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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

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Always You | JJK (Nine-pt1) (Final)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 13.6k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (!!!), mentions of sex, protected sex, jealous!oc, sensual touching, dry humping, oral (female rec.) face riding

Notes: The end is finally here! But no worries I will most likely do drabbles for you guys:) Thank you SO much for reading this story and sending so many loving comments. Enjoy this last chapter of ‘Always You’ and feel free to send me an ask to chat about the story, I LOVE talking with ya’ll!

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @hsneptune @betysotelo18 @aclowe13 @bishuthot @271101 @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @bunnyjeonjk @surfacesanity @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch @not-your-lion @flowersgirl02 @justinetingball @fiantomartell @fairysunooo @taebae19 @hardcarrykookie @fancycollectormoon

Previous ---Next

~~~~~~~~~

December

Jungkook stares into his bathroom mirror and sees and feels nothing, absolutely nothing. He looks into his eyes and see nothing behind them. He tries to smile, but falls short. Does this have anything to do with the fact he told you he loves you but you completely misunderstood him? Yup, it probably has everything to do with that.

But Jungkook also feels like shit. He let his feelings become too overwhelming in the moment that he totally and completely forgot he has a girlfriend. So, he is almost glad that you most definitely thought he was just telling you he loves you like one normal friend to another instead of him confessing his deep and passionate feelings towards you. Yup, totally glad.

So, now he looks into the mirror and actually does see and feel something: Shame. Guilt.

And regret. Regret is written all over his face. Not regret because he told you he loves you, no. Regret that he didn’t tell you 4 years ago how he feels. Even if you didn’t feel the same he thinks he should have had the courage, instead he slept with you like a fucking idiot. But that is something he can’t get himself to regret at all…he just can’t regret that amazing night he shared with you.

“Bro! You have been in there for like ever dude, I gotta take a piss!” Jungkook hears Nick from the other side of the door, his insistent banging going completely ignored by Jungkook.

“Seriously man, I will pee in the fucking sink!” Nick threatens and Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah man, I’m coming.” He looks into the mirror one last time before taking one deep breath and turning towards the bathroom door.

“Bathroom’s all yours.” Jungkook says as he opens the door with Nick already pushing past him.

“Fucking finally!” Nick doesn’t even bother to shut the door behind him as he quickly approaches the toilet to release himself.

Jungkook walks into his room and pulls out his phone as he sits on the edge of his bed. He goes through his message threads, his fingers hovering over your name when he gets to you.

It’s been a few weeks since the trip to your parent’s house. He had such an amazing time. That Saturday your mom cooked one of her famous homemade meals…something Jungkook hasn’t really had in years. Your dad would casually slip in the word ‘son’ in conversation, making Jungkook’s heart glow. You laughed and talked and cried and just looked so at home the entire time, like all your worries were vanishing.

He knows you’re struggling with what to do…but going abroad? Were you serious? You mentioned it to your parents too while there visiting and they loved the idea…making Jungkook’s heart sink. They just encouraged you more while you were there…telling you it was such a fun, and great idea and that it totally suits you. This only made you feel more motivated…Jungkook could see that.

Jungkook wants nothing but the best for you…he just wants you to be happy. Your happiness is his happiness but how could he survive if you left? How could he go a day without seeing you? Or worse…a week? A month? A whole fucking year? He went three months without you and he spiraled pretty bad.

Jungkook continues to sit here, his fingers right over your name and he clicks it.

Jungkook 8:14pm

I have a cold beer with your name on it

y/n 8:21pm

:( I cant hang tonight, sorry boo…im hanging with yoongs and tae. You can come by if youd like to?

Jungkook 8:22pm

No no its okay, you have fun :))

Jungkook brings his phone to his chest, right over his beating heart and he sighs out in frustration. Why can’t everything just be easy? Why is everything so complicated?

~~~~~~~

“And I will be the youngest curator they’ve ever had at this museum!” Tae finishes proudly, cheering his wine glass with yours and Yoongi’s.

“That’s so amazing Tae.” You bring your glass back to your mouth and take a gulp in his honor.

“Proud of you, kid.” Yoongi smiles fondly at Taehyung and you can’t help but also feel very proud. Taehyung got offered the main curator position at the museum of art downtown and you three are at the record shops cozy corner celebrating.

“Anything else new going on?” Taehyung asks, he eyes both you and Yoongi. “Like, any new love interests? Job offers? Juicy drama? Literally anything.”

“Nothing from me.” You laugh, you and Taehyung look over at Yoongi who is sipping his wine with the biggest blush painted on his cheeks.

“Yoongi?” you pry. “Did something new happen with you?”

“Well…I wouldn’t really call it news.” He begins shyly, “But I maybe met someone.”

You and Taehyung share a look of shock and excitement.

“Wait dude, you mean like a romantic interest?” Taehyung asks, setting his glass down on the table.

“Yeah, like you have a crush on someone?” You smile at Yoongi and his blush deepens.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he admits, “But they’re really nice and have been coming in the store every week and we sort of just end up talking…and they asked for my number—”

“This is definitely a romantic interest!” Taehyung basically shouts. “Did you give it?”

“Yes…” Yoongi takes another sip of his wine, his eyes sliding to the side. “Did I mention they’re cute?”

“You in fact, did not mention that.” You say with a grin. “I’m happy for you Yoongs.”

“I think I’ll ask them out, what do you guys think?” Yoongi whispers.

“I think that’s a great idea man!” Taehyung basically shouts again and you laugh.

“I think I really admire you for going for it…” You sigh. You wish you had that kind of courage.

“You know…” Yoongi sets his wine glass down, and turns in his seat to face you, “It takes a lot of bravery to open up to someone…it takes a lot of strength to admit when you’re wrong and to admit when things aren’t going right. It takes real courage to open your heart to someone like, romantically. You’re like, the coolest human being in the world if you can do those things.” Yoongi folds his hands out in front of him, he bites his lip as he thinks.

“y/n…you don’t have to be some sort of super human.”

You tilt your head in confusion…you thought Yoongi was going to a place where he tells you to go for it too.

“You shouldn’t always be the one doing things. Others need to form the courage too. You’re worth it. You’re worth that risk…that you may not feel the same. Trust me, I would know.” He chuckles light heartedly. “I think he will come around.”

“I don’t know about that.” Taehyung cuts in. “I want to believe he will but…” Taehyung looks over at you with pity. “…He’s…” Taehyung doesn’t know what to say without spilling anything so he decides to let the words die on his tongue.

“To be honest with you guys…” You reach for your glass of wine and chug back the remainder of what’s in the glass rather quickly before slamming it back down on the table.

“New Year’s Eve.” You say. “Four years ago. Something happened. Something major, he…”

“Four years ago, New Year’s Eve?” Taehyung scrunches his brows together as he tilts his head. “Wait something happened between you two?” you only nod your head at Taehyung’s question.

“Did Jungkook say what he wanted to say?” Taehyung asks with big eyes, completely shocked, this is news to him. But now it’s your turn to tilt your head in confusion.

“Say what he wants to say? What are you talking about?”

“Huh? Uh,” Taehyung guesses it’s not what he’s thinking. “It’s nothing. So what happened?”

“We slept together.” You blurt out quickly, giving yourself no time to regret it.

You hear Yoongi chuckle from beside you and you snap your head in his direction.

“What? What’s so funny?” you ask.

“You thought I didn’t already assume that? That you two haven’t already slept together?”

“Damn,” you say, “Observant as usual.”

“WAIT WHAT?” Taehyung sputters out, quite fucking loudly.

You guess Taehyung isn’t as observant.

“We got kind of drunk, kissed at midnight and went back to his dorm and you know…”

Realization hits Taehyung hard. When Jungkook was pissed about the fact Taehyung slept with you it wasn’t just because he was some heroic friend. It was also because Jungkook has already had you and he knows he doesn’t like to share. Fuck.

“Holy fuck, y/n.” Taehyung closes his eyes for a moment, “Wait, and you guys didn’t talk about it after? Didn’t he have something to tell you perhaps?”

“What are you talking about? He totally brushed it off. So I got bitter and didn’t talk to him for a month. Now we just…I don’t know, we just…I feel like we are more than friends but less than lovers.”

“Makes total sense.” Yoongi adds, “You two are that but more than anything you two are complete and total idiots.” “Well, that we can agree on.” Taehyung grins.

~~~~~~

It’s the middle of December meaning it’s time to do your Christmas shopping! You, Trina and Holly are at the mall perusing around and trying to find the perfect gifts.

“Let’s do what we always do y/n.” Trina bumps her elbow into your side, with a smile on her face.

“Couldn’t agree more.” You respond.

“And what do you two always do?” Holly asks, feeling a little left out.

“Oh you know, we agree to no presents.” You say, “One less person to stress over, that’s our gift to each other.”

“Wow.” Holly deadpans, “You guys are so lame.”

“Or are we geniuses?” Trina asks with a grin, she walks closer to Holly and links arms with her, “But don’t worry Hol, I am getting you something.”

“Good.” Holly says, a shy smile making its way on her face.

“Me too!” you say trying to include yourself. “What would you like anyway? Just show me and I’ll buy it for you!”

“That takes out all the fun in gift giving.” Holly pouts, “It’s supposed to be a surprise!”

“Ah, fuck.” Trina spits out, “I suck at gift giving. Just tell us what you want.” She whines.

“No!” Holly laughs. “Look, I’ll be back.” She gestures towards her left, “I gotta use the bathroom.” She waves at you and Trina and walks away.

“Dude what am I going to get Holly?” Trina asks you, her frustration as clear as day. “It’s got to be special.” She adds in shyly. Special? Now’s your time to finally ask her what is up with her and Holly.

“Why special?”

“Oh you know.” Trina’s sheepish grin gives her away. “I don’t got to say it, when you know.”

“Fair enough.” You laugh. “Oh!” you point towards the window of one of the stores to your right, “You see those mugs? Let’s go check them out.”

“What why?”

“Christmas gift.” You say simply.

You both walk towards the glass window and eye the mugs, there’s a whole bunch but there’s a mug with music notes all over it and you’re reminded of the record shop and your two friends. You walk inside and grab three of them. Yes, three matching mugs for you, Yoongi and Taehyung. Even though Taehyung doesn’t drink coffee, he can still put whatever beverage he wants inside.

You pay for the mugs and have them wrapped in Christmas paper! You got some of your first gifts done with! Now you need to find something for Jimin, Jungkook, Holly and your parents. Crap, should you get something for the rest of the boys too? You’ll be seeing them on New year’s…maybe you’ll get them all scarves. That’s easy.

Jimin is easy, you know he’s been eyeing this channel necklace for far too long and you happen to be able to afford it for him. Jungkook isn’t easy at all. So you go with something simple, a new pair of chunky black boots that he’s been talking about for months. Your mom gets a necklace with her birth flower and your dad gets tickets to his favorite sports team…cheap tickets, sorry to your dad. Holly loves penguins so you find a cute penguin pin for her purse, you think she will love it.

Shopping takes almost the whole day, you, Trina and Holly are seated in the malls food court sipping on a smoothie.

“I am so freaking tired.” Holly leans her head on Trina’s shoulder as she speaks.

“Me too, girl, me too.” You respond. “But Christmas is soon!”

“Are you guys excited about going home?” you ask.

“Yeah, my parents promised they would take me ice skating like when I was a kid.” Trina chuckles.

“I’m excited too! What about you y/n?” Holly lifts her head from Trina. “What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Going home, of course. I’m bringing Jungkook with me.” You admit with a soft smile, “My mom and dad love him, they practically beg me every week on the phone that I bring him.”

“You guys are such a couple.” Trina rolls her eyes playfully.

“We’re best friends! He doesn’t have parents to spend it with so he’s coming with me, is that such a crime?” you say lightly.

“No, no. Of course not.” Trina rolls her eyes again. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you guys get together during your trip.”

“Need I remind you he has a girlfriend?”

~~~~~~~~

Jungkook slides his dick in and out of Vanessa as she clenches around him, he holds her body up as he fucks her from behind. He’s been at it for a while but…

“I’m going to come!” She moans out, “Please tell me you’re close!”

“I—I” Jungkook tries fucking her faster and harder as she comes undone. But Jungkook is still trying, he’s fucking struggling. He screws his eyes shut and thrusts into Vanessa at a fast and hard rate but nothing is working.

“Sorry…sorry.” Jungkook begins to slow down, “I can’t. I just can’t” He admits, totally defeated. He’s tired. He eventually comes to a stop, and pulls out.

“I’m sorry Vanessa.” He says quietly, “It’s not you, I promise.” His voice is hoarse.

Vanessa stands and walks to the bathroom to clean herself up, when she returns she sees Jungkook sitting on the edge of the bed with his pants back on.

“It’s okay, Jungkookie.” Vanessa’s smooth voice doesn’t waver as she speaks, “It happens.”

Jungkook runs his hands down his tired face before looking up at Vanessa, his eyes slightly watery.

“This isn’t fair for you, I should be able to fucking come.” He grits out. “At the fucking least.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“How are you so calm about this? Hm?”

Vanessa sits on the edge of the bed next to Jungkook, she breathes in and out before raising her head to speak to him.

“He wants to get back together with me, you know.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at her words. She couldn’t be talking about her ex, could she?

“Vanessa—”

“It’s okay. I said I no. Somehow I feel okay.” She smiles at him, it isn’t one of those coy or secretive smiles she mostly hands out but a real genuine smile.

“I think I just feel good that he wants me again but now I have the upper hand, you know? I’m the one with power.”

“You told him no?”

“And not even because I am supposed to be your girlfriend…but because I decided I need to respect myself. You’re right…what I was doing…it wasn’t healthy.” She admits, she shakes her head to rid herself of her bangs that keep falling in her eyes.

“I…I’m proud of you.”

“I want to be proud of you too.” She whispers.

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” she says quietly, “You’ll see eventually.”

“What does that me—”

“Let’s take a small break.” Vanessa tilts her head to get a quick look at him, “Just until New Year’s.”

“Vanessa—”

“We just need some time to like, miss each other? You know?”

Jungkook shakes his head, “You mean, break up?”

“Just a break. But technically yes, we aren’t together in the meantime.”

“Why?” Jungkook stands up, “We can make this work Vanessa.”

“Please stop.” Vanessa says more sternly. “It’s what I want. Just until New Year’s.”

Jungkook paces back and forth with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He doesn’t understand why she wants this? Because he couldn’t come? All because of that? He stops pacing to stare at her and she’s already looking up at him with a sickingly sweet smile.

“Fine.” He says. “If that’s—that’s what you want.” He clears his throat and tries smiling for her, she all but nods her head.

~~~~~~~

“You ready?” you ask Jungkook when he walks up to your car. You came to pick him up, insisting that you drive this time.

“Yeah.” Jungkook shows you his bunny grin and you melt, you love that smile of his. He sets his bag in the backseat and walks over to the passenger door and sits down inside.

“I’m excited to spend Christmas with you and your family.”

“Oh, it’s going to be a handful. You’ll be meeting my grandma, some aunts and uncles and some cousins of mine.”

“And I cannot wait.” He repeats. “Do you have my Christmas present here in the car?” he smiles cheekily, “Just give it to me now.”

“Yeah, right. You have to wait until tomorrow dummy!”

“Hey, don’t call me a dummy.” Jungkook pouts. He leans back in the passenger’s seat and closes his eyes.

“Hey, you’re not thinking of taking a nap are you?” You reverse your car out of the parking spot at his apartment.

“Maybe.” Jungkook snickers from beside you, “If you don’t want me falling asleep, tell me something interesting.”

“I think I want to work on getting a TEFL.” You blurt out, “To you know, teach.”

Jungkook’s eyes stay shut as he processes your words, he thinks to himself carefully—he can’t react negatively. He can’t.

“That’s nice, y/n.” He settles for. “You’ll like it.”

“That’s it?” you twist your head to look in his direction, he opens his eyes and stares at you for a few moments.

“Eyes on the road.” Jungkook closes his eyes again.

“Jungkook…you aren’t sad I might be moving away for like, at least a year?” You grip the steering wheel tighter, “You know I would be leaving right?”

“What do you want me to say y/n?” Jungkook opens his eyes and leans forward, “Want me to tell you no? That you aren’t allowed to leave?”

“Well…no. But you could act like you care a little.” You whisper out in pout.

“I do care.” Jungkook huffs, “But I just want you to do whatever makes you happy.”

“You make me happy.”

Jungkook quirks a brow and smiles, “So, you want to do me?”

“Gross,” you reach over and hit his arm. “You know what I mean. I just…I mean I value your opinion.”

Jungkook’s smile begins to fade as he stares at the cars floorboard. He zones out for a few moments, not entirely sure what to say. While it is true he wants you to do whatever makes you happy he also doesn’t want you to go anywhere.

“Do what’s best for you baby.” He all but whispers. “I will believe in you and support you no matter what.”

“I guess I’ll take that for now.” You whine. “How’s work going for you?”

“It’s good.” Jungkook’s eyes light up, “The director is letting me edit some pretty important scenes.” He gushes. “I brought my work stuff so I can show you over the next couple of days.”

“Yeah? That sounds exciting Jungkook!”

You finally merge on the high way for your few hour trip, you got your ‘Chillin’ playlist on and a few snacks on hand. You and Jungkook chit chat every so often but you mostly jam to the music.

“Let’s listen to Disney radio station!” You hand Jungkook your phone, “Hurry, put it.”

Jungkook takes your phone with a grin and selects the Disney option on pandora, the first song to come on is Lion King’s ‘Hakuna Matata’. You and Jungkook sing your hearts out, smiling, giggling and belting out the notes.

A couple hours pass like this, your throat getting admittedly sore. But Jungkook on the other hand is still going strong, he is singing all the parts in ‘Kiss the Girl’ with such passion…you can’t help but chuckle as you listen to him.

“Phew, I am worn out!” you say, laughing. “But I see you can keep going?” you turn the volume down.

“Oh, we can switch it up…but to answer the question you know I can keep going.” He winks. And you know he meant that innocently but you can’t help but blush.

“Right.” You hand him your phone again, “Our trip is almost over…you can just put on a playlist.”

“Are you excited to see your parents again?”

“Well, I just saw them last month…but yes.” You admit, “Being home is always nice. My parents have been bothering me for weeks making sure you are actually coming with me for Christmas.” You chuckle, “They’ll be glad to see you.”

Jungkook grabs a hold of his ears in excitement, you can tell he’s genuinely happy as he sits here and smiles that smile.

“I’m glad to see them too. And I am excited to meet more of your family.”

“There will probably be misunderstandings…but don’t worry, I will make it clear we are just friends.” You nod your head as you speak. Jungkook just shrugs in response, just fucking shrugs.

“Isn’t that your house up there on the corner?” Jungkook points forward towards the house.

“Yup.”

When you pull into the driveway your parents are making their way outside, they smile at you and you wave from inside your car. You turn it off and turn to face Jungkook.

“You ready?”

“Yes.” He grins.

You step out of your car and your mom and dad are rushing to bring you in for a hug, they hold you close and you feel yourself feeling right at home. You begin to pull away and head towards the backseat when your mom grabs your arm,

“You two can get your things later—before bed, before bed.” She guides you towards the house, “And hello, Jungkook.” She smiles widely, “So nice you are here again! Let’s go see everyone!”

“Yes mam.” Jungkook says with a small smile, he walks forward and shakes hands with your dad.

“Nice to see you again, son.”

“Yes sir, you too.”

“Stop being so formal!” you look back at him, teasing. You and your mom walk to the front door, waiting for your dad and Jungkook to catch up.

The four of you enter the house, it smells like pie and cookies and warmth and you know, like Christmas. You hear the chitter chatter of your relatives filling the house and you want to smile. You can hear your cousins gossiping in the kitchen, you hear their children playing in the backyard (The back door is open), you hear your grandma snoring on your dads recliner, while your aunt and uncle quietly talk on the other sofas. You hear what it’s like to feel at home.

“Look who is here, everyone!” Your mom announces obnoxiously. “It’s y/n and Jungkook!”

First your aunt and uncle’s attention are caught, they nod your way with smiles on their faces and you head over to the sofas to hug them each. Your grandma stays snoring on the recliner and you giggle, classic grandma.

Next, your cousins are coming in from kitchen. Three of them to be exact, Daniel and his wife Larissa and your other cousin who is your age Manny. Daniel and Larissa have 3 beautiful children who are playing in the back, you can hear their giggles from inside. Manny is much shorter than you, she’s petite and curvy and really, really pretty. You go in to hug her first, she wraps her arms around you loosely.

“y/n!” she yells excitedly, “It’s been since last Christmas right?!” she asks, still holding on to you.

“Something like that.” You giggle, “Hi Daniel, Larissa.” You go in to hug them as well.

“Guys this is Jungkook.” You finally introduce the awkward boy, he stands here swaying from side to side waiting to meet everyone. He bows his head in greeting and everyone says their hello’s. All except sleeping grandma.

“Well, hello.” Manny smiles at Jungkook, “I didn’t even see you there, which is crazy because you’re like crazy hot—”

“Okay, Manny.” You try cutting in early enough, but are a bit late.

“Oh?” Jungkook eyebrows climb to up his forehead as he looks at Manny.

“I’m Manny.” She winks, “ You must be y/n’s friend, I presume?”

“Uh…”

“y/n!!!!” Your grandma comes up to you all, her sweet perfume filling the air around you. “You’re here, sweetie.”

“Grandma!” you lean in and hug her frail body, she smells like she always has your whole entire life, sweet.

“And this must be your boyfriend, Jungkook? I have heard so much about you, dear.” Your grandmas opens her arms, signaling Jungkook to lean in and hug her—which he does.

“Actually grandma—”

“You finally have a nice boyfriend, your parents have told me all about him.” she winks, “I am so happy for you sweetie, I think I can finally rest easy.”

“Rest easy?” you question, “No grandma you are mis—”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Jungkook smiles at your grandma and she cheeses hard.

“You can call me grandma, dear.” She pats his back lovingly, “I want to hear all about you two. Shall we drink some tea together?”

“Boyfriend?” Manny asks, confused. “I didn’t know you guys started dating?”

“We aren’t—”

“Its new.” Jungkook cuts in. He slides his arm around your waist and you audibly gasp.

“What’s new?” Your mom walks up to you all.

“They’re dating.” Manny says, looking unimpressed.

“WHAT! Darling, get in here!” She calls your dad over, “Jungkook and y/n are together, together!”

“No we are—” you try cutting in but you feel Jungkook dig his fingers into your waist.

“THEY’RE TOGETHER?!” Your dad yells out, his excitement clear as day. You stand here confused as hell as your whole family starts congratulating you two.

“Wait, wait.” You try getting out but Jungkook leans in to whisper in your ear.

“We can’t disappoint grandma.” He says softly.

~~~~~~

“I met my Roy at a party too.” Your grandma says between sips, she holds her tea in front of her face as she reminisces.

“Was it love at first sight?” Your grandma asks, wiggling her brows. “Me and my Roy didn’t get together for quite some time so I don’t think it was love at first sight for us…when did you know?”

“Grandma…” you begin, “Can we talk about something else?” you beg.

“I knew only a few months later.” Jungkook admits shyly, he smiles at your grandma while bringing his tea cup to his lips. “I knew no one could take y/n’s spot. But I was content with being friends.”

Your eyes grow in size, his confession warming you up. You know it’s all for show but you can’t help what it does to you.

“I also knew after a few months.” You say quietly.

“Oh, how lovely!” Your grandma claps her hands together softly, “And now here you are! Jungkook…” Your grandma sets down her tea cup and looks over at Jungkook. “I trust you will take care of y/n no matter what, right?”

“No matter what.” He says quickly. “She takes care of me too.”

“And how does she do that?” Your grandma raises a drawn on brow.

“She is always there for me…she always tries to understand me even when I am in the wrong…she always tries to get to know me like she doesn’t already know everything,” he chuckles, “She always hugs me when I need it.” Jungkook looks at you with a soft smile, “She really loves me and I can feel it.” Then his mouth falls open and his eyes expand a little, “Do you… love me y/n? Like—”

“Okay, that’s enough about us babe,” you cut him off, “When did you get in town grandma?”

“Oh, just last night.” She mumbles, “I—”

“So,” Manny comes into the kitchen, her v neck lower than it was 20 minutes ago, you can’t help but roll your eyes. “What do you do Jungkook?” she leans down into his space, one hand squeezing his bicep as she asks her question.

“Um, I work as an editor for a film company.” His eyes shift to you and you roll your eyes again. “What about you?”

“Oh? Me? I work at a marketing firm. Was hoping to see y/n there.” She smiles at you. “But guess she didn’t apply? Maybe?”

“I didn’t get hired.” You state plainly. “But I didn’t want to work there anyway.” You grip your thigh in annoyance.

“y/n is probably too good for that company anyway.” Jungkook says, his hand reaches for yours and you relax a little bit.

“Right.” Manny nods her head exaggeratedly, “That’s got to be it…” she winks at you and you give a half ass smile.

“So Jungkook…” she finally takes a seat next to him, her hand still on his arm. “Film, huh? That’s soo cool. What do you do in your spare time?” she squeezes his bicep again, “Besides working out, of course.” She laughs.

Jungkook looks at you in panic, his eyes shifting from yours to his arm and you just roll your eyes.

“Manny.” You cut in, “How’s Luis?”

“Oh, we broke up.” She says smiling at Jungkook. “Nothing to worry about it.”

“And what’s to worry about,” you lean over and detach her fingers from Jungkook’s arm. “Hm?”

“Oh nothing.” Manny shakes her head.

“Manny, did you ever take my things out of the drier?” Your grandma speaks up, “Please put them in my room if you haven’t already.”

“Speaking of rooms.” Your mom and dad walk into the kitchen, their hands joined together.

“What?” you ask.

“Grandma is in Jungkook’s room. So Jungkook will have to stay in your room with you.” She says nonchalantly.

“Hm? Okay.” You shrug while Jungkook’s eyes widen just slightly. “Where are aunt and uncle sleeping? And Daniel and the rest? “Oh, we got a hotel.” Manny says, “Which sucks because it would have been fun to have a little slumber party.” She says in pout. You give her a tight smile and nod.

“Sure.” You get out, “Guess it’s just me and Jungkook for the slumber party.” You wink at her and Jungkook laughs as he squeezes your hand.

“Can’t wait baby.”

“Oh, you guys are gross.” Manny gags, “We get it.”

“Yeah, behave.” Your mom gives you a pointed look, “You’re still in your parent’s house.”

“Sorry, sorry. We’re just messing around.” You wave your hand, “Also, I can get your things from the drier grandma, I am going upstairs anyway to change.”

“Thank you sweetie.”

You let go of Jungkook’s hand as you stand up, he looks up at you in panic. You’re leaving him here with Manny?! He’s not stupid, this girl is clearly not caring about the whole boyfriend thing but he doesn’t want to make a scene by saying something to her.

“I’ll go with you.” Jungkook rushes to say earning strange looks from your parents. “Be—because I should bring up our bags from the car.”

“Ah, yes! That’s true, that’s true.” Your mom nods her head in agreeance, “You two go.”

Upstairs is much quieter, Jungkook thinks to himself. Just the background noise of muffled voices and occasional laughter. You two are in your childhood bedroom with both of your bags on your small bed. You are digging through your own luggage when you hear Jungkook clear his voice.

“What’s up?” you don’t look up to see him, you continue digging into your bag for some sleep shorts and a t shirt.

“This bed is tiny.” Jungkook groans, “How are we going to sleep on it?”

“I suppose one of us could make a palette on the flo—”

“—No.” Jungkook shakes his head, “I just mean, you’ll have to sleep super close to me.”

“That doesn’t bother me. Does it bother you suddenly?” you grab the small shorts from your bag and set them on the bed.

“W-What? No…” he admits shyly, his teeth on full display at he smiles at his own bag. “I was just saying.”

“Will Vanessa not like it?” you whisper as you find the t shirt. “Because—”

“Actually we—”

“—ask her?”

“No, it’s fine. Trust me.” Jungkook brings out his own change of clothes and stands here awkwardly, not knowing where to go.

“I do trust you.” You breathe out, “We can just turn around and change.” You offer, already spinning on your heels and lifting your sweater over your head. Jungkook continues to stare at you until he’s hit with realization. He quickly turns around and starts changing as well.

“You sure let Manny touch you however she pleases.” You spit out quietly. Jungkook freezes mid shirt lift, his eyes growing in panic.

“It’s not that I was letting her…I just…I didn’t know what to do…I’m sorry—”

“Yeah, I know.” You roll your eyes even though he cannot see. “I’m just—it’s my fault. Me and Manny grew up together. The boy she liked in high school liked me…and ever since then she’s always…” you wiggle into your sleep shorts, slipping the material over your ass.

“Oh, I get it.” Jungkook slips on a new t shirt, “I’m done. Are you?”

“Yeah, I am.”

You both turn around, smiling sheepishly at one another. He’s wearing black sweats with a plain white t shirt and you in your sleep shorts you always use to wear around the apartment that use to drive Jungkook wild and one of his black t shirts.

“Hey, that’s mine.” He pouts, pointing at the shirt you’re wearing.

“Mine now.” You poke your tongue out. Jungkook pretends to reach over the bed to grab your tongue which makes you laugh.

“Don’t let Manny touch you again.” You blurt out, “I don’t like it.”

Jungkook bites down on his bottom lip as he stares at you, he begins walking to the other side of the bed until he’s standing in front of you.

“Why don’t you like it?” he asks softly.

“It’s annoying to look at it.”

“It irritates you to see another girl touch me?”

“It’s irritating when that girl is my cousin.”

“Why does it matter who it is specifically?” Jungkook steps closer to you, he pushes his hands in his sweat pockets.

“I don’t want you to fuck my cousin, Jungkook. Sue me.” Your straightforwardness makes Jungkook chuckle.

“I wouldn’t fuck your cousin, y/n.”

“Yeah, because you have Vanessa.” You remind him.

“Actually we—”

“—we should head back downstairs.” You try pushing past him but he catches your wrist.

“Tell me why it irritates you so much.”

“I just don’t like it, Jungkook.” You huff.

“Are you perhaps jealous?” Jungkook lowers your wrist, but he doesn’t let go.

“Why would I be jealous?” You yank your wrist from his hold and push past him, walking towards your bedroom door. “Come on.”

You basically told him you weren’t jealous but why did it have to happen that when teams were being chosen for this game night, Jungkook and Manny would get paired together.

The universe is laughing at you. Manny is…shameless. She has no problem flirting with someone else’s man…you’re no exception. You can tell Jungkook is slightly uncomfortable and not really enjoying the attention but still, somehow you are fuming. It’s not like he’s being exceptionally nice to her, he’s just not being standoffish enough to your liking.

“Oh, Jungkook!” Manny giggles for no reason, she leans into Jungkook’s space, just laughing away while sit you here and watch. He chuckles awkwardly, his hands messing with the playing cards in front of him. You hate this view. You thought any view with Jungkook would be a nice one, but you were wrong. Watching your cousin fawn over him like this is making you angry as fuck. As it should, right? Jungkook is your boyfriend! Well—not actually. But still! As far as Manny is concerned, Jungkook is your man, and she needs to back off.

“Manny, could you maybe give my boyfriend some space.” You snap, your voice cutting in through your family’s chatter. The room quiets down and all eyes are on you.

Manny looks all around the room, red creeping on her cheeks as she sits here, embarrassed. She opens her mouth to speak when you hold up a hand to stop her. Then you use that hand to gesture towards their bodies,

“He’s clearly uncomfortable that you are sitting so close, and frankly, I am too.”

“y/n…”

“And he’s too nice to say anything.” Your cold eyes look at her then they slide to Jungkook, “Which is something you need to work on babe.”

“I am not even sitting that close, jeez, you are as dramatic as ever.” Manny tries to roll her eyes, while subtlety scooting away. “And really? You try to call me out in front of everyone?”

“Oh? Should we talk in private then?”

“y/n.” this time the one saying your name is Jungkook. “Maybe we should go to sleep. Start new tomorrow, huh?” The tension between you and Manny too much for him to handle right now, especially in front of everyone.

“I think that’s a great idea.” It’s grandma. “It’s way past my bedtime too.”

“I think your aunt and uncle were just talking about how it’s almost time to leave too. Perfect timing!” Your mom chimes in, “Let’s all say goodnight.”

You don’t say anything to Jungkook as you peel back the baby pink duvet on your bed, you just stare down at your twin mattress with hard eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You continue to stay silent as you slip under the covers, scooting all the way towards the edge of the bed as far as you possibly can.

“y/n…” Jungkook pats in the last of his facial moisturizer into his skin, “I asked if you’re okay?” his back is facing you as he sits on the edge of the bed, placing his moisturizer back in his bag. “It was interesting,” (Hot.) “To see you all…protective,” (Jealous.) “Tonight.”

“I’m going to sleep.” You are laying on your back, staring up at the ceiling fan. “I don’t feel like talking tonight.”

Jungkook lays down next to you, his body so freaking close. He lays on his side, facing you. His right arm going under his head, trying his hardest to get comfortable in such close quarters.

“No talking, but maybe cuddling?” Jungkook whispers, and you of course hear it clear as day because he is so fucking close to you.

“Call me crazy but I don’t feel like cuddling with a guy who can’t even tell another girl to fuck off.” You shut your eyes. “Not in the mood.”

Jungkook blinks a few times, your words sinking in. You’re kind of right, he should of said something too but he didn’t know what to say. It’s your cousin! In front of your family! And he tried his hardest to lean away from Manny as much as possible.

“I’m sorry, y/n. You’re right. I should have said something.” His left hand reaches out to grab your hand that rests on top of your stomach.

“Yeah, you should have. But now I’m the asshole who called her out in front of everyone.”

Jungkook remembers it, and he darkly chuckles.

“Yeah, and it was hot.” He admits, making you open your eyes as you snap your head towards him.

“You think me being crazy jealous was hot?” you give him a look like he’s crazy.

“So you are jealous?” Jungkook smirks, “But I don’t see it that way. I see it as being protective over what’s yours.”

“So, you’re mine?” you turn to lean on your side, your body bumping into his. “At least until the end of this trip right?” you laugh, “I can’t believe you just don’t want to disappoint grandma.”

“At least until the end of this trip.” Jungkook leans his head closer to yours, “You finally brought home a boyfriend.” He grins as his forehead slightly bumps into yours.

What does Jungkook mean at least? And why does he always become closer and closer to you?

If you were to lift your head up at all, his lips would be dangerously close to yours.

“Jeez, how many fake boyfriends am I going to have this year?” you joke, keeping your head down, “I really got to find a real one by now.”

“I know the room is dark,” Jungkook begins, “But I still want to see your eyes when we talk.”

“Didn’t I say I didn’t want to talk?”

“y/n…” Jungkook whines, “You’re still mad at me?”

“Not really, it’s not your fault. I’m just still pissed at the situation.” You admit quite easily. “It’s honestly so disrespectful of her. You’re my boyfriend. You’re my man. You’re mine.”

Jungkook’s hand settles over your waist, he grabs on and brings you in closer to his body. He inhales you, taking in your scent. You smell so good to him, he could inhale you forever. Your words echo in his mind as he snuggles you closer. Your man? His heart races faster and faster as the echo gets louder.

“I’m yours, hm?” he runs his fingers down your side, starting from your shoulder until the top of your hip bone. “Does that make you mine?” He breathes out, “Are you mine baby?” his fingers dance over your hips, your shirt and shorts separating his fingers from touching your warm skin.

“You know what I mean.” You huff out, closing your eyes from his gentle touch.

“Do I though?” Jungkook’s hand lingers over your hips, until he is playing with the end of your shirt.

“Let me touch your skin.” He softly begs, “It’ll feel nice.”

Your eyes open in surprise, what skin? Where will he be touching?

“Innocent, I swear.” Jungkook adds, “Just want to make you feel nice.”

“Isn’t that weird?” you finally ask.

“I don’t think so.”

“Fine.” You close your eyes again, “Touch me.”

Jungkook bites his lips when you give him the green light, he wasn’t expecting you to agree so quickly. Because what if it is weird? He just wants to touch your skin, no harm done. Jungkook leans up on his arms and tugs at the bottom of your shirt,

“I am going to slide this up a bit, okay?” he asks and you nod your head but you hear him chuckle.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes.” You breathe out, your eyes still closed.

Jungkook takes the material between his fingers and begins to slowly, very slowly ride the shirt up. His eyes have finally adjusted to the dark, where he can see you just enough. The shirt slides up your body, exposing your skin inch by inch. He gulps.

He lifts the shirt up until your pretty blue bralette is showing itself, your breasts falling to the side giving you a good amount of cleavage. He gulps again.

When the shirt is all bunched up at your armpits, Jungkook lays back down on his side. The cold air that spins in circles thanks to the fan is causing your skin to get goosebumps, your stomach feeling extra sensitive.

“Touch me, Jungkook.” You softly command. “I want you to.”

Jungkook swallows hard at your straightforwardness. His hand slowly creeps up to your shoulder, his fingers brushing against the material of the t shirt before he’s lightly dragging his fingers down your side. His fingertips hit your exposed skin, he lightly glides them down, just barely touching you. When he reaches your hip bone he dances his fingers lower until they’re grazing your lower stomach. His touch is so light it’s got your breathing getting just a bit heavier. He repeats his action a few times, starting from your shoulder until his fingers glide across your bare stomach. He’s right, it does feel nice. Too nice, almost.

“How do my fingers feel?” He clears his throat, his voice nice and low. Your eyes shoot open at his question. This is all innocent, but why does that question feel so dirty?

“They feel so good.” You breathe out, “So good.”

Jungkook smiles and continues sliding his fingers over your lower stomach, causing you to release a long, shaky breath. His touch is so fucking good, his touch leaving a trail of fire. As his fingers lightly skid across your stomach he leaves behind such heat. His fingers finally glide up, they barely reach right under your breasts. Your breath catches in your throat, his fingers so dangerously close to your tits and you want to smash your head on something. God, what it would feel like to have them being touched by his large hand.

Jungkook uses just his pointer finger to drag his finger down from the center of your lower chest until he’s passing your belly button, until he’s reaching your lower stomach again, his finger stopping at the drawstrings on your shorts.

You can’t help but release a long, quiet moan as his finger does that over and over. You clench your stomach muscles with each stroke of his fingers. Why does Jungkook have to make you feel so fucking good?

Jungkook feels himself getting hard against your thigh, but he doesn’t care to hide it. Touching your warm, soft skin feels so intimate and that moan you released? His cock needs to hear more. He grabs a hold of your hip, the material of the shorts in the way of your skin.

“Can I lower these a little?” he pants out. “Just a little.”

“Yes.” You feel your breaths getting heavier.

Jungkook slips his fingers under the shorts and slowly drags down the material over your hip, your panties sliding down as well. Jungkook grunts in approval, he thumbs your hip bone causing you to quietly whimper.

“You really like your hips and stomach to be touched.” He states.

“S-Sensitive.” You admit.

Jungkook massages the skin of your hip, very, very lightly. Almost like he isn’t touching you at all, like he’s just trying to tease you. And it’s working. You feel your breaths become more erratic. You keep your eyes closed as the light feeling of his fingertips begin to make you wet. You can’t help but slightly rotate your hips in circles as he touches you, and you can’t help but moan when he puts more pressure into his massage on your hip.

“You like that?” Jungkook breathes out, “Feel good?”

Your hips move faster underneath his electric touch, you start to become desperate, needing more. You finally open your eyes, Jungkook notices how dark and captivating they look. You reach forward until your own hand is at his shirt.

“Off.”

Jungkook looks at you, very confused. But he doesn’t waste another moment when he sits up and throws his shirt off.

“Good.” Your hands go to grope his chest. His strong muscles flex beneath your touch. You drag your hands down his chest until they stop at the waistband of his sweats, he throws his head back as you explore the front of his body.

“Want to touch you too.” You admit between harsh breaths.

Jungkook’s hand goes to the shirt bunched around your shoulders and tugs on it,

“Off too.” He guides you to sit up and he helps you take off your shirt. Your strappy bralette leaves almost nothing to the imagination, Jungkook thinks. The material is so very thin that he sees your hard nipples and he wants to brush his thumb over them. But he refrains.

“Much better.” Jungkook says in one breath. “Now lay down.”

You do as he says, this time you lay on your back instead of your side. You try breathing in and out normally but can’t help how irregular your breaths are.

“Jungkook.” You whine, “Touch me.”

“So needy.” Jungkook’s hand hovers over the top of your stomach, “My baby is so needy.” He whispers.

You reach up and caress Jungkook’s cheek, “I am.” You admit. Jungkook throws his head back, biting on his lip as he grins.

“Good girl.” His fingers lightly dance below your belly button and you whine. He glides his fingers lower and lower until they’re at your waistband.

“Going to pull these down…just a little.” His voice cracks as he stares down at you.

You nod your head and tell him yes over and over.

He drags the shorts just a bit lower, right before your pussy is exposed. His fingers lightly touch your new exposed skin, and you moan. The feeling getting you so worked up.

“I want to do the same to you.” You try say between your rough breathing. “Let me touch you, Jungkook.” Your hands go to his stomach, your touch anything but light as you drag your hands down with pressure. You reach the top of his waist band and begin pulling down until he’s catching your wrist.

“And what do you think you are doing?” Jungkook’s low, deep voice sends a shiver down your god damn spine.

“Innocent, I promise.” You mock, “Want to touch you too.”

“I think we have had enough,” he teases lightly, bringing his hand back to his own body. “Let’s go to sleep.”

“Fine, cuddle me.” You say, annoyed. You turn to your other side, where your back is facing him.

“Fine by me. But…” He sinks down further into the covers to spoon you, one arm going beneath your head and the other pulling you in by the hips, “Remember what happens when we get in this position.” You feel his hard cock poke your ass and you moan out quietly.

“What happens?” you play dumb.

“4 years ago, you asked me to cuddle you like this because you wanted to get fucked.” he says easily and you choke on your spit. He’s referencing that night?

Jungkook is so lost in you, he doesn’t care anymore. He will bring up that night a million times if he has to. He loves you. And he’s starting to get real tired of the constant tension between you two. He pushes his hips into your ass, you feel how hard he is and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I also said this position makes me feel safe.” You play innocent as you bump your ass into his crotch.

“I make you feel safe?”

“You make me feel a lot of things.” You whimper, backing your ass further into his cock, it’s so hard and poking against you in such a way that drives you nuts.

Jungkook groans as he feels you circling your hips into his crotch. His hand goes to your hip and he squeezes tightly making you moan out.

“You got to be more quiet baby.” Jungkook warns softly, “We don’t want your parents or your grandmother thinking we are really having that ‘slumber party’.” He jokes.

“Then what are we having?”

“Just some innocent massages between friends.” He comments with a snicker.

“Oh? Is my ass massaging your dick so innocent?” you whine out, “I don’t really do this sort of thing with my other friends.” You keep your eyes screwed shut.

“It’s very innocent.” Jungkook teases, he begins lightly humping you. He pushes his cock further and further on your ass cheeks, he moans when you two find a rhythm. He remembers when he fucked you in this position, he remembers it well. How you sounded, how you smelled, how you felt. He memorized the feeling of you.

“Fuck, y/n…” Jungkook quietly groans out. He rocks his hips into you faster, and you hate everything. You want to touch yourself so bad. You want to slide your fingers down your shorts and rub your aching clit, you would like it even more if it was Jungkook’s fingers.

“Not fair…” you say in pout, arching your back.

“What’s not?” he pants.

“I want to feel good too…” you say, flipping to your other side, facing him. You scoot impossibly close until his cock is pressed against your lower stomach.

“Innocently, of course.” You throw a leg over his waist as your hands go to his chest to guide him to lay on his back. “Gonna make us both feel good.” Your eyes are glazed over in lust as you speak.

You straddle his hips and find the right placement in sitting down…his cock nice and snug between your clothed folds. You begin moving your hips until you have the right angle on your clit and you moan.

“Is this okay?” you breathe out and Jungkook nods his head quickly.

You begin rocking yourself against his clothed cock, he quietly whimpers at the feeling. Jungkook screws his eyes shut as his mouth falls open and wonderful panting leaves his lips. You watch him lose his composure as you hump him, you pick up the pace, becoming more and more desperate. Your clit is thanking you. ‘Thank you bitch’ it says.

“I—I can’t” Jungkook moans out, “I—I can’t do this.”

You immediately slow down, rejection sinking in. “What do you mean? You don’t want to do—”

“—I don’t want to do this with clothes on.” Jungkook groans, his fingers digging into your hips. “I need you naked. Fucking now.” He grits out.

You finally still as you process his words. Are you two about to fuck? Is this really a good idea? Again? But you are so far gone…you are so beyond horny that you are able to push your logical thinking to the side.

“Okay.” You look at him with lust filled eyes, “Take off my clothes.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen but he’s nodding his head so fucking fast it’s almost comical. He rushes to unclasp your bralette, your breasts bouncing as they are freed. He sits up, and you are graced with the sight of Jungkook’s mouth sucking on your tit. You arch your back, pushing your breast further into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the hardened nub. You throw your head back in pleasure, his hand giving your other breast all the attention it needs.

“Shorts, Jungkook.” You beg. “Take them off me.”

Jungkook detaches his self from your breast and looks up into your eyes and smirks,

“Say please, princess.”

“Fucking please, please.”

Jungkook’s hands quickly find their way to your shorts and your rise to your knees to help him slip them off your legs. Your panties go down with the shorts and Jungkook couldn’t be more pleased.

“Oh my god baby.” Jungkook stares at you with dark eyes, “Your wetness is literally dripping down your inner thighs. You are so fucking wet.” He comments and you smile shyly.

“You…” you begin to say.

“What about me?” he teases, his fingers grazing your inner thigh, he wipes some of your cum off your sensitive skin.

“You did this to me.”

“Yes I did baby. And I will take full responsibility.” He guides your body up his own, you follow his lead.

“Ride my face.” He commands as he lays back down, his hand in yours still guiding you when you stop abruptly.

“W—What?”

“Ride my face baby.” He tugs on your hand and you hesitantly make your way closer to him. You stop when you are hovering over his chest, knees on either side of his neck when you start to get shy.

“I’ve never…”

“Keep going,” his hands go to your hips and he’s guiding you further up until your pussy is hovering over his warm mouth.

“Now sit.”

“Jungkook—”

“I said, sit.”

And you do, you lower yourself over his mouth…you slam your eyes shut, feeling nervous. But then you are met with his wet, warm tongue. You stay still as he begins licking at you, his tongue licking a strip from your hole to your clit. You start to relax as the sensation fills you up, his tongue swirling around causing you to release a long, breathy moan. You can’t help but start to rock your hips back and forth…the feeling even more spectacular. You try to keep quiet, you really do. But Jungkook’s tongue is quite literally fucking you.

“Ah, Jungkook.” You throw your head back, your eyes rolling all around as you ride his face faster. You feel Jungkook moan into your pussy, making you whimper even more.

You don’t know how much time has passed but it does not matter. Jungkook shows no sign of stopping anytime soon, his tongue working to make you feel so fucking good. You ride his face even harder now, your thighs shaking as you squeeze around his head.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You pant out, “I think I’m going to—”

You rock your hips as fast as you can as you feel your orgasm approaching, Jungkook’s hands squeeze your ass cheeks. He encourages you to rock against him even harder as he guides your hips. His tongue is laid flat against your clit as you ride him faster, you can feel how close you are. You thighs shake and you feel your pussy clench around nothing as your orgasm hits you. It hits you so fucking hard, like a strong wind that’s knocked you over.

“Fuuuuuucckkk.” You squeeze your thighs together, probably crushing Jungkook’s head as you come. You breathe so fucking hard as you try to hurry to come down from your amazing orgasm, you struggle to rise to your knees, so Jungkook helps lift you a bit until you are rising from his mouth.

You inch backwards until you are hovering over his chest, when he makes you sit down. You open your eyes, and take a look at the man before you.

His entire face is glistening with your cum and he looks so fucking happy about it. He’s trying to catch his own breath as he eyes you, his entire face wet with your cum. He is fucking grinning at you.

“You did so amazing baby.” He breathes out.

“That was incredible.” You admit. “Want to…” you start off hesitantly, “Want to fuck my mouth?”

Jungkook slams his eyes shut, and takes a few deep breaths before he slowly opens his eyes again.

“No…We should get cleaned up and go to sleep. Don’t you think?” he asks softly.

“Go…to sleep?” you ask, disappointed. “Sure.” You say kind of detached. “If that’s what you want.”

~~~~~~

Shame. Guilt. Regret.

It’s the next morning and you are trying your hardest to sleep away from Jungkook. But the bed is so small making it almost impossible. You didn’t sleep at all. Which feels unfair because Jungkook is next to you snoring away with a lazy arm thrown over your waist.

Shame. Guilt. Regret.

Jungkook has a girlfriend but you and him…oh my god you made Jungkook a cheater. You are the fucking worst. You let lust win in this dangerous game you two are playing, you let it win and shove it’s victory in your face. You hate yourself. You feel so fucking bad! Vanessa may not be your favorite person but cheating is never okay.

Shame. Guilt. Regret.

You wonder if Jungkook will feel these things too as he wakes up…you wonder if he will feel worse. Jungkook is a lot of things but a cheater isn’t one of them. He’s always felt strongly about the subject because of his mom and dad. Will he be weird with you? Will he feel worse than you? Will he be able to forgive himself?

Suddenly, Jungkook’s light snores go quiet and his arm is tightening around your waist just the slightest. He’s awake. He begins pulling you in closer to his body and then you feel his lips on your neck. He leaves just an innocent peck and then you think he may be going back to sleep with how comfortable he’s getting.

“Let’s get up.” You break the silence in the room, “I can hear people downstairs.”

“Oh, good morning.” You feel him smile on your neck, “Why don’t we stay here for just a few minutes?”

Has he not processed what he’s done? Where is his shame? His guilt? His regret? You feel sick.

“We really should get up.” You repeat. “I’m hungry.” You detach yourself from his body and rise from the bed. You don’t even look at him as you grab a change of clothes and exit the room to head towards the bathroom.

Jungkook is left on the bed wondering what’s up with you? Are you feeling awkward after last night? He thought you might be in a good mood…considering your orgasm…but instead your mood seems to be sour.

“Great.” Jungkook mutters underneath his breath. He gets up too, going to his bag to change for the day. When he’s done, he grabs his toiletries and makes his way to the bathroom. He stands outside the door, softly knocking. You swing the door open with your toothbrush hanging out of your mouth when you usher him inside.

“I’m going to wash up too…” Jungkook warns. He sets his small toiletry bag on the bathroom counter and takes out his face wash, moisturizer and tooth brush.

You nod your head as you continue to brush your teeth, toothpaste foaming at the corner of your mouth.

“How do you feel this morning?” Jungkook tries to make decent conversation as he applies his face wash to his face.

You spit out the toothpaste and rinse your mouth, wiping your face dry with a towel.

“Fine.” You spit out. “Just fine.”

Jungkook washes his face with water, and pats his face dry with a small towel, just nodding his head. He feels awkward.

“I feel fine too…” He adds, trying to add more to the convo. “Do you think grandma heard us last night?” he asks.

“Let’s not talk about last night.” You snap, “Can’t you read a room?”

You grab your things and leave the bathroom, leaving Jungkook wondering what the hell he did to make you so mad. Did you hate it that much? Maybe in the past he would have thought that but now…he knows how much you liked it. Loved it even. Jungkook doesn’t feel as insecure as before, he just knows the only way to solve this is to talk to you. Communication.

Communication would be a lot easier if he was given a god damn chance at talking to you but your mom is keeping you so busy in the kitchen with your gossipy aunt’s chitter chatter filling every crevice of the room. You nod along, even laugh as you listen. Jungkook is in the backyard with the three kids, keeping them entertained as you, Manny, Larissa, your aunt and mom bake in the kitchen with grandma sipping her tea at the table. Your dad, uncle and Daniel are in the living room watching some show, clanking their beer bottles together in celebration. Today is Christmas eve. Apparently this is when your family does most of the major celebrating, you guys bake and cook all day, eat a grand dinner and open presents. And Christmas day you just eat leftovers and chill.

The youngest kid has grown quite fond of Jungkook, she tends to feel left out by her two older brothers. Jungkook plays with her and she has already formed an attachment making your cousin in law laugh at them fondly.

“Your boyfriend is great with kids! Lucky you.” Larissa winks at you as she rolls the cookie dough on the counter.

“Yeah, yeah.” You say plainly.

“y/n…what’s wrong?” Manny comes up to your side, “Trouble in paradise?”

“No, Manny.” You snap. “But I bet you would like that.”

“Girls, let’s not fight.” Your aunt cuts in while your mom just looks at you worried.

“I would hardly call it a fight.” You hear your grandmas sweet voice over everyone else’s. “Now how are those drop cookies coming along girls?”

“They’re coming.” You say. “If Manny ever finishes with the dry ingredients.”

“I told you I was almost done, chill out.”

“Girls.” Your mom warns, “y/n, why don’t you go keep Jungkook company?”

Your eyes go from your moms to outside where Jungkook is and you panic.

“No, it’s okay…he’s fine.”

“You know what?” Your grandma speaks up, “I think I will if you won’t.” She sweetly chuckles. She stands from her place at the table, grabs her tea cup and makes her way to the outside table instead, closing the backyard door behind her.

“Hi dear.” Your grandma nods towards Jungkook as he plays pirates with the boys. He is laughing and pretending to have a hook hand, while the boys giggle and run around. The youngest claims she is the lost princess and that Jungkook has to save her. Grandma watches with joy, loving how well he gets along with the children.

“Hi.” Jungkook says out of breath from playing. He tells the kids to keep playing and that he will return shortly, they beg and whined that he stay but he says if they keep playing he will steal them some of the first cookies. The kids nod their head aggressively in agreement.

“How are you this afternoon?” he takes a seat across from her.

“Why is my granddaughter mad at you?” She smiles at Jungkook and his face drains of all color.

“Um…what do you mean?”

“Anyone with eyes knows you two have been strange all morning and afternoon.” Your grandma brings her tea to her mouth, “Maybe Manny was right, there is trouble in paradise.” She smiles again, “The key is to talk to her. Find out what’s going on.”

Jungkook groans, throwing his head into his hands. He lifts his head up again to speak but decides to just groan again in frustration.

“She won’t give me a chance to speak to her.” He admits. “She’s avoiding me.”

“Make the chance happen.” Grandma advices, “You’re a good kid, Jungkook. Even though you decided to lie to poor old me.”

“Lie?”

“You think I really couldn’t tell that you’re not really dating my granddaughter? I’ve been around too long to get fooled by something like that. But I see your feelings are real. So are hers. So why aren’t you two together?”

Jungkook sits here, absolutely stunned silent. He doesn’t know how to respond! Grandma begins sipping on her tea again when she lowers it to speak.

“Go talk to her honey. I want to see my grandbaby happy.”

“I guess we don’t have to pretend anymore.” Jungkook finally speaks.

“No, no. Keep going, it is quite entertaining, dear.” Your grandma chuckles, “Plus, it keeps Manny on her toes. Best if she thinks you are taken. Once she finds out that you are single…I fear for your life, boy.” Your grandma laughs out loud, making Jungkook join her.

“Fair enough.” He says, “But how do I…how do I get her to talk to me?”

“I’m sure you know her better than I do.” Grandma points out, “You’ll figure out what works best for her.”

And your grandma is right, he does know you best. But what will work? When you have avoided things in the past he has usually been the one to force answers out of you. Now is no different.

All the baking for the day is complete, you sit down at the table in the kitchen and let your head fall to the table top. You moan out in satisfaction that you all are finally done…how unfair that the guys got to just chill all day? Your mom has been cooking with your aunt for Christmas dinner while you and your cousins worked on pies and cookies. And they sat and drank beer. Typical.

“Hey.” You feel Jungkook’s warm breath hit your ear and you look up at him, his face so close to yours as he is leaned down to speak to you.

“Can we talk?”

“Nothing to talk about.” You lay your head back down on the table until you feel your arm being pulled upwards, causing you to stand to your feet.

“Don’t be a brat. Let’s go.” Jungkook pulls you up, and starts pulling you in the direction of the staircase.

“Let go of me.” She say weakly, “I can walk myself.”

Jungkook let’s go of your arm and instead reaches for your hand, he interlocks his fingers with yours and you roll your eyes.

“I said, I can walk myself.”

Jungkook only shakes his head in response, guiding you up the stairs until you two reach the bedroom, you both walk inside as Jungkook closes the door behind you two.

“Now talk.” He softly commands.

“Nothing to talk about?”

“y/n…” he warns and you feel your eyes start to sting.

“We fucked up, Jungkook.” You blink back the stinging in your eyes, shame, guilt, and regret joining you.

“How so?”

“What do you mean ‘How so?’” you ask incredulously. “Do you not remember the events of last night? You have a girlfriend!” you throw your hands in the air, “You are a cheater! I’m the one you cheated with…oh my god…”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at your words and he starts shaking his head. He tries walking closer to you but you only step back until your back meets the wall.

“We fucked up.” You cry out. “I’m so sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Jungkook asks softly. You are starting to wonder why this dude is not panicking.

“I made you a cheater.” You cry. Jungkook walks closer to you again until he’s wrapping his arms around your waist.

“You didn’t.” he whispers. “Vanessa and I…we aren’t together right now.”

You sniffle into his shoulder as you process his words…not together right now? What does that even mean?

“She broke up with me.” He begins to explain, “Said she wants to break up until New Year’s but I don’t think we will be getting back together.”

“Why not?” you whisper.

“I…I don’t know.”

“Oh.” You untangle yourself from Jungkook’s arms, “But you aren’t a cheater?”

“No.”

You sigh out in relief, a huge, long, heavy sigh. Thank God. You feel shame, guilt, and regret leave your body making you feel ten times lighter.

“So I have nothing to feel bad for?”

“Absolutely nothing.” Jungkook smiles at you, “Now can we go enjoy Christmas? I cannot wait to give you your present.”

You pull on your hair, feeling nervous suddenly. Is he just going to brush past this too? Are you two not going to bring up last night in more detail? Figure out what it means for you two? Are you two just friends who occasionally hook up? That’s not what you want. What do you want? “Sure.”

~~~~~

“Dinner was delicious, honey.” Your dad says reaching over to cup your moms cheek. “I think I ate way too much this year.”

“Oh sweetheart, you say that every year.” Your mom laughs, “What about everyone else? Eat enough?”

Everyone around the table groans in happiness, nodding their heads yes and complimenting the dinner.

“Well, I suppose we should get on to the presents portion of the evening?” Your mom stands from her chair, “Let’s all go into the living room around the tree.”

Everyone makes their way into the living room, you and Jungkook being the last two to make it inside. You two stand here awkwardly, not entirely too sure where to sit since it is a bit crowded. Your grandma points at you two with a cheeky smile.

“Mistletoe.” She yells out. “Mistletoe!”

You point at yourself in question and then at Jungkook. What mistletoe? Then you see Jungkook looking up and his face turning completely red. Oh.

“We really don’t—”

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” you hear your various family members chanting. Your parents grinning like fools as they chant as well. Your grandma winks at Jungkook and Jungkook goes even redder.

“We don’t have to Jungkook” you whisper. Jungkook clears his throat repeatedly until his face begins going back to his normal color.

“No, it’s tradition right?”

“I mean, I guess.” You shrug, you begin to turn red yourself.

“C’mere.” He reaches for your hand and pulls you in to his chest, then his other hand goes to cup your jaw. “Just one kiss.” He whispers.

You feel all his body heat enter your body, his touch making you so fucking warm. You nod your head pathetically as you tilt your head up. Jungkook smiles down at you and leans in just a bit, his forehead pressing against yours. Your eyes go to his lips, they are pink and his bottom lip is plump. Jungkook leans lower until his mouth is hovering over yours and he very innocently pecks your lips. You wish his kiss had lingered longer but it is short but sweet. He leans away from you, his forehead still pushed up against your own when you surge forward and kiss him again.

You hear the hollering of your cousin Daniel and his wife Larissa, Manny probably pouting. Your aunt and uncle are giggling and your parents laughing but telling you to behave. Your grandma snickers to herself and starts softly clapping her hands together.

“I thought I said just one?” Jungkook teases, his hand lowering to his side but his other hand keeps holding yours.

“I couldn’t help myself.” You admit confidently “Now let’s do presents!” you turn to face everyone else.

“Agreed!” your mom yells out excitedly. “First, we have Manny from Daniel…”

The night continues, everyone exchanging presents. Your parents loved their gifts, your mom thought the necklace was very thoughtful and your dad says he would love to take you to the game with him. You give Jungkook your gift, he yelps in excitement when he unwraps his gift when he sees the boots.

“Thanks baby, I know I haven’t shut up about these shoes for months!” he leans in to hug you. “Now it’s my turn.” He grins.

He searches the tree for the last gift of the night: Jungkook to you. He grabs the box and hands it to you, a shy smile making its way on his lips.

“Here, for you.” He sits back and waits for you to unwrap it. Your parents and the rest of your relatives wait as well.

“Okay, here I go.” You begin unwrapping the box, throwing the gift paper to the side on the floor and are met with a brown box. You raise a brow at Jungkook and he just smiles widely.

“Go on,” he says, “Open it.”

So you do. You carefully open the box and pull out a wooden box—a music box. The top of the music box is glass with a photo of you and Jungkook, your heart absolutely melts into two.

“Open it, open it.” He urges excitedly.

“Okay…”

You lift the top of the music box, revealing its insides. Your absolute favorite song in the world starts playing and you feel the waterworks coming. This song means everything to you. He knows it is your favorite.

“Read what it says…” he mentions shyly. “There’s a message.”

I will always believe in you. I will always support you. And I will always love you.

You read the message to yourself a few times over and you start sniffling, a few tears leaving your eyes. You look up to make eye contact with Jungkook and he smiles. You close the box and slip it back inside the box and set it to the side, you crawl towards Jungkook and hug him. Your arms wrap around his neck and you throw your head into his shoulder, and you start mumbling your thanks.

“Of course baby.” He whispers into your hair, “I mean it.”

“I know you do…” you murmur. “I know.” You sniffle harder. “And I love you more.”

You, yourself aren’t entirely sure how you meant the words ‘I love you’ in this moment. You are so overwhelmed and overjoyed that you aren’t sure if you said it platonically or romantically. All you know is that you meant it.

“That’s impossible.” Jungkook chuckles. You slowly leave his arms, feeling embarrassed now that you’re crying in front of everyone.

“What did it say?” Manny asks, “You didn’t even share!”

“Let’s leave it between the love birds.” Your grandma says.

“Love birds indeed.” Your mom grins, “Well, Santa comes nice and early tomorrow!” she says to the kids.

“Are you sure about leaving them here tonight?” Daniel asks, “Santa can come to the hotel too.”

“Don’t be silly,” your mom says, “I will put them to bed on the sofas. It will be fine.”

“Okay, we will see you all bright and early tomorrow morning then.” Larissa begins packing up their things.

“Heading out already?” Your dad asks, “Well, take some food with you.”

You and Jungkook stay seated on the floor, as the rest begin cleaning up. Your mom picks up all the gift wrapping paper off the floor while your dad puts away gifts and you and Jungkook sit side by side.

“Did you like your gift?” Jungkook inches closer to you.

“I love it, Jungkook.” You lean into his shoulder, resting your head on him. “It makes me so happy.”

“What about me…do I make you happy?”

“So happy.” You admit. “I hope I can make you this happy too.”

“You do.” Jungkook leans his head on top of yours. “Like, you have no idea.” He reaches for your hand and tangles his fingers with yours.

“Do you two want to head to bed? We got the cleaning covered.” Your mom offers. You yawn in response, showing her that you could use some sleep.

“Yeah, okay.” You accept gratefully, you stand up taking Jungkook with you. You two say your goodnight’s and head towards the stairs up to your bedroom.

“Goodnight you two.” Your grandma sings, sending a wink to Jungkook and he goes red again.

“Why does she keep winking at you?” You wonder out loud.

“No idea…” Jungkook is quick to respond. “Weird…”

When you and Jungkook get to your room, you both rush to get changed and wash up in the bathroom. He finishes before you, settling into the bed. You come in next, wearing your sleep shorts and a tank top. You turn the lights off and make your way to your bed, you slip inside and groan in satisfaction…ah, sleep time.

“Hey y/n…”

“Hm?” you sleepily roll over to your side to face Jungkook, “What’s up?”

“I just want to say…” he pauses and bites his lip. “Thanks. I just want to say thanks.”

“For what babe?”

“For bringing me for Christmas…this is the first time I have felt so at home in years.” He admits, “You have no idea what this means to me.”

“I’m glad you’re happy Jungkook.”

“More than happy.” He corrects. “You have no idea what you mean to me.”

“Then tell me.”

“Can I show you instead?” Jungkook leans closer to you, tilting his head at the right angle. “Can I kiss you?”

You can’t help but swallow hard, Jungkook wants to kiss you? To show you what you mean to him? That’s romantic right? You aren’t totally reading this wrong?

“Why?” you ask, gulping down your spit.

“Because.” He breathes out softly, “Please.”

You can smell the toothpaste on his breath, you can smell his laundry detergent on his clothes, you can smell the shampoo in his hair. You inhale him and hold your breath.

“If I say no?” you blink up at him and he smiles softly.

“Then I will respect that.” He answers honestly.

With your eyes still adjusting to the darkness it is hard to see his eyes but you just know they are soft and inviting.

“Jungkook…” You scoot closer to him, moving your head to be at level with his face. “Baby…” you whimper out as you lean in closer to his face.

“Is that a yes?” He asks, his breath hitting your lips. “Because—”

Your lips find his in a slow, tender kiss. You peck his lips over and over and you can feel his lips shaping into a smile. You pull away after a few seconds, feeling breathless after the short kiss.

“Goodnight Jungkook.” You scoot down until your head hits his chest and you snuggle into it.

“Goodnight baby.” Jungkook smiles, laying on his back as he stares up at the dark ceiling. How will he find sleep tonight? His heart is racing in his chest. Are you finally starting to understand his feelings? He knows he hasn’t talked about them yet…but he will. Yes, he definitely will.

#bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst

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ericspinkhair · 3 years

Text

quarantine longings

pairing: best friend!kevin x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

synopsis: you and your best friend have sex because quarantine made you horny

warnings: best friends to lovers, takes place during the pandemic, spoiler of 356 days (but not the end, just generally the plot), no use of condoms but only the pill, creampie, sexual fantasies, fingering, hand-job, sex, slight angst at the end if you squint

a/n: I would literally die for kevin, I love him so much. I'll be writing a multiple parts series about him after I'm done writing scenarios for every member first.

requests are open!

masterlist + requests

you slammed your foot hard against the wall and cursed in pain. you hopped on one foot to your bed, holding your other leg in agony and tasted blood as you bit your lip to keep the volume of your suffering groans in check. someone knocked on the door.

'are you okay?' your roommate asked concerned.

'no, leave me alone, kevin,' you croaked out. you wanted to suffer by yourself.

there was an awkward silence and then you heard him sigh. soon after, the door next to your room closed shut.

why were you so frustrated, one might ask? well, the pandemic was kicking your butt and you just couldn't take it anymore. when the news of the virus had first spread, no one thought it would become this serious. but suddenly everyone was walking around with masks and spent most of their time staying at home.

after graduating high school, you and kevin had decided to move in together for college because both of you were broke and couldn't afford to live alone. you had been best friends since middle school and had been convinced that it was a smart idea at the time.

and everything went smoothly for the first one and a half years. however, after not seeing anyone else since the start of the pandemic over a year ago, it became increasingly difficult to share an apartment, but not in the way one might assume. you were neither sick of each other nor did you fight a lot. to tell the truth, it was quite the opposite.

earlier, before you had kicked the wall in anger, the two of you had painted together. kevin was majoring in art and, since you didn't have anything better to do, you joined him while he did projects for his classes. you might have been majoring in journalism but you had always liked drawing and painting, even though you weren't particularly skilled. you were a naturally clumsy person, always tripping over air and dropping things. today you were hecticly moving around your hands while telling him about a stupid video you had seen and you accidently let go of the brush in your hand. it hit the side of kevin's face, leaving a wide splodge of red paint on his right cheek.

to get back at you, he jerked his paint brush and splattered some green color on your white shirt. you saw this as a challenge and soon both of you were both drenched in the colors of the rainbow, laughing hysterically on the floor, not caring that you were spreading the paint on the poor carpet.

you turned your heads to look at each other and you felt absolutely in peace. you loved this man and couldn't be more glad that it was him and not anyone else you were stuck with inside of this apartment.

he stood up to take off his stained shirt and your smile quickly faded off your face. your lips slightly parted and you couldn't help but stare at his now exposed biceps and abs.

your mouth watered and you felt heat pooling between your legs as you took your time to study his architecture. thoughts about how badly you wanted him to thrust into you while his strong arms held you up invaded your mind. you tried to shake them off but it was impossible.

occasions like this were slowly becoming a common occurrence for you.

having mostly stayed inside for over a year, also meant that you didn't have sex for that long. it's not like you were the horniest person on the planet but you still had needs that were being neglected. with kevin being home all the time you didn't even dare to masturbate, scared that he would be able to hear you through the frustratingly thin walls. you must have gone insane with all the lust building up inside you and that's why you suddenly craved to have sex with your best friend. this whole thing was destroying everything. it was hard to act normal when he was making you this nervous and heated but you tried to pretend that everything was fine anyway for the sake of your friendship.

that was the reason why you were angry and had hurt yourself. you hated the way you felt about your best friend and you hated the pandemic for not giving you an outlet to escape so you could recollect yourself.

what you weren't aware of was that kevin was no stranger to the exact same frustration.

he would need more than his ten fingers and ten toes to be able to count the amount of times he had to run to the bathroom to hide his boner because he had done so much as look at you bend over or stretch. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable but it was a challenge to try and calm down his hormones.

whenever he jacked off, images of you flashed through his mind; your sweet curves and pink lips drove him insane.

last week, you two were cooking together and you had asked him to get the salt. he stood behind you to reach for it on the highest shelf. he was forced to press his crotch against your butt cheeks and his dick hardened against his will. he quickly handed you the salt, excused himself and ran off before you could figure out what had happened.

he might not have known the cause of your sudden outburst but he sympathized with your fury because he had a lot of pent up anger towards covid as well.

he lay in his bed and tried to focus on the book he was reading but he couldn't tune out the groans coming from the room next to his. he cursed.

'stop it!' he was panicking as he saw a familiar tent forming in his pants. your sounds triggered some weird perverted part of his brain that sent signals right to his genitals. his dick was hardening and he saw no other solution to his problem than to give in to his subconscious desires.

he pulled down his pants just far enough so that his cock had enough room to spring out. it only needed a few strokes before it stood tall and angry. kevin pressed his head into his pillow and moved his hand fast. he wanted to get over with it quickly. he emptied his cum on his stomach while imagining your greedy little mouth being stuffed by his cock. he lay there panting as yet another round of shame flushed over him.

'get yourself together,' he whispered, mentally slapping himself.

***

'do you want to order japanese or italian?' you asked kevin. today was friday which meant it was time for your weekly tradition of ordering take out and watching a movie.

'definitely italian. we've already had japanese for the past four days. I need something else for a change,' kevin complained and shuddered at the thought of having to eat sushi again. the japanese restaurant prepared absolutely delicious food but he just couldn't stand it anymore.

you laughed at his pained facial expression. 'fine, italian it is.'

within twenty minutes the doorbell rang and after about half a minute kevin came back with two huge boxes.

he opened them on the small table situated in front of your couch and the smell of freshly cooked pasta seasoned with basil made your stomach growl.

kevin wanted to dig in already but you stopped him. you had to choose a movie first.

'let's watch tall girl. I saw everyone hate on it on tiktok,' you suggested.

'I think we should watch 365 days, that was all over my for you page as well,' kevin argued. you hadn't heard of it so you weren't sure whether it would be the right movie for you. the rule was that it had to be as bad as possible.

'according to what I have heard, it's apparently even worse than 50 shades of grey,' kevin added which piqued your interest. the both of you had watched 50 shades about two months ago and you were honestly shocked by how awful it actually was. you couldn't understand why everyone had been so obsessed with it when it was first released. if 356 days was really worse, then you'd hit the jackpot. you clapped your hands.

'fine, you win. I swear if the movie isn't as horrible as you say it is then you owe me something!' he intertwined his pinky with yours to promise.

watching horrible movies was way better than watching good ones. making fun of bad storylines, stupid characters or horrible editing was one of your favorite past times.

'I guess I'll have to add are you lost, baby girl to the top 10 worst lines ever spoken. who thought ah yes this is sexy, let's have him repeat it over and over again', you complained, shoving some pasta into your mouth.

'so he's like I won't do anything without your permission while he is literally groping her boobs against her will, like make it make sense, massimo', added kevin, ruffling his hair in frustration. he almost completely forgot about the food.

'so let me get this straight: he drugged her, kidnapped her, tied her up, hung up a painting of her just because he saw her face when his dad was shot?'

'totally relatable.' both of you giggled.

you were enjoying complaining about the plot. it was horrible.

there were plenty of erotic scenes but they were honestly so funny and kinda gross that you could bare it without really being affected by them. kevin, on the other hand, had placed a pillow over his hard-on to hide the embarrassing fact that these terrible, smutty scenes had turned him on.

and then the infamous boat scene came.

massimo and laura had a huge fight, she fell of the boat, he saved her and now she was suddenly so in love with him that she begs him to fuck her. which he does.

you felt your panties become increasingly wet as the couple had steaming hot sex.

'this is embarrassing but I'm so horny,' you admitted but in a way that should have suggested that you meant it as a joke. something about this statement stirred something in kevin.

'well, what can I say?' he replied and lifted the pillow. your pupils widened at the sight of your best friend's bulge.

his eyes darkened and he looked at you with lust clearly written on his face. you reciprocated his stare with the same intensity. you tried to focus on his dark brown orbs instead of his boner but the image you had just seen was present in your mind.

his gaze shifted to your lips and, before you knew it, kevin climbed above you and pressed your back flat onto the couch.

your lips locked and you immediately buried your hands in his hair to pull him closer. you moved in sync, his lips fitting perfectly onto yours. you bucked your hips up against his crotch and earned a moan from kevin. he opened his eyes in shock as realization hit him. he quickly pulled away and jumped off the coach.

'I'm so sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have just done that. I don't know what came over me,' he apologized profusely, staring at his feet. did he really think that you didn't want this?

'give me your hand,' you told him and held out your hand.

'why?' he raised his eyebrows in confusion. you rolled your eyes.

'just do it.'

you took his hand and led it to your crotch.

'what are you- oh my god.' your juices had completely soaked through your panties and your sweatpants. 'you are so wet.'

'for you,' you added. 'there's no need to apologize. I'm literally begging you to continue.'

you didn't have to say that twice before he pulled you closer to him by your hips and engaged you in another desperate kiss. his hands were groping your butt while you let yours slide under his hoodie. you felt his naked skin and toned abs, as you rubbed his stomach. you lowered your hands and bravely palmed his boner through his clothes.

'y/n,' he hissed out against your lips. you hooked your thumbs in the elastic of his pants and underwear, and pushed the material down to his thighs. he struggled to get them off.

you stroked his hard dick as he slipped his hand into your panties to massage your pussy at the same time.

he slipped one finger inside and began working it in and out. you finally were getting the relief you had been desperately craving for for so long. kevin was skilled and your walls were trying to swallow his slim finger. you were quickly coming close to your orgasm after having abstained for more than a year. you pulled his hand out.

'I bet you can make me come even better with your dick,' you challenged kevin.

'you bet I will.' he was confident.

'let me just look for a condom.' he was already turning away to go search in his room but you held him back by the arm.

'forget about it. I'm on the pill and I want you raw. I want you to come inside me and not spill into a stupid condom.'

the idea of this sounded very tempting to kevin. he picked you up and threw you back onto the couch, drawing your hips closer to him so he could pull off all the pieces of clothing that were hindering him from accessing your pussy.

he propped up his arms next to your sides and spread your thighs apart. strings of arousal were hanging from your folds and he saw your hole desperately clench around nothing. his dick hurt from how much he wanted to finally be inside of you. he wanted to find out how close he had been able to imagine how you would feel around him.

your hole took him in easily, welcoming him happily by embracing it tightly. kevin swore he could've cum right here and there.

he went slow at first to give you a chance to adjust but you were already fully ready, rocking your hips forward to meet his thrusts.

he crashed your mouths together and you kissed him like he was oxygen and you were short of air. you smiled and your eyes rolled back, satisfied with how things had played out today and the prospects of coming looked fairly promising.

desperate for release, kevin picked up the pace, his eyes closed while fucking into you like a horny animal. he couldn't help himself and all the 'faster's and 'harder's spilling from your mouth only encouraged him to drive himself deeper into you.

you wrapped your legs around his torso in an attempt to regain the control you were losing.

'fuck fuck fuck,' you cursed, feeling your muscles starting to contract. kevin brushed away some hair that was stuck to your sweaty forehead.

'it's fine, I'm coming too,' he announced and it took only a few more thrusts before a body shaking orgasm flushed over you, making you see only white. this drove kevin over the edge too and he spilled inside you, filling you up with his hot cum. he continued to slowly ease his dick in and out of you, fucking his semen right back into you until you had ridden out both of your orgasms. he let himself fall onto the couch right next to you, panting hard.

'I very much needed this,' you sighed in content.

'same, I wasn't sure whether I could hold out any longer without having a proper orgasm.' he watched his cum drip out of you.

'we should've thought of this sooner,' you said. 'this was a great idea.'

kevin hummed in agreement.

***

so now you and kevin were having sex on a regular basis, your high score being five times in a day. it felt good to finally live out your sexuality and not having to restrict yourself. sure, you guys did it more than necessary but it was a great way to pass time and it felt fucking amazing.

today you had done it in the shower after waking up, then on the kitchen counter and you had just finished having sex in his bed.

he was spooning you from behind, his cock still placed inside of you. he nuzzled his nose into your neck.

'stop, that tickles,' you chuckled.

'sorry.'

after a while of comfortable silence you heard him let out a big sigh.

'what's wrong?' you asked as he pulled out of you. you turned around to be able to look at him.

'I don't think I can do it like this anymore,' he confessed.

'what do you mean?' you asked. 'are you talking about us having sex?'

he nodded. your heart dropped and you started feeling dizzy. you tried to search for answers in his eyes but he avoided looking at you.

'w-why?' you stuttered, trying to hold back the tears that were welling up in your eyes.

'it was amazing at first,' he started and finally raised his head to meet your gaze, 'and I went into it without much thought. I went crazy during quarantine and began fantasizing about having sex with you. then it became reality but now I understand that was probably wrong of me. I've always thought of myself as a gentleman, yet I slept with you without much thought. you see, my issue is this…'

suspense hung in the air and you were impatiently waiting for him to get to the point.

'I like you.'

you quietly gasped in surprise. you had been expecting him to say you were bad at sex and that he regretted everything but not this.

'I shouldn't be sleeping with you unless you were my girlfriend,' he finished off his ramble. you felt immensely relieved.

'do you want me to?' you asked him.

'want you to what?' kevin was confused. he had been a hundred percent sure you'd immediately jump out of the bed in disgust when he confessed.

'be your girlfriend. after all, I like you too, you moron.' you realized that you had known this for a while. you might have even been crushing on your best friend since way before the pandemic struck but it was kind of hard to track your feelings. still, you were sure you liked him too. now that he had admitted his feelings, you were able to admit yours not only to him but to yourself as well.

'wow, I didn't expect this,' kevin confessed surprised. you laughed.

'yeah, we should've realized this sooner.' he pulled you closer and kissed you. it was different than the other times. his lips moved softly against yours, in contrast to all of your rough and passionate kisses you had exchanged these past few weeks. he conveyed his emotions through the kiss.

'you're ready again?' you groaned as you felt kevin's dick harden against your upper thigh. he chuckled.

'sorry, you just turn me on so much.'

so then you did it for the fourth time. that day, you set a new record of having sex six times. you might have been happy now but still just as horny.

#kevin moon smut #kevin moon scenario #the boyz kevin smut #the boyz kevin scenario #moon hyungseo smut #moon hyungseo scenario #the boyz kevin moon smut #the boyz kevin moon scenario #the boyz hyungseo smut #the boyz hyungseo scenario #the boyz smut #the boyz scenario #kpop smut #kpop scenarios

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ahundredtimesover · 3 years

Text

November 2020 Reads

Here are the fics I reblogged in November! Please give love to all these writers (reblog, comment!!) and of course, our lil bun jk 🐰

Again, note the angst, fluff, and smut descriptions and my “read if you want to” thing is just a guide bc it works for me and my mood swings and ok this isn’t a lot right

1. Blackjack series by @kpopfanfictrash (a, f, s) - s2l, mafia au (read if you want to “watch” a movie and have time to binge-read and are into action, good backstories, and good smut)

2. Crosshairs by @junghelioseok (a, s) - secret agent au (read if you want action and longing and just something different)

3. Freesia by @eleventoes (a, f) - bf2l, childhood friends au (read if you want something soft and pure and funny and want to imagine tiny but in-love jk)

4. Off-league by @hansolmates (f) - childhood friends au (read if you want something really sexy)

5. A song request by @n8dlesoupguk (f) - s2l, neighbors au (read if you want something soft and pure and light)

6. The love swings + The love slides by @h2yeri (f, s) - f2l, college au, childhood friends, boyfriend au, soft jk (read if you want to feel warm and fuzzy and soft and fluffy or just to feel better)

7. Let’s play: dirty by @jungkxook (f, s) - e2l, college au, roommates au, gamer jk (read if you want to laugh and be entertained and are obsessed with gamer jk)

8. Quarter life crisis by @heungtanbts (a, f, s) - bf2l, adulting (read if you want to be reflective about being an adult and at the same time want to imagine being bestfriends with extremely hot jk and really if you just want to read something good)

9. The push by @underthejoon (a, f, s) - f2l, college au (read if you want sexual tension and are into hitting idiot jk in the head)

10. Cardiovascular palpitations pt1 + pt2 by @hayjeon (a, f, s) - f2l, friends with benefits au, hospital au (read if you want some glorious smut and jealous doctor jk and just a really good fwb bc this is up there)

11. Inkling by @gguksgalaxy (a, s) - f2l, tattoo artist au (read if you want tension and some serious stuff like coming out but also want some good smut)

12. On the road (to you) by @cupofteaguk (a, f) - f2l, adulting (read if you want to reminisce about a college crush and want to imagine sweet and thoughtful jk)

13. Mirrors pt1 + pt2 by @yoonia (a, s) - friends with benefits au (read if you want steamy, sexy, glorious smut or if you just want to be turned on)

14. Oops by @honeyj00ns (s) - college au, neighbors au (read if you want to laugh, want some shower sex, and want to imagine jk singing rnb bc that is the dream)

15. Irresistible by @parkmuse (s) - bf2l, college au (read if you want to laugh and enjoy some good smut)

16. One on one by @thatmultifandomhoe (f) - college au, boxer jk (read if you want to daydream about boxer jk and want something soft)

17. The habits of a broken heart by @softykooky (a, f) - soulmate au, college au (read if you want something painfully beautiful and sort of cold and unloving jk)

18. Take my whole life too by @ktheist (s) - arranged marriage au, husband au, expecting parents au, dad jk (read if you want a different dynamic between OC and jk and sappy and in love jk and just something sooo good I love this sm)

19. Fact over fancy by @dovechim (s) - arranged marriage au with a twist (read if you want a cool premise and some bratty and smug jk)

20. Beautiful confession by @btsracket (f, s) - f2l, childhood friends, roommates au, soft jk (read if you want a romcom-type fic with fun dynamic between characters and if you want something soft and warm and really good)

21. The proposal by @hansolmates (f, s) - e2l, boss au, fake dating (read if you want top-tier film adaptation and loveable characters with such fun banter and homey vibe and boss jk doing push ups)

22. Picture perfect by @moononthejoon (f, s) - historical au, painter jk (read if you want something cute but sexy and an unpredictable ending)

23. Neighbour by @imagniation (s) - college au, neighbors au (read if you want something hot ft sexy neighbor jk and if you want to be turned on)

24. Shield by @joonsgalore (f, s) - s2l, bar au, soft jk (read if you want something soft and cute and heartwarming and straightforward but with really good smut)

25. The young wolf by @junqkook (a, s) - game of thrones au (read if you want to be absolutely ripped to shreds and/or want something so well-written but again will rip you to shreds)

26. Dynasty by @jimlingss (a, f, s) - historical au, drama (read something if you want to “watch” a movie with so much tension and glorious smut and if you want your heart to break but also want something so well-written)

27. Something in the water by @vankoya (f, s) - f2l, college au, camping (read if you want ot7 banter and humor and sexy time in the lake or to just relive college trips with friends)

28. Rebound by @ropeseok (s) - e2l, college au (read if you want something sexy and smutty or if you wanna be turned on bc wall sex)

29. A touch of silk by @war-of-hormoan (a, s) - werewolf au (read if you want tension and some human-werewolf drama)

30. Heartbreak veterans by @rookiegukie (f) - s2l, busker jk (read if you want something pure and cleansing and wholesome and soft)

31. It should be me by @you-know-bts (a) - f2l, brother’s bestfriend (read if you want protective jk to lay down his life for you and some tension)

32. Euphoria by @seokstrivia (a, f, s) - e2l, college au, roommates au (read if you want dick-but-really-softie-jk and some pain with happy ending)

33. Challenge accepted, What happens when you’re not careful, Risky business drabble series by @sincerelyourfangirl (s) - e2l, ceo au (read if you want some glorious smut)

34. If you insist + Epilogue by @ayyosuga (a, f, s) - s2l, cop au (read if you want to drool over Officer Jeon and if you want a semi-action packed but also soft and tender and well-written fic)

35. re:untitled pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4 by @to-star-lake (a, f, s) - e2l, childhood friends, arranged marriage, ceo au (read if you want your heart to hurt and heal and if you want a god-tier fic with perfect and so well-written chapters and characterizations and plot and if you want to cry without any death, and enjoy really good smut)

36. Cozy thief by @bratkook (f, s) - f2l, roommates au (read if you want something soft with good smut)

37. Somnolent by @forgottenpasta (f) - roommates au (read if you want something soft and cute and a hot and bothered jk)

38. Behind these walls by @cupofteaguk (f) - college au (read if you want softness and banter and sexual tension)

39. 17 going on 27 by @hansolmates (a, f) - exes au, adulting, time jump (read if you want another very well-written film adaptation that will hurt soooo good and an experience in itself that will leave you all hurting but soft and happy at the end)

40. The philosophy of good luck by @kidguk (f, s) - s2l, roommates au, tattoo artist jk (read if you want something adorably soft)

41. Caught me by @jeongi (s) - e2l, roommates au (read if you want glorious smut and want to be turned on)

42. Microwave (mis)adventures by @bymoonchild (a, f, s) - e2l, college au, roommates au (read if you want a classic jk fic with so much sexual tension and banter and loveable characters you want to hit in the head)

43, Threats and paybacks by @pantaemonium (s) - e2l, roommates au (read if you want cocky little shit jk and some good smut)

44. Mafia leader!kook by @jksangelic (a, s) - husband au, mafia au (read if you want a quickie angst with smut story that’s a little soft but hot and sexy at the same time)

45. Roomie code by @bluekyun (f, s) - f2l, roommate au, soft jk (read if you want bestfriend yoongi and little shit jimin and soft jk with tension and lots of things going on and softness)

46. As I told you by @eleventoes (f) - e2l, college au, roommates au, jock jk (read if you want e2l that’s actually really soft and cute)

(monthly reads masterpost)

#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut

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wisewidow · 3 years

Text

Hello, Your Parents Want Me To Have Your Babies

PAIRING: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

SUMMARY: Melina, my workplace’s neighbour, wants to set me up with her daughter.

I'd only ever hear about Natasha every couple of weeks, when her adoptive father, the mechanic that owned the garage workshop beside my father's cafe slash bar, met up with my uncle for beers one day last year. Ever since then, our families have been loosely intertwined, friendly but not too close. Alexei fixed my mom's wrecked car for a cheap price, in return I let his youngest daughter Yelena have free coffees whenever she pops over.

From what my father told me, Alexei's entire family, including his wife, were all involved in the family business of repairing cars, except for his eldest daughter: Natasha, who turned out to be an FBI agent living in Quantico. Dad says they're proud of her but they miss her.

"(Y/N)," my brother calls from the kitchen. I put down my phone and find him balancing three plates of sandwiches and a salad in his spindly arms.

He opens his mouth to explain the orders, but I cut him off.

"Alexei," I say, pointing to the bacon and egg sandwich. "A salad for Melina. The tuna and tomato roll is Yelena's. Did they want drinks?"

Peter nods. "Four coffees and a large bottle of water, they already have them."

I ruffle his hair to thank him and grab the plates, balancing the third on my forearm until I can place it on a tray. I carry it outside, years of waitressing practice keeping it balanced, and head towards the garage.

"Melina?" I call. Moments later the raven haired woman slips out of the office and smiles. She yells something in Russian that causes Yelena to slide out from under a silver BMW, covered in black grease. Alexei appears moments later wielding a spanner.

They hound me for their orders, gratefully patting my shoulder and carrying their food away to their separate stations. Yelena disappears into the shadows with her sandwich, and her father to his desk, but Melina simply brightens and says, "(Y/N), have you heard? Natalia is visiting."

"Yes!" Alexei yells around a mouthful of bread. "Family, reunion! Grandbabies!"

Melina hisses something in their mother tongue. I laugh, and then ask if Natasha was bringing her kids, though I wasn't aware she had any.

"He means nothing of it, Natalia is focused on work at the moment. Too focused, I think. No babies. No partner."

"Tell her about her penthouse!" Alexei encourages.

Melina flaps a hand at him in irritation. "Yes, well, she has broken up with Bruce, the shy scientist from work. And then Sharon, charming field operative, also from work. And now she refuses to date. Because of work."

I chuckle nervously. "Where are you going with this?"

Melina smiles innocently. "Nowhere. What happened to your last girlfriend, again? Your father mentioned something about . . ." The look in her eyes is enough to egg me on, though the subject is one I rarely speak of these days.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I say, "Carol left to travel Europe."

"Shame," she nods sympathetically. "You don't seem bothered. Are you not looking for a relationship?"

"Not actively, but I'm sure another troublemaker will find me. I don't have a good track record of steady relationships," I admit.

"Neither does Natalia!" Alexei shouts.

"Oh!" I say. "Does she want Carol's number? Or my friend Harley, she's not looking for commitment."

Yelena snickers. Alexei frowns. Melina chuckles. "No, no, Natalia needs someone she doesn't work with, and you need someone serious, and we need grandbabies before we die, since Yelena neglects it."

I flush a bright red. "Grandb— I'm— okay, first of all, neither of us have the equipment for that—"

"Neither did Dad," Yelena pipes up, referring to the fact that she and her sister were adopted.

"Hey!"

"(Y/N)!" Peter calls, rounding the corner. "Ned's coming over to pick me up, we need to finish our physics project. Uncle Ben should be here soon, can you manage the bar until he gets here?"

I jump onto the excuse and yell back affirmation, say a quick goodbye to Melina before speed-walking back to the cafe.

Peter leaves with Ned soon after, and Ben arrives at around the same time. I move to the kitchens while he takes over serving our regulars, as he's friendlier with them than me.

I work on making more sandwiches and tapas meals until four, when my shift ends. I kiss Uncle Ben on the cheek and head home.

The smell of paprikash greets me as I unlock the door to my apartment, which I guess means that my roommate is home. I call out a hello to her and head to the shower.

I groan happily as the hot water rains down on my front. I close my eyes and lean my head back, thinking over how strange the day had been, and lose myself in a trance of relaxation.

"(Y/N/N)!" Wanda barges in. I jump and almost slip grabbing the shower curtain to cover my body as I peek out at her.

"I'm naked," I hiss.

She ignores me and holds up two clothes hangers. "Pantsuit or dress?"

I push my wet hair out of my face. "Uh, are you bar-hopping with Vision or going to a family dinner?"

"Get together with some friends," she explains. "Vis, Sam, Steve and some guy named Bucky who I'm informed we're supposed to be pretending Steve isn't in love with, do you know him?"

"Nope."

"Okay, well, he's bringing some friends, so I'm bringing you. Don't make that face, you know almost everyone."

"I don't feel like getting drunk," I complain.

"Good! You can be the designated driver. Pantsuit or dress?"

Grumbling, I tell her, "Dress."

"Okay, thanks, you wear the pantsuit, be ready by seven. May the Force be with you!"

She ducks as I throw my shampoo bottle at her. We bicker and mock and tease as I pat myself dry and she changes into the scarlet dress. While she braids her hair, I carefully slip into the navy and white striped pantsuit, and we move into her bedroom to make use of her vanity, since the sun's lowering position in the sky shone straight into the window while my room would be encased in dimness by now. I sit in the chair and she leans over me, brushing her eyelashes with delicate mascara. We fall into our normal going-out-getting-ready rhythm, periodically handing each other different brushes, comparing lipstick shades, and commenting on our days. She tells me about her brother's latest shenanigans and I make the grave mistake of commenting on Melina's attempted set-up earlier today, much to Wanda's entertainment. The two had never met but they both shared the pure ecstasy that came with matchmaking involving me.

"Do you think she's pretty?" Wanda wonders.

"I've seen photos," I shrug. "She's a redhead. Yelena says she changes hairstyles often."

"That doesn't answer my question! Pretty redhead or no?"

"They were baby photos, Wanda! I didn't have an opinion on her looks past the Wonder Woman pajamas."

She hums, and turns to draw a small heart under my left eye with her gel liner pen. "It would be nice if you wound up with her, but if you do fall madly in love with her beautiful red locks and decide to move to Washington to marry her and have her babies, I will murder you. You pay your rent on time and you're fun and please, please do not make me move back in with my brother."

"Why does everyone keep bringing up babies?" I yell.

An hour later we're pulling up to the bar in the back of a cab arguing about getting a cat. The debate of whose bathroom would host the litter tray is interrupted by Wanda spotting Vision through the window and quickly smacking my arm and hissing at me to hurry up and pay so she can sneak in and scare him. Unfortunately, I can't locate my purse inside my bag.

"(Y/N), (Y/N), go, go, go . . ."

"Wanda, Wanda, going, going, going . . . Aha!" I pay the driver and find myself being ushered inside before I can put my purse back in my bag.

Sam, a friend of Wanda's from college, ends up foiling her evil master plan by pointing her out as soon as she walks in the door. Vision, being a good sport, pretends to be startled when she yells "BOO!" in his ear. As she cackles manically before sliding into the chair beside him, I notice the only free space is by the pretty blonde woman beside a man with brown hair pulled into a bun.

"Oh, look who I dragged out with me!" Wanda exclaims, taking a sip of Vision's drink and making a grand gesture with her hands. "(Y/N)!"

I'm greeted with a chorus of hello's. I bow and grin as I sit by the woman and offer a polite smile. Steve leans over points to the brunet man. "This is Bucky, we were close as friends. As kids. We were close as friends, when we were kids."

Sam snorts into his beer.

Steve clears his throat awkwardly. "And this is his partner from work, Nat."

I get a closer inspection and my eyes widen in shock. "Natalia?"

"Her name is Natasha." Steve corrects.

"I thought her name was Natalie?" Vision frowns.

"She goes by Nat, who cares?" Sam shrugs.

"Natalia Alianovna Romanova?" Wanda yelps. "(Y/N)! You didn't tell me this was the Natalia!"

"The what? I— Do I know you two?" Natasha asks, bewildered.

"Not me!" Wanda says, and then makes a motion for zipping her lips shut.

Everyone turns to me. I chuckle nervously. "I should probably explain. Hi, I'm (Y/N), your parents want me to have your babies."

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff fluff

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byunbaekby · 4 years

Text

title — a clouded fate pairing — badboy!mark lee x female reader featuring — lucas wong/wong yukhei, johnny seo, lee taeyong, nakamoto yuta (mentioned), lee donghyuck (mentioned) word count — 17.2k overall warnings — extreme drug use, drug dealing, alcohol use, language, religion, addiction, drug overdose, vomiting, one explicit smut scene smut warnings — fingering, protected sex (stay safe, always!), high sex, corruption kink for like 0.2 seconds, degradation collab — bad boy bingo collab, link here lyrics inspiration — “call it quits, call it destiny.” bruno major, easily ; “gotta stay high all the time, to keep you off my mind.” tove lo, habits writing playlist — link here

author’s message — oh my gosh, it’s finally here! this has been a work in progress basically ever since early summer, when i started writing on this blog. this is one of my favorite pieces i’ve ever written, but not because writing it came easy to me; quite the opposite. i scrapped and rewrote this three times, consulted many people for their opinions because i simply didn’t think that it was good. a few thank you’s: my babe @jensungf for reading the first draft when it was at barely 5k, the lovely @ncteaxhoe for reading it at 7k and also the night i finished it, @taempteng the writing god for proofing it for me, and my amazing @starlit-jeno for getting me through everything. also thank you @legendnct for hosting this collab! it’s finally at a place where i am happy and very very proud of what i’ve written. i hope you all read and enjoy!

—DAY ONE.

The ice cold water thrown over him shocks Mark awake from his post-high sleep.

“What the hell, man?” He exclaims, wiping the water from his face as he sits up in his bed, soaked t-shirt sticking to the curve of his clavicles. His eyes meet the source of the intrusion: his roommate and best friend Lucas, holding a now empty pitcher.

“Dude. It’s past noon. Wake up.”

Lucas’ passive words only make Mark furrow his eyebrows in annoyance. “Shut the fuck up bitch, I’m awake.”

“Someone’s feisty today.” Lucas retorts, tossing Mark a towel as he swings his legs over the bed. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he recognizes his best friend’s chastising tone in his diluted ears. “When did you get back last night? What were you doing?”

“Calm down,” Mark groans, the volume of Lucas’ voice beginning to hurt his head. Running a hand through his now wet hair, he responds, “I was smoking with Yuta. Got back around three in the morning.”

“Yuta,” mumbles Lucas. “You know, I don’t like him. You’re always with him, getting high or something. Exams start soon, and you’re not planning to study at all? You’ve been high every day for what, like, the past two weeks?”

This early morning lecture is enough to cause Mark’s irritation to spike. Since when is Lucas so nitpicky? Last time he checked, Lucas enjoys partying just as much as he does. Sometimes, even more than Mark himself. “Fuck, are you my roommate or my mom?”

“I’m your best friend, is what I am. I’m worried about you. All you do is party, get high, and sleep. When was the last time you even ate?” Before Mark can even think back to answer that, Lucas continues, “You’ve been like this since you broke up with Y/N, and—”

Mark cuts him off. “Don’t say her name.”

“You’re hurting, Mark. And this isn’t the right way to handle it.”

“Oh, so you take one psychology course and you think you’re an expert or something,” Mark scoffs.

This seems to stunt his roommate for a second, before he sighs looking down at the image of his best friend sitting on the edge of his bed, gaunt eyes and all. The last time he saw his friend looking so pitiful was when his dad had passed. “I’m just worried about you. You should let me be, sometimes,” replies Lucas quietly.

“I’m an adult,” says Mark, which causes Lucas to scoff and respond, “Then act like one.” Annoyed, Mark stands and instead takes a seat at his desk chair.

The taller male speaks up once again, starting to tear off Mark’s bed sheets that are now wet. “You need to stop. This isn’t good for you. Stop the drugs and tell Johnny you’re done. Study for your finals. Get your act together, stop acting like an idiot, and go get her back.”

When he finishes stripping the sheets and looks up, Mark’s head is in his hands. “It’s not that easy.”

“You love her.”

“But that doesn’t mean we’re meant to be together,” Mark finally says as he looks up, voice raised in frustration at both the situation and the fact that his best friend is calling him out for it. “We can’t be together,” he declares. “I’m only going to ruin her. She’s good. I’m bad. She has a future. I don’t. She’s everything I’m not and I can’t mess it up for her. Not after... Not after—” Lucas cuts his friend off, sensing that he’s about to start hyperventilating.

“I know. What happened, you can’t change it. It was your fault. But don’t say you’re not meant to be together. Nothing’s going to change the past. You broke up. But nothing’s going to bring you back together but yourself.”

Mark stares at Lucas with tired, red-rimmed eyes, wondering when his tall goofy friend had grown so much. Has everything around him changed, matured, while he stayed the same?

“How do I do that?” He finally relents.

“Make yourself good enough for her. Start with the drugs. Stop doing them.”

He knows the truth in that statement, but doesn’t want to acknowledge it. It’s a lot easier said than done. With no words to say, Mark stands and starts to walk past his friend toward the bathroom. On the way out, he accidentally kicks his guitar, on the floor propped on the wall. “Fuck,” he curses, looking down at the old wooden thing.

Lucas follows him out as he leaves the room, and Mark steps into the bathroom. Opening the mirror cabinet, he pulls out his prescription bottle which shakes with noise. Silently he pops a pill into his mouth and swallows it with a handful of tap water. It’s probably a bad idea on an empty stomach, but he’ll eat whatever Lucas is making right after.

“That includes the Xanax, Mark!” Lucas’ voice calls from the kitchen.

“Baby steps,” he responds, staring endlessly into the pitiful character watching him in the mirror.

—THE FIRST NIGHT

It isn’t his first party, but it’s his first college party. There’s a big difference.

The scale is larger, the alcohol more plentiful. And more importantly, the shame of being under the influence is nonexistent. His ziploc of kush feels heavy in his pocket, but he knows he’ll feel lighter with its effect later on. School’s only been in session a week, yet Mark’s already decided he likes university more than high school.

He hasn’t smoked yet, but clearly others have, from the haze wafting from room to room. The music is loud, the air is musty, and there’s a cloud of visible smoke surrounding a group of people in the corner. He can smell it now, the familiar scent relaxing him in a new environment.

He’s about to venture out to said group, catching Lucas’ ashy gray hair (a horrible decision, really) sticking out from its inhabitants, but then something catches his eye.

In a room of dark gray smoke and purple LED lights, a white dress catches his attention. He turns his head and, faded by the blurred intensity of the smoke, there you are. Leaning with your back against the wall, alone. You’re not doing much, just standing there in your awkward lonesome looking entirely out of place while swirling the contents of your red cup in your hand. With seemingly no move to drink it, you’re staring blankly into said cup, and Mark stares blankly at you. The white fabric of your dress seems to vividly attract the iridescent purple lights of the party, leaving you to stand out in the massive crowd. Though from the way you stand out from the crowd, it seems that that’s the last thing you want to do; you’d rather blend into the scene.

But you don’t. You’re a beacon of white light in the gray bleakness of the party, and Mark contemplates his next action. He had promised Lucas that he’d be his wingman to try and win over Yuqi. But there’s something about you that pulls him.

Oh well, he muses to himself as he slides across the room toward you. It’s not his fault Lucas needs a wingman to talk to girls, and he doesn’t.

“Hey,” he starts, trying to make himself heard above the music. “You’re staring at that thing like you need a refill.”

At the sound of his voice you look up as though suddenly startled. Then your eyes land on him and Mark’s not entirely sure if he’s sane, but you relax. “No thanks,” you respond politely. “I don’t drink.”

“Really?” Mark glances at his red Solo cup, half filled with some sordid mixture of vodka and Fanta that Doyoung had given him earlier.

“Is that strange?” You ask curiously as he makes move to lean on the wall next to you. Except rather than lean his back to it, he presses his shoulder to the wall to face you.

“A bit.” Mark says as he tilts his head back, pressing the red cup to his lips as he downs the rest of the liquid in his cup.

“Maybe. I’ve learned that there are more people who drink in college than people who don’t… I guess I fall into the second category.” When he finishes his drink, he tosses it over his shoulder.

“Nah,” he says in response. “I don’t really drink either. Only occasionally. I’m already a mess with the weed, imagine how much I’d be if I was an alcoholic.” He nearly expects you to laugh at his lame attempt at being playful, but he’s met with silence. Still, he doesn’t miss the way your eyebrows quirk slightly upward at his words. Right now, dark hair tousled and dark ripped jeans decorating his legs, Mark thinks he looks pretty good. But you don’t seem to be as interested as girls in the past.

“You smoke…” Your words trail and Mark finds himself enraptured by the form of your lips as you talk. His mind flies, but you continue, “How’s that like?”

He shrugs. “It’s nothing, really. Just fun. I have some right now if you want,” he says, patting his jean pocket.

“Oh, no,” you immediately recoil, as if it were preposterous. Immediately your eyes widen and you shake your head at him. “Not-not that people who do it are bad or anything! It’s just… not my thing.”

If you didn’t drink or enjoy any substances, what were you doing here? He asks this aloud.

“My roommate dragged me,” you explain. “We’ve only been living together for a week since the year started but she’s… something else. I’ve seen her smoke more than I’ve seen her study.”

You almost sound scared. This causes a laugh to leave his lips, and yours. He’s finding, in the mere two minutes of conversation you’ve made, that you are very different from the girl he thought you were across the room. You were indeed like your dress that attracted him: bright, pure, and comfortable.

And he wants you.

Your silence brings about Mark’s introduction. “I’m Mark, by the way.” His hand stretches out to you and you stare for a second.

“Y/N.” You place your hand in his, and from the jolt he feels in his heart, the first of its kind, that is the first time that Mark Lee believes in the existence of fate.

—FIVE HOURS CLEAN.

If someone had told Mark in his freshman year of high school that he would become a drug dealer in college, he would have directed them to his father’s church and told them to pray a bit.

Yes, prior to his entrance to adulthood and the cruel, cruel world, Mark Lee was a church boy. A good boy. He did well in school, dedicated his weekends to church and playing basketball with his boys. Up and down the high school halls, his signature laugh could be heard at any moment he wasn’t in class.

Then the summer before his senior year, Pastor Lee passed from cancer and Mark’s boisterous laughter became a long forgotten sound.

It was two weeks after his dad’s funeral that he met Donghyuck, a boy with shady eyes who offered him some kush. Just want to try it, Mark had tried to reason with his conscience when he took that first hit behind the school. Then he fell into the fatal world of drugs and partying. Lucas had been there since their junior high days, sad to see his friend fall so poorly, and he had forced Mark to get his shit together for graduation that year. Barely.

So yes, he was once the bright eyed boy he always wanted to be, who read the Bible front to back and wouldn’t have known how to roll a joint, but that was fantasy. He wasn’t that anymore. He’s a college student trying to get along with the little money he can make from selling weed and other things. He had first gotten into this when he met Johnny Seo, two years above him who could tell that Mark was struggling to make tuition and rent with a job at McDonald’s. Now Johnny has graduated and Mark is still doing his dirty work for him.

That’s exactly what he’s doing now, standing outside Taeyong’s house a little past 6PM with a pouch of kush in his bag.

It’s easy money, but that never calms his nerves.

Even when the door opens to reveal Taeyong, shirtless and red hair in disarray, Mark doesn’t stop bouncing his foot in worry. His restlessness isn’t lost on Taeyong, who had obviously just woken up. “It’s 6PM,” Mark says, eyebrow raised at his appearance.

“I was up all night working on a track.” Taeyong’s eyes flicker to Mark’s bouncing foot. “You’re bouncier than normal,” he comments as he counts his bills in his hand.

“Haven’t had my fix today.” Mark explains simply as the older male hands over a wad of cash. As he counts it silently, Taeyong points his thumb over his shoulder to his living room.

“Wanna come in and hit some?”

Mark looks up at his offer and sighs inwardly. It would be rather easy to just give in and smoke a bit with someone he trusted, and he wouldn’t even be paying for the weed. He’s tempted. After weeks of being stoned nearly every day, he’s starting to itch for a fix. But Lucas’ gruff voice rings in his mind and he knows that if he gives in, only five hours in, he’ll never be able to live with himself. So for now he does it for Lucas, but maybe in time he’ll see that it was for himself after all.

“I’m good.” Mark nearly shoves the pouch of green into Taeyong’s grasp, wanting to be away from it as soon as possible. The red-haired recipient only blinks.

“You’re giving it up or something?”

“Or something,” mumbles Mark sullenly, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“That’s good,” Taeyong declares after a short silence. Mark looks up, meeting Taeyong’s suddenly sincere eyes. “Good for you. I really couldn’t believe that you got into that stuff with Johnny’s crowd anyways.” Mark only shrugs in response. He’d long since stopped deliberating over that. This is his life now. “Still doing music?”

“In name, yeah, I’m still a music major. But I don’t have time to play.” The last time he touched his guitar was this morning when he had kicked it. The last time before that… he doesn’t know if he can’t remember due to a marijuana induced haze or if it’s because it really has been that long.

Taeyong continues. “You know, you don’t have to do this stuff. You’re a talented guy, you’re strong. If you could dedicate yourself to your music like you do to dealing, you wouldn’t need to deal.”

This brings about a sigh from Mark. Who is Taeyong to tell him what to do, anyways? Last time he checked, he was the customer, not Mark. “You all make it sound so easy.”

“Trust me. You can do it.”

—THE FIRST KISS

The first time Mark kisses you, it’s cold outside.

He’s walking you back to your sharehouse, down the streets of town, when he asks, “Be honest with me and tell me if that date sucked.”

It’s been a couple weeks since the two of you first met that fated night at Doyoung’s party, and you’ve only now allowed him to take you out on a date. He doesn’t know that it’s your first. Well, in some ways, it’s his also.

Mark’s been on a few dates, sure, but those all ended up with him getting his dick wet in the dark parking lot of a Burger King or something. He’d normally take them out for fast food, and finish with the usual fun stuff in his back seat. This time it’s… different. Not only does he figure that you wouldn’t be down for that type of date, but something in him wants it to be different. The only problem is he doesn’t know how to plan a good date.

He still took you out to get McDonalds’, but instead of retreating to the backseat, he drove the two of you to the movie theatre. It was probably a dumb choice of him in hindsight, deciding to watch an action movie, but something about the way you hid your face into his neck when one of the characters got punched out made him smile.

“No, it wasn’t… bad,” you respond, swinging your interlaced hands. You had surprised him earlier when you had grabbed his hand upon exiting his car, curling your fingers together.

“You’re lying,” he sighs.

“No, I’m not. Really,” you reassure him as the two of you approach the door of your home. After all, how can you have a bad date when you’ve never been on a date before? You have nothing to compare it to. “I had a good time. Actually… it was my first date.”

Mark blinks, having not expected that to be so. A groan leaves his lips as his free hand comes up to run through his hair. “Oh god, and I ruined it.”

“No, no, it was perfect. I wouldn’t change it for anything.” You smile a sickeningly sweet, charming smile at him, and he sighs. You’re too good for a guy like him.

He’s beyond surprised actually—even though you know of his habits, his hobby of wasting time and rolling joints, you haven’t run away like others. And he likes you. A lot. Even though everything tells him that what he does is bad for you, he still wants you. You’re a comfortable presence in his life.

“You know,” you suddenly start. Mark looks up, intrigued. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

He wonders if the surprise on his face is painfully evident. “Really? Like, ever?”

His question is met with a shake of your head, and he blinks. So you’ve never drank or smoked. That, he can believe. But the fact that you’ve never kissed anyone? Sometimes… you shock him with your boldness. Like earlier when you grabbed his hand and at your first meeting when you had asked for his phone number before he could. But in some moments like now, he realizes just how the duality of your personality comes into play.

“Why’s that?”

You shrug. “I don’t know, it never really felt right,” you explain as the two of you approach your doorstep. As he escorts you up the steps and to your front door, he furrows his brows deeper. Why were you telling him this?

“Does it feel right, now?” He asks softy, gaze flickering to your interlaced hands as he turns to face you. His hand reaches forward, cupping your cheek, the touch soft despite the callused skin of his hands.

“Yes,” you respond gently, simpering smile on your roseate tiers.

The smile on your face is sweet and pure, two words that Mark isn’t.

A flood of relief shows on Mark’s face, and you bite down on your lower lip as excitement bubbles in your stomach. “Can I kiss you?” A response quickly follows. For some reason he can’t quite figure out, you let him into the maze that is you. Despite the leather jacket, his messy hair, and the lingering smell of weed on his clothes, you want him just as much as he wants you. Even though you both know that he isn’t the type of guy that you normally like, the type of guy that your mother would approve of, you trust him. It’s bewildering to him.

Then he guides you to him. Within seconds his lips are on yours, and you melt into him. It’s surely not Mark’s first kiss but it feels like it. The initial awkwardness, then the heat on his cheeks as you both fall into a rhythm. It feels right, like it was meant to be, just as Mark had hoped.

You’re like the kind of irreplicable drug that Mark has sought after for years. The kind that brings a euphoric high which burns his lungs and twists his stomach, but in all the right ways.

—29 HOURS CLEAN.

The smell filling the kitchen leads Lucas to scrunch his nose in distaste when he exits his room. “Dude, what the hell is that smell?”

His answer lies in the pan on the stove and Mark standing in the kitchen, wielding a wooden spoon. Clad in only basketball shorts, he looks absolutely foreign to the environment. Lucas sighs. “Please tell me you’re not boiling crack right here in our kitchen.”

The face the Korean makes is scandalized. “What—no, what the fuck? It’s mapo tofu. I’d be insane to try and make crack cocaine.” He adds under his breath, “In the apartment.”

Lucas leans back against the counter, cocking an eyebrow. “Then why are you cooking mapo tofu of all things? I haven’t seen you eat anything but ramen and eggs probably since we moved in here. And—put on a shirt if you’re cooking, or an apron at least. You look like a caveman.”

“Well,” sounds Mark with a roll of his eyes at his friend’s expected lecturing. “I had a shirt on, but I spilled some spicy shit on it and took it off. And I,” he pauses, turning off the stove. “I thought we could eat your favorite food together before we head out to Hendery’s party. You know, as a… sorry for being a bitch yesterday apology.”

The taller man narrows his eyes, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to make sense of his best friend’s words. “So you… decided to make my favorite food because you felt bad that I had to wake you up and take care of your shit?”

“I guess, yeah.”

Lucas laughs, a deep sound, whilst shaking his head. “Dude, I’ve been doing that since middle school and you’re only apologizing now?”

Mark purses his lips, making a face of annoyance. “Better late than never.”

“I guess. But sorry, I wouldn’t want to eat your mapo tofu anyways. Smells more like my week’s laundry than food. Maybe next time just order from that Chinese place around the corner that I actually like,” advises Lucas.

A pitiful laugh leaves Mark’s lips. “Duly noted.”

“And anyways, I’m not going to Hendery’s party. I have plans.” This causes Mark to finally take a good look at his friend. He’s normally well-dressed, but tonight he looks even better, a little too fancy for the typical college frat party. Before Mark can even question what these other plans are, Lucas explains, “I have a date with—”

“Yuqi,” finishes Mark for him. “Figured.” Lucas grabs his wallet on the counter, nodding before tucking it into his pant pocket. “Is that why you haven’t been partying with us? Or why you’ve suddenly been on this, ‘Mark, sobriety is key’ rant?” Mark questions, lowering his voice to imitate that of his roommate’s. At Lucas’ silence, Mark scoffs. “Dude, your relationship is so fucked up, how many times are you guys going to try to make it work when it doesn’t?”

All that leaves Lucas is a sigh, but Mark continues. “This is what, your third breakup so far? And fourth time trying to make it work?”

“Some things are worth the effort,” replies Lucas easily, slipping on his shoes. As he reaches to tie his laces, Mark continues, “She takes up all of your time now, you haven’t hung with us in months, and all for a relationship that’s destined to fail.”

“Nothing’s destined to fail, Mark. It’s all about how hard you’re willing to work for it.” His voice is calm, but there’s something building beneath it. To this, Mark sighs, and says, “You’ve changed, man.”

Lucas grabs his keys, clearly at the limit with Mark’s prodding. “Sometimes people are worth changing for, Mark. Yuqi forgave me for what I did, and I forgave her for what she did. We’re trying, okay? We’re not walking away. I’m sure…” The taller male pauses on his words, as though contemplating them, before continuing. “I’m sure Y/N would’ve forgiven you for what you did, but you walked away. And that’s where we’re different.”

It hits him, and Mark tightens his jaw. Yes, his relationship with Y/N was destined to fail too, there was no denying it. To fight with his friend who he had just tried to make amends with, or apologize? He goes with the latter, only because he’s too exhausted for a yelling match right now. “Lucas, I’m sorry, okay? I’m a little… on edge.”

“I know. I’ve known you for years,” chuckles Lucas softly. “I know how you get.”

“Yeah. Have fun on your date, though.”

His best friend nods tightly. “Yeah, I will. But if you care about what I told you, don’t go to the party tonight. You know you won’t be able to control yourself.” Mark nods, sighing. “And throw out that mapo tofu while you’re at it. It stinks, and not in the good way mapo tofu’s supposed to smell.”

Mark rolls his eyes while Lucas’ laugh fills his ears. “Just leave already.”

With a few smooth movements he’s already slid out the apartment door. A sigh leaves him, alone in the apartment. He does as Lucas says, tossing his attempt at dinner in the trash. It’s gonna be a long night.

—THE FIRST TASTE.

The first time that you kiss Mark, however, it’s hot inside his apartment and sweat sticks the fabric of your tank top to your stomach.

That doesn’t stop you from cuddling on his couch however, and you gaze up at him from your position under his arm to watch as your boyfriend, focused on the TV, lifts his blunt to his lips and takes a long drag. Underneath his arm, you observe how his lips wrap around the circumference of it, sucking in a sharp breath before releasing it into the air. He knows that over your time together, you’ve come to accept the smoking. It’s obviously clear to him that you don’t particularly approve, but Mark’s responsible enough to control himself. Now however, as you gaze up at him, you realize just how attractive your boyfriend is. Dark hair tousled and arms bared through his tank top, he looks so, so good. Somehow, he looks even better with the cig in his hand.

You never would have thought you’d fall for such a guy like him, but you keep falling. He’s not the good guy that you dreamed of, but that’s okay, because you make him good.

“Mark?” You ask, still looking up at him.

He hums in response, turning to look at you.

Your voice is soft as you ask, “Do you believe in destiny?”

Your boyfriend blinks at the sudden question. “Define destiny.”

“That like, we all have a predetermined fate. That everything happens for a reason, and every challenge is just a small piece in a bigger puzzle. That we all have soulmates we’re destined to be with.” Mark’s lips purse, pouting just the slightest in thought, a habit of his.

Does he?

It’s a question, because he used to. He used to be a good old Christian boy, of course he believed that God had a plan for everyone. Every tribulation was just something that would make him stronger in the end. Unfortunately, the last time Mark can remember being at church, he fucked one of the choir girls in the Bible study room.

He can’t really pinpoint when he stopped believing in fate. God? Yeah, sure he still believes in him, though the big guy upstairs will probably send him south for his irrefutable sins. But fate? Not really. If fate was real then it was really messed up to make him such a failure.

But, he realizes, gazing at the strands of hair matted to your forehead as a result of the hot summer weather, and the pure adulation in your eyes as you gaze up to him, that perhaps because of you, his destiny isn’t too bad. Sure, he’s a fuck up with addictions and demons, but he does pretty well by keeping you happy. Because you make him happy. A smooth, suave smile spreads across his lips like butter. “I didn’t before, but I do now.”

Your eyebrow perks up. “Now you do? Why’s that?”

His arm wrapped lazily around your shoulders allows him to pull your face close. With the same smile, he presses a number of kisses to your cheek (much to your sweet protest, complaining about his sweat and smoke). As though he attempts to mask his words against your skin, he mumbles, “Because I found you.”

Mark has never told you that he loves you; it’s a bit too intimate for him, who’s never been vulnerable in that way, and you, whose every first is him.

But he doesn’t have to say it, because you know it.

Your lips break out into a flustered smile, though you try to hide it from him. His quiet, unsaid confession fills you with glee and more importantly, confidence.

“Babe,” you tell him. This grabs his attention, because you rarely use such sweet nicknames. He attempts to respond, but you’re already sitting up and swinging yourself over to straddle his lap. Your movement brings about confusion on his features, and you take a deep breath. This isn’t the first time you’ve been in this position with him, but the first time you’ve made the initiative to do it yourself. Mark was always leading you. So you lean forward, placing your hands on his shoulders, and you kiss him.

You can probably taste the smoke on your tongue, but you’ve grown accustomed to that. Mark kisses back and grips your waist with his free hand, both shocked and amused by your sudden courage. Everything feels right, it’s like it’s destiny. He’s about to slip his tongue into your mouth but you break the connection, choosing instead to linger your lips over his. Your breath is hot on his as you finally speak.

“I want a puff.”

“Are you sure?” He looks up at you, nearly breathless at the sight of you atop him. Lip gloss smeared from your heated kiss, you look delectable. Your wide eyes, once depicting innocence, are now focused and curious. He knows you don’t necessarily approve of his habits, but here you are, sitting on top of him looking irresistible and asking for a taste.

“Yes,” you confirm, as though reassuring yourself. Mark had always liked you, been attracted to you because of the notion that you were innocent, pure, bright. Everything he was not. He had never wanted to taint you, yet his confession still hangs in the air.

But as he lifts his blunt to his mouth, taking a long drag before blowing the diluted smoke into your waiting cavern, he starts to worry that this would be the beginning of a long downward spiral which would place no blame anywhere but on him.

—44 HOURS CLEAN.

The withdrawal forces him from his sleep at 5AM.

Mark wakes in a cold sweat, itching for a fix. That’s when he realizes how deep he really is.

Shit.

His fingers are shaking, so he moves to occupy them with the only thing he can think of. He drags himself out of bed, grabs his guitar, and makes his way out to the living room. Plopping himself down on the floor next to a window, he attempts to refamiliarize himself with the strings that he had abandoned. Lucas is still asleep, so he plucks quietly.

He has long since forgotten what it was like to lose himself in the sound.

There was once a time when he was passionate for something other than haze. It was music. The first time he touched a guitar, magic sprung through his fingers and he knew: he was made for this. Somehow, majoring in music composition and being forced to take so many theory and history classes had caused his passion to simmer. Now, it slowly burns again.

He doesn’t realize how the hours pass and the sun begins to shine between the blinds.

His mind brushes over what Taeyong had told him two days ago. Is this what he had been missing all this time? All the hours he spent blinded by a foggy smoked haze, had he been neglecting his own love for music? It’s amazing what he can accomplish when he takes a break from that life.

He starts to feel like the old Mark again.

For a second, he stops strumming and directs his gaze to outside the window. There’s not much to see except the college town, with the glimpse of the university itself just atop the hill, but he stares and relishes in the sight of the sunlight casting a glow over the town.

A knock on the door interrupts his deliberations.

A glance to the clock tells him it’s barely 9AM. Who would be here so early? There are two options, he decides as he stands from the floor to stretch his legs, resting his guitar on the wall. It’s either Yuqi, Lucas’ renowned off-again on-again girlfriend, or Johnny coming to deliver the week’s set.

When he opens the door, the visitor’s face is blocked by a box, but he knows those shoes. Those white ballet flats with purple bows were always your favorite.

Suddenly the box lowers and Mark is finally face to face with you, his ex-girlfriend. He hasn’t seen your face in the months since you’ve called it quits, even though he’s spent countless moments just staring at the leftover pictures on his phone. You look surprised to see him.

“Oh—Mark. Lucas said you probably wouldn’t be awake.” So you had been keeping in touch with Lucas? This is news to him. Had his best friend been sharing that he had been basically wasting away the past few months without you?

“Couldn’t sleep,” explains Mark almost sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. For a moment he’s glad he had the mind to put on a shirt before coming outside.

“Oh…” You trail, your gaze traveling down to the box absentmindedly.

He doesn’t mean to be rude, but the surprise at seeing you on his doorstep makes him a bit gruff. You’re still the same as before: same face, same shoes, same bright eyes. But there’s something about you, about your aura that’s different. More mature. More independent. Because you don’t need him anymore. “What are you doing here?”

If you’re taken aback by his coarseness, you don’t show it. “I brought a box of your stuff. It’s just... stuff that was left at my house.” You gesture to the box in your hands, and Mark is quick to take it from your arms. He prays you don’t take note of the way his hands shake.

Slowly he places it on the floor next to the door and when he stands again, you’re leaning back and forth on your heels looking rather awkward. He doesn’t ask for an explanation but you give one anyways. You had always had a habit of talking too much when you felt nervous. “I’ve had it since...” Your breakup, but neither of you want to say it. “I put it together a couple months ago but put off bringing it over. But I figured, uh, the school year’s over in a couple weeks so I should just do it. I texted Lucas, he said he’d be awake to grab it but..”

“He’s still asleep,” Mark completes for you.

“Yeah,” you say simply. No longer having a box to occupy your hands, you hold them behind your back which only furthers the idea that you’re uncomfortable in his presence. It makes him sad almost, how much things have changed.

He thinks back to what Lucas had told him at the start of the weekend. Maybe it was possible to change things back to the way they used to be. “Do you want to come inside? I have some coffee, or some—”

You look at him with blinking eyes. “I don’t dr—”

“I know.” He knows you don’t drink coffee. Of course he does. “I have tea. It’s even peppermint, your favorite.”

“You drink peppermint tea?” You look at him, incredulous.

“I don’t. It’s leftover from when I bought it for you. I just... haven’t thrown it out yet.”

That’s what your love had done to him: turned him from a brooding boy into a softened man, so much that he was willing to keep your favorite drink around just in case you’d ever come back and want it.

“Oh,” you sound. Your teeth bite down gently on your bottom lip, gnawing it in contemplation as you look away from him momentarily. When you look back, he can see you’ve made your decision. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Mark. I’m sorry.”

He expected it, but it doesn’t sting any less. “That’s okay. I understand.” An attempt at a smile is displayed on his face, but it doesn’t reflect any of the radiance in the smile that you mirror back at him. It’s small, the tips of your lips barely lifting, but it’s enough to remind him that you are indeed all that is good in the world, and he needs you. He loves you.

Maybe he can’t love you right now but one day, he’ll be good enough to deserve you. That day isn’t today, but it’ll come eventually. “I’ll see you around,” you say to him.

“I hope so,” is his response.

You give him another small smile before turning to leave. “I hope you’re doing okay, Mark.”

He is, or he’s trying to. When you leave, he closes the door and returns the box to his bedroom before opening it up. Inside, numerous hoodies gifted to you because they became too small for him but were still huge on you. Old songbooks from his high school days that he no longer needed. A teddy bear he had gifted you on your first anniversary.

Pushing the box aside, he grabs a notebook and his music theory textbook. Maybe it actually would do him some good to study.

—THE FIRST TEAR.

“What the hell, Mark?”

You don’t curse often, so when you do, it wakes him. When you find him in his room, he’s knocked out with his body half on the bed and the other half slung over the edge. His hair sticks out in numerous fluffy tufts over his pillow, but you can still smell the weed off of him.

“He only came back like, three hours ago.” He hears Lucas’ voice selling him out, and he groans into the pillow, only lifting his head to grumble at his roommate.

“Snitch bitch,” he says, his voice groggy and scratched.

“Don’t get mad at him,” you suddenly speak up. “At least he answered my calls when I was calling, worried where you were because you hadn’t texted me since,” you stop to check your phone. “5PM last night!”

“I told you, I was going to Johnny’s party,” responds Mark, sitting up in his bed, head still spinning. Rubbing his eyes, he sits up, looking rather disheveled and hungover.

“Yeah, and you never texted me to let me know you were home. How would I have known if you had overdosed, or passed out drunk, or got in a car accident? Or just died?” As your voice rises, reaching a volume you’ve rarely ever employed, you clear your throat to calm yourself and turn to Lucas. “Thanks, Lucas. I appreciate it.”

“Any time,” he responds, giving a nod before walking away, likely disappearing into his room.

When you turn back to gaze into Mark’s room, he’s slipped on a shirt. “What the hell were you doing out so late? 9AM is when you should be waking up, Mark, not falling asleep. Finals are next week, you were supposed to meet me at the library an hour ago!”

He makes an annoyed expression at your chastising, and you gaze at him with expectant eyes, awaiting an explanation. All he does is grimace and say, “Babe, can you like, quiet down? I’m hungover, your voice is too loud.”

Your jaw drops.

For a moment you stay like that, until you continue speaking, words coming out faster than Mark can understand them. “I’m just trying to help, Mark. You’ve partied more than you’ve studied this year, and I’m not going to let you just get away with it. Almost every weekend I have to stay up worrying about you, wondering when you’ll get home, unable to sleep until you text me that you’re home and okay.”

“Maybe you should stop worrying then,” he retorts.

“Maybe stop giving me reasons to worry?”

He rolls his eyes, laying back in his bed. “Maybe you should come with me then.”

You quickly reply, “Maybe you should stop partying.”

“Maybe you should stop trying to control me,” he finally spits.

Once again, you’re rendered speechless. And when you turn your head away, focusing your gaze to the hallway instead of at him, Mark thinks he’s won. But then you sniff, an indication that your sensitive heart has once again been touched with tears. “Please,” you finally say, voice weak. This is the timbre Mark is used to hearing from you, not the tone you had used earlier when yelling at him. In this moment, he’s not sure which one he hates more. “Please stop this.”

In a swift movement you reach forward, gathering yourself on your knees before his bed. You grab his hand, pressing your lips to it as a tear makes its way down your cheek. “Please, please, please… please stop the drugs, Mark. It’s made you this… this terrible person and I know you’re not like this.” Suddenly, you’re crying into the palm of his hand while he gazes at you in surprise. “Missing dates, staying out late, yelling, I know that’s not you.”

“Y/N—”

“Please, just call Johnny and tell him you can’t do this anymore. Tell him you’re done. Please, for me.”

Your begging causes Mark’s jaw to tighten subconsciously. What you’re hoping for is a better Mark, a different person. He’s not that person that you want him to be, he can never be that way. This is how he is and how he’ll always be. This is his fate, to be a lowlife drug dealer barely passing college, and if you can’t handle it then—“You know I can’t do that. You promised you’d be here through everything, all the good and the bad.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to let you destroy yourself like this, Mark.”

He rips his hand from your grasp, causing a slight squeak of surprise to leave your lips. It’s almost as if he’s not in control of himself, because he blows up. “Can’t you just be like a good girlfriend and love me through the bad shit? I’m trying my best here.”

But is he really? Suddenly, as though empowered by some kind of intangible strength, you rise to your feet, the sadness in your eyes now quickly replaced by anger. “I do love you, that’s why I’m acting like this, you asshole!” You wipe your tears furiously with the back of your hand before glowering down at him. “But if you can’t keep your mind sober long enough to see that then call me when you can.”

He registers the sound of the bedroom door slamming shut, causing it to ring in his ears. Within the blink of an eye, you’re gone. Fate is a really messed up bitch for this.

—1 WEEK CLEAN.

It’s been a week.

A week since the last time he touched anything, though he had been tempted when Yuta invited him over for some sativa. The drinking and partying isn’t hard to let go of. It’s the weed, because it got him through the hardest days.

A week in, and he’s pretty proud of himself.

Nowadays, he tries to occupy his shaking hands with guitar or studying but he’s started playing so often that his hands are now raw and in pain. Today, because the weather’s nice outside and his fingers hurt like hell, he decides to take a walk.

It’s aimless at first, just exploring the streets around his apartment on foot. But then ten, fifteen, thirty minutes pass, and without knowing it, he’s arrived at his destination. Johnny’s place. Standing in front of the door, eyes boring into the bright red paint of the front door, Mark feels himself start to slip. No, he decides, he has to do this. This is the right thing.

A shaky knock on the door is followed by another stronger one. He waits a minute before trying again, yet as his hand lifts to place another knock on it, it slides open to reveal Johnny himself in casual wear. “Hey,” greets Johnny, giving Mark a nod. “What’s up? I told you I’d drop the next batch off at your place, you didn’t have to come out here.”

At Johnny’s question, Mark feels his breath caught in his throat. Not only is the guy taller than him and towering over him in every aspect, but he could definitely throw Mark under the bus for his own crimes. But no… he wouldn’t do that, right? He had done enough for Johnny over the past three years that he would let him off easily, surely? A gulp is heard in Mark’s throat as he straightens his position in front of Johnny.

“That’s the thing. I… I don’t want to do this anymore.”

For a moment, Mark thinks that the taller man will be angry. Johnny stands before him, eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

“I just need to.”

Johnny immediately starts to argue, tilting his head. “You know you’re my best seller, though. No one sells as much as you, and I trust you with all the big deliveries. Who am I supposed to give the heroin to now… Ten? As if, Mark.” He scoffs, shaking his head.

“I…” Mark starts, though he stops. “I need to stop. I’ll finish the batch from this week, I promise. I only have like, two deliveries left but I just, it’s not healthy for me. And it’s not because I’m planning to sell you out or anything, or find someone else but I just can’t do this anymore.” He finds himself ranting, finding more interest in anything but Johnny’s face. “I’m not happy, I’m angry and anxious all the time, and being around the drugs only makes me want to do it more, and I just… I just can’t, John.”

When he finishes his unfiltered rant, he looks back to the taller male and tries to read his expression. Will he be angry? If his earlier debate was anything, he definitely wouldn’t let Mark off without a fight.

But instead, the older nods. “I get it. Just finish your deliveries for this week and call it done.”

Mark blinks at Johnny’s easy acquiescence. “T-That’s it? You’re not going to fight more?”

“You want me to?” Johnny asks, cocking an eyebrow that’s almost mocking.

“No, but I…”

“Thought you’d be worth the fight?”

“No, that’s not it.” Mark shakes his head. “I just…”

“Mark,” sighs Johnny, standing straight from where he had been leaning rather casually against the doorframe. “I’m not stupid, okay? I know that drug dealing is hard for you. And I’m also not oblivious, I know that you and your girlfriend broke up, okay? Yuta told me what happened with the coke, and I wasn’t surprised when you refused to sell it anymore.”

Mark frowns even deeper at the mention of it, but Johnny continues. “I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t want to do. If you say it’s not good for you, then it’s not good for you.”

“But…” Mark starts, but doesn’t find the words to continue. It was… that easy. “Okay. Uh, thanks, I guess. For everything?”

“Sure. Just don’t come crawling back when you can’t make rent on your McDonalds’ salary. Male strippers make pretty good money, if you’re interested.” It’s clear Johnny’s joking, so Mark rolls his eyes and laughs, though the sound is somewhat tight.

“I’d love to talk to you some more about ways to get a hustle going, but I have to go find a new dealer, and teach Ten how to stop giving weed to everyone he meets because he thinks they need a pick-me-up.” Johnny sighs, as though the life of a drug dealer is the most difficult of them all, which in Mark’s experience, it might just be.

“Alright. Uh, later, John.”

Johnny nods in acknowledgement before shutting the door. Mark breaths out a heavy breath.

That went… surprisingly well. Maybe Lucas was right, maybe it really was this easy all this time. Perhaps he had always just been the one believing that it was difficult, because he had made it so. He had been stressing over it all this time, but Johnny was more easygoing about it than he’d thought.

As he walks the path home, he thinks he deserves a reward for his endeavors. It’s a bit selfish maybe, but he opens his phone, and you’re on his speed dial.

“Hello?” You ask, voice bright as always but clearly a bit guarded from the name that had flashed across your screen.

“Y/N,” Mark breathes out. It’s only been a few days since you had swung by the apartment.

“Hey, uh… what’s up?”

He doesn’t quite know either. He had quite honestly been a bit impulsive in pressing on your contact, and now that you truly rest across the phone from him, he has no idea what his purpose was. “Um, nothing much, I just wanted to tell you…” A soft breath leaves his lips. Will you be happy for him? “I told Johnny that I quit, that I’m done.”

There’s a momentary pause on the line, and Mark begins to worry that you’ve hung up when you finally breathe out, “That’s good, Mark. I’m… I’m proud of you.”

Proud. He had only been hoping for a “good for you,” at most, but to hear that you’re proud of him, it makes him smile to the ground as he walks the trail back to his apartment. Fuck, you’ve made him weak. “Thanks.”

“I guess you really are doing well then,” you say.

When he gets home, riding the high of his successes from standing up to Johnny to calling you, he flushes his Xanax pills down the toilet and watches as they swirl away into oblivion, as if they had never existed in his life in the first place.

—THE FIRST CRASH.

Mark connects his lips to your neck and suckles on it softly, drawing a moan out of you. The sound you make goes straight to his dick, and he releases a breathy groan against your skin. “Fuck, you sound so pretty, princess.”

Princess—that’s the name he’s given you, because all he wants to do is treat you right. And he does, especially in times like these, where you feel the heat of his body on top of yours and he devours your moans in his mouth.

He currently lays between your spread legs, your combined figure lost in his bed sheets as he softly grinds his hardened core against yours. He’s still got his jeans on while you’re laying only clad in your panties, yet the feel of the denim is enough to have you moaning. You tilt your head back as a light mewl leaves your lips, your body subconsciously grinding down on his.

It had been complete heaven for the both of you when you had given him your virginity, your purity, at the beginning of this year, and since then you have been basically insatiable. You had never felt such desire for anyone before him. Now as his hands rub small circles over your clothed clit, you want him once more.

You’re shaking your head, so needy for him but he doesn’t relent, only smirking more while he continues rubbing sinful circles on your clit. “Tell me what you want.” He wants to hear your beg.

Voice soft and breathy, you say, “Please, Mark, I—”

The doorbell rings. It’s heard through the apartment and Mark groans, rolling his eyes while attempting to keep you going. “Keep going. It’s probably just Lucas forgetting his key again.”

Though the mood was momentarily killed, you both try to fall back into place. Now his fingers have left your clit, instead pulling your panties down to your midthigh. “Shit, you’re soaking,” he moans out in amazement, running a finger through your wet folds. As much as he wants to dive in and fuck you until you’re cumming all over his cock, he needs to hear your sweet voice dripping dirty words for him first. Easily, he slides a finger in, to which you groan at the stretch. But it’s not enough.

“Don’t tease me, please.”

He smirks, slowly sliding his singular digit out of your sensitive core whilst he thumbs your clit. “Go on then, princess. Tell me what you need.”

“Fuck,” you curse and he finds it so hot. “I… I want you to—”

The doorbell again. This time, Mark audibly curses. “Fucking hell,” he sighs, removing his fingers from where you need him. Instead, he moves up and places a sweet kiss on your lips. “I’ll be right back.”

He’s still fully dressed, so he simply opens the door and slips outside before closing it again behind him. As he’s walking down the hall, the doorbell rings once again, causing him to roll his eyes. God, how many times was Lucas going to lose his keys?

The person at the door, however, isn’t his roommate. It’s Johnny, holding a black gym bag. Mark already knows what it is. He runs a hand through his hair, already crazy from how you had been running your hands through it. “Hey, John,” he says, taking the bag clearly in a rush. It’s Sunday, which means Johnny’s dropping off Mark’s deliveries for the week.

“Hey, man,” greets Johnny, handing over the list. Mark doesn’t even bother to check that everything’s there, so the older man raises an eyebrow. “Busy?” He asks, eyeing Mark’s disheveled clothes and the fresh hickey on his collarbone.

“Kind of.”

“Nice. See you next week,” says Johnny with a click of his tongue and a wink, then Mark closes the door and he’s gone. Now, back to what’s important. He slings the strap over his shoulder and makes his way back to his bedroom. As soon as he enters, you look up at him with wide, anticipating eyes.

You’ve pulled your undergarments back on, much to his displeasure. Mark drops the dark bag on the floor in the corner, and your eyes find it. “Johnny came?”

“Yeah. Just dropping off for the week,” replies Mark, his mind not exactly on it as he takes off his shirt, tossing it somewhere. He moves back over your figure on the bed, lips on the curve of your breast fully intending to return things to the intensity they were at just earlier.

Though his lips trail up to meet yours and his hands begin tugging your panties back down, he can tell from the way you’re kissing him that you’re not fully there. So when you moan his name, he knows it’s not out of pleasure. “Mark,” you say softly against his lips.

“Hmm,” he responds, callused hands gripping your thighs and leading them open. He’s about to slip his hand inside your panties, but your hand stops him.

“Can I have some?” When he looks at you, your eyes are not focused on him, but the bag in the corner. Your eyes are faded, clouded as your both ascend to a place of pleasure. You… wanted drugs? Sure, he’s blown a few times in your mouth but in your relationship spanning over a year already, you’ve never directly asked for any.

His dark eyebrows furrow. “Are you sure?”

You bite down on your lip. “What’s in it?”

“I don’t know,” reveals Mark truthfully as he gets off of you and makes his way over to the package, picking it up and placing it on the bed. You’re sitting up now, peering over the bag with interest as he unzips the gym bag open. Though the exterior looks unsuspicious, the bag opens up to reveal bags of white powder and green kush.

Cocaine.

It’s dangerous. Mark gazes down at it, biting down on his lip.

“Is that… cocaine?” You ask, not unaware of the extreme drug sitting in your boyfriend’s room.

He nods, almost ashamed. “Yeah.”

A silence falls over the two of you, both just staring at the white bags. It’s almost unbearable, how much Mark wants to throw the bag away and just resume your activities, but you’re still gazing into the bag with contemplation, fear, and even… curiosity.

“So, can I have some?” You ask again.

Mark sputters for a second, blinking. “Babe. I—are you sure?”

You nod, eyes dark and curious. “Yeah.” At your confirmation, sounding like it was more to assure yourself than him, Mark stares holes into the white substance. It’s filling the bag to the brim—surely whoever he has to deliver it to won’t notice a line’s worth missing.

So it’s with steady yet hesitant hands that he pulls a pack from the bag, directing you. “Grab your credit card,” he says, walking over to his nightstand. Unzipping the bag just the slightest, he pours out a small amount. Just a little bit, he swears.

When you return to his side with your said card in your hand, he takes it from you and lines up the coke on the table. In a neat little line, it’s set up for you. “Okay,” he starts, looking at you. “Just hold down one nostril and—”

“I know how to do it. I’ve seen it at parties.” You interrupt him as you kneel, finally head level with the nightstand. It’s true; the few parties you have attended alongside your boyfriend, there’s more than enough depictions. He watches with interest as you lean forward, holding one side of your nose closed, and snort up the entire line in one go.

First, you cough into the nightstand. When you turn and look at him, you’re wiping the remaining white dust from your nose. “You okay?” Your boyfriend asks you, to which you nod. “It takes a few minutes to work.”

Again, you nod silently, sitting down on the bed and gesturing Mark to come to you. When he approaches, you lay back in his bed, looking up at him with lustful eyes. “Now, hurry up and fuck me.”

The words are so rare from you. It’s all he needs to hear, unbuckling his belt and dragging his jeans to the floor in two swift movements. Within moments he’s back on top of you, feeling your heat once again. He starts slow, pressing kisses to your stomach, breasts, and neck while waiting for the drug to take effect. He knows the exact moment that it begins to work; your pupils immediately dilate, and suddenly you’re a loose, moaning mess underneath him.

Your muscles relaxed, Mark immediately presses a long kiss to your swollen lips while dragging down your panties. He would usually opt for more foreplay, but he’s waited long enough. He pulls away for the shortest moment to slip on a condom, but before you know it he’s already flush against you again.

It feels so good, even just his touch on you. You’re so sensitive, senses heightened by the drug that you feel everything: his large hands on your breasts over your tips, his lips marking your neck. When he leads his dick to your dripping entrance, you watch in anticipation, though you’re shaking.

As he finally slides in, finally filling you up, you tilt your head back and let out a loud moan, the loudest yet. It just feels so good, you feel so full, and he’s so, so deep.

Everything is…. so good. Euphoria creeps into your headspace.

He pulls out, and you moan again. “Ah,” you gasp sharply, feeling every ridge, every muscle stretched as he slides out, only the tip inside you. Then he slams back in, causing your back to arch and your toes to curl. “Oh, fuck,” you moan out again, eyes closed tightly, lost in the pleasure.

Mark’s hand grips at your hips, eyebrows furrowed in focus as he falls into a rhythm. He would have taken some himself, but he wanted to watch you fall apart under him. Suddenly you grab at his free hand, and he intertwines your fingers. You’re squeezing him, his hand and his dick altogether, so tightly as you’re lost in your pleasure.

“Fuck, princess, you feel so good,” he moans out, closing his eyes. He immediately opens them again, not wanting to miss a second of you. “You love my cock, huh?”

Breathless, you nod without words.

“And to think, just a year ago you were an innocent little prude. Now look at you, taking my cock like the slut you are. High on my drugs, fuck—” Mark taunts, moaning aloud as you suddenly clench around him. “Fuck, you feel so tight.”

When he adds his hands to your clit, rubbing the nub in circles the way he knows you love it, the pleasure is heightened for your sensitive body. Your temperature rises, your heartbeat uncontrollable—all the telltale signs of that euphoric high.

A few minutes pass like this, you completely out of it and moaning at the top of your lungs whilst your boyfriend fades in and out of your vision. You grasp onto his arm, tilting your head back. “Mark, I’m—I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” he musters out, never stopping his hips. “Cum for me. Cum all over my cock like the good girl you are.”

And you do, losing it as you tighten around his length, walls clenching repeatedly. This brings him over the edge, cumming into the condom with a shaky breath. He keeps the rhythm going for both your sakes, though his thrusts go erratic as he comes down.

You do the same, your thirty minutes of elation coming to an end soon. As soon as you’ve come down from your orgasmic high, you immediately relax. Your breathing is labored as you relax into his sheets.

Mark pulls from you with a low groan. By the time he’s tossed the condom off into the trash and returned to his bed, you’re already asleep, chest rising softly. A post-cocaine high can do that to you. A soft chuckle leaves his lips as he slides into bed with you, slipping a hand over your waist.

With the way your body fits right into his, one could say you were made for each other. In Mark’s mind, maybe you were.

—3 WEEKS, 6 DAYS CLEAN

His hands shake as he curls the wrapping paper, giving it a soft lick to secure it.

Tomorrow will be four weeks, a whole month since the last time he had done anything. He had passed his exams. After he had thrown the pills away, he was sure that everything would be smooth sailing. But he was wrong.

He’s disappointed in himself, he is. He wanted to be better, but it’s harder than it seems. Lucas would be disappointed in him. You would be too.

Luckily, neither will find out.

Right now he’s tucked in his bedroom away from Lucas with the excuse that he was napping, but he’s not. Instead, he’s wrapping a joint with the leftover weed tucked in his nightstand.

It’s not because he wants to, or because he’s being peer pressured by anyone around him. It’s for one person only—his dad.

On this day, five years ago, Pastor Lee passed away.

The first three years, the hardest ones, he had Lucas. The past two years, he had you.

No—the first three years weren’t hardest to face, this one is. He still has Lucas, but not really. Had he swallowed his pride, had he just told his best friend that he wasn’t okay when he had asked about his father’s death anniversary, things would have been okay. Lucas would have nodded in sympathy, then dropped everything he had to be there for Mark. They’d chill and drink a couple beers—no, not drink, not anymore—but maybe watch a movie and play some games until the day had passed. That would have been bearable.

But that hadn’t happened.

When Lucas had asked Mark how he felt about the day, Mark had lied and blubbered out a, “Oh, was that today? I totally forgot.” Why had he done that? He doesn’t know.

Because he had had too much pride to admit to his friend that he was struggling… Now he’s here, trying to take care of his pain in the only way he has left.

He lights it, fingers still shaking, and his body relaxes into the mattress as he finally gets a taste of the clouded, sinful smoke once more. The only downfall to this is that he knows, oh he knows well, just how much pain that it causes for him and those around him.

—THE FIRST BURN.

Over the years, Mark has grown accustomed to the warmth.

It’s what you do to him, what he associates you with. Your first kiss, despite the cold winter air, warmed his soul from the inside. Whenever he looks at you… there’s a feeling of espousement that explodes within his chest. Yes, he loves you, even if he doesn’t say it often. He doesn’t need to. You know. You’ve opened his eyes to the beauty of love, the exhilaration of showing yourself to someone and being fully accepted. In his life once frozen over with the loss of his father and the death of his innocence, you showed him warmth.

When he wakes, you’re burning up.

More than you should, even with the two of you naked beneath his blankets. You’re sweating, he realizes as he slides his hand, which he had slung around your waist as the two of you drifted into dreamland, over your skin.

You must be hot underneath the blanket, so he starts to slide it off the blanket from your figures. Then he hears it: you cough, the choked sound coming out scratched and labored. Though you’re turned away from him, he can hear the struggle in it. It’s as if… there’s something blocking your throat.

His eyes immediately widen, adrenaline spiking as he sits up, grabs your shoulders, and turns you around. No, no, it can’t be. Where you had been laying, facing the wall, there’s remnants of your vomit, though some had gotten lodged in your throat.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. His fingers grab your wrist. You’re still breathing. You’ve still got a pulse, but it’s fast, too fast. So fast, he can barely count it. “Shit,” he curses. You’re overdosing. You’ve overdosed. Fuck.

It’s the cocaine.

“Y/N,” he calls, voice already loud enough to make the house burst into flames with the amount of desperation he puts into it. Shaking your shoulders, he tries again. “Y/N, baby, fuck—wake up!” When you don’t come to, he turns his head over his shoulder, screaming, “Lucas!”

It’s only the early morning, will he be awake? “Lucas!”

“Mark…?” Your voice draws him out from his panic, and he turns to you with wide eyes. Your eyes, pupils dilated and shaky, fly all over the room. “W-What’s—” You don’t finish, because immediately you’re flinging yourself over the side of his bed and throwing up the remainder of what’s in your throat out on his bedroom floor.

The door slams open. Lucas’ worried face appears. Mark is trembling, breath shaking, and you’re still vomiting over the carpet. At the moment, Mark doesn’t care that the both of you are naked in his bed. “What the hell happened?”

Mark feels himself start to slip away, only a moment from hyperventilating, but he speaks. “Hospital… cocaine—overdose, I—”

“I’ll go start the car.” Lucas is immediately out the door, loud steps running down the hallway to grab his keys. At least somebody is in a stable state of mind. Mark starts to move, standing to dress the two of you, but you grab his arm as he steps out, perhaps using the last of your energy. Your eyes are wild, your mouth parted as you heave heavy, labored breaths.

“I… I can’t breathe—Mark, I can’t,” you start between hurried breaths, but don’t finish. Immediately you go slack, falling back in his bed with closed eyes rolled into the back of your head.

“Fuck,” he curses, immediately throwing on his jeans and sliding your dress over your sweltering body. Though he’s stumbling and racing to gather things, his phone, his wallet, and your’s, he picks you up into his arms bridal style, racing out of his bedroom into the living room.

Flying out the front door, the cold morning air greets him in an unpleasant fashion, only making your perspiring body seem even warmer, reminding him of his faults. Lucas is already sitting in the front seat, ready to go, but Mark throws the two of you in the backseat. At this point you’re completely gone to the world, head thrown back against the cushion as he struggles to put on your seatbelt. It seems like an arbitrary precaution in this case.

As Lucas starts to drive, moving as fast as he can possibly go, Mark clutches your hand. “Baby,” he finally breaths out as reality begins to set in. This is his fault, he did this to you. He doesn’t deserve to hold your hand, so instead he lets go, placing it in your lap before leaning forward to place his head in his hands.

“Oh my fucking god,” he finally lets out, exasperated.

—1 WEEK, 2 DAYS CLEAN

“My name is Hyunjoon, and I am addicted to alcohol. It has been… six weeks since my last drink.”

Mark bounces his leg erratically, glancing around the room. There’s some people he knows, recalling their faces on campus or around town, but some people he's never seen in his life. He’s supposed to reveal himself to these people? He doesn’t belong here.

Or maybe he does. After his last breakdown, it had taken him three days to fess up to Lucas. His friend, though disappointed, was more than understanding. “It’s a long road,” he had told Mark at the time. He said that he knew of an addiction support group in town, and encouraged Mark to attend. He’s right; Mark knows he can’t do this alone.

“Glad to see you’ve gone another week, Hyunjoon. Happy to see you back.”

He’s next, so he stands. “Um,” he starts, rubbing his nape and feeling awfully out of place. “I’m Mark, and I’m addicted to…” he sighs. “A lot of things.”

The kind looking leader of the meeting offers him a smile. “You can share if you’d like.”

He takes a deep breath. There’s so many people, so many eyes. “Mostly weed. I drink a lot, or I used to. I… I was trying to stop everything then I had a—” How to describe it? “Relapse, last week. I don’t think I can do this alone.”

“We commend you for your courage, Mark.” There’s a soft round of applause in the circle. The smiling leader then continues, “We ask everyone who is new to this group, ‘why.’ Why do you want to stop your addiction? Why do you seek help? Besides the obvious reasons that it’s bad for you.”

This question doesn’t take long for him to answer. “I hurt someone. Someone that I really loved, and honestly… I hate myself for it. So I have to stop.”

There seems to be a couple of nods around the circle as Mark sits back down. He releases a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. This will work. Things will be okay. He will get better. He will get you back.

“Thank you for that, Mark. Welcome.”

—THE FIRST REGRET.

Mark finds himself in the same position he had been in earlier in the car, except this time he’s sitting on the floor right outside your room on the hospital floor, hiding his head in his hands. What is wrong with him?

What had he done to you? What had he allowed you to do to yourself?

God, he’s fucked up.

Lucas is inside with you. He had wanted to be there when you woke up, but he couldn’t. He could barely look at his face in the hospital bathroom mirrors; how was he supposed to face you, IVs hooked up to your arms as a result of the drugs that he gave you? It was supposed to be fine, it was just a little bit! It was supposed to help the experience you two were having. But instead, it almost ended your life.

He looks back now. Just two years ago, when you had first met, you didn’t even drink. You’d never been kissed, never been touched. Now he’s… done this to you. He’s despicable. You don’t deserve him. You deserve better.

The door opens, and Mark finally pulls his head up to see Lucas step out with a somber expression. It’s a stark juxtaposition that saddens him, for Lucas is so often the light hearted joking one of the two. “She wants to see you.”

Mark parts his lips, shaky breath exhaling. “I can’t.”

Lucas takes a seat next to him on the floor, sighing. He probably looks crazy, shirtless and puffy eyed on the floor, but his best friend moves next to him anyways. “I know. She’s not angry, you know.”

“That’s the worst part,” mumbles Mark, staring out at the bleak white walls of the hospital in front of them. He doesn’t say much, but Lucas understands him it seems.

“Something’s gotta change, Mark. Something’s gotta give.”

He knows, with a soft nod of his head. Of course, he knows what Lucas means, but what it means to him is different. He has to give something up, and it’s going to be you. Not because he can live without you or because he doesn’t love you, but because it needs to be you. You can’t be around him any longer. You’ll only continue to be hurt.

When this thought finally occurs, and he accepts it, it becomes a little easier to face you.

He rises to his feet. “I’ll… I’ll see you later,” he finally says, twisting the doorknob to your room open.

—1 MONTH, 4 DAYS CLEAN

He doesn’t know why you asked to see him for lunch, but he does know that you look good. You look healthy, you look better than you did that day when he slipped into your hospital room and saw you there, laying lifeless and gray. But that day, you still smiled when you saw him.

You look rather happy, like you’re doing okay without him, though he hopes that’s not that case—no, that’s not a good thing to hope for. He hopes that you’re doing okay, but that you’ll be even happier when you’re together again. Again, you smile at him over your food. Even after all this time, you still look at him like he’s the center of your universe.

Though you had made small talk about your lives, what you were both doing, how your mom is, how Lucas is, and other unimportant things, it’s at the end of the meal when your voice finally sobers, though you keep a smile on your lips.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you out here.”

“I…” Mark starts, blinking, before nodding. “Yeah.”

You laugh, causing the slightest smile to break out across his lips. It’s still the same laugh you had, that fated night when you met. “I just wanted to see you again. And talk. We haven’t talked in a while.”

Mark’s smile turns into a bittersweet simper. “I thought that was because you didn’t want to talk.” Though you had spoken to him on that phone that one day, he had chalked that up to you being polite when he suddenly called.

“Well, at first, yeah, but you know it’s been almost a year since we broke up and… I had some things I wanted to tell you.” Him too, but he’s not entirely sure he’s at his best just yet. Nevertheless, he smiles and nods.

“I’m listening. You know I always am.”

You take a moment or two to simply stare at him with thoughtful eyes as you think over your words. All the while, your sweet smile never leaves your roseate tiers. Finally, hands folded over your lap, you start.

“Thank you.”

Mark blinks, but you continue. “I know that we didn’t end off on the best terms but I wanted to make sure you knew that I was thankful for you. For having you. You’ve done a lot for me. You’ve taught me a lot, and I can’t thank you more for everything you’ve done.”

You blink repeatedly, eyes fluttering before you continue, which leads Mark to think that these words might be just as emotional for you as they are for him. “Thank you for teaching me love. Because of you, I’ve grown a lot and become a better version of myself. A stronger one. I’m really thankful that you were my first everything: my first real date—” His mind flies back to that night. That movie really was a horrible movie.

“My first kiss.” Does it feel right, now? Yes. Can I kiss you? Yes.

“My first time.” It was awkward, but it felt, as it always did, right.

“Thank you, for being the first guy I loved. I really… really loved you, Mark. But most of all,” you say, gazing at his wordless figure with those eyes of yours. They’re not as innocent and naive as they used to be. They’re matured now, hardened, but still, the sparkle is there. The same sparkle that had attracted him that night, three years ago, with that damned white dress.

“I forgive you.” Mark releases a shaky breath. “For everything. I don’t want you to blame yourself anymore. It’s not your fault, really. I’m better now, I’m healthy. Please, don’t hurt yourself anymore because of me.”

“Y/N, I—”

“I met you in my first year here. We’re going to be seniors, Mark. We’re going to graduate and be thrown into the real world, where there’s real consequences. I don’t want the consequences of what happened to weigh you down. I just want to move on, and you deserve to move on too.” From the glint in your eye, it’s clear how long you’ve pondered over these words.

He wants to reach out to you, to grasp you and bring you back to him. Because he’s trying to let go of the past so that he can focus on loving you fully as you are.

Sure, you can forgive him, but he needs to forgive himself first. He’s not quite fully well yet. He has to be patient.

A soft exhale leaves his lips. “Thank you. For forgiving me.”

Yet another sweet, beautiful smile spreads across your lips. It’s the smile that haunts Mark’s dreams. “You’re welcome. And thank you again for everything.” As the waitress appears, returning Mark’s credit card that he had graciously used to pay for the meal, you stand with your bag.

No, you can’t be leaving just yet. “Stay in touch, okay, Mark?”

But he has to let you leave. The day will come when it’s right. “Yeah,” he manages, swallowing the lump in his throat. Yet as he watches you walk away, he can feel that that string of fate he had always believed tied the two of you together slowly wearing, twisting, breaking.

—THE FINAL TEAR.

“What do you mean we should break up?”

Your voice is scandalized, angry. Mark simply keeps his gaze to the living room floor, eyebrows furrowed in complete unhappiness. He never wanted it to end like this, but he’s run horrible with thoughts that the things he did brought pain to you. It’s time to end it. Not because he wants to, but because he should.

“We just should,” he responds bleakly. “After what happened, I think it’s clear that we’re not good for each other.”

It’s been a month now since you’ve been discharged from the hospital. After you had convinced your doctor that you weren’t addicted to drugs and in need of rehab, you had gone home. Mark had luckily had enough saved to pay off your hospital bills; neither of you wanted your parents knowing. “Mark, it’s okay. I told you it’s okay!”

“No, it’s not. It’s not just because of the overdose. Things have been like this for a while now.”

You attempt to grab his hand. If he allows himself to bask in just one moment of your kindness, he’ll give in. You beg, “Mark, please, hang on for me, for us. I promise things will get better, things can change.”

He snaps, pulling his hand from your’s. Your eyes widen up at him, shocked and appalled at his sudden movement. “No! Can’t you see? You didn’t even take that much. I took more coke in my first snort than you took in that entire line. The overdose shouldn’t have even happened, but look, it did. This is wrong.”

“What, the drugs? I’ve been telling you that. Please, we can get better. We can find help.” The fact that you’re still pleading him with kind, gentle eyes, makes this all worse. It only further proves that you’re good. He’s not.

“No, not the drugs. Us.”

“Us?”

He runs a hand through his dark hair, shaking his head in frustration. “We’re not right for each other. This isn’t working.”

“What do you mean? Tell me why.”

“We’re just not… destined to be together. What happened, it was God’s way of telling us that this is not right. We’re not right for each other,” he explains, voice exasperated as he tries his best to explain the mess of his thoughts.

This seems to take you aback, your voice finally rising. “Oh, so now you care what God thinks?”

No, not really. But sometimes he has to listen. He doesn’t respond, so you continue. “I’ve been more than willing to make this work for two years, Mark. You think any of this was easy for me? My first boyfriend and he’s a freaking drug dealer for God’s sake. I tried to take it all because I loved you! I took care of you when you were hungover, I waited around shady areas at night so that you could drop off deals, I stuck with you for everything. Fuck,” you shout, causing Mark to tense. You rarely curse, and based on your usage of it now, he knows just how upset you are. “I even overdosed and I’m still here. Yet it’s always you pushing me away, making it difficult. Why are you running away from us?”

He’s not running away. “I’m not running away,” he declares. “I’m letting you run away.”

“And what makes you think I need to run away from you?”

“Because! You heard yourself, don’t deserve those things. You should have someone to take care of you when you’re sick, not always be the one fixing me when I’m sick. You should have someone to walk with you through the shady areas. That’s not me. I’m not… right for you.” He finally spits it out, eyebrows tightened together as he releases the thoughts that have been on his mind for a month now.

You’re silent for a moment, taking in his words with your arms crossed over your chest. When you speak, your voice has returned to its normal speaking volume. “You told me that you believed in fate, that you believed in us. Is this fate? Fate that we met, and fell in love, and broke up? Is it fate that you hurt me over and over again and I came back, every single time? Because if that’s fate…” A single tear falls from your eyes, though you wipe it away so it’s as if it never even existed. It seems even you have some pride now, not to cry in front of him. “It seems like your idea of fate is pretty messed up.”

Mark takes a large breath, looking away to gather his thoughts before looking back to you. You’ve both come so far since that night, the image of her clouded by the purple lights, the energy of the party. Now, all that glamour is stripped away. It’s just you and him, as you are. “You had to meet someone like me, so you can know what you deserve.”

“So that’s it? You’re just going to call it quits, and blame it on destiny?” Your tone is mocking, questioning his reasons and probably his sanity.

“I’m not calling it quits,” he immediately retorts, responding sharp and quick. “I’m letting you go.”

“No,” you say as you approach him. “You’re giving up. On us, on everything we worked hard to build. Our trust, our relationship, everything.” Your finger digs into his chest, pointing an accusing blame. “I broke up with you,” you emphasize. “Not the other way around. I broke up with you because you tugged me around, you pushed me away, and you never listened to me. I got tired of it, and broke up with you.”

With that, you pull away from him, though when he finally comes to realize the weight of the conversation you just had, he sees you grabbing your bag and slipping your white ballet flats with purple bows on. “Y/N.”

He wants to say he’s sorry, because it wasn’t supposed to be like this. He hadn’t planned for the conversation to go up in flames.

Whenever you walked out during arguments, there was always a promise to call later, to talk when your minds were stable. But now, as you turn over your shoulder, walking out of his apartment and life, you muster a goodbye.

“Don’t call me.”

—3 MONTHS CLEAN.

“Senior year!” Lucas yells as he throws open the front door with the power of the Hulk, startling Mark who’s still unpacking some boxes of cookware in the kitchen. “It’s our time, time to shine!”

A soft laugh leaves Mark as he places some cups in the cupboard. He and Lucas had left their apartment for two months for the summer to return to their homes, but here they are, back and ready to take on their final year. They had finished middle school and high school together, and now they’ll graduate college together. It makes Mark smile.

As he leaves the kitchen to greet his best friend in the living room, he sees that the guy has already brought in a number of his boxes. “Hey, man,” calls Mark, who leads Lucas in for a dap.

“Hey yourself, you barely talked to me this summer,” Lucas chastises playfully. “Ignoring me, I see.”

Mark laughs, shaking his head. “Not ignoring, just… working on myself.”

“Good,” responds Lucas, turning to bring in the rest of his boxes. Yes, Mark had spent the entire summer dedicating himself to the lost cause that was himself. He started working out again, got a job, and even worked on rebuilding his relationship with his mother. Things were looking up for him.

He feels ready. Lucas’ voice interrupts his thoughts. “Hey, wanna take a break and get some food?”

His question meets a raised eyebrow from Mark. “You just got here, like, two minutes ago.”

“And?”

A laugh leaves Mark’s lips, and he shakes his head. “Nothing. But, uh, I can’t. I was going to go… see Y/N.”

“Oh?” asks Lucas, leaning down to tear the tape on one of the dark cardboard boxes filled to the brim, probably with Lucas’ pillows; the man was like a giant baby, sleeping with ten pillows. “You called her and asked to meet up?”

“No,” responds Mark, who follows these words with a deep breath. “I’m going to go see her.”

Lucas stands straight once more, his playful expression from earlier now serious. He shoots Mark a soft smile, patting him on the shoulder. “Nice. I’m happy for you. Are you leaving now?”

“Uh, yeah, I was planning to go after I put all the kitchen stuff away.”

Lucas’ grin grows even wider, stretching from ear to ear as he gives Mark a little pat on the bum, which is supposed to be encouraging. “Well, then go get her, tiger! Good luck, man,” he yells supportively as he pushes Mark out the door.

As he shuts the door, Mark blinks. “Dude! I don’t even have shoes on! Or my car keys,” he laughs, banging on the door.

Some time later, Mark finds himself hesitating as he parks his car a block down the street from your sharehouse, the same place he had kissed you, that many years ago. He doesn’t even know if you still live here. You had been broken up since the beginning of your junior year, who knows if you had decided to move out?

He contemplates this as he walks down the sidewalk to your place, hands in his pockets and gaze on the floor. Surely, if you’re not there, one of the girls will point him in your direction? Hopefully.

Oh, but you are there. As your home comes into view, he sees you. You’re there on the front porch, dressed in a simple white skirt and the same white ballet flats with purple bows that you can never seem to grow out of.

But you’re not alone.

There’s a man with you, though his back is turned to Mark’s view. He blinks. His steps stop completely. Surely it could be anyone right? A neighbor? A classmate?

But that’s impossible. Not because class doesn’t start for three days or because you and him met the neighbors on all sides of your house, but because you lean up on your toes, the way you always did with Mark himself, and kiss the stranger’s cheek.

It would have been easy to lie to himself, but then it’s much too clear. He realizes it then as he stares, only a few steps away from the path that would have led to your steps, the steps he took when walking you back on your first date, intertwined hands swinging between the two of you.

He’s too late. Maybe much too late.

He was a fool all this time. Thinking that he could be better for you, that he could defy fate with his free will and urge the universe into letting you be together. Lucas was wrong; life isn’t free will, neither is love.

This is his fate, there’s no use denying it.

He stands staring for a few moments, simply gazing in complete desolation at the sight before him. This is it, this is the end. He’s ready to submit to his poor fate, the internalized idea he’s housed that he’d never be able to find a love like yours ever again, but then you see him, probably because he stands out like a stain of black paint on the green canvas of your lawn.

He doesn’t hear you, but your lips form his name, “Mark?” and your eyes blink in confusion.

He doesn’t wait too long anyways, for he’s already turned on his heels back to his car. Fuck fate and its tendencies, giving hope where there will only be heartbreak.

—SOMEWHERE BETWEEN THE FIRST TEAR AND THE FIRST CRASH.

The smell of you invades his senses, but he doesn’t care. It’s one of the first nights in a long time where you’ve agreed to go to a party with him. Though other girls beg for his attention, he’s still only got his eyes on you. Your outfit tonight is much too nostalgic.

“You know,” he whispers in your ear, dancing against your backside with a hand on your waist. “You look best in white.”

“I know,” you respond, chuckling whilst dancing back against him. He had taught you how to dance a while ago, and you just keep getting better and better.

“You wore this dress on purpose, didn’t you, you little minx,” he teases, though a playful laugh leaves his throat. His words draw a knowing giggle from you, and Mark feels as though he could get drunk on the sound alone.

“Maybe,” you respond back, turning and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. This is when Mark gets a good look at you.

It’s so easy to remember the way you first appeared to him, standing awkwardly in a corner of a party just like this. This time the lights decorating the aura of this party are not purple, but his heart is all the same. You’re wearing the same outfit now, definitely at this point to tantalize him and tease him; you loved to make fun of him after he told you that he had fallen for you because of that dress alone.

But you’re different now.

You’re brighter, taller, more mature. Now you are not just your person carrying your own thoughts, but his as well. You know him, know his thoughts and his feelings, know his worries without asking. Your smile is bigger, it reaches your eyes more now than it did that first night, a forced simper at the strange guy coming to flirt with you. You dance with more confidence, you carry with yourself a quiet strength despite your hesitant nature.

He loves you. God, he loves you. He tells you just as much.

With a hand over your hip, he pulls you close. You think he’s going to press another tipsy kiss to your lips, but he doesn’t. Instead he brushes his lips to your ear and he whispers, so softly you would have missed it if you hadn’t been purposely filtering the party’s music to focus on his voice: “I love you.”

You blink, and stop your dancing. It’s the first time he’s ever said this to you.

“Mark…” you start, lips parting in surprise, but he’s pulled away to smile sweetly at you. It’s not flirtatious, the kind of smile he gives you before attempting to pull you in the bathroom for a quick one. Nor is it the knowing grin he shoots before guiltily asking you to go refill his drink. It’s a small one that barely touches the tips of his lips, and the look alone makes your heart melt in espousement. “I… I love you too.”

You had told him, of course, the other month when you had tore him apart in his bedroom after finding him hungover. But this time it’s real, and in the future you both will choose to remember this as the first time.

Some might think that it’s unorthodox to confess such strong feelings such as love in the middle of a party, sweltering with the heat of dancing bodies and the musky smoke in the air. But for the two of you, it doesn’t matter. It’s just you two in here; you only see each other.

—3 MONTHS CLEAN, ONE HOUR LATER.

Mark’s currently in his room, completely bare except for his bed and desk, sulking away. When he had returned home with a bitter lilt in his steps, Lucas didn’t need any explanation, stepping out to “meet Yuqi.”

Of course, it had been Lucas who had put him in this place of thinking he could get you back but in the end, it was only himself that he had to blame. He never had the chance, it was his fault for thinking he ever did.

He’s learned his lesson.

It’s only an hour later when Lucas knocks on the door again. Fuck, Mark thinks inwardly while rolling his eyes. It’s only the first day back, has this giant managed to lose his keys, again? He makes his way out to the door, already preparing to give Lucas hell for being so irresponsible, but Lucas never makes his appearance at the door.

“Y/N.”

“Mark, I’m sorry, but—”

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shown up at your place uninvited.” He’s quick to interrupt you, shaking his head. It’s easy to pretend to be strong; he just needs to maintain a strong front until he shuts the door again.

“It’s not that, I—”

“I won’t do it again, I promise. I know you said you wanted to move on and I shouldn’t be surprised, it just hurts to see it, and so, I’ll—”

“Mark—”

“I hope that you’re very happy, and that he can make you happier than I di—”

“That’s my brother, you daft idiot!” You finally cut him off, voice rising to a volume louder than his. He had flinched at your sudden peak in volume. You give him a pointed look, and when he doesn’t dare speak again, you continue. “That’s my brother, Mark. He helps me move in every year, you know that!”

That’s true, he does know that. And he’s met your brother many, many times. Shit, he realizes.

“... Oh.”

“Mark Lee, you think I could move on from you that quickly? It’s been like, two months!” You scold him, as if the idea is preposterous.

“Well,” he reasons. “Technically we broke up a year ago.”

You seem to have the energy to argue back. “Okay, but I only really let you go when school ended this year.”

The two of you stare at each other for a long moment following your words, before you both start to laugh. You crack first, trying to remain serious when all you want to do is envelope him in a hug, for how could you ever love anyone else? You can’t even imagine trying to date anyone right now. He follows right after, shoulders relaxing as you start to chuckle.

“We look insane right now, you know,” he says, sighing as his chortle comes to an end.

“Yeah, and I’m insane because I drove like a madwoman chasing after my ex because he saw me with my brother,” you say with a pointed tone, to which Mark sighs.

“Okay, in my defense, I saw him from behind, and you are awfully touchy with your brother!” He starts, when you begin to laugh again, pure amusement breaking out across your visage. Wow, just five minutes ago he had been regretting all his life decisions, yet here he was with you again, making conversations like you had years ago in your relationship.

When the laughter dies down, the two of you are left staring at each other, and reality sets in. Yeah, he had run away when he saw you with your brother of all people, and you had chased after him, your ex. Where does that place you?

Mark speaks first, breaking the short silence. “I’m sober now, you know. I haven’t done anything, anything at all, in three months now.”

Surprise seems to claim your face at the revelation, and he’s not sure if he should feel proud that he managed to shock you with his success or saddened that it seems to be that much of a surprise. “Oh?” Your surprised expression is replaced with a smile. “I’m proud.”

He nods, unsure what to say next, but luckily you add on, “What made you decide to stop?” You’re undoubtedly reminiscing on all the times you had begged him to give it up, to which he would stubbornly resist.

“You.”

Your features contort into an incredulous expression. “Me.”

“Really,” Mark urges. “I…” he pauses, preparing himself for the words about to leave him. He had long pondered over this moment, wondering if it would truly happen. “I lost you, and I know that I said it was because we weren’t meant to be together but somewhere along the line I realized, I can live without weed, and parties, and alcohol but I can’t live without you.”

“Mark…” You start, lips parted as you grow silent.

“No, please, let me finish, I don’t want to take all the credit because it was Lucas who had to come and knock some sense into me and make me see: sure, fate can be real and that soulmate shit might be real too because I believe you’re mine, but I know that everything is a choice, including love.” His mention of Lucas has you smiling, and he has no doubt Lucas has talked to you recently, attempting to be the middleman once more. “I love you, there’s no doubt about that, I love you more than I love partying, my friends, or anything. And if I love you that much, there’s nothing that can keep me from you.”

He grasps at your hands, and thankfully, you don’t pull away. “Not God, not fate, not anybody. Only me. I was the only thing keeping us apart. I want to be with you, I want to make things better, and I promise… I promise I’ll do everything in my power to be the best for you.” Mark takes a deep breath, taking a moment to glance down at his hands holding yours before looking back to your eyes. “I can’t promise that I won’t have relapses. But I promise that as long as you’re there for me, I will be there for you. I’ll walk you through the shady areas, I won’t run away.”

“Mark—”

“I don’t know if my words will be enough for you to take me back but I swear to you on my entire being that I will be here—”

“Geez, Mark does sobriety make you extremely prone to interrupting, or what?” You butt in, but you laugh, looking up at him with sparkling eyes. Whether it’s you natural shine or tears building in your eyes, neither of you know. “Don’t even go there, or explain anymore. Of course I’ll take you back, you idiot. You think I would chase after you like that if I didn’t think about running back to you every day?”

This causes him to laugh. “I’m glad you didn’t. I wasn’t ready. I was waiting until I was good enough to run to you.”

“You ran away earlier,” you point out teasingly, and he rolls his eyes, pulling you close over the threshold of his apartment.

“That was the last time.”

Your hands find his chest, resting upon the expanse of it as you look up at him with a cheeky smile. “Better be, mister.”

“Oh,” he muses, as you wrap your fingers around the fabric of his shirt and all feels right again. “You’re bold.”

“A year apart does that to you,” you smile, still a hint of shyness on your lips as you finally tug him in, kissing him. You melt into him and his hands immediately find themselves on your hips, just where they belong.

Oh yes, there it is again, that feeling of euphoria. You’re the only drug, the only high he needs.

#NCT-WRITERS #mark lee angst #mark lee smut #mark smut #mark lee x reader #mark lee fanfic #nct angst #tw: smut #tw: drugs #tw: drinking

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eunoiaflow3r · 3 years

Text

i hate u, i love u // spencer reid x fem!reader

spencer reid x reader

aaron hotchner x reader

part one - part two

a/n: did i damn near put this entire song in this fic? yes, yes i did i’m so sorry....highly unedited.

how was your guys’ holiday?

warning(s): language. angst. fluff....

word count: 2.6k

request(ed): yes.

summary: old things try to get fixed, while new feelings and places...arise and get mixed.

(wtf am i dr. seuss now??)

——————————————&———————————

feeling used, but i’m still missing you. and i can’t see the end of this, just wanna feel your kiss, against my lips

and now all this time, is passing by.... but i can’t seem to tell you why. it hurts me every time i see you realize how much i need you...

Seeing Spencer and actually letting all of that out did a number on you. You apologized to Aaron countless times and he said it was okay countless times but you still felt so bad. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve your drama, and not to mention how embarrassing it’s been. You felt like you ruined his whole night. It was supposed to be fun and yet you didn’t have any. He said he did but you know Hotch didn’t.

You’d have to make it up to him somehow soon but you didn’t know how. How are you supposed to fix this? Any of this??

It feels like you’re being sucked into the eye of a tornado little by little and you just can’t get out. It feels like everyone else is safe on the ground feet planted and they’re all just staring at you and laughing. Staring and not helping.

Your chest hurt. You hated feeling like this. So helpless...and stuck. You were stuck and not ready to fix it...well...part of it. You could still fix one thing. You didn’t have to be stuck here. Here in this small apartment with no room for anything let alone breathe. You needed space. You needed change. You needed control. Everything is spinning in circles and there’s nothing you can do about it. You can’t stop it.

So why not do something that could help you? That you’ve been meaning to do but never had the time for?

Apartment searching. Well...bigger apartment searching.

Where you were staying now was a studio apartment. You loved the open concept except for how small it was. You just need room.

Before...

“I like it here. It’s so small and cute.”

You could tell cute was a foreign word to Spencer when it came to describing a building. But he was trying. You thought he was cute.

“Thanks Spencer but I’m thinking something different. Maybe another bedroom for a roommate...or just a bigger one for y’know...another person.”

You never really brought up the idea of moving in together before. Sure, it’d be easier...his job was nearby, and there was a bus stop at the end of the street, and there was you....so his reaction kind of put you...off.

“Roommate sounds good. One of your friends maybe? Although I wouldn’t want her to y’know...interrupt us.” He had that cute seductive tone to his voice but he wasn’t sounding very cute and seductive.

You weren’t going to argue. “Yeah...a roommate. Who do you think I should ask?” you paused. “Sara or Malia?”

Spencer was quiet for a moment, like he was thinking. “Malia maybe?”

You didn’t have a friend named Malia.

And that’s what hurt the most you think. The fact that you still thought about him 24/7 even though what you had with him wasn’t perfect. You thought it was before..you thought he was before..but now you’re realizing nothing about it was perfect but at least it was something. Now you have nothing.

It was only the afternoon so you decided to look for some places. You found 3 places suitable for what you were looking for. All 3 were good sizes, good prices, and a good amount away from your job and college. You felt almost lucky. This felt almost too easy.

Until you saw the first two places in person. They were okay, but not really what you were looking for.

The last place though...the place was great, the location was great, the neighborhood was great, hell even the yard. Hell, you’d have no use for it, you didn’t have a kid but it was still a nice looking yard. You could tell that someone in the apartment, hopefully your new neighbor, took great care of the gardens.

You looked around at the surrounding mix of apartments and houses (mostly houses) and saw 2 little kids playing in the house 2 houses over. One of them looked like Jack. It couldn’t be, right? Hotch’s house wasn’t over here.

Nevertheless you watched for a few seconds and it was Jack. You decided to go over and say hi.

Jack stopped playing and immediately ran towards you.

“Y/N!!” He grinned. You got down to his level and hugged him back just as enthusiastically.

“Hey Jackie! Whatcha doin?” He only let you call him that. Only you.

“Sleepover. This is Sam. It’s almost time for Ana to drop me off at home though.”

You said hi to Sam and asked if Ana was his mom. She was and as soon as you told Sam your name, Ana came out of the house and waved you over.

“Hey, I’m Y/N. Friend of Jack’s and Hotch.”

She smiled. And shook your hand.

“I’m Ana. I’ve heard about you! Jack talks about you quite a lot.”

You and Ana talked for a while. She seemed like a really amazing person. If you end up getting the place you could see you and her becoming great friends, and since she seemed really busy you offered to take Jack home. She protested but you insisted. It wasn’t like you were doing much anyway. The landlord had already left and you were just going to go home anyway.

On the way to Hotch’s you bought Jack his favorite ice cream. You couldn’t help it.

The whole car ride Jack’s conversation thankfully distracted you but when you got to his house you couldn’t help but remember that night and how embarrassed you felt.

Seeing Hotch only made it worse. Especially since he wasn’t wearing his work clothes- just a shirt and sweatpants, and you couldn’t help but look because he looked incredibly.....good. He looked so great and you were so mad at yourself for how that night ended with him. You were supposed to be having fun and neither of you did.

He hugged you when you got to the door anyway. You explained to him what happened- even the apartment searching while he invited you in for coffee.

A whole year with Spence and he never invited you in. Ever.

Do you miss me like I miss you? Fucked around and got attached to you Friends can break your heart too And I’m always tired but never of you

If I pulled a you on you, you wouldn’t like that shit I put this reel out, but you wouldn’t bite that shit I type a text but then I never mind that shit I got these feelings but you never mind that shit

“Mom, please, I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong.”

Your mom gave you a look over her mug that said, ‘Do I look like I’m dumb?’ And she wasn’t. Perhaps you weren’t any good at hiding your feelings. Could everyone tell?

You were doing better now.

It’s been a month? Maybe two.

Either way it’s been a while and you weren’t as hurt as you were before. Some nights you woke up heart aching, tears falling, but you aren’t as bad as you were those first few weeks.

Truth is, you missed Spencer. You spent those weeks blaming yourself and wondering why you why you?

But you accepted that you weren’t ready for that answer. A part of you had forgiven Spencer. A part.

You were still heartbroken. You were still angry and hurt. But you’ve been trying to move on. In fact, you’d be moving entirely. Yesterday you finished all the paperwork with your new landlord. You were going to finish packing after visiting your mom.

“Momma I’m fine there’s just a lot going on right now.”

She wouldn’t accept that answer. She persisted you told her what was wrong. So you did. You told her about Spencer...and about Hotch...

Aaron.

You had been spending some weekends with him. Some were alone, just the two of you, and other times it was the three of you. Him, Jack, and you. Whenever you thought about Hotch you had the feeling in your stomach you got whenever you heard from Spencer.

But you still have that feeling for Spencer.

Things were so confusing right now - you weren’t sure if you wanted to move on from Spencer. You didn’t want to rush in with Aaron either though. That’d hurt the both of you.

Last weekend...

“Y/N you cannot tell me you think New Girl is better than Friends.”

Aaron was in a gray shirt and sweatpants while you were in relatively the same. You both sat together on his couch each a cup of coffee in your hands. You had promised you’d help him shop with Jack for new clothes and you had just agreed to stay the night since it had gotten so late.

“Oh a hundred percent. New Girl is way better.”

Hotch laughed.

“Friends is a classic. There wouldn’t be a New Girl without Friends.”

“There wouldn’t be a Friends without Living Single Aaron.”

He rolled his eyes but conceded. “True but still. Friends is better.”

You hadn’t been that happy in a while. You were breathing...you were living. Out in the open. Unbidden.

You ever wonder what we could have been? You said you wouldn’t and you fucking did Lie to me, lie with me, get your fucking fix Now all my drinks and all my feelings are fucking mixed

Always missing people that I shouldn’t be missing Sometimes you gotta burn some bridges just to create some distance I know that I control my thoughts and I should stop reminiscing But I learned from my dad that it’s good to have feelings

There was a bottle of liquor in your hand

You would have gone to the bar but you were too sad for it. You didn’t have the will.

Earlier today you decided that you should get a muffin from the coffee shop and see how Em was doing. Right when you got to the door, who was in the window caught your eye.

Spencer.

Spencer and JJ.

Laughing, and eating, and kissing...

In the open. Out in public.

Were you just not good enough? Was that it? Could you not understand him because you didn’t work in the BAU? Was what you had all one sided?

Unanswered questions and half a bottle later you were passed out on your couch crying.

You thought you were over it for sure this time. But it still fucking hurts. Is keeping your heart open waiting for him even worth it?

The next morning you took a hot shower. The hottest shower you could handle. You were hungover, and you felt like shit but you still had to pack the rest of your things to move. You still had to move.

Your speakers were on the highest level and your music was so loud you didn’t hear the door knock. You only screamed when you felt someone behind you.

It was Aaron.

“Jesus christ!!” You went to turn down the music.

“You could have killed me!”

“Yes I very well could have!” His arms were crossed. He was upset but still in a playful mood. You could tell. “I could have been a serial killer, you have to lock your doors!”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, okay, I’ll lock my doors next time.”

He nodded approval as you went to the refrigerator to get him a bottle of water.

“What’s going on?”

“Oh I didn’t tell you?” How had that slipped your mind?

He shook his head.

“I’m moving.”

“You’re moving?” He looked disappointed.

“Yeah not far. A few houses down from Ana actually.”

“Oh good.” He said relieved.”

After that, he decided he wanted to help you. It was nice not being alone even though you told him he didn’t have to stay. He wanted to.

He even helped you transfer the boxes to your new apartment. You didn’t know Aaron had a voice on him...but he did.

“We built this city!” he sang/shouted.

“We built this city on rock and -“

“We built this city!” he answered.

“We built this city on rock and -“

“Rollllllllll” you sang together.

You giggled when the song was over and he grabbed your hand for the rest of the drive. You didn’t pull away. It felt too nice. It felt too right.

After helping you put your boxes into your next place it was time for him to head home. He told you that he could stay and help some more if you wanted but you could tell he was tired. You were tired. You told him you’d call if you needed any more help.

He made you promise you would because he knows you won’t if you feel like you absolutely can do it yourself even when you shouldn’t.

You promised.

On his way out there was a moment where you could have kissed him. Where you were saying goodbye and you were in the doorway and you were close enough to...but you didn’t. You weren’t ready. He knew you weren’t ready. He knew.

The feelings you have for Hotch keep growing but the feelings you have for Spencer stay the same. Spencer used to be your everything. But you weren’t his. You needed someone who would put you first. Well...close to first. Jack should always come first. Always.

You need to come first when it comes to women. Spencer didn’t put you first. Would he ever?

All alone I watch you watch her Like she’s the only girl you’ve ever seen You don’t care you never did You don’t give a damn about me

Yeah, all alone I watch you watch her She is the only thing you ever see How is it you never notice That you are slowly killing me?

Your phones ringtone was blaring and when you opened your tired eyes to read the time on your bedside table it read ‘3 AM.’ Who would call this late? Or...early? Either way you didn’t check the screen and just decided to click green and put the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” Your voice was groggy and you were a little annoyed to be woken up so early. It’s rude to do that to someone. Especially someone who only went to bed three hours ago.

“Y/N.” It wasn’t a question and it wasn’t in command. It was a sigh of relief followed by sniffles and a hiccup. It was Spencer.

“I didn’t think you’d pick up.” he said.

“You’re lucky I didn’t check my screen I should just -“

The only form of communication you’ve had with him since the incident was a few texts. Dry texts. On both ends.

“No!” he panicked. “Please don’t hang up please, please, I - I couldn’t sleep.”

You shut your eyes in frustration. “You called me at three in the morning because you couldn’t sleep?”

“No, I - I’m apologizing because I couldn’t sleep, no I - I’m apologizing because I was - I don’t know -“

“Spencer I really don’t have time for this. I have things to do tomorrow. What’s today Tuesday? We’ll have coffee or something Friday, okay?”

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds. “I have a date, no I mean plans Friday..uhm, Sunday?”

“Sunday.”

And you hung up the phone. You didn’t mean to sound bitter, you didn’t but seriously? You were actually willing to see him for once - maybe a decision your unconscious, pining, mind made - but still, and he can’t because of a date? A date?

With JJ no doubt. Of course it was JJ. It’s always been JJ. Every single time. “I can’t today Y/N JJ needs,” or “JJ called I gotta go,” or “Shoot I’m sorry I know we had plans but JJ -“

Will it always be JJ? Will she always be number one? Has she always been number one and you just never realized it? Have you been the girl he just hung out with because he couldn’t with her?

A few months ago...

“I bought chinese.” You grinned.

“Smells so good.” Spencer took the bags from your hands and kissed you on the cheek.

Spencer picked the movie this time since you picked it last time. He was sitting in the middle of the couch while you had your legs draped across his. Occasionally he’d bring his hand down to rub your legs.

Things were fine. Things were content. Until his phone rang.

“Y/N, It’s JJ I have to go.”

“What does she need?” you ask genuinely worried.

“Nothing I don’t think. I just gotta go.”

I hate you, I love you I hate that I love you You want her, you need her And I’ll never be her

———————————-—&—————————————-

i literally have no idea what this is i -

team hotch or spence?

if you have any ideas or scene ideas PLEASE tell me

i’m really trying on this happy ending thing

a spencer apology/talk scene is cominggg

i’m liking the idea of two endings? maybe?

spencer tag list: @hotchsbabygirl @pinkdiamond1016 @thefemalestorywriter @sizzlingclamturtlesludge @samyilf123 @mathchampagne @studywithrosie01 @reniescarlett @drreidsconverse @eveliiinnn27 @bweakmybonez

comments tag list: @yeah-just-ignore-me-thanks @geekgirleve @jhiddles03 @carlgrxmes @dreatine @meowiemari @thedaughterofhotchniss @we-are-dreamers42 @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @silverchains9182 @realalpacorn @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @matthew-gray-g @minami97 @mgg-th1996 @peculiarinsomniac @secondratecomplaint @fallinallinmendes @fantastic-fans @eldahae @psych0crybaby @tclaerh @ashwarren32 @spenciegoob @mustbeaweasleyginger @abschaffer2

408 notes · View notes

doublekrecs · 4 years

Text

ethanol (k. tetsuro)

synopsis: your lab partner in chem is annoying.

word count: 4.2 k

college!au, barista!akaashi, e2l, mean!kuroo, meg thee stallion stan!atsumu fem!reader

warnings: a lil angsty, swearing, nsfw, smut, some semi x reader smut, fingering, oral, face sitting, drunk sex, drinking, mentions of weed, degradation, hate sex??, unprotected sex, overstimulation, a lil breathplay?

walking into a stem class, especially chemistry, you expected at least a few girls to be in there with a male majority. it’s not that you didn’t get along with boys, in fact, your best friends were men themselves. but being a girl in a science class meant constantly being talked down upon, sometimes sexualized by some weird ass incels.

so when you walked into your small class as the only girl who knew no one with nowhere to sit, you settled for the next best thing: sitting next to a guy who had seemingly okay vibes. and you spotted exactly that. you couldn’t deny that he was kind of hot, a little rugged looking with his messy rooster hair. though he was only sitting down, you were also able to tell he had some height on him.

you took your seat next to him and waited in silence for the professor to start the class. this class is only a semester long. this repeated in your head like a mantra. one semester. one semester. and it’s next to a seemingly normal hot guy. you could do this. as the professor got right into the topic, you got to work right away. notes were scribbled, important topics were highlighted, your focus completely spent on the class.

“god, your perfume reeks. what did you do? dump the whole bottle?”

you looked to your left. gears were turning in your head and you felt yourself tense at the sound of his first spoken words. are you fucking serious? yeah, you liked your vanilla scented perfume. bokuto did, too. hinata loved it. akaashi was indifferent, but he never said anything negative. one semester, you repeated to yourself. one semester.

“your hair looks like absolute shit, but you don’t see me complaining about it.”

and that was your first impression of kuroo tetsuro, your lab partner. a complete asshole.

“and he fucking asked me if i dumped a bottle of perfume on myself! i’m not going to survive this semester with this rooster bitch.”

you sighed loudly and turned to bokuto and hinata who listened intently. while you came down from your red, hot anger, the faces of these two angels helped you feel good again.

“i’m sorry, (y/n), but there’s this one guy in my math class you might get along with. he said he was taking the same chem class, so just tell me when you need help,” bokuto responded, putting his arm around you, “but for now, it’s dinner time.”

“from where?”

“osamu. hinata won a bet against atsumu and now we have free onigiris.”

hinata snickered in the kitchen while akaashi typed away on his laptop. your roommates really were the sweetest.

for the next two weeks, the class slowly started more and more labs. you and kuroo mostly stayed silent unless you needed to talk about what to do with various liquids or what solid formed from what. it was okay like this. he was tolerable, except when-

“you’re off by one mililliter.”

“what?”

“you heard me, you’re off by a milliliter.”

you turned to kuroo and your sight is met with his usual stoic expression, “does it even matter? this is a huge beaker and one milliliter is like nothing compared to the rest of the solution.”

“you want to get consistent results, don’t you? so stop being sloppy or else we’re both going to fail this class. you can’t treat this class like the way you treat your perfume.”

shock took over, then boiling anger.

“sloppy? you come here looking like a fucking rooster.”

“what do you mean?”

“have you brushed your fucking hair in the last 3 years? have you looked in the mirror?”

just one semester. one semester.

you calmly composed yourself, remembering that bokuto and hinata had planned a movie night. you can get through this stupid class period. -

“and he lost his shit over one fucking milliliter! can you believe it?”

akaashi listened as he poured the milk into your coffee. you always liked to visit the cafe during the slow hours to check up on your roomie. plus, the quiet atmosphere, the smell of pastries, and akaashi’s pretty face was the perfect setting for ranting about your stupid fucking lab partner.

“i don’t know, (y/n). he’s a bit of an asshole, but maybe he’s just meticulous. it could be a good thing, you know.”

“metic-a-what? i need you to translate your big boy vocabulary, kaash.”

“you know i hate that nickname.”

“yet you have no problem when bokuto calls you that. you’re warming up.” he sighed in response while you gave a toothy grin back up at him.

“you got me there. but what i’m trying to say is that he pays attention to small details. he looks at little intricacies, especially in your assignments.”

“intri-ca-what?”

the next month of chem went by fast. you and kuroo had little snarky remarks here and there, but nothing too bad. he was just less of an asshole for right now.

you sat in your usual spot with the same scent of vanilla lingering on you since the first day of school. the class period went by with the usual routine: notebook? check. pen? check. highlighters? check. asshole lab partner? check. until halfway through the lecture-

“shit.” the highlighter ink was running low, your notes were getting less and less vibrant. while you knew highlighting signified some kind of shallow understanding of the subject, color coding helped you organize your thoughts.

you made a note to yourself to buy a new pack the next day.

but then the next day came and there was already a new one at your desk. midliners, in fact, the ones with prettier colors. the ones that were slightly more expensive than your usual ones with a post it note that read your name on it. you had no problem with accepting this anonymous gift, picking it up with admiration shining in your eyes. now you can continue class with your usual routine: notebook? check. pen? check. highlighters? check. asshole lab partner? check.

“so no one was going to tell us that we were going to throw a party tonight?”

akaashi spoke sternly to the two children on the couch while you prepared some snacks. for a party. that you discovered was happening tonight. ten minutes ago.

“aghaaashi, we haven’t thrown one in awhile. plus, it’s been awhile since all of us drank together.” bokuto whined. hinata had his full puppy dog eyes on as if he was a little boy begging their dad for a puppy.

“fine. but if anyone throws up, you guys are the ones cleaning the bathroom.”

while akaashi turned around, the children celebrated by excitedly putting out their drinks. this was going to be a long night.

there’s some whores in this house. there’s some whores in this house. there’s some whores in this house.

dim lights? check. henny and sprite? check. meg thee stallion? check. the basic tools necessary for a fun night.

tsumu drunkenly held onto you as if you were some kind of pillar. who knew it only took a few shots for such a big man to lose his ability to walk straight?

“(y/n)!!! wap is playing!!!”

“i know, baby, it’s your song!!”

“i know damn well flattykawa isn’t stealing the fucking show!! hold my drink, babe.”

that’s when you kissed his cheek good luck and your buddy disappeared onto the dance floor. and your eyes were met with the sight of a pretty boy staring at you.

“kaashi, who’s that?” your roommate turned to you, the pretty boy, then back to you.

“semi eita. he was in one of my literature classes. he was also on the volleyball team at shiratorizawa in high school.”

“the one with big daddy ushiwaka?”

“yeah,” he grimaced, “he’s in a band now.”

“A BAND??”

“you know what? just remember to use protection-“

kaashi was interrupted by the sight of tsumu throwing it back to hinata. the tangerine haired child really was doing his best, but tsumu was a big man. although, he really did show oikawa up.

“shoyo is so small. is he going to be okay?”

“not my problem.”

your focus went back up to the blondish grey haired musician. ruffled hair, cuffed jeans, a loose shirt. semi eita. huh. you took your last sip and discarded the red solo cup. you took another peak at him. bedroom eyes.

“hey, (y/n), the guy in my math class just got here- oh.”

“i’m gonna have to meet him some other time, bokuto.”

kuroo poured himself another drink and immediately found bokuto full of energy and red faced from the alcohol. a hyena laugh filled the room at the sight of hinata and tsumu, until he scanned the rest of room and saw you. in the hallway. with some guy with grey hair. who you led to an empty room. his heart dropped a little, but he didn’t know why.

“hey, my roommate is kinda busy right now so i can’t really introduce you two,” bokuto apologized, “why do you look like that?”

“like what, owl head?”

“sad.” he spoke with concern.

“oh, i thought i saw this one girl from one of my classes. but it doesn’t matter. let’s go drink.”

not even ten minutes later, you were in your bedroom with the pretty grey haired musician, most of your clothes already on the floor. you straddled him and cupped his face as his lips met yours, then your neck, then your shoulder.

his fingers found their way into your panties, quickly finding your clit as he sucked the sweet spot on your neck.

“s-semi.” you whined, grinding on his hand.

“you wanna cum on my fingers first, babe?”

you nodded quickly, lips once again meeting his. he laid you down on your bed, head resting in the crook of your neck. you felt two fingers enter you as semi curled them, his thumb rubbing your clit. the pace was agonizingly slow, but the more vocal you were, the more he sped up.

“you’re so fucking wet, baby. you’re so fucking tight.” he mumbled in your ears.

his mouth made contact with your nipple, swirling his hot tongue over the hardened bud. his mouth continued to move south, eventually replacing his thumb. you felt his tongue circle your clit quickly as his fingers continued the assault on your g spot. you clenched around his fingers, letting out small whines as the coil in you began to tighten.

“i’m going to cum, semi.” you breathed out.

he let out a low groan of affirmation, “don’t hold back, then.” his fingers began to move faster, your g spot being hit even harder. his mouth was back on your clit, sucking the small nub harshly. your thighs began to shake as his fingers fucked you through your high.

he pulled his fingers and his mouth met yours once again, your teeth pulling on his bottom lip. his fingers were brought up to your lips and you sucked on them greedily. this was going to be one hell of a night.

the crackling sound of the oil filled your ears as akaashi cracked some eggs onto the pan. the smell of food and coffee drifted in the apartment. the morning after was always nice for you two since you guys rarely drank a ridiculous amount of alcohol. sure, you had to take out some trash and clean up here and there, but surprisingly, no one threw up last night.

“when do you think bokuto and hinata are going to wake up this time?” you asked sipping your coffee while akaashi added rice onto the pan.

“hinata’s awake, he just feels like shit. bokuto fell asleep in the bath tub, so you know the drill.”

you nodded, walking up to the fridge to make your classic hangover concoction. as if on cue, bokuto walked into the living room with his fingers pressed onto his temple and hair looking all sad.

“good morning, you baby.”

“you hooked up with semi, didn’t you?” bokuto responded with a smirk on his face.

“i did what?”

and that was the moment semi decided to emerge from your bedroom shamelessly. his hair was messy, his clothes were all disheveled, and the memories from last night hit you all at once. you didn’t even notice that he was sleeping next to you in your bed when you walked straight to the kitchen for breakfast.

“morning.” he smiled at you and gave you a peck on the cheek. bokuto snickered while akaashi was unphased by the interaction.

“morning.” you responded, your face getting hot as you recalled the events of last night. he was good. very good. you couldn’t deny the fact that he had some talented fingers. and a pretty good stroke game.

“you want any coffee?” akaashi offered, as semi headed towards the door.

“no, i’m good. i’m supposed to eat breakfast with wakatoshi.” he replied groggily. semi let out a yawn and bid bokuto and akaashi a farewell before he pulled you aside.

“thanks for last night. call me if you want to do it again some other time. or not.”

you nodded, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks as he left.

“(y/n), you fucking asshole!! you were supposed to get with the guy in my math class!! i knew him in high school he’s a big sweet nerd!” bokuto whined.

“yeah, yeah, i’ll meet him when there’s another party. me and semi were just a one time thing.” you brushed him off as you put all the ingredients in the blender for the hungover children.

“all of you are going to have to collaborate with your partner for this lab report.”

you threw your head back with a silent groan. this was going to be a long assignment. you looked to the asshole on your left. his face was expressionless as he looked back at you.

“i know you despise me, but we both want an A on this.”

you couldn’t disagree with him. he had become more tolerable the past few months, often lending you notes that you had missed with the addition of some snarky comment. plus, you often got good scores on your assignments, some of his insight being helpful. at this point, you had developed the habit of going to the cafe akaashi worked at after to rant. he would make you some coffee, lend you some advice, and calm you down as you ranted about your asshole lab partner. it was a whole routine.

“fine. the cafe after class. my friend works there and it isn’t too crowded.”

“okay.”

the rest of the class period went by in the blink of an eye and you finally found yourselves entering the small shop. the scent of coffee and pastries filled your nostrils and a sense of happiness and familiarity flowed through your veins.

“kuroo?” akaashi furrowed his eyebrows.

“kaaaashi!!” he responded excitedly, “i didn’t know you worked here.”

“well, i gotta make money somehow. plus, (y/n) here likes to snag some free coffee during my shifts.” akaashi narrowed his eyes at you.

“wait, you two know each other?” you asked. how did this asshole know your sweet, stoic roommate?

“our volleyball teams played a lot in high school. i used to practice with bokuto and akaashi. you’re their roommate?”

the barista nodded as he prepared your iced coffee, “i was just at your party a week ago. small world.”

kuroo looked at you and the puzzle pieces came together in his head. so this was the cute roommate bokuto boasted about. not bad.

“how do you two know each other?”

“he’s my lab partner.” you grumbled quietly.

“you wanna say that a little louder, sweetheart?”

you flinched at the nickname while kaashi tried his best to hide a smile. it was a small world indeed.

the next few hours were spent sitting across from kuroo, entering data, highlighting important results, interpreting the recorded numbers. it was plain busy work in a cafe, but it oddly felt warm. when it came to writing about applications, kuroo seemed a little better than just tolerable. you would have an idea and he wouldn’t shut it down. instead, he engaged in them and spoke with intent. you would make a small connection to an environmental solution and his face would light up and his eyes would widen in excitement. the input that followed was filled with insight and it almost felt like his heart would pour out. he really did live and breathe chemistry. it was nice to see someone just as passionate as you are.

the bell of the cafe rang signifying another customer. you instinctively looked up, your face immediately lighting up.

“tsum-tsum!!” you jumped excitedly, “i haven’t seen you since you threw back to hinata bokuto’s party!!”

“please do not remind me,” he said with a disappointed sigh, but quickly turned back to his trademark smirk, “but did i look better than flattykawa?” he asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“no.”

“wow, that was cold.”

while tsumu ordered his muffin, you let kuroo know that you were going to take a small ten minute break to catch up with tsumu to which he responded with a grumble.

you quickly got up and sat at another table with tsumu, quickly catching up about the past week and telling him all about kuroo.

“ooo (y/n), you wanna kiss him so bad? he probably wants it, too. i can feel his death glares.” tsumu said with a wide grin and raised eyebrows.

“what? no! that’s my asshole lab partner!” you whisper yelled back.

“whatever you say. the fact you two hate each other thickens the sexual tension, baby girl,” tsumu stood up and placed a kiss on your cheek, “remember to come to my volleyball game on friday, there’s gonna be a party at later that night. i’m sure bokuto told you already.”

you nodded and pulled him into a hug before he left.

“so miya atsumu, huh?” kuroo spoke up as you returned with your iced coffee.

“what about him?”

“you’re dating? i don’t see another reason to waste time that could be used on a project that’s worth a good chunk of our grade.” he replied snarkily.

“he’s a friend, i don’t see why you need to be a dick about me wanting to catch up with a friend.” your head hurt. fifteen minutes ago, he was sweet and insightful. but now, he was a cold asshole again. what the fuck was this guy’s problem?”

“well maybe you should stop slutting around with your ‘friends’ while we’re supposed to be working.” you scoffed. slutting around? is he fucking serious?

“i can’t believe i thought you were a sweet person for a few hours. i can’t stay here if i’m just going to get slut shamed for the rest of our work time. i’ll see you in class tomorrow, you fucking asshole.”

you got up and checked up on akaashi who was already clocking out. he was going to get an earful on the way home tonight.

“(y/n), you better not hook up with anyone tonight. you’re meeting my classmate tonight and i don’t want to have to tell him that you were ‘busy’ again.” bokuto pointed at you with a stern look on his face.

“yeah okay, ko.”

“good.”

you walked out to the living room with some light makeup and a skirt. hinata’s eyes lit up as he sped towards you. akaashi rolled his eyes while bo coughed.

“(y/n), you look so pretty!! when did you get that skirt? oh my!!” hinata poked and bombarded you with compliments and questions like the sweet child he is.

“(y/n), why are you wearing your horny stress outfit?” akaashi asked, glaring at the skirt.

“my what?”

“whenever you want to relieve some stress by hooking up with someone, you wear a skirt, dummy,” bo explained, “oh no. the victim better be my math buddy.”

you huffed. sure, they weren’t wrong, but still.

“is this about your lab partner?” akaashi questioned, pulling you aside from bokuto and shoyo.

“maybe,” you paused, “okay, yeah, but there’s been so much tension after that incident and i hate it. it’s stressing me out and the project is due in a few days. let me hook up with bo’s friend.”

“fine.”

dim lights? check. henny and sprite? check. meg thee stallion? check. the basic tools necessary for another fun night. now, you were just waiting for bo’s nerd friend to appear.

“tsum tsum!!” you yelled happily, immediately jumping into the arms of one of your best friends.

“i’m glad you made it, (y/n), i missed your ass,” he kissed your cheek, “so who’s the victim tonight?”

“bo’s friend if he’s into that. i’m supposed to be meeting him here.”

“ohhh, the nerdy one, right?”

you nodded while taking a sip of your drink. you already felt more relaxed from the environment of the party. plus, a faint scent of weed filled your nose. it was probably from suna.

“kuroo-san!!” bokuto called out. wait. did you hear him correctly?

“bokuto-san!!” oh, no.

“(y/n), come here! this is my friend from high school! the math one-”

you and kuroo stared at each other, his face expressionless, yours morphing into disbelief. everything bokuto said drowned in the background noise of the party. and suddenly, you connected the dots. oh shit.

“y-you!” you pointed at him, unable to form a full sentence.

“me?”

“yeah, you!”

bokuto paused and watched the scene happening in front of him, “you two know each other?”

“he’s my lab partner, you dumbass!” you yelled while bokuto’s hair spiked up in nervousness. he decided to slowly back away and find hinata before something happened to him.

you poured more henny into your red solo cup and prepared another drink for kuroo. yeah, he was an ass, but you might as well give him a chance to loosen up. maybe get an apology. you held out the cup to him and he muttered a small thank you.

“so,” he started, “our project is due in a few days.”

you sat down next to him while mindlessly playing with the ends of your skirt, “yeah, i guess.” you two sat in awkward silence for another minute.

“look, asshole-”

“i was just about the apologize, but then you decided to bitch again-”

“you didn’t talk and i want to leave this situation immediately so i can go hook up with-”

“with semi? with atsumu? is that the reason you came?”

“you’ve been on my goddamn nerves lately, i think i’m allowed to sleep with whoever i want so that i can relieve some-”

you were cut off by a pair of soft lips on yours. maybe it was the alcohol, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. the taste of liquor and something sweet on his mouth was intoxicating and you wanted more of it. but you hated him. he was your asshole lab partner after all. but he was also an excellent kisser. kuroo pulled away quickly, but before he can say anything, you spoke.

“what the fuck was that, kuroo?”

“i don’t know, but do you want to do it again?”

“...yes.”

and so you both got up, drunkenly stumbling to a random room. you were immediately pushed onto a bed, kuroo sucking on the spot below your ear as he pinned your body down to the bed.

“you know, i fucking hate the smell of vanilla, but because of you, it’s become one of my favorite scents,” you blushed at the comment as he pulled down your underwear beneath your skirt, “lace, huh? were you planning to get laid?”

“you’ve been stressing me out, what do you fucking think?” you responded with an attitude.

he began rubbing your clit in small circles and you let out a small sigh of relief, “so, you’re a fucking brat, huh? is this how it’s going to go?”

“well, you’re a fucking asshole, so i don’t know how else you expected this to happen.” he pressed harder and quickened his pace as you mewled under him. he found the sweet spot on your neck and began to suck harshly. you felt two fingers enter you slowly while thumb continued the assault on your clit.

“f-faster, tetsuro,” you cried out as he sucked more hickies onto your neck. he curled his fingers and assaulted your g-spot harshly while you clenched on his fingers.

“you’re already close, i can tell,” and then he halted his movements, “but i don’t think you deserve to cum yet.” you whined.

and with that, he entered his fingers into your sensitive cunt once again, kissing his way down your body until he reached your clit which he greedily sucked. you let out small whimpers and moans and you swore you felt him smirk. then a sudden feeling of emptiness.

“fuck you!” you pushed kuroo off of you, getting on top and straddling his lap, “i’ll make myself cum.”

your lips met in a heated kiss and he groaned as you grinded on his clothed crotch, “you’re a fucking brat.”

“i don’t care. shut the fuck up and let me sit on your face.”

he brought your pussy up to his head and gripped your thighs ensuring that you would stay in place while you lifted up your skirt. you felt kitten licks on your clit which only made you go lower until you were able to feel more of his tongue. he licked a strip from your pussy back up to your nub, sucking it harshly. you let out another moan, gripping his hair which only egged him on. the wet muscle found its way into your pussy and fucked you deliciously.

“fuck, tetsu, i’m coming-”

with the sounds you made, your skirt, your tits, and the feeling of your pussy on his mouth, kuroo thought he was going to cream his pants. you shamelessly grinded on his face until the knot in your stomach became tighter and tighter until it eventually broke.

you removed yourself from his face and appreciated the image of your juices on his face, his thick lashes, and sharp cheekbones, until you snapped out of it and went to work on discarding his pants. slipping off his underwear, his cock sprang free. pre cum spilled from the pink tip. sucking a hickey on his inner thigh, you took his cock into your hand, slowly moving it up and down to agitate him as he thrusted into your fist. taking the tip in your mouth, you sucked gently until his hands found themselves tangling into your hair and pushed your head down until he hit the back of your throat.

“you look so good with your mouth stuffed full of my cock,” you sucked in your cheeks and he let out another groan, “who knew this was the way to get you to shut the fuck up.”

you could only moan at his response, sending vibrations down his dick. your head bobbed up and down until you pulled him out of your mouth. you smirked, drool and pre cum dripping down your chin, knowing you gave him a taste of his own medicine.

bringing up your lips to his ear, you spoke, “how does it feel now?”

he replied by pushing down onto the bed and pinning down your wrists. you could feel his tip rubbing your clit, “i was planning to cum in your pussy anyways, slut.”

you felt yourself get wetter at the sound of his voice until he swiftly pushed himself, instantly bottoming out. the stretch stung, but the mix of pleasure and pain had you wanting more. your skirt cinched around your waist, the sight making him even harder.

“fuck, you’re so tight, baby,” he gave you another kiss before he pulled out all the way and snapped his hips back into you.

his mouth made it way onto your hardened nipple, swirling the bud with his tongue as he set a fast pace for his thrusts. you were vocal, whining every time he buried his cock inside of you. wanting you closer, kuroo harshly grabbed your ass and pulled your body into a new position that hit deeper into you.

“you’re a fucking slut, you know that?” his pace quickened. you were a babbling mess, your breasts bouncing and the knot in your stomach tightening. the sound of your moans and skin slapping against skin filled the room as you came closer to your high. his hand squeezed the sides of you neck firmly. the only thing you were able to feel was him.

“you think atsumu can fuck you like this?”

you were unable to respond coherently as he pounded harder into you, your legs wrapping his waist as you came again. he kept going.

“how about i make you cum again, brat?”

“i-i don’t think i can,” you whimpered.

“sure, you can,” he gripped your hips tighter, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix. you felt completely spent, but he refused to quit. he brought his hand down to your clit, rubbing it harshly in fast circles and you felt your second high coming.

“f-fuck (y/n).” he let out a final groan as your pussy milked his cock while you saw stars.

kuroo laid on the bed while you two distanced yourselves. you didn’t know what to say, so you scanned your surroundings.

“shit.” you muttered. “what?”

“this is atsumu’s room.”

you both looked at each other for a few seconds before he let out a hyena laugh. you giggled along with him.

“how do you know?”

“i’ve been in here before. just didn’t quite register where we were. we could have fucked in a closet and i wouldn’t notice.” you answered in a light tone.

“so, you’ve been in atsumu’s room before?”

“i mean, yeah. to hang out and stuff,” you turned to him, “why do you care so much?”

“well i thought that reason was obvious considering we just had sex,” he grumbled, “now we’re three feet apart and everything feels awkward.”

“i mean i couldn’t tell if it was just sexual tension from hate or if you actually liked me. it’s kind of hard to tell considering other.. events?”

“well, i like you. i thought you were pretty ever since the first day i met you. i just didn’t know how to tell you so i insulted your perfume and gave you some highlighters,” he rubbed the back of neck, “sorry.” he added quietly.

“sorry,” he looked at you in shock, “for, uh, calling you an asshole, i guess.” you mumbled looking back at him.

“i’m also sorry for calling you a slut. i might have been a bit jealous when i saw you with atsumu. and semi that one night.” he awkwardly laughed and looked the opposite direction.

so he wasn’t good with his words. you scooted your body closer to him and wrapped your arms around him as you got into position to straddle his lap. your head rested on the crook of his neck and his breath hitched.

“don’t worry. you don’t have to say anything.” you kissed the spot below his ear and beamed at him when you pulled away. he swore his heart skipped a beat.

“why are you blushing?” you asked, smirking up at him.

“it’s the ethanol,” he said quickly attempting to hide his face by looking away, “you know how alcohol makes your face turn red and stuff.”

“is the alcohol also the only reason we just fucked?”

“n-no!”

“then do you want to go another round?” you asked innocently, grinding on him once again.

“ye-”

“(y/n)? what the fuck did you and rooster head do in my bed?”

#kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro smut #semi eita smut #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo tetsuro scenarios #haikyuu!!#haikyuu smut #hq!#hq! x reader #hq smut

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lovelyirony · 3 years

Text

@unfortunatelyevent a late birthday gift for you! special thanks to ava and peachy for giving me this idea :)

When Rhodey got accepted into MIT, he was fifteen, set to turn sixteen when he went there. His family held parties for it, his mama cried, and his dad called about every friend that he’d ever made to tell them the news that his boy was going to MIT.

Outwardly, you couldn’t tell that he was fazed by anything. He got registered for classes, signed up for a random roommate, and kept track of getting his textbooks. His dad bought him a crewneck, told him to start saving up for “the brass rat” ring, and said that he was so excited to help him move in.

Rhodey’s terrified. He doesn’t get sleep, has recurring nightmares about failing out, and he’s much younger than everyone else.

“You’re only two years younger, honey,” Mama says, her hand brushing away flour on his face as he helps her bake cookies. “It’s not gonna be that bad.”

It’s that bad.

Everyone knows more than him, no one talks to him, and he’s nervous as all hell.

He cries for two hours when his parents and his sister leave, telling him to remember to call or write. He thinks that’s the only thing that’ll keep him sane.

He’s one of the younger ones in his engineering class, and someone asked him why he’s taking such hard classes.

“Because this is...my major?” Rhodey answers, confusion written all over him.

“Oh, we thought you played basketball or something,” the other guy says, as if that’s all he can do.

Rhodey doesn’t say anything, doesn’t want them to know how much it burns to hear that, so he just nods and says his coordination is shit.

His roommate also hasn’t moved in yet. Or he has. He has. His name is Anthony, but Rhodey literally never sees him except for when he’s a blanket-burrito in his bed or when he traipses in from spending all night at a frat party or studying at the library.

They say hi to each other. Rhodey asks how things were. “Fine” is the usual response, followed by “I’m gonna go to bed.”

He’s never felt more alone.

He tries not to call his parents often. A lot of people get home-sick, right? But he doesn’t think that anyone else wants to call their parents every single day.

“So, what fun things have you been up to?” Dad asks over the phone. “My boy been partying out all night?”

“I’ve just been focusing on studying,” Rhodey mumbles. “Not a lot of time for parties.”

“Your roommate okay?” Mama asks. “What’s his name again...Anthony?”

“Yeah, he’s alright. I don’t see him much, he stays out late a lot.”

“Even on school nights?”

“Even then, mama,” Rhodey says. “Listen, I gotta head to lunch, but I’ll call you later this week?”

“Be sure it’s not on Friday, we’re headed to Jeanette’s band concert! We love you, Jim!”

“Love you too!” he responds, hoping to god they can’t tell how sad he is when their phone calls cut off. He misses his home, misses waking up to the smell of bacon and eggs in the morning, his mom kissing everyone’s foreheads as they rush out of the house to school or work.

He hates it here.

But he can’t leave.

His chest gets tight when he imagines calling his parents or telling them at a holiday party that he doesn’t want to go there anymore, he’s not ready.

Would his scholarship be guaranteed two years later? No. They would ask him why and he can’t tell them the real reason why. He can keep up with schoolwork no problem. In fact, that’s the least of his worries.

It’s just so goddamned lonely. His roommate isn’t anywhere, no one talks to him, and he doesn’t know anyone in Boston.

He walks back into the room, and Anthony’s sitting on his bed. It’s the first time he’s actually seen him.

His hair is everywhere, he’s looking at Rhodey for the first time and he looks so young. Just like him.

“Are you eighteen?” he blurts out. “You really don’t look like it.”

“I’m, um, sixteen,” Rhodey says. “And you...?”

“Fifteen,” he says quietly.

“You’re fifteen and you’ve been out every night?!”

“I’m mostly at the library!” Anthony defends. “Friday is for the partying, but mostly the library!”

“That’s good to know,” Rhodey says faintly.

“And you’re in college, why aren’t you going to parties with me?” Anthony asks.

“I don’t have time, Anthony!”

“No,” he says. “You are not calling me Anthony, that’s so stupid. Call me Tony, everyone does.”

“You know a lot of people at this school?”

“More like they know me,” Tony says with a shrug.

“How so?”

“What, you haven’t seen my dad on magazine covers or anything?”

“Uh...am I supposed to?” Rhodey asks. “He an actor or something?”

Tony snorts, pulling out a magazine that he’d obviously nabbed earlier on.

On the cover is Howard Stark.

Rhodey looks between Tony and the face on the cover.

“Oh. Shit.”

Tony cackles.

“Rhodey, I think I’m going to like you. How’d you get that nickname?”

“Wouldn’t stop following my older cousins around, they nicknamed me that as word-play off of ‘roadie’.”

Tony snorts.

“That’s so lame. I love it. Hey, listen. I gotta go get a book for one of my projects, you wanna come with me? I know that one of your classes needs a book, right?”

“Yeah, my writing class. Wants some biography.”

“Come on, let’s go.”

Tony...he’s a good conversationalist. For once since he’s gotten here, Rhodey isn’t letting the impending panic of being alone consume him. He walks easily instead of nearly on his toes around campus, and his eyes aren’t darting everywhere as Tony tells him about something stupid that happened in his early morning class.

“You know who you’re doing your biography assignment on?”

“Has to be someone who’s had a profound effect on your life. I don’t know who.”

“Scientist or what? What are you studying?”

“Aerospace engineering.”

“Holy shit, you’re smart,” Tony swears.

“Says the son of a genius billionaire.”

“Yeah but I don’t touch aerospace with a sixty foot pole,” Tony says. “Jesus, you’re incredible. How did you even know you wanted to do this?”

“I’ve always liked the myths and stuff behind space, and I liked how we discovered more and more over time,” Rhodey says. “The moon was cool as shit.”

“Or was it...faked?”

Rhodey shoots him a look, and Tony’s cackling.

“You did not.”

“Who knows? I come from a very rich families. Rich families buy politicians and also cover up every single scandal. Who knows what I know?”

Rhodey looks over at him, eyebrows raised.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh my dear,” Tony says, holding a hand to his chest. “You have so much more to learn about your new friend.”

Friend.

That makes him feel better.

He finds a book on Humphrey Bogart.

Bogart has not had a profound effect on his life at all. Ever. He’s never even seen a movie with the guy in it, although it’s the only book that he can find that looks remotely interesting and the library is about to close.

He reads about Bogart quite often. The guy’s...something. Grew up high society, his parents sucked, the typical Hollywood story.

Although he said exactly what was on his mind, which made him popular with the press and unpopular in the business.

It’s intriguing.

It kind of reminds him of Tony, honestly.

The paper itself isn’t due until the semester is over, and the book is over three hundred pages, so he has time to read it.

Tony and him become...closer. Tony hangs around the room more, and Rhodey stops being so lonely, although he still misses Philadelphia badly and calls his parents every week and occasionally talks to his sister.

He always gets a strange look from his roommate, but it never lasts for very long.

Finally, he gets a question from him.

“Why do you always call your parents?”

Rhodey looks at him in surprise.

“I...miss them?”

“Why?”

“They’re my parents. I love them. What, do you not like your parents?”

Tony blinks.

“Uh, no I love them. I guess. They’re just...busy a lot.”

Rhodey doesn’t say anything to that, doesn’t have time as Tony charges forth and asks if he wants to help him present a rocket for one of his clubs.

Halloween comes upon them quickly, and Rhodey has a gigantic test to study for the night of. Tony’s been trying to convince him to come to a costume party with him for the better part of a week, and he was so close until the professor sent out a letter that essentially said, “Surprise! Oops!”

So Tony does something unanticipated: he stays home.

Tony, the life of the party who wouldn’t miss one for the world. Tony, the one who has been talking about how much he loves Halloween parties. He misses it.

“Like you said, I probably don’t need to be at parties all the time,” Tony says. “And I can make you watch Dracula with me. You’re gonna like Lugosi.”

“Who the hell is Lugosi?”

“Oh my god, I’m making you do a monster-movie-marathon. I’ll rent every movie I can find.”

Rhodey shakes his head.

“Okay, but I probably won’t be paying attention tonight. I have to know the difference between a robust and gracile australopithecine.”

“One begins with ‘r’ and one begins with ‘g’, now come on and make the popcorn.”

Tony’s...the best part about him is that he’s himself. He’s loud and sometimes annoying and by god sometimes Rhodey wants to launch him out of a window, but Tony’s also incredibly kind and far more insightful than he ever wants to admit.

They fall asleep surrounded by candy wrappers and a blanket that was definitely too small slung over (mostly) Rhodey.

They get into a good routine, Tony and Rhodey. Rhodey brews the coffee, and Tony doctors it to his heart’s content. It involves a lot of syrups, creams, and sugars. The occasional terrible one, although everyone in Rhodey’s morning lab are jealous when they can smell his coffee.

They go to lunch together, and Rhodey gets the salads and fruits while Tony gets the slices of pizza or hamburgers that they’re so fond of. They argue about philosophy and call each other idiots while stealing the popcorn chicken off of each other’s plates and coexist peacefully.

It’s not until Tony has to leave for some conference that his parents want him at that Rhodey realizes just how much Tony has affected his life. He makes two coffees, almost calls out and asks if they’re still going to get takeout from that should-be-shut-down pizza parlor five blocks off, and realizes he’s all alone.

Again.

So he reads about Humphrey Bogart.

He’s kind of annoying, all things considered. Guy got steady work being the villain/bad-guy type and wants more. It’s steady, what more is there to want?

(His mind whispers that he just views it that way because he has no idea what he’s going to be doing in the future.)

Back to Bogart.

The guy is...kind of interesting. Kind of. He’s still not sure what he has in common with him. He’ll figure it out later. Maybe he can ask Tony for help.

Tony comes back in a whirlwind of emotion, almost all of it rage at his father.

Rhodey sends him a look.

“Shut up about how much your dad sucks and come with me to get food for the week. I had to survive off of hummus.”

“My hummus?!” Tony shrieks. “The garlic?!”

“Yes, I’ll get you more you gigantic baby,” Rhodey says. “Also, what do you think Humphrey Bogart and I have in common?”

“An h, an o, an e, and a y,” Tony answers quickly.

“Besides the letters,” Rhodey scowls.

“Well I’d say you go to different barbers.”

“No shit.”

Tony looks at him, and really looks at him. Rhodey tries to forget how much he loves his eyes, the kindness that’s in them.

"You both like important things,” Tony says. “And you commit to something when you decide you’re going to do it. Just think of the Great Burrito Event of ‘89.”

“We’re still in ‘89, genius.”

“Exactly, still important and still making history as we’re currently living it a day at a time,” Tony says. “Now come on, I need more hummus since you were a monster and attacked the fridge. What, you wanted to be Godzilla for a day?”

"Not Godzilla, just have a power dynamic. Come on, grab the keys. Missed you this weekend.”

“Aw, you do care!” Tony cheers.

“I always care about you,” Rhodey answers.

He misses Tony stilling at the door, feeling the words circle his head like a damned message from Cupid.

(Yeah, he was going to marry Rhodey.)

The holiday season and finals season coexist, which Rhodey thinks is a cruel joke played by God in order to let mortals know where their influence lies.

He’s currently on his fifth cup of coffee in five hours which is most likely dangerous, unsure of if he’s actually seeing the correct numbers on his study guide, and about to blow a gasket if he looks at one more problem. But he has to.

Tony doesn’t study.

He’s of the rare sort that just...remembers, at least when it comes to his important classes. Out of everything he’s had to study, Tony actually had to study something about wine cellars in France, which he hated.

“I’m making you come with me to get ice cream.”

“I don’t have time.”

He’s about to tear his hair out. Everything is riding on these exams, it seems. If he doesn’t do well on these, what are Mama and Dad gonna say when he comes home? What are they going to tell people? He made it to MIT, but he has to make it count.

Tony is looking at him in that way that lets him know that he will get his way.

“You’ve been studying for six hours straight. You’re not gonna learn anything new, and you’re about to cry because you hate stats so much.”

“You’re wrong.”

“You literally have a tear streaming down your face,” Tony deadpans. He crosses the room, wipes it away with his thumb. “Your coat is at the table towards the front, I’m giving you five minutes. And for the love of god, please put on your cologne. You smell like anxiety and anger.”

“Those have scents?”

“Apparently so.”

The cold breeze is a refreshing slap to the face as he walks, hat tugged low.

“It’s cold enough, why do you need ice cream?” Rhodey asks, teeth chattering.

“Never too cold for ice cream.”

“Says the boy who vacations in Malibu for Christmas.”

“Told you that you could come. Not like Howard would notice.”

“I’d rather not take that chance. Besides, I’d miss a Philadelphia Christmas.”

“That a movie or something?”

“No, it’s where I live you son of a bitch,” Rhodey teases.

“I hate you,” Tony says, no real heat clipped to his tone. It’s a back-and-forth they have, all this name-calling and accusatory behavior. “I’m going to request a new roommate next year.”

“Like they’d stick you with anyone else. Or would anyone else cover for the seven fires you’ve nearly started this year?”

“Six out of seven wouldn’t have been fires.”

“They would’ve.”

“Says the man who doesn’t work at all with fire, but with graph paper. Do want your Christmas gift to be a pocket-protector, by the way?”

“Oh fuck you.”

“You wish,” Tony says, winking.

He gets peanut butter chocolate.

When they get home, he makes a bowl for Rhodey.

“Your tests aren’t until noon tomorrow. Get some sleep, babe.”

“And what, you’re going to get some too, honey?”

(Pet names are also a thing. And also more favorable to both, although neither knows the other’s thoughts on this subject.)

Tony grins.

“You want both of us to sleep?”

Rhodey and Tony have figured out a nifty trick: soap operas or Seinfeld. Whichever one is on, they’ll watch that and fall asleep on the futon, which should be as uncomfortable as any futon is.

(They both think the temporary backaches are worth it to be in each other’s arms.)

Tony drifts to sleep, although he makes sure that Rhodey’s first. He pulls him over to his side, head resting on his thigh.

“You this forward with every guy you bring home?”

"Only the cute ones,” Tony grins. “Come on, get comfy. You’re gonna get sleepy.”

“Like hell I am,” Rhodey says. “You’re gonna fall asleep...first.”

Rhodey falls asleep first. Mouth slightly agape, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks.

“Like hell you are,” Tony murmurs, adjusting the blankets. (They’ve upgraded to fancy hotel ones that Tony may or may not have stolen.)

Rhodey will be okay. He just has to convince himself first.

#i saw a post that was like 'we never get to see rhodey panic about college and so here it is #rhodey #this drew HEAVILY from my freshman year of college #god what an experience #lovelyirony writes #also my dear i am so sorry that this is coming to you so late #time and inspiration got away from me #rhodeytony #tony stark #mit era #rhodey and tony at mit #college au #unfortunatelyevent

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

Text

Strangers (Part 4)

Summary: Sam has returned into Dean’s life for some reason and the reader is there to try and help Dean through having Sam around again...

Masterlist

Pairing: Doctor!Dean x patient!reader

Word Count: 2,000ish

Warnings: language, mention of surgery/injury

A/N: I hope you enjoy!

____

“Hi,” said Sam, giving you a quick wave. He stared at Dean who was already on his feet. “I need a place to crash for the night. If that’s okay.”

“What happened to the apartment, you were sharing with that girl, Jessica.”

“She died a few years ago,” he said.

“You kill her?” asked Dean. You got up, still holding your box of swiss rolls and Sam frowned. “You’ve been out of touch for three years. It’s not an unreasonable question.”

“I didn’t kill her,” said Sam. “I saw...it was a serial arsonist. I saw who did it and he ran with a bad group. I’ve been in witness-”

“Witness protection? Are you serious? I’m the fucking easter bunny while we’re at it,” said Dean.

“De, I think he’s telling the truth,” you said, nodding towards him. “He’s obviously upset.”

“You’ve been in witness protection? This whole time?”

“Yes,” said Sam. “Things have been happening lately. A lot of things. These guys are no longer a problem so I can come home. Except for the fact I don’t have a home anymore and had to drop out of college.”

“I filed a missing persons report on you.”

“I know.”

“I hung up flyers, search parties, fundraisers.”

“I know.”

“I drove to the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night because I thought I got a tip about you.”

“That was me. I had to relocate after that.”

“I looked for you for so long. Even when mom and dad gave up, I didn’t. There was no foul play but the cops told us it was unlikely we’d ever find you. You probably walked out and didn’t want to be found. I was so angry at you. They told us you were dead cause someone hurt you or you walked away. Those are two very different things,” said Dean. You dropped the box on the couch and grabbed his hand, Dean pinching his nose with his other.

“I can leave if you want,” said Sam.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” said Dean. You rubbed his back and he walked over, giving his brother a hug.

“Finally got a girlfriend?” teased Sam as he returned it.

“You two are gonna get along great. You can swap stories,” laughed Dean. “Oh, I need a drink. Also how’d you get in my house?”

“My handler had a key made. They took it from your locker at the hospital,” he said.

“Lovely.”

“I know it sounds…” said Sam as he glanced at you.

“Crazy is kind of our thing,” you said. “I’m Y/N.”

“You look familiar,” he said.

“My ex boyfriend tried to kill me. With bleach. In my drink.”

“Oh yeah. He was fucking nuts,” said Sam.

“Yup. That’s been our fun for the evening,” you said. “He got out. He’s dead now. It’s fine. Better than fine cause I’m gonna eat a whole box of swiss rolls and not feel bad about that.”

“Yeah, I will get along with you just fine,” said Sam, giving Dean a look. “Not sure about you though. I wanted to-”

“S’okay,” he said. “I’m just...happy you don’t hate me after all.”

“I wanted to call you so many times. It was too dangerous though. I couldn’t put you in that position,” said Sam.

“I’m getting kind of used to that,” said Dean. Sam smiled and you walked over to them both.

“I crashed date night, didn’t I,” he said.

“Just a bit,” said Dean.

“Well I am really happy to meet Dean’s little brother,” you said, giving him a hug. “You don’t mind if Sam hangs out with us, right?”

“No, never. As long as you’re cool with it,” said Dean.

“Of course,” you said.

“I appreciate it but honestly I’m wrecked. I could use with a shower and a bed,” said Sam.

“The guest room is right down the hall,” said Dean, pointing the way. “You hungry?”

“Nah. I’ll keep out of your guys hair,” said Sam. “Thanks.”

“It’s no problem,” said Dean. Sam started to head for the hallway when Dean grabbed his arm. “I’m really happy you’re home, Sammy.”

“Me too.”

He smiled before he left, Dean taking a deep breath as he locked up the front door again.

“So you got a brother,” you said.

“Yeah. I probably should have brought him up at some point,” said Dean. You shrugged and rested your hands on his hips, Dean smiling softly. “I thought he was dead.”

“I’m glad he’s not,” you said. “I’m gonna have to back out on the being roommates thing though.”

“What?” he asked.

“Sam needs it way more than I do. I can stick around my parents until my apartment is ready. Seriously, it’s okay. He’s gonna need a lot of help. Trust me. He’s gonna want you,” you said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. My parents aren’t that bad. Someday we can be roommates though?” you said.

“Okay. I’ll take a raincheck for now,” he smiled.

“Tonight’s not so bad,” you said. He nodded and you pulled him close to your body, Dean’s arms wrapping lazily around you. “You doing okay?”

“I’ve been the happiest I’ve ever been in my life, the most terrified I’ve ever been in my life and the most relieved I’ve ever been in my life tonight. I honestly don’t know where to begin,” said Dean.

“I got a box of chocolate with your name on it that might be a good place to start.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” he said. “You okay too?”

“My night’s ending on a good note. I’m good Dean. Let’s get back to our date. I was in the middle of cuddling you if I remember.”

One Week Later

“Howdy handsome,” you said, the elevator doors at the hospital opening to Dean standing there in his navy scrubs.

“Gorgeous,” he said, giving you a quick kiss as he stepped on. “You already have your follow up with Mace?”

“Yeah. I am progressing well I guess. We’re switching my immunosuppressant to try something that doesn’t make me as tired and won’t make me as susceptible to illness,” you said.

“That’s good. I know you’re on the strong stuff right now. Mace is pretty good about finding the right med combo by the second or third try,” he said. “Transplant meds are tricky.”

“I’ve learned. How’s your day going?” you asked. “Saving lives?”

“Easy going day. Took out some tonsils on a teenager, did an appendectomy on a toddler, did a bone reset on a kid that broke her leg. Nothing they won’t all recover from 100% percent.”

“That sounds good,” you said. “When do you get off?”

He snickered and you whacked his arm.

“Such a boy,” you said.

“I have one more surgery for the day but I’m heading home after that. Our parents are coming into town. They’ve been in Florida cause their vacation plans got screwed up with the pandemic last year so they rescheduled and of course it’s this week and there’s tropical storms so they can’t get a flight out and they finally are getting home today. It’s been a nightmare. I’m supposed to cook dinner so that’ll go wonderfully.”

“You’re a good cook!” you said as the doors opened and you walked with him down the hall. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. They excited to see Sam?”

“Yeah. They feel bad about...they thought he was dead. Like it hasn’t been long enough to legally declare him that way but they were going to. I’ve always had a somewhat tense relationship with my dad. We fought a lot about Sam after he disappeared.”

“I think no matter what happened before, dinner’s gonna go good for you guys tonight,” you said.

“You’re coming right?” he asked.

“You want me to?”

“Yeah. I...you make me feel...safe,” he said as he stopped walking. You smiled and grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers together. “You don’t have-”

“I’d love to. I really like Sam and I want to be there for you. I like that I make you feel safe, makes me feel good,” you said. He rubbed the back of his neck but you caught the smile on his face. You gave him another kiss, a whistle coming from further down the hall.

“Get a room, Winchester,” said a guy as he walked by with a laugh.

“Better be a soundproof room,” you said, the guy stopping in his tracks.

“Okay, I approve of this one,” the guy chuckled. Dean rolled his eyes but he was biting down a laugh.

“Y/N, this is RN. Lafetite or Benny as well call him. He’s Donna’s boyfriend,” said Dean.

“Oh yeah, she was great,” you said. “She removed my appendix.”

“That woman knows her way around a blade,” said Benny. “You had the digestive transplant done a while ago, right?”

“Yeah,” you said, Dean making a face beside you.

“Badass,” said Benny. “I worked with Mace some on you.”

“You’re a surgeon too?” you asked.

“No, no. I’m a surgical nurse,” he said.

“They’re pretty important,” said Dean. “The really good ones could perform minor surgeries themselves like Ben. I keep trying to convince Benny here to go to med school and join the rest of us.”

“Oh you know you’d miss me too much, Deano. You me and Novak are the dream team of pediatrics,” he said.

“Sure we are,” said Dean with a laugh. “Y/N and I were having a little get together on Sunday, watch a little football, food. Round up the usual suspects?”

“I can get the crew together. I’ll bring my beer dip and some of those pretzels. Very easy on the digestive system,” said Benny to you.

“That’s considerate,” you said. “It’s okay. I’m alright with most stuff. I just got to watch the grease a bit.”

“These are really not greasy at all. I’ll give you the recipe sometime,” said Benny as his phone went off. “I think we’re late for pre-op.”

“When are we not?” said Dean. “I’ll see you tonight, sweetheart.”

“See you later, Dean.”

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” said Dean that night as he rushed in the house. You and Sam were working the kitchen, Dean checking the clock. “They’re gonna be here in five minutes.”

“Go wash up. Sam and I can cook a few pieces of chicken and make mashed potatoes,” you said. You were nearly finished anyways, the chicken baking away in the oven. Dean made a thud down the hall but shouted back that he was fine before you heard the bathroom door shut. “He always been a worrier?”

“Pretty much,” said Sam as he got out the plates. “He seems different. Good different. More easy going.”

“It’s all I’ve ever known from him so I don’t have much to go off of,” you said.

“You might have something to do with it,” he said. He smiled and finished up with setting the table. “You’ve never met our parents Dean said.”

“No. We’ve only been together a few months,” you said.

“This’ll be an interesting evening then,” said Sam as the doorbell rang. He suddenly looked nervous and you rubbed a hand up and down his back.

“It’ll be okay,” you said. “Trust me.”

“I see why he likes you,” said Sam. “Here goes nothing.”

______

A/N: Read Part 5 here!

#dean winchester #supernatural #spn #dean x reader #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #au #doctor!dean #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader

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rhosyn-du · 3 years

Text

Never make a mess when a total catastrophe will do - Chapter One

Pairings: Jimon, past Clace, background Clizzy, a bunch of other minor background pairings Rating: Explicit Art: @cor321 Beta: @all-thestories-aretrue Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, fake dating, oh my god they were roommates, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, pining, miscommunication, holidays, drinking games, mistletoe, symbolically significant Oreos, domestic fluff, brief mention of past character death, Jace’s self-worth issues deserve their own tag Summary: What do you do when you find out your sister is not only dating your ex and love-of-your-high-school-life but is also bringing her home for Christmas? Bring your annoying, hot, annoyingly-hot roommate as your fake boyfriend to show them you're totally fine with it, obviously! There's no possible way this could backfire. Link: AO3, Tumblr Master Post

Chapter One

“Lightwood’s Mortuary, you stab ‘em, we slab ‘em. How may I direct your call?”

“You know,” Izzy said, “that joke would land a lot better if you hadn’t turned green last week when I mentioned getting to do my first cadaver dissection.”

“First of all,” Jace said, abandoning his laptop in favor of flopping back onto his bed, “it’s creepy that you say ‘getting to’ instead of ‘having to.’ And second of all, no one wants to hear about how much fun you had slicing up dead bodies over Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Max wanted to hear about it.”

“Max also can’t wait to get to middle school because he heard you get to use actual fire in science class,” Jace pointed out.

“Max is just into science like his big sister,” Izzy countered breezily. “Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about Christmas.”

“Please,” Jace said with far more enthusiasm than the situation probably warranted. “I’m desperate enough for any distraction that will take me away from trying to memorize third declensions that I would love to discuss whatever family holiday drama is so colossal I’m hearing it from you instead of Alec. Is Robert planning to show up uninvited to Christmas dinner with his girlfriend again? Oh! Did Mom finally snap and kill him? Is that why Alec isn’t calling? Is he helping her hide the body?”

“Oh my god,” Izzy laughed. “Dad and Annamarie are spending the holidays in Provance with her family, and there are no bodies to be hidden. This is what you get for taking Latin instead of Spanish like a sane person.”

“This coming from a woman who’s studying both,” Jace pointed out.

“Yeah, because a basic understanding of Latin and fluency in Spanish will both help me get into med school, and I need all the help I can get if I’m going to get into Grossman. Besides, I’d never imply anyone in this family is sane. If you studied more, you’d know that ‘Lightwood’ is just Latin for ‘totally fucking cracked.’”

“Please,” Jace snorted. “It’s not even a Latinate name. It’s Germanic. ‘Lightwood’ is Old English for ‘totally fucking cracked.’ Speaking of which, what’s the Christmas disaster?”

“It’s not a disaster exactly,” Izzy hedged, and Jace felt a sudden frisson of actual unease. Izzy normally had no problem speaking her mind. “It’s not a disaster at all, actually. It’s just. I invited someone.”

“Oh.” Jace relaxed. He didn’t know why Izzy was making such a big deal out of this. In the years since the divorce, Maryse had often encouraged her kids to invite any friends without a place to go to join them for holidays. Izzy’s own roommate had come for Thanksgiving last year. “That’s cool.”

“No,” Izzy said, like he was missing something obvious. “Jace, I invited someone. Someone I’m seeing. Seriously.”

“Oh,” Jace said again, this time with dawning comprehension. “That’s great, Iz. I’m happy for you. Wait, Mom’s not doing her overprotective, no-one-is-good-enough-for-my-children thing again, is she? Is that why you called, you need me to run interference?”

“No, no,” Izzy reassured him, although her voice still held an underlying tension. “Mom’s been great, actually. They knew each other already, so that probably helps.” Jace heard a shaky inhale before Izzy continued. “You, um. You know her, too, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” Jace said with forced ease, wracking his brain for any clue as to what could have Izzy so freaked out. Whatever it was, Jace wasn’t going to add to her stress. As far as he knew, Isabelle had never even been serious enough about someone before to even use the term girlfriend or boyfriend, let alone bring them home for Christmas. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

“It’s Clary,” Izzy said in a rush. “I’m dating Clary.”

The world seemed to tilt on its axis, and Jace was glad he was already lying down.

“Clary?” he repeated. “M—” He just barely stopped himself from saying “my Clary.” Because she wasn’t, not anymore. Not for a long time. “Morgenstern?” It was a clumsy recovery, but it was the best he could manage. “You’re dating Clary Morgenstern?”

Jace and Clary had met at the beginning of Jace’s junior year of high school. Clary, a year younger, had just lost her mom, and the two initially bonded over the shared experience of having lost parents. But Clary was fierce and bold and so full of passion even in the depths of her grief that Jace really couldn’t help falling in love with her. They’d dated for nearly two years—practically forever in high school terms—and even though they’d both known they were growing apart by the time Jace had to choose between his first-choice college in Boston and staying in New York to go to NYU, Clary would always hold a special place in Jace’s heart as his first love.

“Yeah,” Izzy said on a heavy exhale. “For a while now. That—that’s why I called. I didn’t want it to be weird, you know? For us all to just show up and for it to be a surprise. But I guess I probably shouldn’t have done it over the phone, either. I just didn’t think—”

“Izzy,” Jace said, much more calmly than he felt. “Breathe. It’s okay.”

“God, I should have told you sooner,” Izzy continued as though he hadn’t even spoken. “I just knew it probably would be weird for you, so I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure—”

“But you are now,” Jace interrupted again. It wasn't really a question. “Sure.”

“Yeah,” Izzy breathed. “I’m so sure.”

“Then it’s not weird,” Jace lied. “I mean, come on, my sister is dating someone who makes her happy and who I know will treat her right. What kind of idiot would I have to be to complain about that?”

“Really?” Izzy pressed. “Because I told Clary I wanted to talk to you before we finalized plans. So, if it is weird for you, or even if you just don’t want to be the only single person at the table on Christmas—”

“I won’t be,” Jace interrupted.

There was a pregnant pause, and then Izzy squealed so loud Jace had to pull the phone away from his ear.

“Oh my god, Jace! That’s amazing! Why didn’t you just say you were bringing someone, too, you jackass? Do you know how worried I’ve been about telling you about me and Clary?”

Which wasn’t what he’d meant at all—he’d only meant that Maryse was single, too—but Jace couldn’t resist the excitement in Izzy’s voice, not after her earlier panic.

“If I’d known you were all freaked out, I would have said something sooner,” Jace improvised. “It’s kind of new, and I haven’t even had the chance to tell Mom yet.”

“Let me,” Izzy insisted. “I’ve been trying to get her to admit that she and Luke are an item for ages, and maybe knowing that we’re all happily attached will be the push she needs.”

“Hold up. Mom…and Clary’s stepdad?” Jace was starting to wonder if this was some bizarre stress nightmare brought on by impending finals.

“Yup,” Izzy confirmed, popping the “p.” “They’re not even subtle about how much time they’re spending together, but Mom keeps talking about how they’re ‘just old friends.’” Jace could practically hear the eye roll.

“Anyway,” she continued, “if I leave now, I can catch Mom closing up the bookshop and maybe finally get her to crack. Don’t worry about Christmas plans. I’ll take care of everything. Talk to you later!”

“Iz, wait,” Jace started, but he was interrupted by the telltale beep of the call ending.

Jace stared at his phone, wondering how, exactly, he’d managed to make such a disaster of things. He couldn’t deal with this right now, he decided, tossing his phone aside. He just had to get through finals, and then he could come up with some excuse for why his nonexistent girlfriend couldn’t make it for Christmas. An excuse that wouldn’t make Izzy suspicious. Or Clary. Or Alec. Or— Fuck. Not thinking about it.

He turned his attention back to his laptop only to realize after several minutes of staring blankly that he wasn’t prepared to think about Latin anymore, either. Fuck it. He was going to spend the rest of the evening on the couch, drinking beer and watching stupid people doing stupid things on TV and thinking about absolutely nothing at all.

Because Jace just couldn’t catch a break, he found both the couch and TV already in use. He wanted to be annoyed, especially since he knew this was at least the dozenth time this semester his roommate had watched Return of the Jedi. Part of him was annoyed. But another part of him was…not annoyed. And that was yet another thing Jace wasn’t going to think about.

Jace’s first impression of Simon Lewis, when he’d walked into History and Literature of Music their freshman year, had been that he was kind of hot, in a nerdy way. His second impression, when he actually talked to Simon a few days later, was that the guy was annoying as hell. Over the course of the year, as they somehow ended up hanging out with the same group of friends, it became a tolerable sort of annoying. So tolerable, in fact, that when Jace found himself desperate for a roommate the next summer when Raj bailed on him last-minute, he’d agreed to let Simon have the second room in the surprisingly affordable apartment he’d found.

Jace’s third impression of Simon came four days after they’d moved in together, when he happened to be walking down the hallway at the exact moment Simon stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, a stray droplet of water trailing down his surprisingly well-defined abs. In that moment, Jace must have lost his mind, because he had the sudden, almost overwhelming urge to follow the path of that droplet with his tongue and, oh. Oh no. Jace had been wrong this entire time. Simon wasn’t just annoying. He wasn’t just nerd-hot. He was annoyingly hot.

And Jace was maybe just a little bit in trouble.

Because he’d seen the kinds of people Simon dated. Thoughtful. Driven. Well-adjusted. Unlike Jace in pretty much every way that mattered. Not that Jace dated, but he wasn’t the kind of person Simon hooked up with, either, he was pretty sure.

(Jace confessed his fourth impression of Simon to Maia several months later, after many, many shots of tequila. Maia laughed at him for a solid five minutes, but she also poured them another round and never mentioned it again after they sobered up because she was actually a pretty good friend despite how much she always seemed to enjoy Jace’s suffering.)

“What’s wrong?” Simon asked around a mouthful of instant ramen. Jace refused to acknowledge that the way his cheeks puffed out when he ate was cute.

“Just.” Jace shook his head. “Holidays. Family stuff.”

“Your sister planning to make Christmas dinner again?” Simon asked.

“Worse,” Jace said, flopping onto the other end of their stained Goodwill couch. “She’s dating my ex.”

Simon winced. “Ouch, dude.” Simon poked at his noodles with a pair of well-used disposable chopsticks. “You still have feelings for your ex?”

“What? No, of course not. It was ages ago, and we were practically still kids. And the breakup was mutual.” He made a face. “But Izzy’s bringing her home for Christmas.”

“Okay, yeah, that could be a little awkward,” Simon conceded.

“It gets worse,” Jace admitted. “When she told me, I kind of panicked and said I was bringing someone home, too.”

Simon frowned. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”

“I’m not,” Jace told him. “Which is kind of the problem.”

“Wow. You really know how to make things difficult for yourself.”

“Thanks,” Jace said. “Very helpful.”

Simon shrugged, then said, as casual as if he were offering to toss Jace’s towels in with his to make a full load at the laundromat, “You could always take me home with you.”

Jace stared. “What?”

“I mean, I’m going to be in the city anyway,” Simon continued, “and it’s not like my family does Christmas. I think Mom and Becky can manage the traditional Chinese takeout and Fast and Furious marathon without me.”

“Your family watches The Fast and the Furious on Christmas?” It was the only part of that Jace was emotionally prepared to process.

“It used to be Die Hard, but Mom’s got a thing for Vin Diesel, so now we alternate years.”

Jace stared a moment longer, waiting for any of this to make sense. On the television, Boushh threatened Jabba with a thermal detonator.

“Right,” Jace said when it was clear the situation wasn’t going to make sense of itself. “Okay. Rewind to the part where I’m supposed to take you home with me for Christmas and, what, pretend you’re my boyfriend?”

He could picture it all too easily. Simon wielding his enthusiastic charm to keep Izzy out of the kitchen while Jace helped Maryse make dinner. Simon joining Alec in coaxing Jace toward the piano when it was time to sing carols. Simon flushed and smiling after a couple mugs of Magnus’s deceptively alcoholic eggnog. Simon’s hand in his because that’s just something boyfriends do.

It was a horrifyingly tempting prospect.

Jace pushed those thoughts away, crossing his arms over his chest and directing all the scorn he felt at himself into the stare he leveled at Simon. “What’s that supposed to accomplish other than giving me a headache?”

“Hey,” Simon said, setting the dregs of his ramen down on their secondhand Ikea coffee table, “I’ll have you know that I make an excellent boyfriend.”

That wasn’t exactly news. The fact that Simon was friends with basically all of his exes said as much. But Jace wasn’t about to let on that he paid that much attention to Simon’s dating habits. Or to pass up such a good opening. “That why you’re single?”

“Not the one currently desperate for a holiday date here, pal,” Simon pointed out.

“I don’t know, you seemed pretty eager to be my holiday date just a second ago,” Jace said, adding a wink just to be obnoxious.

“It was an offer, jackass. One which I now deeply regret.”

“Which you should,” Jace told him, turning to the TV and pretending to watch. “Now we can both forget this conversation ever happened, and I can go back to figuring out what I’m going to tell my family about why my nonexistent significant other can’t make it for Christmas this year.”

“Right,” Simon muttered, picking up his bowl and turning his own attention back to the movie.

Jace told himself he didn’t feel just the tiniest bit disappointed.

“The thing is,” Simon said several minutes later, as Boba Fett tumbled into the Sarlaac pit, “my cousin Rachel is getting married on Valentine’s Day. And my Bubbe Helen is still pretty cranky with me for breaking up with Maia.”

Jace frowned at him. “You and Maia dated for like a month and a half. Over a year ago.”

“Yeah, well,” Simon said, “Bubbe Helen really liked her, but I think maybe that’s because Maia’s the only person I’ve ever brought to a family function. So, I was thinking maybe if I brought someone else to Rachel’s wedding, she’d get the hint and drop the Maia thing. And then you suddenly needed someone to take home for Christmas, and I thought we could, you know, help each other out.”

It was a terrible idea, and Jace meant to say so. He really did. But what came out of his mouth instead was, “You want to introduce me to your grandmother?”

“I mean,” Simon said with a shrug, “she’d probably be happier if you were Jewish, but I honestly think she’d be happy to see me with anyone who’s not a total asshole. Ever since she found out Maia and I aren’t together anymore, she’s been acting like I’m going to end up a lonely old maid or something, which I totally don’t get, because A, I’m only twenty-one, and B, she doesn’t think it’s a problem that Becky’s single and Becky’s two years older than me.”

“Glad to know I meet the very minimal requirement of not being an asshole.”

“Not a total asshole,” Simon corrected with a teasing grin.

“You’re really making a compelling case for trying to convince our families that we’re a couple,” Jace said drily. But he was maybe just a little bit weak for Simon’s smile, so he added, “But you might as well tell me how exactly you think this would work. Theoretically.”

“Theoretically,” Simon repeated. “Right. Well, we’d need to come up with a game plan, obviously. And rules. Rules that we actually follow, because that’s where things like this always fall apart, when someone ignores the rules.”

“Where things always fall apart,” Jace repeated. “Is this something you do often?”

“What? No! I just mean like in movies and stuff. Fake dating is practically its own genre, so we have a ton of examples for how not to do it, and…” Simon frowned as his voice trailed off. “And now that I’m saying this out loud, I’m realizing how dumb it sounds. You’re right. We should forget this conversation ever happened.”

“Or,” Jace said slowly, knowing he was going to regret it but unable to stop himself, “we could spend some time coming up with a plan and then decide if we think it will work.”

“Wait, really?” The slow grin spreading across Simon’s face did nothing to ease Jace’s sense of impending doom, but it did fill him with a soft warmth that made the doom easier to ignore.

“Why not?” Jace shrugged with practiced nonchalance. “I’m done with classes at noon tomorrow if you want to do it then.”

“I’ve got a break from then till three if you don’t mind meeting near campus,” Simon said. “Say, Java Jones at twelve-thirty?”

“Sure,” Jace agreed to the background of Jabba’s sail barge exploding. He hoped that was less metaphorical than it felt.

~~~

“I thought we were planning a couple of fake dates, not staging a major military operation,” Jace said as he surveyed the notebooks and stacks of paper strewn across the rickety cafe table in front of Simon.

“Oh, sorry,” Simon said, hastily shoving exactly one of the many notebooks into his backpack. “I was just reviewing notes for my econ final while I waited.”

“Is all of this really necessary?” Jace asked, attempting to clear enough room on the table for his coffee and the banana muffin that was attempting to pass for lunch.

“It’s so necessary,” Simon told him, reaching over to steal a piece of Jace’s muffin. “I don’t want to end up like Melissa Joan Hart in My Fake Fiancé.” He popped the piece of muffin into his mouth. “Or Melissa Joan Hart in Drive Me Crazy. Oh! Or even worse, Melissa Joan Hart in Holiday in Handcuffs.”

“I have no idea what you just said.”

Simon sighed heavily. “I’m saying we need clear, well-defined rules if this is going to work.”

“Is rule number one ‘don’t be Melissa Joan Hart’?” Jace asked, snatching his muffin away when Simon reached for it again and taking a pointed bite.

“No,” Simon said, with far more seriousness than Jace thought the situation warranted. “That’s rule number two. Rule number one,” he continued, opening a blue notebook to a fresh page, “is ‘absolutely no sex.’”

Jace choked on his muffin.

“If there’s one thing everyone seems to agree with, it’s that things always break down when that rule gets broken,” Simon continued as though Jace weren’t struggling to breathe around a mouthful of muffin and why Simon thought they even needed a rule for that.

Jace washed the remaining crumbs of muffin down with a generous swig of coffee, then leaned back in his chair with a deliberately cocky grin. “I mean, I know I’m damn near irresistible, but do you really think you need a rule to keep from jumping me?”

“Rule three,’’ Simon said, scribbling furiously in the notebook, “treat each other with the same respect we’d treat people we’re actually dating.”

“Hey, I would have the same question for someone I was actually dating.”

Simon looked up from the notebook. “That explains so much about your dating history.”

Jace flipped him off, and Simon flashed him a shit-eating grin. “Nope, sorry, rule one. But,” he continued, serious once again, “we should have rules about what kind of physical affection we are comfortable with. Like, I know we don’t normally do hugs, but it would be weird if we never hugged in front of your family if we were dating, right? What about holding hands, is that too much? And what about kissing? I’m definitely cool with cheek kisses, but I don’t know—”

“Simon,” Jace interrupted before he could get too worked up. Or make Jace think about more things he really shouldn’t be thinking about. “You’re allowed to hug me. And hold my hand. Honestly, I’m sure I’d be fine with anything you’re comfortable doing in front of my family, so how about we just go with this: casual touches are fine and for anything else, I’ll follow your lead.”

The look Simon gave him was so searching that Jace almost worried for a second that Simon would be able to see right past his crossed arms and feigned nonchalance to the part of him that was less worried about showing physical affection than how much he wanted it, the part that avoided hugging Simon because he liked it.

“Okay,” Simon said finally. “But you have to promise you’ll tell me if anything I do bothers you even a little bit.”

“You mean like singing Shake It Off at the top of your lungs in the shower?” Jace asked.

“That was one time!” Simon protested. “I was up all night studying and under the influence of too many energy drinks. We agreed never to mention it again.”

“No, you told me never to mention it again and I laughed at you.”

“See, this is why we need rules. You’re already breaking number three.”

“Yeah, because we’re not pretend-dating yet,” Jace said. “That one might be a little rough, but I’m sure I can manage with some practice.”

There was that searching look again, but then Simon nodded like Jace had said something particularly insightful. “You’re right, we should practice.”

“We—what?”

“If we’re going to convince people who actually know us that we’re dating, then we should practice first,” Simon said, like it was the most reasonable thing in the world. “Not just the rules we know are going to be hard, but all of it, so we can work out any kinks in the plan before showtime.”

And maybe it was reasonable, but it was one thing to put on a show for his family, for Simon’s family, for a few days at a time in places that might be familiar to each of them individually, but that weren’t theirs. It was entirely another thing to do it here, in the cafe they went to at least twice a week, or on campus where they’d first met and had to keep on attending classes for at least another year, or even worse in the apartment they shared, around their friends—

“I really should have thought of it earlier,” Simon continued, blissfully unaware of Jace’s inner turmoil. “My best friend back home, she’s an amazing liar. Like, seriously, she got away with everything when we were kids. But any time she needed me to back up her story, she’d make me practice with her like a hundred times until she knew I could convince her mom and stepdad, even after I got good enough that I didn’t have to practice to convince Mom. Man, those two could sniff out the tiniest discrepancy in any story. Like, if normal parent bullshit detection is a one, my mom’s is probably a solid three, but Fray’s parents? Eleven, easy.”

“I’m pretty sure no one I’m related to has supernatural bullshit detection,” Jace told him. “And it’s common knowledge I’m a better liar than you are, so if you can fool your mom without practice, so can I.”

“Maybe,” Simon conceded. “But a little bit of practice couldn’t hurt, right?”

Jace was pretty sure that it could hurt, actually, but he was also pretty sure he was the only one in danger of getting hurt, so it probably wasn’t worth consideration. Especially weighed against the hopeful enthusiasm in Simon’s expression.

“What did you have in mind?”

“We could start by pretending we’re on a date right now,” Simon suggested. “We’re already sharing a muffin. So, just treat me like you’d treat anyone you were on a date with.”

“My dates don’t usually involve this many notebooks,” Jace told him. “And if my date stole my muffin, the date would be over.”

“Come on, you’re not even trying,” Simon said, gathering up the papers and notebooks. “You’d really ditch your date over a muffin?”

“Absolutely,” Jace insisted. “They’d have to be seriously good in bed to make up for it, and I’m pretty sure rule number one says you’ll never get muffin-stealing privileges.”

“If the biggest benefit to sleeping with you is getting to share your muffins, then I’m not the one missing out,” Simon told him.

“You selling your body for muffins now, Lightwood?” an amused voice interrupted. “I bet I know a few people who’d toss a bran muffin or two your way for a chance at that ass.”

“Which is why you’re not my pastry-pimp, Roberts,” Jace said, smirking at Maia as she helped herself to one of the table’s empty chairs. “I only trade this ass for top tier, gourmet muffins. If your muffins don’t have at least two Michelin stars, I’m not interested.”

“I give him a week until he’s working corners for Entenmann’s,” Simon told her. “He was just threatening to walk out on our date over a bite of mediocre banana nut.”

Maia’s eyes widened. “Your— Oh, shit, sorry,” she said, scrambling out of her chair and throwing them both an apologetic smile that Jace was pretty sure wouldn’t be directed at him if he were sitting with anyone other than Simon. “I swear I didn’t mean to interrupt, I just thought you were studying or something. You guys have fun, and I’ll just—”

“It’s a practice date,” Jace interrupted, “not an actual date. And Simon’s a dirty muffin thief who won’t even put out, so I’m not sure it really even qualifies as any kind of date.”

Maia looked between the two of them, then slowly lowered herself back into the chair. “I know I’m going to regret asking this, but what exactly is a ‘practice date,’ and why are the two of you on one?”

“Jace needs a fake boyfriend to take home for Christmas, and I need a fake date for Rachel’s wedding,” Simon explained, snatching the last bit of Jace’s muffin without remorse. “And we thought we should practice dating before trying to convince our families that were actually, you know, together.”

“That’s a terrible idea, and I regret any part I played in the two of you becoming friends,” Maia said flatly.

“Yeah, that would probably worry me more if you didn’t say that like twice a week,” Simon told her.

“Oh god, Simon, what did you let Jace talk you into now?” another voice asked, and suddenly there were three more people crowding around their tiny table, because apparently all of their friends were at Java Jones today. Which, in retrospect, Jace should have expected, given how often they all hung out there.

“It was actually my idea,” Simon told Maureen, sliding his chair closer to Jace’s to make room for her, Bat, and Lily. “Jace is taking me home to meet his family over the holidays, and I’m taking him as my date to my cousin’s wedding.”

This proclamation was met with a stunned silence that was broken when Lily turned to Jace and punched him in the arm.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“That’s for abandoning me, jerk,” Lily told him. “Not that I can really blame you—either of you,” she added, giving both Jace and Simon an appreciative once over, “‘cause damn—but I thought we had an understanding.” She sighed heavily. “Now that you’ve gone over the dating Dark Side, who’s going to be my wingman? You’re probably going to start doing all kinds of relationship-y things and talking about feelings—” she said it like it was a dirty word “—and crap like that.”

“I am not going to talk about my feelings,” Jace said, at the same time that Simon said, “We’re not actually together. We’re just pretending.”

“They’re planning to try to convince their families they’re dating even though they’re not,” Maia explained. “Because they apparently think that’s not just a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Oh,” Lily said, sounding oddly disappointed.

“Fifty bucks,” Bat announced, “says that when this blows up in their faces, Jace is the first one to break down and call Maia in a panic.”

“Hey,” Jace protested.

“Oh, you’re on,” Maureen said, ignoring Jace entirely. “Sorry, Simon, but no one panics quite like you.”

“I’m in,” Lily said, “and I agree with Maureen that Simon will break first, but his call to Maia will be interrupted by Jace calling five minutes later.”

“Why am I the one getting all of the panicked calls?” Maia wanted to know.

“Because you’re the only person at this table who isn’t an asshole,” Simon told her, “but nothing’s going to go wrong, let alone panic-inducing levels of wrong, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Dude,” Jace said, “she’s an asshole to me.”

“You like it,” Maia and Simon said in unison, causing the rest of the table to collapse into laughter.

“Okay, fine,” Maia said around her giggles several minutes later, “if you’re all betting, then count me in, too. I bet that these fools,” she looked pointedly at Jace, then at Simon, “don’t call me when this whole thing goes to hell, but I somehow end up having to haul their asses out of trouble, anyway.”

“I rescind my assessment of you as not an asshole,” Simon told her.

“I’d think twice about calling the woman who’s going to haul your ass out of trouble an asshole if I were you,” Bat said.

“Back to this pretending to be together thing,” Lily said. “What exactly does that entail?”

“That’s actually what we were trying to figure out when you guys showed up,” Simon told her. “We started a list of rules, but we only made it to four so far.”

“Your list should definitely include making out,” Lily said decisively. “Having made out with both of you, I can say with confidence that you’re definitely missing out if you don’t. In fact, you should try it now so we can let you know if it looks authentic.”

“You just want to watch them make out,” Maureen said.

“Yes,” Lily told her. She didn’t add ‘duh,’ but it was implied. “I always want to make hot people make out. But in this case, I’m also being helpful.”

The ensuing argument over the line between helpful and self-serving was thankfully cut short by the opening guitar line of Blonde Redhead’s Barragan.

“Sorry, I’ve gotta take this,” Simon said, holding up his phone. “I’ve been playing voicemail tag with Becky all week.” He looked at Jace. “Talk more about this later?”

“Sure,” Jace told him.

“Tell your sister I said hi,” Maia called after Simon as he headed away from the cafe’s crowd.

“You know,” Jace told her in a low voice, “you could always tell her hi yourself instead of always asking Simon to pass messages.”

Maia gave him an unimpressed look. “After everything I just heard, I’m pretty sure you’re the last person in this room I should be taking relationship advice from.”

“Bite me,” Jace told her, but he didn’t disagree.

#shadowhunters #shmb2021 #jimon #jimon fic #jace wayland #simon lewis

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