teeth digging into his lower lip. You had to wear cute strappy sandals with a summer dress. That just made sense, to show off your cute freshly painted toes..Jeno’s brain feels like its turning in his skull. Lips begging for mercy to let out a scream.
“I actually haven’t. Just said that to make my mom shut up.” You lean in close. Lips grazing his earlobe as you whisper. Words muffled, Jeno blinking slowly. Perfume wafting around his head, as if this could get any worse.
“Uh..” Jeno steps away abruptly. “Put that on!” His voice awkwardly shouts to you, chin jerking toward the helmet in your hands. Head shaking, pulling on his own. Straddling around the bike seat, engine coming to life.
“Am I supposed to hold on to you?” You stand to Jeno’s side. Admiring the shining black bike, fitting for his character. At least physically.
“I..” Jeno’s breath catches under his helmet shield. Only now realizing you’ll be riding with him around today. Legs parted on him.. arms squeezing his abdomen.
“Jeno??..” you pull on your helmet with confusion. He wasn’t much for words it seemed. So opposite of his brother.
“Uh.. yea.. just hold on to me..” he sighs to himself. Sounding more displeased than intended. Uncomfortable awkwardness travels through you watching his shoulders slump. With reluctance, you lift your leg. Straddling Jeno’s back, bad day to wear a short dress..
“This is kind of..” your lips purse together, center a little too close to Jeno’s body. More than close, right on him. Cotton airy smell coming off his black jean jacket. Scent fresh and clean, hair lingering of lightly scented shampoo. His broad shoulders covering majority of your view.
“You should.. hold on tight.” Jeno licks his cracking lips. Foot kicking up the bikes lock. With another look toward your mom motioning the sign of the cross. You lean your body forward, chest pressed up on Jeno’s wide back. Arms circling around his small waist.
Jeno’s own thoughts rolling in like rapid fire. Throat squeezing in, heat between your bodies pressed together moving between his legs. Trying to focus on anything, anything but your breasts pressing into him. Anything besides your smooth thighs around him. The memory of kissing you too vividly choosing to repeat itself.
“God be with you!” Your mothers voice screams out. Bike engine too loud as Jeno rides off. Your dress blowing behind you, smile covering your face. Chin on his shoulder, admiring the view of your new home.
Could only be an even more perfect moment if it was Haechan you were wrapped around..
——————————————————————————
“That’s it? A diner? That’s the tour of the town?” You twirl around the cherry sat atop melting whipped cream. Chocolate shake looking unblended and less than appetizing.
“There really isn’t much to do here..” Jeno mumbles, chin tucked into his chest. Basket of half eaten fries more interesting than you apparently.
“I could have told you that..” you murmur in response. Sitting back in the booth with boredom. Jeno does the same, brows furrowing in thought. A minute or five of silence passing. He grunts lowly, pulling his phone out.
“Look at you two!” Mark jogs over sporting a huge smile stretched across his cheeks. Red and white striped apron covering what looks like an all white uniform.
“You work here?!” You sit up, eyeing the uniform. Almost too fitting, a too old altar boy working part time at a cheap fifties diner.
“Well of course, phone bills don’t pay themselves! Timothy 6:10 For the love of money, is the root of all kinds of evil!” Mark proclaims, finger waggling about like a mad man. Your lips pulling back over your teeth in...displeasure.
“Right..”
“Fucking shit” Jeno groans, kicking at a foot under the table. Tsking as thumbs slam down at his phone screen.
“Ah Jeno! Proverbs 21:23! Whoever keeps his mouth and his tongue keeps himself out of trouble!” Mark places hands on his hips. Lips pursed together with disappointment.
“Yea..sorry Jesus. Whatever.” Jeno mumbles again, eyes not moving from his phone.
“Gamers right” Mark shakes his head your way. Eyes lighting up, taking your own phone out.
“What do you play??” you scoot in closer to Jeno. Closing the space between the two of you in the booth. His shoulders stiffen, curling in hunched over the table.
“Kartrider..” Jeno barely whispers. Catching enough of it, familiar with the game.
“I play too! Oh! I bet I have a better rank than you!” Laughing unlocking your phone, swiping the game open. “Look at my character, she’s so cute!”
“There’s no way you’re better than me....I’m always top ranking in this county..” Jeno’s eyes widen. Forgetting about his current race, watching you hold up your phone with laughter.
“Come on, let’s race. I’m gonna kick your ass!” You lean in closer, reading out Jeno’s ID as you enter it in. “Add me!”
“Language!” Mark sighs, head shaking with both of you. “God’s children have truly fallen. After everything the lord has done for us.”
“Come on Jeno! Play me! I’ll go easy on you” nudging at his side with a wink. Your smile grows, finally something you can do together. Jeno dragging you around downtown past rusty antique shops. The only thing that caught your interest a quant little family owned bookstore. Learning fast he wasn’t much for conversation. Face appearing pained and uninterested with every word from you.
“Don’t feel like playing anymore..” Jeno shuts his phone, screen turning black.
“What?! Aw come on. Can’t stand the thought of a girl beating you?” Jeno leans back, eyes taking in your face slowly. All he cared about was winning, competing in stupid games just to achieve a high ranking. You’d win of course, he’d never let you lose.
“Just don’t feel like playing anymore.”
——————————————————————————-
“Thanks for showing me around, the one street you took me to.” Your voice drips with sarcasm. Hopping off the back of Jeno’s bike. He removes his own helmet, hair flopping around messily. “Was fun I guess.”
“Yea well” Jeno holds out his hand for the helmet you borrowed. You hold it under your arm, brow quirking in confusion. Your hand slowly lifting, placing in his. Jeno’s eyes widen, staring at your hands held together. Too many feelings rushing at him all at once.
“Helmet!” Jeno shouts abruptly, hand flying away from yours like you’re too disgusting to touch.
“Geeze, fine. Sorry...” you place the helmet on the back end of Jeno’s bike. Turning away, without even a goodbye. He grabs your elbow, your foot stopping mid-air.
“You..” head turning, staring down where he holds you.
“Yes?” You implore him to continue. Jeno’s hand dropping from you when you fully turn to face him again.
“You.. you really like my brother..?” Jeno’s eyes fall to the ground. Thick dark eyelashes shadowing across his cheeks.
“Yea of course. Is that what this is about Jeno? I really do like him, I would never use someone.” You smile, bouncing back on your heels. Jeno’s lips suck in with frustration.
“Wish I could say the same about him.” Jeno mumbles, turning his engine back on.
“What was that?” Voice raising, trying to speak above the loud roar from the motorcycle. Jeno flicks down his helmet shield, speeding off. Cloud of dust surrounding you. Smacking at the air coughing out, bike disappearing behind dusts.
“Fucking jerk.”
—————————————————————————-
“Haechan! Where are we going? The church?!” Your shoes lift up dust. Arm in his hold pulling you toward the small old building.
“Where else would we go baby? Can’t go to my place, the holy spirit’s home.” Haechan laughs, pulling a lanyard from his back pocket. “Besides, this is my dads church you know right? It’s like my property too, we’re safe here under God’s watchful eye.”
“Isn’t this.. I don’t know. Sacrilegious?!” You anxiously follow him inside. Haechans easy smile comforting you, arms wrapping around your waist. He steps back down the center aisle. Pews displayed at your sides, Haechan leading you one in front. He pulls you to the center of the pew, sitting with hands on your hips.
“This feels..” you start, chest rising and falling faster as guilt passes through you.
“Wrong? God didn’t make us this way..” his hand smooths down your bare thigh. Passing the fresh new dress just for your date tonight. Fingers skirting between your thighs, one playing at a side covering your mound. “..for us to not touch and explore..”
“It’s just..” your hands grip at the front of the pew behind you. Where you’d normally kneel to pray..
“Just?..” Haechans eyes gaze up at you. Pure sin and danger hidden in the face of an angel. Tongue sliding up your other thigh. “You’re so sweet.”
You sigh in defeat, legs quivering, upper body doing the work to hold you up. His head dipping under your dress, nose pressing into your slit. Cotton from your panties shoving between you. Soft moans sounding from underneath, Haechans tongue licking at your underwear. Enough to properly soak them up, allowing drool to freely fall from his mouth. You gnaw at your lip, gathering up your dress fabric in one hand. Admiring the way the beautiful boy between your legs eats you up.
Haechan lets out a dreamy sigh. Long fingers stroking up and down your thighs. Teeth biting your at core with cloth between. Your stomach folds in, curling closer to where he sits below you. Fingers wrapping around the sides of your panties, tongue lapping at your inner thighs.
“Body of a virgin can heal more sins than body of christ you know..” underwear at your knees. Haechan leans back in, lips wrapping around your clit. Tongue swirling around, suctioning between. Your other hand lifting to your mouth, biting down on your thumb. Muffled moans and whines echoing around the church walls.
Haechans eyes stay on your face, tongue rolling your clit around. Hands squeezing your inner thighs, pulling back, clapping down slaps. Your hips jolting forward with suppressed cries. Everything about him was absolutely depraved. Looks deceiving from the boy your mother had always warned you about.
“Don’t hide your pretty sounds baby.” Haechan pulls away. Lips shining, coated in your wetness. Glares from the colored glass reflecting off his skin. Red tinted eyes sparkling up at you. Haechan reaches for your wrist, yanking your hand out from your mouth. His lips part open, tongue swirling around your entrance. Sucking up the wetness gathering around.
“Oh God!” You shout out, neck loosely dropping back. Tears on the brink of escaping the corners of your eyes.
“That’s it baby. You pray to me now.” Haechan groans, mouth closing over your entire mound. Eyes rolling back into his head, swiping up and down your core. Hands finding his hair, fingers digging into his scalp. Haechans tongue thrusts into your tight entrance, muscle working extra hard to enter.
“Oh my God!” Body shaking, ass digging into the pew. Hips twitching forward, grinding against Haechans face. Chin covered in your wetness, tongue wiggling inside you. Fingers finding way to your clit, pinching and rolling the bud. “Oh my God!!”
Haechan groans inside you, scalp in pain from your pulling. Cock hardening in his jeans, taste of innocence in his mouth nearly orgasmic. You taste too fucking good, nothing like that used up whore from earlier..
“I-I c-can’t!” Haechans fingers work at your clit. Rapidly sweeping back and forth. Tongue sliding out, jaw hung open. Eyes return to your face, smile breaking out over his cheeks.
“You can.” He pants, tongue hung out lazily lapping at your hole. Clit pinched between two fingers, massaging every little nerve. “Cum on my tongue.”
Your head drops forward, tear slipping free. Haechans raspy tone saying those words driving you past your limit. Ass lifted off the pew, core convulsing. Haechans tongue placed against your fluttering entrance. Catching all of your release. You weakly fall forward again, forehead resting on top of his messed up hair.
“So good.” Haechan moans words out, licking clean the wetness seeping from you. Neck lifting, hands cupping your cheeks. “Taste.”
Tongue pushing between your parted lips, trying to catch your breath. Haechan laps at your tongue, realization hitting you in seconds what he’s making you do. Tasting yourself between your lips. His tongue covering every corner inside your mouth. Haechans hands return to your hips, pulling you off the front of the pew to straddle his lap.
“You want it?” His hand digs into the back of your hair. Jean clad dick shoving between your thighs at your heated core. Weakly nodding, eyes half open lazily pecking pouty lips. Haechan lays back down flat across the pew. Warm hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly. “Come here.”
Your head nods, under his command. Mind controlled by whatever he’s saying, telling you ‘I want it- no matter what it is.’ If it’s from Haechan- give it to me, now. You lay down on his chest, kisses continuing. Hands squeezing around your ass, pulling up your dress. Hands flying down hard with mean slaps. Fingers gliding down finding way between your legs again. Skimming up and down your slit from the back. Soft moans passing between your swollen lips.
Body tensing, sounds of the large entrance doors opening up with a slam. Haechans eyes open up staring into yours, brows lifted. His lips purse out with a silent ‘shhh’, earning a rapid head shake from you. Familiar smirk pulling at his lips, free hand clamping over your mouth. Your eyes widen, lips pressing into the palm of Haechans hand. Fingertips circling around your needy entrance. Panic rushing through you as loud foot steps approach closer and closer.
Your forehead shoved up against Haechans. Mouth closed off, silent whimpers falling out behind his hand. Finger sliding inside you, his lit up eyes watching your expressive eyes react. The fear and curiosity alone could make him cum.
“Are you kidding me!” A flash light shines over your faces. Mark standing at the end of the pew in disgust. Your head lifts quickly, ripping Haechans hand off your mouth. Cheeks heating up absolutely mortified. Moving fast, adjusting your dress to cover up. Haechan stays laid down, eyes fluttering shut with irritation.
“Fucking cock block.” He whispers to himself, sitting up. Tent in his jeans extremely evident.
“I knew you stole my keys again Haechan!” Mark clicks the flash light on and off angrily. Both of you covering your eyes. “and you! Mary of Magdala! You should be ashamed! Think of your mother!”
“Dude, chill.” Haechan stands, hands held up trying to block the bright light from his eyes. “We weren’t doing anything.”
“Weren’t doing anything?!? If people found out what you were doing, this one would be getting pelted with stones!” Mark passes the light over your face. You cringe, hands coming up to hide yourself.
“Mark, quick, what’s the verse about fucking that really cute voice of an angel choir boy?” Haechan throws him a knowing look, pulling a lanyard from his pocket. Marks eyes widen, snatching his keys away.
“Don’t steal my keys again! Next time I will be telling your father!” Mark scurries away, door slamming behind him.
“Oh my God he’s gonna tell your dad!” You panic, pulling your dress down. Attempting to wipe away any mascara that could be on your cheeks.
“Nah he’d never, can’t risk everyone finding out about Renjun. Don’t worry baby, I got something on everyone.” Haechan pulls you in, gently pecking your lips. Your senses relax, mind torn with stress still. Who the fuck were you right now..
“You know..” Haechan turns you around, hand scooping your chin. “I’m gonna fuck you. Right there.” He holds your jaw up. Eyes on landing on the altar.
“Jesus will know all your sins after I’m done with you.”
Part 3–>
Taglist:
@seuomo @unknown5tar @sunoosi @safariria @nctlover94 @underjeno @nanascupid @jenorenle @scruffiejelly @mel-yjh @count-your-shadows @sunflowerhae @johnjaespeach @nctflix @notsooperfect​ @skrtbeepbeep​  @lanadreamie​ @nctstrawberrycow​  @meonlightuniverxse​ @sunshinedhyuck​ @haechanswhore​ @brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr​ @kpopmultiifandomm​ @d1nne​ @neobanguniverse​ @pewpewpwe00​ @abitofafan​ @haechansworld​ @born5sos​ @bockhyun​ @prettychannie​ @xuyiyangstan​@alexameliamg​ @ahsshilee​ @jeon-jungkook-is-actually-god @xwanna127x @heyitsbreeeeee @tarolovebot @loveyukhei @eleanorfreakingchan @classic-antifood @winwiniee @sheytanni @player23 @wavetease @nahyuckk @n0hyuck @doyoungssouthernbabygirl
902 notes · View notes
shurisneakers · 3 years
Text
harmless (viii)
Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)
Warnings: cursing, protesting, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, gamer (derogatory), smidge of angst
Word count: 3.5k
A/N: listen idk what goes on at construction site and im too sexy to research so we’re going with my version of the world. hello. how are we all doing?
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333
Tumblr media
Previous Part || Series Masterlist
He doesn’t expect to see you on TV. 
In jail maybe, for something scandalous and completely unnecessary, but not TV.
But there you are, a sign board waving around furiously in your hand, voice in protest against the demolition of the community centre. You’re flipping the board back and forth to alternate between the messages you’ve scrawled on the cardboard.
You were among a few protesting, but clearly the loudest. 
He thinks that maybe he has the weekend off if you’re too busy fighting big corporations. He’d send his support even.
Until he zeroes in on the sign when it flips over, finally reading what it says.
You better get your ass here, sarge
And so he does.
Half the crowd had dipped by the time he arrived. You were there, still the loudest, but he couldn’t help but notice the lack of people as compared to an hour or two ago on TV. He supposed that justice could wait as long as it took to get lunch from the nearest café.
“I can’t stop you from protesting, y’know.” He’s a little wary of approaching your raging self. 
“Oh, hey Barnes. You got my message.” You break away for a second to scream a bunch of obscenities at the gigantic glass building before turning to him. “You wouldn’t be able to.”
“What’s your dumb plan then?” 
“First of all, it’s not dumb. It’s stupid. Put some respect on my technological genius.” You held up a finger. “Second of all, it’s not here.”
“Where is it?” 
“At the construction site.” You point down the road. “Come on.”
Right along the way you stop to chant another slogan. He waves his arm around meekly in support. He did, after all, have to stand up for what was right, but if his publicist saw him here she’d have an aneurysm. 
The construction site isn’t very far off. It’s adjacent to the community centre, which he assumes they’re going to tear down to make more space for whatever shitty commercial building was going to take its place.
There are already a few excavators and dozers there but no one to man them since it was lunch time. What garners his attention is the small silver plate that’s on the floor a few feet ahead in the direction you’re walking towards.
“Here.” You stop once it nears. “The plan.”
“Am I supposed to know what this is?” He lightly kicked at it, earning a smack on the arm from you.
“Stop that,” you scolded, “and look at it. It’s not hard to figure out.”
He narrows his eyes. There’s a small u-shaped piece of metal in the middle of the plate. “That’s a magnet.”
“Exactly.” You clapped your hands together in excitement. “The world’s strongest electromagnet.”
He looks around. The only possibly magnetic things are the cranes and excavators around him.
“You’re going to... stop the machines from moving ahead?” he hesitates in his deduction. 
“Yep. Can’t tear anything down if they can’t get to it first.” 
Bucky looks down.
“Does this thing even work?” He toes at it again. “It’s kinda small.”
“It works beautifully, stop kicking at it, you demon-”
“What happens if I step on it, huh?” He knows this would get on your nerves wonderfully. He raises his leg. “Do I get to go home for the day?”
“You’re such a little shit,” you whine, reaching for your back pocket. “Stop bullying my invention.”
“’m gonna squish it like a bug.” He’s only half kidding about that part. “I’m gonna-”
Before he can finish his sentence something yanks him down hard. His head nearly hits the ground before his right arm shoots out to break his fall.
"Woah there, don't go falling for me as yet.” 
“What the fu-” he begins, eyes locking on his metal arm that was pressed flat against the earth.
“I told you it works,” you say smugly. “Try crushing it now, Barnes. If you can even get off the floor.”
He tugs his hand but it’s firmly attached to the thing. No matter how or where he’s applying the effort, his limb refuses to move. He’s stuck.
“Turn it off,” he sighs. “You made your point.”
“No. Stay there.”
“Y/N, shut up and turn this off,” he groans, trying to find a better position rather than chin down on the ground.
“Lay there and rot. You deserve it for underestimating me.” You huff.
“I wasn’t underestimating you, Jesus Christ.” He really was planning to just step on it, but he had complete faith that it worked. 
When he doesn’t receive a reply, his gaze follows yours. Suddenly the crane looks a lot closer than it initially did. Awesome. 
“Those are moving towards me.” He picks up on the low groan and creak of metal.
“Yeah, they are.” You nod, one hand on your hip, watching them.
He didn’t think that getting crushed under construction equipment would be how his day went. 
“Not my problem,” you decide finally after a bout of silence. 
Now that simply wouldn’t do. 
Death was definitely a problem, but what was more important was that he was going to get a dust allergy from the mud. He could already feel the blocked nose and temperature incoming.
“Are you really going to waste this on me? Don’t you have a demolition to stop?” He manages to twist his body so that he’s lying on his back.
“Good point,” you squint into the distance at the whirring of the heavy machinery. Their owners wouldn’t be happy to find them missing from their original spot. “But I still can’t help you out.”
“You’re willing to sacrifice your-”
“I can’t help you out because I don’t have an off switch. Yet,” you add the last part in a hurry.
“Then when the fuck were you planning to build one?” He sits up, leaning on his elbow. The cranes weren’t a mini object on the horizon now; the closer they got, the faster they were starting to move towards him. 
“I don’t know, after they agreed not to take down the building?”
He could just detach his arm and come back for it later he but had no guarantee that you would stop here for the day or that the vibranium could withstand all that pressure. 
“You better make a switch right now and get me out of this, I don’t care how.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled, bending to assess how badly he was stuck. “You know, this thing runs really deep into the earth. It’d take forever to dig back up and then get you back to my lab and then build a switch.”
“How long?” He didn’t have a lot of time, clearly, but even generally he didn’t have the whole day to waste. He had a mission the next day. He had to put the fear of death into some Russians and bring some pirozhki back for Nat. 
“I don’t know,” you furrowed your eyebrows. “Too long for my schedule anyway, I have class prep to do.”
“Motherfucke- that thing’s like twenty feet away.” He’s worried about how you don’t look fazed at all when he points at the stupid machine.
He’s about to volunteer to detach his arm when he realises it’s definitely less than twenty feet now. He had a backup just in case. It didn’t move as smoothly, but who could tell the difference when a couple of tons of pressure was aiming for your face, and hell, if he explained his circumstances of the destruction of his arm to T’Challa-
“Okay, fine.” You reach into your backpack to grab something that looked like a wrist watch. It matched the one already around your hand. 
You reach over and clasp it around his hand before turning a dial on the side.
“You ready?” you ask, ignoring the large crane that was starting to charge towards you. 
“For what?” he replies, looking down at it. He can barely hear you over the sound of the whining of machinery.  
“Teleportation, baby.” You send him a big grin before slamming down on his watch.
“Huh-” His voice cuts off immediately. 
If there’s anything that can be said about teleportation, it’s that he feels like every atom in his entire body violently splits to float around briefly before suddenly rejoining again.  
The ground beneath him feels different, and it takes him a second to realise that he was on the floor of your lair. 
“What the fu-”
“Hello,” your voice comes from above him. 
“You can teleport.” It’s not difficult for him to look at you now without the sun in his face. His arm is still stuck to the magnet but since the giant rod it was attached to was no longer deep in the ground, he could lift the entire apparatus up relatively easily.
“What, like it’s hard?” You discarded your bag on the floor. “You good? Takes a while to get used to.”
He gives you a grunt in acknowledgement, shaking his arm to see if he had any luck. It didn’t budge.
“Come on, take a seat.” You gesture to a lab chair you’ve pulled up for him on the raised platform at the front of the room. He realises that this is the first time he’s properly seen what’s actually inside your lair.
There are various buttons that do God knows what, drawers and cabinets painted black, several computer screens and gigantic pillars of glass on either side of the set up that encapsulate some green bubbling liquid. There’s a giant television set up against the wall, divided into several screens.
“Whaddya think?” You do a small swoop of your arm to show off the place.
“Gamer,” he says simply, testing his luck.
“What did you just say to me?” you recoil instantly, disgust on your face.
“It’s a gamer set up.” He points a finger at the TV screen. He was told by Shuri to use it as an insult, but he wasn’t exactly sure why. It just felt appropriate. 
“Take that back right now.” You raise a finger accusatorially at him.
“No.” He was sticking with it even though he had no idea what exactly the context was.
“Fuck your arm,” you announce, throwing your hands up in surrender.
“Fuck your demolition then,” he replies simply, getting up from his place on the chair to leave with the thing still attached to him. 
He takes one step ahead before your voice rings out.
“Sit down, drama queen,” your voice calls from behind him. “God, you’re annoying.”
“You’re infuriating.”
“I’m the best part of your week,” you fire back, ”and also your only way out of this. Now sit down.”
He didn’t even need the second warning, he was already on the chair the first time around.
“I’m not going to build a switch to turn this off. It’d take too long,” you examine the piece of equipment with more gentleness than he was expecting, “I’m going to remove it instead. It’s gonna take a while, so you better get comfortable.”
“I’m not.”
“That’s so sad,” you say without any indication of wanting to help. 
He rolls his eyes.
You pull up next to him, welding glasses covering your face and the tool in your hand. 
He turns away when you start, making sure his face is not directly within its trajectory. 
He makes himself busy by looking around some more. There are details you’ve put into the place, materials that are non-flammable made up most of the architecture. It’s dramatic, sure, but somehow the designs and colours seemed to go together. It did look sinister, he’d give you props for that.
The space was quite big. It occurs to him only then that that’s how you manage to sneak up on him so often in the past. Everything clicked. Fucking teleportation.
“So,” your voice was raised to speak over the noise. “How’s it going?”
He decidedly doesn’t answer. His position is more than enough.
“Right.” You clear your throat. 
He takes to counting the tiles on the floor, figuring out how many were there from the raised platform to the wall of the entrance. 
“Not how you imagined your day to go, huh?” you continued despite his lack of response. “But some might say it’s a privilege to be spending the day with a cool, mad scie-”
“Are you going to keep talking?” he interrupts, losing his count on the floor.
“Yeah, duh,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You got anything better to do?”
He didn’t. 
“What’s it like living with a bunch of superheroes?” You change course. He’s not sure if he’s really allowed to disclose top secret information. “I assume there’s a lot of protein shakes, talcum powder for the chafing-”
Then again, how much damage could you do by knowing that Steve preferred pancakes over waffles?
“It’s quiet,” he says. “Most of the time.”
“Save all your smart talking for the battlefield, huh?” 
He doesn’t reply. It’s quiet around the Tower. A lot of their energy goes towards missions and recuperating once they’re back. 
“You go on missions a lot?” 
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Boo, you whore,” you say with mock disappointment.
He got that reference.
“What’s your favourite food then?”
He scrunches his eyebrows.
“What?” The welding stops for a second while you look at him. “Don’t tell me that’s classified too.”
It’s not, he’s just never thought about it. 
“I don’t know,” he murmurs, “Pasta?”
“Vague, but I’ll take it.”
He used to boil a lot of pasta, from what he could remember of his days in hiding. Cheap and bought in bulk before he saved up enough to buy things like fruits. A lot of the times the amount of sauce he had access to was enough for maybe seasoning, not a whole component on its own. 
It’s one of the perks of being a free man in the 21st century he thinks, a steaming bowl of fettuccini drenched in sauce and garlic bread on the side. 
“What do you do in your downtime?”
“Nothing.” Well, he considers it to be a pass time and doing nothing is a full time gig. It takes effort to do nothing. He even has days dedicated to doing nothing, as suggested to him by his therapist.
“Really?” You sound a little surprised, although it’s hard to make out when you’re already speaking a lot louder than usual. “No shining your penny collection? No software update for this thing?” You tap at his arm. 
There really isn’t anything. Truth be told, he thinks he’s the most boring guy in the Tower. He sticks to himself, has a few succulents that he adores and occasionally watches trashy television. So then why are you so interested in him?
“You’re obsessed with me,” he says pointedly. “Why?”
You give a short laugh. “I think it’s the blue eyes, sarge, they’re really popping today. Gotta say, I’m loving this colour on you. Is it different from the black you wore last week? And from the one from the week before that?”
He looks down at his dark t-shirt and utility pants. He had other clothes but those were reserved for things that were not this.
“Or maybe it’s the grumpiness, I don’t know. I love it when someone shows absolutely no interest in me. Very sexy of you.” Oh jeez, you were going to continue. “Hell, maybe it’s the thighs-”
“Okay,” he interjects, feeling the need to count the tiles more than ever. He equates the heat in his neck from the welding going on beside him. 
The loudness of your laughter is clearer than the sound of metal on metal when you tug a large piece of the invention off. Things were moving fast. He could get back home to his Star Trek marathon and forget this day ever happened.
“You know, you’re more interesting than you think,” you pipe up casually. 
He doesn’t expect this and therefore he supposes he can’t stop the curiosity from enveloping his face. He hasn’t told you anything about himself, so then the inference you reached came out of nowhere.
Apparently, you take notice of the confusion on his face, even though he can’t see through the giant welding mask, because you let out a chuckle. 
“Oh, come on, really? You have no idea?” you ask lightly, pausing to see if he offers anything other than silence. “You’ve come back almost every week even though you know it’s a waste of your time, you always keep your promises and I know for a fact that if you wanted to stop me once and for all, you could have. But you’re not.”
He doesn’t realise you’ve stopped welding until you start again. Good, it gives him an excuse not to have to look at you after that. 
Frankly, he’s a little stunned.
You’re not looking at him, he can tell from his peripheral vision. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a small crush on me.”
At that, he’s forced to roll his eyes out of instinct. Thankfully you do know better.
A few screws out later, another piece comes out. You inform him that’s it’s going to get trickier from there since the circuit was a little more intricate, a lot more time than the original few pieces. He can see his Star Trek marathon fade away in the distance.
You ask him a few more questions. Some he answers with silence, others maybe a tidbit here and there. 
“How’s dating now compared to the forties?”
“Strange.” He purses his lips in thought. “One guy asked for a gym date. Didn’t know that was a thing.”
“How’d that turn out?” you laugh.
“He didn’t ask for a second one.” His Bumble matches with girls somehow had gone down since he cut his hair, but he’s not too bothered. Not like there was a huge shortage. 
He likes cats, thinks the worst merchandise that they make is the stupid baseball card with his face on it, and doesn’t have social media for the sake of his sanity. He’s seen the thirst tweets. 
Clearly, he’s revealed his deepest, darkest secrets. Utterly classified material. But he doesn’t know anything about you other than your name, number, address, where you teach, what your hobby is-
“You, uh-” he hesitates, “You got a favourite food?”
Your hands hold still to hover above what they’re working on. You fight back a smile. “Sure do.”
He asks a few more questions. Shuts up when he feels his social battery drain. That’s enough for the next month, he thinks.
The sun’s dipped down beyond the horizon by the time majority of the work is completed. Both of you have taken a few breaks to fight the feeling of stiffness that was creeping into your joints. 
You scoff and tell him you’re not planning to poison him when he denies the offer of a soda. He doesn’t deter in his decision.
“How much to go?” He has a mission tomorrow that he’d really like to get some sleep in before. Waking up at 3am to get ready was the worst part of the job. 
“Basically done.” You roll your chair back, rotating your shoulder and stretching your fingers. “There’s just this little part that I can’t access from this angle. How good are you at hanging upside down like a bat?”
Fuck it, he sighs to himself, it was almost finished anyway.
Bucky stands up, tilting his neck to the side slightly before pulling at a small latch under his arm, one so tiny that you’d never make out was even there unless you knew it existed. The arm releases from his shoulder with a small click.
He offers it to you, a piece of your magnet still attached to it.
Your eyes are slightly wide. He raises his eyebrows.
You don’t say anything, just accept it and flip it to a position you were comfortable with. It takes only a minute or two for the sound of the last piece hitting the floor to reverberate through the hall.
You give a small cheer. He lets out a tiny exhale in equal parts fatigue and relief.
“So,” you drawl, handing his arm back to him, “you could have just done that the whole time.”
He doesn’t reply, just slides it back onto his shoulder. 
“You had the option of leaving your arm here and coming back later to get it.” 
He gives it a few shakes, opens and clenches his fist shut a few times to make sure everything is working.
“You wanted to talk to me.”
He gives you a deadpan look. “I was distracting you.”
“Bullshit,” you laugh.
“Believe what you must.” He shrugs, turning around. “My job here is done regardless.”
“Oh, I believe alright,” you call out from behind him as he walks towards the entrance of your lair. “I believe you’re a sneaky bastard, Bucky Barnes.”
He doesn’t stop himself from smiling at the overdramatic gasp you give when he flips you a middle finger. From the metal arm, too. 
Next part
978 notes · View notes
thedoubteriswise · 4 years
Text
okay so. I am a smart adult with many important responsibilities. I have good taste and care about things that matter. for this reason, I’ve been trying to identify where in cql canon wangxian manage to fuck.
because they definitely do; I like a good post-canon getting together fic as much as the next guy, but it’s just not realistic.
Tumblr media
allow them. it’s already been so long.
(just like this goddamn post turned out to be, let’s do a cut)
right. so initially it looks like you could place this right after the time skip in episode 33, because it shows us that wwx is with lwj in cloud recesses. we know that he spent the night in the jingshi because he wakes up there the next morning before he goes for a nostalgic tour of his old school.
Tumblr media
and also visits the cold spring, where lwj is mostly naked. nice.
Tumblr media
but wait! wwx is surprised by the scars on his back and chest. that seems like something he would have known about if they’d already been naked together the night before, so I’m going to say they did not fuck immediately upon wwx’s return to cloud recesses. okay, fine, they’re taking things slow, that’s cool.
maybe they could work it into the next night, then. oh wait, lqr is injured and... staying in the jingshi? for reasons?
Tumblr media
I don’t know why. he must have his own house in cloud recesses, and it’s probably at least as comfortable as lwj’s, but here he is. he lives to stop his nephew from getting laid, I guess.
the next day they do some Q&A with the kids and determine that they need to head to qinghe to figure out what’s going on with this sword thing. great! we love a romantic road trip, plenty of alone time. but they also have to do their jobs, and then jin ling needs to get rescued from a wall of dirt, and jc is unfortunately there being himself, and then they have to grill nhs about his tomb full of angry sabers, etc. etc.
with all that going on, their next obvious chance is at the inn immediately after interviewing nhs. this evening has already included:
wwx gazing lovingly at lwj from afar
lwj carrying wwx on his back
lwj pawing at wwx’s robes trying to deal with his cursed leg
lwj helping wwx up the stairs, serving him wine, fixing his flute, and generally being at his beck and call
a very sexy and homoerotic duet
Tumblr media Tumblr media
and now they’re alone and drooling over each other as usual. this seems like a plausible spot, right?
it does! but no. after they go back to the nie basement o’ swords and hear the backstory on nmj’s death, we see them walking in yueyang and lwj asks wwx how the curse mark on his leg is doing. wwx says it’s almost healed, which may or may not be a lie, but his inner monologue says:
Tumblr media
he’s more concerned about the wound on his arm from the sacrificing curse, which lwj doesn’t know about, because wwx won’t tell him and they still haven’t been naked together.
also, this silly teenage shit doesn’t make much sense unless they’re still dancing around each other.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
you guys love the sound of opportunities as they go flying past, don’t you?
right after this, lwj gets drunk. I’m aware that Stuff Happens in the novel scene that inspired this bit, and they do incorporate some of that into the show by having lwj commit petty larceny and admit that he “likes rabbits” as part of the softest and most loving conversation in human history oh my god
but lwj goes to sleep right on time, and the next morning, wwx is laughing and reassuring him that nothing happened.
Tumblr media
after this, it’s time to go on a fucked up field trip with the kids in yi city, so they don’t really have any time alone for a few episodes until they’ve finished that and everyone is back at yet another inn. I wonder if they learned something about wasted chances and poor communication from this miserable songxiao story?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
maybe! look, they’re being cute and domestic. there are currently no material barriers preventing them from having sex, nor will there be any specific evidence later on proving that they didn’t.
but they’re still firmly in mystery-solving mode and the juniors and lxc are floating around. the vibe isn’t quite there. if I were to pick the most solid reason why I think they’re saving room for jesus at this point, it would be the tension that happens when wwx again asks how lwj recognized him. lwj asks why his memory is so bad, and wwx replies that he wishes he had a bad memory. even though they’re comfortable and happy being together, there’s still some fundamental distance remaining. there’s no sense of romantic resolution. that was actually a point against all their previous opportunities as well; they’re all very sweet, but none of these feel like the place in a story where the romantic leads Officially Get Together.
okay, off to koi tower! shit is getting extremely real. everyone’s busy insinuating that they recognize wwx, but no one is saying it explicitly. wwx isn’t supposed to be here. the guy he’s pretending to be also isn’t supposed to be here. he and his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s brother are trying to figure out if his boyfriend’s brother’s boyfriend is a murderer. no one is comfortable and the political intrigue leaves no time for fucking in front of anyone’s salad.
I guess there’s plenty of time to make dozens of armed guards and like half the people they know wait while they have a romantic moment, though.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
could they be more in love? And that sure feels like a romantic resolution that might be followed by narratively-earned sex.
ah. no, unfortunately wwx gets stabbed again. this certainly sucks, but it does have the helpful consequence of making lwj take him back to cloud recesses, where they are mostly alone and as safe as they can be in the circumstances. now there’s even more tenderness and also some plot-justified touching and skin exposure. plus, lwj just made a very public declaration of love.
Tumblr media
too bad wwx has probably been unconscious since he started coughing up blood in the forest near lanling. he’s also still visibly in pain. fresh abdominal wounds tend to kill the mood.
but hey, the injuries on this show are only as serious as they need to be to move the plot forward and facilitate gentle h/c scenes, so by evening he’s looking perfectly healthy and walking around under his own steam like nothing’s wrong. I guess that problem can be ignored moving forward.
lxc then offers the the most devastating highlights of lwj’s backstory, like, all at once. it’s nice that he includes a flute solo to give wwx a second to process this mountain of terrible information. what the fuck.
Tumblr media
there he is! the most devoted man in the whole world! turns out they can actually be more in love after all.
and then the following scene... look, I’m lazy and I don’t know how to make gifs, but screenshots cannot properly convey how good it is. you all know. the hesitant way wwx approaches, the slow and gentle piano version of wangxian, the two of them watching the snow together, it’s. ugh.
remember how I was talking about how the last scene with no material barriers was an unlikely candidate because of the lack of romantic resolution?
Tumblr media
well, here’s wwx still being cagey at the beginning of this conversation.
Tumblr media
and here they are in the middle of this conversation, having some epiphanies about the course of wwx’s life - I love this shot for a lot of reasons, but I extra love it because it shows wwx out in the snow, with lwj as the safety and warmth waiting behind him, god this show goes hard, holy shit
they both recall their vow to live with a clean conscience and internally say some very corny things about each other because they are both So Much, and then,
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
ah, what the hell. he can say it out loud after all. romantic resolution accomplished.
and then the camera slowly pulls away as wuji plays.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
a slow zoom out? swelling music? listen, I am a connoisseur, I know a tasteful fade-to-black indicating a sex scene that won’t happen on camera when I see one. at last, we have a winner!
now you may think this post is finally over, but I actually have one more piece of evidence for you - the next scene shows the two of them the morning after, meditating behind a screen in the hanshi while lxc is waiting for jgy to show up.
before wwx got de-cored, he was a pretty powerful cultivator, right? the chances that he’s just bad at meditating or that he can’t stay focused on this task seem slim to me. so why does he keep falling asleep?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
well. he had kind of a late night.
3K notes · View notes
dreamwritesimagines · 3 years
Text
Burn The Witch 23 - Haunted Heart [Bucky Barnes x Reader]
A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Warnings: Enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.
Summary: Coming home can cause issues.
Series Masterlist
Tumblr media
                          SIX MONTHS LATER
You flipped the knife in your hand as the guy tied to the chair glared at you.
“You know,” you trailed off, “I’ve had a really shitty couple of months, Johnny- can I call you Johnny?”
“No.”
“Rude,” you commented, “Fine. John. I’ve had a really shitty couple of months so you really don’t want to try me right now. Just tell me where I can find your boss.”
“You’ll never find him you stupid bitch.”
You rolled your eyes.
“Since I’m going to kill you in a couple of minutes I feel like I can share some things with you,” you said, “My best friend says I keep everything bottled and I should talk about my feelings.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“See, that’s exactly how I feel!” you pointed at him, “Thank you. I mean, I feel angry at myself. I kind of fucked up with the man I love.”
“Jesus Christ, just kill me already.”
“I’m waiting for a text to do that Johnny,” you pointed out, waving your phone at him. “So, I tricked him and used him and threw him to wolves. And then Accords 2.0 didn’t pass and he has been pardoned once again, and he’s a free man now. I have a strong feeling that he’s not the ‘forgive and forget’ type of guy. You know, assassin to assassin.”
“You’re the chattiest assassin I’ve ever met.”
“Thank you, I’m trying to improve myself,” you said, “I mean what exactly should I do? I don’t even trust my agency at this point, my handler lied to me and I have been at this fucking place for six months now, hunting you down. Well, your boss but…”
“You’ll never find him.”
“We’ll see about that my friend,” you said, “So anyway, like what am I supposed to do? I lost the one guy I actually loved. How do you cope with that? Because drinking doesn’t work, sleeping with others doesn’t work…. Nothing seems to—“ you were cut off when your phone vibrated and you touched the screen to open the text message.
From: Julian
Go for it.
“Wait, no no no, I’ll talk—“
“Kind of too late,” you pointed the gun at him, “Nice to meet you Johnny.”
With that you pulled the trigger, silencer doing its job as there was no loud bang or anything. His body fell back with the impact, and you heaved a sigh.
“Maybe I need a therapist I can’t kill,” you mumbled and walked out of the warehouse to approach the car before opening the door to the passenger seat to get in.
“Is it done?” Julian asked and you nodded, rubbing at your eyes.
“Yep.”
“Are you hungry?”
You made a face, “Just because the General sent you here does not mean we’re going to become buddies.”
“I’m not trying to become buddies with you,” Julian stated, “I just want to eat fries and there’s a two for one deal.”
You eyed him up and down.
“Fine, I could eat fries.” You leaned back in the seat as he started driving, keeping your eyes on the road. Soon enough, you reached the city center and Julian got fries from a food truck, then sat across from you.
“So,” he said, “You do realize this whole thing would’ve been over by now if we actually worked together?”
“I’m not going on the field with you.”
“The General sent me here to help you.”
You dipped the fry into sauce, then popped it into your mouth, “You can help me by pretending you’re not here.”
“Y/N.”
“You know what they say Julian. Fool me once…”
“Don’t tell me you’re still holding that grudge.”
“You mean when you left me behind to die on the last mission we were together?” you asked back, “That grudge?”
“I told you—“
“I’m not going to talk about that with you,” you cut him off, “And I work better alone. Who told you we could waste the guy by the way?”
“The General.”
You grabbed the salt shaker to pour some salt on the fries, causing Julian to make a face.
“Are you kidding me? That was salty enough-“
“Why did he not text me?”
“No idea. Maybe he’s avoiding you because he promised you handler and here you are. Field spy.”
Your jaw clenched.
Or maybe he’s avoiding me because he fucking lied to me.
You had to give it to him, it was the perfect plan. The moment he had suspected you were getting too close to Bucky, he had come up with the one thing he knew that would make you switch sides.
And that-
That was below the belt yes, but that was also masterly.
But at the end of the day, you barely had two people to trust in the entire world, and you seriously doubted you could ever forgive the General for what he had done. You knew he held duty above all, above family and surely above you, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
You shook your head at yourself and grabbed another piece of fry.
“So um…” Julian shifted his weight, “Are you okay?”
You shot him a glare, arching a brow, “Peachy.”
“No I mean… About Barnes.”
“What are you talking about?”
“This whole Accords 2.0 failure, there’s no way we could go after him again.”
“I don’t want to go after him again.”
“You don’t want revenge?”
That made you straighten up your back and you put the fry down, “And why exactly would I want revenge?”
That made Julian fall silent and you nibbled on your lip.
“What exactly did the General tell you before you came here?”
“That there was a job here.”
“Bullshit,” you replied way too quickly, “Did he send you here to be my babysitter? He thinks I’ll go after Barnes myself is that it? That’s why they sent you here months after I left the country but right after Accords 2.0 didn’t pass.”
Julian licked his lips.
“Listen, the agency wants to keep you safe—“ he started but then his phone beeped. He grabbed it to take aa look at the screen, then cussed under his breath.
“What?”
“Check your texts.”
You touched the screen and frowned as your eyes skimmed the text.
From: General
Time to come home.
“Well,” you muttered, your heart dropping to your stomach, “Shit.”
                                                   ***
Coming back home was harder than ever now. After catching up with Keith and Chloe, you were taken to your new apartment that was given to you by the agency as usual, and for the whole night you couldn’t sleep.
Even if there was no trace of Bucky in your new apartment –in your new life, you still couldn’t shake off this feeling. It was as if the moment you had entered the country, Bucky had entered your life in an instant.
Odds were, you wouldn’t really see him again. After all it was a big city, and Bucky wasn’t exactly the social type.
So your first week back in New York wasn’t exactly terrible. You were still waiting for your orders while getting to know to the city slowly, because after long missions it always took time for you to remember you had a real life there, real memories—
Well, as real as it could be, for a spy.
“Just see it as a vacation,” Chloe had said, “They threw you into another mission as soon as you got out of the country, it’s just a delayed vacation.”
As far as vacations went though, this one just sucked.
Maybe it was because you couldn’t keep away from places you and Bucky had been too, like this coffee place where you had first officially met.
You sipped your coffee, scrolling down on the news website as your eyes skimmed yet another article about Accords and whether you could trust superheroes or not, but you were soon distracted when someone pulled the seat across from you, making you look up from your phone.
And as soon as you did, your heart dropped.
You had to give it to the General, he was manipulative, he was a liar and he had betrayed your trust terribly but the one thing he had done right was training you well. Aside from that one second, you managed to adapt a look of nonchalance on your face, slowly putting your phone down.
“Hello Cap.”
Sam raised his brows and eyed you up and down.
“You’re back?”
You could swear he could hear your heartbeat and you shrugged your shoulders, looking around.
“Yeah,” you said, “Big apple and everything.”
“So much for the small town girl.”
“I have never been a small town girl,” you drawled, “Never been to Oregon either.”
“Yeah, I can tell.”
You turned your coffee cup on the table just so you could do something with your hands.
“Why?” he asked after a beat and you shifted your weight despite your whole training of feeling calm and collected, nervousness hitting you out of nowhere.
“You’re a veteran, Wilson,” you managed to say, “You don’t need me to tell you how the chain of command works. Army doesn’t care how we feel about orders.”
“I’m very familiar with how chain of command works,” he pointed out, “But you’re not a soldier, Y/N. You’re a spy.”
“That makes it even worse,” you stated, “I know it sounds like an excuse, but… you don’t know how my agency works. I don’t get to say no to orders, and I sure as hell don’t get to blow my own cover.”
“But you wanted to, didn’t you?”
Jesus Christ, Wilson was really good at this observation thing.
“Doesn’t matter what I want,” you said, “I’m no use to anyone if I develop a conscience.”
“But you did,” he insisted, “Why else would you come to help us? Why else would you warn him beforehand?”
“He told you about that?”
He shot you a look, “What do you think, Y/N?”
You scoffed a laughter. “I was feeling generous,” you said, “No other reason.”
He kept his gaze on you for a couple of seconds, as if trying to see whether you would cave before he took a deep breath.
“You know he was going to propose, right?”
That-
That was just too much. You could feel your jaw hanging as you stared at him in complete silence, his words echoing in your ears.
“No,” you said after a moment, then shook your head fervently, your nose in the air, “No you’re wrong.”
“I’m not,” Sam said, “Apparently he was looking for this… house painted in white with—a red door or something.”
Don’t cry.
Do not fucking cry.
Spies don’t cry over heartbreak.
You clenched your jaw and blinked back the tears, straightening your back.
“It’s a good thing he didn’t get to, then.”
“Y/N, he loved you.”
“No Sam, he loved someone who doesn’t exist,” you replied, “Sweet small town girl with sundresses and smiles and some house in the suburbs with kids and all that shit. Girls like me don’t get that ending, I have way too much blood on my hands.”
He pressed his lips together and you cleared your throat.
“How much does he hate me?”
“Why do you think he hates you?”
“Assassins aren’t good at forgiving,” you said, “I would know, we don’t have that talent.”
“That’s not a talent, that’s a choice.”
“It really isn’t,” you muttered, “So?”
“Why don’t you ask him?”
You let out a bitter laugh, “Yeah no. Actions have consequences and I’d rather not cross paths with the deadliest assassin in the world after double crossing him.”
“But you want him to forgive you.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Intuition,” he said and pushed his chair back to stand up.
“He didn’t kill your father, Y/N.”
You heaved a sigh.
“I know,” you said, “Trust me, I would’ve walked away so much easier if he had.”
“Enjoy your coffee,” he said and walked out of the coffee house. You threw your head back, closing your eyes.
“Yep. I shouldn’t have come back.”
                                                  ***
“I never thought I’d say this, but I kind of hate that we’re not living so close anymore,” you pressed the phone between your shoulder and your ear and opened the door to your apartment as Keith chuckled.
“I knew you’d miss me.”
“Shut up.”
“You’re a softie deep inside. Very very deep inside.”
“If you repeat that in front of anyone I swear to God…” you muttered and he groaned.
“Have I told you they’re putting me in the same team as Julian?”
“You guys have a new mission?”
“Not a long one probably.”
“Why the fuck am I—“
“Because you’re on a vacation,” he cut you off, “And also they’re probably going to make you a handler, that’s worth waiting for.”
“That or….”
“We’re not talking about that on the phone,” Keith said quickly, “Amateur.”
“Careful there, I’ll outrank you soon enough,” you said, walking to the bathroom to wash your hands. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Alright, see you later!” he said and hung up. You put your phone into your pocket, then washed your hands and made your way to the kitchen.
It was only when you put the wine bottle back into the fridge that you noticed something was off. Your body moved on its own accord, before you knew it you had already grabbed the knife in your boots and threw it to the figure in the dark corner of the room but he easily caught it, metal hitting what sounded like another kind of metal before he stepped out of the corner. Your breath caught in your throat, and for the first time in your life you froze, all the training leaving your mind.
You were supposed to be looking for a weapon, any kind of weapon but somehow, your body refused to move.
Bucky turned your knife in his hands, his gaze pinning you to your spot before he tilted his head.
“Hi honey,” he said, his voice way too cold. “I’m home.”
Chapter 24
657 notes · View notes
starshapedkookie · 4 years
Text
Falling
Tumblr media
↳soulmate (noun): a person who is bound to another through the strongest  level of emotional and physical connection. one is given a name on the body upon 18 years of age and any transgressions against the laws of soul-bonding will not occur without harm. 
REPOSTED/REWRITTEN FROM OLD BLOG
pairing: jungkook x female reader 
word count: 31.4k (sorry guys, another monster lol)
genre: soulmate/destiny au, college au, photographer jungkook, angst, fluff, smut
warnings: smut (protected sex, vanilla, light choking), swearing, angst!!!, fluff (jungkook is head over heels), drinking, mentions of anti-depressants and therapy
recommended songs: falling by harry styles, love again by dua lipa, hold on by chord overstreet, dusk till dawn by zayn & sia, when we were young by lost kings
FALL
The last thing you needed this morning was for your coffee to get knocked out of your hand and crash onto the pavement—but of course, that is exactly what happened.
“Ugh,” you groan loudly, bending down to pick up the plastic cup. You did not have time for this. It wasn’t even your first day of classes yet here you were, making a fool of yourself in front of everyone. You quickly dispose of the plastic in a recyclable can before hurrying off to find your class. You were already going to be late—but you knew you didn’t want to be that kid on the first day coming in hungover and 20 minutes late. So far though, that was going to be exactly you.
You rush into the building of your class before rushing up the stairs to the main auditorium. You glance down at your watch and you roll eyes. 7 minutes late—that’s doable right? You enter the large room and you curse to yourself when it’s quiet and the only words are coming from your professors mouth.
“Class I believe we’ve found our first day straggler,” the professor’s voice erupts in the room through his microphone and you freeze in your spot. Everyone’s eyes are on you and you actually want to crawl into a hole and bury yourself alive. Laughter fills the room and the professor goes back to the syllabus as you find a seat towards the back of the classroom. You sit down by yourself and lean back in the seat. Not only was your head absolutely busting from last night, you also had never felt more embarrassment in your entire life. You pull out your laptop and pull up the uploaded syllabus and try to hide yourself within your t-shirt.
“As humans, we think attraction is spontaneous and comes from here,” your professor pauses and points to his chest where his heart would be, “When in fact, that’s not true. Our brains run complex calculations that decide whom we think is attractive. This is what this course is about. The psychology behind gender, sex, and even the ideals of soulmates are all very much correlated in this course,” your ears drown out his talking once the ’S’ word is mentioned—no, not sex, but soulmate.
Soulmates—self explanatory but usually not discussed out in the open like this. Some people believed in them, others didn’t. Growing up, you had always heard about soulmates and their stories—your parents managing to bring it up at least once a week. It’s said that one will receive a name by 18. At 13, you and your older sister decided that it was all bogus as you had many crushes on boys growing up. You could like someone but that didn’t mean you were soulmates though. Your sister quickly flipped her stance about soulmates when she was 17, you 15, and suddenly a mark showed up on the inside of her finger. Not just any mark—but a name. With the name engraved in her skin like a tattoo and only a few months after that, she had met her match.
You on the other hand remained nameless for the rest of high school. You waited and waited for a name to show up by the age of 18—but it never did. You felt alone and like a glitch. At 19, you decided you weren’t going to sit around and wait for a soulmate. Besides, you were young—since when did you have to find your life partner so soon?
Now at 21, nearing 22, you were still nameless. Did it bother you? You were indifferent. You felt lucky to be able to experience college without being tied down to something serious but now as graduation was coming faster than ever and it seemed like everyone around you was finding their other half—worry did sink into your skin sometimes.
“You,” someone snaps you from your reverie and you think the professor has called you again until you see a two guys sitting two rows back from you, one of them pointing at you.
You point at yourself wondering if he’s got the right girl. As you look around the class, everyone is shuffling around to what seems to be small groups. Had you zoned out that bad? You look back at the two guys and gather your belongings before heading their way.
“Uh, hi?” You say awkwardly as you shuffle towards them.
“Told you she’d come,” one guys nudges the other one with a smirk, “Wanna be in our group?”
“Group?” You look back to the front of the classroom and see a slide displayed “FINAL PROJECT” shining bright. “Yeah, sure whatever,” you sit down beside of the chatty male before he finally introduces himself.
“I’m Namjoon,” he smiles.
“Y/N,” you reply looking at the other guy who has stayed silent this whole interaction.
“This is Jungkook,” Namjoon says and Jungkook looks at you offering a weak smile.
“Hey,” he says simply. Jungkook has pretty eyes, round and doe-like, innocent yet inviting. You catch yourself noticing the ink lining his forearms and knuckles.
You take a seat beside of Namjoon and focus your attention back to the board. Your professor explains each group has a variety of topics to choose from and present to him later at the end of the semester. As much as you weren’t in the mood for much talking, you were thankful this Namjoon and Jungkook guy asked you to be in their group because you’re not sure you would have had the courage to ask anyone else.
Lecture ends with an online syllabus quiz due at the end of the week and you quickly gather your things to leave.
“Um,” you start before you get ready to leave, “here's my number. Just text whenever you want to get started,” you slip the piece of paper to Namjoon. Your eyes meet Jungkook’s again and something stirs deep within your stomach. Namjoon’s voice breaks your gaze.
“Alright, sounds good. Nice to me you.”
“You guys too.” And then you’re off to your next class, hoping you won’t cause as much attention in that one.
.
“Jesus Christ,” you exhale deeply, lying down on Taehyung’s bed. He eyes you from his desk.
“Rough first day?” He inquires, swirling back and forth in his chair.
“You have no idea Tae,” you groan rolling over to look at him. “I should have known this day would be shit the second I slept through my alarm.”
He gives you a small smile, “At least it’s over now. You got much homework?”
You shake your head, “No thank god.”
“Do you want to grab dinner with Jimin and I then?”
Your stomach growls loudly at the idea of food. You don’t even say anything and you don’t need to. Taehyung gives you a laugh before slipping on his ridiculously ugly fur-lined Gucci mules. You stand up from his bed, straightening out your giant t-shirt and running shorts. Yours and Taehyung’s fashion clashed tremendously, but that’s what made you guys—well you.
You and Taehyung meet Jimin at a Thai place downtown. It’s cheap and delicious and a bowl of pad-thai to sooth your brain after today sounded heavenly. Jimin is standing outside, wearing a put together yet sporty outfit. He smiles when he sees the two of you approaching.
“Hey guys!” Jimin smiles widely, leaning over to give you a tight squeeze. He pulls away and gives Taehyung an even bigger hug, the two of them pecking each other on the lips quickly. You watch the two soulmates in awe. As much as you wanted to believe the soulmate thing was bullshit—these two were living proof that it works. And deep down, it hurts.
The three of you order your food and lean back into your chair across from the two lovers as they converse about their day.
“What about you Y/N? Did you have a good first day?” Jimin asks. He’s got to the be the most considerate person you’ve ever met.
“Are you sure you want to hear her spiel?” Taehyung mutters sarcastically and you poke your tongue out at him.
“It was horrible Jimin,” you pout, “First, I slept through my alarm which I never do, was hungover as sit so I needed some coffee and then I got my iced coffee that was five dollars and then dropped it everywhere—“
“Wait, you were running late and still got coffee?” Jimin raises an eyebrow.
“Yeah?” You say in a duh-like tone. Jimin and Taehyung laugh at your before you continue.
“Then I walked into my first class and the fucking professor had the audacity to call me the first day straggler! How awful is that?!”
“I mean it’s true,” Taehyung grins and you flip him off.
“Not. The. Point,” you offer dramatically, “And then all of a sudden these two guys are calling me over to be in their group for a project and they’re both extremely cute although one talked way too much and one didn’t talk at all—“ “Which one was cuter?” Jimin asks curiously. Taehyung swats at his arm.
“The quiet one,” you admit, “At least to me. And then after that, I went to my last class and that went smoothly. However it started going downhill again when I went and grabbed lunch and I got a salad from East—“ “Oh no,” Jimin groans, “East dining hall? Y/N you know that place is whack.”
“I know that but I was hungry! And then I ate my salad and then while I was driving back to my apartment I literally almost shit myself.”
The three of you begin to laugh at how ridiculous your day actually was.
“I mean what kind of fucking luck is that?!”
“You’ve definitely had better days for sure…” Taehyung says eying you from across the table, “I mean look at that outfit and hair,” he tsks.
“Hey! Fuck you,” you pick up your straw wrapper and throw it at him across from you. He’s laughing just as your food arrives. It looks and even smells better, the three of you immediately digging in.
The three of you continue small chatter amongst yourselves, Jimin and Taehyunf being too cute and in love for their own good. You are in the middle of slurping your noodles when your nearly choke on your food when a new, but familiar face walks into the restaurant. The Jungkook guy from your class. And he’s not alone as a girl who is extremely pretty trails in behind of him.
“What are you looking at?” Taehyung asks and he turns over his shoulder to follow your line of sight. “Who is that cutie?” He then says. Jimin agrees.
“It’s the guy from my class,” you whisper, hoping he doesn’t spot you. “The quiet one,” you specify. Jimin smirks before nudging Taehyung.
“You’re right,” Taehyung says looking back at you. For some reason, despite not knowing anything about Jungkook but his name, you dislike the way the random girl is looking at him. It doesn’t settle well in your stomach.
“Guess he has a soulmate,” you say slightly disappointed staring into your food.
Jimin speaks up, “No he doesn’t.”
You and Taehyung furrow your eyebrows at him.
“Are you guys forgetting soulmates is literally what I’m doing my thesis on? I can spot them when I see them,” he says keeping his voice low, “That’s not his soulmate, trust me.”
“…Right,” you hesitate. You glance back towards Jungkook and his date to find that they have been seated elsewhere in the restaurant. You bite your lip, stirring your noodles around, the weird feeling you felt when you first spotted Jungkook still deep rooted in your stomach. You don’t mention Jungkook again the entire night, only sparing glances around the restaurant to get another look at him. You come up short.
.
Your first week back at school is nearly over as Friday approaches faster than ever. Thankfully, unlike your first day shambles, the rest of your week went fairly smooth. You’ve managed to get ahead in most of your classes already and you can’t wait for the afternoon nap you’re gifting yourself later today.
Ever since Monday, you have decided to sit beside Namjoon and Jungkook in your psychology lecture now. They were easy to talk to, albeit Jungkook still quite shy, but being with your final project group was convenient. Speaking of Jungkook—he was no where to be seen today.
“Where’s your friend?” You inquire as you sit beside Namjoon. Normally Jungkook is right beside of him as the two of them always get to class earlier than you.
Namjoon shrugs, “I don’t know, he didn’t answer any of my texts this morning.”
You brush it off as your jackass of a professor begins his lecture. Your first official lecture of the semester is on the basis of the human brain and it’s connection to relationships. You nearly roll your eyes out of your head, how fun. Ten or so minutes go back of you typing up notes trying to keep up with him until rummaging disrupts your thoughts.
You glance to your left and spot Jungkook coming in late, his hair underneath a baseball cap, keeping his eyes down as he makes his way over to you and Namjoon. You inwardly wish the professor would call him out on his tardiness but of course, that doesn’t happen. Maybe your professor is a jackass and a sexist?
“Look who is late today,” You whisper as he sits down beside you. His brown eyes give you a glance before nodding to Namjoon.
“Sorry,” he gives you a soft smile, “Today has not been my day,” he briefly explains.
You raise your eyebrows as him, but decide against questioning him.
“I get it,” you respond.
“Hey! You in back,” your professor is suddenly stopping his lecture and pointing his finger towards you. Oh for fucks sake. “If you’re going to talk in my class, don’t bothering coming as I post the lecture slides online afterwards.”
You feel embarrassment taking over your body as Namjoon to your right is snickering at you and Jungkook on your left is sending you an apologetic stare.
Definitely sexist.
.
The next couple weeks of classes went by in a flash. So far, they were all going well and you liked all your professors—minus Mr. Sexist Jackass for psychology—but other than that, you were having no trouble. You had been able to meet other people and get into study group chats which you knew would help in the next few weeks as your first midterm was quickly approaching.
If there was one thing you were slacking on though, it was your group project for said psychology class. Which is why you texted Namjoon and Jungkook to meet at a coffee place on campus to discuss getting started and what roles you all would take.
“Hey,” Jungkook is the first to arrive and you give him a sweet smile. Within the past two weeks, he had become more open to talking to you and you sensed a blossoming friendship between you and him.
“Hi, how are you?” You ask him as you move your stuff out of the way so he could sit down. He sits across from you, his eyes meeting yours.
“I’m alright,” he says with not much energy taking a gulp from whatever drink he was sipping on. It looked to be an iced americano. “You?”
“Pretty good, although I’m already stressed about exams coming up,” you let your worries slip from you.
Jungkook shakes his head, “I haven’t thought about exams yet,” he says honestly.
You give him a hard stare before saying, “What even is your major? I know Namjoon is pre-med but I don’t think you’ve told me.”
He swallows the rest of his drink, “Sports medicine,” he responds with a straight smile.
“Hm,” you say, “So do you dress up as Sporty Spice for Halloween then?”
He lets out a laugh before nodding, “Yeah, every year.”
You laugh with him and you can’t help but notice how great his smile is. He really is attractive, you can’t deny that.
“Where the fuck is Namjoon?” You groan after your laughter dies out, looking down at your watch.
“Here!” You jump in your seat as Namjoon comes up behind you and you nearly fall out of your seat. Namjoon apologizes quickly about being late before scooting to sit beside you.
“Don’t worry about it,” you shake your head, “So, when do you guys want to start working on our project? I would hate for us to procrastinate and have to cram at the end of the semester.”
Namjoon nods, “I was thinking the same. We need to choose a topic first though… got any ideas?” He takes out a pen and notepad to scribble stuff down. You could tell Namjoon was just as studious as you were… Jungkook on the other hand was definitely more of a “go with the flow” type of student—not necessarily a bad thing though.
“Kook, any ideas?” Namjoon asks and Jungkook shrugs before throwing out there—
“Sex,” He says and you snicker at his suggestion. “What? That’s all the professor talks about, might as well give him something he’s interested in…” Jungkook retaliates.
You glance at Namjoon and he rolls his eyes.
“I get what you’re saying Kook but I think we should be more specific than that,” Namjoon deadpans and you nod agreeing with him. “Y/N?”
“Mmmm,” you hum, “Maybe we could do research on how sex differs between different people?”
Namjoon nods slowly, looking over at Jungkook quickly, “What if looked at how sex affects the body when it comes to soulmates?”
You throat goes dry at Namjoon’s suggestion and you have to compose yourself so you won’t give yourself away. You look over at Jungkook who looks just as uncomfortable as you do and it makes you furrow your eyebrows. Maybe Jimin’s sixth sense was right?
“I mean is there even research for that?” You look at him, your question somewhat patronizing.
“Oh yeah,” he says matter-of-factly, “There’s lots of research on how the body responds when people are intimate with people that aren’t their soulmates.”
You glance at Jungkook again whose eyes are dancing around the room and you’re not even sure he’s tuned into the conversation anymore.
“What do you think Jungkook?” You ask him.
“Sure,” he says, “Whatever will get us the grade.”
“Alright then, let’s meet up again next week after we each do some research,” Namjoon smiles before gathering his things up, “I hate to bounce like this but my tutoring shift starts in ten minutes and those freshman are so gullible I can make twice as much money off of them,” he says before waving you two off, leaving you and Jungkook alone.
“Does he really scam freshman?” You ask, somewhat horrified at his statement. Jungkook lets out a laugh, visibly a lot more comfortable now that the previous conversation has passed.
“Only when then they’re dumb enough,” he responds before he begins to gather his things too, “See in you class?”
You nod once, noticing what seems to be a silver Rolex covering his left wrist. Who the hell has a Rolex in college?
“See you in class.”
. “Well, well look who the cat dragged in?” Jimin smiles at you from behind the bar. Yeah—not only was Jimin currently getting his master’s in psychology, he also bartended on the weekends at one of your local bars.
You give him a smile as Taehyung isn’t far behind you, putting his head on your shoulder to look up at the menu.
“Hi babe,” Jimin smiles and Taehyung returns one, wrapping his arms around your front.
“Hi,” he smiles, visibly much more drunk than you were. “I’m pretending she’s you so don’t get jealous okay?” He slurs.
“Hey!” You fight back looking at Taehyung, “Crazy how people change after you ‘fall in love’,” you air quote yourself with sarcasm.
Taehyung laughs in your ear, “You should try it sometime babe,” under normal circumstances, you would have felt very offended at his remark because he knows your situation but with alcohol running through your veins—you let it slide.
“Can I have two green tea shots?” You ask Jimin and he nods quickly.
“Make it four,” Taehyung orders and Jimin laughs before nodding, heading off to make your shots.
Taehyung finally lets go of your middle and you both settle to lean on the bar whilst your drinks are being made.
“How was your week babe?” Taehyung asks, “Better I presume? You look hot so I’m assuming all is well?” He raises an eyebrow at you.
You gives him a smile, glancing down at your outfit. Your mini-wrap skirt and skin tight tank top was as basic as it could get, but it made you look and feel good about yourself.
“Good as it gets Tae,” you say flinging your hair behind your shoulder. On a scale 1 to 10 of drunkeness, you were probably a good 5 but you knew once Jimin was finished with your shots, you would be closer to a 7 or 8.
“I know I’m going to sound fucking crazy right now but it’s kind of just registering what I said to you about falling in love and I did not mean it like that—“ “Taehyung it’s fine,” you shake your head, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“No,” he shakes his head, “It’s not… I’m sorry I’m just really drunk right now,” he groans almost painfully.
“I know,” you smile at him before noticing Jimin has come back with your shots. “And you’re about to be even more drunk so whatever you say, apologize for it now.”
He looks up at the ceiling closing his eyes, “I’m sorry to whoever for the dumb shit I will say the rest of the evening, amen.”
“He’s religious now?” Jimin asks scooting the glasses over to you two.
“Apparently,” you eye him before taking a glass for you and handing one to Taehyung.
“To… senior year!” Taehyung says loudly over the music and you nod, clinking your glasses together.
“To senior year!” You say before downing the shot in its entirety. “Oh my god Jimin,” you groan, “I will never forgive you for getting me on these.”
“What can I say? If you’re gonna drink might as well enjoy it,” is the last thing he says before checking on another customer beside you and Taehyung.
“Oh god,” Taehyung says after downing his shot, looking over your shoulder.
“What?” You ask him, getting ready to down your second one.
“It’s the quiet one, the cute one,” Taehyung’s words confuse you until you begin to piece them together. Quiet… cute… Jungkook.
You take a glance over your shoulder and you nearly jump out of your skin when you see Jungkook looking right back at you. He gives you a small wave and smile and you do the same. He looks really good—blue jeans a t-shirt with his lovely ink being show. What intrigues you the most though is a 35mm camera hanging around his neck. You don’t recognize any of the people he is with before you turn back around, feeling your cheeks heat up even though no one could see it.
“Jungkook,” you say to Taehyung, “That’s his name.”
As much as you wished Taehyung would stop staring in his direction, you knew he was drunk and fighting him on it wouldn’t get you anywhere.
“Well, I think Jungkook,” Taehyung grabs his second shot, “Is hot as fuck and you should totally make a move,” Taehyung finally looks back at you and downs his liquor without waiting on you. You follow suit, the shot slivering down your throat.
“No,” you shake your head, “I don’t think he’s into me, plus I don’t even know if he has a partner or not.”
“You heard what Jimin said a couple weeks ago,” he retorts.
“How does Jimin know he’s right? I mean it’s not like we as humans have a fucking ‘yeah I have a soulmate’ scent to us like were goddamn dogs or something. I mean as much as I would totally make a move on him, I just don’t think I can do—“
“Uh, Y/N,” Taehyung nudges you from your rant.
“What?” You return harshly. A small smirk rises on his face before he points beside of you. You look to your left and your eyes widen when you see Jungkook coming up behind of you.
“J-Jungkook,” you manage to get out, “Hi.”
He approaches you and Taehyung with a warm smile, “Hey Y/N.” His eyes move to Taehyung and you clear your throat to introduce them.
“Jungkook this is Taehyung, Taehyung… Jungkook,” you smile between the two handsome men.
“Nice you to meet you,” Taehyung smiles widely and Jungkook nods.
“What are you doing out tonight?” You ask Jungkook and he steps closer to you as someone pushes past him.
“Trying to relieve some stress,” he answers with a laugh, “Can I get you a drink?” He scratches the back of his head, glancing over at Taehyung again.
“Oh, are you sure?” You ask him before he nods again. You give him a smile, “Alright, whatever you’re having I’ll have.”
“Jimin!” You yell over the music to get his attention. He stops drying a glass and immediately comes to you, his eyes falling on the companion behind of you.
“Can I get two Michelob's?” Jungkook says and you can feel his chest pressing into your back as the overwhelming amount of people pushing and pulling in the bar.
Jimin nods before quickly going into the cooler, popping the tops from the bottle and sliding them over to you.
“Thanks,” you both say grabbing them.
“Thank you,” you turn around to Jungkook and in this position, you underestimated how close you actually are to him. Chest to chest and his head towers over as he looks down at you with a smile.
“No problem,” he says, “Do you wanna go outside? Get some air and more space?”
It’s like he read your mind. “Yeah, sure.”
You tap Taehyung on the shoulder to get his attention from Jimin.
“I’m going outside, I’ll text you if I can’t find you again.”
He nods slowly, “I’ll be right here babe,” he sends you a wink before turning back around.
Jungkook’s eyes lay on Taehyung’s back a little longer than you would like. What’s he thinking right now? Without any warning, Jungkook grabs your hand gently and starts pulling you away from the crowded bar. You aren’t exactly sober right now and you can only hope that your hand isn’t sweating as much as you think it is. Jungkook leads you out to the deck that’s also crowded and loud, but leaves a lot more room to breathe.
You lean against the railing and Jungkook does the same across from you, just mere inches separating the two of you.
“Are you here with just Taehyung?” He asks you taking a sip of his beer. You follow suit. Thank god he ordered Michelob—a man with taste.
You nod, “Yeah… he wanted to go out more than I did but, here we are,” you try to make a joke at your drunkeness but fail miserably. Jungkook gives you a short lived smile.
“So… are you two like, together?” Jungkook says his words slowly, not wanting to say or imply the wrong thing. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head after he asks his question.
You start to laugh, having to cover your mouth so you don’t cackle loud enough to draw attention. Jungkook looks confused before you say—
“Taehyung’s gay,” you explain after your laughter dies down, “His partner is the bartender Jimin.”
Jungkook’s face falls and his doe eyes bulge out of his head. “Holy shit I didn’t know, I didn’t mean—“
“Jungkook it’s fine,” you wave him off, “You’re not the first person to ever ask if Tae and I are a thing. As much as I wish the universe was that nice to me to give me a man like Taehyung but no,” you smile although deep down it does hurt. You grew up with Taehyung hoping he would be your soulmate and when Jimin’s name appeared on the inside of his pinky, that dream bursted real fast.
“What about you?” You ask him. Now’s your chance. It’s got to be the alcohol that’s making this conversation easy as cake because normally, talk of this nature would not be spoken in public with this many people around.
Jungkook rolls his tongue in his cheek and you swear your heart skips a beat. He starts to shake his head, “No I just got out of a relationship.”
“Oh,” your face falls. So was he with a girlfriend at dinner a few weeks back?
“Yeah I guess the universe hates me too,” he says nonchalantly and the air suddenly feels thick with tension. So he didn’t have a soulmate? Nor did you? What were the odds?
“I hate to sound weird or creepy but,” you pause, unsure if you wanted to ask but internally you say fuck it. “I saw you a few weeks ago at the Thai place downtown with a girl, so that’s why I asked.”
Jungkook’s eyes are hard to read as he gulps his beer. You’re not sure he’s that drunk but if he is, he’s great at hiding it.
“Yeah… that was her,” he nods, “But like I said the universe is cruel and decide to give her a name after a couple months of dating,” he scoffs and almost seems angry—which I guess he has a right to be.
“Oh shit,” you mumble, “I’m sorry,” you offer.
He shakes his head, “It’s fine, what can I do about it now you know?”
You nod slowly, “Look forward to the future? Who knows what might happen.”
“You’re right,” he smiles tenderly, “To the future?” He raises his bottle.
“To the future,” you smile clinking the glass together.
“So who are you here with?” You ask him.
“Just my roommates, Yugyeom and Mingyu,” he explains while licking his lips and your heart skips a beat again.
“You don’t strike me as the type that gets out much you know,” you push a finger into his chest, narrowing your eyesight. 1 to 10 on the drunk scale? An 8 or 9 at the moment.
“Why’s that?” He amuses.
“Jeon, you barely spoke to me the first two weeks of class. I thought you were fucking mute.”
He suddenly steps closer to you and it forces you to drop your finger.
“I’m shy okay?” He says with a pout. “I’m good now though? Right?” You swear his eyes are like a damn puppy dog looking at you like that. Your throat goes dry before you nod.
“For the most part I guess,” you offer weakly batting your eyelashes at him. You glance down his body quickly and notice the way his light blue jeans hug his tiny waist and thick thighs deliciously. Jesus fucking Christ.
“What this all about?” you point to his camera that’s dangling between his pecs. You needed to get your mind back to PG and fast.
He smiles lightly, “My hobby,” he says simply, “I like to take pictures for memories sake.”
“Memories sake,” you repeat, “So do you take it with you everywhere then?”
“Only if I think something interesting might happen that needs to be captured,” he shrugs. God he was so attractive and the longer you stared at him, the faster you were falling down a hole.
“What have you captured tonight then?”
“Nothing much really,” he glances down your front quickly and he thinks you don’t notice until you smirk at him.
“Take a picture of me,” you tilt your head with a smile, “I’m a treasure that should be captured, don’t ya think?” the alcohol was getting to you bad. When Jungkook laughs at you, you swear you saw two faces and you knew you needed to sober the fuck up.
“Alright, fine,” he says, stepping away from you to adjust his lens for the lighting. You lean onto the railing with you elbow, giving him a smile when you look towards his camera. He snaps the picture twice and the flash momentarily blinds you. He looks back at his view finder and you step to him to see it.
“See, a treasure,” you say.
He nods slowly before looking down at you, “Definitely.”
You feel yourself stepping closer to him, leaning up to get a full view of his face. You bite your lip as he leans down, your noses brushing together before you step back.
“Wait… so you don’t have a soulmate?” You keep your voice low and hesitant.
He shakes his head, “No,” he says, “See.” He shows his wrists and in between his fingers and nothing. You do the same for him, moving your bracelets and watch back. He gives you a small smirk before leaning down to close the gap between the two of you. You inhale his clean scent as you push up on your toes to deepen the kiss. With your hand that isn’t occupied you bring it to the side of his face to caress his skin. His lips are so fucking soft and you whine as he pulls away.
“I would ask you to go home with me but I think you’re too drunk,” he says honestly and you furrow your eyebrows at him with a sad pout.
“Hey I’m fine,” you defend yourself.
“I just don’t want you to think I’m that type of guy,” he says, “I’m pretty far from that.”
His words are sweet and considerate and you’re not sure any guy you have met that would be in this position to not jump straight into your pants. As much as you wouldn’t mind Jungkook to do that—you could see where he was coming from. Besides, you were really drunk and really tired so you probably wouldn’t even get off which would defeat the purpose of getting laid.
“Jungkook I know, I can see that,” you tell him before you bite your lip again, “But I am a great cuddlier if that has any weight?”
A large smile falls on his lips and his nose scrunches up from giggling. “Alright, you’re the big spoon though,” he deadpans.
You roll your eyes, “We’ll see about that.” Jungkook smirks before grabbing your hand for both of you to close out your tabs and head to his place.
.
You wake up the next morning in an unfamiliar, but quite comfortable bed. You blink your eyes slowly to let light in and you stretch your feet our from your fetal position. Once your vision focuses you see that you’re alone underneath a grey duvet and you nearly freak out until you quickly remember your previous evening.
You had got to Jungkook’s place around 12:30 AM and aside from light making out, nothing extreme happened between you two as Jungkook insisted on being sober before going there. He obviously lost the argument about who was going to be the big and little spoon as you both fell asleep comfortably with his arms around your front. Speaking of—where was he?
You push the covers from your body and see you’re dressed in an oversized t-shirt, your clothes neatly folded on his dresser. You memory is slightly fuzzy, unsure if you changed your clothes yourself or if Jungkook dressed you. Heat rushes to you face at the thought. Damn, you hoped you hadn’t seemed desperate but when you were drunk—that tended to happen. Although not as much anymore as random hookups slowed down the older you got as most people were linking up with their destined lovers.
Fuck—you think, you had nearly forgotten perhaps the biggest detail of last night. Jungkook didn’t have a soulmate. The thought made you giddy on the inside. Maybe he was just as fucked up as you were.
You’re about to leave Jungkook’s room until he suddenly appears in the doorway.
“Oh, hey I was just coming to see if you were up,” he gives you a soft smile and you have to scramble your eyes away from his heavily built chest and torso. You find that he has tattoos all the way up his knuckles to his shoulder. Fuck.
“I just woke up,” you mumble stepping towards the door.
“I made some breakfast,” he says reaching towards your hand gently, “I have some medicine too if you’re hungover.”
You smile at him as he pulls you to him to walk you down the short hallway to his kitchen. It smelt of bacon, eggs, and toast—just what you needed.
“Thanks,” you say gratefully as you take a seat on one of his barstools. He slides a plate over to you as well as a bottle of Advil. “You already ate?” You ask him as you begin to dive into the food that will surely settle your rumbling stomach.
“Sorry,” he laughs, “I woke up awhile ago and went for a run so I had to eat.”
You swat your hand not caring, “It’s fine—wait, what time is it?” Your eyes bulge.
He looks at his silver watch, “Almost noon,” he says, his eyes not looking at tired as he probably is.
“Noon?!” You say with a mouthful of bread, “What the hell I never this sleep this late…” you say after swallowing.
“You drank a lot last night Y/N,” he laughs at you and you give him your middle finger. He rests on his hands across from you in the kitchen and you can’t help but notice the veins in his arms. Was the universe really being this good to you? After all this time, giving you access to someone who is this fine and who doesn’t have a partner? You almost couldn’t believe it.
“Sorry if I was annoying, or needy, or anything like that,” you say somewhat embarrassed that Jungkook had to deal with you even though neither of you know each other that well.
His eyes soften, “It’s fine. You were funny.”  
You’ve devoured your plate of food and you hop down from the barstool to clean your plate. Since he cooked, the least you could was put away your mess.
“Oh I’m hilarious,” you give him a snide look before you bump him with your hip to scoot him over so you can wash your plate. He obliges whilst watching your every move. Jungkook seeing you in one of his favorite t-shirts is driving him delirious.
“But seriously though,” your voice cuts his inappropriate train of thought, “If I said anything incriminating, don’t tell anyone,” you give him a side look as you dry your plate. Jungkook laughs before a smirk appears on his face.
“I quite enjoyed your rambling,” he steps closer to you as you turn to look up at him. “It was very… what’s the word… suggestive,” he looks off as if he’s running deep thoughts.
You roll your eyes—yup, definitely horny and needy words were said. Feeling somewhat brave—maybe it was because you weren’t really hungover and the fact that Jungkook is standing there like that in front of you—you step towards him so your chests are touching.
“Maybe you should remind me what I said one day then?” You whisper only so he can hear. He chuckles through his nose before placing one of his hands on your back to pull you flush against him.
“Why not right now?” He says, his nose dipping to touch yours. His eyes are soft but carry a darkness to them you can’t quite read. You give him a small nod before you move your head to place your lips on his. Your mouths mold together like putty slowly before he slips his tongue into your mouth to tease you.  
You pull away quickly, “Wait, don’t you have roommates?” You whisper again looking around the quiet apartment. You noticed how clean it was to be housed by 3 men in their early twenties.
“They’re asleep,” he says, caressing your lower back, his hand begging to go to your ass but he restrains himself. “So you’ll have to be quiet, unlike last night,” he raises an eyebrow at you.
“Challenge accepted,” you grab his face to pull him back down to you to connect your lips once more.
His hands grapple your waist desperately to pull you flush against him. He smells like laundry and cotton, the scent driving you mad. As Jungkook realizes that the two of you are still in his kitchen and Yugyeom or Mingyu could easily come out of their rooms any moment, he pulls away from you and you follow him back into his room. He wastes no time shutting his door and pushing you against it.
You felt yourself growing dizzier by the second as he continued to kiss you with a gentle force that you’ve never experienced before. He was probably the best kisser you’ve ever kissed.  You could tell he wanted to touch you and you wanted him to touch you so you began to trace your hands up his sculpted back and pushing your hips out towards him.
Jungkook now having your permission, one of his hands trail up your thigh to push his t-shirt away from your backside, his large hand massaging the skin carefully and calculated. Suddenly you found his lips on your neck as he pushes your body further into his door.
“Jungkook,” you groaned quietly as he nipped at the sensitive skin. He pulls your thigh up against his leg and you nearly let out a moan when you feel his hardening cock press into your center.
“Fuck,” you breathe out as you let out an experimental roll of your hips against his. Jungkook pulls back with a short chuckle before kissing your lips gently again.
“Quiet,” he laughs again and you push his chest away from yours to get him to sit on the edge of his bed. You crawl onto his lap, straddling his tiny waist and thick thighs. You continued to kiss like no tomorrow before you placed your palm over his center.
“Shit,” he groans into your mouth as you palm him slowly and torturously. “Y/N, wait, are you sure?”  
You pull your hand back and stare down at him with hazy eyes. You nod frantically, “Yes, are you?”
“God yes,” he breathes out and in one smooth motion, he flips you two over with him standing in between your legs. He begins to take his shirt from your body and you happily help him and his eyes immediately go to your breasts, your nipples taut for him.
He kisses you again before kissing down your neck and then down over your boobs, his tongue swirling and his teeth nipping at all the right places. Jungkook finds himself on his knees, right in front of where you need each other most. He spreads your legs a little more before he goes right in to kiss your center over your underwear. Your head falls back as you rest on your hands watching him bite his lip in excitement. You’d never had a guy go down on your the first hookup—you thought you could be in love right now.
His brown eyes glance at you briefly before you nod for him to make sure what he was going was okay. He fingers pull at your underwear and you lift your hips to help him drag the material down your legs. He grabs your hips and pulls your towards him, his mouth going straight to work on you.
You shut your eyes at the feeling unable to keep them open as he laps up and down your slit. He kisses you with hunger and when he finds your clit, the moan that escapes your mouth is loud and embarrassing.
“Oh god, Jungkook,” he smirks against your pussy before continuing to lap at your sensitive bud, his fingers now teasing your entrance.
He slips in one finger, pumping it slowly before entering a second—stretching you just how you need. You fall back on your elbows and your toes curl when you feel an orgasm close approaching.
“Fuck, fuck,” your hips raise as he focuses on your clit, his eyes never leaving your face. He can tell you’re about to come and he’d be damned if he didn’t bring you there. Two more kitten licks send you over the edge and you climax hard having to bite your lip so you don’t make much noise.
Jungkook licks his lips as he comes back to you to kiss you. You welcome him with open arms and you pull him on top of you. You needed him now and the issue in his pants showed he wanted you just as much. You help him push down his sweats and boxers and when you first get sight of his dick, your mouth nearly drops. Okay—the universe was definitely helping you out right now.
You reach down between you, wrapping your hands around his girth to fully harden him. He sucks in a deep breath when you pull and tug at his sensitive skin. You take his pre cum on your thumb and rub it around to make the slip easier. His forehead falls against your shoulder as you continue to jerk him off. His breathing increases as each pull comes from your hand and he’ quickly pushing your hand away.
“I wanna be inside you baby,” he says and it sends a shockwave through your core.
Jungkook finds a condom from his side table and rolls it on quickly. He positions himself between you, his nose brushing against yours as he pecks your lips.
“Ready?” He asks you as he guides his tip into you. Both of your mouths fall agape, a small whine coming from Jungkook’s throat as he pushes deeper into you. “Fuck—Y/N, you’re so tight.”
You lift your hips to help him get as deep as possible and when he bottoms out, you’re unsure if you’ve ever felt this full your entire life. His forehead falls against your shoulder once more and he kisses your exposed skin gently as he starts to slowly thrust in and out of you.
He feels more than amazing and your whole body feels on fire.
“Jungkook,” you breathe out as you wrap your legs around his back, “Faster, please.” You don’t care about sounding desperate.
He sits up on his elbows and obeys, snapping his hips against you harder and quicker. You hold onto his cheeks, your fingertips pulling at his hair and neither of you can be quiet now.
“Shit,” he marvels at the way he disappears inside of you, your cunt squeezing around him so he won’t leave.
“Jungkook—ah,” he hits your deepest spot in you and he sticks his thumb in your mouth to bite down on to shut you up. His other fingers grip the side of your neck and you feel like you could pass out from his ministrations.
“I’m not gonna last much longer,” he whispers in your ear and you nod pulling his face down to you, snapping your hips to meet up with his. You found yourself clenching around his cock as Jungkook’s breaths get shakier and shakier. “Fuck Y/N.”
“Don’t stop,” you managed to get out as he hammered you into his mattress, hitting your g-spot perfectly—another orgasm quickly coming into your system. Jungkook’s face was contorted and tortured as he chased his high deep inside of you. “Come on Jungkook,” you whisper beside his ear and he lifts his head up, crashing his lips onto yours.
Between your desperate attempts to be quiet and Jungkook’s relentless pace, you come again around his cock fast and hard, pulsating around him in spurts.
“Ah—fuck,” Jungkook’s hips ram into yours deeply as he finally finds his release. He collapses on top of your frame, his elbows the only thing holding him up. He pulls himself out of you a moment later, but he doesn’t move his body from above you.
Both of you are breathing heavy, it being the only sound radiating in the room. You caress  the right side of his face, pushing his bangs away from his forehead. He leans into your touch with a small smile before kissing your wrist gently. He then rolls his body from yours, discarding of his condom quickly.
You both turn to each other as Jungkook throws an arm lazily around your waist.
“Are you even real?” His deep voice suddenly says with his eyes closed. You give him a sheepish smile as he opens his eyes.
“The universe is fucking funny huh?” You say and Jungkook laughs deep within his chest.
“Very funny,” he mumbles before watching your face intently.
“Now what?” You ask obliviously. Sure, you had your hookups on and off before but with Jungkook—something felt different—in a good way. Like he wasn’t supposed to be a hookup—but something more.
He shrugs, “Whatever you wanna be.”
You bite your lip hesitating before saying, “I know you just got out of a relationship so I don’t want you to feel rushed or anything.”
“It’s fine Y/N,” he gives you a small smile, “I’m fine with whatever you’re fine with. As long as you don’t break my heart.”
You laugh, swatting at his chest playfully, “You mean as long as you don’t break my heart.”
He smirks, “Deal.”
.
You meet with Namjoon and Jungkook the following week to begin working on your project. You three decided on meeting in the library after all of your classes were over for the day to keep it convenient. You and Jungkook finished around the same time and ended up grabbing some food before heading out to the library. It had not been that long since you and Jungkook hooked up and you two began to text and Snapchat each other everyday. Your friendship with Jungkook hadn’t changed in any way as you two didn’t officially have a label yet, but now one look at him sent you weak to the knees.  
“You guys seriously couldn’t wait for me to get food?!” Namjoon shows up on the second floor of the library around 6:25 PM. You and Jungkook laugh at him as he sits down. He looks exhausted.
“Rough day?” You ask him as he sits down from across from you and Jungkook.
He lets out a deep sigh, “Have you ever amputated a finger before?”
You and Jungkook give each other an odd glance before scrunching your nose, “No, what the fuck?” Jungkook mutters.
Namjoon gives you a straight smile, “Well how about 4 fingers? That was my day summed up and I still think I’m queasy,” he shakes his head slowly.
You furrow your eyebrows at him, “Joon, don’t you wanna be a doctor?”
“Family medicine, not surgery or anything gross like that,” he explains and that makes much more sense—though I’m sure Namjoon knows medical school has a lot more than family medicine waiting for him.
“Gotcha,” you pull up the documents you have saved for your research on your computer. Under the table, Jungkook nudges your knee with his and you have to fight the urge to smile.
Namjoon watches, the two of you oblivious.
“You look happy,” he says. Jungkook looks up from his phone and you from your screen.
“Who?” You and Jungkook same at the same time.
Namjoon narrows his eyes, “Both of you… strange,” he licks his lips pondering on his words.
You glance at Jungkook before turning back to your screen, not wanting to be caught in his stare.
“Am I not allowed to be in a good mood?” Jungkook laughs sarcastically.
You bite your lip trying to suppress your smile. Sure, you and Jungkook had hooked up once or twice now and you two were slowly getting to know each other more everyday—but you swore the butterflies in your stomach told you something was special about him.
“I mean, you’re just always so quiet… and—hey why are you laughing?” Namjoon looks at you with a serious expression.
“I’m not laughing,” you say, biting the inside of your cheek.
“Yeah Y/N, quit laughing,” Jungkook says, nudging your leg under the table again.
“God I’m gonna get queasy again,” Namjoon’s face contorts, his eyes darting between the two of you, “Since when do you two flirt with each other? In front of me?”
Once again, you keep your eyes away from Jungkook, “We’re not flirting,” you say monotonously.
Namjoon looks at Jungkook since you refuse to meet anyone’s gaze. Namjoon raises his  eyebrows at his friend curiously, an unspoken language going between them. Jungkook smirks before giving you one last glance before he says—
“Y/N and I hooked up.”
Your eyes widen instantly at Jungkook’s words and you whip your head to turn towards him.
“Jungkook what the fuck! I thought we weren’t gonna tell anyone!” Your words give away to Namjoon that Jungkook wasn’t bluffing.
Jungkook’s eyes soften looking at you, “Come on, his crazy ass was onto us anyways,” he motions towards Namjoon.
“Yeah, uh huh. I knew something was off when Jungkook’s ears kept going red every time he looked at you,” Namjoon slowly starts to smile, “How disgusting is that.”
You flip him off, “Well, don’t tell anyone.”  
“So,” Namjoon pauses, “You guys aren’t…?” He trails his question off and both of you know what he wants to say. Soulmates.
Slowly, you both shake your head. Namjoon is slightly confused himself. Normally by 18 years old people have their other half assigned to them—him included. His partner’s name appeared on the inside of his palm when he was 15. But you and Jungkook were almost 22?
“Do you guys have one? That you just haven’t met yet?” Namjoon keeps his question low.
Again, you both shake your heads. Wow, Namjoon thinks. An idea suddenly pops into his head.
“Wait so—I have an idea,” Namjoon’s eyes light up.
“Oh god,” Jungkook mumbles.
“So if you guys don’t have partners and you two keep… doing it,” he pauses with a laugh, “Couldn’t we use your experience in our project?”
It takes a few moments for Namjoon’s words to register as your mouth falls agape. Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose, unsure if he heard Namjoon correctly.
“Hyung, didn’t you just hear her say not to tell anyone?” Jungkook deadpans.
“I mean we don’t have to specify names,” Namjoon quickly elaborates, “I mean you guys did some research right? You’ve read all the horrible stuff that happens to people who go against nature.”
Yeah, you did read about that stuff and it absolutely terrified you. But even after hooking up with Jungkook and other suitors in your life—nothing bad had happened to you, so if anything, this research exists to only frighten people.
“Namjoon, I get what you’re saying but—I don’t know, we might not even hook up again,” you laugh waving your hand off.
“Wait, why not?” Jungkook’s voice suddenly goes to a higher pitch, his eyes looking at you quickly. Namjoon chuckles at the exchange. Namjoon had known Jungkook a long time and he’s never seen him want this much validation from a female—ever.
“I mean,” you pause looking at the dark haired boy beside you, “I didn’t know if—“
“Yeah yeah, work out this shit later,” Namjoon interrupts, “But I don’t know, just something to keep in mind over the rest of the semester.”
With that, the conversation ended and the three of you managed to begin typing up your report. Occasionally, you would bump Jungkook’s knee here and there just to see his reaction. He would smile although not sparing a glance at you. By the end of your study session, all three of you got a good start on the project and Jungkook’s hand rested on your thigh the whole night and you knew it didn’t belong anywhere else.
.
Weeks later, yours and Jungkook’s relationship became slightly more complicated. While you two managed to stay cordial in class and hide whatever the hell was going on between you two—once you two were alone, all bets were fucking off. Jungkook would come to your place or you would go to his when his roommates were out and he would fuck you into the mattress until you were nearly screaming. It was good—he was good—and quickly you felt yourself starting to catch feelings for him. You knew that was dangerous territory considering a name might pop up on your body any day, so as hard as it was, you repressed your feelings for him. You were unsure of how Jungkook felt. As better as he was at talking now and he did trust you, he wasn’t one for deep talk unless he had a few glasses of wine in his system. You were fine with that though, knowing it was probably for the better.
You had thought everything was going good—Jungkook, classes, exams, your project, keeping up with Taehyung and Jimin—until it all came crashing down one afternoon at your apartment.
It was a Friday afternoon and you had invited Jungkook over to… well… get your brains fucked out. You like to think you are a smart girl but today, you were being a grade ass dumbass because you had completely forgotten about your lunch date with Taehyung and Jimin.
Normally, Taehyung wouldn’t have cared if you had missed one day with him but as your best friend of years and years—he noticed something had been off with you lately. Slightly more… flakey than normal. Jimin noticed it too. So when Taehyung found himself outside of your apartment that Friday afternoon, what he saw—shook him to his core.
You and Jungkook had just gotten out of the shower after going at it like bunnies for a good hour. He couldn’t keep his hands off of you, placing his lips around yours and down your neck, leaving barely there marks behind of your ears.
“Jungkook—stop,” you push his bare chest away as you heard someone knocking on your door. He gives you a shit-eating grin, staying back in the hallway as you go to the door, holding the towel up around your body tight.
You open the door and your face fell instantly. Fuck.
“Taehyung? Jimin?” Your voice shakes, “W-what are you doing here?”
Without any warning Taehyung and Jimin step into your apartment and you begin to panic.
“What the hell Y/N, you’ve bailed on us without explanation three times now!” Taehyung says dramatically, “I mean damn I know Jimin and I are disgusting sometimes but the least you can do is give a heads—what’s that?” Taehyung’s eyes land on your neck and you step away from him, holding your towel closer to you.
“N-nothing,” you stutter. “I’m s-sorry I forgot about lunch, I’ve been really busy lately,” your excuse is lame, but you have nothing else.
“Busy?” Taehyung says eyeing you up and down, “I can see that.”
“Y/N hey where is—“ your eyes roll into the back of your head as Jungkook enters your living room at just the wrong time. No, he didn’t know it was Taehyung and Jimin, but it still doesn’t make you happy. Especially since he’s just wearing sweatpants, his hair wet like yours, compromising your secret.
“Whoa,” Jimin suddenly laughs looking at the scene. “This the quiet one?” He points over at Jungkook. Jungkook pouts—what are they talking about?—he thinks to himself.
“Holy shit Y/N what are you doing?” Taehyung doesn’t seem as enthusiastic. He looks over at Jungkook and you swear you see Taehyung salivate inside his mouth, “I mean I get why you’re doing it but, c’mon isn’t this risky?”
“I know you’re probably confused,” you bite your lip nervously. “I shouldn’t have kept this from you.”
“Yeah no shit,” he genuinely seems angry, an emotion not common to him. “We’re best friends Y/N.”
“Tae, c’mon it’s really none of our business,” Jimin steps in trying to help you out.
“It is too my business when he could potentially hurt her,” Taehyung crosses his arms. Jungkook seems taken aback by his comment and he steps towards you from behind.
“I mean I like her,” Jungkook’s voice quickly speaks up, startling you from behind. You turn your body to look at him, his eyes meeting yours.
“You do?” Your voice comes out in a squeak, a smile spreading on your face like a wildfire.
“You do?” Taehyung asks this time, looking between you two. He looks at his partner Jimin who specializes in this stuff. Jimin nods at Taehyung for reassurance.
“Yeah, a lot actually,” Jungkook steps closer to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder to pull you close to his chest. You try to hide your embarrassingly huge smile.
Taehyung’s body visibly falters, his eyes going back to his usual soft gaze. Taehyung knew you deserved happiness and if Jungkook made you happy—who was he to stop that?
“I’m sorry again for keeping this from you, it’s just we didn’t want…”
“No I get it,” he nods, “But don’t do that shit again,” he gives you a smile. As warm as Jungkook’s embrace is, you step away and give yourself to Taehyung’s arms.
“You’re the best,” you mumble into his chest.
“Bitch, I know,” his chest rumbles against yours. Jungkook watches you and Taehyung embrace, his heart swelling. Goddamn—maybe he is in a little too deep. At this point, he doesn’t care though. If anything, he wants to make you happy and he’d be damned to let the universe stop that.
.
It was officially Halloween. Nearly three months after you and Jungkook first crossed paths and met, the two of you were also “official”. Neither of you can recall the exact date it happened, but it was not long after Taehyung and Jimin busted you two. You and Jungkook had decided to not tell that many people outside of your inner circle—neither of you wanting to deal with the glares and questions. You didn’t have a name attached on your body and he didn’t either, so what were you guys doing wrong? Nothing. He was yours and you were his and you haven’t been this happy in a long time.
Jungkook, though his Virgo nature being quite selfish sometimes, was always sweet, caring, checking in on you, surprising you with flowers, genuine, and opened up some of his deepest fears to you. You had been on cloud nine for months all because of him. You had probably thanked Namjoon at least six different occasions for dragging you over to meet them way back when. Namjoon was happy for you two—though being as quizzical as he was—he had his concerns, though he never outright voiced them.
Jimin being how he was, had his concerns too. Everyone around you and Jungkook saw how you two were infatuated around each other. Jimin had never seen two people who weren’t soulmates have the connection you two had. It worried him for many reasons, which is why he’s voicing them to Taehyung right now.
“Babe, I don’t know,” Jimin says as him and Taehyung somehow got on the topic of you and Jungkook. “Don’t you think they’re moving really fast?” He questions.
Taehyung looks at his partner, a confused expression crossing his features, “Why do you say that? As long as Y/N is happy, I don’t really care who dicks her down at night, soulmate or not.”
Jimin lets out a laugh before shaking his head, “I mean, in all my case studies I’ve never seen two people like that.”
Taehyung deadpans his boyfriend, “Jimin, you of all people should know that’s not true.”
Jimin nods, immediately understanding where he is coming from. “I know. I’m just worried one of them will get hurt. A name is destined to show up on them eventually.”
Taehyung grinds his teeth, “Y/N has never been one to feed into that stuff so I’m not sure she would care anyways.”
“But she should Tae,” Jimin says, “Jungkook too. I mean there’s serious repercussions to messing with nature.”
“Well they’re fine now, aren’t they?” by Taehyung’s response—Jimin isn’t even sure if he full listening to him. Taehyung being good with numbers and business, he doesn’t fully grasp the concepts of soulmates like Jimin does. For Jimin—it’s his studies, his passion, his life.
“Yeah but—“ Jimin gets cut off by a harsh knock on his apartment door.
“They’re here,” Taehyung smiles walking over to get the door, “Don’t say anything sketch okay?” he warns Jimin as he opens the door.
You nearly fall on your ass as Taehyung opens the door. Jungkook pulls you back with a laugh as you walk into Jimin’s apartment.
“Tae! Chim!” You smile widely, throwing your arms around Taehyung’s neck tightly. You stumble in your heels and Taehyung’s hands steady you, a rumble in his chest.
“Jesus Y/N. How much have you drank already?” He exasperates, glancing over at Jungkook.
“I told her to slow down,” Jungkook puts his hands up in defense. You giggle letting go of your friend to quickly hug Jimin too. “She doesn’t listen to me,” he adds with a laugh.
“I’m fine guys,” you say glancing at Taehyung’s and Jimin’s costumes.”Really? Pirates?”  
“Hey!” Taehyung defends, “How much more cliché could you two get? A doctor and a nurse?!”
You glance over at Jungkook in his scrubs and white coat and down your body. A slutty red and white nurse’s uniform complete with thigh highs hug your figure and you quite liked it, mainly because watching Jungkook shift uncomfortably every time he glanced at you made you feel accomplished.
“Hey, we look hot,” you point at Taehyung’s chest, stumbling backwards again. Jungkook decides to pull you to his side, not wanting you to fall on your ass for real this time.
“Come on babe, slow down,” Jungkook mumbles as he wraps his arms around your front, glancing down your cleavage from behind. You nudge his stomach with your elbow.
“I’m a big girl,” you pout, “So are we going or what?”
“Yeah, just waiting on the address,” Jimin smiles waving his phone in the air.
A few moments pass, chatter between the four of you ensues. You loved your little group. Taehyung and Jimin welcomed Jungkook with open arms, the four of you going out on double dates, grabbing coffee, watching movies, and studying all became weekly occurrences. You were always so scared to dive into another relationship given your age and circumstance, but you swore that someway and somehow—you and Jungkook were meant to be together.
Twenty minutes later, the four of you step out of your Uber and make your way towards the new bar that opened near your campus. It was opening weekend and a Halloween party was obviously necessary. You held onto Jungkook’s hand tightly as you made your way inside the crowded area. You immediately aimed your way to the bar, ordering a vodka-soda, Jungkook ordering some soju.
“Don’t blackout on me now,” Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you, watching the way you take a huge sip of your drink.
“I said I’m a big girl,” you stand your ground, “I bet I can put away twice as many drinks as you.”
“Don’t listen to her Jungkook,” Taehyung says grabbing his own mixed drink, “She likes to spit nonsense when she’s drunk.”
“Oh trust me, I know,” he smirks at you and roll your eyes at him. Jungkook leans down and you peck his lips lightly—the same butterflies swirling in your stomach all these months later. Jimin watches the interaction closely. He knows exactly how you and Jungkook feels, but he still can’t shake the uneasiness deep in his gut.
“Come on, let’s dance,” you smile up at your boyfriend tugging on his arm. The music was loud and good, you were not just going to stand around. Jungkook nods quickly as you finish your drink, leaving Taehyung and Jimin behind at the bar.
Your heels made you more even with Jungkook’s height tonight as you threw your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer to you. His hands grip you waist tightly, wanting every guy here to know that you were his. For some reason, for whatever fucking reason—Jungkook felt inclined to protect you. As you sing whatever song was playing loudly, Jungkook found himself smiling and laughing at you. His chest twisted and his heart thumped. He still pinched himself when he woke up in the mornings. How did he get so lucky in this fucked world of destiny? If you weren’t meant for him, then who was?
You turn around pushing your back to his front. He holds you close as you both sway to the music as if it’s only you and him against the world. He smiles into your neck, kissing your delicate skin once in awhile. He spins you out from him and spins you back in quickly, your mind going dizzy.
“Hey careful,” you whine as you turn to him once again, “I’m drunk you know.”
“I thought you were a big girl,” he teases you and you narrow your eyes at him.
“Maybe not when I’m drunk,” you yell-whisper into his ear. He laughs, pulling you into a kiss. To any wondering eye, it would look as if you two were soulmates among other destined couples. Maybe that was the point? To fake it and then it becomes real?
Your heart swells at the thought. Jungkook studies your face intently, knowing that uttering his next words could be real dangerous but when you flash your gorgeous smile at him—he knows he has to say it.
“Wanna know a secret?” He asks.
“Sure.”
“I love you,” the words spill from his mouth. Your movements stop and you swear your drunkeness subsides momentarily.
“W-what?” You stutter. Did you hear him correctly?
“I know we’re drunk and this isn’t the best time but yeah,” he nods, “I love you Y/N.”
You head spins and you heart drops into your stomach. A smile creeps up onto your face.
“Really?” you ask, your eyes similar to those of a puppy. Jungkook nods, biting his lip. Will you say it back? “Thank fucking god, I thought I was the only one,” you say dramatically.
He furrows his eyebrows, chuckling, “Really?”
“Jeon Jungkook I fucking love you too,” you say, “I was waiting on you to say it.”
Once again he laughs, “Babe you can’t wait on stuff, you gotta go after what you want.”
“Well I already have you, don’t I?” You point out, “Come on, let’s go home.”
“Why? We’ve have one drink babe,” he says as you’re tugging on his hand.
“I know,” you look at him with a devilish smirk, “But I wanna fuck you and I’m not doing that in this bar.”
Jungkook’s face falls, blood rushing to his cock. “Fair enough.”
.
November is cold, which means December is going to be even colder. The days get shorter and your nights get longer as you try to prepare for finals in the next few weeks. Currently you’re bundled in two layers of clothing in the back of the library with Namjoon, adding the finishing touches on your final project that’s also due soon. Jungkook had to attend a seminar for one of his classes this evening which is why he’s MIA.
“Lucky shit,” Namjoon remarks when you explain your boyfriend’s absence. It was still strange to refer to him as your boyfriend.
“Would you honestly want to be lectured about how building muscles in the key to life right now?” You raise an eyebrow at him pointedly. Jungkook could even admit as a sports medicine major some of the people and things he learns about is absolute horseshit.
Namjoon laughs, “Touche.”
You’re working on the presentation aspect of you project while Namjoon is typing away at the research paper. As much as you despised the soulmate hoopla, reading about this stuff was very interesting. You had read how soulmates are apparently linked and of course, there is truly only one person meant for you. You rolled your eyes at these statements. If that was true, then why have you still not been given a name? There were so many questions that were just unanswerable that you couldn’t get over. Sure, the soulmate thing worked for some you couldn’t lie about that. At the end of the day though, perhaps you were one of the lucky ones—not bound by a name and given free reign over who is in the same spot as you.
“How’s everything going with you two by the way?” Namjoon asks curiously. His eyes haven’t left his computer screen so you oppose looking back at him when you answer.
“Good,” you smile slightly, “It’s still weird to think that we’re together,” you laugh at your statement.
He smiles to himself, “Weird for you? How about weird for me? I introduced the two of you being Jungkook is shy twat.”
“I know, I know,” you reach across the table and squeeze Namjoon’s hand playfully, “Which is why I’ve thanked you how many times now?”
“Yeah yeah, you only. Jungkook hasn’t given me his thanks yet.”
“I wouldn’t expect him too.”
“Trust me, I’m not,” he smiles with another stifled laugh as you two try to keep quiet. “So nothing’s really happened between you two?”
He’s referring to your project which you hastily agreed on letting yours and Jungkook’s “experience” to be first hand research.
You shake your head, “No. By the fifth time we had sex I was expecting to “feel excruciating pain deep within my chest as the universe tries to pull me away” him,” you quote one of the claims made by a well-known and well respected researcher. It was almost comical—how could anyone believe this stuff?
“Okay, TMI,” he puts his hands up.
“Hey this was your idea,” you remind him.
“It’s just wild to me,” he says, “I mean we grow up thinking there’s someone out there only meant for us and you and Jungkook… just don’t have one?” He looks off in the distance and you’re not sure if you should be offended by his statement—though Namjoon is a realist and he’s very logical so everything he’s saying is true.
“We have each other,” you shrug, “That’s good enough for me. I love him for who he is,” you almost feel heat coming to your face but you push it down.
“That’s how I feel about Kaya,” he almost smiles.
You look at him curiously—Namjoon hardly ever speaks of his soulmate. They’ve been together for a long time but she goes to university a couple hours from here so they don’t get to see each other as often as they would like.
“Can I see?” You whisper. He furrows his eyebrows, confused. “Your mark, I mean.”
Namjoon looks down at his left hand before nodding, opening his palm for you. In faint white writing, almost skin color—is the name Kaya in beautiful cursive. It makes your heart strings feel heavy for a moment. You knew you didn’t need a name to find love but you had always been curious about what it would be like to dawn one.
“Did it hurt? When it showed up?”
He shakes his head, “Not really, just kind like a little sting.”
“Why do you think I don’t have one? And Jungkook too?”
Your question catches him off guard. Honestly if anyone could answer this question, it was Park Jimin but he obviously wasn’t here. Namjoon was smart though—maybe he had good theories.
“I honestly don’t know,” he says softly, “I feel all the research of this stuff only applies for people who have one.”
You snort, “Right.”
“I mean you can never say never though,” he shakes his head, “Just because society has said before eighteen, that could be bullshit for all we know. You saw how in some of these articles, some names showed up in people’s early and mid-twenties too.”
“Yeah… and then what?”
“What do you mean?” He asks.
“It’s just seems so unfair that I can see Jungkook in my life after college and that could be taken away so easily. Or I could be taken away from him… it’s just so fucked don’t you think?” You don’t even realize how shaky your tone is, but Namjoon picks it up.
“Are you worried about that?”
Your mouth goes dry, “I like to think he’s the one for me,” you say after a few seconds of silence.
He bites his lip, unsure of what to say next, “Well maybe he is,” he offers trying to lighten your mood.
You look down at your hands, inspecting your wrist and fingers carefully. Your stomach churns at your next thought.
“And what if he isn’t?” You glance back to find his eyes staring holes into you.
“Then it wasn’t meant to be. I’d like to think the universe isn’t wrong.”
You nod slowly taking in his words. Sure you and Jungkook had been official for awhile now and you hoped that this feeling with him would never end. You liked to think the universe isn’t wrong either and maybe that’s why you and Jungkook found each other—cause it was meant to be.
Yours and Namjoon’s conversation stuck with you the rest of the evening. Jungkook had picked you up from the library in his black Mercedes around 8 PM. Even though it was a Wednesday, you and Jungkook had been staying at each other’s places more often than not. With your only roommate being away in Europe for study abroad, it was nice having him stay with you.
Jungkook noticed something was bothering you as he drove back to your place as you didn’t say much to him. You gripped his hand tightly in yours but the way your eyes didn’t meet his— it worried him. He became even more worried when you didn’t want to eat dinner after he had picked up your favorite takeout. It was his treat to you since he was unable to come to the library tonight.
“I’m just not that hungry,” you said pushing around the Chinese food with your chopsticks. You were both sat on your couch, your feet up in his lap watching some romantic-comedy TV show—Jungkook’s choosing—not yours.
“You’re always hungry,” he says poking at your leg to try to get a smile from you. Nothing. He furrows his eyebrows at you though you don’t even notice it as you’re looking away from him.
“What’s up babe?” Jungkook’s question takes you out of your thoughts. Were you that obvious?
“Hm?” You glance at him, trying to play your emotions off.
“You’re just being so… quiet?” He says softly, setting down his plate on the coffee table. He shifts his body to your frame, a hand holding up his head on the back of the couch.
“I don’t know,” you mumble, “Just have a lot on my mind.”
“Y/N you can tell me anything you know,” he rubs the back of your calves. The motion alone relaxes you significantly and you still don’t know how someone has this affect over you.
You pause, unsure if you should voice your worries to him. Would they cause problems between you two if you said what you were actually thinking? Was Namjoon right? “It’s just Namjoon and I were talking tonight and—“
“What did he say to you?” Jungkook quickly interrupts with a harsh tone. As much as Jungkook loved Namjoon like a brother—he was too brash and sometimes that lead to hurt feelings.
“It’s nothing he said it just got me thinking,” you shake your head aimlessly, looking behind Jungkook’s head at the wall.  He doesn’t say anything wanting you to continue. “Don’t you worry about the future?”
Jungkook purses his lips, thinking deeply about your question before answering honestly.
“Everyday,” he says, “But I like to live for now, in the present… why are you asking?”
“What are we supposed to do if we’re separated, huh?” The words tumble from your mouth, your tone not the sweetest. You tense up in Jungkook’s hands and he notices your demeanor quickly changing.
“Why are you saying that Y/N?” His voice is confused and heavy.
“Because I fucking love you Jungkook and I don’t want you taken away from me, that’s why,” you let out a deep breath, pushing yourself up and off the couch. Jungkook watches you as you stand up and walk towards the kitchen. You’re clearly distressed about something. Slowly, he rises to his feet sauntering over to your frame that’s staring down at the sink.
“Y/N,” his voice is low behind you. Your knuckles are nearly white from gripping the side of the counter so hard. You felt tears pricking in your eyes that you had to force away. Jungkook wraps his arms around your front and you lean back into his frame.
He rests his head on your shoulder, “Baby I get it, okay? I know it’s scary not knowing what the hell is wrong with people like us—“
“That’s the problem Jungkook,” you say, “There’s something wrong with us and it’s fucked up. How do we know that this, us, is okay?”
“Listen I know you don’t believe in destiny and all that stuff but,” he pauses nuzzling into your neck, “But I do and I feel like if this, us—isn’t meant to be, then what is?”
You lean your head on his before you reluctantly turn your body around, your hands sliding behind his torso.
“How are you so sure?” You mutter meeting his gaze. His eyes are worried for you but still deep down, they have a light and wonder you’ve never fully understood.
He gives you a tiny smile, brushing his nose against yours, “Because I love you, okay? Like I’ve never loved anyone more before, I promise you, we’ll be fine. You will be fine.”
The weight from your shoulders is lifted as Jungkook’s words reassure you. He had such a hopeless romantic complex about him, you were sure he knew everything right to say to make you feel better. He was right—the odds of you two being this late in the game and meeting can’t be coincidental. He was yours and you were his—that’s all that mattered.
“Are you good now?” He raises his eyebrows at you and you nod against his forehead, leaning forward to peck his lips.
“Much better,” you then say. Jungkook chases his mouth with yours again before pulling away after a brief kiss.
“Good because I had something important to ask you anyways,” he says giving you some space.
Your eyes bulge, a worried look instantly spreading on your features, “You’re not asking me to marry you, are you? After what we just—“
He shakes his head with a laugh, “No, not right now at least,” he continues to laugh and your heart lurches at the thought. “But I was gonna ask if you wanted to come to Busan with me, for Christmas?”
You are taken aback by his question, your mouth parting unsure of what to say.
“Like go home with you?” He nods at your question, “And meet your family?” He nods again.
“I know we haven’t been together that long but I’d figure I would offer,” he shrugs.
“Do your parents know about us?”
“I mentioned someone to them on the phone the other day.”
“Do they know the full situation?” you ponder. You two weren’t soulmates and meeting parents was a huge step.
“No,” he says, “But that doesn’t mean we can’t fake it,” a smirk spreads on his lips.
“Jungkook, I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”
“None of my ideas are the best ideas let’s be real,” he chuckles, “And I’m not saying you have to go, but if you want to the offer is there.”
You bite your lip as your eyes meet. The stove light was shining on his face so his small scar was prominent. It would be nice you suppose, meeting his brother who gave him that scar and his parents too. You had never met any of your significant other’s parents—Jungkook really must believe in you two then.
“I’ll think about it,” you smile up at him, squeezing your arms tightly around his frame. He nods before leaning down, kissing you once again gently. Your night ends with you finally eating your food and Jungkook in your bed making you feel better than anyone ever has. It was perfect.
WINTER
“And how, may I ask,” your professor’s voice is the first to ask a question when you are done speaking, “Did the three of you manage to maintain data regarding the intimacy of two people whose souls are not bound yet?”
Your eyes flicker over to Namjoon and Jungkook. You’re about to respond but Namjoon beats you to it.
“Professor Jung, we know it can seem like we made up part of our research but,” he pauses, “But we trust the individuals who relayed us this information in the past three months and out of respect for them… we ask for you not to probe too much.”
Your professor’s eyebrows raise at Namjoon’s comment. His eyes flicker between the three of you, unable to decipher Namjoon’s passive aggressiveness. You were thankful he decided to answer the question, because you’re sure that you would have been too nice about it. Why can’t this jackass just take the information you are presenting and shove it up his ass?  
“I see,” he breathes in deeply, “It just seems very hard for me to wrap my head around the argument that you’ve presented, when there’s so much research saying the opposite. The effects of intimacy is sacred for soul bonded people. Horrible illnesses and other things can happen to these people that go against nature.”
“It does seem that way professor,” you chime in, “But perhaps it’s time for new, more in-depth research to be done on this subject. These independent relationships may not work for everyone but in this case—it has.”
He chews on the end of his pen, “I agree wholeheartedly and though I still have my doubts about your research, I cannot deny the three of you have presented me with a topic that no one ever has before. The psychology behind soul-binding, sex, and relationships is amazing and endless… and isn’t the point of life to ask questions?” He seems to have lost somewhat focus on the three of you. What an idiot.  
“Exactly,” Jungkook nods sending you a quick wink. You chew on your bottom lip to avoid from grinning. “As they say, we learn something new everyday.”
“That you are correct Mr. Jeon,” he say points to your boyfriend. “Well, I think you three have presented a wonderful project and I look forward to reading your research paper for further depth. Expect a grade by the end of the week. Thank you, it was… mostly a pleasure having you in my class,” his eyes glance at you briefly and it takes all of you not to launch at him over his stupidly expensive desk.
“Thank you professor. Have a good winter break,” Namjoon smiles. The three of you leave the small conference room attached to his office. Thankfully, you did not have to present your project in front of the entire class.
You let out a groan of relief when the cold winter air welcomes you outside. “Thank god that’s over!” You smile up at the sky.
Jungkook throws an arm around your shoulder to pull you in close, “What grade do you think we’ll get hyung?” He smiles at Namjoon who is digging around for his phone.
“Hopefully an A. With the bullshit you were feeding him? I think he loved it, he was just being a hardass because of Y/N,” he motions to you.
You’re mouth falls open, “Hey! It’s not my fault he doesn’t like me! He’s a raging psychotic sexist,” you huff crossing your arms over you.
“Uh huh,” Namjoon hums, “First day straggler.”
You narrow your eyes at him before Jungkook nudges you, “C’mon I’m freezing, let’s go home,” he whines and you give him a small nod.  
“I’ll see you after break?” You ask the dimpled man in front of you.
He smiles, “Yeah for sure. But I gotta go—I have a plane to catch later tonight.”
“Where are you going?” This is even news to Jungkook.
“Oh, Kaya and I are going to Europe for two weeks, should be fun,” he looks down at his phone, “Oh shit, yeah I gotta go, Merry Christmas!” He waves at you two before running off in the opposite direction to the bus stop.
“Europe? I wanna go to Europe,” you pout looking up at Jungkook. He gives you a peck on the lips, your pout irrespective.
“We’ll go one day. It’s fun,” he says as you two begin to walk towards the student parking lot.
“You’ve been?”
“A few countries there, yeah,” he nods intertwining your fingers. Jeez, the amount of things and places Jungkook has been in his 22 years made your life look boring as hell. “Like I said, we’ll go—I promise,” is the last thing he says before you two get into his car.
The car ride is mostly a comfortable silence on the way to your place. His hand rests on your thigh, holding you tighter whenever he takes a turn.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” Jungkook asks suddenly getting your attention.
“It’s not that I don’t want to Jungkook,” you say, “It’s just Taehyung said he was going to be here by himself all break and when he asked, I felt bad.”
He pouts giving you a glance, “I know but I’ll be lonelyyy,” he drags out.
“You have your whole family babe,” you laugh at his childish demeanor.
“Yeah but I’m not exactly into cuddling my brother when I go to sleep,” he mutters and you swat his arm. “And you’re telling me I have to go two weeks without having sex?!”
“Jungkook,” you roll your eyes with a laugh, “You’re starting to sound like Professor Jung with your concerns about sex.”
“Duh,” he says, “Why do you think I liked him so much?”
“I hate you,” you deadpan and you gives you a shit-eating grin.
“I love you too.”
.
The next couple days Jungkook stays at your place completely, not wanting to leave your side before he has to go to Busan for two weeks. He was very disappointed that you didn’t want to go to Busan with him, but he knew Taehyung was your best friend and you were bound to do anything for him.
“I can’t believe you’re trusting me with your car,” you say pulling into the train station parking garage. His Mercedes was a low-ground sports car, complete with a V8 engine and custom leather seats. You were still blown away that Jungkook had this car in college. You assumed that his parents must have money because you didn’t know how else to explain it.
Jungkook was nervous watching you drive his baby. When you would press on the gas or the breaks a little too hard he could felt his heart stop for a second.
“Yeah just please be careful,” he pleads as you park perfectly. You put his car in park and turn to him.
“Don’t you trust me?” You blink your lashes at him. He smirks adjusting the beanie on his head.
“I do,” he says, “Mostly.”
“Let’s make a deal Jeon,” you suggest as you help him unload his bags from the trunk. Jungkook was like a woman bringing two full suitcases and a duffle bag with him for a two week trip.
“Shoot babe,” he says.
“If nothing happens to your car in these two weeks—which it won’t—you can treat me for being a good girl,” you smirk up at him and he visibly gulps, rolling his tongue in his cheek. He thought your morning sex would have been enough but he wonder’s if he should take you into a bathroom at the train station and fuck your brains out again before he leaves.
“Deal,” he manages to choke out, going against his previous thought. Goddamn he was so in love with you he wasn’t sure he could make it without you for two weeks. In the five months you have known each other this was going to be longest time spent apart.
As you approach the ticket counter for Jungkook to check in, you start to feel a sadness settling in your heart and stomach. You felt like you were being dramatic about not seeing Jungkook for two weeks but he had become such an important role in your happiness—it was going to be weird not seeing him everyday. He truly was your other half.
“Alright I gotta head to my platform,” Jungkook says giving you a weak smile. “Thanks for driving me here.”
You try your best to muster up a smile, “No problem.”
He quickly pulls you in for a hug, encasing your frame around his tightly. You inhale his scent deeply so you won’t forget it in the next couple weeks.
“Don’t miss me too much,” he mumbles into your ear.
You pull your head out of his chest, “As long as you don’t miss me too much.”
God you two were disgusting.
He smiles leaning down a for kiss, you close the gap between you two. You only kiss for a moment not wanting to catch any unwanted attention.
“I love you,” you smile at him.
“I love you too,” he says, suddenly reaching into the deep pocket of his large sweatshirt. “Here,” he hands over a tiny box wrapped in Christmas paper and an envelope taped to the bottom of it.
“Jungkook,” you look at him and then the present, “We said we weren’t going to give each other presents.”
“I know but I couldn’t resist. I just thought of you when I saw it.”
“Thank you,” your heart flutters and you give him one last peck before he has to leave.  
“Merry Christmas,” he says, “I’ll let you know when I arrive.”
“Merry Christmas Jungkook.”
A brief walk back to Jungkook’s car has your heart in shambles. As you watched him leave for his platform, you couldn’t help but think you should have went with him. Taehyung would have understood—but that also meant meeting his parents and you weren’t sure that was a good idea just yet.
You settled into the driver seat of his car, carefully tearing the wrapping from the small box. Your eyes widen when you open it, a baby teal box revealing a beautiful ring on the inside. A gold band shines in the light, a small circular diamond in the middle shines even brighter.
“Holy shit,” you breathe out, quickly ripping open the envelope that he also gave you. It contained a cheesy Christmas card, his handwriting scribbling—
Merry Christmas Y/N. You’ve changed my life in more ways than one. I’m just one call away and I’ll always be here for you.
Cheesy I know—but you know cheesy is my middle name.
I love you.
Jungkook
.
“Jesus Christ Y/N!” Taehyung exclaims when you show him your new accessory on your hand. “This must have been thousands of dollars,” he grabs your hand to inspect the jewelry. “Tiffany too? What kind of money is Jungkook’s parent’s shitting out for him to give you this?”
“Hey now, he does well with his photography,” you pinch in, noting that he began selling pieces after much consideration.
“I know I know but damn,” he moves your hand around to see the light catching in the diamond. “When did he give you this?”
“The other day when I dropped him off at the train station.”
“Wow… I think you’ve won in the boyfriend category Y/N,” his eyes still haven’t left your finger and you know it’s the alcohol in his system that is keeping him mesmerized.
“It’s not a competition dumbass,” you spew at him.
“What did you get him? An amazing blowjob topped with a new lens for his cameras?”
You laugh at Taehyung’s words, “I’m more mad at the fact the he even bought it, we said we weren’t going to give each other gifts.”
“Well shit Y/N he basically proposed to you—that’s not a gift, is it?” His glassy, wine drunk eyes look at you curiously.
You pull your hand away from him, laying back down against your couch.
“Tae,” you mutter, feeling slightly tipsy yourself, “Do you think Jungkook and I will last?”
Taehyung leans back beside you, exhaling a deep breathe heavily. He doesn’t say anything for a few moments. The silence isn’t uncomfortable but it makes you nervous.
“Yeah,” he says, his eyes looking straight ahead, his tone real and understanding. Taehyung couldn’t voice it—no matter how much he wanted to over the months of you relationship with Jungkook—but he knew what you were going through in more ways than one.
“Really?” You look at him, nuzzling your head into his outstretched arm. He looks down at you before nodding.
“If you two want it to work… it will,” his voice deep and serious.
“How do you know that though?” You mutter, your tone down and pessimistic.
He breathes in deeply, “I just do… I know you two love each other. Anyone can see it Y/N. Don’t doubt anything unless you’ve been given a reason to doubt.”
Taehyung was always more philosophical when he was drinking and this proves that even more.
“Trust me,” his deep voice adds when you don’t say anything immediately .
“What would I do without you?” You finally muster looking up at him.
He smirks, “Lose your mind, that’s what.”
“Give me more credit than that asshole,” you push against his torso.
He laughs before responds with, “Hell no.”
“Well, should we open up our presents?” You give him a small smile glancing at the gifts that were lazily strewn on the floor. Your miniature Christmas tree was slightly pathetic—but it was better than nothing you suppose.
“Sure, but don’t expect another item from Tiffany alright?” He muses as he stands up to grab his gifts for you.
“Fuck off,” you laugh reaching your hands out as he places a bag and a box wrapped in front of you. You were sure Jimin wrapped these given how perfect they were.
“You first,” he gives you a warm smile. You dig into the bag first as it is less to unwrap. Your mouth drops open when you pull out a box of condoms, Taehyung stifling a laugh behind his smile.
“Taehyung are you kidding me?” You’re trying hard not to laugh either. He fucking would.
“Ultra thin… thought they would come in handy since, you know, you two fuck like bunnies,” he sends over a wink and you’re quick to flip him off. You open his next present which happens to be a coat you’ve been eyeing for the past few weeks, but hesitant to buy due to the $300 price tag.
“Tae, you didn’t have to get me this,” you marvel at the thick material, the baby blue color just the one you wanted. “This is too expensive—“
“Babe it’s fine,” he shakes his head, “I know you need some help with our wardrobe so I’m only offering my services,” he says matter of factly.
You move the box away from you and throw your arms around his neck. He hugs you tightly and in this moment you realize how happy your are. You perhaps have the best boyfriend and best friend of anyone you know. You didn’t think anything would change that.
“Here,” you pass Taehyung over your present and he quickly rips the paper off. He looks like a little kid on Christmas morning and you decide to pour more wine as he fidgets with the box.
“Shit Y/N!” He smiles widely, “Holy shit you didn’t have to get me this,” he takes his gift out of the box. He smiles widely at the leather bag you got him. Not a cheap price tag either—but it was Taehyung’s favorite bag and his old one was not cutting it anymore.
“It’s fine,” you shake your head, gulping down your white wine quickly. You two were quite drunk at this point.
“Jeez,” he shakes his head pulling you into another bone crushing hug, “Fuck Jimin and Jungkook. Let’s just get married, you and me kid.”
You laugh at his words, “Trust me, if you were straight I would take you up on that.”
The rest of your evening is spent with watching “How the Grinch Stole Christmas,” more wine, and endless laughter with your best friend.
.
It’s about 5 AM when you wake up in your bed with a busting headache and a stomach ache that has you doubled over on your toilet. Fuck, did you really drink that much? Your question is answered when everything in your stomach is coming up through your esophagus. You don’t know how long you sit on your knees, hands on the toilet throwing up your guts.
“Y/N?” Taehyung appears at your bathroom door rubbing his eyes, “Whoa, are you okay?” He quickly comes down behind you, holding your hair back and away from your face.
Finally after what seems like forever, you stop throwing up, resting your head on the porcelain.
“Yeah,” you groan, your throat raw and sore, “I guess I just drank too much.”
“Shit, do you need anything?” He asks, voice laced with concern.
“Just some water please,” you tell him and he leaves to quickly get you a glass. “Fuck,” you mutter to yourself. You’re not sure the last time you were this hungover was. You knew you needed water and sleep—maybe that would alleviate the pain in your head and stomach.
You get back into bed a few moments later with Taehyung laying down beside you. He gives you your space and before you know it, both of you fall back to sleep.
You wake up again around 10 AM, your headache still busting but your stomach more settled now. You’re sipping tea watching another Christmas movie with Taehyung when your phone rings. A smile stretches on your face when you see Jungkook’s name pop up.
“Hey,” you answer the phone, sitting up from your position on the couch.
“Hey babe,” his voice brings comfort to your ears, “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” you say, “Did you have a good morning?”
Jungkook hesitates over the line before speaks again, “Uh, yeah… what about you?”
You furrow your eyebrows at his tone. He sounds… distant and unconfident with his words.
“I mean I’ve been better,” you laugh, watching Taehyung glance at you quickly.
“What’s wrong?” He asks.
“Well I’m just really hungover, Taehyung really did a number on me with the wine last night,” you laugh again trying to ease whatever tension Jungkook is holding through the phone.
He chuckles nervously for a moment over the phone, “Well drink some water and rest okay?”
“I know, I’m gonna take it easy for the rest of the day,” you look at your nails that desperately need to be manicured.
“Yeah good,” is all he says and you purse your lips. Normally Jungkook is so talkative over the phone—what’s up with him?
“Babe are you okay?” You ask him with genuine concern. You would hate for him to be going through something and him not tell you. Taehyung gives you a weird look and you shrug your shoulders.
“Yeah,” he clears his throat, “I’m just tired from all the Christmas hoopla I’ve had to do the past few days,” he says seeming to explain his demeanor, “But I’m gonna call you later okay? I’ve got a Christmas brunch to get ready for but I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas.”
You smile at his words, “Alright, have fun. I’ll talk to you later. Hurry home. I love you.”
“I’ll try I promise,” you can sense a small smile in his voice, “I love you too.” So much.
You stay sick for the next three days. Your body aches, your head hurts, and you’re still throwing up occasionally therefore you’ve barely had anything to eat the past three days. You and Taehyung are afraid you’ve picked up a small flu from someone. Despite this, Taehyung stays with you, not wanting to leave you alone sick like this.
Jimin gets back from home a couple days after you’ve fallen ill. Jimin being a medical guy himself, is unsure of what or who could have gotten you sick.
“As long as you don’t get and maintain a fever, I think you should be fine,” he says watching your frame on your couch. You had not felt this sick in so long and of course it had to be right before Jungkook got back home too.
“Should Jungkook come around her? He gets back when, tomorrow?” Taehyung asks you.
You nod, “Yeah, tomorrow evening,” you manage to say through your sore throat that feels like it’s actually on fire.
“I don’t think you’re contagious otherwise he would be sick too,” he motions to Taehyung, “He should be fine,” his voice is low and steady. His eyes don’t leave your frame though you’re too tired to notice Jimin’s intense stare.
You push yourself off of the couch, wanting to get some sleep in your bed. “I’m gonna take a nap, you guys don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.”
Taehyung and Jimin exchange a glance before nodding, “We can get some food and bring some back for you later?”
“That would be great Tae,” you smile at him, “Thanks guys.”
Jimin and Taehyung leave your apartment, locking the door behind them with Taehyung’s spare key.
“Do you think she’s really okay? I’ve never seen her like this,” Taehyung mumbles to Jimin as he pulls up directions to the nearest ramen restaurant near them.
Jimin’s throat goes dry and he hesitates, biting his lip, “Honestly, I think we’ll just have to see.”
Jimin’s words are uneasy in Taehyung’s mind—both of them equally worried for you.
. You are jumping out of the shower when you get a text from Jungkook.
[Jungkook ♥ 6:58 PM] I’m about an hour away. Can’t wait to see you.
You smile at his text, heart fluttering at the thought of seeing him again. Today you woke up feeling a lot better—still not 100%—but you could actually stomach food today. Despite your illness, you didn’t really care at this point. You could wait to see Jungkook—you missed him so much more than you thought you would have.
[You 7:00 PM] Perfect. I’ll see you soon ♥
[Jungkook ♥ 7:02 PM] ♥
The train station is more crowded than it was went you sent Jungkook off. The masses of being returning from their holiday was immense and you were afriad you weren’t going to be able to find Jungkook through the masses.
Little to your knowledge, Jungkook had spotted you after he exited his platform—a beautiful baby blue coat hanging off of your frame—signaling where you stood. After not seeing your face for two weeks, he smiled to himself. You were so fucking beautiful to him and he loved you so much—it only made his heart hurt even more.
He hesitates walking towards your back that’s facing him. He takes in a deep breath before he wraps his arms around your front. You jump in his arms and turn around with the smile that makes his day. Today—it only breaks him even further.
“Jungkook,” you turn around and hug him tightly. Finally—he was home. He doesn’t say anything as he returns your hug, kissing you on the top of the head. He glances down at his arms, pulling his jacket sleeve down, making sure his watch wasn’t going anywhere.
After all, he was desperate to hide the name that was inked on his wrist that wasn’t yours.
.
JUNGKOOK
Christmas Eve—Busan
Jungkook’s tie is too tight around his neck. He swore to his mother that it was fine but her being as stubborn as she was, made sure to secure it so that not even she could move it. He pulls at his collar and his older brother, Junghyun laughs at him.
“You look like a little kid, pulling and tugging at that you know,” Junghyun eyes Jungkook and he rolls his eyes.
“It’s suffocating hyung—I’m not drunk enough for this bullshit,” Jungkook responds with a laugh.
It was their annual Christmas Eve party held by their father’s company and it was just as stuffy and rich as Jungkook remembers. Jungkook and his brother didn’t speak much about their wealth. They had both grown up with more money, toys, clothes, shoes, and vacations that they ever needed. They never once complained as they both know how incredibly lucky they were to have already lived 5 lives before turning 30. They did however, understand how tiring this lifestyle was.
Perhaps it is why neither Jungkook or Junghyun pursued business as a major—neither one wanted to have this much to handle on their plate. Thankfully, despite most of the people that associated with the Jeon family—their mother and father were humble and respected their sons’ decisions to make their own path. If it were up to their mother though, should would have her sons closer to Busan than so far away.
“Well, the night is still young,” his brother speaks again, handing Jungkook a glass of champagne.
“There you two are,” Yeri—Junghyun’s soulmate and partner appears from what seems to be out of thin air. “Hi my love,” she smiles up at Junghyun as he pulls her closer to his hip. “Jungkook, how are you?”  
“Pretty good, my tie is too tight,” he pouts.  
Yeri observes Jungkook, “I think it looks good?” She looks back up at his brother and he nods in agreement.
“I know, he’s just a baby,”  he remarks and Jungkook rolls his eyes.  
“Anyways, your mother is looking for you two—we’re about to eat dinner,” she informs and both of the brother’s nod.  
Jungkook follows closely behind them, weaving in and out of people to get to their designated table. Jungkook only recognizes a handful of people he passes even though they know exactly who he is. They find their table, their parents already seated and ready for dinner.
Jungkook smiles when he sees his mother, bending down to hug her.
“Hello Jungkook, Junghyun,” she greets her sons, “Yeri, please sit!”
He takes a seat right of his mom, Junghyun and Yeri to his left. His father is busy speaking with a business partner at the table to pay much attention to them. Jungkook grew up used to that though—his father always overworking himself, barely getting home before they had to go to bed. Despite this, he was still a great father in Jungkook’s eyes, providing and making them laugh every chance he got.
“What’s for dinner, Mrs. Jeon?” Yeri asks. Jungkook’s mother loved Yeri the moment she set her eyes on her all those years ago and nothing has changed.
“Oh, we’re having a little bit of everything—bulgogi, samgyeopsal, jajangmyeon, kimchi. I hope it’s good, we had to get a new caterer this year,” a sudden worry falls over he face but she quickly brushes it away.
“Perfect, I’m starved,” Jungkook mumbles, once again, mindlessly tugging at his collar. Jungkook’s mom swats his hand away.
“Quit it, you’re fine,” she scolds him and he settles in his seat, picking up his newly poured glass of red wine. It was true—he was starved and if he didn’t get food in his system quickly, he would probably become tipsy from a singular glass of champagne and wine.
The food arrives at each table in an orderly fashion as everyone finally takes their seats. A few words of thanks are spoken before everyone digs in, placing various meats on the grills in front of them. Commotion and chatter quickly fill the large hall. Jungkook is busy stuffing his mouth with noodles when suddenly his name is spoken across the table.
“Jungkook,” his father addresses him. He swallows his food quickly before raising an eyebrow in response. “You remember Mr. Kim, Seokjin’s father?”
The mention of Seokjin brings a wash of memories over Jungkook’s brain. He was an older kid that him and Junghyun used to play around with growing up.
“Yes, of course,” Jungkook slightly smiles to the elder.
“I can’t believe you’re almost done with university,” Mr. Kim compliments Jungkook, “What are you majoring in again?”
“Sports medicine,” Jungkook says feeling slightly intimidated by his stare. Suddenly Mr. Kim’s eyes glance down to Jungkook’s hand and he suddenly feels self conscious about his the ink colored on his fingers. He quickly retracts his hand under the table before he speaks again.
“Well that’s really good to hear,” he smiles warmly again, “Are you planning on furthering your education past undergrad?”
“Yes sir,” he nods, “I plan to pursue a sports physician or therapist within the next few years.”
He looks over at Jungkook’s father, “I don’t think your sons could be any more opposite than you and I,” he laughs and Jungkook’s father nods with a small smile.
“As long as they’re happy, that’s all that matters,” his father says. Jungkook glances at Junghyun, hoping he was paying some attention to the conversation so Jungkook could continue eating. He wasn’t.
“Yes I see,” Mr. Kim nods, “They will do good for themselves and their partners, I’m sure of it.”
The mention of the word partner gets Jungkook’s mother’s attention.
“Oh yes, Junghyun and Yeri have recently leased a house in Seoul,” she smiles proudly at her eldest. It was true—Junghyun was a practicing lawyer and Yeri was a court reporter so they were doing pretty well off even though they haven’t reached 30 yet.
“If only they could hurry up and get married,” she then adds with a laugh. Junghyun looks over and he grimaces, though no ill intent by the stare.
“Mom, we’ve told you. We’re settling our house and finances for another year or so, then we are,” he responds swiftly.
“Well, then it seems like Jungkook is due next,” Mr. Kim adds into the mix. Suddenly, Jungkook tenses up and his face falls. Oh how he wish you were here right now so he wasn’t alone in this.
“Well Jungkook does have a partner, right?” His mom looks over at him. Jungkook had mentioned you to his mom and dad but that was it—so this is news for Junghyun and Yeri who were carefully listening to his words. Jungkook was 22 after all—the clock was ticking.
“Yes mom,” he nods, “I invited her to Busan with me for the holidays but she decided to stay back home,” he explains.
“Ah, that’s too bad, we would have loved to meet her,” Mr. Kim says, “Next time though?’
Jungkook nods, a small smile present, “Next time.”
The conversation thankfully dies after that. As much as Jungkook wanted to talk about you—he was so hesitant for well, obvious reasons. His mom had the most questions about you and he answered all of them to her liking. She seemed to think their souls were bonded and wasn’t that the point he was trying to make? He wanted his mom to love you like he did and he was confident she would by the way her eyes lit up when he spoke about you.
“She seems lovely Jungkook,” she says, “And you just met her this year? After all this time?”
After all this time—yeah right. “Yeah, we had a class together.”
“Well I for one cannot wait to meet her,” she smiles taking a sip of her wine, “You should invite her again when you two graduate, you know we have to have a party to celebrate.”
Jungkook’s mouth goes dry but he nods quickly, just wanting to focus on the dessert that was being place in front of him.
“She would love that,” is all he says before he digs into his cheesecake. After a few glasses of wine, Jungkook had felt himself become a little tipsy and he knew he needed to slow down if he wanted to enjoy Christmas morning.
After he finishes his sweet treat, he excuses himself to get some water. As much as he hates these kinds of things, he wishes he had his camera to capture some memories—even though it was his first Christmas with you despite being separated by hundreds of kilometers.
He reaches the beverage table, quickly asking for a glass of water when suddenly he feels a tap on his shoulder.
“Excuse me?” A girls voice asks, “Would you mind getting me a glass of Chardonnay?”
He glances at the girl before nodding, asking for a glass to hand to her. The server hands Jungkook a wine glass and he turns around to see the girl for the first time. He’s slightly taken aback from her beauty. She’s got warm brown hair that flows down her chest, welcoming eyes, and a smile that he swears sparkled in the light.
“Thank you,” her eyes met his and he feels his chest tightening the longer he looks at her. As much as he wants to look away—he physically is unable. She seems to feel the same because he doesn’t know how much time has passed of them staring at each other before someone calls out to her.
She glances to her right, raising her glass as another thanks before walking away from Jungkook. His eyes follow her as her back turns to him. She’s wearing a simple purple dress with sleeves and heels that make her legs look long and lean.
He shakes his head out of his trance-like state, what the fuck? He takes another gulp of his water—it has to be alcohol getting to him. He’s about to head back to his parent’s table when he suddenly feels an itching on the inside of his left wrist. He scratches his skin harshly and he winces when it’s more painful than a normal scratch.
He glances down at his sleeve, pulling the material back to see what was so painful. He does a double take when he moves his watch, noticing harsh red lines forming on skin. The fuck, he thinks to himself. Jungkook makes the decision to excuse himself to the men’s room to cool the burning off with some water.
Thankfully he’s the only person occupying the room and he quickly turns on the water, running his skin underneath it. The burning subsides after a few moments and as he’s reaching for a towel to dry himself, he drops it to the floor before he can even use it.
While the red marks have gone away, a thin black line has replaced them.
Rose.
He blinks heavily, shaking his head. Is he really that drunk? He takes his nail to scratch at the black and when it doesn’t move, his mouth parts and the tie around his neck feels even more constricting.
“No,” he whispers to himself.
Rose.
It’s still there.
“No, no, no,” he mumbles, “Fuck,” his breathing picks up heavily and he looks at himself in the mirror. His face is pale and his eyes are blown out. Fuck.
Rose.
He moves his watch back over the marking and runs a hand through his hair, pulling on the ends harder than he should. He almost feels tears threatening to fall when he realizes what’s happening. This has to be a sick joke? The universe cannot be doing this—not right now—not after all this fucking time?
As much as his mind is racing, drunk and confusion do not make a good combination, he sees one thing for sure in the back of his brain. You. As this thought, his stomach churns deeply and before he realizes it—he’s spitting up some of his food and alcohol into the toilet.
“Fuck,” he says again wiping the perspiration away from his clammy hands onto his pants. He takes in a deep breath, freshening himself up before he leaves the bathroom with the mission to find one person and one person only.
Once he comes back into the main room, his eyes glance around quickly for a head of silky brown hair and a purple dress. His head looks around rapidly and anyone who saw him probably thought that he looked crazy. He spots Junghyun and Yeri getting another drink at the bar and he swiftly walks over towards them.
“Hyung,” Jungkook speaks quickly, shaking his brother’s shoulder.
“Huh? Jungkook, you okay?” His brother notices how ill Jungkook looks. Face pale, hair messily pushed around, uneasiness in his large eyes.
“Have you seen a girl,” he pauses trying to slow down, “Purple dress, kind of ashy brown hair to here,” he demonstrates the length with his hands. Junghyun looks at Jungkook like he’s crazy. Hell, maybe Jungkook is going crazy.
Junghyun shakes his head, “No I haven’t. What’s up?”
“I may have seen a purple dress going that way,” Yeri points her finger towards the other side of the large room. “Jungkook are you sure you’re okay?”
He doesn’t even give them one more glance before he thanks Yeri quickly, turning on his heels to head that direction. He nearly trips on his feet trying to get across the masses of people congregating. The ballroom has a couple hallways that lead off into other rooms and he decides his luck, checking in and out of the rooms. He’s coming up empty until he stops dead in his tracks, a back clad in purple facing him, talking to another man with blonde hair.
Suddenly, the blonde looks at Jungkook from over her shoulder and she follows. Her eyes meet Jungkook’s and he fills his breath hitching, his stomaching rolling once again.
“Hello?” The blonde asks curiously.
“Hi,” Jungkook steps forward. His hands are buried deep in his dress pants so they can’t see the way they shake with every breath.
“Yoongi, will you get me another drink please?” The girl speaks looking back at the man. He nods, settling not to say anything else as he brushes past Jungkook.
The girl stands awkwardly, her finger rimming an empty wine glass slowly. Jungkook can barely look at her but something is compelling him to. He can’t take his eyes off of her—she’s beautiful. He slowly walks towards her with some hesitation. She finally meets his eyes again and she visibly breathes in deep through her nose, her chest rising.
“Hi,” Jungkook says again.
“Hi,” she says with a low tone. She bites her lip nervously and she suddenly looks around the room—anywhere but him. “This place is really beautiful isn’t it?”
Jungkook follows her lead, eyes glancing around the room too, “Yeah, it is.”
“Your parents know how to put on a party,” she muses with a small laugh. Goddamn, he thinks, she is so beautiful. So, she knows exactly who he is.
“This is nothing compared to some other years,” he gently smiles when her lips turn up, her cheeks getting bigger with her own smile.
A silence falls between the two of them. She sways in her heels trying to relieve the pain in the balls of her feet.
“It’s you isn’t it,” Jungkook speaks first. She looks up at him, still saying silent. “You’re Rose?”
She dips her head, some of her hair falling in her face. She nods slowly, “I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispers and she almost sounds sad, perhaps broken? “After all this time,” she adds.
She looks at Jungkook like he’s her whole universe. Oh how he wishes he could say the same thing about her—it’s what this beautiful girl deserves. She deserves someone whose heart beats for them and them only. That wasn’t Jungkook—he had you and god how much he wanted to spend his life with you only.
“When did you find out?” He asks keeping his voice low and steady so his nervousness won’t show through.
“When I was fourteen,” she says. His heart sinks even further for this girl. His name had been engraved upon her skin for 8 years.
He doesn’t say anything else, opting to look down at his feet. The tension is there—the tension the universe gives soul bonded people. He feels his tie suffocating him again and he reaches up to loosen it again, to no relief though.
Suddenly, Rose steps forward, grabbing Jungkook’s hand to move it away from his collar.
“Let me help,” she says and he swears his heart stops beating when her delicate fingers touch his. Rose manages to undo his impossibly tight neck tie from his mother, retying it just as fast, but a lot more comfortable for him and his neck. Suddenly, Jungkook is glad you were unable to come to Busan with him.
“Thanks,” he laughs, “It’s been suffocating me all night.”
“I could tell,” she returns a chuckle, her palms resting on his chest. She’s just as nervous as he is—he can see the way she breathes unevenly being this close to her.
“I’m Jungkook,” he says.
“Rose.”  
.
“Did you have a good Christmas?” You ask Jungkook as you step into his apartment. If possible, Jungkook came back with thrice as much stuff as he left with and you wanted to help him unpack.  
“Pretty good,” he says simply, “I think my parents were disappointed you weren’t there,” he chuckles lightly. Jungkook’s roommates were still back home, not coming back until the new year, so you were going to stay with him to keep him company.
“Well, one day I’ll meet them,” your eyes search for his and he seems somewhat off. He hasn’t said much since you’ve picked him up from the train station. His eyes have looked a little lost, unsure of where to look.
“Yeah,” he shrugs off his coat and begins to unzip one of his 3 suitcases. You unzip a second, noticing how different his clothes smell.
“I see your mom did your laundry?” You quirk an eyebrow at him. He glances at you briefly, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Of course, what kind of son would I be if I didn’t bring all my laundry for my mom to do?”
Small conversation is said between the two of you as you unpack, fold, and hang up his clothes. You can’t help but notice the luxury men’s wear tags in the pants and shirts you hang up.
“What do your parents do Jungkook?” Your thumb brushes over the thick material of a new coat he received as a gift.
He’s hesitant to speak but he decides to tell you anyways, “My dad is president of a large company back in Busan. You know my mom is an artist,” he says and you recall the days he’s spoke highly of his creative mother.
Ah, you think, now you understand where the wealth comes from.
“I don’t like telling people because I don’t want people to think I’m some spoiled snob,” he laughs at the thought.
“Babe, you’re the farthest thing from that. You know work hard for things you want, what does it matter what anyone else thinks,” you hang the last piece of clothing from his suitcase up and he watches you intently.
He leans against his desk, arms crossed as he watches you carefully.
“Wanna see something I got,” he says clearing his throat as you look him in the eyes. His eyes quickly look away from yours, unable to face you fully just yet. You nod when you notice his eyes light up as he rummages through his duffle bag to pull out a new camera.
“Holy shit,” you admire the piece of technology as he holds it carefully in his hands. “Who got you this?”
“My brother if you could believe it,” he sounds like he doesn’t even believe his brother was capable of gifting him such a nice present.
“Damn,” you mutter, “Have you used it yet?”
He nods, “I played around with it at the beach before I left,” he says looking at your subtle smile. “Here, lemme take a picture of you,” he smiles a little wider.
“What? Jungkook I look disgusting,” you step away from him. Your hair is thrown up on your head, no makeup, and an oversized ratted turtleneck covers your frame.
“Baby come on you’re beautiful,” he pouts while adjusting the lens and other settings. “Please I wanna remember this.”
You furrow your eyebrows at him, “Remember what? The remnants of my illness that’s made me look crusty for days now?”
He laughs at you, “Sure, whatever you wanna call it,” he holds up his camera to see the lighting on you. “Sit down and scoot back,” he commands to you. You do as he says, sitting on his bed and scooting so your back is hilt against the wall.
“Here?”
He nods, “Mhm,” he focuses on adjusting the last of what he needs to before he says, “Smile babe, you’re on camera.”
You give him a glare before your features soften, giving him a small smile as you look directly into the lens. Your eyes meet Jungkook’s through the lens and he feels his chest tighten. He hated this—he was so in love with you he couldn’t stand the thought of losing you. You were his present and future—he didn’t want anyone else. How could the universe break him like this?
He snaps a couple photos before looking at them in the small frame. A small smile lets loose on his lips as his heart palpitates for you. He feels your eyes watching him closely and you’re unsure why—despite his smile—he seems so sad and so unsure.
Whatever is bothering him, you could only hope that he would open up to you soon and not suppress his feelings.
Jungkook’s only hope right now is cherishing these moments with you because as he has come to learn in the past few days—nothing good ever lasts.
.
Your phone was buzzing and buzzing annoying you to your core as you tried your best to shove your dangly earrings in your ears. You look down at the caller ID and you roll your eyes with a groan.
“Fuck Taehyung we’re coming!” You half yell at your phone that was still buzzing on your desk. Hearing ruckus in your room, Jungkook peeps in.
“You good babe?” He asks taking notice of how your room is practically flipped upside down. Clothes and jewelry are sprung around and the dress you have decided to wear isn’t even zipped yet, your lower back fully exposed to him.
“Yes,” you say finally slipping the plastic backs on your earrings. You look over your shoulder at Jungkook, heat rushing to your face when you realize how good he looks tonight. “Will you zip me up?”
He nods taking a step towards you, his fingertips cold against your skin. He slowly zips the beaded material up your back slowly not wanting to catch any strings. When he’s done, he wraps his arms around your front pulling you close to him.
“You look beautiful,” he smiles into your neck and you keen into his arms, your feet already blistering in your heels.
“You look sexy,” you muse with a giggle. He turns your body around to flush against his front and he quickly leans down to capture your lips. He’s slow and gentle, wanting you to know how much he cherishes you. He’s careful not to put a hand in your hair knowing how frustrated you were trying to fix it right, so he cradles your neck in one of his hands as you lean into him deeper.
You jump slightly in his arms when your phone starts buzzing again. Jungkook steps away from you and you groan loudly again.
“Remind me to kill him when we get in the car,” you punctuate as you grab your bag and the baby blue coat Taehyung gave you.
“Will do,” Jungkook gives you a wink before grasping your hand into his tightly.
New Years Eve was always a fun time in your friend group, especially at your age. Ever since you started university, you and Taehyung had made it tradition to go to one of the fancier bars in your area for the special occasion. Only having to pay an upfront free—it meant an open bar, free music, and a damn good time.
“Goddamn Y/N,” Taehyung says as you’re waiting in line to get in the bar.
“What? Is there something on my face? My teeth?” You panic looking at your best friend.
“No,” he pauses looking at your date up and down, “You really lucked out didn’t you.”
Jungkook suddenly laughs as his comment and you swat Taehyung’s head.
“Hey back off buddy,” you say wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s torso, “He’s mine asshole.”
“And you’re mine,” Jimin eyes Taehyung playfully. Taehyung had already drank half a bottle of champagne in the car ride from your apartment so he was definitely feeling frisky. It was absolutely freezing outside tonight and Jungkook made sure to keep his arms around you as you waited and waited outside.
“What’s going to be your drink of choice tonight Kook?” You look up at your boyfriend who looks so unbelievable handsome you could cry.
“Hmm, I’m thinking whatever will get me very drunk. Perhaps whiskey?”
Your face contorts at the mention of the dark liquor. Too many bad memories with that one.
“Lemme guess,” Jimin says, “You’re going to down about five green tea shots and then switch over to vodka soda with a splash of cranberry juice.”
Your eyes widen, slightly perturbed, “Am I that basic of a bitch?”
Jimin nods once, “Babe I’m a bartender, we can see girls like you coming from a mile away.”
“Ugh, fine you got me. But maybe instead of vodka soda I’ll just do a flat.” Truth is, you hadn’t drank since your sick spell over Christmas and you were more than ready to get drunk.
A few more minutes and you’re in the crowded bar. You stay close to Jungkook, his hand secured around yours as you make your way to the bar. As expected, you order green tea shots and Jungkook lives up to his previous statement—ordering a whiskey sour to start his night.
You’ve never seen this many people here before. It’s loud, hot, and crowded but it’s everything you could want for New Years Eve. Besides, what’s the fun in going out if it’s not going to be a little chaotic?
After a few drinks, Jungkook finds himself relaxing as he dances close to you. He’s happy right here and right now, but he can’t fully let go—his mind occupied of another woman. He hates himself for doing this, but what is he supposed to do? He’s careful around his arms, making sure his watch stays put and he sleeve doesn’t venture too far up just in case.
Your smile is wide and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. Sure, it was scary now that you were starting your last semester of college in a week but since you had Jungkook—you felt more secure in whatever life decides to throw at you than ever.
“I love you,” you say to Jungkook. It’s simple but you could tell him every minute of everyday and not get tired of it.  
“I love you more,” he says. He’s honest and he only hopes you can’t see the deep sadness in his eyes. He kisses the tip of your nose and you scrunch it up at the feeling. “Do you want another drink?” He asks.
You nod, “Yes please.”
“Vodka cran?”  
You nod once again, “I’ll be with Taehyung over there.”
Jungkook leaves you behind, walking back towards the bar. If he really was going to try to forget his worries—he was going to need something stronger.
“Two shots of whiskey please,” he says. He’ll get your drink when he’s finished so the ice won’t water it down.
“I didn’t take you for a whiskey guy,” a voice comes from his left and when he looks, he feels his whole world stopping.
“R-Rose?” He blinks, making sure he’s seeing correctly.
“I thought it was you over here,” she smiles asking the bartender for a shot of tequila. “How are you?”
He’s speechless. How? Right now?
“Doing well, how are you?” He asks trying to seem sly. God he could only hope that no one he knew, especially you, saw him right now.
“Same, I’m mentally preparing for my hangover tomorrow,” she laughs before downing her shot quickly.
He smiles, “I feel that,” he downs his first shot. It’s hot and it’s burning his throat. “Listen I’ve been meaning to text you but—“
“Don’t worry about it,” she waves her hand, “I mean what are the odds of us being here together? That’s worth more than a text right?”
He swallows, “Y-you’re right. I didn’t know you lived here.”
She nods, her gaze heavy and somewhat obscene, “I go to the all girls university in the area.”
“Ah, I see,” Jungkook says glancing around. Thankfully the copious amount of people have shielded him from anyone’s view.
“Are you here anyone tonight?” Fuck.
“Just some friends,” he says smoothly. “You?”
“Same. My roommates made me come, but now I’m glad I did,” she smiles brightly and Jungkook can himself falling deep into the hole again. Fuck the fucking universe.
“Me too,” he says before he can catch himself. Her eyes glance down to his lips before she looks back up at him.
“Well, I need to get back to my friends before we get fully separated,” she smiles again, “Come say hi if you see me again,” she winks.
He nods, his eyes wide and mouth dry. “Will do.”
He downs the second shot as she walks away, his eyes unable to rip from her frame. Jungkook was in deep shit—no doubting that. There was only so much longer he could keep up this facade. He was heartbroken to the core and as much as he wanted to be selfish and forget about the name attached to his wrist—that wasn’t plausible. It was a reality he had to face sooner or later.
“Fuck,” he says, ordering your drink before he forgets and another shot of whiskey for the hell of it. There was no getting Rose off his mind now but he could at least try. He knew one thing though—once the clock struck midnight, he was ripping you out of this bar faster than a racehorse.
“Oh my god thank you,” you drunkenly smile up at Jungkook when he comes back with your drink. In your intoxicated state, you don’t notice Jungkook’s demeanor change as much as other people do. Specifically Jimin, who is standing off from your side, eyeing Jungkook up and down. Jungkook looks nervous, tense, and unsure about his surroundings. Jimin was curious about what happened to him in the last five minutes of him being gone.
“Oh shit you guys, it’s almost midnight!” Taehyung yells throwing an arm around Jimin’s shoulder.
“What are you gonna wish for?” You gaze up at Jungkook as he throws an arm around your frame protectively.
“Is that a thing babe?” He questions, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Of course it is!” You say, your expression wide and full of disbelief. “I mean I always do it.”
Jungkook leans down and pecks your forehead, his vision fuzzier now that the 3 shots of whiskey have been through his system, “Well I’ll make a wish then, just for you.”
“You better,” you wiggle your eyebrows at him. The clock hits 11:59 PM and the countdown to the new year begins.
Jungkook’s grip tightens around you, afraid that if he lets go you’ll find out his deepest secret and run away from him forever. You lean your head on his chest, unknowing of anything that’s bothering him deep down. You inhale his scent, his laundry and cologne intoxicating you even further.
Ten… nine… eight… seven… six… five… four… three… two… one!
You look up at Jungkook with another beautiful smile and he leans down to close the short gap between you two. The cheers around you drown out as you focus on each other. One of your hands pulls him down from the back of his hair closer to you, smiling into the kiss.
You wish for nothing to change—you were happy and had your partner—that’s all you could ever wish for.
Jungkook wishes for things to change—to go back to normal—but he was afriad that there wasn’t going to be a normal for you two ever again.
Jungkook makes love to you that night like you have never experienced. Every kiss, every touch, every breath is so slow and calculated. He thrusts deep and hard into you, hitting your cervix with each snap of his hips. You both are drunk but if anything that makes it all the better. You two are fully relaxed in each other’s arms and it was just you and him in that moment. He makes you come two, three, and by the fourth time you can’t breathe. His hands grip your waist and under your ass pushing himself possibly deeper into you.
You hold his face close to yours as he drowns out your half screams and moans with his lips. When he finally comes after holding back to relish each second of his cock being inside of you, it’s the most glorious orgasm he’s ever had.
“Fuck—“ you cut him off with your lips as he stills inside of you. “I love you,” he breathes out heavily, collapsing on his elbows.
“I love you,” you whisper back.
He kisses your collarbone and around your neck, trying to hold back his tears threatening to fall.
“I love you more,” is the last thing he says that night before you two drift off into sleep. He means every word.
.
University starts back up a couple weeks after New Years. Your final round of classes were starting off great—most of them being bullshit electives. You were going to enjoy your last semester here and you refused to waste yourself away in school work before hitting the “real world.” You didn’t have any classes with Jungkook or Namjoon this semester which was somewhat of a bummer but you would survive.
Jungkook wasn’t doing good to say the least. He was stressed more and more each day. He barely had a good nights sleep in weeks—waking up every few hours thinking about two very different girls in his life. He had begun to converse with Rose over text message so he didn’t seem like a grade-A asshole. Every time he sent or received a text back, his stomach churned and his heart yearned. He couldn’t help himself—this is how the universe works. It was the hardest thing for him to keep a secret like this from you. He hated lying to you and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could do it.
He turned to his photography more than ever in the past few weeks. His hobby slowly becoming his life to distract him from his actual problems. It’s how he found himself early out in the morning, before 7 AM to be exact, shooting the sunrise from a river about ten minutes from his apartment. He was playing with his new toy and lenses that Junghyun had gifted him, loving the camera the more shots he snapped. He didn’t have class until noon and he couldn’t sleep and he couldn’t think of a better way to pass the time.
It was quiet and peaceful. He loved the countryside and this spot reminded him of back home. It was freezing to say the least and he quickly threw on his gloves before he went through his recent captures.
“Jungkook?” His name leaves a female and his chest twists—recognizing who it is immediately. He looks away from his camera, Rose approaching him from his right. She’s wearing leggings and a thick jacket with running shoes.
“H-hey,” he drops his camera some, “What are you doing up this early?” He asks as she stops in front of him.
“I could ask the same to you,” she smiles breathing heavily. She looks down at his camera before looking back up at his face, “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to go on a run to clear my head.”
He nods slowly, “The best way to clear your head indeed,” he muses. “Same though, to answer your question. Couldn’t sleep and I figured I would come takes some pictures.”
She hesitates before asking her next question, “Can I see?”
Jungkook doesn’t answer immediately, looking down at his camera nervously.
“O-only if you want to though,” she adds picking up on his secluded frame.
His eyes soften and his shoulders drop, “No, it’s fine, here.” He clicks around the buttons to bring up the most recent pictures of the sunrise, the river, and it’s reflection.
“Wow,” Rose whispers, smoke following her words as they hit the cold air as he clicks through each one, “These are great Jungkook.”
He smiles shyly, glancing down her frame, “Thanks.” She’s shorter than you are, her head barely hitting his shoulder.
“Have you been taking pictures for long?” She looks up at him when he’s done showing the pictures.
“A few years now,” he says, “It’s my favorite thing to do with my free time.”
“Well from what I can see you’re really talented,” she smiles, “You should do it professionally.”
He blushes, “A man can only wish,” he laughs, fog coming from his lips too.
A silence falls between the two of them. Jungkook isn’t sure what to do and Rose looks around the area, only a handful of people in the surrounding vicinity.
“Hey I was about to go to this café down the street, wanna come with?” She asks. Jungkook is taken aback by her offer. He notices a sadness behind her eyes and he bites the inside of his cheek before nodding slowly.
“Yeah, that’d be nice.”
The café is small and quiet. It smells of espresso and pastries. Jungkook orders himself a coffee with cream and sugar while Rose decides to get some type of iced drink.
“It’s below freezing and you’re drinking iced coffee?” He quirks a brow at her as they sit down beside the main window.
She shrugs, “I love iced coffee more than I love myself.”
He smiles, sipping on his hot coffee slowly not wanting to burn his tongue. Another silence falls between them and Jungkook takes this time to study her more. She’s petite and gorgeous. She’s the type of girl he grew up crushing over. In the few conversations they’ve had,  he knows they are very much alike. Each day talking to her and seeing her pop up in random places in his life proved to him this wasn’t a fluke. Rose was his soulmate and Jungkook was hers. That’s the fucking reality and it fucking sucks for him. He could see himself falling for Rose quicker than anyone else before—that’s what is supposed to happen anyways. But he had you—he didn’t want anyone else. You were his end all be all, not Rose.
“Jungkook,” she speaks lowly, “Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Are you seeing someone right now?”
Her question makes his heart rate speed up.
“W-what?” His mouth is dry despite the coffee, “H-how—?”
“One of my friends on New Years saw you leave with a girl,” her voice breaks off. Shit.
“I,” he pauses, unsure of what to say, “It’s complicated.”
Complicated?! He was in a committed relationship that was approaching 6 months!
“I’d rather you tell me the truth than lie Jungkook,” she says. “We’re soulmates, we’re supposed to open up to each other.”
He furrows his eyebrows deeply, “It’s not that easy Rose. I just met you almost month ago.”
His words cut her deep but she stands her ground.
“I get that but,” she pauses, “I just don’t want you and whoever you’re seeing to be hurt. I’m sure you knows what happens when—“
“Yes. I know,” he says. He’s already seen it—you’ve already experienced it. The constant up and down sickness from you was just one side effect of a bonded soul that stays with one who isn’t bonded to them.
“Do you love her?” She asks.
“With everything in me,” he answers honestly. She looks away from her soulmate, unsure of how to feel. She had been waiting for him for 8 years. She was expecting her happy ever after. The last thing she thought would happen is that her soulmate would be in love with someone else. Processing this information was going to difficult for her and she couldn’t begin to imagine what Jungkook was going through right now.
“Have you told her?”
He shakes his head slowly, “No.”
She purses her lips, squeezing her cup a little too hard, “I’m not telling you how to go about this Jungkook, but if you really loved her, why are you continuing to hurt her?”  
.
“Taehyung we have to talk right now,” Jimin says into his phone.
“Baby it’s not even 8 AM,” Taehyung’s morning voice is deeper than his actual voice.
“No—like Taehyung it’s urgent.”
Taehyung is beginning to worry what could possibly be going on.
“Is everything okay?” He asks sitting up in his bed, pushing the hair from his face.
“No,” he says, “Not at all.”
Jimin hangs up the phone and makes his way to Taehyung’s apartment. He half jogs, unable to keep up with his feet. Jimin’s mind is racing as he begins to piece his suspicions together.
“Good morning,” Jimin enters the apartment, a shiver going down his back as he steps into the significantly warmer apartment. Jimin glances around the apartment, his eyes frantic. “Y/N isn’t here, is she?”
Taehyung watches his boyfriend with tired eyes like a hawk. “No, why would she be here?”
Jimin nods quickly, “When did she first get sick?”
“Whoa, Jimin what’s going on?” Taehyung holds his hands up, his brain still not fully functioning.
“Just answer the damn question.”
“Uh, Christmas morning, early in the morning.”
“And has she been sick since then?”
Taehyung furrows his eyebrows, “Um, she mentioned being sick the day after New Years. Jimin this is stupid, she was hungover both days—“
“Do you know who this girl is?” Jimin pulls out his phone, pulling up a picture of Jungkook and a girl neither of them knew sitting at a small cafe across from each other.
“Where did you get this?” Taehyung asks taking his phone to zoom in on the pic.
“This morning,” he says, “I went to the gym and saw those two together.”
“What does this mean? Is Jungkook cheating on Y/N?!” Taehyung feels himself begin to get angry, handing the phone back to Jimin.
“Well according to Hoseok, the bartender from New Years I sometimes see around asked who the girl Jungkook was cuddled up to at the bar on New Years… and it wasn’t Y/N.”
Taehyung’s face clenches, “W-what? I don’t understand what you’re getting at Jimin. Is Jungkook cheating on Y/N?” He asks again.
“Taehyung, don’t you get it?” Jimin asks running a hand through his hair, “I study this stuff for fucksakes! This,” he holds up his phone of the picture again, “She’s Jungkook’s soulmate, Tae.”
His mouth parts open, “H-how are you so sure?”
“I don’t know the full story but I’m guessing a name came up on Jungkook over Christmas and destiny brought them together after being apart for so long…”
“A name? Jimin, Jungkook is 22 like Y/N… they don’t—“
“Late bloomers—it’s rare, but it happens Taehyung.”
“Fuck,” Taehyung breathes out, fully awake now, “So Jungkook has a soulmate and hasn’t told Y/N I’m assuming.”
Jimin nods, “I’m sure of it. She needs to know Taehyung—it’ll only get worse for her the longer Jungkook stays with her,” his voice trails off. Jimin cared for you as much as anyone close to you and he knew the consequences of tangoing with someone else who was soul bonded.
“I’m gonna kill Jungkook,” Taehyung grips his hair harshly, “When should we tell her?”
Jimin hesitates but speaking after thinking about what could happen to you the more Jungkook hides his secret, “The sooner the better.”
.
“Babe I don’t know how to do this,” you whine as you stares at a knife and a half open salmon. Jungkook laughs at your attempt to filet the fish for your dinner together.
“It’s not that hard Y/N,” he says pointedly, coming to aid your aid. In one motion, Jungkook manages to remove the skin from the fish.
You roll your eyes at him, “Why are you so fucking good at everything?”
“I’m just that talented,” he gives you a side eye before throwing the fish into the marinade. “Are you sure you want to salmon by the way? I know you’re still not feeling the best.”
“Jungkook it’s fine—I’m not going to get sick from this,” you hoped at least, “Plus you love it and I wanted to do something special for our anniversary.”
It was true—today marked your sixth months with Jungkook. January was brutally cold and quickly passed. Now the beginning of February wasn’t any warmer, but it did mark that spring was coming soon.
You couldn’t believe you had been with Jungkook for sixth months. Six months had come and gone like that. It was odd being in a committed relationship for this long when two people weren’t soulmates—but frankly, you were sure Jungkook was your soulmate so it didn’t really matter anyways.
As Jungkook watched you whip up some rice and veggies to go on the side, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. Guiltier than fuck. It had just been over a month since he meet Rose and to put it shortly—the universe was fucking trying it. No matter where he went, she always seemed to be there. They texted at least a few times everyday, obviously keeping it to himself. Rose was being patient, as she was trying her best to understand Jungkook’s situation, though he had a gut feeling she didn’t want to wait around much longer for him. Time was running out for Jungkook and it was running out faster than he ever wished it do be.  
You and Jungkook finish and eat dinner together on the couch. Sure he had a small dining room table but it was tradition for the two of you to cuddle up on the couch together for your meals. Plus, his roommates weren’t home so you may as well make yourself comfy.
“What are you thinking about?” you ask Jungkook when he goes silent for a few moments. As much as you loved Jungkook, you knew something had been bothering him for weeks that he hadn’t opened up to you about. If it was something he really wanted to open up with you about, he would have already and you felt it wasn’t your place to prod. When he was ready, he would be ready you suppose.
“Hm?” his doe eyes look into yours before glancing away, “Nothing much… I just can’t believe we’re graduating in three months,” he laughs shaking his head in disbelief.
You agreed with him, “Crazy right… are you scared?”
He looks down at your legs that are draped across his, “Yeah, I am.”
A look falls on his face that you can’t read. He’s blank on the outside but you’re sure deep down whatever he’s thinking about is torturing him.
“Jungkook,” you nudge him, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” he asks with a grimace.
“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I just feel like something has been bothering you.”
He bows his head and you’re sure he’s about to be fully honest with you until he says, “I’m just stressed babe.”
You narrow your eyes at him. Stressed you can believe—but what? School? Family? Us?
“If you don’t tell me what’s wrong I can’t help you Jungkook,” you say. You can visibly see his jaw clenching as he grinds his teeth.
“If I wanted you to know don’t you think I would fucking tell you Y/N?” he snaps and it makes you jump in your position, “Don’t be so goddamn nosy if it’s none of your business.”
Jungkook stands up from the couch and your mouth parts at his words. Not only are you taken aback, but you can’t believe Jungkook actually spoke to you like that.
“Don’t fucking talk to me like that,” you stand up and make your way towards him. He’s lean against the counter, his head down. “Jungkook, hey, what the fuck?” you ask him, beginning to get more and more frustrated as each second passes.
He lifts his head to look at you, a pained expression on his features, “Look I’m sorry—“
He’s cut off by heavy knocks on your door. Neither of were expecting anyone and if it was his roommates, they would have just used their keys. Your eyes follow Jungkook when he goes and opens the door. What happens next goes by so fast you weren’t even sure it happened until Jungkook is stumbling backwards, a groan emitting from his lips.
“Taehyung?!” you nearly scream rushing over to Jungkook, “What the fuck?! What are you doing?!” Taehyung walks into the apartment with Jimin close behind him.
“Ow, fuck man,” Jungkook holds his cheek in pain. Taehyung didn’t look like he had much power but he just proved himself wrong.
“Have you told her yet,” Taehyung speaks, looking straight at Jungkook, “Or are you still lying to her?”
You look between the two of them, your mind racing and confused.
“Told me what? Taehyung what the fuck are you doing, are you crazy?!” you yell at him again.
Jungkook and Taehyung continue to glare at each other. Jungkook notices Jimin staring too and he knows—it’s over.
“Not right now Taehyung,” Jungkook says angrily. You whip your head over Jungkook again. What’s going on?!
“Told me what?” you ask looking back over at Taehyung and then Jungkook again, “Told me what Jungkook?!” you raise your voice at him.
“Y/N,” Jungkook says, his eyes full of a wave of sadness. Your heart begins to race, your hands clammy and you feel like you might get sick again.
“What’s going on Jungkook?” you feel tears begin to well in your eyes. You know something isn’t right, otherwise this would not be happening right now.
“I was gonna tell you,” Jungkook’s voice breaks off as he comes closer to you, taking your hands in his, “I just didn’t know how.”
You feel a tear come down your face, “Baby what’s happening?”
“Hurry the fuck up,” Taehyung spits, “We don’t have all night.”
“Taehyung,” Jimin scolds him from behind.
Jungkook doesn’t break his gaze with you as he lets go of your hands. He pulls the sleeve of his left sweatshirt, moving his silver watch back in the process. When your eyes fall onto it—the name—it feels like you’ve been shot in the chest. Your breathing picks up and you look back into Jungkook’s eyes.
You shake your head, “No, no, no,” you mumble, “This is a joke right? This has to be a fucking joke,” the tears are now falling in rhythmic streams down your face.
“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook says, tears now welling his eyes eyes, “Y/N I love you so much—“
“How long have you known?” you step away from him, feeling light headed and queazy. He doesn’t answer until you press again. “How long have you fucking known Jungkook?!”
“Over a month,” his voice drops and you don’t ever think you’ve felt the sharp pains shooting in your chest until now.
“Y/N,” Jimin speaks this time, “I think you should come with us.”
“You’ve been lying to me all this time?” you ignore Jimin, your voice cracking on the edges.
“Y/N, no baby please,” he steps towards you, his hands finding your face, “I-I didn’t know what to d-do. I l-love you and you only you, nothing will ever change that,” Jungkook pleads. You shake your head, pushing him away from you.
“It changes everything Jungkook!” you yell at him, furiously wiping the tears from your face, “You’ve known about your soulmate for a goddamn month and you thought you could hide that from me?! Are you kidding me Jungkook?!”
Jungkook pulls at the roots of his hair, glancing over to Taehyung and Jimin, “I’m sorry Y/N,” he repeats, “W-we can do something about this, there has to be—“
“No,” you spit, “No, it doesn’t fucking matter anymore Jungkook,” you pause, glancing down at your hands, “There’s no way around this and you lied to me.”
“Y/N, please,” Jungkook’s heart breaks all over again as he watches you gather your things, shoving your feet into your shoes.
“Take this,” you rip the ring that suddenly didn’t mean anything to you anymore off your finger, shoving it into Jungkook’s palm. He stares at the jewelry, his eyes watery and blurry.
“Come on,” Taehyung says holding out his arm for you. With one last glance at Jungkook, you turn on your feet and walk out of his apartment. Jimin shuts the door behind of you two and you don’t even make it to their car when you break down into a full sob, Taehyung wrapping his arms around you protectively. You didn’t just walk out of Jungkook’s apartment—you’ve walked out of his life too.
SPRING
Spring was always your favorite season. The blossoming of trees and flowers always seemed to cheer up your mood. More sunlight meant more happiness and less seasonal depression. The warming weather was always a nice touch after cruel and harsh winters. This year though, you thought no one could hate Spring as much as you did.
Everyday was new challenge for you. When you and Jungkook first broke up—your feelings were indescribable. The mental and physical chest pains you experienced from your heartbreak were sure the worst you could ever have. You were a broken soul—a soul not meant for someone who you loved more than life itself sometimes.  
It was hard doing simple things—getting out of bed, doing your laundry, going to class, eating meals—it was all such a burden to you. You cried and cried and cried until you had no more tears left. Sleep was even worse as it meant your unconscious state always drifted into thoughts of Jungkook. There was the time frame where Jungkook called you, left messages and voicemails, tried to contact you through Taehyung and others—but it was all the more painful. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to rid any trace of him from your phone, afraid that you might forget what he looked or sounded like.
No one had ever seen you in such a broken state. You thought you’re mind couldn’t drift into worse territory until one night, you thought about Jungkook and his soulmate—whoever she was. You thought about him loving her, making love to her, taking pictures of her, marrying her, having kids with her, looking at her the way he looked at you—it completely shattered you even more. You don’t remember how much you drank that night. One shot of vodka? Two? Seven? Glasses of wine? It didn’t matter you just needed to forget.
It was when Taehyung found you that night passed out over your toilet, is when he recommended seeing someone. At first, your idea of going to a therapist over a failed relationship seemed silly. But Taehyung made sure that you and Jungkook were more than a college fling—it was real and it was going to take a lot of time to get over.
Your therapist was a nice woman, upper forties maybe, slim face and blonde hair. Your first couple sessions with her didn’t go as smooth as you wished for. She asked you hard questions that you weren’t willing to answer. The third session you went to, you broke down in front of a stranger becoming the most vulnerable you’d ever been.
She knew you loved Jungkook and he loved you just as deeply too. She explained soul-bonding more in depth to you that day. The universe has a reason why it pairs two souls together and why some people are left bare. It’s a phenomenon that’s barely studied but she suspects it’s more common than people want to believe. There’s also a process called soul-breaking, that is rare too but the consequences can bare far greater risks so majority of the people stay away from it.
Overall, you grew up your whole life thinking something was wrong with you. You thought you were a glitch because you didn’t receive a name on your body at 18. But if anything, meeting with your therapist made you realize that nothing was wrong with you. You live a healthy life, have a family, have friends, and you fell in love with someone—and all that is okay.
“I do believe if two people are meant to be together, they will be, someway or somehow,” she said to you one day.
Nearly two months after your break up and one month left until graduation—it was still hard. You had been prescribed antidepressants for a few weeks now and while it did numb your pain for the most part, there were times when thinking about Jungkook just made you want to curl into a ball and forget about your tasks for that day. You told yourself you needed to stop doing that though—you had to be strong otherwise you couldn’t move forward.
“Here you go,” Taehyung plops down a cup of steaming coffee and a bagel in front of you. Your stomach growls at the site.
“Thank you,” you give him a smile, “I’m starved.”
“I bet, you’ve been writing that paper for fucking hours,” he says digging into his own bagel with salmon and cream cheese. You should mention you hated salmon too now.
Taehyung was the greatest friend anyone could have, that you were sure of. Everyday, he called or texted to check in on you. He brought you food to make sure you were eating. Him and Jimin would invite you to the movies or restaurants with them. You refrained from going out to bars with them, too afraid you might run into the wrong people. Nonetheless, without Taehyung by your side, you were sure these past two months would have been much more difficult.
“I got my cap and gown in the mail,” he sings songs scrolling through his phone.
“Jesus Christ Tae, can you believe we’re graduating college?”
He laughs, “I said the same thing when we graduated high school,” he glances at you, “Look at us now bitches!” he holds his arms out dramatically.
You laugh at him, chewing on your food slowly. If there was one positive about being alone the past two months, it meant your illness had gone away completely. Your therapist explained how illnesses of different forms can plague people who play a role in betraying a soul-bonded person. Though you already knew that from your project last semester.
“Did you ever hear back from that company?” Taehyung asks you as you mule over in small conversation.
“Uh yeah,” you smile shyly, playing with the ends of your hair.
“Welllll?”
“I got an offer, if I want it,” your smile widens even more. Taehyung’s mouth drops open before it melts into his signature boxy smile.
“Wait, really? Holy shit, Y/N that’s amazing!”
“Thanks,” you look away from him, heating rushing to your cheeks. It was an exciting opportunity and you felt this was the path for you.
“But wait hold on,” he pauses, “Does this mean… you’re moving? To New York City?”
There’s the bombshell you haven’t dropped on many people yet. New York City. It was always a dream of yours to possibly live there one day. And now with nothing holding you back here, when you applied for the company and they asked a preferred location—you said fuck it.
“Yeah, later in the summer,” your voice is low. Taehyung’s shoulders drop, his happy mood diminishing ever so slightly.
“New York…” he ticks, “Well I’ve always wanted to go there so I’ll have to visit once or five times a year.”
You nod giving him a short wink, focusing on the rest of you coffee and food. Slowly but surely, you were getting better. You knew that your future days would be filled with five steps forward, two steps back but it was the natural process. Once you graduated and moved onto to bigger and better things—you’ll understand that this chapter, while thick and important, was only just a chapter. You have another one already waiting at the starting line to begin.
.
Jungkook was numb—literally numb as a needle digs in and out of skin, inking a flower onto his forearm. He had this one for awhile, but it still needed the little details to perfect the tattoo to his liking. His first tattoos, the scattered pieces on his hands were the most painful. However, now as he has a good amount of ink on his arm all the way to his shoulder, the pain isn’t there that much. He almost likes the stinging sensation as it gives him something to focus on rather than his intrusive thoughts.
The past few months haven’t been easy on him. Watching you walk away from him hit him harder than when Rose’s name showed up on his skin. And he just let you. Sure, he called and texted and persisted as much as he could but he knew he should have done more. He should have explained in more depth why he did what he did. Yes, it was because he loved you with every fiber of his being, but he genuinely didn’t care if he was meant for someone else. He wanted to be with you despite the situation present. There was surely something he could do to make it right but you were long gone from his life. He was stuck in a hole and he didn’t know how to get out.
Jungkook and Rose saw each other more frequently after his break up. She was so kind and so patient with him, he knew she deserved so much more. She never rushed anything with him, always waiting for his moves. The first time he kissed her, there was tingling deep in his chest. As great as kissing Rose was, she could never compare to you. It was hard and confusing for him to understand. He’s heard all his life—when soulmates cross paths and become intimate with each other, their whole world begins to revolve around them. That wasn’t the case though. As much as he was being pulled in by Rose, he was being pulled into a completely different direction. That wasn’t how bonded souls worked, he knew that much.
“You’re not very talkative today,” his tattooist comments as she wipes away the leftover ink on his arms. Jungkook always preferred a female to do his tattoos as they seem to have more control and a gentler grip.
“Just a lot on my mind,” he shrugs turning his head towards the tattoo needle.
“Women issues?” she raises an eyebrow at him.
“Is it that obvious?” he half laughs.
“My job requires a lot of listening and giving advice,” she says, “I know a damsel in distress when I see one.”
He doesn’t say anything as he watches the way she furrows her eyebrows, getting closer to his skin to add the finishing touches.
“Are you still with, Y/N? Was it?” she then asks. The mention of your name sends his face pale. How many months had it been since he last saw you or mentioned you? One, two, three? All of his days blended together so he’s lost track of time.
He shakes his head slowly, “No.”
She looks at him from the corner of her eyes, “Really? I thought you were gonna marry her?”
He bites down on his bottom lip to hold down his emotions before saying, “That was the plan until the universe decided to throw me bullshit.”
She’s never heard Jungkook sound angry. He’s always been very polite and an overall happy person. Jungkook felt he had a right to be angry and resentful. Unfortunately, that anger and resentment was sometimes projected onto those people around him. His roommates had to walk on eggshells around him now, afraid he might fully break if they said one wrong thing to him.
“When did this happen?” she knows exactly what he’s referring to.
“A few months back, around Christmas.”
“Have you met them yet? Your partner?” she pauses when she notices Jungkook’s jaw clenching as he’s staring at the ceiling now, “You don’t have to say anything if you’re uncomfortable. I just like to think I’m good at giving advice, is all.”
“Yeah, we’ve met,” he contemplates elaborating but does so anyways, “But it’s not this big grand affair that I was told about my whole life. She’s amazing and just my type, but… she’s not her. I like her a lot, but I don’t get the same fiery feeling I had with Y/N.”
“Hm,” she muses, putting down the tattoo gun, “You’re done,” she gives a small smile at him. He holds up his arm to inspect the new ink.
“Thanks, it looks great,” he gives her a small smile as she begins the aftercare process of petroleum jelly and a bandage.
“Can I see your mark?” she asks. He nods before shimmying his watch down his arm, revealing Rose’s name in thin cursive. The mark itself is still very much there, but recently it’s begun to fade and he wasn’t sure why.
“Sorry if I’m giving you too much information,” he laughs feeling slightly awkward as she inspects the name.
“It’s fine, I’m the one that asked,” she chuckles again before she sits back in her chair and begins to lift her own sleeve up. He’s confused as to what’s she doing but when she lays out her hand, he sees it. “This showed up when I was nineteen,” he reads the name that’s barely visible anymore—almost looking like a scar.
“Why’s it not dark anymore?” he asks.
“The same reason yours is fading too,” she looks back at his wrist.
“What do you mean fading?” so he wasn’t crazy—it was actually fading.
“It’s what happens when someone’s heart belongs to someone else,” she says, “I don’t know how to explain it but it occurs more than you think.”
She wraps up Jungkook’s forearm and he’s more confused than ever.
“The world is so fucked up,” he comments closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Heard that,” she nods in agreement, “Come on, I’ll ring you up.”
That day into the tattoo shop was a good day for him. It felt nice to open up about his situation to someone who seemingly understood what he was going through. Yes, the world was fucked up but so was everyone living in it. He didn’t understand the full meaning of his mark fading but he knew in the long run, he would deal with whatever was thrown at him. He had to otherwise he was going to live a long, miserable life. Besides, he knows that you would want him to be happy even though you probably hated him for what he did. He wants the same for you because at the end of the day, if he knew you were happy—he would be too.
. The smile on your face as you threw your cap into the air was probably the biggest and most genuine smile you’ve put on for months. The cheers and clapping from everyone in the room drowned out any tears that formed in your eyes. Of course you were happy to be done with university, but it was very bittersweet. The last four years of your life have been the best and worst possible. Everything you’ve learned here, you were sure would live with you for the rest of your life.
You find your parents and younger sister after the ceremony. The hug with your dad is the best you’ve had in a long time. He squeezes you tight, picking you up slightly.
“Gah, we’re so proud of you Y/N,” your mom dabs the inner corners of her eyes as she watches the seen unfold.
“I can’t believe my baby is graduated,” your dad pulls away, ruffling your hair a bit.
“Hey! Stop I spent time on this,” you step away from him, smoothing down your roots.
“Does this mean we get to go to New York now?” your big sister, Mia asks your parents. She’s pulls you into a hug which you exhale deeply in return. You didn’t get to see your sister as much as you wished, but growing up she was your rock. She was the best role model you could have asked for.
“Of course,” you say, “Only if you bring me bags and bags of those honey butter chips.”
“Anything you want we can bring it, or ship it!” your mom nods enthusiastically.
“What about me?” you turn around at the voice of Taehyung, throwing your arms around him.
“Holy shit Taehyung we’ve done it!” you exclaim. Your parents give you a slide on your language in front of them, understanding the circumstance.
“Mia! What’s up!?,” Taehyung pokes your sister on the shoulder before giving her a quick hug. He holds up his diploma and smiles, “Four years and thousands upon thousands of dollars later, we’ve made it.”
“Do you still wanna go downtown? Grab some dinner?” you ask your parents and they nod excitedly.
“Definitely—you choose wherever,” your father smiles. “Taehyung, you and Jimin are welcome to come if you don’t have any plans.”
“Oh we will definitely be there,” he smiles, “Just text me where you guys are going. I gotta go find the devil and my parents through all this mess. See you later!”
Later ended up being at a nicer restaurant downtown that you had never been to—too broke as a college student to ever think about coming here for dinner. You mulled over conversation with glasses of wine and good food, Taehyung being the star of the dinner table. Jimin smiled lovingly at his partner, slightly jealous that you and Taehyung were now finished with school. He’s got another year left in his master’s program so he’ll be graduated this time next year.
When you’re finally done with dinner, you part with your parents and sister for the evening outside the restaurant when you run into an all familiar face.
“Y/N?”
You turn to the source, “Namjoon?” a smile spreads over your face and you quickly make your way to him and give him a squeeze.
“Congrats!” he smiles when you pull away, looking back over your shoulder.
“You too, I can’t believe we’re done,” you laugh taking in his attire. He’s dressed in a nice button down and dress pants, glasses resting on his face looking dapper as ever. “Oh this is my family,” you introduce the them.
“Nice to meet you,” he smiles, “This is Kaya,” he smiles and you didn’t even realize he had company with him. You introduce yourselves to each other and she’s got to be one of the most beautiful girls you’ve met. They look damn good together.
“Nice to meet you,” you return your own smile.
“Is dinner here good?” he asks all of you. Everyone agrees in response and he looks over to Kaya, “Well, it was good to meet you all. Let’s catch up one day? You’re gonna be around in the city right?”
“A city yes,” Mia interjects crossing her arms, slightly envious of you, “Not this one, but New York City.”
Namjoon raises his eyebrows at you, “Wow, big girl things huh?”
You laugh repeating his words, “Big girl things.”
Namjoon and Kaya leave into the bustling restaurant after some finals words and you’re finally parting ways with your family. You mom and dad give you another bone crushing hug before they have to go back home. Mia looks at you with a sadness in her eyes and you furrow your eyebrows at her.
“What’s wrong?” you ask her as she hides herself in her shell.
“I don’t want you to leave,” she pouts, slumping her shoulders.
“I still have a few more months home,” you give her a smile, “And I promise you can visit me and I’ll come back as much as I can.”
“Promise?” she holds up her pinky. You link your pinkies together before nodding your head.
You bid your farewell’s to your family one last time before you’re left alone with Jimin and Taehyung.
“Your sister is funny,” Jimin comments as you begin to walk in the opposite direction of them. Your heels were absolutely killing your feet and you were tempted to take them off but thinking about the dirt and grim on the street made you think otherwise.
“She’s sweet on the outside but damn she can be a handful,” you laugh.
“She’s almost twenty five babe, about to hit her first mid-life crisis what do you expect?” Taehyung says.
Minuscule conversation occurs between the three of you before they have to part ways too. Taehyung and Jimin were meeting up with Taehyung’s parents at a bar just outside the city to celebrate. The sun was now setting, the air warm and sticky as you hugged them off. You were walking back to the parking garage that you had your car when something catches your eye on the way. Downtown was filled with bars, restaurants, boutiques and what nots, but you’ve never seen this before. It was an art studio of sorts, pictures—digital and art canvases—hanging from the windows.
You stared at the plexiglass, a sense of familiarity crossing your mind the longer you stared at the blown up photographs. You take a peak at the hours listed on the door and see that they don’t close for another twenty minutes or so. Curiosity getting the best of you, you swing open the door, silence engulfing you as you step in.
Your heels clink against the hardwood, glancing around the space. It’s quite spacious, pictures lining the walls up and down all the way to the back. A few art pieces are strayed in the middle of the floor. You walk slowly around the gallery, admiring the painted canvases and shots of various things. You pick up there’s different artists and photographs displaying their works and when you get towards the back left corner of the place, you stop in your tracks.
A gallery of scenic pictures ranging from clouds, to the sea, to the cityscapes, and more hang beautifully in thin frames. Something twists inside you as you feel deep down that you’ve seen some of these before you just cannot put your finger on it. It’s when you see a picture to the farthest right when you feel yourself skipping a breath. Your mouth parts when you realize what it it—or who it is. It’s you. It’s black and white film developed, the side of your face looking off into the distance with trees behind you. Your mind flashes back to that day in the park—with Jungkook—a small picnic he set up when you first got together.
“Y/N?” you whip around at the sound of your name.
“J-Jungkook?” his name leaves your lips instantly. He’s emerged from a back room stopping dead in his tracks. You’re speechless. He looks so good—better than you remember. His hair a little longer with blonde tips, a white button up, sleeves rolled up with black slacks that he fills out perfectly.
“H-hey,” he speaks first. His eyes trailing up and down your body quickly. You subconsciously glance down at your frame, the white dress and heels you’re wearing hoping to match how he good looks. “What are you doing here?”
“I—“ you pause looking back at the pictures, “I was just passing by and was curious, I didn’t know this place existed.”
Slowly, he steps closer to you shoving his hands in his pockets. His ears are red and he can’t believe that you’re here, looking at his favorite picture he ever took of you.
“It just opened up recently,” he says getting closer to you, though leaving a considerable amount of space between you two. “I started selling some of my pieces through here,” he explains.
“That’s great Jungkook,” you give him a small smile to hide the hurt you’re actually feeling. It’s been months and suddenly all of your progress seems to have backtracked. He was so beautiful—the most perfect man you have ever met—and he’s standing here before you again. Jungkook can’t believe his eyes either—you’re here, feet away from him, something he thought he’d never see anymore.
“How are you doing?” he asks, unable to take his off you. You can feel him staring holes into you and you can’t bring yourself to look at him just yet.
“I’m good, you?” you continuously stare at his photos, feeling self conscious the more you stand in his presence.
“I’m okay,” better now that you’re here, is what he wants to say, but he refrains. “You look good,” he says and you look over and up at him, meeting his eye contact.
“You too,” you nod, your eyes trailing down to his wrist, not even realizing what you’re doing. His watch still there, hasn’t moved since the last time you saw him. You feel a tingle in your fingertips and chest, unable to hide your awkwardness.
“Y/N,” he stops himself so you’ll look at him again. Fuck, he loves it when you look at him like that. “Would you want to get some coffee one day? Or something like that?” his words are brave and you can’t believe he said them.
As much as you know you shouldn’t—that you might be setting yourself up for further hurt—something between the two makes you say otherwise. Besides, you’ve been hurt enough, what’s a little more going to do?
You slowly with a small smile, “What about right now? A-are you free?”
He glances at his photos with a small smile in return before glancing back to you, his shoulders slumping as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders.
“Yeah… yeah I’m free.”
5K notes · View notes
hikarimiyanaga · 3 years
Text
Loving You (Part 4)
Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3
Tumblr media
I want to celebrate since I just finished another exam... there are more to come but Wanda comes first so here's an update.
Warning : Omegaverse. Beta!Reader x Omega!Wanda Maximoff. Curse Words. Mentions of Bullying. S*x Talk.
Also, just tell me if I need to add more warnings so I can edit as quickly as I can.
Taglist : @mitchiesdungeon / @upsidedowndanvers
You wake up with a startle and pant. You flinch at the sound of your loud alarm and see that it was right next to your pillow.
“Jesus, what the fuck?” You took your phone and open it. You see the messages between you and Wanda. You grin and charge it before getting ready for school. Both of your parents note your chippy behavior as oppose to your usual calm.
“Morning, Ma, Mom!” You greet and grin as you get your breakfast. You eat quickly and get your bag with your phone on it. You put on your jacket and smile as you wave them goodbye.
-
You yawn as you trudge the halls, now on a mission. You see Wanda and notice that even though there is no scent coming from her, she’s not wearing a jacket. You take off yours and smile as you approach her.
“Y/N!” She smiles and you offer up your jacket.
“Want to-“ She takes it before you could finish and puts it on. “put it on?” She sniffs it and nods.
“I really like your scent.” You blush and your heart beat faster at her words. She smiles and takes your hand. “Thanks for the jacket.” You gulp and nod as she drags you to your own locker. You get your books from your locker when someone closes it with force. You manage to keep it open but glare at the owner of the hand. Janine. You get Wanda behind you.
“Y/LN.” She says and you roll your eyes. You get the last book from your locker and lock it.
“What the fuck do you want? Rumlow’s scent isn’t enough? Fucking him isn’t doing it anymore?” Janine glares and pushes you but you stay firm. Determined in not letting her get closer to Wanda.
“Shut the fuck up, Y/LN. You fucking Beta.” Wanda glares at Janine as Angel and Pietro go to her. They stop Wanda before she does something to Janine. You roll your eyes and sigh.
“Just say it and get it over with.”
“My friend, Nina is on your AP Class.” You raise an eyebrow as the said girl is dragged by Janine to you.
“So? The fuck that-“
“She needs to copy your homework. We were busy with practice and she hasn’t done it.” You look at Nina.
“What homework? Which class?”
“Um… Latin? The research one?” You scoff and shake your head.
“The one where I spent days on? The one where I had to hole myself up in the library? No fucking way. I can help with references but that’s it.”
“Oh? Really? That will be-“ Janine pushes Nina out of the way and grabs your collar. You make a face as you can practically smell her heat. Jesus, what the fuck? Compared to Wanda’s cinnamon and citrus scent. Janine’s overwhelming heat scent disgusts you. You gag and turn away.
“What the fuck, Rivera?” You open your locker and snatches a bottle from the box and hold it out to her. “At least do something about your scent! It’s making me want to vomit!” Janine growls and tries to grab you again but you dodge her. She faceplants into the ground and everyone gasps. You give the bottle to her friend and you get a piece of paper from your notebook. You write the references and give it to Nina as Janine groans and some of her goons help her stand. You sigh as she glares at you.
“T-thanks.” Nina manages to get out before running away. Janine growls and you roll your eyes.
“Want to get raped on the street? Used by asshole Alphas that have nothing better to do than prey on Omegas like you? Omegas who like to flaunt that they’re in heat and therefore can’t stop their primal instincts?” She stops and you get the bottle from her friend. You hold it out and she stares at it. “If no, then take this and spray it on yourself. I swear to god, your scent is overwhelming.”
“Rumlow wi-“
“You sure?” You cross your arms and sigh. You take her hand and put the bottle on it. “Spray it if you’re not. Trust me.” You turn and hold Wanda’s hand and you both leave as everyone just stares at you. You yawn again as you get to your first class.
-
Lunch comes and Wanda was waiting for you by the courtyard. You try to greet her but she glares at you.
“Why did you help her?” You raise an eyebrow… is she jealous? And who? You tilt your head and she scoffs.
“Who?”
“Janine.” Ah. Your bully. The one who tried to ruin your life on several occasions but never succeeded.
“Ah.” You shrug. “I meant what I said. Omegas should get help when they’re in need.”
“She-“ You hug her and smile as her scent and yours combine and hit your nose. You like this combination. You rub her back in comfort and she clings to you. You hum and carry her to the bench. You kiss her forehead and sit besides her. You take her hand and kiss it.
“Wanda. I won’t ever stop even if a person did bad things to me. Omegas deserve to be treasured. It’s unfair that they’re the only ones who get heat. That you suffer for it. So even if Janine did bully me doesn’t mean I won’t help her.” She sighs and hugs you. You rub her back.
“Why are you so nice?” You chuckle.
“I’m not nice… just.” You pull away and you get the lunch you brought for the both of you. “Let’s eat?” She knows you’re avoiding the question but shrugs it off. You’ll tell her when the time comes.
-
You’re in your final class and just like yesterday, Angel sat besides you.
“And so the project for our midterms will be in pairs.” You can hear several groans but you and Angel stay quiet. “Y/LN and Garcia.” You both turn to the professor. “You can both do it so-“
“No.” You both reject the idea and shake your heads. The professor sighs but relents.
“Okay. Dismissed.” You gather your things and Angel waits up. You stand and look at her as she holds her hand out.
“Partners?” You and Angel are the top students of this class, no doubt, so it seemed cheating to the others if your partnered up… But she’s the only one willing to pair up with you so accept it. Everyone else is either an Alpha or Omega and you’re the only Beta in this class… in Any AP class, for that matter. You take her hand and shake it.
“Deal.”
“Baby.” Natasha calls out and you both turn to her. You both go outside. Angel hugs Natasha as you get your phone out.
“Put in your number so we-“ Before you could finish, Natasha has already pushed Angel behind her and is growling at you. You raise an eyebrow and Angel can’t decide if your stupid or brave… or both… tired can be there too. It’s a known fact throughout the school that you don’t mess with any of the Avengers because of their families and each other.
“BACK OFF.” Natasha’s voice can be heard by everyone and they all stop and stare as you sigh. This is one of the things that you hate. Having attention when it’s not at all needed. You try to look at Angel but Natasha pushes her away from your line of sight.
“Romanoff, this is for our big project.” You try to reason, she still is an Alpha and you would probably break several… many bones if she did attack you. Your eye twitch as she doesn’t move. “The one where at least a quarter of our grade rides on?” She’s still growling and you groan. You couldn’t stop yourself as you cursed. “FOR FUCK’S SAKE!” No one has ever heard you shout before. Not the angry one, at least. Not even your siblings or parents did. You avoided being angry because you knew it would make the worst of yourself to come. They all flinch and Natasha gulps. Angel holds Natasha’s hand and gets to her side. “I’m not stealing Angel! She’s all yours!” You run a hand through your hair. You turn away and take deep breaths to calm yourself down. Angel pulls Natasha away and approaches you.
“Y/N.” You turn to Angel with a glare but she doesn’t get fazed and she holds out her hand. “Your phone.” You give it to her and she quickly saves her number. “Text me.” You nod and she leaves with Natasha. You sigh as you leave for the library. Everyone else disperses but with more murmurs.
Wanda spots you as you enter the library. Thankfully, with no Angel around but you seem tense. You sigh as you sit beside her.
“Are you-“ She didn’t even get to finish before you cling to her arm. You breathe in her scent and you already feel calmer. You smile as you let her presence wash over you.
“Sorry. Need to calm down.” Wanda nods and you relax as you breathe her in. After a few more minutes you pull away and sigh.
“What happened?” You groan as you put your arms on the table and lean on it.
“Natasha got jealous because I was getting Angel’s number.” Wanda tenses and you flick her forehead. “Because of a project. Don’t get jealous too.”
“Oh. What did you do?”
“Got angry and yelled.” She raises an eyebrow and closes her book.
“And?” She’s curious now.
“It’s not something I usually do.” You answer simply and look away. It was something you didn’t like talking about and Wanda picked up on it.
“Ah. Are you okay now?” You nod and smile at her.
“Thank you, Wanda.” She smiles and kisses your hand.
“You’re welcome.”
-
You hum as you get inside your house. You would stay up all night reading but you remember you made plans for tomorrow.
“You seem in a good mood.” You turn and see… both Valerie and Alsie eating with your parents. The hell are they doing here? On a Friday, no less? The hell is going on?
“Al? What?”
“Came to visit, sis. Hey.” Alsie waves at you and you nod.
“And Val?”
“Came back too. I kinda forgot something.” You sigh as you realize.
“You know.” They all flinch and look away from you. You run a hand through your hair. “How?” They all look at Valerie who groans.
“I was going to pick you up so we can follow Ma and Mom on the fancy restaurant when that girl asked… no demanded.”
“Her name is Wanda. And yes, we’re going on a date tomorrow.” Alsie cheers and you shake your head. You go to your room to change. You get down and you see that all of them are looking at you so you tell them all about her.
How she’s the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. How her scent and presence can calm you right down. How she’s a reader like you. How you can talk to her about everything.
“When are we going to meet her?” Alsie asks and you choke on your dinner. Val chuckles and Zale glares at her as Dahlia helps you.
“Why?”
“Because? First friend and possibly girlfriend. Maybe even soulmate.”
“How do you know?” You ask and Alsie raises an eyebrow at your question.
“Know what?”
“That a person is your soulmate?” Valerie groans and Zale smacks her in the head. Alsie smiles at you.
“Simply put, sex.” Zale shakes Alsie while Dahlia looks murderous. Alsie is trying to calm Zale down while Valerie is holding in her laughter.
“She is right.” Dahlia sighs. “When two people have sex, do you know of knotting?” You nod as you finish your food.
“When an Alpha cums inside of an Omega or a Beta. Their penis gets larger and would need at least half an hour or an hour to get it back to normal before they can take it out.”
“How about marks?”
“When a person bites their partner’s neck during sex.”
“Yep. There are two kinds of marks. A mate mark and a soulmate mark. And even though only one person bites the neck. The two will have it at the same time.”
“A mate mark is smaller and would only stay for either a day or a week. It’s kind of a brand.”
“Like this.” Valerie shows hers and you hum.
“Is that from that girl?”
“Yep.” Zale sighs and Valerie sweats as she looks away.
“A soulmate mark is a permanent one.” Zale takes off her shirt. A bigger and clearer mark is on her chest and you gulp. “Like this, Your Ma gave it to me.”
“While you were making me?” Zale glares at Alsie who raises her hands.
“It appeared during our first time. It never disappeared.”
“And also, every mark is the same if it’s the first time between two people, only time would tell if they are soulmates or not.”
“So… if Wanda ever marks me… or if I even have the courage to ask her to do it with me then if it doesn’t disappear means-“
“She’s your soulmate.” You groan.
“I can’t ask her to do that! I don’t want to!”
“And that’s totally fine!”
“Are you an ace?” You glance at Valerie who is serious and you sigh.
“No. I don’t think so… but isn’t it too early for us… we haven’t even-“
“Feelings is a good indicator as well.”
“Yep. I just felt like the world stopped when I first saw Venus it was amazing.” Alsie smiles and you reciprocate it. She just looked so in love and happy. “She was just so beautiful then she smiled and I felt my heart burst. That was when I knew I had to chase her.”
“Chase?”
“Something an Alpha does whenever they find someone attractive.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep. Venus thought I was annoying but decided to give me a chance.” You chuckle and Alsie ruffles your hair. You grunt as she grins at you.
“Good luck tomorrow sis.” You sigh. Good luck indeed.
-
You put on your clothes for the date and hum as you get ready. You get your phone and the flowers you bought earlier that day.
“Looking good, Y/N.” Alsie says in approval when you got down.
“Thanks.” You look at the time and go to the door. “Bye, sis!”
“Yep. Bye!” You wave goodbye before leaving and closing the door.
-
You arrived at the spot 10 minutes earlier than the agreed time but she was already there and wearing your jacket.
“You’re early.” You grin as you approach her. She sees the bouquet in your hand and her heart beats faster. You smile and hold it out. “For you.” She takes it and smiles as she smells it.
“Thanks.” You hold out your hand and she takes it.
“You ready?” She nods with a smile.
-
It was a standard date. Movies, in which you both watched a new released rom-com. Then a dinner inside a diner that was your personal favorite to go to. You’ve decided to walk her home.
“Did you enjoy our date?” You ask nervously and Wanda laughs. You stop and she grins at you. “I’m serious.”
“You’re seriously dense.” She says and moves closer to you.
“I want to know.” She hums and grabs your jacket.
“I seriously enjoyed it.” She pulls you closer and you hum.
“Out of 10?” She laughs and pushes you away while you grin. Her laugh is one of the most beautiful sounds you’ve ever heard.
“Seriously?” You shrug and she rolls her eyes.
“100.”
“Oh.”
“Just spending time with you can equivalent to 10 and you showing me your favorite places is just icing on the cake.” You take her hand and kiss it.
“Good.” Before you both knew it, you were both standing in front of her house.
“This is me.” You hum and look at the house.
“Pretty big house.” She laughs and you smile.
“I hope we do this again?” She asks and you nod.
“I sure hope so.” You let go of her hand and kiss her on the cheek. “I like spending time with you.” She pouts and before you know it, she pulls you by your jacket and kisses you. After your initial shock, you kiss her back. She tastes like the chocolate milkshake and omelet that you both ate earlier. You pull away slightly and she smiles.
“You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting to do that.” Your heart who was beating faster than usual feels like it’s in a race. One where you chase her.
“Good. I would love to do it again.” You kiss her again but you both pull away as Pietro calls her name. You look up and Pietro waves from his room.
“Hey, Y/N!” You wave at him back.
“Hey, Pietro.” He laughs.
“Wanda, was it a nice date?” You both blush at his question and Wanda groans.
“Pietro! Get inside!” He laughs but complies. She sighs and turns to you. “Sorry about him. He ju-“ You cut her off with a kiss. You grin as you pull away.
“Good night, Wanda. I’m looking forward to that next date.” She nods as you turn and walk away.
“Nice one, sis.” Wanda turns and Pietro was at their porch.
“Shut up, Pietro.” She grumbles and gets inside. She takes off your jacket and goes to her room. She smiles as she touches her lips. God, you were such a good kisser. And your hand… felt so right against hers. Her phone pings and she checks it.
You: How does Wednesday sound?
She laughs and replies before changing. She can’t wait to see you again on Monday.
-
As soon as you open the door, your family was up and front in your face. They were all asking different questions but only one thing was on your mind… Wanda. Okay, two things, how annoying your family is.
“Guys! Stop!” You say loudly and they all stop. They look at each other and chuckle. They were just so excited to see you go on a date. The day you knew that you were a Beta, you kinda swore to them that you won’t let anything or anyone get in the way of your grades… They didn’t knew back then that you were going to be a loner or you would not be socializing but Wanda changed that.
“Sorry, little one.” Zale ruffles your hair and smiles. “We just got excited.”
“And happy.” Dahlia hugs you and you hug your mother back. Everyone joins in and you can’t help the smile on your face.
“Thank you.” For being my family, for loving me and for accepting me. You didn’t voice the rest but hoped you could let them feel your gratitude.
-
A/N:
I just searched up the Eternals.... and I already got a fic idea. Damn. I'm now wondering if I could do it for Natasha... or Wanda.
I haven't even finished this sequel and yet my head is full of ideas.
Thank you for Reading!
217 notes · View notes
hyunjilicious · 3 years
Text
body shots [bucky barnes]
A/n: I word vomited this in 20 minutes and I fucking need this in my life. This is literally just a college AU with minimal plot + shy!innocent!bucky with a twist
Summary: you’re the popular girl and Bucky is the nerd no one talks to. What happens when you finally confess you have a crush on him? 2.1k
Warnings: ok, I always try to not describe the reader at all, but in order for the things in this fic to be able to happen, the reader has to have boobs that aren’t... you know... non-existent like mine lol. Language, alcohol and I think that’s it?
-
Tumblr media
“Come on” you giggled, your tormenting gaze consuming the whole of Bucky’s being. He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, eyes awkwardly avoiding yours, in a pathetic attempt to get himself out of his situation. You followed his gaze, looking over the sea of people, but nothing caught your eye. You turned to him, frustration curling your brows, “Please, Bucky”
“No” he whined, throwing his head to the side as the softest of smiles danced at the corner of his lips. Deep down, judging by his pink cheeks and glossy eyes, you knew he wanted to let loose. It was probably the surroundings that inhibited him, that kept him tied to the corner of the room, one red cup of beer in his hand. “I’m not-” he cringed, gesturing towards the tens of already inebriated young adults around the two of you, “I can’t. I’m not one of you guys”
“You can be” you giggled seductively, grabbing his hand into yours. He stiffened against your touch but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he watched you closely, his perfectly innocent blue eyes curiously watching yours, looking for confirmation. Were you really hitting on him? He was oblivious to the moon and back, but even so, your intentions were a bit too obvious.
He contemplated it for a second. You raised your eyebrows, sending him a wordless question and he actually thought about it for a minute, his mouth popping open before he regained himself. Bucky shook his head, chuckling with embarrassment, “Are you making fun of me?”
Your heart broke. “No” you squeezed his hand tighter into yours, “Of course I’m not” you added, Although your tone was somewhat stern, your voice almost cracked as you failed to hide just how much his question hurt. “Why would you think that? Bucky, if I ever did anything-”
“No” he cut you off. Your sudden change in attitude worried him, and now his words drowned in guilt. “You never did anything wrong. I’m sorry.”
“What is it?” you questioned, dragging him by his hand to a nearby table. You put your own glass down, and turned to him, “Tell me”
“It’s nothing” Bucky shook his head, silently laughing as he stared at your shoes.
“Why don’t you want to dance with us?”
“I don’t like dancing,” he shrugged.
“See?” you smiled, wrapping both your hands around his. “If you had told me that from the beginning I would have dropped it. But you told me you don’t think you’re one of us. What does that mean? And you asked me if I’m making fun of you. I would never, Bucky”
Despite the speakers blasting music loud enough to make the windows shake, silence settled between the two of you. You awaited his answer, softly rubbing your thumb across his knuckles. 
“I feel stupid” he shook his head, “I don’t even know what I’m doing at this party. No one wants me here anyway”
“I want you here”
“You’re just saying that because you’re a nice person”
“I’m not nice enough to go around and make sure everyone feels welcome”
“Then why are you here with me?” he scoffed.
“Because I like you?” you hesitated despite it being the truth, and felt your ears burst into flames. In some way, you felt a deep pain in the depths of your chest as you spoke the words, but as soon as they left your mouth, you actually felt relieved. “I liked you for some time, but I had no idea how to approach you, so I thought maybe you’d want to dance with me.”
There was nothing but confusion on his features. His eyes studied yours, looking for the lie. He gawked and all but gasped when you maintained the eye contact and sent him a sweet, reassuring smile. “You like me?” Bucky asked, “Why?”
“Don’t be like that” you frowned, “You’re amazing”
“You don’t know me”
“But I want to”
He bitterly chuckled, the disbelief in his tone sounding almost condescending. “No, you don’t”
“Listen” you said, “If it’s really dancing that you don’t like, we can do something else. We can, I don’t know, talk, do shots? Race down the street or sit down on the porch and roll the joints for these dumbasses. But if it’s me that you don’t like, tell me and I’ll go now and won’t bug you again”
“You’re not bugging me,” Bucky said, his voice barely audible.
“Really?” you beamed almost not able to believe your ears, “Do you wanna-”
“Let’s, um” he laughed, “Let’s dance.”
You weren’t going to object - it was what you came to this shitty party for anyway. Keeping your hand tightly secured around his, you dragged him through the room, searching for a darker corner of the dance floor. You knew he was already somewhat uncomfortable and didn’t want to make everything worse by having him end up in the middle of a mosh pit or something worse.
“Hey there!” Clint’s voice reached your ears. You stopped dead in your tracks and cursed under your breath before turning to face him.
Bucky looked confused and cornered while Clint was as smug as ever.
“This is a party, not a nerd fest, Y/n. The fuck’s he doing here?”
Nostrils flaring, you swallowed your anger and stared him down as you wrapped an arm around Bucky’s frame, “Why are you such an asshole?”
“It’s ok” Bucky tried to butt in.
“No, it’s not” you objected.
“How come the princess of this campus is the one with the balls in this relationship?”
Feeling Bucky tense, you took a deep breath, and decided to ignore the erroneous assumption. “He’s just too polite to sink to your level. But I’m not. So beat it, Clint.”
He pretended to turn around and leave, but stopped and faced you one more time, his expression hazardous. “I just wanna know. Were you his first kiss?”
You all but lunged at him to slap his cheek. And you would have done it had Bucky not stopped you at the last moment. 
“Wow!” Clint exclaimed, and turned to Bucky. “How the fuck did you land that piece of ass?” he asked, nodding towards you, “You can even hold you ground”
Bucky scoffed, and shifted his weight from one leg to the other. He looked around the room, slightly amused as you waited for his reaction. “I can very much hold my ground.”
“Prove it,” Clint taunted. “Prove you’re not a pussy”
“God” you rolled your eyes, but he continued.
“You two. Body shots” Clint commanded, eager to see Bucky chicken out.
“Oh, jesus christ!” you scoffed, “What are you, 14?”
Just when Clint was about to laugh and claim the win, Bucky nonchalantly accepted the challenge. “Sure”
“Bucky-” you turned to him, “We don’t have to do this, who cares what Clint has to-”
“You don’t wanna do it?” Bucky asked, looking down at you, his eyes cold and determined, nothing like they were before. He smiled lewdly, a smile that hid a lot. The hairs on your body stood up, yet you agreed through a simple nod.
Much to Clint’s surprise, Bucky led you to the bar, his grip strong around your waist as he guided you across the room. “Who goes first?”
“I don’t… I don’t care” you mumbled, amazed and still in shock following his sudden change of attitude.
“Come on” Bucky smiled, and fisted the back of his collar, elegantly pulling his sweater over his head. He handed it to you, and for a second you wondered why he was wearing both a sweater and a shirt, but this thought was wiped from your mind, literally obliterated, blown to pieces, fucking erased when your eyes landed on his naked top half. 
The music had been turned down, everyone around you watching carefully. Girls who otherwise would have never looked in his direction gawked and giggled to one another, unable to look away from him. And frankly, neither could you. From his chiseled and defined abs, to his tan chest and the unearthly, bloodcurdling scars that littered his frame, you found yourself struggling to function properly. Who was this guy?
Bucky sat on the bar, a slice of lemon in between his fingers. “Where do you want it?” he asked, waving the salt around.
“Wherever you want it, Bucky!” you shook your head, enthusiastically smiling from ear to ear, “You got it”
“It’s your turn to choose” he urged you.
“Fine” you grinned, “Lean back”
With a side smirk, he laid down on the bar, his chest and abdomen on full display for you and everyone else in the room. You moved to stand by his side, your left hand on his massive thigh as you peppered salt in on the dips in his abdomen. His whole frame rose with every breath he took, and by the second, your need for him grew stronger.
Bucky placed his warm hand on your hip. “Whenever you’re ready”
“Oh, I’m ready all right” you giggled, grabbing your shot.
Before slipping the lemon slice between his teeth, Bucky sent you a wink, and you pussy didn’t fail to respond in an instant. All eyes were on you, whispers and gossip all over, but you drowned them out as you leaned down and licked your way up his body. His abdominal muscles clenched under your tongue, yet somehow off his skin, the salt tasted sweet. You downed the tequila and moved towards his face, your teeth gently grabbing onto the lemon slice as your heart beat out of your chest. And of course he didn’t let go too easily. 
Close to bursting into nervous laughter, you opened your eyes, finding his blue ones menacingly staring at you. You were ready to pull away without that damned slice in order to just breathe, but then he unclenched his jaw. You exhaled with relief, his lips brushing against yours before you managed to stand up.
And when you did, you felt disheveled. The amount of tension that tortured your mind during these seconds compared to nothing you had ever experienced before. Every part of your body burned and you sucked on that poor lemon slice for too fucking long in order to pull yourself back together. 
“Your turn” Bucky teased, sitting up. You met his eyes and chuckled. “You don’t have to take your shirt off if you don’t want to,” he announced but you rolled our eyes and scoffed.
“Yeah, right”
After ushering Bucky off the bar, you watched him dress himself back up. When he was ready, you took his spot and salaciously grinned at him as you pulled your top over your head, your breasts inches away from his hungry eyes.
“Lean on your elbows, doll” he said, and you almost burst into flames at the pet name.
You did as told and lowered yourself back.
Tens of people watched you, yet the only eyes you cared about were Bucky’s. He stared at you as if he was going to eat you alive, and frankly, at this point, you were willing to beg for it.
“Take this” he said, placing another slice of lemon between your teeth, before grabbing the salt and pouring a healthy amount across your breasts.
As he lowered himself over your body, you heaved in anticipation, your chest nearing his face with every tortured breath you took. And when it happened, it felt like pure electricity attacked your body. His devilish tongue brushed against your skin, around the curve of your tits, his breath hot and wet as a smile was visible at the corners of his mouth.
You continued to watch him as he straightened his back to take the shot, and almost choked on the slice between your teeth when he leaned down again. He didn’t hold back, his lips crashing against yours, the aggravation of his movement making the lemon juice drip down your chin. And this could’ve gone so much differently, but he had a task. Bucky ripped the slice away from your teeth, pulling away as he munched on it.
You were lost. Completely and utterly in pure awe with this man. In a matter of minutes he went from a cute nerd you were soft for, to a sculptured man who you were fucking weak for. And judging by his proud expression, he knew it.
“Ok, ok, fine, fuck it” Clint called, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts. “I fucking take everything back. Though you, Buck-” he added, “Could fucking ditch the dweb attire and maybe… I don’t know, stop being fucking weird., cause man-” he whistled, looking Buck up and down before turning around and leaving without another word.
“Oh my god” you laughed, and so did Bucky.
You wanted to stand up, but he was quicker, grabbing your waist and helping you to your feet. “Got some shit I need to tell you about me” he confessed, his voice low, right against your ear.
“No shit” you scoffed, slapping his chest.
“Your place or mine?”
“Whichever is closer”
627 notes · View notes