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fredwkong · 2 months

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Alphaworld File 3: Diary of an Alpha Transformation (1 of ?)

Click here to read Alphaworld in posting order.

An undated journal. It is heavily bedazzled on the covers, though many of the gems appear to have been scraped off or stepped on. There are several stains yellowing the coloured paper of the cover, mostly sweat.

Inside the front cover, there is a space where the owner is encouraged to write their name. Two names occupy the space, one on top of the other. The lower layer is written with a purple marker, neatly spelling the name “Ronaldo Herrera.” There are multicoloured sparkles drawn around the name, and glitter has been sprinkled over it. Some of the glitter appears to have been scraped off with a knife, and there is a 3 centimetre tear at the top interior of the page, as if someone was about to rip it out. On top of the first name, the name “RONNIE H” is scrawled in crude capitals using a pencil. The pencil was applied with sufficient force that graphite scrapes are visible from where they were brushed off the page.

Journal entries flow into each other without dating, but editors have split entries based on context and labelled them “Day One, Day Two, Day Three…” despite the fact that more than one day clearly proceeds between some entries. From this point onward, journal entries are transliterated directly, with marginalia and other notes on the text rendered in square brackets [] to distinguish them from the main body.

[Day One]

OMG, I’m soooo happy to be back on campus! Staying with my parents is such a bore! They don’t let me stream any of my shows, they say drag race is of the devil, and the town is so small that I’m, like, the only twink there. I can’t even get any dl dick all holiday because country guys are all totally masc for masc. My hole is toooootally desperate.

I’m so happy that Ollie across the hall got me this journal! He made it look soooo cute with all the stones! He’s, like, okay for a fellow bottom, even tho his massive crush on me is, like, totally obvious. Sorry babe, this dick is for decoration only lmao! Maybe we could get tag teamed by a big dick boy sometime, that’d be pretty hot. I've never bottomed alongside a transmasc dude.

Anyway, I just stopped at the dorm to drop off my suitcase and get out of my het drag, there’s a whole lotta frat parties starting tonight and if I wanna end my dry spell I’ve gotta be there! I just had to live my Sex and the City fantasy by putting down a few lines in the diary first!

[a doodle of an open-faced journal with scribbly lines on the page in rainbow colours]

[Day Two]

ZOMGGGGGGG [written in double-tall bubble letters across a quarter of the page, filled in with pink highlighter]

This term is gonna be SO AWESOME.

Campus is suddenly full of massive muscle men who are totally desperate for me! I was, like, totally the target of a dominance contest at the party last night, and it was SO HOT.

So I walk in, right? And I’m dressed in my usual, my lil slutty crop and my littlest shorts. Here, I took a pic before I left so you can see how cute I was.

Anyway, I’m cute, I’m obvious, I’m ready to have any guy absolutely wreck me. Like, last night, I would have taken a bicurious frat bro fucking me raw, my hole was so neglected. So I am a blaring neon sign: I’M A FAG [written in rainbow marker colours]

And as soon as I walk in, this GOD [a doodle of a massive man is in the margin, a perfect X shape covered in cartoonishly bulging muscles] comes up to me and is all, “Hey boy, I’m Nate.” He. Is. PERFECT. Gorgeous grey eyes, windswept dirty blond hair, a tank top hugging pecs the size of my HEAD. And his voice gets me tooootally weak in the knees. I can't believe he's LOOKING at lil ol me, even if I do look like a twinky slut.

But before I can even say anything to Nate, there’s another MASSIVE arm draped over my shoulder, and ANOTHER massive guy is whispering in my ear, like, “Name’s Lee. Want a drink?” I look over, and he’s just as hot as Nate, with shiny black hair and this perfect sexy smile like a J-pop star. But, like, if a J-pop star was 250 pounds of pure muscle and sex.

I swear all the air went out of the room. Suddenly, Nate and Lee were glaring at each other over me, and all these frat bros were staring.

BTW, when did all the frat bros get so cuuuute? Like, not as sexy as Nate and Lee, but they’re all totally cut this term and I think they’ve got some skincare going? Like I wanna go back sometime lmao.

Lee, like, GROWLED as he glared across me. I felt a li-ter-al rumble from his chest. Nate started totally flexing his big pecs, I thought his shirt was gonna shred in the middle. They didn’t even SAY anything, it was so totally primal. I think I got a whiff of Lee as he tucked me closer to his chest, and I realised he totally doesn’t use deodorant. He smelled totally HAWT.

Anyway, I have two perfect men fighting over me, and I’m not letting either of them go, so I go, “Boys, I promise my holes are big enough to share.” I totes flashed my dimples at them. [doodle of a smiley face]

They kept glaring at each other, but finally Lee was like, “I get his hole.” Maybe he, like, won the contest or whatever? Because Nate looked down at the floor and said, “Fine.” And I mean, fine with me! I love getting stuffed from both ends! What a way to come back from vacay!

We didn’t stay at the party long, just long enough for Lee to get me a drink and Nate to carry me around the dance floor a bit. I checked on Lee while we were dancing, and he was, like, totally making out with one of the frat bros. Like, a guy I knew was straight. I blew him freshman year when his gf was away. I guess Lee’s just like that, lmao.

We ended up upstairs. I think Lee’s in the frat? But we weren’t in his room, which was kinda hot. Lee and Nate sandwiched me between them as soon as we were through the door. I was tooootally surrounded by massive muscle as Nate made out with me and Lee sucked on my neck. I felt, like, high, with Nate’s big cock grinding into my belly through his jeans while Lee felt up my cute ass.

“You guys kissing would be so hot,” I gasped as Nate pulled off my shirt and Lee took off my shorts.

They both hesitated, I could feel it. “Oh c’mon,” I moaned, “you’re both tooootally hot, and you haven’t touched at allllll.”

Suddenly, Lee picked me up and threw me on a random frat bro’s bed. “I guess your mouth IS gonna be busy,” he said, which was SOOO hot, and then he started slicking up my hole.

Pretty soon, both hunks were balls deep in me. They were SOOOOOO big [doodles of massive, soft cocks cover the margins of this page] and I took ALL of them. Lee filled me up SO good, rubbing my prostate like he was fingering me. And Nate tasted, like, perfect. And the whole time, Nate kept pulling back just far enough that I could watch him and Lee kissing over me.

FUCK, they made me look like a little doll between them! I think once they were in me, all the dominance stuff went away, because they were TOTALLY making out. Nate’s, like, SO noisy, and Lee kept on doing that growl thing like he’d done before, which made me moan around Nate’s cock, which made him even noisier.

I came handsfree right before Lee flooded my ass and Nate filled my mouth with cum.

By the time our clothes were back on, Lee and Nate were back to playing their weird dick measuring game, keeping me between them as we went back to the party. I think Nate left pretty soon, but I danced for a bit longer and made out with a few frat bros. They really ARE super cute now, and they all seemed totally into me. Guess they finally got over being raging fucking homophobes lmao.

Anyway, I got home and crashed as soon as I’d cleaned all the cum and sweat off. Now my hand’s all crampy from writing for so long lol. Oooh, I should go tell Ollie all about it!

[Day Three]

I was, like, SO right.

The last few days have been AWESOME!!!! [jagged star doodles all around the word] I swear there are soooo many hunks on campus all of a sudden! One of my profs this term is a tooootal musclestud.

So I’m taking this class on fashion history, and when I looked it up, this Prof. Romano guy was listed for it. He was cute, one of those cute tweed aesthetic guys. You know, a fag who studies fashion. Like, OMG, that picture must be SO OLD.

I show up for class all ready to sit in the back row, but then I see this MAN standing at the podium. Like, total Italian stallion, with the dark waves and the stubbly jaw. He was, like, BURSTING out of his blazer. I could watch his pec bounce through three layers of fabric.

So obv I run down and sit in the front row. I’m not the first fag to have the idea, there’s already like 3 other twinks down there, but I’m totally the cutest. As the rest of the class comes in and sits down, these two GORGEOUS boys walk in and go up to the prof. They’re totally shredded, and dressed in complementary button-ups. And the muscle-god prof pats each of them on the head! Then they go sit down in some chairs behind the podium, and I can see their boners in their cute slacks.

The prof clears his throat, and it’s this DEEP, RESONANT sound. I got a total eargasm just listening to the rumble. “Good morning, class,” he says. And then his next words are TOTALLY burned into my brain:

[written in shaky block letters across a whole page] “You will call me Alpha Mario.”

And then he says, “I am your professor, and I will see you all for extra credit,” while rubbing himself through his pants, like half the class isn’t ready to have his babies. My cock was ROCK FUCKING HARD in my jeans. [doodle of a leaking penis]

He introduces his TAs as Beta Max and Beta Owen. IDK, maybe it’s a kink thing? He’s clearly their dom or something, they were totally devoted to him all class. I’d happily be Alpha Mario’s Beta if he’s hiring, lmao! [hearts are doodled around “Alpha Mario”]

Anyway, that’s just one ep in the PORN SHOW that is my life these days! Ollie’s room has been, like, a revolving door of cock since we got back, and I usually take two or three loads a day out on campus. This group of straight computer science geeks actually begged to fuck me yesterday, so I was dripping all the way home.

They were surprisingly buff for nerds, too! I should point out to Ollie that we gotta hit the gym if we wanna keep up with all the boys on campus this term. Can you imagine? Us at the gym! [The rest of the page is covered in stickers of the laughing emoji]

[Day Four]

Went to the gym today! Not to workout, but I had this new outfit idea and I thought it might get me noticed if I just hung out in the locker room. OH BOY, was I right!

Last few days all my clothes have been feeling super tight, so I’ve been doing a lot of [scribbled in rainbow marker] SHOPPING. It’s too bad, all my old clothes were suuuuper cute, but I’ve started giving some of my old faves to repeat fuckbuddies. One of the guys who used to push me around for being faggy, this guy called Brendan, has been coming over for the last few nights. I never realised how cute he is before!

Anyway, the first night Brendan came over he throatfucked me, but last night he told me he really wanted to feel my fingers in his hole, so I started fingering him! It was soooo hot that my cock ended up totally hard and before I knew it HE was blowing ME while I rubbed his prostate. He’s been texting me all day, begging to service my cock again. Lol, he just sent a voice message all like, “Please, Ronaldo, I’ll do anything to make you cum again!”

My point is I gave him a pair of my old booty shorts. They fit him perfectly, even though he NEVER had an ass as nice as mine before. He’s been wearing them all day today, just like I told him. It’s so hot, knowing he’s showing off like a fag even though he used to be a straight homophobe.

Fuck, I was writing about MY clothes! I’ve been so distracted by hot beta boys the last few days. I thought it was kinda time to change up my style, plus I looked super hot trying on some more dude-type clothes, so here’s the pic of me I took while I was hanging out at the gym.

I had guys HANGING OFF OF ME after a few minutes. It was totally hot, they wanted to do anything I said. Before long, I had a bunch of hot guys kissing me all over and all the cocks I could want to suck. Guys kept running out to grab their hot friends to join us, and all these guys were focussed on me.

At one point one of the staff came in, and I could tell it was to tell us to stop. He was a cute guy, really filled out his work polo, you know how gyms always hire swole dudes and curvy gurls to work at the front desk. I just gave him this LOOK from the middle of my pile of dudes, and I could feel his straightness melt away as his cock started leaking in his preppy shorts.

But just as I was about to cum, my cap got ripped off my head and I was dragged out of the pile by Nate, the guy from that frat party. I swear, he got even BIGGER since last time, he held me up by my shoulders like I was a paperweight. He was totally growling at me, too. He said something like, “I hate when they’re half done,” whatever that means, and then he yelled at all the other boys to get back to work.

Once we were along in the locker room, Nate shook me like a doll. “All the ex-het Betas can treat my gym as neutral ground, but it’s MY territory to you and the other half-done Alphas, you got it?” [note: Alpha and Beta are capitalised in the original text, although Ronnie does not seem to have been aware of the Alpha Phenomenon]

I was like “What are you talking about?”

Nate said, “You’ll get it.” Then I started smelling this INCREDIBLE smell. It was like really sharp cedar cologne mixed with fresh sweat. There was something else too, and it made me feel totally out of it.

Next thing I knew, I was on my knees swallowing Nate’s cock again. “Yeah,” he was saying while he fucked my throat, “this’ll speed you up. You’ll probably never submit again after this, so I’m gonna enjoy it.”

I just stayed there, taking him all the way into my throat. I feel like a week ago it would’ve been totally hot, but today it felt different. Nate using me made me MAD [underlined several times]. I felt like I should do something about it, like punch him or steal one of his boys, but the smell coming off of him kept me docile.

Nate came really quietly, which made me madder. My throat is an incredible tool, okay? Any guy should be screaming when I blow him, especially a noisy top like Nate. Then he patted me on the head like I was a little boy and said, “Head home. Drop a load in that guy who lives across from you, he should be progressing well too.” Then he just. Walked away.

I was gonna stay here all night just to spite the asshole, but I’m super horny again and I don’t wanna go back out. Maybe I’ll go see if Ollie’s got any visitors tonight or if he wants me to fill his holes for him.

[Day Five]

[From this point, entries are written in a noticeably heavier hand. Lowercase Es and Os become jagged.] Fuck, last night was fucking awesome. I knocked on Ollie’s door, and he answered in nothing but a thong, showing his bottom growth right through the fabric. His legs have been getting so hairy and thick, he looked super slutty. Plus his room smelled like sex and cum. I’ve been sleeping out, but seems like Ollie’s been taking house calls.

“Ronaldo?” he said, blinking up at me in surprise. I think we used to be a matching pair of little twinks, but guess I’ve had a growth spurt.

I shoved through the door. What was he gonna do, stop me? I was like, “Where’s your lube?” It came out of my mouth so deep, in a crazy manly register. “I wanna finger you.”

Ollie fuckin’ moaned when I said that, and stumbled over to his night table to grab it. He keeps his lube right out in the open, proud of how much cock he takes. I was already dropping my jeans, my cock was getting super hard and I hate feeling it strain. It deserves to be seen anyway.

Once I grabbed Ollie’s lube, he stood against the wall and presented his ass for me. Fuck, just remembering the look of all that hair on his fat ass is making me leak again. Okay I jerked a bit, should be able to write. [there is a stain on the page here]

Ollie’s hole was still loose from his last dick appointment, so I pushed three fingers in nice and easy. Ollie was moaning, all, “When did your fingers get so thick,” and “What’s happening to us, Ronaldo?” so I roughed up his G-spot a bit until he wasn’t being so articulate anymore.

“What’s happening to us is we’re gonna rule this school,” I hissed at him. I’d realised that it wasn’t gonna be enough to finger him and make him blow me. I needed to shoot inside his ass right fucking now. “Fags are in fucking charge here now.”

Fuck, wait, I need to text Brendan and get him over here. I need him milking my cock so I can focus on writing.

[There are several crude doodles of dicks, asses, and cum splatters in various marker colours before the entry continues on the facing page]

So anyway I slammed Ollie against the wall and shoved my cock into him. My cock’s so much fucking bigger now, too. Like it’s really filling up Brendan’s mouth while he sucks on me. I had enough cock to really saw at Ollie's asshole, and I felt him cum handsfree onto the wall.

“That’s it,” I growled in his ear as I had to hold him up. “This is what you’ve wanted ever since we became neighbours, right? Ollie wanted to get Ronnie’s big alpha dick in his hole.” It felt good to call myself a

[in massive letters on its own line] ALPHA

Ollie didn’t really say words at that point, just lots of “Yes” and “More.” I could hear his voice getting deeper with every thrust, too.

By the time I was getting close, Ollie’s room reeked like ME. It wasn’t a bad smell, but I knew any boy who came in here would be able to tell that all this musk and spice wasn’t just Ollie. It would take weeks for this to be really Ollie’s territory again now that I had marked it. “Fuck, show me that man pussy,” I ordered him, and threw him down in his bed.

Switching holes felt like the most natural thing in the world. I’m fucking built for topping, I can’t believe I thought I hated it. I fucked Ollie through a couple more orgasms and then let myself fill up his man pussy with what felt like 3 loads.

I fell asleep still inside him.

FUCK. I just came in Brendan’s mouth, and it felt totally different. Like, I marked Ollie’s room, but I didn’t mark HIM. His holes are open for anyone to fill. He can own other boys for all I care. But Brendan? Brendan’s fucking MINE. He’s mine he’s mine he’s mine. MY Brendan. [scribbled hastily] I need his hole NOW.

[written later]

I took a pic of Ollie before I started fingering him. I bet he looks totally different now, like me. Gotta go, MY Brendan’s gonna show me how to do a gym session.

To Be Continued...

#alphaworld #male transformation #mental change #male tf #muscle tf #reality change #musk tf #dom tf #hairy tf #gradual change #all fwkong

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jasntodds · 8 months

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Petrichor [7]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 14,007

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of scars, mentions of a panic attack, manipulation, canon drug use, comic book science? Titans science? (author's note at the end lol), canon violence, blood, bruises, gore, breaking bones, mentions of nightmares, canon character death (I'm so sorry)

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work.Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: Happy birthday to Jason Todd!! So, sorry I did this for his birthday lmao I lied, this is longer than I thought it would be lol But I'm so sorry. I don't have anything else to say for myself besides canon made me do it and so did the comics lol I hope you guys like it!! If you want context from book 1, let me know and I’ll tell you!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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Over the next couple of weeks, Jason continues to go to therapy as directed by Bruce. To his surprise, it actually seems to be helping a little bit. He’s still having nightmares but they aren’t every night anymore. His hands aren’t shaking as badly either. He just feels a little bit better. Maybe Bruce and you were right about Leslie.

You and Jason are doing better, too. There have been moments where he’s gotten a little too frustrated but he remembers your talk and you give him a little bit of space until he’s ready to talk. It works for the both of you. You go on dates at least once a week and you both actually feel normal during the day. It’s not about being a vigilante and figuring out how to survive.

You go out on patrol three days a week instead of six. This is Jason’s thing and you know it bothers him. You can wait to patrol every night until he gets Robin back. It doesn’t bother you that much. And this way, you get to spend more time together and exist in a normal way that you desperately craved. You are a normal couple for once.

Above all of that, it’s been good. Things have been good. And while that is terrifying, you and Jason stick it out anyway. You don’t run or push. You both want to sometimes because it’s easier but you’re both fucking happy. So, you don’t. You don’t do it because losing each other is worse than anything the other could ever dish out. Running and pushing wouldn’t do either of you any good for the first time in your lives. So, you both enjoy the happiness together. Until things come to a screeching halt.

You're in the living room, having a FaceTime TV marathon with Gar when Bruce comes home. He offers a quick hello before trying to walk off but you call him anyway. He’s home a lot later than he should be since he went to pick up Jason. It was his request you stay back this time.

“Where’s Jason?” You question.

In all fairness, you wouldn’t be asking him normally but you also haven’t heard much from Jason since his therapy session ended. He said Bruce was taking him somewhere so he would be home later. And that was kind of the end of it. He’s been doing quite a bit better so you haven’t been as worried when he doesn’t text you back right away. But now Bruce is here without him.

“In the city.” Bruce answers plainly.

“Why? You went to pick him up?” You raise a brow and something happened. Jason texted you in the car. He was fine and with Bruce.

You look at the time and see that was a few hours ago.

“He’s upset. I’m giving him space. You should, too.” Bruce states.

“What did you do?” You deadpan, pulling up the text thread with Jason.

“I did not do anything.” Bruce defends. “He’ll be home soon.” Bruce states before he walks off.

“Everything okay?” Gar asks.

“Nope.” You shake your head. “I assume they got into some sort of fight again.” You roll your eyes. “Did he text you by chance?” You ask seeing the read receipt from a few hours ago.

Gar checks his phone and the last he heard from Jason was that morning. “No, he hasn’t texted me since this morning. What’s going on?”

You: you okay? Bruce said you’re upset what happened?

“I have no idea. He was fine earlier.” You let out a sigh, looking back at Gar through the tablet screen.

“You said he’s been better, right? Maybe he’s just blowing off steam from Bruce.” Gar suggests. Jason has shared some of the stuff that's happened and has complained a little about Bruce.

“Yeah, but if that’s the case, he usually comes to me to bitch about Bruce because I always agree with him.” You give Gar a grin just as your phone goes off.

Jaybird 🥰: fuck bruce I’m fine don’t worry

You: what happened? Do you want me to come get you?

“Well he texted me back and I was right, fight with Bruce.” You roll your eyes.

They fight sometimes, usually about Robin-related things or Jason wanting to do something reckless and Bruce putting a stop to it. Jason’s usually only a mad an hour or so before he’s fine and over it. Jason doesn’t hold very many grudges.

“Did he say about what?” Gar asks.

“Nope. Just said, fuck Bruce.”

Jaybird 🥰: no just wanna be alone still you and me love you ❤️

You: call or text every so often so I know you’re okay please I love you, too 🥰

“What’d he say?” Gar asks. He worries enough for the both of you/

“He wants to be alone and when Jason wants to be alone that is never good. But we have this thing where I let him be alone and then he tells me about it later. So, I guess I have to wait. If he isn’t home or texting me in a few hours, I’ll go look for him.” You reluctantly put your phone down. Giving Jason space is never easy.

“Think he’ll be alright?” Gar asks with worry in his voice.

“Yeah, him and Bruce fight sometimes. I’m sure it’s nothing too bad, Bruce probably just said something stupid and Jason was already in a mood.” You let out a sigh as the worry feeling gnaws at your stomach.

“Did you want to still—“

“Yeah, yeah, no. We can keep watching. He said he’ll text me.” You offer a soft smile while the two of you continue your show.

It’s not fair. It’s utter bullshit. Jason can’t help the way his blood is boiling and fuming while his hands shake. Bruce doesn’t think he’s good enough to be Robin. Bruce gave up on him. Jason is supposed to be his son and Bruce gave up on him anyway but he never gave up on Dick. If Jason weren’t so weak, this whole thing never would have happened. But he’s gonna prove to Bruce he can be Robin. He can be the best Robin and he can be a better Batman, too. He just needs a little help in the fear department.

He’s desperate. He tells himself this is a one-time thing. Fear creeps in his throat, grasping to be let out in the damp air. It’s a one-time thing, he tells himself. He’s out of options if he wants to be Robin. He’s out of options if he wants to keep the most important thing in his life. All he needs is a quick fix to fear and he’ll be back out there, better than he has ever been. He’ll prove it to Bruce. Bruce is wrong about him.

Bruce thinks he’s a mistake. He thinks Jason isn't worth the trouble just like everyone else. Bruce thinks Jason is weak. He thought Jason could replace Dick and he couldn’t. Not as Robin and not as Bruce’s son. But if he can get rid of his fear, he can show him how wrong he is. He isn’t just another mistake. He isn’t weak and he’s better than Dick. He swears this will be it. It won’t be bad. He can handle this. He swears it’ll all be fine. So, he hangs up on Leslie and heads inside the gates of Arkham Asylum as rain patters around him.

He’s a master manipulator. Jason knows that. It’s one of the things he’s best at. But the desperation for a cure to fear clouds every aspect of that. The desperation doesn’t let him see why Crane wants information for the cure. He can’t see Crane’s angel in his state of paralyzed desperation. And Jason has been manipulated before. He swears he’ll know if Crane is manipulating him because he knows what to look out for this time. But, desperation and the fear of being scared forever, go hand in hand. Fear and desperation cloud everything. He tosses his loyalty from the window as he gets closer to the formula. Crane gives him a piece of it with every piece of information Jason gives him.

“Tell me about the first Robin.” Crane offers this grin that sends a chill down Jason’s spine.

“Like what?” Jason huffs.

“His name, where he is, everything you know.”

“Dick Grayson. He’s in San Francisco and goes by Nightwing.” Jason explains, throwing Dick completely under the bus. He has a problem with Dick now anyway. Dick Grayson has always been the goody two shoes and Bruce’s favorite. Jason only got to be Robin because Dick abandoned Bruce. Jason was a filler. “He’s with the Titans. He got Deathstroke’s son killed and dropped me from a skyscraper.” Jason lets out a scoff.

“Interesting. Doesn’t seem to be the golden boy Bruce portrayed him as.” Crane grins and this is easier than he thought it would be. Jason has no problems rolling, apparently and Crane knows he’s going to use that to his advantage.

He’s broken. He’s desperate and Crane has the cure he wants. This is going to be easy and Crane gets all benefits. Jason lets him take down the Bat but in the best way. Crane is going to get the Bat’s son to turn on him and get rid of him. To break him. And then Dick Grayson and all of Gotham will follow. Crane finds the whole thing a little poetic. He can use him. And Jason will never see through it once he figures out the formula.

“Yep.” Jason answers simply, wanting to get this over with and Crane offers him a piece of the formula.

“The Titans. Who are they?” Crane asks, hiding the malicious intent behind curiosity.

Jason looks up to him and he doesn’t like to throw some of the others under the bus. But Crane is here. He can’t do anything. And most of them thought he was just Dick’s weaker replacement anyway. They gave up, too.

“Rachel Roth, Raven. Hank Hall, Hawk. Dawn Granger, Dove. Kory Anders, Starfire. Conner Kent, Superboy. Gar Logan, Beast Boy.” Jason pauses, waiting to see if Crane knows more.

Of course, he does. He’s in Arkham, not living under a rock. The Bat gains a new sidekick and everyone knows about it. Crane is only taking a guess the new sidekick also was a Titan based on when you showed up and your close proximity with Robin, himself. He saw Jason’s hesitance on his face. The fear.

Crane chuckles softly. “Aren’t you missing someone, pal?” Crane asks, almost a little too warmly. “Could have sworn there was one more.”

Jason grits his teeth and he’s so sorry.

When he came up with this plan, he had a feeling Crane would want information. He came prepared for it. Part of that preparation was leaving you the hell out of it. Not you. Crane can’t know about you. Anyone but you. But he does know. He already knows you're a Titan and he already knows you work for Bruce. Jason has no choice if he wants the formula. And he is so sorry.

Jason says your name with bitterness on his tongue. “Bluejay. She doesn't really like the name thing though.” Jason answers.

Crane has a soft smile. “She’s the new bird. So many of you are birds.” Crane chuckles. “I do find it interesting you would try to leave her out of it. She’s the new edition to Batman. Let me guess,” Crane boasts around his cell. “Your girlfriend.”

Not you. You've done everything you can to save him and help him. He loves you. Not you. Anyone but you.

“No.” Jason answers. “Just friends.” He bites the words because maybe Crane doesn’t know for sure you’re together and he wants you at arm's length.

“If you want the formula, you really shouldn’t lie to me.” Crane has a sinister smile. “You wouldn’t leave her out of it if you were just friends.” Crane lets the words fall with ease.

He’s so fucking sorry.

“Yeah, okay fine. Girlfriend.” Jason spits.

He knows you’ll never forgive him if you find out. You can’t tell Molly anything but he’s here telling Crane everything. You're going to hate him. But he needs a cure. He can’t feel this way forever. He can’t do it. He doesn't think he’ll be able to live like this anymore.

“Ah, young love.” Crane smiles with that shrug of his shoulders. You're going to be an interesting obstacle in this one. He’s already trying to protect you from this. Crane knows he needs to break that bond as fast as he can if he wants this plan to work. “I want to know about her.” There’s this look that crosses Crane’s eyes and Jason almost turns around.

But he doesn’t.

“Why? She’s not with the fucking Titans and she hates Bruce. She works with him because of me. That’s it. She got a suit out of it and a place to stay.”

“I’m a bit of a romantic, myself. Love stories are cute. Always having someone on your side, through thick and thin. It is quite romantic, don’t you think? If we’re going to work together, I want to know why she’s so important to you.” Crane grins. “You can trust me, boy. We want the same things and the way the Bat has treated you…it’s so cruel. But I, I believe in you. That’s why I’m helping you. You trust me, don’t you?”

You're going to kill him. Guilt chews at his limbs. His jaw squares and he thinks swallowing his own teeth would be easier than this. But he has to. Maybe Crane is being sincere. Jason thinks he is. At least enough. Maybe if Jason tells him enough, Crane will see you aren’t a problem. Maybe he’ll see you would side with them. You want Gotham to be better, you don’t agree with Bruce’s ways. Maybe Crane will understand. He’s helping Jason, maybe he can help you. You're scared, too.

“Dick found her.” Jason answers reluctantly. “She joined the Titans. We went after Deathstroke together. Got kidnapped and dropped from the skyscraper. Dick saved her. CADMUS attacked her, Gar, and Conner when I was gone. Dick left them alone when shit hit the fan. CADMUS left her for dead. So, she came back to Gotham.” Jason explains.

“She was there with Deathstroke.” Crane lets out a sigh and like Bruce, in a way, he can always tell when someone could need him. Someone who’s been traumatized. His intentions aren’t as pure as Bruce’s. “But Dick saved her and not you. Did you save her?”

“It wasn’t like that.” Jason shakes his head. “Dick tried to save me first and dropped me. Then he saved her. But yeah,” Jason nods. “I protected her and she did the same shit for me.”

“The two of you went through something so traumatic together. That really must have brought you closer. It’s not as romantic as I was hoping for but it is quite nice.” Crane grins. “She has powers, doesn’t she?”

“Acid generation.” Jason stares, leaving out the combat clairvoyance and the possibility of you having sharp shooting abilities. Two things Crane can’t prove Jason lied about.

“Now that is interesting. Does she know you’re here right now? Asking for my help?”

“No.” Jason shakes his head. “Look, she’s got nothing to with this shit. But, I can get her on our side. The other Titans targeted me for all types of shit I didn’t do and she was the only one on my side. She’s not a fucking problem. I can handle her.”

Crane grins and that’s all he needs. Jason is already hiding something huge from you. The distrust will be there and Jason doesn’t know Crane’s whole plan. If it goes the way he thinks it will, it’ll break your relationship. He will have no one left besides Crane. Exactly how he wants it. So, he decides he’ll let Jason think he believes this whole thing and moves back to the Titans.

“I do hope you’re right.” Crane sighs. “Tell me everything that happened in San Fransisco, with all of the Titans.”

Jason lets out a sigh before he spills every piece of information. He tells him everything from Trigon to Deathstroke to CADMUS. He tells him about the Titans turning on him for something he didn’t do, you talking him off the roof. Dick's confession and Donna’s death. Everything.

Then he tells Crane everything he knows about Bruce. The manor, the Batcave. Everything. He tells Crane about his training and the cabin, how Bruce found him and how Bruce found Dick. He spills and Crane lets him talk. Crane listens a lot but asks questions where he finds needed but he mostly just lets Jason talk as Jason keeps you out of it as much as he can. Jason is far more cooperative when it comes to everyone else.

Crane figures once he figures out the formula, he can get more information on you and use it against him if he needs to. He can’t have anyone if this is going to work and Crane knows exactly how he’ll be able to accomplish it. But for now, it’s about the Titans and Bruce. By the time Jason finishes, he’s got the formula tucked away in his pocket, ready to let fear go.

Jason pulls his phone from his pocket once he’s far enough away from Arkham. He’s spent the walk running over every lie he could tell you. Guilt eats at him with every step he takes. You're gonna kill him. He’s gonna lie to you because he knows for a fact, you’ll freak out. You’ll think he’s gone off the deep end and you’ll tell Dick. You’ll drag him kicking and screaming out of Gotham. You’ll tell Arkham and he won’t be able to see Crane again. It’s not fair and it’s not right. But you can’t know. And a part of him finds that to be unfair, too because he’s gonna fix his fear while you have to suffer with yours. That’s not fair to you. So, he thinks.

Maybe he can figure out a way to bring it up without bringing it up. Maybe he can try to see how you’d feel about a way to get rid of fear. If you seem for it, then he can tell you. He can see if you want to help. But the more he thinks about that, the more he thinks about Crane.

You’d have to be involved with him. Jason doesn’t want you involved with him. Not him. And he knows, the second he tells you about Crane, you’ll lose it. Even if you want a cure-all. You’ll bail the second you hear about Crane. You would never work with a guy like that. So, he has no choice. It’s that or end it and he doesn’t want to do that either.

“Hey.” Jason says as you pick up the phone.

“Jay? Where are you? I’ve been texting you to make sure you were okay.” He can hear your worry and he thinks maybe the anti-fear drug will make him not worry. Maybe you don’t want to worry so much.

“I’m sorry.” Jason clears his throat. “I needed to clear my damn head. I’m fine. Can you come get me, please?”

“Yeah, of course. Where are you?” You answer and Jason can hear you rustling on the other end.

“I’ll text you the address.” Jason states. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” You hang up and get to your feet while Jason texts you the address.

When you reach Jason, he’s soaked. Your heart aches, feeling like it’s being squeezed right through your rib cage at the sight of him. He looks exhausted and lost. He looks distant and he is drenched from the winter rain. Something bad happened and you have no idea how you're going to be able to help.

You take off your helmet, not getting off the bike. “Jay, are you okay?”

Jason gets up from the curb and walks up to you, offering you a fake smile. “Yeah.” His jaw clenches and he doesn’t even want to go home. He doesn’t want to see Bruce. He’d rather be outside in the cold. “All good.”

“What happened?” You reach out but Jason dodges you, reaching for his helmet. A lump grows in your throat. He doesn’t dodge you. Not like that.

“Bruce took Robin away.” Jason’s voice cracks as he shakes his head.

He dodges your stare. He doesn’t want to see the look you’ll give him. On the one hand, he’ll feel guilty. He’ll feel guilty for lying and talking to Crane. And on the other, you’ll give him a look that screams pity and that is the last thing he needs. Jason Todd doesn’t need anyone’s pity.

“What do you mean?” You question.

“Like fucking permanently. He said I can’t be Robin anymore.” Jason lets out a bitter scoff as he feels the anger come back to his bloodstream.

“Jay, I’m so sorry.” You say softly.

You never thought Bruce would take it away like that. Jason has been doing everything Bruce asked him to do. Ever since the Pete Hawkins thing, Jason has backed off entirely. He is putting a real effort into therapy, really trying to let the process help. Why would Bruce rip it away from him?

“Fuck him. I’m gonna fucking show him he’s wrong. He's fucking wrong about me.” Jason grits his teeth.

“He is.” You nod your head. “Come on. Let’s get you home and warm and we can talk more, okay?”

“Whatever.” Jason scoffs, popping his helmet on before he gets on the back and holds onto you while you drive back to the manor.

You get Jason back to the manor and into a warm shower. He says almost nothing. It’s as if he’s completely numb and it breaks you to see him like this. Jason is anything but quiet in a shower with you, usually. And he’s always handsy and cheeky. But, tonight, he’s just quiet, going through the motions, stuck on his own head.

You don’t understand how Bruce could take Robin away like that. It’s not fair. Jason does what Bruce asks him to and he messes up sometimes but that’s normal. How does he not see Robin is the most important thing to him? You even told him that. And he took Robin anyway. He never should have let him be Robin in the first place if this was something that could happen. Dick almost killed someone and he didn’t take Robin from Dick. Jason tries his best. Why isn’t that good enough for Bruce?

Dick was always right about him.

Jason plops onto your bed, his eyes red and puffy. His heart feels like it’s being crushed by cinderblocks. It all hurts. How did he really let another person down? How was he fooled into believing Bruce was different than everyone else? He thinks about his dad. His dad wasn’t a good person but Jason, sometimes, wonders if it was him. Maybe it was his fault his dad was like that. Maybe it was different before him. His dad didn’t choose to be his dad. But Bruce chose it. And still is giving up on him. Jason is Bruce’s son by choice, he thought the choice of picking a son, would make it different. But it’s the same old story Jason hates retelling.

He fucks up and people give up.

“Want me to rub your back while you tell me about it?” You offer as you stand in between his legs, looking down at him.

Jason looks up at you and you always worried so much. He wishes he could be better so you wouldn’t worry about him. He wonders why you choose him. You don’t have to, like Bruce. But you do. He wonders if one day you’ll stop. If his mom and his dad and his uncle and Dick and Bruce all chose other things over him, why wouldn't you? But he looks up at you and you give him this soft smile with your fingertips brushing his knees with care and he thinks you're still different than everyone else.

Jason cracks a soft smile. “Yeah, actually. Thank you.”

“Of course.” You smile softly.

Jason switches to his stomach, facing the TV just as you did the first day you started your friends-with-benefits situation. You sit on top of him and run your hands over his back. Your hands are cold, sending goosebumps up his spine. Your hands are always cold, something he always finds a bit ironic given the acid generation warms your hands. But your fingers are soft as you trace over the scars on his back. You do it every time and he always meant to ask.

“Why do you do that?” Jason asks, his eyes closed with his head on his hands.

“Do what?” You ask as you start rubbing his shoulders.

“Trace the scars.”

“I dunno.” You shake your head and you didn’t realize you did it often enough for him to notice.

You're not even sure why you do it. It’s something mindless. Maybe it’s your subconscious wishing if you trace them enough times, it’ll remove the damage the scars have caused him, like a magic eraser. Or maybe tracing the scars is confirmation he’s real.

Sometimes, you have a hard time believing he’s real. All of this is real. You used to dream of a life outside of the basement, sometimes they’d feel so real you could swear they were. Wishful thinking.

Maybe you trace them as confirmation that the raised and paled skin is real, Jason is here with you and you're not dreaming. Maybe you like the way the scars look on his skin but he managed to pull through all of his terrible shit and make it out the other end with a smart mouth and a heart of gold anyway. Maybe, you just do it because you care about him regardless of the scars and what made them.

“Does it bother you?” You ask softly.

“No.” Jason answers. “Just wondering.”

It always makes him feel vulnerable, a harsh reminder he is not invincible as much as he likes to believe he is sometimes. He might have survived those injuries but they’re there as harsh reminders. And you touch them and he thinks maybe you find comfort in them, because you have them, too. And that’s always enough for him. He thinks it makes him feel human and real and alive. He always feels a little exposed but it’s become comforting with you.

“What happened?”

He thinks he has his lies in order. He knows he might be sabotaging the relationship. Despite everything he thinks as you massage over the scar on his back, he knows. He knows you might not forgive him. There’s always a chance you won’t be so understanding when you inevitably find out because you always figure him out. But it's a risk he has to take.

He can’t keep doing this anymore. He can’t keep not sleeping. He can’t keep shaking and freezing. He can’t keep living like this. He knows he can’t. It’ll destroy him. It’ll be miserable. The idea of going back to being useless and not good enough and a disappointment, he can’t live like that. He needs help now, before Bruce finds his replacement. Maybe you’ll understand that part.

“He fucking said he made mistakes and I guess I’m fucking one of them.” Jason scoffs from under you.

You narrow your eyes thinking Bruce didn’t actually say that. You have no faith in Bruce to communicate worth a shit given your conversation with him and given Jason and Dick. And Bruce might be very good at hiding his emotions, but you know he actually cares about Jason. You don’t think Bruce would ever tell Jason he was a mistake, even if he thought it.

“He said that?” You ask, pausing for a few seconds.

“Basically!” Jason groans. “And he doesn’t want to make more mistakes and he said I can’t be Robin anymore. He thinks I’m a fucking mental case. He doesn’t care it’s important to me. He doesn’t care that I’m doing what he wants me to. It doesn’t matter to him. It’s fucking bullshit.” Jason’s voice shakes as his back tenses under your palms.

“That’s not fair. I don’t know why he would do that. You were always a great Robin.” You say softly.

You wish you could have heard the conversation so you would know better what to say. But, you also know, even if Bruce didn’t say any of that and it came out wrong, it wouldn’t change anything for you to decipher it for him. At the end of the day, Bruce could have outright told Jason he loves him and he doesn’t want him to die and Jason would still be absolutely crushed with Robin being ripped away from him. Bruce’s delivery of the message doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything.

“Just fucking tired of being scared.” Jason lets out a defeated sigh. “Fucking gave up on me. Ya know, thought he was fucking different.” His voice is etched in pain and you wish you could take it all away. He never deserves the pain he gets.

It’s honest. He can be honest with you about that. Maybe he wants you to figure it out.

“Yeah, I get it. Being scared really sucks. You’ll get better though. I know I keep saying it but it takes time, Jay. Bruce should be giving you more time.” You say. “I’m really sorry about him.” You lean down and press a kiss to his shoulder blade. “You still have me, okay?”

He knows. He’ll always have you. Somewhere inside of him, he knows. The anxiety of you freaking out and leaving when you figure it out is there, but he also knows he’s given you every opportunity to take off and run. And you never do. You’d understand his desperation. You'd understand why he lied. He knows he still has you.

“What if there were a cure for fear?” Jason asks and he’s glad you can’t see his face. You’d know.

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrow.

“What if there was a cure? Like we can just take it and not be scared anymore.” Jason listens carefully, feeling your hands pause on his back. He knows without looking that you've got your right eyebrow raised at him, your eyes narrowing at him as if you can’t decide if he’s joking or serious.

“I mean that’d be great, but there would be consequences, right?” You question.

You're a little concerned with the question. But, that’d be insane. It’d be insane for him to really look for a cure to fear. You swear he’s just talking, doing one of his hypothetical talks he does like you do about the zombie apocalypse.

“Like what? Being fearless sounds pretty fucking good right about now.” Jason scoffs.

“We’ll, fear is just adrenaline, right? But that fear also keeps you looking both ways before crossing the street, it alerts you when someone is following you home. Without fear, also means you won’t have excitement. You’ll probably be emotionally numb to a lot of things. Not having adrenaline is dangerous though.” You answer.

“Yeah, but isn’t that fucking better than being scared all the damn time? You’re afraid of everything, too and your nightmares are back. You wouldn’t want something to stop it?” Jason looks over his shoulder.

Your nightmares came back a week and a half ago. You and Molly were on a walk and ran into Jerry’s Gotham house. You still don’t know how you missed it, but you did. You were walking and having a good time and you saw the house and that was it. You broke and it’s like all of the progress you made over the last few months evaporated into the atmosphere. Molly had to call Jason because you were having a panic attack and couldn’t snap out of it. The nightmares came back that night.

“Of course, I would.” You shrug.

You think about it and maybe it would be nice. If nothing else, just so you could get some damn proper sleep. So, you both could get some proper sleep. Maybe if you both got some sleep, you’d be better. Maybe Jason makes a good point but then you think about how happy you are when you see him and when a new movie comes out and your marathons with Gar. You wouldn’t want to trade those feelings for being fearless.

“But not if it means getting rid of everything else. Adrenaline also keeps us alive. I’ve been numb and that’s worse than being scared. Why?” You ask. “You trying to find a cure to fear or something?”

“No.” Jason scoffs, letting out a fake laugh and he was really hoping you’d be on his side with this one. “Just fucking saying, wish there were a cure. At least so I can be Robin.”

“Look, it sucks, Jaybird. But I don’t think the answer to being Robin is being fearless. You had to use that fear to survive out there, too. You’re gonna be okay and then you can go out and be your own hero. You don’t have to be Robin. Dick quit and became Nightwing. You don’t need Bruce to help people.” You say. “And I still think you’re plenty good enough. I’m just saying, if Bruce won’t let you, do it yourself when you get better. You’re good enough.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Jason sighs. “Maybe you’re right but he doesn’t believe in me anymore.” Jason says and you know it’s never your approval he’ll need. And that’s okay but you wish sometimes, like tonight, it were enough. “I’m gonna prove him wrong.”

“Good, fuck Bruce.” You smile softly. “Just…give it a little bit, okay? Keep seeing Leslie, too. She’s been helping.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Jason huffs.

“I’m serious, Jason. You do sleep more now. Seeing her is helping, just keep up with it. And then we’ll go out together. Fuck Bruce. We’ll be our own team.” You let out a soft chuckle.

“Thanks.” Jason lets out a sigh.

You make good points but his mind is made up. He’s going to do this. He doesn’t have time to wait around and hope for the best. He isn’t going to Leslie. He’s going to make the anti-fear drug and he won’t be scared anymore. Maybe you're right. Maybe he’ll be numb to everything but he doesn’t care anymore. He is desperate for a cure. He needs it. Maybe he can only use it to be Robin, just to prove himself. It’ll be a quick fix and that’ll be the end of it. Just use it out there and to sleep. You make good points, but he has to do this. And he is so sorry he has to lie about it.

Jason turns from under you so he can face you and you place your hands on his chest. You have a soft smile and he feels so guilty but you’ll understand. You’ll get it when he can function better, it’s just until this whole shit wears off. You’ll get it. If anyone will, it’ll be you.

“Thanks for not giving up on me.” Jason places his hands on your thighs, his thumbs rubbing softly against your bare skin.

“You and me.” You smile softly.

“Yeah.” Jason smiles looking at the necklace hanging from your neck. You haven't taken it off since he gave it to you. “You and me.”

“You okay?” Your voice is filled with love as you ask. No one ever asked like that before.

“Yeah.” Jason answers simply. “Just glad you’re here.”

“You sure? I’m really worried about you.” Your brows knit together. “You know I’ll always be here. No matter what.”

“I’m not gonna walk off a roof, I swear.” Jason’s eyes widen as a grin tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Good. I just know this is bad for you. I just hope you believe me because I believe in you.”

Jason sits up and places his fingers under your chin. “Thanks. Look, I’ll be fucking fine. Trust me. I got a plan.” Jason offers you a grin.

“That’s still mildly unsettling coming from you.” You smile. “What’s the plan?” You widen your eyes as your hands come to his shoulders, a teasing smirk coming to your lips.

“You’ll see.” Jason drops his hand to your waist.

“Oh, you’re not gonna tell me?” You laugh.

“What’s that you always say?” Jason teases. “We don’t always get what we want.” And he says your name, it comes out a little groveled but his voice is teasing.

“Shut up.” You groan.

“Do you trust me?” Jason asks as his hands squeeze your hips softly.

“Of course, I do. You know I do.” You answer.

“Trust me then. I got a plan. I’ll be back out there and proving everyone else wrong.” Jason holds his head with confidence.

You raise a brow at him. “Why do I have a bad feeling about that?” Jason and plans aren’t always a bad combination but he is desperate and hurt right now. You remember the last plan he had when he felt this way.

“Don’t. I got this. Like you said, I’ll be fine.” Jason presses a kiss to your lips.

“Right yeah, you will be.” You let out a sigh and you think it can’t be that bad. He’d tell you. “Okay. You’ll tell me through, right?”

“Of course, you and me.” Jason gives you a wild grin.

He hopes you won’t be mad.

The next day, Jason rents an apartment and sets up to work on making the anti-fear drug. ?You had plans with Molly anyway and that was the perfect excuse for him to get here all by himself to get to work. Plus, Bruce had to go out of town so that's one less person he has to worry about.

He feels guilt gnawing at his stomach like a bad stomach ulcer. But he works anyway. He works through it because this is the only way. And even if he wanted to back out, he already told Crane everything. If he wanted to back out, Crane could use that information against him. But, he doesn’t want to back out anyway, so he pushes the guilt and anxiety away as he puts together a botched drug.

You grow suspicious over the next few days. Jason is making weird and random excuses not to hang out. He’s always trying to get you to hang out more with Molly or for you to head to Excellent Gotham and get to know Tim better. You always need more friends, apparently. Normally, you wouldn’t think too much of it. Or you’d be worried he was distancing himself to leave. But it’s Jason and he’s definitely hiding something, so you follow him one day.

Your phone rings as you hide in the alley beside the building Jason walked into.

“Hello?” You ask.

“Why are you following me?” Jason asks.

He caught onto you following him a few blocks from the apartment he’s been using. He was Robin and a street kid, he knows when someone is following him. And he feels bad about it. For you to follow him, you have to be really worried. He doesn’t track you unless you get kidnapped and you don’t track him on his phone. You don’t follow each other. But you are. And he needs to find a way to assure you.

“I—“ You pause. “I-I’m not following you.” You scoff.

“Yeah, you are.” Jason states as he walks through the opposite end of the alley.

“Why do you think that?” You raise, crossing your arm across your chest.

“I can see you.” Jason answers, pulling the phone away from his ear as you jump, turning around to see Jason.

To be fair, you should have known he'd figure it out. But, you tried to be subtle and keep a far enough distance away from him. You put in a lot of effort. He's just more vigilant than you are, apparently.

“Oh, hey, Jay.” You give him a cheeky smile with a nervous laugh. “Whatcha doing?”

You might be following him. You might be figuring it out a little sooner than he'd personally like. But, he does find it a little cute. And a little amusing you really thought Jason wouldn't figure it out.

“Walking, what’re you doing, babe?” Jason quips, closing the rest of the distance between you.

You sigh in defeat. “Following you.”

Jason lets out a hearty laugh. “No shit. Why?”

“You’ve been…weird, sneaking around. Worried about you.” You groan as you scrunch your nose.

He's really not trying to worry you. He doesn't want you to worry about him anymore. Even if you would be completely against an anti-fear drug, a part of him thinks maybe if he has it, you won't have too many reasons to worry about him anymore. The way Jason sees it, he was always better off with less fear. Maybe the drug helping him, will help you. In a roundabout way.

“You don’t have to worry. I’m just working on something, alright?” He’s giving you that toothy grin that is always trouble.

“Right…that’s not nearly as reassuring as you think it is.” You quip back, the smile falling short.

“It’s a surprise, alright? Don’t worry so much.”

“A surprise?” You raise a brow.

“A surprise.” Jason echoes and it’s not technically a lie. “You said you trust me.”

“I do.” You groan. “I’m sorry. You just never sneak around. It’s weird, even for you.”

You chew the inside of your cheek and maybe you're being paranoid. You've always been a little on the paranoid side, especially since Jerry. And the paranoia decided to come back in full force with the nightmares. Maybe you're just paranoid, more worried about losing him. Things have been good, between you at least, you always get scared when things are good for too long.

Jason puts his hands on your shoulders. “I’m fine, babe. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Promise?” You ask.

“Promise.” Jason nods.

“Fine.” You sigh, taking his arms off of your shoulders and holding his right hand. “Just…whatever you’re up to, be careful.”

“Always.” Jason beams, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll see you at home, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.” You sigh, kissing him softly.

“Love you.” Jason grins, walking past you.

“I love you, too.” You watch him walk off and you really have a bad feeling about this one. But you can’t follow him and you have no reason not to trust him. So, you let him walk as you head back the way you came.

The next day, Jason gets the formula right. He uses an inhaler to take it and every fear he has ever had, melts away. It works. He did it. He got his cure to fear. So, he heads back to Arkham, high on the drug to confirm to Crane he got it despite the shotty formula.

And Crane already had a plan in motion. He had a feeling Jason would figure it out. So, he set up a plan and it’s time for the plan to go into motion so they can make Gotham theirs. Crane needs Jason to prove it works. What better way than to have him face off with the Joker alone? That’ll surely prove it. But, what Jason doesn’t know, is that Crane knows the downside to life without fear. Of course, he does. He’s the expert in it. Crane already has someone on the outside ready to handle it when this does not go the way Jason thinks it will. But is it perfect for Crane, another thing to hold over Jason’s head to control him.

And Jason doesn’t see the motive. So, Crane tells him to go after the Joker to prove it works and prove to the Bat he can do this. Jason doesn’t need Bruce. He can take care of the Joker all by himself. Jason, lacking all apprehension and self-preservation thanks to the drug, agrees easily. He’s not scared of him.

That next night, Jason convinces you to run out to the store. You were talking about needing some supplies for your scrapbook. You're reluctant at first, but decide to go. It’ll be quick. And Jason gets to work tracking the Joker.

But, with Jason at home, something just does not feel right to you. You make it all the way to the store, hoping the feeling will it go away, but it doesn't. So, you decide to call Molly, maybe Molly can talk you down.

“Hey.” Molly chimes through the phone.

“Hey, you busy?” You ask as you sit on the bike outside of the store.

“No, what’s up?”

You pause. It’s eating at you. Jason was weird as fuck last night when he came home and he’s been weird today. Convincing you to go to the store was weird. Him not coming with is also weird. And you have that feeling in the pit of your stomach. You shouldn’t have left.

“You….uh, I don’t know. I think I’m having a bad feeling so I just…need to talk I think.” You shake your head, the helmet weighing on your head a bit.

“What’s going on? Where’s Jason?” Molly asks.

“Home.” You answer. “I went to the store, he didn’t wanna come.”

“Is everything okay with you guys?”

“Yeah, yeah, all good. Not, uh, not what I wanted to talk about actually.”

“What’s going on?”

“Uh…do you…you know when something bad is gonna happen like really bad and you just….get this feeling? Like…right in the center of your stomach?”

You think you're being paranoid. It only happened once when your mom died. But since Jerry, you're always paranoid and the feeling comes back. Sometimes it’s wrong. Sometimes, it’s just you being paranoid. And you know that’s what this has to be because what could possibly happen to Jason at the manor?

“Yeah.” Molly nods her head because it happened with her mom. She just knew. “You have that feeling?”

“Yeah…I don’t know. Sometimes it's wrong. But it just…I don’t know. Feels bad.” You let out a sigh.

“When did it start?”

“Right before I left. Like, I got on the bike and I just….I don’t know. I think I’m gonna go home.” You shake your head and you can go home. You can always come back tomorrow.

“Are you sure? I mean...what if it’s a coincidence? Two’s a coincidence.” Molly tries to assure you.

“Yeah, I know but….what if it’s not? Can you stay on the phone with me while I get back?” You just can’t do it. It’s not a big deal.

“Yeah, of course.” Molly nods her head and you start the bike, taking off back to the manor. “What do you think it is?” Molly asks, mostly to talk you down.

“I don’t know.” You answer. “Jason’s been acting weird lately. I don’t know. I can’t explain it. It’s not….he’s…something’s off with him and I don’t know why I came. He told me to and maybe I listen to him a little too much sometimes. He said he was fine but I don’t know. I got a real bad feeling.” You groan.

“How far are you from the manor?”

“Like twenty minutes.”

“Well, if something is going on, you’re not that far and you haven’t been gone long. He couldn’t have gotten into too much trouble.” Molly tries to assure you but it doesn’t work.

The more you talk, the more paranoid you get. You know Molly is right. He couldn’t have gotten into too much trouble in the last half hour. But you worry anyway.

“Yeah, hey, can you conference him in? Just…give me some piece of mind before I get back.”

“Yeah, of course.” Molly states as she pulls the phone away from her ear and adds Jason to the call. The two of you listen as the phone rings and rings and rings. And then goes to voicemail.

“Fuck.” You let out a scoff as panic starts to flood your system.

“Maybe he’s--”

“No, he’d answer if it were you while I’m out. Call again.” You state and Molly does as told, getting voicemail again. You shake your head and you pull the throttle back, kicking the bike into third.

“Slow down.” Molly urges. “I’m sure he’s fine. Maybe he’s just in the bathroom.” Molly says as she hears the bike rev further.

“He’d answer. I know he would. Double calls. He would because why would you call him twice in a row unless it were important?” You argue.

You're begging for you to be wrong. You hope against everything in your body you're wrong. This one time, you have to be wrong.

“Okay, so what do you think is going on?” Molly asks.

“I don’t know!” You groan. “That’s the problem. I have no idea what’s been going on with him. I followed him a few days ago and he brushed it off. Like it was no big deal but he was sneaking around behind my back. He said he was planning something or some shit. Whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean.”

“You don’t think he’s like cheating--”

“No! Of course, not. He would never. I….” You bite your tongue because Molly doesn’t know about Robin. “I don’t know what the fuck he’s been doing but now he’s not answering. And I got this feeling. Hold on I’m at a stop light.” You groan, quick-dialing Jason as you watch the red light. The two of you listen as it goes to voicemail. And you try again. Voicemail. “Something’s wrong.” You say as the light turns green and you start weaving between cars.

“Because he’s not answering and you have a feeling? You sound paranoid.”

“I know.” You grit your teeth. “But he’d answer for me. I know he would. Especially calling him twice. He’d answer. I just...remember a few weeks ago when he got his ass kicked?”

“Yeah.” Molly wishes she could forget.

“Okay, so what if he went out on his own to try that guy again or something?” You spit, avoiding details about Robin because you're thinking he’s out Robining alone for some sort of spite against Bruce. He’s still mad. And maybe he froze and it got bad.

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he’s Jason.” You let out a breath.

You get back to the manor, switching the call to your phone instead of your helmet. You make your way into the manor and call for Jason. The manor is silent. It’s not even like that’s abnormal. Jason isn’t really loud and neither is Bruce. But, the quiet and lack of Jason answering is eery and unsettling.

You search your rooms and living rooms and kitchens. He’s nowhere to be found and your heart sinks further. So, you go to the Batcave. Hoping maybe, he’s just training. Maybe Molly is right. Maybe he’s just busy. Maybe his phone died and he didn’t realize it. That’s possible. It’s Jason. He isn’t the type that’s glued to his phone. Maybe.

But that hope dies as you reach the Batcomputer, seeing Amusement Mile pulled up with the Joker’s location.

No, no, no, no.

“I’m sure he went out and he’ll be--”

“Fuck!” You yell as you look to the display case. The Robin suit is gone.

Molly calls your name and now she’s worried.

“What a fucking---” You cut yourself off as you grit your teeth. “Molly, I gotta go.”

“Molly yells your name, her voice now completely panicked.

“I can’t. I’m sorry. I’ll call you. I have to call Bruce.” You rush as you hang up, running over to your own display case holding your suit. You rip the case open and grab the suit as you put Bruce on speaker. “Bruce!?” You yell into the phone as you jump around, getting the suit on as fast as you can.

This can’t be happening. The Joker? Of all fucking people, that’s who he decides he’s going to go after to prove himself? Why the hell would he ever do that? You try your best not to focus on the millions of questions you have for him and the fact you're ready to scream at him for the twenty-four hours. You have to focus because it’s the fucking Joker. He’s taken too much from you.

Bruce can hear the absolute panic in your voice. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Jason! I fucking told you! He went after the fucking Joker!” You scream into the phone as you zip the front of your suit and put the mask over your mouth.

“I told him not to.” Bruce says calmly, but a part of him is panicking.

Bruce doesn’t panic but there is no way you would be calling him and telling him this if it weren’t true. Jason knows better. Why would he go after the Joker? On his own?

“Oh, because Jason is so fucking good at following instructions?!” You run over to the weapons once you're completely suited up.

On the one hand, Bruce could send you after him. That’s at least, two against one. But, it’s the Joker. And Bruce knows he’s more ruthless than anyone. It’s a fun game to him like whack-a-mole. And the prize is always bloodshed. He also knows how you feel and if he sends you, not only could you go out and get killed but you could kill him first. That’s a life on Bruce’s conscious.

“Do not go anywhere. I’m on a flight—“

“No! You don’t get to tell me to fucking sit here and hope for the fucking best. He is everything to me and I am not gonna sit here and let him get fucking killed, Bruce!” You seeth and the Joker should have been killed a long fucking time ago. You swear, if the Joker even lays a single finger on him, you’ll do it her damn self. Bruce is too much of a coward of what he could become if he did it. You don’t care. “The Robin suit is gone, the Joker is gonna fucking kill him and it’s all your fault!” You scream as you gather knives.

“Stay put.” Bruce is stern on the other line. “It will be dangerous and you aren’t prepared--”

“No! Fuck you!” You snip back, gathering as many knives as you can carry. “I’m gonna save him, kill the damn Joker since you’re too damn cowardly to do it and then I’m calling Dick.” You fume on the other end. “I’m gonna beg him if I have to to come and bring us back to San Franciso because fucking clearly, he’s worse off here!” You scream before hanging up the phone and heading towards the exit.

It’s not that he’s scared or even feeling uneasy. His head is clouded with a sense of nothing. Everything is just numb as he cuts the chain into the amusement park.

Jason should be scared and there’s a gnawing at the back of his head that is screaming and howling for him to be scared. To turn around. This is a bad idea. This is bad. There are red flashing lights begging him to turn around but that sense of adrenaline that would normally kick in and give him a little bit of common sense and self-preservation is being suppressed. It doesn’t exist. So, the normally loud and blinding lights that have been causing him so much pain over the last few months, aren’t loud enough. They’re useless.

As he walks further into the amusement park, he finds old and run-down games that grab his attention. This is the Joker’s hideout. It’s known. Of course, the maniac clown would like a closed amusement park. And Jason knows he should be hypervigilant. This is the Joker’s turf and he knows the Joker is here. But the drug keeps suppressing that, too.

He knows he should be more aware and more on guard but the drug gives him a false sense of confidence. He can do this. It’s the Joker. He’s just some crazy clown and if Bruce can take him down several times, Jason can do it. Bruce trained him, right? He knows better though. He should be scared and more aware. but then there’s a noise from behind him and he jumps anyway.

His heart skips before plummeting back into a resting rhythm as he spots a dead man with a creepy smile tugged on display. Jason’s eyes widen and there’s this small, tiny bit of fear that seems to bypass the anti-fear drug like a leaky faucet. And Jason starts to hear and see the red flashing lights in the back of his head in perfect color. But the point is that he isn’t supposed to feel fear at all.

Maybe his formula is a little off. How is he feeling any sense of fear? It’s barely there, barely even noticeable but it’s there enough where if he were in a normal state of mind, that alone would send him into a panic. He’d panic about being worried he’s going to panic. And that thought with the mixing of the drug, makes him miss the creeping steps of the Joker from behind him.

With a quick swing, a crowbar connects to Jason’s head and he’s sent right to the ground.

His head throbs and aches, a horrendous and shooting pain sending his head into a spin as his stomach turns. Blood drips down from his forehead, the warm liquid seeping down his cheek as he looks up to see the menacing and sadistic smile of the Joker looking down at him just as he pulls his arm back for another swing.

This swing connects with his jaw and Jason can hear the bone break. Jason’s mouth pools with blood, the taste of iron already becoming more nauseating. He groans out in agony as the Joker takes another hit to his head, his laugh echoing through the park.

His laugh rings through Jason’s ears with every blow and Jason thinks that laugh can penetrate any type of anti-fear drug. His hearing seems to get worse and worse but that laugh could pierce through solid steel. And he’s not supposed to be scared anymore.

But the Joker hits him again and Jason coughs up blood and fear starts to rush into his veins. Maybe it’s the overwhelming amount of adrenaline making the anti-fear drug wear off a lot sooner than it should. Maybe his formula needs to be tweaked. Maybe the anti-fear drug has a side effect, maybe it doesn’t work when he’s on the brink of death. Jason can’t think straight enough to figure it out. Instead, all he thinks is that he has never been more terrified than he is right now.

SMACK

WHACK

CRACK

Jason’s bones break as Joker takes a break from his face and works on his side and then his arms and legs. He swears this is the worst pain he has ever been in. The Joker hits him over and over and over again, the pain getting worse and worse as tears brim his eyes. He claws at the ground in desperation, a failing attempt to move away. But, the bones are being broken one by one and he can feel the shards with every movement. And he is so fucking sorry.

SMACK

He’s so sorry to Bruce because he should have listened. He should have been a better Robin. He should have listened. He’s so sorry he wasn’t better. He’s so sorry he wasn’t a better son. He tried his absolute best but he could have tried harder. Maybe he could have told Bruce what was going on. Maybe he could have told Bruce more about therapy. Maybe he could have explained anything that ever happened with him. Maybe he could have just tried to be a son. He’s so sorry and all he wants to do is tell Bruce he’s sorry. And thank you.

He wants to thank Bruce for trying. For taking him in. Letting him be his son and letting him be Robin. Bruce, in his weird way, cared about him and loved him. He tried even if he sucked at it sometimes. Jason wants to tell Bruce thank you.

SMACK

Jason screams as the crowbar finally shatters one of his ribs. His breathing is becoming ragged as the Joker takes another swing to Jason’s chest. The Robin suit offers a lot of protection but the Joker is relentless. He’s getting off on every scream and groan and gasp Jason lets out. It’s as if the sight of the blood seeping onto the ground and the backswing of splatter gets him off. He’s having the time of his life beating Jason to death. And Jason has never been more scared.

SMACK

He’s so scared and sorry. He’s so fucking sorry to you and he would give anything to tell you that right now. All he wants to do is call you. He wants to take it all back. He wants to go back home and crawl into your bed with you. He wants to hug you and kiss you and promise he’s doing okay and he’ll be okay. And you’ll be okay. He wants to promise you that it’ll all work out in the end, even if he doesn’t make it. He wants to tell you not to be mad or sad because he doesn’t deserve it. You don’t deserve to dwell on his inevitable death.

You both knew it was going to be him. You liked to fool yourself into thinking maybe it would be you but at the end of the day, you both knew it would always be him. Jason always knew it was gonna be him who died first. And he wants nothing more than to promise you it’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. He doesn’t want you to run yourself into the ground over him. But he knows you and he knows as the Joker takes another horrendous and agonizing hit to his skull, you’ll be miserable. This will be it for you. He’s not gonna make it and you're gonna lose your entire mind. You always said you would. And it’s all his fault.

SMACK

CRACK

He wants to shake you and tell you he’s so fucking sorry. He should have just told you what was going on. He should have told you. You would have helped him. You wouldn’t have been mad or yelled at him. Of all people, you would have understood why he went to Crane. You would have gotten it. You always understood him. And he should have told you.

He shouldn’t have lied to you. He’s so fucking sorry. And he’s so sorry for not loving you better, you deserve someone who’s not gonna do this. You deserve someone who’s not gonna get killed and didn’t even stand a damn chance. And he is so sorry he’s going to leave you alone.

He doesn’t think he’s gonna make it.

The Joker's laugh starts to sound further away as he takes another blow to the right side of his face, the crowbar connecting hard and steady against his ear. Then he can’t hear anything from that ear at all as blood starts to drip out. It’s the worst headache of Jason’s life. He can hear his skull cracking under the blows. He feels the blood seeping through his suit and onto the ground. There’s so much blood. He’s lightheaded and dizzy. It’s so hard to breathe.

SMACK

He’s not gonna make it.

And he finds himself, hoping against all odds, that someone will find him soon anyway. Maybe help will come just in time. Bruce is supposed to be the world’s greatest detective. Jason is his son. He’d figure it out. Maybe he already did and he’s actually close. Maybe he lied to Jason and he’s actually in Gotham and on his way. And maybe, you figured it out.

You're smart. You can fight off the Joker enough to get you both to safety. You were trained by Jason, Dick, Bruce. Jason believes you could do it. Maybe you're on your way. You're smart. You know Jason better than anyone. You’ll figure it out. You always figure it out. Maybe help is coming.

SMACK

Everything goes black for just a few seconds and then it’s blurry and shifted. He can’t see out of his right eye. Jason doesn’t know what’s going on as the Joker takes another smack. His laugh is just a reverberation now. The only sound he can even hear is the cracking of bones. Nothing else. And he doesn’t think he can breathe real well. He can’t move his jaw. He can’t even find the strength to try to move anymore. It all hurts and there’s so much blood.

Jason silently begs for the help he doesn’t realize will be too late just as the Joker takes a larger and harder blow to the front of his face.

He doesn’t think he’s gonna be able to hold on.

You drive to the abandoned carnival, coming up on one of the gates. Jason’s bike and helmet are right outside and the chain to the gate has been cut. You know. You know this isn’t good. It’s completely silent and you are terrified.

Silence can’t be good and a part of you hopes that maybe the Joker wants to play with Bruce. Maybe the Joker wants to kill Jason in front of him, to taunt him, that’ll give you some time to have a plan and get you both out of there, maybe. Or Bruce could make it in time to save you both.

But you creep around the grounds, cautiously but quickly. You're paying close attention to your head, making sure you don’t miss it if the throbbing you're certain will start. But, it doesn’t. Instead, you reach an open tunnel with carnival games and there’s someone lying on the ground.

It’s dark and despite you knowing damn well if it were the Joker on the ground, Jason would be over him bragging and cheering for himself, you hope it’s the Joker anyway. You hope against everything that the person laying on the ground is the Joker.

The closer you get though, the more you get the picture of the yellow and black cape.

Jason.

“No…” Your lip quivers as you pause. You're terrified to get any closer. It can’t be Jason. It can’t be. It can’t be. It can’t be. He’s strong and smart. He knows better. “No, no, no, no…” Your voice cracks as you start to walk closer and you can see him now.

There’s blood everywhere. He’s laying in a puddle of red and there’s blood splatter on the ground and the games. A bloody crowbar is tossed to the side and Jason is completely still. Your heart is in your throat as you close the distance, dropping to your knees.

“Jay…” Your voice is a whimpered whisper as you put your hand on his shoulder, pulling him to face you.

His body is completely limp and as he turns, you get the gruesome sight of what the Joker has done.

Jason’s face is mangled and unidentifiable. You can see his teeth through his jaw while there’s blood and bruising around the other side of his face. His face is swollen and paler than usual. There’s blood smeared across his face and on his lips. Some of his hair is wet with blood and sticking to his forehead. And his eyes are closed, not even trying to open.

Your heart shatters in that instant. The weight of the world has been on your shoulders for years and with the sight of his body, the world finally falls. It tumbles around you, breaking into unfixable pieces. The foundation keeping you steady is lifeless and cold and bloody.

Your lip quivers as tears start to trickle down your cheeks. Everything around you feels heavy and cold. The lump in your throat is so big and hard, you swear it’ll suffocate you finally and you’ll finally be out of this misery. The reaper creeps back from the shadow of your head, a smile similar to Joker’s shining back at you and he’s finally won. He won in a way you never thought he would.

Killing the last good parts of you, by killing him.

“Jason…” You whimper, one of your hands hesitantly going to his neck to check for a pulse. Nothing. There’s no pulse, just cold skin under the blood. “No…” You whine, tears now blurring your vision. You lean down, trying to hear him breathe and there’s nothing. He’s completely still. No breathing. Nothing. Just lifeless. “Jay, please, you can’t die.” You let out a sob, pulling Jason’s body into your lap. “I love you. You can’t die. I need you.” Your words are slurred as your nose runs and the cries grow louder.

You sob, rocking back and forth. You knew it would happen. You knew. And you should have known Jason was up to something when he didn’t go with you today. You should have known. He can’t be dead.

You swallow the lump in your throat, moving to rest Jason’s head flat on the ground while you pull out your phone, hands covered in blood. You call Bruce, putting the phone on speaker and then you start CPR. You swear it’ll be useless but you have to try anyway.

You swore every single day that you would never give up on him. And CPR isn’t going to help, but fuck it, you're not going to give up. So, you try anyway. You have to fucking try.

“Did you find him?” Bruce asks as soon as he answers.

Those words get you to let out another cry, your arms shaking as you push down on Jason’s chest. “Bruce!” You scream as your arms tremble.

Everything stops for Bruce. Pain shoots through his heart like a barbed wire arrow. He knows. He knows that cry because he’s let it out himself all those years ago. He’s heard other people. Babs. Dick. He knows and yet, it can’t be true. Not his son.

“What happened?” Bruce shakes his head, using all of his willpower not to let his voice shake.

“What do I do?” You cry, your cries are loud but there’s a weakness in your voice. “He’s not breathing and the Joker beat him with a fucking crowbar! Bruce, what do I do?” You beg Bruce to help. Your voice is slurred and panicked, pleading with all of the energy in you. He’s fucking Batman, he has to help. “What do I do? He’s not breathing. There’s so much blood, Bruce, help, please. You have to save him. Help me save him, please. Bruce, I can’t lose him, I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t.” You keep pumping on Jason’s chest but you swear it’s not working and not just because the Robin suit is so sturdy you're barely getting a compression in. You beg him and beg him, as if your pleas are enough to bring Jason back.

“I’ll send someone, keep doing CPR.” Bruce instructs with a square jaw.

“Bruce, I don’t…..I don’t think it’s helping.” You wail and you can’t breathe. It’s so hard to breathe. “I don’t think…..Bruce….” You let out a cough as your elbows shake and you're losing rhythm of the chest compressions.

“Keep going, don’t stop until they get there. I’m landing soon.” Bruce instructs and he never should have gone. He should have seen it. How the hell did he miss this?

“There’s so much blood…Bruce.”

Barbara Gordon and a few trusted people close to Bruce show up first. They find you still trying to perform CPR. You're slower now, and you're not getting the impact you need to make a difference. Your arms are weak and you're nearly hyperventilating and choking on your own tears.

The paramedics try their best to get you off of him but you scream and yell and cry for them to get off of you. You shove them off of you and you try and try and try. Bruce is still on the phone, telling you to let them do their job but you can’t. You can’t do it. You can’t because then you give up. You can’t give up on him. Not him.

“Hey.” Barabra wheels over a few feet away from you and she gets a look at the damage as her stomach turns and she knows he’s gone. “You need to stop.” Her voice is calm as she tries to keep it together.

“No!” You scream and you feel too weak to deal with any of it. He was your everything. “I can’t.”

The paramedics look at Babraba waiting to be told what to do and they know, too. His face is completely destroyed. He’s unrecognizable. The only reason Barabra even knows it’s Jason is because of the Robin suit. There’s brain matter on the ground. There’s more blood on the ground than there is in his body.

“Bluejay.” Barbara calls again, her voice cracking and this gets you to look at her. Even in the dark, Babara can see the redness of your eyes and the tears shining on the top half of your cheek above your mask. “He’s gone.” Babraba’s eyes go misty and you shake your head.

“No…” You whine and you finally stop but your hands stay on his chest. “No, not…no.” You let out a sob and you can’t even see Barbara anymore, the tears have blurred everything together. “I can’t.” You fall back, one of the paramedics catching you so you don’t hit the pavement too hard. The other paramedic jumps in and to Jason, just to be completely positive.

You shove the paramedic off of you and walk the few feet weakly to Barbara. “I-I…what--” You suck in a harsh breath, your breathing so rapid you feel like you're going to pass out.

“Sit down.” Barbara tries to keep her composure and you collapse with a loud sob, your entire chest feeling like it’s been set on fire with gasoline.

It can’t be him. Why him? He was good. He was a good person and funny and smart and kind. Jason had a heart of gold. Why did it have to be him? It never should have been him. He always deserved so much better. He never deserved this. This isn’t fair. It’s not right and it’s so fucking painful you wish the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

“Babs!” You scream. “I-I-I don’t I don’t wanna do it anymore.” Your teeth grit together as your words are wet and slurred.

You can’t breathe. You can’t breathe. It’s hard to breathe and your chest feels like it’s all caving in under the pressure. Maybe putting your heart in a pressure cooker would be less painful than this. Everything fucking hurts.

Barbara rests a hand on your shoulder and she knew Jason was reckless but she didn’t think he’d ever actually get himself killed. He was smart. Smarter than this. You cover your face with your hands, not caring you're covered in Jason’s blood. You just want everything to stop. The pain and the world and time and everything. You want it all to be over.

“I’m so sorry.” Barbara offers and there is nothing she can say that’s going to make this better.

“I can’t.” You spit and push Barabra’s hand off you before getting to your feet.

You push through the pain, running away. Barbara yells after you but you do not care. You make yourself run through the pain and the weakness. If you can do anything, it’s run from it. You want to run as far as your legs will let you. To the bike where you can speed away from it all. Speed so fast the pain goes away. The agony will fade if you run. You can do it. You tell yourself you can as tears fall down your face. You toss the helmet on and hop on the bike, and leave. You've always been good at running. You can run from it.

You're in the bathroom back at the manor, scrubbing the blood off of your hands through tears. Everything is blurry and painful. It’s burning and agonizing and stabbing. It aches and throbs. Breathing is the hardest thing you've ever done. You try to get in a full breath but every time you do, a sob immediately follows and it’s like the wind is knocked out from your lungs all over again. Your head is spinning with a throbbing headache and your eyes are so puffy you can barely open them. But, there’s blood staining your hands, Jason’s blood, and you have to get it off. You have to get it off.

Get it off. Get it off. Get it off.

You grit your teeth so hard that your jaw starts to pulse and you hate it. You hate this so much. You hate it and you want him back. You need him. He is everything to you. He is your everything. He is your best friend and you love him more than you've ever loved anyone. And he’s supposed to take care of you and you're supposed to take care of him. And it’s not fair and it’s senseless and it was brutal and you scream at the top of your lungs before falling to the floor. You lean against the counter, pulling your legs to your chest as you put your hands on your face because you can’t do this anymore

You talked about what life you could have together. And you swear you saw it. For the first time, you were optimistic about a future. Because you had him. He gave you all of this hope for the future because Jason could survive anything. He was supposed to survive anything. He was good at it. Dodging whatever fucked up shit the world was going to throw at him. And now he’s not. He didn’t dodge fast enough. And you were supposed to have an apartment one day together. And make dinner together. And have a dog and a cat because Jason always really liked cats. He’d come home and you’d clean up the blood and he’d do the same for you when patrol got a little messy. You were supposed to have a life together.

You don’t know how you're supposed to get up again after this.

And then Molly walks in.

She’s been crying since Bruce called her and asked her to check on you. He’s worried about what you might do and seeing you on the floor absolutely hysterical, she knows why. Of course, she knew it would be bad. Her best friend just lost the person she loves. Of course, you're going to be a mess but….you're covered in blood and Bruce didn’t tell her what happened. And on top of that, you still have the suit on, minus the mask, which is another surprise Molly did not expect to get today.

Molly says your name with hesitance as she walks in, sitting on the floor in front of you.

You look up, moving your hands. “M-Molly.” You whine, your bottom lip trembling, the hood of your suit barely lets Molly get a glimpse of your face that’s covered in blood as well.

Molly nods. “Bruce called.” Her voice is just above a whisper.

“He….Molly…h-h-he…d-di-died..” You let out a sob as you shake your head and you just want it to be done. You're so fucking tired.

“I know.” Molly lets out a soft cry, sniffling softly.

“H-he’s dead.” Your entire body jerks with another cry as you hang your head. You're so fucking tired. Tired of all of it.

“I know.” Molly closes the distance between you, pulling you into a hug and allowing you to completely break against her. And then Molly starts crying because Jason was her best friend, too. “I’m so sorry.” Molly manages to get out.

“I can’t do it.” Your voice is weak against her.

“Can’t what?” Molly pulls away, her hands still on your shoulders as if trying to stabilize you.

Any of it. You can’t do any of it. You're covered in his blood and it all hurts. You're weak and tired and exhausted. It’s all agonizing and paralyzing and numb. It’s all too much. And you just cannot do any of it anymore.

“Blood and…” Your breathing is labored, your head swaying slightly. And you're so lightheaded and nauseous. “Do this.”

“One thing at a time.” Molly stands up and grabs a wash rag, wetting it with soap and water. Molly can break later. You need help. “Let me see.” You hand your hand to Molly and Molly starts cleaning.

Molly expects to find some sort of wound but she finds nothing. The more she scrubs, the more blood comes off and it’s just your skin under it. And she shakes her head because what the fuck happened to Jason that got you covered in his blood? A part of her almost doesn’t want to know. But, she has to ask anyway. Bruce was a little vague. So, after a few minutes, with your cries becoming quieter, Molly decides to ask.

“C-can I ask you what happened?” Molly is seeing that you're actually one of the suited vigilantes that roam Gotham so she’s guessing something with a bad guy went a little south.

And you don’t care anymore. None of it matters anymore. Jason is dead. It’s not his secret anymore. You're in your suit anyway and Bruce isn’t home. You're all alone anyway.

“Joker beat him to death with a crowbar.” You answer plainly Molly feels her stomach turn.

“What?” Molly’s heart stops in her chest.

You nod as you sniffle, watching Molly clean the remainder of Jason’s blood from your hands. “He was Robin.” Your voice is hoarse as you talk.

Molly pauses, blinking at you and she’s so confused. And this whole thing is growing more and more unsettling. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked.

“He…Jason was Robin?”

You nod again, sniffling. “Yeah.”

“You found him?” Molly asks. Why did you have to find him? Of all people, it just had to be you. Of course, it was you.

“Yeah.” More tears start to fall from your eyes and you can see him every time you blink. That’s going to be your last memory of him and it hurts so fucking bad you want to leave.

“I’m…I’m sorry. Is this all his?” Molly’s voice grows a little panicked. She can’t even imagine the sight you walked in on.

“There was a lot of blood. The head bleeds a lot.” You clear your throat before you sniffle again.

Molly is terrified you're going to start giving her gory details. Not on purpose but because you're too tired to care. The crying is slowing down and that always means you will talk. You stop caring and then you talk. Molly doesn’t want to know and you don’t need to relive the horror verbally.

“Okay, um…okay you stay here. I’m gonna get you some clothes.” Molly stands up quickly.

“C-can you…Jsaon’s room, there’s a…maroon hoodie. It was his favorite.” You look up at her as Molly heads to the doorway.

“Yeah, I’ll be back.” Molly nods quickly.

You let out another cry and you don’t think you’ll be able to survive this one. It’s too heavy. It’s too much. There’s only so much one person can take. And you swear as you shiver on the bathroom door with broken sobs tearing up your throat that Jason Todd was your breaking point. Jason Todd is dead and you swear you’ll never recover.

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A/n: So, this is what Jason looks like in his death scene and he looks scared. Which, is probably a plothole because Titans (or them trying to throw us off since it's episode 1 ?? idk) but I decided I was just gonna use that anyway for fun lol Also fun fact, I was originally not going to include his death scene since we saw it in the show but then I rewatched UTRH and was encouraged by my best friend to make it worse so I did. And I'm really glad I included it lol I'm sorry but I really like how it turned out lol

Tag list: @fairyofshampoo // @italiana-20 // @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai // @makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @mayfieldss // @ghostkingblake // @im-done-with-this-im-out // @velvetskies // @lilylovelyxo // @cryinghotmess // @yesimwriting // @vivian-555 // @stainedstardom // @baebeepeach // @legend-o-zelda // @harleycao // @somehow-lovable-trash // @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx // @deyja-the-duck // @jasontoddslover // @captainmarvels-blog // @totallynotkaibiased // @scarlovesyou // @whydoyoucare866 // @littlemeowmeow1000

#jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader #red hood fanfic #red hood fanfiction #red hood x reader #titans fanfic #titans fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #petrichor

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shelbyswift · 3 years

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everyday i wake up brazilian so... i really REALLY need your help!!!!!!!!! (please reblog if you can 🥺)

Hi there!

My name is Sylvia and I'm a Brazilian psychology student who has just gotten an unconditional offer to study at Royal Holloway University of London, starting September 2021. It has always been one of my biggest dreams to go to university abroad, but I never thought I would actually be given an opportunity like this someday, considering my coming from a very humble background. I am the first in my family to ever be enrolled in higher education, and I owe that to my father's determination and resilience. He grew up in conditions of extreme poverty in northeastern Brazil, taught himself the entirety of our national tax system by spending hours and hours on end reading in libraries, and worked his way up to a tax & accounting management position at Thomson Reuters (which he has now held for over 15 years), all the while raising 6 children. Although my family has been extremely blessed to now live in a much more comfortable financial situation than the one I was born in, the political and economic air has shifted, and the reality of our country is no longer a prosperous, hopeful one — especially for anyone looking to work in science. Amidst constant attacks from the current government against universities, human rights, the scientific community, the truth and democracy, I can't help but fear the prospect of my academic future, or of my future in general, as well as my family's. My father is now 68 years old and the only provider to my household, I'm afraid he won't be able to play that part for much longer. So, at 21, it is my responsibility to step in and make sure my little sister gets the education he enabled me to get, supporting them, my mother and myself financially. It is highly unlikely that I'll manage to do that successfully as a scientist in Brazil.

I don't mean to dwell but, If I'm gonna ask you for help, I feel like I owe you a full explanation as to why I need it. I am a late-diagnosed autistic woman, which might sound weird if you have a preconceived misconception of autism engraved in your mind, but the under-recognition of autism spectrum conditions in girls and women is actually a gravely common and dangerous issue that prevents us from having access to support at an early age, thus arising serious consequences for our health and wellbeing. I am not sharing this information in order to "play the victim" or get you to donate from a place of pity, but to explain why I long to work in science so much, and need to be somewhere that will grant me better opportunities. My biggest dream and professional goal is to help girls like me have a happier, healthier, more fruitful experience of the world than the one I was met with for so long, preventing unnecessary suffering through accessible neuropsychological work, while raising awareness to the dangers of misdiagnosis fueled by bigotry in scientific research. The Brazilian government's been pushing deep cuts of billions of reais (brazilian currency) in science funding over the last few years, causing students to lose their scholarships, be forced to use obsolete equipment or stop the research they have been conducting altogether. This scenario makes it extremely hard, if not impossible, to turn dreams such as mine into reality.

That being said, the anual tuition fee for Psychology BSc overseas students at Royal Holloway is of £21,400 — approximately R$161.427,00 in brazilian currency (reais), which is more than my family's yearly income. At the end of the 3 year course, that amount will have added up to £64,200 — almost half a million reais. If I get a scholarship (the best one available for overseas students is the Reed Inovation one, which awards the winner £5,000 a year), I would still be expected to pay R$371.131,68 (£49,200). Unfortunately, there is no way me and my family will be able to afford all this, and that is why I have started this fundraiser. I don't expect to reach the full goal in donations until September, but I would never forgive myself if I didn't try, as even half of the amount would already make a huge difference and perhaps allow me to actually go.

Thank you SO much if you took the time to read this up to here, I will be forever grateful for any help I can get, even if you just share this!

Here’s my Paypal link.

Hope you have a nice day 💚✨

Proof:

#taylor please come back and help me I BEG YOU #i’m so sorry for tagging you guys in a text post but i’m desperate and i need people to see this and idk what else to do #userchaitali #userfilm #userjochi #userjessie #userpurpleswift #userelena #usertswift #userkbell #userjudith #userojo #usertara #userclem #userpiecesintoplaces #usernaomi #usersar

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iwadori · 3 years

Text

Why you and the haikyu boys broke up (Atsumu,Oikawa,Kageyama,Kenma,Akaashi,Sugawara)

Part two: Osamu, Iwaizumi, Daichi, Ushijima

Genre:angst

masterlist

Atsumu: “god yer so clingy and annoying”

You and Atsumu have been dating for years and every year was worse then the last. Atsumu became more distant and standoffish as your relationship progressed.

“‘Tsumu, where were you said that you’d be back by-“

“Gosh Y/N, just leave me alone, I don’t need you doting all over me like your my mum or something” he said harshly making you flinch

“Well I wouldn’t keep acting like your mum if you weren’t being such a child, you dick”

“God Y/N, yer so cling and annoying”

That was the last thing he said to you, well the last thing you heard, since after that you were gone. You definitely didn’t care for Atsumu anymore and you definitely didn’t care about his mutiple messages and calls asking begging you to talk to him.

You were done and you silently asked yourself the question “who’s the clingy and annoying one now ‘tsumu”

Oikawa: “If only you supported me like she did then..”

You and Oikawa, the classic ‘highschool sweethearts,’ with him being the athletic trailblazer with you at his side through it all, always known as “Oikawa’s girlfriend”

Being known as that, at first you didn’t mind, since being attached to the Oikawa name in any aspect was something to brag about (especially when you’re a teenage girl.)

But as you got older you didn’t want to be just somebody’s “girlfriend,” you wanted to be Y/N The doctor or Y/N the lawyer, journalist or whatever.

And Oikawa wasn’t particularly fond of the idea.

As the time went on, with you now studying and preparing for your new found dream job (which you were over the moon about.) Oikawa became unbearable, late nights out, always hiding his phone when you were about, he had this odd scent about him one that was different to usual.

He was cheating on you. You knew it, but since there was no physical proof and because you loved him so much accusing him of such a thing could ruin everything.

You didn’t need too though. Since one night, when Oikawa was supposedly meant to be at an away game. He was away, but in someone else’s pants... in your bedroom.

After being caught he pleaded for you to hear him out and when you wouldn’t he said “if only you supported me like she did then I wouldn’t be cheating on you”

That was definitely the final straw, you became the best doctor that Japan had ever seen, and you didn’t know what happen to Oikawa and that girl.

You may of heard through the grapevine that she definitely cheated on him a month into their relationship, but what do you care anyways.

Kenma: “gosh y/n I’m not your therapist”

Kenma and you were childhood friends before you started dating. You were two peas in a pods.

You worked perfectly as you being the talkative one always talked and him being quiet just always listened.

That’s how you worked and it was fine, right?

Well of course it wasn’t, well at least till when you were a few years into your relationship it wasn’t. Kenma was obviously a popular gamer and kind of a businessman, he wasn’t as free as he used to be and neither were you and you both knew that.

So when you did have time to hang out you most certainly made the most of it, doing what you normally did: you talk, he ‘listens.’

Even though Kenma wasn’t listening anymore, who knows when he stopped listening but he probably hasn’t heard nor cared for a thing you’ve said since you were 5.

“Gosh Y/N I’m not your therapist” he said after you were telling him about a terrible day you had “ I don’t even know why we’re still together, or together at all... “

“Fine, if that’s how you feel I’m gone”

“Wait Y/N I didn’t mea-“

You slam the door blocking out the rest of speech which you didn’t need to hear since obviously ‘you aren’t his therapist.’

Akaashi: you’re just too much of an idiot too understand.

When you and Akaashi met, it was in one of your classes, and you first noticed him when he was answering in a question in class.

Hot and smart was what you thought when you first laid eyes on him

What you didn’t know by the time you got together was that ‘hot and smart’ translates to the biggest patronising mansplainer ever.

Akaashi has a way of belittling you and dumbing you down, you didn’t know why he was doing it. Heck, you didn’t know he was actually doing it until he actually said “you’re just too much of an idiot to understand.”

The other times it was subtle, but obvious enough to leave you sad and uncomfortable afterwards questioning every aspect of yourself.

One night, you don’t tell him what your doing, you pack up your crap leave the rest of the months rent on the kitchen counter along with a note saying ‘I’m breaking up with you,’

You knew that sooner or later that day you’d get a text from him and you did which read:

Akaashi: what do you mean I’m breaking up with. Why ?

Y/N: oh I guess you’re too much of an idiot to understand.

Kageyama: you don’t work hard enough Y/N

You were dating the best setter in Japan. It always felt surreal when you said that to yourself, or when someone said that to you.

Since ‘how could you’ get ‘someone like that.’

That was the question that many people asked, since of course ‘Tobio Kageyama was only worth the best of the best,’ and to them you most certainly wasn’t that.

You got comments like that all the time online, but you didn’t care but one time you were scrolling through Twitter and so a post about you and the comments were all talking about your body.

This crushed your heart, as the comments they were making were vile so this definitely hit a tough spot.

When Kageyama came home and saw your distressed state he rushed to your side to see if he could help. However once you showed him what you were crying over, his tone of voice changed as he said,

“They aren’t wrong Y/N, ever since we got together you’ve definitely not really been looking after yourself lately”

“What is that supposed to mean” you retort

“ I mean, you don’t work hard Y/N, you don’t work at all... as of lately you’ve just been bitching and complaining and mooching off of my success whilst you let yourself go.”

Ouch.

“If that’s how you see me, then so be it” you say gracefully standing up and exciting the building. You were done with Kageyama and you both knew that, there was no going back after what he said, especially since you could tell he was thinking that for a while now.

Sugawara: your not the girl I fell in love with

Sugawara and you were described as the “perfect couple” by people that didn’t know you. Which you always faked a smile a compliment, knowing certainly well you weren’t.

You’ve loved sugawara ever since you met him in your first year. But you knew, you always knew he didn’t love you back.

Kiyoko Shimuzu, her name was. A pretty name for a pretty girl. All the boys were in love with her (some more vocal about it then others) but sugawara even though he wasn’t shouting his love from the rooftops, you caught the looks of adoration he gave her when she was simply walking by.

You dated him anyways, maybe he could sense your desperation or maybe he needed a distraction. You didn’t know why he decided to ask you out and you didn’t care, he was yours and you finally ‘won.’

Well you were winning up till you got a certain invite in the Mail:

You are invited to the wedding of Tanka Ryunnsoke and Kiyoko Shimuzu.

Even though sugawara looked happy at the idea of his two dearest friends marrying, you could tell he was heartbroken. And he knew that you knew.

That is why, on the day before the wedding as you were packing your bags to go, it turns out he was packing his bags too. But for a completely different reason.

“I’m leaving” was all he said at first heading for the door.

“Where? Why?” You aksed

“You know why Y/N, you’ve always known why And itll do more harm then good if we keep this charade up any longer”

“But I love you” you cried latching on to him

“And I love you, but you were not the girl I fell in love with and I don’t think that love will ever stop”

You knew he was right and you let him go, crying over your one true love.

An: I kinda heavily like this one, (maybe because it’s hard to write on my phone and this style is definitely not what I’m used too so I’m appreciating my efforts.) what do you guys think ??

ALSO MY PHONE WONT LET ME DO READ ORE AND ONCE MY LAPTOP WORKS TOMMOROW I WILL DO IT SO SORRY!!

Taglist[bold can’t be tagged]: @sakuxxi @iimoonii @hamdehlesmis @Shoyosupremacy @meadowsinjapan @iambashfulperson

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ncteez · 3 years

Text

Definition of hate: Chapter Four

You’re entering the world of Johnny quicker than you expected but the pull of his energy is too strong to resist. After a heated make out session at your apartment, he sleeps over and brings you far more comfort than you ever expected him to. Not even a day later, Taeyong decides to spill the beans about Johnny’s ex, and Mark goes through a crisis that makes it a bit hard to express this new found desire for the man you hated less than a month ago.

reminder that this is a series. the description can be found linked below under the masterlist! please reblog the masterlist post, not the individual chapters!

WORDCOUNT → 15.4k

CHAPTER TAGS → grinding, kissing, mentions of reader having longer hair (sorry lol, I don’t even have long hair), discussions of feelings and boundaries, the start of falling in love, food mentions, bisexuality (taeyong), reader discusses her home-life, drug mentions, kind of sexting, masturbation, handjob, clit stimulation over panties

fic m.list

By the time you and Mark get to your apartment, you’re still trying to process why Johnny seemed to want you to leave so badly. You’re pulled out of your thoughts to Haechan, uninvited, running across the yard and following behind you inside. You don’t even get a moment to breathe before you’re answering questions.

“What did you guys talk about?”

“Where did you go?”

“Johnny kissed you! It’s all good right?!”

“Why aren’t you staying over?!”

You explain to them that you both admitted your feelings and that in the end it was you who kissed him. You explained that you had a moment with Johnny in the bathroom, then spent the rest of the party together by his laptop, which they should have already known.

“He said he liked me still, and that I was cute.” You breathe out.

“That’s good though?”

“Then he told me to go home, and that he needed to clean up.”

Both Haechan and Mark look at each other.

“I was going to ask If he wanted to come over here, not to like—y’know. I just wanted to spend more time with him, but before I could even ask, he said we needed to be sober for it.’

“Ahh.” Mark sighs out. “He made you feel like he already needs space, huh?”

“No, I mean. He’s allowed to have space. It just made me feel confused or like I’m already clinging too hard?”

“You’re not.” Haechan smiles at you. “Maybe he just didn’t want you to think he’d take advantage of you while you were drunk?”

“But I’m sober! I barely drank since we left the bathroom!” You bellow out in a groan.

“Just text him and ask him to come over again. I bet he won’t say no a second time. Tell him you’re sober.” Haechan offers again, looking to Mark for some backup.

“Isn’t that too desperate?” You question, still worried about how Johnny perceives you.

“You guys made out in our tiny disgusting bathroom.” Mark finally adds.

You try to say something, but he’s right. Maybe you’re both desperate. But clearly, you’re the only who yearns for his company more.

“Here, I’ll text him.” Mark says as he quickly grabs your phone and opens your messages. “Don’t worry, I won’t read anything you’ve already sent.”

You go to leap towards him to grab it back, but for some reason you don’t. Even Haechan is a little shocked.

“Oh look.” Haechan says as he leans in to see what Mark is typing. “Johnny is already typing!”

You cover your face as you see Mark blush slightly. It’s not that Johnny has sent anything yet, because the second Mark started typing something, Johnny stopped. It just seems like he’s intruding too much. But you’re letting him, so he assumes it’s a cry for help.

“There. Done.” Mark says gently, placing your phone in front of you so you can read the message.

You: hey, I’m not trying to seem clingy but I just wanted you to know that I’m actually sober and I wanted to spend more time with you. It’s ok if you’re tired though. I had fun, sleep well. Goodnight.

You groan again, because why does he type like you all of a sudden?

“Is that good? Did I do good?” Mark asks for reassurance before your phone dings, and then both Mark and Haechan’s phones ding.

beefy neighbor: I don’t think you’re clingy, I just didn’t want to make you feel smothered since you said you were exhausted

“Bro, he sent a screenshot.” Haechan laughs as he looks at their messages.

“Tell him to come over.” Mark laughs with him as you sit there and blush.

They’re planning to get Johnny over here for you, and suddenly you feel unprepared to see him again. So you blush, and then your phone dings again.

beefy neighbor: should I really go over?

You slap yourself in the forehead for Johnny out of embarrassment before sending a quick “yes.”

“I think he sent this to me instead of you guys—” You say in a pained laugh, still blushing.

“And you already responded!?” Haechan is practically rolling for the both of you as he laughs at how dumb Johnny can be.

“I bet he’s cursing himself right now,” Mark laughs with Haechan and then they pause. “Wait, we should probably go then—’

You were going to protest so it wasn’t as awkward, but then Johnny would know it was all Mark and Haechan’s doing to get him over here if they stay. He could probably read it plainly across their faces.

“He should know we are already over here though,” Haechan states in a matter of fact tone, but Mark counters him. “Yeah, but I doubt he’d think we would stay considering she did say she was exhausted.”

After little arguing you let them leave. Swiftly and in the sneakiest way possible, both of them hid behind the trash bin as Johnny made his way over to your apartment. This will be his first time inside, this is the first everything, you think.

He ignores the racoons around the trash bin behind him that definitely sounds like two of his best friends when you open the door and let him in. Somehow the entire atmosphere has changed in the short time you’d been apart from him. You stand away from the window so that he doesn’t see Haechan and Mark stumble like idiots back to the frat house and catch on.

“Sorry I didn’t walk you home.” Johnny finally says, trying not to look around too much so that you don’t think he’s judging.

“It’s okay, Mark got me here well enough.”

“I’ll thank him later I guess—” Johnny pauses as looks at your little couch. “Can I—like?? Can I sit?”

“Oh!” You say, trying your best not to be awkward as you immediately back yourself up and sit down first. “Come, you can sit!”

It’s silent again for a moment before he breathes out.

“Your apartment is cute.”

“It’s home, I guess.” You say back quickly. You begin to fidget a bit with one of the couch cushions before Johnny leans back and slouches again, like how he was when the party ended.

“Why is this so hard?” He questions in a slight whine, you can tell his frustration and you can kind of feel it too. “You wanted me to come over right?” He looks over at you and you finally look back at him.

“Yeah, I did.” You finally say. “Sorry if i’m being awkward...”

“No, no. It’s okay.” He says, his cheeks flushing under the pressure. “I must look dumb right? We both know I sent that text to you by mistake,”

“You always look dumb–” You say it with a smile as you finally lean back and slouch against the couch next to him. “I want to spend more time with you. I think it’ll be less weird if we get used to it.”

Johnny nods and keeps his eyes fixated on you.

“What would make it less awkward for you?” He asks quietly, grabbing your hand in his for the first time and holding it with ease.

“You seem to get over the awkwardness really quickly,” You comment as you look over at him, admiring how big and warm his hands are.

“No, I still feel awkward.”

“Then what about you? What would make it better for you?” You question as a counter.

“Talking about it more. About how we feel, about why we did the things we did, and why I reacted the way I did.” Johnny says it like he’s releasing pent up frustrations but, it’s warm and inviting in the way his voice croaks a bit at his tiredness. You realize he probably hadn’t been sleeping much considering the ordeal with Mark. You think about his ex, and if she’s wondering why he isn’t there right now.

“Okay. I’ll tell you something, you tell me something.” You say it with confidence, because the hard part is over.

“I didn’t like you because you made me feel vulnerable and uncomfortable. I felt like you wanted to make fun of me every chance you got, and I liked getting a reaction out of you because it meant you cared enough about how I felt to argue back with me.”

Johnny laughs at your bluntness but responds without argument.

“I liked you but was mad that you rejected my very existence when most people force friendship on me. I was mad that you didn’t ask me for money, I was mad that you thought I would sleep around, I was mad that you judged me just because I tried to protect you from neighbors hearing you get off.”

You blush as you think back to that dreadful day with the vibrator.

“I hated that I couldn’t have my own space. I hated that I had to listen to your parties when I was trying to get my life together. I hated that I couldn’t feel good without you guys interrupting me, I hated that you were handsome and could have anyone you wanted, but you continued to pester me because I thought you just wanted to make fun of me.”

Johnny shoots back again.

“I was bothered that you spent time with my friends and didn’t even try to get to know me. It pissed me off when we finally started texting, then you’d come over to my house and have a drunken sleepover with two of my best friends without at least responding to my texts. I hated that I felt jealous over someone who didn’t even want to be with me, or even look in my direction.”

You pause and look at him, both of you continuing to spill and spill. The room feels less awkward now.

“I’m mad that we couldn’t communicate.” You say, gripping his hand tightly. “I hate that you went to your ex because of me. “

Johnny sighs and looks down at your hand in his.

“I can block her again if you want.”

You shake your head at him.

“It’s not really my place to tell you what you should do. It’s your choice, but I do like you. And I hope that you don’t see her anymore for your own sake based on what I’ve heard.”

“Ah, they’ve told you a lot, huh?” Johnny mumbles as he pulls out his phone. “I’ll block her anyway, I’ve got you now, right?”

The way he needs constant reassurance is so foreign to you, you really don’t know how to answer.

“I mean, we like each other, right? I’d hope you didn’t have feelings for someone else at least.”

“I don’t, so there. Done.” Johnny says it as if he’s proud of himself, and then he lets his body lean in towards you. He lies against your shoulder and looks up at you.

“I hated that our first kiss was to fend off some dude in my own home.” He mumbles.

“I hated that our second kiss was in your disgusting downstairs bathroom as if you didn’t have a nicer or more clean one upstairs.” You joke.

He laughs in mock pain as he leans away from you and sits up. Johnny is floored at how your makeup has slightly faded compared to before, and the way your eyes blink slowly at him, probably from the fact that you’ve gotten wasted and sobered up today. He couldn’t bare to look at himself right now, having not showered at all and only dousing himself in various colognes he finds in his bathroom at home.

“I must stink, huh?” He laughs at himself, suddenly feeling disgusting compared to you.

“I think you smell like you.” You say back with such ease it almost shocks him.

“I always smell this bad?”

“Yeah.” You laugh, kicking him gently with your foot. “You stink of expensive cologne and sweat.”

“It wasn’t even that expensive!” He defends himself as he tries to secretly take a whiff of himself.

“By whose standards? Yours? Hah—don’t make me laugh!”

“Please, you’re the one who still found a way to smell me even though you claimed you didn’t like me—weirdo.” He puts finger in the air, you can tell he’s about to mock you “Plus, you’re cute when you laugh.”

“Be funnier.”

Silence.

And then you both laugh at the sheer exhaustion you feel. Laugh at the way all of this was so unnecessary, laugh at the way you practically raced each other to heartbreak before holding hands at the finish line and walking away together.

You don’t know what you are with him, but you’re comfortable.

“Hey–Y/n?” Johnny finally says and hearing your name this time felt soft and sincere. You look back at him and feel like you fit. Like this could go somewhere.

“You’re not going to push me away anymore again?” He says it as he leans back into you, and you can see his chest rising and falling with each breath.

“I—don’t think I want to push you away. I don’t think I ever wanted to.”

“That’s good.” He sighs again, and simply leans in to kiss you quickly. So fast that before you even close your eyes, he’s pulling back again. “And I’m allowed to kiss you now?”

You nod, internally smiling at the fact that he already did.

He kisses you again, quickly. Then he leans back to his claimed spot on the couch so that you’re the one that needs to move closer. When you do, ready to kiss him again you stop and look at his lips. The way his natural pout appears even when he seems happy and content is something new you’re noticing. You’d never really looked at his face this closely, even in the bathroom, you weren’t focused on his lips in the moment because it was happening so fast.

He lets you examine his face, all of his imperfections and biggest insecurities. He’s the one who feels vulnerable, but there’s no other place he would rather be at this moment. Just staring back at you and seeing your eyes dart from his lips, back to his eyes, to his nose and to his neck. Then he feels you run your fingers through his hair right at the nape of his neck. A small sigh rolls out of his throat and you tilt your head at him. Making note that he must like his hair played with. So, you keep doing that before finally kissing him again. Thinking about the way his cupids bow feels soft against your own lips, and the way, just like before, his arm shoots around your waist.

He seems to have a way of doing things like this, and you cant help but feel like it’s deliberate and slow because he wants you to feel cared for. You never put so much thought into a kiss before, even if the two of you are sitting in this weird side-by-side position and it’s making your neck hurt. You wonder if he feels like the position is off too, but you’re too afraid to like—move to deepen the kiss past where it is now. You’re thinking too much, trying to accommodate him too much, trying to keep yourself in line. This isn’t what kissing is supposed to be, and though it’s loving, it still feels awkward.

You kind of hint at wanting a more comfortable position to accommodate what you’re both trying to do right now and almost instantly Johnny takes the hint. Without hesitation he places a hand at the back of your head and holds your lips against his as he pulls you onto him. Though much more comfortable, you laugh into the kiss because you just wanted a little more comfort but he went ahead and greenlighted a position that has your cheeks heating up as you try to adjust yourself in a way that doesn’t—yknow—get too saucy.

You try your best not to move much, despite Johnny’s warm hands around your waist. He’s not pushing you, nor is he pulling. Instead, he’s just kissing you. Deepening it by the minute, you figured it would feel weird in such a silent space with the lights on but, it feels more like what a kiss should be. Uncaring of the surrounding, and instead focused on his lips against yours.

You continue to run your fingers through his hair because each time you do, you can feel him fight over which sensation to lean into. The kiss or your fingertips, you take this opportunity to go ahead and use your other hand and run his hair out of his face before pressing it firmly against the nape of his neck. He sighs out and you can feel him holding back but, honestly, it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. Filling you with confidence that you have this big, dorky, arrogant man wanting you to kiss him this badly.

You pull back in a breath and look at the way his eyes gently open to meet yours. You never would have placed yourself in this situation if you think back. You would have gagged at the thought of even looking at him, better yet touching him, being on him.

Before he can even say anything, you lean in and kiss just once on his jaw before pulling back. It’s probably a funny scene to look at from the outside, you’re straddling this man, kissing him but refusing to so much as grind a little bit because you don’t know what the boundary is. You don’t know how far is too far, or how early is too early. You kiss against his jaw again, this time a little lower. You know he must have a sensitive neck in the way he swallows with anticipation. You wonder if he’s holding back too, because he has barely moved since he pulled you on top of him.

“Tell me if you want me to stop?” You finally say in a somewhat breathless way and he simply nods back to you.

“Tell if you want me to start?”

God, you want to slap him in his dumb face for sliding in a joke like that, but his face is serious and he’s asking if he’s allowed to move even a little bit.

“That sounded stupid—” He corrects himself. “I mean like, um,” He trails off, eyes glancing away from you.

Johnny, somehow, makes himself seem so small though he could very easily be the one in charge, and you’d kind of like that if you’re being honest. You wonder if he’s just scared to do too much.

“Do what feels natural, lets stop thinking so much,” You finally say back and again fall back into the kiss. Hoping that you can follow your own advice instead of waiting for him to give you a green light.

Only a few moments go by before he’s moving his hands around and finding the small lift of your shirt in the back. He simply wants to feel your skin, a place where he’s never touched before and you don’t shy away. Instead, you take the initiative to arch your back a little, only slightly grinding against him when you do it. You feel his excitement when he kisses you then, the way his warm hands lay against your skin and when he tilts his chin up a bit more towards you so that he can lick into your mouth in a rhythmic way that sends a shiver down your skin. He can feel the goosebumps against you when it happens and doesn’t hesitate this time to slightly rock you against him.

The feeling of him under you has you a bit breathless as you let him rock your body against his own to his liking. You like it too but, you continue to focus on kissing him, running your hands through his hair, and feeling the warmth of his tongue. It feels heated and finally, it feels natural.

Then he groans. Just a little bit, and you can feel him against your ass when he presses you against him. You get the feeling in your gut that makes you want to help him, maybe grind a little bit on your own so his hands can explore.

When you press against him on your own, a little more pressure than he was getting before, his hands fall away from your waist and instantly shoot to your face. You assumed he would grope or grab but instead he is holding your cheeks and kissing you harder than before by skewing the angle of your lips. The both of you are breathless before he pulls back from the kiss and just watches the way your body moves slightly on top of him.

Johnny knows you’re not grinding to full potential and it’s okay. It feels okay, it feels good for both of you given the outfits you’re wearing are not offering much comfort.

You grind against him again and see the way he’s looking at you by the time his eyes meet yours again. You don’t want to be arrogant, you don’t want to seem like you deserve him, and you definitely don’t want to get your hopes up but—there is something different in his eyes when he looks at you.

Making out is one thing, but heavy petting feels overwhelming and new though you both have had your fair share of it before. You feel out of balance, the room is too bright, it’s too quiet, and your shorts are starting to rub a rash on your inner thighs—but it’s with Johnny.

“Y/n…” He sighs out, and his lips look red and slack as he continues to look up at you.

You slow your hips, feeling the burn on your thighs as you answer him, “Yeah?”

“I really like what you’re doing—” He pauses to swallow, probably cursing himself for what he’s about to say. “But I can see your shorts rubbing you raw.”

“I’m okay, It’s okay.” You stop and lean in to kiss him again. It’s quick, and short.

“I um—” He laughs at himself. “I’m also being rubbed raw.”

You quickly pull yourself off of him and throw out an apology in embarrassment. It feels like the entire moment is ruined. You feel seen, allowing your legs to go raw because maybe, yeah, you started to feel a little desperate for him while on top of him.

“No, no!” He is quick to reassure. “It felt good! I just—I was getting too excited but, jeans rub yknow?”

“Yeah, I get it! I’m sorry!”

Johnny feels kind of bad now, but in all honesty he probably would’ve came in his pants if he didn’t ask you to stop. Which would have been more embarrassing, he thinks. Despite the pain of his jeans, he really did enjoy it. Looking at your legs though, swelling under the hem of your shorts…that. That was getting to him in a way that he likely wouldn’t have stopped himself from taking them off of you, kissing the swell. He doesn’t want to go too far, too fast for you.

“Do you want me to go home?” He questions, feeling bad.

“No, I like that you’re here.” You say back in a small voice, feeling the heat from your lower region radiate in an uncomfortable way. Maybe it’s best you stopped, because your legs really are starting to burn more and more. You can’t imagine how Johnny feels considering the exact region that was being rubbed against.

“Do you want me to stay over?” He asks again, hoping.

You glance up at your clock and it’s already four in the morning.

“Would you?” You ask, knowing that he has no expectations or plans in mind for it. Both of you are spinning in awkwardness and comfort, you think the company is nice and you highly doubt he wants to go home considering how happy you are to ask him to stay.

“I will but—um,” He seems unsure, “I can’t sleep in these pants.”

You laugh about it, but you don’t look down to see what he’s working with because you’ve already felt it against you. You’re already a blushing mess, the last thing you need is to pass out.

“I can sleep on the couch! It’s okay!”

“If you’d feel more comfortable with that, you can. But my bed is big enough, I don’t feel uncomfortable around you.”

“Oh—” Johnny says in surprise. “Even without pants?”

Finding boundaries is harder than he wants it to be right now.

“Johnny.” You say sternly, placing your hand on his thigh. “We’ve made out three times in one night. Haechan has flashed me by accident, Mark has seen me pee.” You try to reassure him but it ends up being embarrassing.

“What.” Johnny says blankly.

“Nevermind that, I’m just saying. You’re fine if you don’t want to wear pants!” You say it like you’re arguing but he’s fond of it. If he thinks hard enough, it’s almost like you’re asking him to take his pants off.

“What if I’m naked under these?”

You flush again, surely he’s not. Right?

“But you’re not.” You reassure yourself.

“You’re right, I have briefs on but they’re embarrassing.”

“Then I wont look?” You ask him, still wondering if he’s going to accept the invite to your bed.

“Bullshit! You’ll look, don’t lie.”

“Okay, true but what if like—” You laugh at yourself because less than ten minutes ago the two of you were getting hot and heavy, and now you’re arguing about denim rashes and whether or not Johnny should keep his pants on. “What if I take off my shorts, you take off your pants, neither of us look. There? Fair?”

Johnny squints his eyes at you.

“You really think I’m not going to look?”

“You think I wont look either?” You laugh back.

“Okay the pants stay on. I was unprepared.”

“Sad for you, I came prepared because Haechan told me to.” You laugh at the way the color runs from his cheeks and he opens his mouth like he’s shocked.

“Okay, pants off then.” Johnny relents, standing up and uncomfortably revealing what he’s sporting in his tight skinny jeans. You can see that the zipper probably did some damage, but you look away as you hear him unzip and unbutton the jeans. The sound alone enough to send your thoughts into the gutter of what could have happened moment ago had the two of you not been so fucking awkward.

“Okay you can sleep on the couch!” You yell as you pace to your room and slam the door.

You realize that Johnny is in your apartment, what you guys just did, and the whole situation of asking him to sleep over. Now, he’s taking off his pants so he can see what you wore just in case. And Goddammit, why were you so sly in telling him?! Haechan told you to dress with easy access, you didn’t, but you sure as fuck put on the cutest bra and pair of panties of own! You weren’t even if sure if anything was going to happen. You didn’t think you’d actually even talk to him, yet here you are, slipping off your shorts and throwing yourself under your blankets, trying to pretend like Johnny wont waltz in here and embarrass himself to the point of making you feel like he deserves a peek.

You can hear him shuffling around and you realize you never showed him around your apartment. It’s small enough for him to find his way though, you’re sure. But what if he really does just sleep on the couch? A nightmare. The audacity he would have if he slept on the couch after such an invite from you! But, part of you thinks he totally would, just to get a rise out of you. Just to see if you would stomp in there and demand he sleep in your bed. Would you even do that in this situation? Damn right you would.

The shame is gone, the guilt still stays from how you treated him before but he seems so eager to forgive and forget. As long as it means things can stay like this, you’re more willing than you’d like to admit that you would throw yourself head first into everything that is Johnny Suh.

A year ago you only seen him as a nameless neighbor. A month ago you hated him. And now? You guess people really do change, you just never thought it would be you to break and allow yourself the pleasures of life, at least not before finishing your degree. In all fairness, your energy levels have sky rocketed since meeting them officially, even if a lot of that energy was negative. You’re kind of excited to see how the next semester will play out now that you genuinely enjoy where you live, who you’re around, and – fuck. You realize college will end. This will all come to and end, everyone will get their degrees and part ways. You always thought about your future to the point of nearly killing yourself for it, but did you even stop to think that you’d really make it? That you’d be happy during the journey? That you could lose everyone you met through it?

Then you remember why you avoided friendships, relationships, and even a late-night drink. Are you loosening up too much? Or are you just happy?

Is being happy always this scary?

“Knock knock?” You hear his voice on the other side of your door, and you sink further into your mattress, wondering why you allowed yourself to get so anxious again.

The door creaks open though you didn’t respond to his vocal knocks. You stare up at him as you peek from the edge of your blanket, knowing how much more bare you are than him. You take a moment to admire the stupidly bright and patterned briefs he had on, and swallowed once at the swollen lump they’re hiding.

“You said you wouldn’t look—” He says as he places his hands uncomfortably in front of his briefs. You can see his arms flex, his chest is naked and bare in front of you and it’s actually more distracting than the briefs.

“No, I said I would look.” You shoot back, voice a little shaky at the realization of your situation, fears of the future, and Johnny as a whole. He’s too hot, too caring, too….Johnny.

“Disrespectful.” He shoots, trying to shimmy his way to the other side of your bed without letting you get too much of a look at the briefs. “You’re a pervert.” He finally adds as he watches the way your eyes stare him down, smirking to himself, feeling on top of the world.

He stops for a moment as he pulls the blankets up to crawl into your bed next to you, briefs in full view as he realized that you’d taken off your shirt as well as shorts, still covering the bits in the matching underwear you’d chosen for that night.

“Oh–“ He says with a deep sigh, averting his eyes to anywhere but you as he sinks into your bed beside you. His body is stiff as he lies next to you, wanting to touch, cuddle, grope, kiss—but he keeps his composure. It’s his first time seeing you like this, the most he’s seen is a shoulder blade from the facetime call when you were in a towel.

“Are you freaked out?” You question, noticing his level of discomfort. “I can put a shirt back on—” You hope he declines, because you can practically feel the heat radiating from his skin the moment he’s next to you. So warm.

“No!” He almost shouts it, embarrassing himself. “Just still don’t know what the boundaries are…” He trails off, looking at the way you sit up and expose your back to him.

“I don’t even know what my boundaries are.” You say with a soft voice as you turn back to look at him and the way his messy hair lays against the pillow. “You know what ‘no’ means though, right?”

“Of course I do?”

“Have I said it yet?” You look away, wondering what your own intentions are.

“No… “ He answers in a whisper, furrowing his brows at you.

“Then I guess you haven’t reached the boundary yet.”

You look back at each other for a long moment before you flop yourself back down next to him, hair hitting him in the face before you pull it away from him in annoyance. “Really should get a hair cut—” You pause as you feel him shift onto his side towards you.

You’re too afraid to turn to face him, to look at him as closely as you did before but you can feel his eyes scanning over you. Your body is completely covered just like his own, but you feel like you’re laid out bare right now.

“This is the first time I’ve had someone in this bed with me.” You say nonchalantly, swallowing thickly as you feel him stare at you. You continue to look at the ceiling, trying to feel calm. You realize you haven’t washed your face, brushed your teeth, or even brushed your hair.

“Lucky me~” He sings out, but you can feel his breath on your cheek, that’s when you realize just how close he is to you.

“Are you okay with this?” He asks as he slowly traces his fingers over your stomach before clasping his arm around your hip.

“I’ll tell you if I’m not okay—” You finally turn to look at him, and his eyes look so sleepy and droopy. His lips are parted and you can tell he’s quite literally fighting his urge to sleep.

“Johnny?” You say, and he opens his eyes fully again. “We should do things without thinking about the outcome so much,” You pause, wondering if it’s too much to talk about when he’s very nearly passing out next to you. “I don’t want to be afraid for the future anymore.” You continue, and you can feel his finger tips lazily start tracing shapes against your skin. “Lets tell each other from now on if it’s too much, or too little, okay?”

He nods against you as you watch his face go slightly more slack.

“You were so awake a few minutes ago, you must be tired—” You whisper out to him, still feeling wide awake. “Promise we will find our boundaries together?”

Johnny opens his eyes and looks at you.

“Together.” He confirms to himself. “I’d like that.” His voice is raspy and soft, he smells stale and you’re sure you do too at this point. But it’s comforting. It’s what you are at this moment, it’s what Johnny is. Yourselves. Scared shitless but ready to try.

And as you look at him, he very quickly falls asleep. You can tell by the way he parts his lips and starts to snore almost as loudly as Taeyong did. It’s embarrassing, but at least you’re smiling.

That night you allow yourself to fall asleep enveloped by him. His heavy limbs overtaking your entire body when he throws them over you. He moves around a lot in his sleep, but it’s nice when you’re waking up several different times through the night just to see which position he found the most comfortable.

The last time you woke up, it was because the feeling of him over you was no longer present. When you opened your eyes you found him curled up on his side and facing away from you. You felt no offense over it because you like to sleep the same way. So, you take this chance to cuddle up close against his back as you curl into him.

You didn’t wake again until morning and when you did, he was still there, still asleep, still looking vulnerable in his stupid briefs. You want to make breakfast.

You replay it time and time again in your head, every second of the day when you’re awake. When you’re asleep, sometimes you dream about it. You feel like you’ve been drenched in sweet colors and lights when you remember the way he kissed you the morning after he slept over. You didn’t feel empty when he left despite the silence.

That silence was short lived when you checked your phone to see, as usual, Haechan and Mark prying in the private chat. You were shocked this time to see both Taeyong and Jaehyun were added to the original group chat you shared with Johnny, Mark, and Haechan. Even those two were being annoying about it.

Yong: johnny walked in the house with a boner

Jaehyun: shes still playing hard to get lmao

Jaehyun: I felt bad for him

Mark: yall do realize this isn’t the right group chat right?

Yong: no I kno I just wanted her to make fun of him with me

Jaehyun: y/n why you leaving our boy john to take care of himself

Haechan: looooooooooool im gonna go over and see if shes all bothered too

Johnny: it was just my zipper! I didn’t zip it!

Yong: oh so you DID get some

Johnny: NO I JUST FORGOT TO ZIP IT

Yong: why was it unzipped in the first place

Jaehyun: yeah johnny why was it unzipped

The messages stopped there for a few minutes before Mark texted again.

Mark: johnny is about to fight taeyong and jaehyun in the kitchen better get over here fast

Mark: y/n?

Mark: im coming over

Haechan: ME TOO

And so here you are, sitting at your kitchen table as Mark assures you that Johnny did not have a boner, and Haechan is laughing because he definitely did.

“So, for real though,” Mark goes to ask and then looks around your apartment. “What happened? Did you guys like…yknow?”

Haechan leans forward to the point of the chair nearly slipping out from under him and you snort a bit at their excitement. It’s so funny how invested they are, you hate to disappoint,

“We didn’t—” You say sternly before smiling. “But we still had some fun.”

Mark’s mouth falls open. “That explains the boner.”

“You said he didn’t have one!” You mock him.

“Dude, you clearly saw it when he left.” Mark corrects you and ends the joke there. “You did it, you told him, and then you blue balled him.”

“Now he’s in his room crying.” Haechan adds, chef kissing his fingers. “Beautiful!”

“I mean,” You shrug as if you’re proud of yourself. “It’s not like I wouldn’t have. But we are still trying to like, get a feel of eachother I guess?”

“A feel huh?” Haechan laughs, leaning his elbows on the table and smiling at you.

“I guess you could say that?”

Mark smiles fondly at you, he’s proud of you for coming out of your shell, for admitting your feelings and ultimately because you seem to be letting yourself feel happy.

“When are you guys gonna hang out again?” Mark asks, still looking at you like a proud dad.

“I dunno, whenever I get invited over I guess?”

“You literally have free reign over our place, just come over?” Mark questions you, wondering why they always need to invite you over when they literally just walk into your apartment like they own it at this point. “Just think of it as your second house. We always have room for you.”

You smile at him and then look down.

“It’s kind of stupid but—” You look back up at them, sharing a look between the two. “I like to feel wanted. When I’m invited it means you guys want to see me.”

“We always want to see you.” Haechan says sternly then leans forward to grab your hand. “Johnny definitely always wants to see you—” Mark interrupts him. “I think Johnny would cry if you came over uninvited saying you wanted to see him.”

You smile again, they must like to feel wanted too. Maybe inviting you all the time makes them feel annoying or pushy, so maybe you should just show up on your own sometimes. You’re like 50 feet from their front door when you’re sitting on your couch. You can’t imagine going a day without at least seeing one of them. Whether it be as a group or one on one. You’ve yet to have one on one time with Taeyong or Jaehyun, maybe you should extend an invite.

You pull out your phone.

“What’re ya doing?” Mark asks, looking at your phone.

“Texting Taeyong.”

“Oh?” Haechan perks up in curiosity.

Both of their phones vibrate with the group chat message.

You: I am choosing to ignore the conversation above. Taeyong if you’re done getting your ass kicked, do you want to come over?

Yong: wait

Yong: me?

You: yeah? If you don’t want to we can try another time! You seem pretty busy tbh

Jaehyun: what about me :(

Yong: shut up she asked for me

You: ok cool, door is unlocked when you have time!

You laugh at how quickly Johnny texted you separately from the rest of them. You assume it may have made him feel left out, so you’re quick to open the text.

beefy neighbor: wow are you already tired of me? Lmao just kidding, have fun today!

You know he partially meant what he said, because you’re the same way.

You: I just wanted to try and have more one on one time with everyone. Ill text you when he leaves

Johnny is typing, but he stops. Then he types again. Mark looks over your shoulder and gets a glimpse of the texts.

“Oh my god, he totally misses you.”

“Tell him you miss him first; it’ll make him get a boner again” Haechan adds on to Mark’s annoying comment. You do exactly what they tell you to do.

You: miss you

He keeps typing then stopping again and you start to feel embarrassed. Just as you go to yell at Mark and Haechan as a pair, he finally texts back.

beefy neighbor: Already? Weirdo

You glare at the two men in front of you and show them his message.

“You guys made me look stupid.”

“Read the new text.” Mark says, blushing and averting his eyes. Haechan slaps him in excitement with a smile. “They’re in looooooove!”

You lift a brow and flip your phone back to yourself before instantly turning red.

beefy neighbor: miss your lips

beefy neighbor: and you!!! not just your lips lol

You barely know how to respond to that. It’s been a long, long time since anyone has ever said anything like that to you. It’s been even longer since someone was able to get such a reaction out of you.

“You’re blushing so hard right now.” Mark comments as he squints at you to make you feel as vulnerable as possible. “Sorry I had to see that though.”

“No you’re not.” You shoot back as you wonder what you’re supposed to say back to Johnny. You can’t just leave him hanging right? Be casual.

You: pervert.

You: thank you for missing me back

You still feel stupid for responding that way, making yourself look weak but you don’t mind if it’s Johnny who sees it.

“So, I guess Taeyong is coming over today,” You look back at the two men who are firmly planted in their seats. “Leave.”

“What? Why?!” Haechan protests followed by Mark tilting his head in question at you.

“Guys, I’m trying to have a one on one with everyone. Not just you.”

They both huff and look at each other.

“I was getting bored anyway,” Mark tries to say to make you feel guilty, but he knows it doesn’t work when you look at him in a way that has him buckling in on himself. “It was a joke! Sheesh!” He sighs as he pulls himself up and drags Haechan with him.

“I thought you loved me.” Haechan asks as he gets pulled to the door, trying to be stupidly dramatic, and it works.

“You dumb bitch, I love both of you!” You shout as you stand up to follow behind them. Without hesitation you hug them both, starting to feel a little bad for kicking them out just to hang out with Taeyong.

“You guys act like it’s the literal end of the world.” You laugh, feeling good today. “You have other friends too, go give them some love.”

“She’s right, I actually have to work in a few hours too.” Haechan says, finally letting his childish side simmer down a bit. “Wanna come get some free coffee?” He asks towards Mark as they’re let outside.

“Hey, go ahead and send Taeyong over! Tell him I don’t have anything to eat!” You shout after them.

Mark waves behind him as they make their way next door. And now you’re alone for at least a few minutes.

You flop down on the couch and just stare up for a moment. You can still smell Johnny somehow, and you wonder if you’re just exaggerating but the scent is right there. You lean into it for a moment before pulling yourself up and rushing to your bedroom. You leap into your bed and roll around for a moment, feeling like a pet attempting to pick up a scent that isn’t your own so that you can claim it for yourself.

This is stupid. Why didn’t you take more time to take in the way he smells so sickeningly musky in a way that draws you in entirely? Why did you hold back? Sure, finding boundaries and all of that shit but like— after spending the moments you have with him, you don’t think Johnny could ever reach a boundary. He’s been so respectful, and funny, and lovable, and soft, and just so overwhelmingly good. Why didn’t you see it before?

You’ve had these men, who you could very confidentially call your best friends, right fucking next to you this whole time. And you were so insufferable towards them. You’re so lucky to have them, they’re so unlucky to have you. But it’s what they want, right? That’s why you’re in group chats. That’s why you’ve been invited time and time again to their parties even before you knew their names? It’s why they tried to break into your apartment for you, why they told you they heard you moaning, why they invited you to their ‘strictly bro’ hangouts getting drunk at a movie theater, right?

Your heart is so full, you love them. You love all of them to the very core and it’s almost terrifying how much of yourself you’re suddenly so willing to throw at them. It doesn’t matter if you part ways after college. The feeling you have around that stupid fucking frat can’t be broken by distance, there’s no fucking way. You can imagine it now, off at your first job when Haechan shows up with a half incorrect coffee order, and you tip him 300% because you just adore him so much. Buying Mark’s art from his first official website, paying out the ass for his talent so you can brag about him to other people. Holding Johnny’s hand either every day or every weekend, you don’t care if he lives in the same city, as long as you can still just see him and be close to him. You’ve yet to learn enough about Jaehyun or Taeyong but you know they could fit into your future visions easily.

Then you realize how you’re looking at the future, how you hope for a future with Johnny, surrounded by friends and love and comfort. You don’t feel scared this time. You can work just as hard on your relationships as you do your studies right? It’s not only your career that you want to work out in the end now, you have to put in the effort in every aspect of your life.

You still don’t even know where you and Johnny stand, but you’re happy where you are and, dare you say it, excited to see where it leads.

Your phone vibrates.

Yong: you invite me over and youre not even gonna feed me?

Yong: want me to bring food or?

You laugh because you’re honestly the worst host.

You: you can bring snacks, but we can go see Haechan at work later and try to bribe him for free food

Yong: is he even allowed to do that?

Mark: idk he said I could have free coffee but I don’t really wanna go anywhere today, you guys should take up his offer and annoy him

Yong: snacks it is, ill be over in a few

You: nice, see you soon

Haechan: yaaaaaaay come see me at work!! I start my ship at 5!!!

With that, you wait patiently for Taeyong.

It was awkward at first. Taeyong walking in, acting the way he usually would. Stiff, posture almost perfect, hair in an intentional mess that frames his face in a way that’s almost feminine. When you look at him as he awkwardly stands in your kitchen with snacks in his hands, you find yourself thinking about how intimidating he would be on the street as a stranger. You’d be afraid to approach him.

“You’re intimidating, yknow that?” You comment as you finally go to help put the snacks down. He looks to you with a warm smile, though usually he is snide.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” He clicks his tongue as he accidentally lets a container of oreos fall on your floor. “Not sure why people think that— but I like it. Lets me keep my circle small.”

You nod in agreement because you get it. Maybe he’s like you, not really wanting friends. Maybe the rest of the frat wiggled their way into his heart like they did to you.

“So, how did you meet the guys?” You say as you reach down for the oreos and sighing in relief when you see that nothing spilled onto your floor.

“Thanks,” Taeyong says as you pick up his accidental mess, finally flopping down onto the kitchen chair and grabbing the oreos from you. He opens the package with a loud ‘rip’ and stuffs one in his mouth before breathing through his nose and shooting his eyes back to you.

If Taeyong were anything other than human, you’d think he would be like…a piercing needle or a tattoo gun or something. Attractive as hell, kind of has a dangerous vibe about him but for some reason you think he’s probably never hurt another person in his life.

“I met Johnny first.” He comments, sighing out like he’s about to spill the beans. “Remember the ex I mentioned?”

You nod at him and his confidence. He doesn’t feel awkward with you at all, and you’re thankful because one on ones can be hard to get going.

“She cheated on him, and like—” He pops another oreo in his mouth. “They were together for like, what? Two years?”

You nod like you knew that.

“I met Johnny when they first started dating, because I’d see her come into the theater with other guys all the time.” He laughs like it’s some sort of joke, but you just kind of look down.

“I snitched.” He laughs again. “Like, I always saw him with her on campus, and I remember seeing him give her some expensive and elaborate gift.” He throws an oreo at you and you gladly pop it into your mouth as he continues. “So like, as soon as I saw him without her I was like ‘hey man I work at the theater’—” He groans out. “He looked at me like, ‘okay?’ and I swear I just wanted to slap the shit out of him.”

You laugh because you assume Johnny isn’t the best at first impressions, and also because Taeyong seems to really love spilling all of the details about Johnny’s past.

“Then I was like, she’s totally cheating on you dude and, he didn’t believe me at first.” Taeyong adjusts his posture and leans forward to grab a saltier snack. Smart choice. “I guess he found out on his own not long after, admitting that he knew.”

“And he stayed with her?” You grimace at the idea.

“That’s kind of how I learned how stubborn he is. He stayed with her for so long, even after knowing what she does behind his back.”

You feel sad about it. She must have really taken advantage of him.

“Some dude was here before me, but it turned out that she cheated on Johnny with him too—” He groans again out of annoyance. “So, he asked if I wanted a good deal, like he invited me to the frat to hang out a few times before the fact of course.”

You continue to nod, glad that he seems to enjoy talking. He’s a good storyteller.

“On the down low he offered my rent at a cheaper price in exchange for sabotaging his so called ‘friend’ that slept with his girlfriend.” Taeyong shrugs. “I mean, I asked him why he was still with her if he cared so much, and that’s also kinda how I learned how Johnny is with his feelings.”

You listen intently and with purpose, though it feels so private.

“Apparently, he took ages just to admit his feelings to her, and it was proven when he did that to you too. Personally, I think he’s afraid he’ll never be good enough for people in an intimate way, so he let it drag on trying to prove himself wrong. But who knows?” He coughs, choking slightly on his chip. ”Anyway—I got the guy to leave by flirting with him.”

You laugh out loud about that.

“Flirting?!”

“Homophobes man. Dude was open as hell about it, little did he know—Johnny had just moved in the most obvious bisexual dude on the campus.”

“Wait!” You call out, stopping the story. “You’re bisexual?”

“Uh, yeah?” And he says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Anyway, me and Johnny have been super close since then and he never raised my rent. He pays my left-over share because I give them free snacks at the theater.”

Okay, makes sense.

“Wow, what a good deal. I can barely even afford living here on financial aid. Was it hard for you before you moved into the frat?”

Taeyong shakes his head at first, then stops himself to nod.

“I mean, I like to work hard when I need to. I was working a lot of overtime to pay for things, now I barely have to work a full twenty five hours. I’m thankful I guess.”

“So what happened after the guy left?”

“Johnny stayed with her. Like I said, I think he was trying to prove himself, but she never changed no matter how many gifts he gave, no matter how hard he tried.” Taeyong shakes his head in pity. “Dude could have the whole world under his fingertips and he got all caught up in someone like her.”

You look down again, feeling even worse at how you treated him before.

“Me and the other guys clicked immediately because they knew why I was there. In a way I’m thankful for her because I got to meet them, but it was still like torture seeing him end it, then go right back in the matter of a few days—” Taeyong leans towards you. “You know they were on a break when he finally met you right?”

You glance away from him because his eyes are entirely too intense to make eye contact when he’s speaking directly to you.

“I didn’t, no.”

“I don’t know what you did, but his entire vibe shifted after he met you.” Taeyong crosses his arms and leans back. “I think he likes to go for the girls who make it difficult, because it means they’re not out for his money or something. He likes to prove himself, but when he can’t he gets stuck.”

“I—didn’t mean to do that to him.’

“No, I’m glad you gave him a new focus, even if it confused him at first too. For the first time we didn’t have to hear about his ex in a drunken rant. Instead it was just him moping about how you’re a bitch for liking everyone but him.”

“Oh.” You’re quiet for a moment.

“I’m thanking you. I don’t think he would have focused on you if you were nice to him.”

“But wasn’t I like, too mean?”

“Sometimes, yeah. But he’s not with his ex anymore and now he’s smiling more because of you. Even if he thought we banged.”

You laugh at that, what a big stupid man for thinking that. Sure, Taeyong is pretty and you probably wouldn’t have rejected him before if he were the one pulling you out of the dark hole that is your life. Now, though, he’s so Taeyong, you couldn’t imagine.

“Hey,” You interrupt the conversation, feeling kind of bad. “I feel like I’m always talking about Johnny. It must be exhausting, or boring or something.”

“Not really, I think it’s fun to intrude.” Taeyong says in the most nonchalant voice in the world.

“I want to learn more about you though—” You make eye contact, remembering your own past that you’ve only barely touched on with the others.

“Okay, what do you want to know?” He leans back again and looks at the clock. Still plenty of time.

“Anything? Everything?”

He huffs out in a large sigh and taps his fingers on the table. “Where to start where to start.”

“I can go first if you want?”

“Ooooh, do tell.” He immediately responds.

“I’m basically trailer trash. Came from no money, a family of drug addicts, no future in mind or even being considered by the people I grew up around.” You admit it so easily, almost feeling free that he knows now.

“Ah, that must’ve been rough. Why are you in college now?” He leans forward showing interest, almost proud of himself for getting this time with you.

“I felt like I needed to prove something to them? I thought it was for myself until I realized how much I was neglecting my own needs just to get through each semester, “

Taeyong nods and pats your hand in comfort, but you feel okay. You don’t really need the comfort, you still accept it though.

“I promised myself I wouldn’t go back there, even if I had some good memories. I just felt like I needed to be better. And I needed to keep myself closed off because I was afraid of all of the outside influence.”

“You and I were pretty similar, yknow?” Taeyong offers up his own story to relate. “Not from a trailer, but I’ve lived in them before. I didn’t come from money either, family always spending it on useless things. Drugs too. Hate to say I had my fair share too.”

“Me too.” You relate.

“Wasn’t as good as people said it was in the end, was it?”

“No. I’m glad we both got out of it.” You hate to say it, but you’re kind of glad to have something in common, even if it’s sad.

“So, what brought you to college then? How’d you get out?” You ask.

“Same as you. I really wanted to do music, but no one listens to the kid whose parents pick up their latest fill at the local mc donalds, huh?”

You laugh, it’s painful but it’s fucking true.

“Financial aid is a fucking godsend.” You say back to him, and he nods his head graciously.

“So was Johnny. I know I said it wasn’t too difficult for me before, but thinking back to when I was on my own—jesus christ.” He shakes his head at himself. “I don’t know how I managed to work so much and attend gen eds just to get to where I wanted to be.”

“Yknow, I’m glad we have that in common.”

“I’m not.” Taeyong responds with ease, but it doesn’t seem angry. “I hate that it’s so common for kids like us to have to venture out into the world without being prepared just because our parents didn’t know how to be parents.”

“Yeah, but I’m glad I can share it with you and not feel like an outsider.”

Taeyong looks up at you again, a sharp gaze in his eyes as he studies you.

“Does anyone else know about this with you?” He questions and you simply shake your head. “You do know that they’d think no differently of you, right? They’d probably be super amazed by how far you’ve come on your own.”

“They were like that with me. Johnny, Mark, Jaehyun, and Haechan? They were all coddled by their parents to the point of feeling smothered. We all kind of meet in the middle and balance each other out—”

“You’re so open, Taeyong. I’m going to sound super lame but I really admire you for that.”

He just shrugs, like it’s the most normal thing a person can do. Open up about their past and share their worst insecurities and experiences with people.

“You should try it, it feels better when you stop expecting reactions.”

“Noted.” You respond, smiling.

“Thanks for opening up to me too, and inviting me over even though you didn’t feed me.” He says it with a smile on his face, his eyes becoming more round. This face reveals a side of Taeyong you’ve never seen.

“Your eyes look like the moon right now.” You say it out of nowhere and it shocks him for a moment. He stutters trying to respond.

“Woah now, save that cliché shit for Johnny.”

“No, I mean like, no offence but you always look so angry and uninterested. I’ve never seen you make a face like this before.” You say in a quick explanation.

“Bro, it’s just my fuckin’ face, what do you want from me?”

You shrug this time, laughing at him.

“You’re incredibly scary, but you don’t scare me.” You joke at him. His eyes are still rounder than before, almost child like. How the fuck has the entire planet not fallen to their knees for this man?

“Boo.” Taeyong tries to joke, but his face is so incredibly serious you nearly snort in his face at the sheer stupidity of the situation. “,bitch.” He adds, trying to look more intense.

“Please, stop, you’re embarrassing yourself.” You throw an oreo at him and he gasps in pain.

It goes silent for a moment as he looks around your kitchen again and then he bites the inside of his cheek.

“Hey, have you ever considered commissioning Mark so your walls aren’t so bare?”

Your face falls for a moment and you think about it. With what money?

“Listen, as much as I’d love to, I don’t have the money to commission him.”

“Fair enough, always pay to support friends, right?”

You nod.

Teayong takes note in his head about how empty this apartment really is. You don’t even have a TV.

“When is your birthday?” He asks again and you glare at him in suspicion.

“Why?” You ask in a small, sharp voice. “Don’t get me gifts because I can’t repay them.”

“That’s why they’re called gifts.” He laughs at you and then leans forward, eyes back to the piercing gaze. “When is it?”

“You don’t scare me.”

“Okay, fine.” Taeyong says as he pulls out his phone and opens some sort of app.

You try to lean forward to see but he hides his phone.

“Ah, got it. It’s coming up.” He laughs but feels kind of offended that you hadn’t mentioned it to anyone.

“What the fuck bro, did you pull up my socials!? I don’t even use them!”

“Good thing I do, huh?” He laughs at you, blatantly, in your face. “Set your shit to private if you don’t want anyone knowing.”

You instantly unlock your phone and do that, set it all to private so that no one else can ever learn anything about you again. You’re being incredibly dramatic right now, and you’re not sure if it’s because Haechan is rubbing off on you, or because you’re finally finding your personality again.

By the time you and Taeyong come back to your place after annoying Haechan during his shift, you both had stolen scones and a good mood. You didn’t realize how quickly time passed when you were with him, and you no longer feel intimated or awkward around him. Jaehyun will be next, and you’re not so sure you’ll find something in common with him, but you still like him from what you do know.

“I think I’m gonna head home now—” Taeyong says as he gets up from your couch. “I know we just got back but like,”

“Nah, it’s cool. I need to shower and stuff. I’m gross.”

Taeyong nods at you with a smile and goes to hug you. You eagerly accept and do your best not to feel sad.

“It was fun, we should hang out more often.” He laughs as he goes to open the front door. “Really, just text me if you wanna hang out or need to talk or something. Stop letting the other shit heads take all of you time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You say as you smile at him.

“And lock your door after I leave.” He calls out behind him as he walks outside.

“I will!” You say back. “Text me so I know you get home safely!”

He throws a laugh in your direction as he starts to cross the yard, and then you hear him let out a high pitched scream after you closed your door.

“IM HOME!!” he screamed, and you can only laugh at him. He’s definitely just pissed off some neighbor, but it wasn’t you for once.

As you turn around to face your apartment, the chaos of the day, the chaos of last night, you slump to the floor and suddenly feel incredibly overwhelmed. You’d barely been alone in what felt like forever, though you know you’re exaggerating. You haven’t the slightest idea of how you lived like this and enjoyed it. Just—alone. No color on the walls, no specific scent, no noise, no thoughts that were positive, no Mark, no Haechan, no Taeyong, Jaehyun, or Johnny.

You’ve made so many precious memories in such a short span of time, you want to write them down, you want photos, videos. Proof that it’s happened and is still happening. Proof that things happening to you right now are precious and you want to cling to them so desperately so that it’s no longer uncomfortable to be in your apartment alone.

Things are changing so drastically, you have so much energy, and no matter how much of it you spend with the others—it doesn’t go away. You want more from everyone. You want to busy yourself being annoyed and being annoying, you need your energy to go somewhere other than running in your thoughts of everything you’ve done and everything you want to do.

Silence. It’s so loud by yourself.

You should find a second hand tv, you should get back into music and learn about a new band, you should try to create something, or be something other than a shell of a person just studying at college. You want to do something, you want to be someone. This is a new anxiety you’ve never felt, you can feel your bones vibrate though you’re barely moving.

“This feels awful.” You whisper to yourself, almost to prove that you exist. It feels so weird, it feels stupid that you’re uncomfortably full of energy when you used to pray to gods you don’t believe in just for the energy to pull yourself out of bed.

Your eyes shift across the room, and then they land on your phone. You wanna talk to Johnny, right this fucking minute.

You: johnny

He texts back so quickly that it’s almost embarrassing.

beefy neighbor: y/n

You: distract me

beefy neighbor: ??? from what?

beefy neighbor: whats wrong?

You: nothing serious, I just don’t know what to do with myself, heeeeelp

beefy neighbor: felt like that all day, I get it

You smile to yourself for being able to share something relatable to Johnny. You would have never admitted it before, but it’s easy now. You nearly muffle a scream into a pillow as you flop around on your couch trying to drain some of this energy.

You: come overrrrrrrrrr

You feel like you might come across as annoying, but you don’t even care at this point. It doesn’t matter if you look clingy or desperate or anything like that. Because you are, and you’re unashamed about it right now.

beefy neighbor: don’t get me wrong I totally would but I kinda cant

Why the fuck not?

You: why the fuck not

beefy neighbor: you’re aggressive, lol, I like it.

You: ok but tell me why

beefy neighbor: mark got scolded by his parents and he’s kinda wanting to hang out with me tonight

You don’t want to break them apart from their normal lives. You’d never seen Mark upset and you kind of think that’s what is happening next door right now. So you don’t press the issue any further and decide to suffer in your own silence, groaning the whole time. You text the group chat to waste time.

You: mark ily

Mark: aww :)

Haechan: um hello?

Yong: same haechan

Mark: why cant you guys just let me have my moment?

You: I only love mark right now

Everyone in the chat sends angry emojis, but you know it was banter. You just kind of want to help him feel better if he’s managed to have Johnny worried about leaving him.

Your phone vibrates.

beefy neighbor: Thanks for texting that, it made him feel a little better.

You: im glad, is there anything else I can do?

beefy neighbor: not sure, still wish I could come over though

And you don’t know what the fuck you were thinking when you sent it, but you did.

You: what would you want to do if you came over?

Clearly there are implications. You have so much energy and you just don’t know where to put it right now. Might as well flirt right? Johnny is trapped at his house right now, why can’t you be a little…y’know…

beefy neighbor: what are you asking me

You: idk, I was just asking…like, what would you wanna do?

beefy neighbor: well it’s not like we can watch a movie lmao

Asshole. You still smile though.

You: you said you missed my lips earlier, don’t think I forgot.

beefy neighbor: Are you trying to seduce me via text because you know I cant come over there right now?

You laugh, because absolutely. For some reason, it feels fun, safe, kind of secretive. Almost risky because you know you can do whatever you want and Johnny would have to sit there embarrassed, trying to hide his shame from all of the other guys in the house. Confidence feels nice. You’re glad he lets you have the confidence to do this.

You: yes :)

beefy neighbor: I hate you

You: you miss me

beefy neighbor: ask me again

you: what would you wanna do if you were over?

You’re probably gonna get off tonight whether he plays along or not. It’s been too long. The painful grinding from the night before was a welcome change, but you were so focused on what a boundary was that you could barely let yourself go and just have fun. It means something with Johnny, but you already told him. You will find boundaries together.

beefy neighbor: i

beefy neighbor: don’t know how to answer but I want to

You: did I find a boundary?

beefy neighbor: NO im just like, trying to process this side of you

You whine out to yourself. Why were you so difficult for him before? Sure, it’s ultimately what pulled him towards you but now you’re both suffering.

You: can you wear more comfortable pants when you come over next time? So we don’t have to stop?

Johnny does that thing he does, when he types, then he stops, then he types again. It feels like forever goes by before he finally responds to you, but it’s all too good when you finally read it.

beefy neighbor: gladly, it still felt good in the jeans tho. just didn’t know if it was too much.

You: are you wearing comfortable pants right now?

Johnny doesn’t hesitate to respond.

beefy neighbor: yeah. . . why?

You: you would’ve been so prepared. I’m less than thirty seconds away from you right now

Suddenly you get shy, shocked almost, at your confidence.

beefy neighbor: god, why are you torturing me

You: do you want me to stop?

beefy neighbor: no…

You: are you alone?

beefy neighbor: also no…

You take a moment to push all of your thoughts aside and wonder If you should do it. It’s just a picture right? You wont get to see his reaction, but he doesn’t want you to stop and you have enough energy to move too fast, to be overwhelmed, and to feel good.

Without another thought you find yourself standing in front of your bathroom mirror, fixing your hair, taking your clothes off, and plumping your chest. You snap a few shots, different poses, different faces, and none of them really seem good enough as you stare at them. Before you even attempt to pick one out, you go back to your texts.

You: you’ll tell me if you want me to stop?

beefy neighbor: I wont be asking you to.

Instantly you select a photo and send it before you can change your mind. And then you sit silently against your bathroom counter just staring at the messages.

beefy neighbor: you’re fucking kidding me??

beefy neighbor: you have no idea how hard it is to want you when you’re so close to me already

You: then come over

Johnny groans and his eyes dart to Mark. They’re both in his room and the younger man is just pacing back and forth staring at his phone. He just knows he’s going to get a call from his father again, asking why he’s switched his major to art. The room is full of anxiety, yet Johnny feels selfish. Wanting nothing more than to leave Mark on his own and go straight to your apartment and—he cant. Mark is a priority, because this has been a long time coming. He’s actually shocked that his parents only just found out.

beefy neighbor: I really, really want to. But I cant.

You sigh. Guess this is all you’re going to get tonight.

beefy neighbor: please understand that I really want to

You: I trust you, is this still okay then?

He must need to be there for Mark, but part of you feels bad for pulling at his attention. One with an extreme anxiety of being disowned, one who is just super horny.

beefy neighbor: it’s okay… I just kind of have to like, be secretive

You: do you want more photos?

beefy neighbor: yes

You: tell me what you want to see then?

Johnny doesn’t respond for a few minutes as you anticipate his text and hope that your selfishness doesn’t make you feel too guilty tomorrow.

beefy neighbor: send me what you think makes you feel the best

You slap yourself on the forehead, oh my god.

You: can you stop respecting my nonexistent boundaries for three seconds and just tell me what YOU want?

It’s silent again for a moment.

beefy neighbor: take off the bra

You smile to yourself, finally. Again, no hesitation you practically fling the bra off of you as you go through the motions of posing, groping yourself, trying to at least seem somewhat sexy for him before immediately sending three different photos to him.

And Johnny would be lying if he said he wasn’t spinning and feeling like he’s being pulled in too many directions at once. He excuses himself from Mark and practically runs to the bathroom where he very clearly is heavy in his sweats. As he locks the door, he’s already got his hand on himself and sighing out. He manages to fumble out a text back to you so that you’re not left waiting for too long. He feels ridiculous that he’s so turned on by so little. But it hits so different when you’re just next door.

beefy neighbor: had to run away from mark for a sec

beefy neighbor: you look so…

beefy neighbor: fucking good

You: your turn

Johnny laughs to himself, still doing his best to match the pressure against himself that you offered to him just the night before. He feels like a teenager again. He can barely pry his hand off himself just to snap a quick, and quite frankly, sloppy photo of himself to you. He’s never gotten so turned on by a mere photos of tits. But the fact that it’s you, and you’re asking for him to come over, and sending him nudes, and trying to verbally fuck him is what’s getting him going. He feels like he’s literally dying.

When you received the photo, you can’t deny that you were a little disappointed that it was still covered by his sweat pants. But, you can’t deny the size from the photo alone. Despite the fact that you can see his hand, the veins bulging just as much as what’s beneath his pants, you want to cry.

cute neighbor: I showed you skin, what gives?

Johnny lols his head to the side and then moves forward to look at himself in the mirror. He looks like hell, but he assumes you’re into that. Because he always looks this way but, he gives you what you’re asking for, not even needing more from you to get himself off within a mere thirty seconds if he needed to. He doesn’t want this to end that soon though. This is the most intimate the two of you have ever been, and it’s a shame that it’s over text. If he could just slip away for a moment.

He sends you the photo and you embarrassingly gasp considering it’s your first time seeing the full visual of his entire cock. Part of you wants to scream because you so easily went without it the night before out of fear of rushing. But clearly, you’re both ready.

You take it a step further and do something you’ve never done before. Because in all fairness, usually a dick pic wouldn’t get a reaction out of you aside from a laugh as you sext with ease, all while eating cheetos and listening to some shitty talk show. It feels different now, and you understand the point of sexting now. Without shame, you leave your panties on, but you very confidently spread your legs and stare into the camera to try and get the most attractive photo of the wet spot that had formed.

You can’t lie that it feels weird sending this specific type of photo to someone. Sure, tits are one thing but the actual intimate area? You don’t even like to be gone down on because of the sheer bashful feeling you get from someone seeing the core of all of your lust and romance. But you still did it, even if it was shielded by a thin piece of fabric. You wait.

And you wait.

More waiting.

And then a frantic knock on the door has you flinging yourself up and throwing your clothes back on. An intense embarrassment hits you straight in the heart when you rush your way to the door. Almost afraid to open it, you breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. It’s probably Mark coming to be comforted since Johnny is clearly snapping dick pics for you right? What have you gotten yourself into?

You barely even opened the door before Johnny is rushing through and mumbling a small “I cant be here for long” . Instantly, he’s grabbing you by the waist and lifting you in one swift motion, carrying you straight to the kitchen counter.

“I’m sorry.” He says to you, and you can see the desperation in his eyes match your own. “You’re just so close to me.” He practically whines in an apology as he’s quick to lift your shirt off of you.

You only barely process what’s happening before your body reacts in a way that was entirely too lustful for you to admit. No pushing him away, instead you mirror his energy and silently thank the fact that it wasn’t Mark who walked through that door.

No boundaries have been reached yet, and all you can do is sit atop this counter top feeling him touch you. It was more than enough. Just as you go to say something snarky, his lips are against you and his hand is down his sweats. You try to look down to see, but he keeps his pants in place and it prevents you. Instead, you pull him against you so that you can feel the movement of his hands on himself, rubbing against you ever so slightly.

Almost no words need to be said, and it’s true that sometimes you just have to let your bodies do the talking.

It all happened so fast, he kissed you so incredibly hard that your lips feel bruised when he pulls back and almost aggressively runs his hands along his length. You can’t see it, but you can hear it. It’s a sound that you always got so grossed out over when you heard it in porn, but you’re sitting there on the counter, listening, and seeing the way his face contorts into something you’d never seen before. The fact that he’s thinking of you while you’re right there has you feeling like you’re the only person who could do this to him and it feels so good.

He’s still got his pants up, and you’re just sitting there shirtless, feeling adored—all you can do is look at his face.

“Can I be honest?” You whisper out, leaning into him, grabbing his arm to feel the veins you’d seen not too long ago in the photo bulge with each movement he makes.

He hums out at you, and he’s never felt this incredibly desperate, he doesn’t even know why he’s here, or how he got here. But he is, and his thoughts are all red, he can only see the photos you sent to him despite having you in front of him for this brief moment.

“I could probably get off if you make yourself cum in front of me.”

So much confidence, such a snarky tone, Johnny almost wants to cry as he reaches out for you and falls right back into a kiss.

You’re shocked at how quickly he’s moving, and even more shocked when he grabs at your hand to replace his own. You don’t shy away and instead make a point to move slowly and deliberately once you feel the first touch of his cock heavy in your palm.

You’re shocked at the way he is acting. Someone who had always seemed so arrogant. It looks like he might cry.

“If this is what you wanted, you could have just said it—” He groans out of frustration, realizing it’s barely been more than a day since the two of you finally admitted you even have feelings for each other. He doesn’t care. Fuck moving too fast and fuck holding back. If you’re asking him to do this, he’s more than happy.

“I asked you to come over.” And you say it so calmly it almost pisses him off for how utterly desperate he is, yet you’re just…sitting there? Collected? While he’s falling apart?

“And now I’m here.” He says in a voice a tone darker than before. The breath is knocked out of you the second you feel his hand on your thigh, dangerously close to the area so you eagerly snapped a photo of for him.

“And what are you doing?” He adds, looking you directly in the eye.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you can barely keep your hand moving beneath his sweats as his ghosts his fingers over the wet spot on your panties, and then you sigh out.

He stops his fingers for a moment and presses himself against your hand. Realizing he quite literally stomped into your apartment and just started jerking off on you.

“Is it too much?” He asks, doing his best not to press into your hand again. “Is it too fast?”

“No, keep going–” You say, bucking your own hips against his fingers.

All rationality is out the window after you said that.

He didn’t even slide your panties to the side, and instead eagerly massaged through the fabric just to try and hope you get there before he does, but it doesn’t happen. He was so desperate, so close, and quite frankly, it was much easier for him to reach his climax before you. He didn’t want to, but you pushed for it, feeling satisfied enough with his fingers on you. And the way he tucked his face into the crook of your neck, all while continuing to keep pace with his own fingers had your ears ringing.

Even after you had pulled your hands from his pants, covered in slick, he continued. He moved his hands elegantly as if there was more of a purpose than just making you cum. He lifted his head in embarrassment at finishing before you, but shook it off as he dipped back in to kiss you. He ran his other hand to the small of your back and pressed you impossibly closer to him, closer against his fingers, into his lips. It had you groaning out, and the sudden sound of your voice echoed in the room.

You realize he was so quiet, so reversed, holding himself back from making more than the slightest noise. But when you moaned against his fingers, he praised you. He said you looked so pretty, that he was glad he came over, that he was sorry for showing up suddenly, that he liked the way you kissed him, and the way you ran your fingers against him, letting them linger a little too long on his head that caused a painful sensitivity that he somehow enjoyed. He praised you through the entire act, caressing you in ways you’d never felt before. And all you could do was feel the energy drain from you as he hit the spot time and time again until you unraveled before him. Legs spread and slack as he leaned between them, still kissing you every chance he got.

When you’d stopped squeezing your eyes shut, Johnny looked proud. Like he just accomplished a life goal and it all felt so stupid and surreal that you’re the reason this happened. You don’t feel embarrassed, instead, you feel such an immense amount of adoration for this man. All he did was touch you. All you did was touch him. You didn’t even have sex and you still feel like the messiness, the urgent fingers, the breathing, the kissing, the way his hair is messy and his eyes are tired—the way he smells like you and probably tastes like your own mouth now, it all feels like the most intimate moment you’ve ever shared with another person. You can’t help it but just stare at him. The man you were so willing to hate.

“I—” You try to say and he simply just watches you. “Mark still needs you, right?” You say in an almost sad voice, still out of breath, still sticky and musky. Radiating heat onto him effortlessly. You feel relaxed.

“I do.” He pauses and smiles at you. “Taeyong knows what’s up. I asked him to take my place for twenty minutes.”

“You have such good friends, “ You trail off, still in a daze. “I’m sad that you have to go.”

“You can sleep over, I’m sure Mark would be happy to put all of his problems on you too.” He tries to encourage you, so that way he doesn’t have to leave you here all alone. He couldn’t, not after this.

“Maybe I need more problems to focus on—” You stop yourself for a moment and look back at Johnny, who still has his body firmly planted between your legs. “How did you do it?” You ask.

His face turns into that of confusion as he looks what at you. He looks so incredibly normal in the moment, innocent even with your hand covered in his heat.

“How did you manage to make all of my problems disappear?”

He bows his head in appreciation with a small shrug and you almost want to do it all over again. Put your lips back on him, your hands back on him.

“Can I really sleep over?” You ask again, and Johnny nods his head.

So, after a quick and half assed clean up, you have no energy now, not enough to shower anyway, the two of you walk next door. You don’t hold hands, you don’t talk about what just happened, and you both try to ignore how the blushes spread equally across your cheeks are a reminder of the feeling of pure lust for one another.

Mark had already passed out in Johnny’s bed when you’d followed him to the door, and he sighs out in an apology. You don’t mind, he gave you everything you needed. Selfishly you plant a kiss directly to his lips and head to Haechan’s room. Only a short glance back at him is the approval that you needed. He doesn’t want you to sleep in Haechan’s bed again, but, he already ditched Mark once.

You’re not moving too quickly, even if it feels like it, right? That’s all you can think about as you lay there next to Haechan. You don’t even say anything as you crawl into bed with him.

You haven’t had sex with Johnny. You just fooled around. It’s just fun. But why does it seem to mean so much to you? Why does something that’s never meant much to you before, suddenly put a heaviness in your heart that has you wondering what it is that Johnny wants from you? He hasn’t asked to be your boyfriend. He blocked his ex but what if he is still thinking about her?

All of it felt so good, so scary. Half of you knows why you avoided it, and the other half of you wonders why you deny yourself these feelings.

It’s all part of growth, right?

You want to see Johnny again. You want to be with him all the time now. Haechan is a welcome face, but a love as brotherly as his isn’t exactly what you want in a moment of release. You wish you were in Mark’s place right now. But you try to set your own selfish desires aside and realize that you have friends now. You can’t prioritize yourself as much anymore.

And it kind of feels good to worry about people outside of yourself. But his touch is still on you, and your lips are still warm. When you roll over, it’s not the man you want to be in bed with, but you love him dearly. You feel so much adoration for every living body in this house and all you can do is groan at the fact that you’re in a perfect spot in life. How did you get here?

please reblog the masterlist post, not the individual chapters!

Chapter Five

#johnny suh #johnny suh smut #johnny suh fic #nct smut #nct127 smut

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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 3 years

Text

Don’t Go Baking My Heart || Seokjin

Pairing: Seokjin x reader

Summary: You fall in love with Kim Seokjin’s bakery after wandering into it to take advantage of the post-Valentine’s Day discount on the chocolates. Maybe it’s the owner’s bad jokes, maybe it’s the other regulars, maybe it’s the delicious pastries. Or maybe there’s something more that keeps you coming back to that shop.

Also available on Ao3.

Word count: 14.7k

Genre: Strangers (to Friends) to Lovers, Bakery AU, tooth-rotting Fluff, some smut

Warnings & Tags: mentions of insecurities and of former relationships, smut (vaginal sex, oral [male receiving], fingering), Jin makes Bad Jokes, Valentine’s Day themed

A/N: Soooo this was supposed to come out for Valentine’s Day, but it wasn’t ready then, so you guys get it now instead! I’m bad with puns so I definitely had to look online for those used in this oops. Finally, I’d like to give a big thank you to the amazing @elidebrey who actually worked in a bakery shop and told me all about (I’m sorry you guys ran out of milk all the time). She’s an amazing writer and you should check her out if you like the Batfam! Hope you’ll enjoy this one-shot!

February 15th

You first walk into Kim Seokjin’s bakery the day after Valentine’s Day. Your eye was caught by the chocolates and cakes you noticed on sale from the outside, and also the name of the place, The Rolling Scones, which is either genius or terrible, you can’t pick. The door bell chimes happily, first when you push the door open and then when it closes behind you.

The place is empty. There’s no one behind the counter, and you find yourself hesitating there for a second, both arms behind your back like a shy schoolgirl — which you once were, but that was a while ago now. Natural light, the cold sun of February, is falling through the bay windows, and the place is cute, clearly decorated with love and care. It makes you feel just a little warmer inside.

Since no one seems to be showing up, you take your time to look at the display. You’ve spent the past week crying over the end of your two year relationship, and you’re desperately craving something sweet and sugary to fill the hole in your heart and in your life. Post Valentine’s Day discount is definitely the best way to do that.

If you’re being completely honest with yourself, you knew this relationship was never going to be your forever. It was just a nice and comfortable situation to be in, and you expected you and him to part ways at some point.

You just didn’t particularly expect it to be now.

“Jungkook!” a strong voice shouts from the back of the shop, startling you. It’s quickly followed by a curse, and then a man walks in, glancing back with a worried expression, tying an apron around his waist and adjusting a small black hat on his head. You notice the ‘Jungkook’ tag on his apron, and it makes you soften in sympathy. The second his eyes fall on you, he recomposes himself, and shoots you a smile that’s professional, though the nervousness doesn’t quite disappear. “What can I do for you?”

“I was just looking,” you say, and he leans forward, probably straining to hear. Your voice has always had that weird tendency to become inaudible when you’re talking to strangers. “You don’t have anything with strawberries, do you?”

“I’m afraid everything we had went yesterday,” he says with a sympathetic frown.

“Oh, right,” you mumble. You’re disappointed to a stupid degree, and you know it’s because your emotions have been running wild recently, to the point where any small contrariety threatens to make you cry. Fortunately, you don’t, right now. That would be horribly embarrassing. “Um, I guess I’ll take that box and, uh, the éclair, please, then.”

“Of course!”

His movements are quick and precise as he takes it out, and you could be mistaken, but you think he’s deliberately not looking at you. You’re not particularly blaming him for it, though, because you’re doing the exact same thing.

“Anything else?” he asks once he’s done, and you shake your head, avoiding eye contact. “For here or to go? We’re also a café,” he elaborates when you give him a surprised — and slightly panicked — glance.

“Oh. To go, please,” you say, not so much because you actually want to, and much more because you’re bad at changing your plans when you had already made your decision.

Except… You eye the bakery. It’s not like you have anyone to come back to, and you don’t particularly want to be back at your apartment to wallow alone. You might even get some things done while you’re here.

“Um, actually, would you mind if I…?” The question dies on your lips. You’re already feeling too embarrassed to continue, but he looks up, eyes wide, and nods.

“No, no, please take a seat! Do you want something to drink as well?”

“That— That would be nice, actually.”

“Alright, just give me a second and I’ll bring you our, er, menu.”

It’s not a menu, it’s a list of drinks the owner printed and coated with plastic, and insists on calling a menu, but he isn’t going to tell you that.

You pick a table that faces the door, and after choosing and ordering your tea, pull out your computer. It’s not that the things you have to do can’t wait, but you don’t like sitting alone doing nothing. The shop is desperately empty, and part of you is terrified by the idea that Jungkook could come over to talk to you. That would probably end up not being completely unpleasant, but you’re not sure you can handle that much interaction with other human beings right now.

While scrolling through the text you are currently working on editing, you pick a chocolate out of the box to eat it and hold back a satisfied moan at the taste. The fact that it’s so good makes you feel a little more upset that you’ve never been in a relationship for Valentine’s Day and therefore have never been given anything like that.

It’s always been bad luck really, because you’ve been in a few relationships, but even with your last boyfriend, the two of you were on a break in February. The others never made it longer than a few months, and never fell at the right time. It’s not even like you want to celebrate Valentine’s Day, you do think it’s mostly a commercial holiday, and you definitely don’t want any expensive gift, but you’d be happy to have someone by your side to make fun of other couples with. Someone to love you, and someone to love.

God, you want to be in love so bad. For a few months, you thought you had it with your ex, and maybe you did, for a moment, but it had slipped from your fingers without you managing to do anything about it, leaving you sad and empty. You want to feel everything the movies and books promised, the butterflies in the stomach, the rush in the beat of your heart. You want to feel like someone holds your world in their hands. You want them to love you back — really love you, so much that you’ll catch them looking at you and see it in their eyes immediately, so much that they’ll remember how you like your tea in the morning.

You don’t think your ex ever loved you, and you don’t really blame him for that. He liked you, certainly, and for a long time that was enough for you. But now, with it being over and him telling you he’d ‘met someone’, you want more out of your next relationship.

Then again, you’d thought that last time as well.

You’re grateful when Jungkook brings you your tea, tearing you away from thoughts you really don’t want to be having right now. He gives you a smile, then is quick to retreat back behind the counter, and something tells you that he has the same difficulties talking to people as you do.

That can’t make his job fun.

You’re soon able to immerse yourself in your work, much to your surprise. Usually, you’re hyper aware of your surroundings, and it’s hard to get work done unless you’re in a place that’s both quiet and familiar, but the atmosphere in here is so warm and pleasant that you’re able to relax and focus, all while drinking your tea and eating your sweets. It’s quite close to perfect, actually.

Which is why you jump violently when someone’s voice booms into the shop.

“Jeon Jungkook!”

You look up, panicked, and Jungkook turns around with the exact same look on his face. You don’t remember the doorbell ringing, so it has to be someone from the shop, and indeed, a tall man with short black hair walks in from the same place Jungkook entered. And your brain short-circuits.

It doesn’t happen all that often, for you to simply find yourself frozen because of how good-looking someone is, but in that case, you just can’t help it. The man who just walked in is tall, with very nice, broad shoulders, and the apron he is wearing underlines the muscles of his chest in ways you didn’t think were possible, but more than that, he’s also, quite possibly, the most handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on. When you glance at his plump, full lips, you find yourself having a hard time to tear yourself away. You’re relieved that you didn't have to order from him, because you’re sure it would have made you blush and stutter.

“Jungkook, there’s a mess in the back! What are you waiting fo—” Jungkook gives panicked glances in your direction, and the man catches your presence from the corner of his eyes, turning his sentence around as smoothly as is humanly possible, all while his lips curve up into a professional smile. “Ooh, hello, dear customer! I don’t think we’ve seen you here before, have we?”

A smile spills on your mouth, much to your surprise.

“No, it’s my first time here,” you answer. Your voice isn’t as strong as you’d like for it to be, but at least you didn’t choke. You suppose still being heartbroken serves as a shield against the man’s handsomeness. “I figured there’d be some discount after Valentine’s Day, and I was hungry, so…”

“You figured you’d kill two birds with one scone?” the man asks while Jungkook, behind him, silently smacks his forehead. You figure he’s heard it a million time before, but you haven’t, and you can’t help but laugh. That makes the man’s smile widen genuinely and his eyes crease.

“I guess you came up with the bakery name,” you chuckle.

“Absolutely. Isn’t it a great name?”

Jungkook shakes his head in disgust.

“It’s genius,” you say, and the man slams his hand on the table.

“See? I told you! Jungkook keeps saying that I have a terrible sense of humor—”

“I’ll be in the back if you need me,” Jungkook grumbles.

“Hey, what do we say to customers?”

“Ah— It was nice to meet you!” he says, turning around to look at you and he seems somewhat sincere. “I hope we’ll be seeing you again.”

Then he bows his head politely and disappears in the back of the shop. The other man — who you suppose is the owner of the place — watches, laughing fondly, but goes quiet after that, so you go back to your work.

You don’t stay around too long, not wanting to overstay your welcome, but you’re still the only one in the shop by the time you decide to walk out.

“Was the tea any good?” the man asks as you walk by him.

You nod and smile.

“And the chocolates were delicious,” you add. “I’ll make sure to come back.”

“That’s music to my ears,” he says, dramatically putting a hand on his chest. That’s when you notice the ‘Seokjin’ tag on his apron. You don’t know what to do with that information, though. You don’t call strangers by their first name and you also don’t stalk people on line.

Especially not when you don’t have their last name.

You say a quick ‘goodbye’, then walk out. Jin’s eyes follow you for a few seconds, before he sighs and turns around, already taking off his apron.

“Jungkook!”

The boy is quick to appear again, scanning the shop for your presence.

“She’s gone?” he asks, and Jin gives a slap at the back of his employee's head with a groan. There’s no strength in it, though, and Jungkook barely reacts to it.

“How could you run away like that, you little—”

Jungkook easily avoids him when Jin tries to him it again, laughing at his outrage.

“We’re not going to be getting a lot more clients today, are we?” he asks, looking outside at the passers-by that don’t even spare a glance at the little shop.

“No,” Jin groans, letting himself fall on a chair.

The depressing calm that follows what is possibly the busiest day of the year for him is just one of the reasons why he absolutely despises Valentine’s Day.

February 22nd

When you show up at the bakery again, about a week later, you’re feeling surprisingly good about it. Last time went well, you decided, and the people were nice, so you’re not afraid to throw a quiet but polite “Hello!” when you walk in. It’s kind of funny — or is it sad — how it always surprises you when people are nice to you, much more used to passive disinterest at best.

There’s another man in the shop this time, with a laptop and a coffee in front of him, but he doesn’t look up at you. A head lifts up from behind the counter though. You feel vaguely embarrassed that you remember this one is Seokjin, and you only feel more awkward when he gives you a dazzling smile.

A glance at the display tells you that they have restocked on their strawberry-based pastries, and you happily pick a slice of cake for yourself.

“For here or to go?”

“I’ll have it here,” you say with a smile. You feel strangely proud of yourself for being able to say it spontaneously. He has no way of knowing it, but it’s quite the victory for you. Usually, you try to run from the presence of others as fast as you can, and it’s even worse those days. “And I’ll also have Darjeeling tea with it, please.”

“Coming right up, just take a seat and I’ll bring it to you,” he says, and then he winks. He doesn’t stick around to see the surprised look on your face, so you just do as he told you, wondering if he was flirting with you or if he’s just Like That. You think that second explanation might be the answer.

“It’s nice to see you again,” he says when he arrives with the cake and the tea. You’re pretty sure he can’t place you exactly, just thinks your face is familiar, but it still makes you happy.

He tells you he hopes you’ll come back when you leave, and you decide you want to believe it.

June 1st

You’re not sure when you become an official ‘regular’ at the bakery. Maybe it’s when you ask Jin if they even do scones, and he leans over the counter to tell you conspiratorially that he actually wanted to call the shop ‘bake it ’til you make it’, but was told it was too long. That elicits a brief burst of laughter from you, and Jungkook tells you to stop encouraging him, but Seokjin looks so happy with himself when you laugh that you decide not to listen to him. Jin has that way of breaking past your shyness that fascinates you. It might be what keeps you coming back, more than the delicious sweets and how beautiful the two workers look.

Or maybe it’s when Jin tells you that it’s not fair you know their names but they don’t know yours, and that he’d ask you for your ID before selling you stuff if you don't tell him. When you tell him, he repeats it a couple of times, like he’s tasting it, before nodding with satisfaction. After that, him and Jungkook start greeting you with it, and insist you do the same with them. You’re reluctant at first, feeling somewhat confused about the whole thing, but it turns out to feel… nice, to have people to greet, and who also know your name.

Maybe it’s when Jin tells you that you’re late when you come in, or complains when you don’t show up on one of your usual days because you had a meeting with your boss. He doesn’t say anything on the day where you take your pastries to go because you’re visiting a friend at the hospital, though, and you wonder if he can just tell. Regardless, you appreciate it.

You find out about other people who come here frequently, too, and especially the ones who are friends with Jin and Jungkook. Namjoon, who sits with his laptop at the opposite end of the café from you. Yoongi, who usually sits in the same spot as you, and eyes you threateningly when he comes in and you’re there the first time, until Seokjin tells him to knock it off. Taehyung and Jimin, who always come in together, and who Jungkook usually joins to bicker and laugh with them. Hoseok, who likes to waltz in at random times, and whose smile actually rivals Jin’s.

You yourself come in twice a week, getting to your usual place to work — except on the couple of occasions where Yoongi gets there before you and gives you a triumphant smile when he sees you. You enjoy the way you’re always greeted by Jungkook or Seokjin, like they’re genuinely happy to see you. You discover that the old ladies who come here to gossip love to flirt with Jin and that, even though he flirts back outrageously, much to their delight, his ears tend to turn a bright red when he does.

You even bring your friends on a couple of occasion, and Seokjin jokes that you’re responsible for half of his turnover at this point. Your friends enjoy the food, and the drinks, but they enjoy the handsome employees and customers a lot more.

“So this is where all the hot men were,” Hana marvels when you walk out, and you burst out laughing. You like that you’ve shared this place with her, because it’s something that makes you really happy these days, motivates you to come out of your bed, and even to talk to people, something you’ve never been good at.

When you walk into the shop and make small talk with the people you’ve come to know, something you used to consider yourself terrible at, it might be silly, but it kind of feels like home.

June 21st

You are pretty sure you know when you go from regular to friend, though. It’s a day like any other and you hum on your way to the shop. Instead of the joyful “Welcome back, (Y/N)!” that you’ve gotten used to hearing these past few weeks, however, you’re greeted with Seokjin shouting “(Y/N), my savior!”.

You freeze on the spot and give him a worried look. From his table, Namjoon looks up, just as puzzled.

“Is everything okay, Jin?” he asks.

“Jungkook isn’t there today,” Jin tells you. His voice doesn’t sound different from usual, but there is a glint of panic in his eyes. “I need your help.”

Namjoon stands up.

“Why didn’t you ask me? I could—”

“Stay where you are and don’t even think of approaching my kitchen,” Jin says threateningly. “(Y/N)? Please?”

Well. You suppose your work can get done later. You’re more productive when you come here, so you have some advance on your usual deadlines these days. But you don’t know what Jin wants from you and you’ve never worked in a bakery.

“What do you want me to do?” you ask cautiously.

He grabs your shoulders and your eyes widen at the contact. Not that it’s unpleasant, just unexpected.

“I knew when you first walked in here that you were a godsend,” he tells you seriously, looking right into your eyes, and you tell yourself that if he’s that good of an actor, you should probably watch out. “We’re out of milk.”

You blink.

“Okay. Is there a specific type of milk you want?”

“Just, milk. Get me milk and I’ll worship the ground you walk on until the end of days.”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics, and take your bag off your shoulder, handing it to him.

“Look after that, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll protect it with my life,” he says solemnly. “Also paper napkins please!” he shouts as you’re already walking out.

“Will do!”

“Bake a leg!”

You want to protest the joke that even you find to be quite bad, but the door has already closed behind you, so you just shake your head at him, only to see him laughing with satisfaction through the glass, and head to the nearest supermarket.

You come back with two big packs of milk and a lot of paper napkins, just as two men are exiting. You’ve seen them before, but they never stay to chat. Inside, Jin is juggling three women, and he looks more relieved than you’ve ever seen him when you walk in.

“I’ll help you with that,” Namjoon says immediately, bumping in the table as he gets up.

“If you break anything, I’ll kill you,” Jin warns him. He’s smiling like he’s joking, and his tone is light, like he doesn’t want to scare off his customers, but his eyes say he’s sincere.

You’re quick in the back, and Namjoon does drop the packs once, but nothing bad happens. He presses a finger against his lips to tell you to keep it a secret, and you grin without a word. Part of you is kind of wondering what you’re doing there, why Jin feels comfortable letting you in the back and why he asked you to do that, but you don’t have an issue with it, not by a long shot. This is… kind of fun, actually.

“Anything else you want me to do?” you ask Jin when you come out, and he looks at you in a pleading way.

“You don’t mind?”

Something tells you you shouldn’t accept too quickly, that you could end up in way over your head faster than you know. But his brown eyes are wide and desperate and you just can’t say no. So you smile and shake your head.

“Of course not. You look like you really need a hand here.”

“I do.”

That’s how you find yourself in an apron, with the cute, black hat Jin and Jungkook always wear on your head. Jin mostly sends you in the back to pick up things he needs, or makes you bring the beverages to the customers, which you’re thankful for, because that way you don’t have to greet anyone. Time flies quickly, and you can barely find a second to breathe for the first few hours.

“Sorry, it’s lunch time,” Jin grimaces as he passes you by, and you think to yourself that at least, it will get better, but it takes a while even after that, and when it’s done, Jin sends you to buy some more stuff from the supermarket, because as it turns out, things go fast.

Before you know it, it’s closing time, and you look outside in disbelief. The sky is starting to turn a nice pink, and other shops are putting up their shutters.

“You can go, if you want,” Jin tells you. He sounds terribly sorry, and that makes you feel bad. It’s such an unusual tone for him to have.

His offer is tempting, of course. Your feet hurt, your head aches a little from all the noise that never bothered you before but turns out to be a lot when you’re there all day, you’ve burned your hand against an oven, and you’ve found out that carrying things ends up really hurting your back. But you know that he’s experiencing the same thing you do, and you just don’t have the heart to abandon him here. Also, you’ve already lost your day, so you might as well help him out now.

“It’s fine,” you sigh. “Do you want me to help with anything?”

Cleaning up goes quietly in the main shop, and that soothes you a little. You don’t mind the silence, even enjoy it, and find yourself relaxing for the first time today. Surprisingly, you’re feeling… satisfied. It’s not something you would particularly look forward to doing again, but you’re happy you did it, happy you helped Jin, and you feel like you’ve accomplished something today, which is always a good thing.

“You have flour everywhere,” he tells you bluntly when you walk in the back of the shop, and you laugh.

“Well, it got everywhere,” you reply, trying to rub some off your face, and it’s Jin’s turn to laugh when you fail miserably.

You know you shouldn’t do it, but you gather a small handful of flour from the table, and throw it at him. A good chunk hangs in the air and makes you cough, but the rest does land on his apron. His mouth falls open into an ‘o’ shape and you know you’ve messed up.

“Listen, I am so sorry—”

“No you’re not,” he says, taking a step towards you. His hand is on the table, which is covered with flour, and you swallow.

“Sure I am, Jin, please—”

But your pleas fall in deaf ears, and flour is soon flying your way. It’s your turn to stare at Jin in disbelief, and then you’re laughing, loud and clear.

Maybe that’s the exact moment when the two of you become friends — really friends.

Or maybe it’s seconds later, when the room you’re in turns into the scene for an all-out flour battle. Regardless, you’re laughing the whole way through, when you’re not choking on the flour hanging in the air. Jin’s laughter is quieter than yours, miles away from the booming and somewhat fake laugh you’re used to hearing from him.

The fight only escalates when Jin picks up an egg. You shake your head, mouth ‘no’, but he doesn’t listen, and after that, things get a lot messier. By the time the two of you, exhausted and bent in half because of how much you’ve been laughing, finally stop, you can feel yoke trickling down your back, and you know the sight can’t be pretty. Jin reaches out to you in a useless attempt to wipe some flour from your face, only to laugh more when it, of course, fails once more.

You try not to think about the jolt of electricity that ran through you when his fingers came in contact with your cheek.

“I’ll clean up in here,” he tells you, “but you should go take a shower upstairs.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, surprised. Suddenly, you’re very conscious of the fact that you don’t know him that well. In recent months, you’ve talked to him more than you do with your close friends, and you did just throw several eggs at him, but you don’t know him. You’re aware of the fact that he lives above the shop, but you’ve never been there. The two of you have never even exchanged numbers.

He makes dramatic hand gestures to signal you to get away, like you’re bothering him, and you leave with a last laugh. You don’t notice the way he looks up when you do, or the way it makes him smile. He can’t help it, he just loves that he makes you laugh.

You’re relieved to step into the shower, both because you’re happy to clean up and because there was something really awkward about being in Seokjin’s apartment for the first time, alone. The place was not quite as decorated as the bakery was, with paler colors. Walking through it, you had noticed big speakers, some books in a shelf, and a couple of cute plushes that you had had to resist not to fawn over. The place worked for him, you had decided. It was more understated than you would have expected when you had just started to know him, but it doesn’t surprise you anymore. Jin tends to be quiet when he doesn’t have to be ‘on’, and it’s something he doesn’t seem to feel he has to do around you anymore.

You sigh in pleasure when the hot water hits you, close your eyes. You’ve been craving it for hours now — long before the food battle with Jin. It helps relax your aching muscles, washes away all the sweat from the day, and you have to resist not to just let yourself fall down onto the floor. Your back hurts, but the worst part has to be your feet. You feel yourself gaining a lot more appreciation for Jin and Jungkook, who are always kind, smiling and polite despite all of this. The only thing that kept you from biting someone’s head off tonight was your crippling anxiety when it comes to interacting with strangers.

It’s almost funny now to think you used to feel that way around Jin.

You look around for some soap you could use, and in your search, you’re surprised to find shampoo that was definitely intended for a woman. You don’t know why you’re surprised. It’s no wonder that Jin would have a girlfriend, really, it’s the opposite that should shock you, but you still didn’t expect it. You force away the pinch in your chest. Jin is a new friend, you can’t have your heart fluttering like that.

You consider using it for half a second, before deciding that it would be very awkward if you came out smelling like his girlfriend. Instead, you do your best to get rid of any egg, and tell yourself you’ll wash your hair at home. You barely hear the sound of the door opening and closing over the water, and you’re startled by Jin’s voice outside the bathroom.

“You can take a towel from the chest of drawers,” he tells you, “and I’ll leave a shirt outside, if you want it.”

“Thank you!” you shout back.

Seokjin stands there a few seconds, before quickly shaking his head and walking away. He knows his ears are turning red, and he hates himself for it, but is it his fault, really? Is he supposed not to think about you, right now, in his shower, water running down your body? He never even thought to pretend he was that innocent.

He occupies himself by preparing a drink for the two of you, and then by cleaning around. He’s not particularly messy, though, and there isn’t much to do, so he ends up sitting on his couch, feeling awkward in his own house, and scrolling aimlessly through his phone. He freezes again when he hears the bathroom door open and close, guessing you’re picking up his shirt. Which means you’re— God what is wrong with him tonight? When did he regress to the state of a hormonal teenager?

He hopes he looks natural when you come out, because he’s doing his best for that. The nervous way he’s running his hands over his thighs would probably give him out, though, if you weren’t feeling just as stressed as him.

“I’m done,” you mumble, your shyness coming back, which you decide is to be expected in that situation.

It vanishes the second Jin looks you over and snorts.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, glancing down, and immediately you know that you’re probably ridiculous in his black shirt. It looks like it’s swallowing you whole. “It’s not my fault if your shoulders are that broad,” you pout.

“You look so small,” Jin chuckles. He sounds endeared, and if you noticed that sort of things, you would absolutely realize that his eyes linger on you in his clothes fondly — and a little longer than necessary.

“Want something to drink?” he asks, gesturing at the stuff he got out of the fridge when he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Sure,” you smile, letting yourself fall down on the couch next to him and pouring yourself a glass. The brief awkwardness that washed over you when you came in vanishes already, because of how comfortable you feel around Jin. He’s always been good at making you feel that way, and now he doesn’t even have to try.

“So, how did you find your day?” he asks you, and you look at him, surprised by his tone. He sounds quiet, cautious almost, like he’s worried about what your reaction might be, or that he could be bothering you.

“Fine,” you say with a shrug. “I can’t say I’d want to do it again— When is Jungkook coming back?”

Jin chuckles, and again, it takes you by surprise. It’s so… quiet. So discreet, compared to his usual attitude.

“He should be there tomorrow, don’t worry about it.” Then, he grimaces. “But seriously, thank you for helping out today. I owe you.”

“Yes you do,” you say with a grin, bumping your shoulder against his, trying to lift the mood a little, because he sounds genuinely worried. “Just offer me the tea next time, and I’ll consider us even.”

Finally, a smile forms on his lips, and he shakes his head dramatically, putting his hand over his heart.

“No, I don't think I could ever repay you,” he says, and you laugh at his antics, like you always do. He looks a little appeased by that, and that’s a relief. “Your back must hurt,” he says. “Turn around.”

You raise an eyebrow, but do as he says, startling when his hands fall on your shoulders. They’re large, engulfing you easily, but they also move gently as he slowly massages you.

“Oh,” you gasp, leaning back into him. This is— good. This is very very good. For a few minutes — or maybe much longer, you couldn’t tell — you just stay there, eyes closed, lips parted, focused on the delicious feelings of his hands gently rubbing all the pain and soreness of the day away. When he stops, it takes you a few seconds to come back down to reality, and maybe, just maybe you miss the feeling of his hands. “Oh,” you repeat, rolling your shoulders slowly. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Jin says. “It’s kind of my fault.”

You turn around, shaking your head.

“Seokjin,” you say. “It’s fine. I didn’t mind helping.”

“You’re too kind,” he frowns. “You shouldn’t let people take advantage of that.”

“I’m not!”

Then Jin smiles, in a way that only lifts one corner of his lips, and suddenly you feel— you’re not too sure. Something seems to melt inside you, something moves in your stomach like you’re free falling. You probably should recognize the feeling. It’s not like it’s anything new to you, and yet you miss it. You do something you almost never do in that situation, and you take a step back. You glance up from his lips, shoot him a smile, and get up from the couch.

“It’s getting late,” you comment. “I really need to go home.”

Jin is on his feet immediately.

“I’ll walk you back,” he says, concern flashing in his eyes.

“I’m good. It’s not that far and I need to clear my head after, you know, everything today.” You’re not sure you know, but Jin nods, though a little reluctantly.

“You’re sure?”

“Very.”

He sighs. He doesn’t seem too pleased about it, but you guess he doesn’t want to insist too much, either.

“Give me your phone,” he says, and when you hand it to him, he types his number in, pouting as he explains himself to you. “Text me when you get home, alright? Otherwise I’ll just worry all night, because everyone is so unreasonable, and just wants me to lose sleep, and—”

You take your phone back from him with a laugh.

“I’ll text you,” you promise, briefly putting your hand over his. That feels— normal, you decide. It’s not like your hands have never brushed in the months since you’ve started frequenting the bakery. It just feels fine, and whatever there was before could just be a false alert. But then Jin looks into your eyes, and the feeling comes back.

“You better.”

You practically flee the bakery. You’re trying to make sense of the whole thing in your head, and it doesn’t go over great. You let Jin know you got home safe, and then do your best to push the whole thing out of your mind when you go to bed. You refuse to think about it too much. Not because you don’t understand what’s going on, but because somewhere, deep down, you do. This isn’t— this isn’t something you do. You fall hard and fast, that’s— that’s your thing.

Sometimes it’s nice, others it’s disappointing, but most importantly, it means that when the relationship is over, your life just goes back to what it was before. It you ever had feelings for a friend, someone you’re so used to having around… You’re sure it would truly break your heart.

July 15th

Summer is horribly hot this year. Fortunately for you, your favorite bakery has started serving ice cream. There is air conditioning in the store, but with the door constantly opening and closing, gusts of hot air regularly reach even you. No one seems too happy with the situation, with Jungkook seeming to slowly come apart under the temperature. Even Namjoon has abandoned ship, leaving much earlier than usual today. He waved at you when he got out, and you waved back.

Who knew, maybe the two of you would actually talk next time.

Jin uses a lull in the otherwise busy afternoon to drop at your table, and you smile to him. You haven’t really gone through anything like that night ever since, and you decided it was just a one time thing. You were tired from the work, and you were touch-starved, and, surely, there was nothing there, other than you gaining a new friend.

Yup. Nothing to see at all. Even when he’s sitting next to you, trying to fan himself with one of the bakery’s menus, head thrown back in a way that makes his Adam’s apple even more prominent.

You never thought yourself as someone who particularly enjoyed necks, but it seems you were wrong.

Not that that has anything to do with feelings, of course. Jin’s just hot. You already knew that.

“Hey, (Y/N), what’s your favorite cake?” he asks you.

It takes you just a second too long to answer.

“Uh. Anything that has strawberries in it, I guess,” you say, and he nods, but he’s also frowning. “Are my tastes not up to par?” you grin, raising an eyebrow.

“Clearly, your tastes are great, since you keep coming back,” Jin answers immediately, with the confidence that you now know to be mostly facade, but that you’ve still come to love. “No, strawberries are good. I can work with strawberries.”

“I actually wanted strawberries the first time I came here,” you reminisce. “But there weren’t any left because that was after Valentine’s Day.”

Jin clicks his tongue in disgust.

“Worst day of the year,” he says, “though February is a bad month for strawberries in general.”

“You don’t like Valentine’s Day?” you ask, and if you were a dog, your ears would be perking up with interest. You’ve always loved to hear people’s opinion on the holiday, because it’s so divisive. “You guys must make quite a lot of money…”

“I’m wounded that you’d think money is all I care about,” Jin sighs dramatically, though the glint in his eyes lets you know that he’s only joking. “It’s just very busy,” he admits. “It’s a lot of work to prepare, people place a lot of orders, and we basically don’t get a minute to ourselves. Not to mention— do you know what it does to a person to know that the food he lovingly prepared is probably going to be eaten off someone’s body?”

You can’t help it. You burst out laughing. When you do, you’re completely unaware of the fond way Jin looks at you. He’s always liked that he made you laugh, from the very first day you came into the store.

“No,” you admit, “no, I haven’t thought about it.”

“Well I have to.”

“I’m so sorry for you.”

“I’m sorry for me too.”

Then Jimin practically waltzes in and energetically greets everyone in the room, including you, and Jin gets up to serve him and Taehyung because Jungkook looks like he’s about to collapse, and you don’t give much more thought to the conversation.

But Jin remembers that strawberry cake is your favorite.

September 18th

Somehow, you get roped into helping Jin with his grocery shopping. He sat at your table and complained about how Jungkook wouldn’t be able to help him that week, and you voiced your sympathy, and next thing you knew, you were in the supermarket with him.

Well, maybe you’d offered your help. Maybe you just didn’t want to admit it because of that time he’d told you you were too kind.

“You know, I thought I’d be helping you for the bakery,” you comment, “but this mostly looks like it’s for you.”

“I am the bakery,” Jin replies, and you grin.

You watch him as he carefully crosses item after item of his detailed list. You expected him to be messy, to grab whatever he wanted, but he is as meticulous with this as he is with the baking he does for his customers. Which is— strangely endearing to you.

“Most of what we get comes in bigger orders,” he explains to you once he’s done with that aisle. “Sometimes, we find ourselves missing some things…”

“Like milk.”

“It’s always the milk,” he sighs, shaking his head it brings back bad memories. “But that’s not an issue for a lot of thing, unless something very specific comes up. Like a customer wanting a pineapple pie.”

You tilt your head as he cautiously picks pineapples. You’re not even sure how you can tell if a pineapple is ripe, but he looks like he knows what he’s doing.

“That sounds… interesting?”

“It’s going to sound very interesting when I’ll make you carry half the bags,” Jin says, and you roll your eyes. Does he think you’re going to bail on him? You would never do that.

Well. Until your eyes fall on Minho, standing there, like he hasn’t simply vanished from your life six months ago. There’s a woman with him, and she’s laughing at something he said. You suppose she was the one he met — or maybe another one, there’s no way of knowing, really. But they look like they’re getting along well, and it— it makes you happy. You think.

“Huh,” you mumble. “That’s my ex over there.”

Jin looks up so fast you worry he might hurt his neck.

“What? Where? Do you need me to insult him?”

You’re about to say no when Minho turns around, and his eyes meet yours. He gives you a hesitant nod, and you think that’s going to be it, but then, after a few seconds of obvious inner debate, he makes his way towards you.

Great.

“(Y/N),” he says, a bit awkwardly. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” you reply softly and, much to your surprise, you mean it. You did your best not to let yourself miss him, but you suppose you did. It’s been a long time since you last saw him.

“This is, erm, this is Lisa,” he says, gesturing at the woman, who gives you a polite smile. It looks like she knows exactly who you are, and you suppose it must be uncomfortable for her as well. “My girlfriend.”

Yeah. You’d pieced that together. But then, Minho’s eyes move to Jin, and he raises an eyebrow, and you realize what he’s thinking about.

“Oh, this is—”

“Seokjin,” Jin says, extending his hand. “I’m her boyfriend.”

You’re sure that anyone looking at you can tell from your expression, from the way your mouth falls open and from the incredulous way you shake your head that that’s not true, but both Minho and Lisa are looking at him, and miss it completely. When Jin looks at you, he gives an imperceptible nod and puts an arm around your shoulders.

The warmth is— kind of nice. Maybe it even sends a shiver down your back, but you’re sure it’s because you’re still quite touch-starved those days.

Nothing else here.

“That’s great,” Minho says, and he looks relieved. “It’s great that you’re with someone.”

“Isn’t it?” Jin says before you can think of anything to answer to that. “She walked into my bakery and I just knew she would become my favorite client. Basically love at first sight.”

“Love at first sale, maybe,” you can’t help but answer, even if you know, reasonably, that you shouldn’t entertain him. You’re pretty sure he’s trying to show off in front of the two, which is really unnecessary, but you appreciate the gesture. “Jin makes the best cakes you can find in the whole town,” you tell them. Not to show off, but because it’s true. There are a lot of good things you could tell them about Jin, come to think of it. A lot.

“Maybe we should try it then,” Lisa says, smiling. She looks more relaxed than earlier, though you suppose she could also just be trying to get out of this conversation.

“Oh, it’s a must,” you reply sincerely, and Jin laughs, pulling you against his chest a little.

“She’s too nice,” he says, and you immediately protest that no, definitely not, he does, and you’re sure you look like a very annoying couple, because it doesn’t take long for Minho to clear his throat.

“Well, we have to go but it was— it was nice catching up with you.”

“Same,” you nod, and when he leaves, you can’t help but watch him. You don’t really feel anything right now. You were sincerely happy to see him, but it felt like running into a childhood friend you haven’t seen in a long, long time, and now have nothing in common with outside of those memories. Except it hasn’t been a life time since you last met him. Just a little over six months. Soon, he’ll just be someone you used to know.

You wish you were more upset by this. You wish there was anything that told you that what you had with him actually mattered. Instead, this vague indifference lets you know that your paths had probably diverged before the two of you even broke up. And that makes you kind of sad.

“Are you okay?” Jin asks. He has that quiet voice you’ve heard a few times now.

“I’m fine,” you nod, “but you really didn’t have to do that. I wasn’t— Minho and I aren’t— there really was no need.”

“I was happy to do it,” Jin says, and you notice how petty he sounds. “It’s always a joy to let an ex see how much better than them you’re doing.”

You laugh. You probably agree with him on that, but you’re not going to help feed his ego even more. Jungkook would probably never forgive you for it.

“I don’t think your girlfriend would like you doing that,” you observe, and Jin answers that remark with a blank stare.

“When have I ever said anything about a girlfriend?”

“Well, there was a bottle of shampoo at your place that—”

“So a guy can’t like having his hair smell like fruit, huh?”

“That’s not what I—”

“Wow, way to reinforce stereotypes, (Y/N). I expected more of you.”

He ignores your attempts at protesting and strides away from you. It takes you a few moments to catch up, because of his stupid long legs of his.

“If I had a girlfriend, I would never stop talking about her,” he lets you know while you’re catching your breath. “So don’t worry. You’ll know about it.”

“Duly noted,” you say. You maybe feel a little too happy about that new information so, to distract yourself from it, you change the subject. “So I’m your favorite customer?”

He scoffs and glances away from you, refusing to meet your eyes. He thought you hadn’t picked up on that.

“You’re a strong contestant, I guess,” he says reluctantly, and you laugh, not pushing it further.

“Anyway— Minho broke up with me a week Valentine’s Day,” you say. You’re not sure why. Maybe to let Jin that you’ve been over it for a long time.

“That’s rude,” Jin comments with a disapproving click of his tongue.

“He probably wanted to spend it with her,” you shrug. “When we got together, he told me he didn’t cheat. He left. So— I guess that was it.” Then there’s a laugh, and you can’t tell if it sounds bitter. You hope not. “I’ve actually never had a boyfriend for Valentine’s Day,” you confess.

The silence that follows is unusual for Jin. When you glance up at him, he’s just looking at you, and for a second, you think it’s pity you find in his eyes. But, from the way he frowns, you realize it could just be genuine sympathy.

“Would it make you feel better if I tell you it’s a terrible holiday that’s just there to sell things?”

“I already know that,” you chuckle, even if it does make you feel a little better. “I just want someone to buy me roses once, you know?”

Jin doesn’t answer, just looks at you, and something about the intensity of his stare makes you feel— feel things you told yourself you weren’t feeling for him. But then, you just ran into Minho, didn’t you? It makes sense that you would be all over the place emotionally.

“Anything more on your list?” you ask, and Jin blinks.

“Yeah, that way,” he says, sounding a bit off, but then he adds “More things for you to carry,” and you decide to brush it off.

But he stores the information in his mind. Strawberry cake and roses. Duly noted.

October 31st

“So do you actually like Halloween, or is this just another shameless cash grab for you?” you ask Jin when he brings you your tea.

You have to admit, him and Jungkook truly went all out for this. They’ve decorated the shop with pumpkins, and there are fake bats hanging from the ceiling. There are also themed cakes and chocolates shaped like spiders. It’s spooky, and it delights the kids that come in and ask the parents about it. You definitely appreciate the atmosphere it creates — and you also appreciate the way Hoseok jumped when he walked in front of the witch that lets out an evil laugh when someone passes the movement detector.

“Halloween is not terrible, I guess,” Jin says, like him and Jungkook don’t take a full day out of their schedules and bring in some friends just to decorate the shop. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” you answer sincerely, and Jin’s expression softens.

“Hey, we’re having a small get-together after closing tonight,” he tells you spontaneously. “Wanna join us?”

You take a second to answer. It’s not like you don’t want to — far from that — but there’s that voice inside of you that tells you that you’ve been weird around Jin, and you don’t want to be weird around him. You want to keep things as they are, because he’s such a wonderful friend to have around. You’d hate yourself if you changed that.

But if the point is to have him around, then surely, telling him no right now would be counter-productive, right?

“Absolutely,” you say with a smile, and Jin beams, and you feel all warmed-up inside.

You already know that you’ll have fun, and you’ll laugh, and he’ll insist on walking you him and you’ll tell him no. And it sounds exactly like how you want to spend your evening.

January 10th

You first meet Sungho on New Year’s Eve, at Hana’s party. The two of you click immediately, and you enjoy the familiar rush of feelings, the waiting for a text after you’ve given him your number, the anticipation of knowing where this is all leading, if everything goes right. After a week, you run into him at the bakery, or, well, you’re sitting in your usual corner when he comes in. He doesn’t see you immediately, but when he looks in your direction after a little while, you happily wave him over.

“You don’t usually come here, do you?” you ask him. “I would have seen you by now if you were a regular.”

He chuckles, flashes you a bright smile, and you smile in return. Sungho has a nice smile. He doesn’t laugh easily, though, from what you saw when you met him, which is a shame, but definitely not a dealbreaker, even if you love to hear people laugh.

“No, I saw you were talking about this place a lot online, and I figured I would come and check it out. Of course, seeing you here is the best part,” he adds with a wink, and he leans towards you a little. The obvious flirtation sends a wave of heat through your chest, and you don’t hesitate to lean forward as well, resting your elbow on the table and putting your chin on your hand. You enjoy the closeness, the proximity, the chase.

You pull away when Jin arrives with Sungho’s order.

“This looks great,” Sungho comments. “I’m glad (Y/N) advertised you so much.”

“Well, there’s a reason she’s our favorite customer,” Jin replies, smiling, and when you meet his eyes, they’re fond and— and something else that makes it hard to breathe for a second.

But the smile fades when Sungho takes a portion of his cake with the spoon and offers it to you.

“Wanna try it?” he asks, and you do, because you know everything Jin makes will be amazing. You’re not sure you love the gesture itself — it’s kind of cute, but you’ve also just met him and it feels a bit strange — but you still giggle and take the bite.

And all Jin can do is stand there, looking at the two of you. He feels something he has felt before, and it’s that he let something he wanted pass him by. He waited too long to make a move, once again, and once again, it’s cost him something he doesn’t know how he’ll live without, and now he’ll have no choice but to figure it out.

You glance up, and he catches himself, plastering a smile on his lips.

“Enjoy yourselves!” he says, a little too loudly, and he knows, from the way you blink and the puzzled look you give him, that you’ve noticed and it’s— it’s horrible. It’s horrible that you know him that well and that you’ve seen so many facets of him and you’ve chosen someone else. You don’t ask anything, though, and he’s quick to leave.

He’s also quick to ask Jungkook to replace him in the shop, and he, very deliberately, doesn’t ask anything about how things went. Doesn’t want to know if you kissed, or worse, if you left together.

He’ll be fine. It’s not like it’s anything he hasn’t been through before.

February 5th

You feel impossibly excited when Sungho asks you out for Valentine’s Day. You gush about it to your friends, a lot, and Hana is delighted for you — and very pleased that her circles of friends are meeting like that. Jungkook sounds happy, too, though slightly more reserved, but you get the type of enthusiasm you wanted from Jimin and Taehyung.

Jin gets quiet when you let him know, though. It’s not something you haven’t seen before, but it does take you off guard, because you’ve never seen it happen while in the shop, where he’s usually on top of his game.

“Are you okay?” you ask, worried, leaning over the counter to put a hand on his arm. “You look a little under the weather these days.”

He smiles, but it lacks his usual flamboyance.

“Valentine’s Day is coming,” he tells you. “The worst day of the year.”

You laugh at that, relax, and take your hand off. You miss the way his eyes fall on the place you were just touching.

“Well, not this year, hopefully. Not this year.”

Yeah. He’s not so sure about that.

February 14th

It’s your first time, ever, having a date on Valentine’s Day, and you’re determined to do everything right. Sungho is taking you to a fancy restaurant, so you decide there is no issue in going all out. You take the day to prepare yourself, enlist Hana to do your make-up and hair, and you use the opportunity to wear a lovely bright red dress that you had been saving for a special occasion.

Hana whistles when you come out of your room after you’ve also put on half-transparent black tights.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” she says with an appreciative nod.

You glance down at your body self-consciously and try to smooth the fabric of the dress. You do think it looks pretty good, but you could be wrong. Does it show too much of your legs? Does it hug your curves too tightly?

“You think he’s going to like it?” you ask, somewhat shyly.

“He should if he knows what’s good for him,” she replies, expression turning murderous, before softening. “Just… Are you sure you want to be doing that?”

You give her a confused look.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know, going out with Sungho,” she says with a vague hand gesture. “I just— I don’t know. Do you like him that much?”

It’s funny. You haven’t really asked yourself that question. You’ve just been going through all the usual motions — the flirting, the dates, and, inevitably, the start of the relationship, which is probably for tonight.

“We— we get along fine,” you answer. “I like him.”

You leave the words ‘well enough’ out of that sentence. You like Sungho well enough. But then, that’s always been good enough for you, so why should it change now?

Hana seems to think about it for a little while, then shrugs.

“Okay then. Do you need my help to walk to the cab? I would not trust these things.”

She’s pointing at your heels, and it makes you laugh. These aren’t even that high, and they’re pretty stable. You don’t think you’ll have any trouble walking in them. Hana wouldn’t abandon her flat shoes to save her life, though, so you suppose the question was to be expected.

“You can just tell me if you want to hold my arm,” you tease, and it seems to take her by surprise, before she chuckles.

“You’ve gotten a little too good at that. I don’t know if I like it.”

“Yeah, I’m afraid Jin has infected me.”

That gives her pause, and she shoots you a weird look, but you miss it. She opens her mouth to say something, then gives up. She could be wrong, after all.

She kind of hopes she’s wrong, or that if she’s right, you’ll realize it soon enough.

The dinner is perfect. You’re dressed perfectly for the occasion, fitting right in the restaurant’s decor, Sungho complimented you when you walked in and you told him he looked great, which is true, the food is delicious, the conversation flows easily, and there are roses on the table. They’re not for you, part of the decoration, and it doesn’t look like Sungho’s gotten you any, which gives you just a little pinch of disappointment in your chest, but it’s also not a big deal. It’s fine. Everything is fine.

And you’re not happy with it.

You can’t place it, and it slowly drives you insane, as you and Sungho make your way through the meal. You try your best not to let it show, but you think he notices your increasing restlessness. You feel bad about it, because really, he hasn’t done anything wrong. You just— something’s not right.

Dammit. It’s your first time having a date on Valentine’s Day, and you can’t make it work.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Sungho says while the two of you are waiting for your desert, and you do your best to snap out of whatever is going on in your head to focus on him.

“Tell me,” you smile, though the smile is polite, rather than genuine.

He takes a deep breath and reaches over the table to take your hand. It’s far from the first time the two of you make physical contact, you’ve even kissed a few times, and it was nice, but something makes you want to recoil, in that moment. You don’t, though. Why would you? It doesn’t make sense. Nothing about you makes sense right now.

“I like you,” he says, and you find the breath knocked out of you. It’s not unpleasant, though, it’s very nice in fact, and it almost completely dissipates your previous discomfort. “And I think— you know. We haven’t said anything about being exclusive yet, so I figured I’d— ask.”

He looks pretty confident, which you thought would put you off, but it doesn’t. The answer seems obvious to you. It’s been just a little over a year since you broke up with Minho, which is a reasonable time, so your lips part to let him know that you’d be happy to—

It’s then that you remember. You remember what you told yourself after that break-up, and what you thought after the break-up before that, and the time before as well. You remember you told yourself you wouldn’t settle for less than what you really wanted. You told yourself you wanted to love and be loved. You told yourself you wanted someone who’d remember how you liked your tea.

And, just like in a movie, Jin’s face appears in your mind. You almost dismiss it, tell yourself it’s just because of the tea, until you realize it’s not. It just isn’t. You should have noticed earlier, you know that, but you’ve never been friends with someone before developing feelings for them. You’ve always told yourself you were an ‘all or nothing’ kind of person, that you were the type to know immediately if things could happen. Maybe you didn’t quite believe in love at first sight, but you’d always thought that love didn’t wait.

Apparently you were wrong.

Jin’s the one who inadvertently makes you pulse rush, when his hand brushes against you. Jin’s the one who lifts your spirits, no matter what. Jin makes you happy, makes you want to get up in the morning, has done that for months now. Jin actually knows you. Jin looks at you like you’re precious to him. Maybe that doesn’t mean love, maybe to him, it’s all just friendship, but to you, it’s much more than that. And the feeling you get is so strong, so powerful, that you understand that you need to tell him. Need to tell him now.

“I’m sorry,” you say to Sungho, who’s been waiting for an answer all this time. “I’m really sorry, I don’t think that can work out.”

His face falls, but he looks far from heartbroken.

“Oh,” he says. “Um. That’s—”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, already getting up from your chair. You’re buzzing with excitement, with feelings. “I have to go. I’ll pay for the meal, okay?”

“No, don’t—”

“Sorry!”

You stop at the counter briefly before rushing out into the night. You feel that you know exactly where you need to be.

You get to the bakery minutes before closing time, which is exceptionally at 9 p.m. for the day. A couple is just coming out, and that leaves only Jungkook inside. There’s nothing left on display, and you know it’s been impossibly busy, which means Jin is probably in a bad mood, but you can’t wait until tomorrow. When you walk in, Jungkook looks up from behind the counter, clearly surprised by the sound of someone coming in that late, and a puzzled look settles on his face when he notices that you’re out of breath, your previously perfect make-up now looking a little worse for wear.

“Is everything alright?” he asks. He sounds worried, and any other day you would take the time to reassure him, but in that moment you’re pushed by an energy that can’t be stopped, so you just nod quickly as an answer.

“Is Jin here?”

“In the back,” he says, tilting his head in that direction, and you’re pretty sure a glint of understanding lights up in his eyes.

“Can I….?”

He nods, a grin on his lips, and now you’re sure he knows why you’re here. You don’t wait for him to tease you about it, quick to make your way past him.

You freeze the second you walk into the backroom, though. It’s not just because of Jin’s back, though that definitely has more of an effect on you than you’d like to admit — the broad shoulders, the muscular back, and inexplicably, the nape of his neck. It’s also because of the large bouquet of red roses, standing in a vase on the table next to him. Your breath catches in your throat as you look at them. They look beautiful, vibrant, their fragrance floating through the room, all the way to you.

“Who are the roses for?” you ask, making Jin jump.

Any other time, you would have been pleased to take him by surprise for once, but right now you’re hanging on his words, waiting for an answer. The air feels heavy between you, and it doesn’t help that he doesn’t answer immediately, swallowing silently as his eyes travel over your body. You had almost forgotten about the dress you were wearing, and, instead of making you feel comfortable and confident, like it had earlier, you feel naked and vulnerable under his gaze.

Finally, his eyes meet yours, mouth slightly open, and by that point your heart is hammering in your chest. You wonder if he has any idea of how you’re feeling right now. Had he noticed your feelings when even you weren’t aware of them?

“What?” he croaks, voice dry, like he’s forgotten what you said.

“The roses,” you repeat. “Who are they for?”

You need an answer. Desperately.

Jin’s eyes move to the roses, and his face falls. He turns his back to you again as he goes back to whatever he’s cleaning.

“Didn’t you have a date tonight?”

You shrug, though he can’t see it.

“I broke things off with him,” you say lightly, and you don’t miss the way his movements pause, or the way his shoulders tighten, for half a second, before he keeps moving. “Are you— are you meeting someone?”

“No,” he protests immediately. “You know I don’t believe in Valentine’s day.”

You do. You remember that. So you wait for an explanation. It takes a while, and you just wait silently behind him, suspecting that he’s waiting for you to go away. After a few minutes, though, he slams his hand on the table, still not looking at you.

“They’re for you, okay? You said you’d always wanted roses for Valentine’s Day, and I figured, maybe your stupid boyfriend didn’t know that yet, and that I could maybe just drop them off at your place, and—”

“You didn’t ask me why I broke up with him,” you interrupt him, cutting his rambling short, and he falls silent. You catch his eyes from over his shoulder. Finally, you’re feeling yourself calm down, and at the same time you’re practically shaking with anticipation. “I realized I had feelings for someone else,” you say when he still doesn’t ask, just watching you, lips tight.

“…You do?” he simply says in reply. He’s tense, guarded, and you take a careful step towards him.

“Yeah,” you nod. Your eyes aren’t leaving his, not even for a second. “He’s smart, and kind, and handsome.” You take a step for each description you give, and you can’t help but smile on the last word. But your smile doesn’t reach Jin’s lips, and he’s just looking at you like he’s expecting you to tell him someone else’s name, or to make fun of him. “And he makes me laugh,” you add quietly, as you get to him, leaning against the table. “A lot. Some have even said it was a little too much.”

“So who is he?” he asks, and you smile. It’s wild to you that you haven’t understood earlier how absolutely head over heels in love with him you are, especially right now, when you’re standing so close to him. It’s also wild that he can’t see it, because you feel as though you’re radiating with that emotion, feel that anyone should be able to tell.

“It’s you,” you breathe out. “It’s obviously you.”

Then you’re pushing yourself up against his mouth, soft and slow. One of his hands closes around your waist as he leans forward, towering over you. His eyes are shut, and you close your own, reveling in the feeling of his warm body pressed against your own. You feel his tongue darting out to brush against your lips, and they part to grant him access, eager to taste all of him and—

“Couldn’t you tell me that earlier?” Jin protests loudly, tearing himself away from you, and your eyes snap open. “I would have planned the best Valentine’s Day you’ve ever—”

You groan and cut him off with another kiss, faster and harder this time, grabbing his wrists to guide his hands to your hips. You moan in contentment into his mouth when he kisses you back and he swallows it eagerly, pressing you into the table, bodies meeting like they’ve been waiting for it for forever and you—

“I wanted to make you an amazing strawberry cake! Now I don’t have any strawberries left!”

“Jin, please,” you sigh, unable to tolerate any other interruption, “would you just shut up and kiss me?”

And, finally, he does. Holds you like he never wants to let you go, kisses you like there’s no tomorrow, and when the two of you part, he rests his forehead against yours like he can’t bear the thought of being away from you even for a second. The silent stretches, comfortable, only filled with your respirations, until someone clears their throat, and the two of you jump away from each other.

“Sorry,”Jungkook says with a shit-eating grin that tells you he’s not sorry at all, “but I was about to leave. Will the two of you be okay?”

“I’m sure we can work things out without you,” Jin says. “Goodbye!”

But Jungkook doesn’t leave right away, turning his smile to you. You would hide into Jin’s shoulder, but you feel so good you can’t be bothered right now.

“Goodbye (Y/N)!”

“Bye, Jungkook!”

“That kid, I swear,” Jin says, shaking his head, as Jungkook leaves, his laugh hanging in the air behind him for a few seconds.

“I quite like him,” you comment, fingers dancing down Jin’s neck to come trace the border of his shirt.

“Oh, you do?” There is a dangerous edge to his tone and you glance up, surprised.

“Are you jealous?” you ask. “I didn’t know you were the jealous type.”

“I’m not.”

“Because it’s not Jungkook I abandoned my date for.”

“Good that you did. I never liked him.”

“So you are jealous.”

Seokjin mumbles something incomprehensible and you laugh and hug him tighter. And when he asks you if you want to come upstairs, even if he doesn’t have the perfect Valentine’s Day dinner planned, even if really, all he has to offer is himself, you tell him yes, of course.

Because he’s all you want right now.

It turns out, you wouldn’t have eaten the dinner anyway. The second the door closes behind you, you’re pulling him down against you for a kiss, and he doesn’t oppose any resistance, doesn’t protest like he did before, just lets out a moan into your mouth. He’s just as eager as you are to get rid of that tight dress.

“Careful with the tights,” you warn when his hands start roaming your thighs.

“Take them off then,” he groans.

You press a few kisses against his mouth, feeling delighted with the way he restrains himself, hands turning into fists against your hips as he stops himself from tearing off your closes. Finally, you pull away with a giggle. His eyes are wide and dark with desire, and they only get wider when you playfully slide off your dress’ strap.

“Don’t tease,” he says, practically growls, but you decide that you will. You guide him to his couch, push him down onto it, and evade him when he tries to pull you down with him, slipping out of his grasp. You stand just out of his reach, but more than close enough to be tantalizing, and you see in his eyes that it’s working just fine.

You take the time of making a show out of sliding down your dress down your body, letting it pool down at your feet before stepping out of it. The heels are the next thing to go, and then, finally, the offending tights. The second you’re out of those, Seokjin pounces, grabbing your hips and pulling you onto the couch.

“If you want us to move this to the bedroom, now would be a good time to say it,” he says as he kisses your neck, hands traveling up and down your body, large and calloused, but kind and gentle.

“I’m good here,” you say, arching your back to grant him better access — and to roll your hips against him. “Are you good here?”

You feel his breath catching in his throat when you move, as well as something hard pressing against you in his pants, and his voice is slightly choked when he answers.

“Yeah. This would happen at some point anyway.”

You laugh. You can’t wait to try this in all the places the two of you can think of in his apartment.

“Then let’s get to it, shall we?”

Jin doesn’t seem to have anything to answer to that, especially not when you hook your leg around his, using your heel to push him down on top of you. He’s still dressed, but you plan on rectifying that. You stop kissing him to work on the buttons of his shirt, and he lets you, breathing heavily. Your fingers explore the skin you reveal in the process, and you’re delighted when he shivers as you find out where his sensitive spots are — right under his collarbone, his nipples, his ribs.

Finally, the shirt joins your dress on the floor. You take a second to marvel at his body. His shoulders are even nicer to look at like that, you decide. You capture Jin’s mouth again, this time with your hands fisting his hair. You’re feeling yourself growing more impatient, wetter, and while your panties are the only thing still covering your body, he’s still wearing pants — which is far too much clothing.

“I want you so bad,” you whisper to him, and his breath catches in his throat.

“Fuck. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

That makes you grin, and you arch your back into him again, pressing yourself against his now rock hard crotch.

“Oh, I think I do,” you reply devilishly, and all Jin does is to bury his head into your neck. His fast breathing tickles your skin, and you love it. You love discovering that you have that effect on him, love how you can make him come undone. Another night, you might really, really enjoy teasing him about it, but you have something else on your mind tonight.

Your hand travels down his body to palm him through his pants, and he groans, bucking his hips against it involuntarily.

“Let me take care of that?” you offer, and he pulls away to raise an eyebrow at you.

Wordlessly, you guide him so he’s sitting on the couch, and then, without breaking eye contact, you drop to your knees. You watch as his eyes go wide and he swallows loudly. You don’t give him time to regain his composure, gently nudging his legs apart so you can place yourself there comfortably.

“Fuck,” he repeats as your hands travel over his thighs before unbuckling his belt.

He lifts himself off the couch so you can slide down his pants and underwear, and that leaves him in his naked glory. And boy, is he glorious, dick standing erect and proud, precum already dripping from the tip. You suppose it’s been a while since the last time he had any sort of intercourse, and so you decide that you will do everything that’s in your power to make it worth his while.

You do your best to maintain eye contact with him while you lean forward to gently take in the head of his cock, wrapping your red lips around it as your hand grips the base.

“Ah,” he gasps, and you wonder if he gets loud during sex.

You hope he does.

You mostly tease him at first, running your tongue over the tip, and you feel his hand grabbing the back of your head gently. He doesn’t try to control your pace or to push you down. He seems to just be anchoring himself as he lets you do whatever you want. Glancing up, you see that he’s thrown his head back and his mouth is hanging open, letting out quiet moans that sometimes get high-pitched.

For some reason, the sight of his exposed throat turns you on impossibly. You slide a hand down your body to try to get some relief as well, and you moan loudly when your fingers finally find your clit. The vibrations have Jin push his hips up as his hands tighten on you. A second later, his eyes snap open.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s fine,” you reassure him, “I don’t mind but— Do you have a condom somewhere?”

He hesitates, then reaches for the coffee table. He opens the drawer, rummages through it quickly, and finds what he’s looking for.

“Taehyung said it was good to have them all over the house, just in case,” he feels obligated to explain to you, even while he struggles to open it and to put it on.

Well, you owe Taehyung one, you decide, but now really is not the time to discuss that, so you pull him down for quick kiss before he can lose himself in his ramble.

“Want you now,” you tell him, and it sounds like an order.

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbles, pulling you back up onto the couch.

Your panties are soon gone, and he spreads your legs open with utmost care. Even if you’re pretty sure he could just slide right in, with how wet you are, he pushes a long finger inside you, then another.

“You’re so wet for me,” he marvels. “So wet, and I haven’t even touched you.”

“Don’t flatter yourself too much yet,” you moan. “There’s still work to be done here.”

His eyes are full of love when he looks at you, taking in your body, now completely naked and offered. Just for him.

“Oh, I’ll do it. Don’t you worry about that.”

You’re about to call him out for his cockiness when he lines his cock with your entrance, tip rubbing against your folds, and you close your mouth instead, wisely choosing not to provoke him when he could so easily make you pay for it by making you wait. Except it seems he’s just as impatient as you, because he pushes himself inside you without pause.

You moan and shift to accommodate the stretch, and Seokjin goes still on top of you.

“Are you okay?” he asks. You’re satisfied with the strain in his voice, like knowing you’re not the only one to be so affected here.

“Hmm,” you hum. “Can you— move? A little?”

He pulls out a little, experimentally, and you moan louder than before. It takes you a few minutes to figure out the pace, as your hips keep moving, desperately searching for more friction, but they’re not unpleasant, filled with kisses, sweet nothings and the feeling of his warm skin against yours. In those moments, you feel like you’re discovering him all over again, and you find yourself enjoying that more than you can say.

Finally, you find yourselves, and the sound of skin against skin fills the room, along with your loud, high-pitches moans, and Seokjin’s — softer, quieter, but definitely there. You meet each of his thrusts, with one hand between the two of you to rub against your clit. When you first clench around him, he finally lets out a moan that’s as loud as yours.

“Fuck, fuck, fffuck,” he says, head falling against you, cheek pressed against your collarbone. “If you— If you do that again I’ll— Wait, please, wait, wanna— wanna cum with you—”

You arch your back, your nipples grazing against his chest, and force up the pace of your hips. Jin is moving incoherently, begging into your neck, and you want to give him exactly what he’s asking for. When you clench around him again, it’s with your orgasm. It’s all it takes to push him over the edge as well, but you barely feel his hips stutter into you, completely taken over by your own pleasure.

It takes you a little while to come back down from your high, and when you do, you meet his eyes. They’re soft and gentle, and, more than anything that’s happened until then, they make you melt.

“Hey,” he whispers, “you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, more than okay, in fact. You?”

“More than okay, too,” he says as a lazy smile spreads across his features.

“Good. That’s good.”

Pillow talk is not your forte.

“Hey,” Jin says, coming to rest his forehead against your shoulder.

“Hmm?”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

You chuckle.

“I think I’m in love with you too.”

“That’s good,” Jin says, but his voice sounds choked up, raspy, and you know he’s probably blushing. So you don’t add anything, just run your fingers over his scalp, the nape of his neck, down his back. Let him know you’re here, that you’ve got him, that you’re not going anywhere.

“Are you— are you staying the night?” he asks.

“Sure, unless you’re kicking me out.”

His arms tighten around you possessively.

“I would never.”

It takes a little longer before Jin manages to get the two of you off the couch to go get cleaned up, and then into bed, but of that night, there is not a second that you would call unnecessary or superfluous. Not one.

Every single one of them, every moment you spend with Jin on that first night, are essential, and you could not pick one of them to take back.

March 14th

The bell chimes happily when you walk into the shop, and even though Jin is busy with another customer, his eyes immediately find you. It’s something simple, yet it’s something you love about him. The way he always seems to find you, and the pleasant warmth that fills you without fail when you see him. You’ve been told that it was just the high of the first months of a relationship, not to get too used to it but you hope that, even if it dims, it won’t go away completely.

“Hey, Jin, your ears are turning really red. Why are your ears turning red?”

You laugh while your boyfriend turns to shoot a furious look at Yoongi. He’s sitting in your spot, in the back of the shop, and he’s looking smug. That comment of his has become a pretty common thing to hear whenever you walk in, or just when Jin and you are speaking. To be completely honest, you’re not too mad about it. Jin is good at acting like you have no effect on him, but the blush betrays him, and it’s been both cute and useful to see what actually gets to him, or bothers him sometimes.

“I’ll kick you out of my shop if you keep that up!” Jin shouts at him. “Don’t think I won’t!”

But Yoongi just chuckles into his mug, clearly not taking him seriously — and he’s probably right for that.

“So, do you know what today is?” Jin asks nonchalantly after he’s turned back to face you, gesturing for Jungkook take over with the other customer.

Your eyes widen in horror.

“Please don’t tell me you want us to celebrate our one month anniversary. I haven’t planned anything for that.”

Jin rolls his eyes.

“I would argue that our one-month anniversary is tomorrow, if we’re being precise, because that’s when we, um, really talked about it.”

He’s not wrong. It had been a pleasant thing, to wake up in his arms the morning after, to the sensation of his lips gently kissing your neck, and an even nicer thing to take your breakfast with him. You couldn’t pinpoint why exactly. It had just been what had absolutely and irrevocably sealed the deal for you. You knew it hadn’t been a mistake. You wanted to be with him.

“Hmm, but there is still some sort of anniversary to be celebrated tonight then,” you say, leaning over the counter. “I’m sure I could prepare something for that.”

His ears and neck flush, and Yoongi has the delicacy of not pointing it out this time.

“That’s not— That’s not what I’m talking about! Today is the white day.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“That’s when boys are supposed to give chocolates back to the girls they like,” Jin elaborates.

“But I didn’t give you chocolates,” you say.

“No, but you’re still the one who— Yoongi, I swear to God— You know. You’re the one who took the first step.”

Despite his recent outburst, it’s obvious that he feels embarrassed and vulnerable in that moment. You’d kind of gathered that he really regretted not asking you out before Sungho had, but you had never thought that it was actually an issue.

“I’m really happy I did,” you tell him quietly. He’s not fond of PDA, but you still allow your fingers to brush against his. That feels discreet enough.

“I know,” he says, and there’s so much love in his eyes when he looks at you that it’s a real miracle that you don’t melt into a puddle right then and there. “But I still—” He sighs. “You’re really ruining my plans. This was meant to go over smoothly.”

“Sorry,” you apologize with a wide grin while he picks something up from behind the counter.

“There,” he mumbles, handing you the box.

You open it, genuinely curious. You feel the eyes of everyone else in the shop — Yoongi, Namjoon, Jungkook and, of course, Jin — on you, and you want to tell most of them off, but you suppose that since this is where most of your relationship development happened, they’re kind of part of the story too.

The box is filled with chocolates shaped like roses.

“I know it’s not much,” Jin is quick to say, “but I just wanted to—”

“Jin?” you interrupt him.

“Y-yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you.”

His eyes go wide, and then he sighs, but he can’t force away the smile that’s forcefully making its way on his lips.

“Well, if you absolutely have to—”

But he doesn’t protest when you pull him over the counter to kiss him, hands gently closing over your shoulders. He even brings you back for a second, even briefer kiss, and there’s something fierce in his eyes then. He superbly ignores the cheers that come from your friends in the room.

“I have to warn you, you’re never getting rid of me now,” he says, and it’s light-hearted, but you know there’s a lot of truth behind those words.

“Good,” you simply reply. “I wouldn’t want that for the world.”

He looks like he wants to add something to that, but he chokes on the words, and he falls quiet instead. It’s just as good, really.

There are some things you don’t need words for.

Some things that can be expressed just as easily with a box full of rose-shaped chocolates.

#jin x reader #seokjin x reader #bts #bts imagine #kim seokjin x reader #jin imagine #seokjin imagine #jin fluff #seokjin fluff #bts fic #jin fanfic #seokjin fanfic #kim seokjin #jin smut #seokjin smut #candywrites

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lavenderwhore444 · 3 years

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Ok so we all love pervert shigaraki ( Ik u do so please don’t lie to ur self love 😀) anyways what if shigaraki had a huge crush on the reader and steals there panties ( when there out in a mission working there ass off) but the reader notices and placed cameras in her room just to see who’s stealing them surprise surprise it’s ya boy shiggy and the reader finds it kind of cute that he’s that desperate but is also upsetting because there working and he’s here getting off on her stuff so.the reader catch’s him in the act and shows him the videos ( shigaraki at this point is crying from embarrassment and he’s begging for the reader to delete the videos) as a punishment the reader pegs the shit out of him and the ending is fluff since I do love shiggy

First of all English isn’t my first language so apologizes for any mistakes and for the ending please work ur magic sis

💍🧎🏻‍♀️marry me this is so good

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If you want to use interactive fics, it's easy and makes reading fics SO much better. First, you download the Google Chrome extension. You'll see it in the top right corner of your screen. Next, you enter your name in the first box. If you want to change something other than y/n, please click on the text that says “want to change something other than y/n?” here, you can change any word you want to a different word. When I talk about your quirk I will use y/q

Warnings: smut (obvi) shigaraki is a perv degradation a little I think #peg shiggy 2021 fingering for Shig 😌 humiliation??? Idk what to put man request says it all

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🌸 I have an irl on here rn because we both simp for crusty men, and she’s probably lowkey scared of me. I was drunk on having social interaction for the first time forever and was like, “omg, I write for them. I have Tumblr 🤪” Listen, I told you I would do anything for him, and I fucking meant it, ok? And he’s a little pervert, so they're kinda gross (indirectly making me have gross kinks too ig ☹️) Plus, I warned you about his piss kink, that should've been a good indicator to the rest of these 🙄 , Anyways anon has sent me THE BEST SCENARIOS OMG. I have read a lot of Shigaraki fics, BUT THESE ARE SO ORIGINAL IM SO HAPPY. There's one, in particular, I'm excited to write because it's just so cute, omg. 🌸

It was the fifth time this week. You were out on another mission, and Tomura was half-naked in your room on the verge of passing out from how many times he had cum into various articles of your clothing. It started off as just your panties. Perverted but not insane. As time went on, it only got worse. The panties weren’t good enough. He started putting one of your shirts over his face as he got off, and that worked...for a while. His next fix was to steal some of your perfume, but it wasn't good enough.

He felt disgusting the first time he got off in your room. He felt like he'd crossed a line (not that he hadn’t already), but it was the best orgasm of his life. What's done is done, so he might as well take advantage of the rest of your room. He was pretty comfortable now, face pressed into your pillow, inhaling your scent as his body spasmed for the last time. He was utterly spent.

And now, for the worst part, being in your room surrounded by your stuff, smelling your perfume, but still being all alone. It wasn't like Shigaraki had a crush on you or anything. Him having a crush on y/n? Unheard of. The rest of the girls in the league were like family to him. You two just weren't there yet, even though it had been five months, and he blushes whenever you talk to him. So what if he wants to punch Dabi whenever he looks at you? He wasn't in love with you. God damn it, he was just horny. That was it. That was the extent of his feelings, and they would go away.

They didn't go away, but more of your stuff sure did. It was becoming more common for clothing in your room to go missing only to end up clean and folded in the proper drawer. It was weird, but someone was doing most of your laundry for you. It wasn't Dabi taking your stuff. He could get his dick wet whenever he wanted. The other guys preached “don’t lewd y/n” and tried to fight Dabi when he put his hand on your thigh. Toga would steal your shirts but definitely not your underwear. If she did steal your clothing, she’d post a mirror pic and tag you in it.

So that left your boss. Tomura Shigaraki. You thought he hated you. He got all quiet and distant when you talked to him. Was he nervous? He glared at you and Dabi. Or was it just Dabi? Maybe the little creep did like you. He was kinda cute. His messy hair looked so soft, his eyes lit up when he won his games, Shigaraki had this little smile when he was watching the league sit together, and he had discarded father almost completely. But he was a creep, and you definitely didn't have a crush on him. Definitely not.

But part of you didn't want to tell him to stop. It took a while to cook up a plan, but it was foolproof when you came up with one. You found stole the money to invest in some hidden cameras. By now, you were starting to accept that you might like him just a little. But in a sad puppy kind of way. You didn't actually have a crush on him. Nope, not at all.

And it was kind of mean that he was making you do all this work while he got to jerk off in your bed. You'd come back with cuts, scrapes, bruises, and even a broken bone one time, just for him to totally ignore you. He had spent all day ruining your clothes and wouldn't even look at you.

Your behavior had changed towards Tomura, though, and he had definitely noticed. You were acting the same way he was. You were always blushing when you talked to him. You sat next to him while he played games, but it's "just because you're bored." Maybe you were starting to like him back. He had come to terms with his not-so-little crush on you. This didn't stop him from acting like a perv but still.

The cameras had been up for a while, and honestly, watching those videos back was way better than watching porn. Shigaraki looked so sweet and desperate. The way he laid in your bed afterward, holding your pillow, made your heartache for him. He just looked so lonely. You decided it was time to confront him.

"I'm going out for a couple days, guys!" you called, walking out with a backpack on your shoulder.

"I'll miss you, dollface," Dabi called back, blowing a kiss as you laughed at him.

The glare Shigaraki gave him could have dusted him right then and there. You stayed at a cheap motel for a while, watching the cameras. It was pretty nice to finally have some quiet. It didn't take long for Shigaraki to wander into your room with a raging hard-on. You took your time getting home, knowing he'd be there for at least a few hours. You glanced at your phone once in a while, catching two of Shigaraki’s orgasms. You’d hear a strangled cry and see his mouth wide open, eyes squeezed shut, and back arching. He’d coat his chest and your underwear in hot cum. You started to walk faster. Most of the league was asleep as you used your levitation quirk to float silently up the stairs. You opened the door.

“Who knew you were such a perv, Shiggy. All this time, I thought you hated me, but it looks like someone has a little crush on me, ” you said sweetly.

He looked like a deer in headlights, eyes wide as his body froze. A soft whimper left him as his face turned an angry shade of red that matched the head of his cock.

“N-no please, I'm sorry y/n I-i just didn't um ill leave. I'm so sorry, ” he muttered.

He got up, but you pushed him back on the bed.

“Not yet, Shiggy. I have something to show you, ” you said in a singsong voice.

You sat next to him, slinging your left arm around his shoulders. You pulled up the live feed.

“Aww, look at how cute we look right now, Shig, ” you teased.

His face told you that he was terrified.

“Y-you didn’t, ” he tried to fool himself.

“Oh, I did, ” you whispered in his ear.

You heard him sniffle. You slid the bar at the bottom of the screen back to show him what he was doing mere minutes ago.

“No, you can't, ” he choked as tears fell from his eyes, “please don’t show anyone y/n. Please I c-cant. I'm sorry, just don’t show anyone, ” he sobbed, “please don't. I’ll never talk to you again if you want I’ll do anything just don't show anyone, ” he cried.

“Anything?” you questioned.

“Anything, ” he nodded, still crying.

“Well, first of all, ” you said, “you can start by taking me out on a date, ”

He nearly choked as his eyes widened.

“What?” he whispered, wiping his eyes and nose.

“I said that you’re going to take me out on a date, and please use a tissue, ” you said.

He nodded and cleaned up his face the rest of the way.

“And second, you can take off your shirt and bend over the bed with your legs spread, ” you whispered in his ear, pressing a kiss just below it.

He looked confused for a second until his eyes widened, and he did as he was told.

“Now, don't play dumb with me. I know you’ll like this. I've seen you try and finger yourself before, but you did a shit job, and I promise this will be even better, ” you smiled, ruffling Tomura's hair.

He was getting more comfortable with you now, giving a nervous smile and humming when you touched his hair.

You walked back with everything you needed, only to sigh disappointedly, “oh Shiggy, that's not nearly wide enough. I know you can do better than that. Spread your legs more,”

He nodded, eager to please, and nearly did the splits. You giggled and smacked his butt. He jumped, causing you to laugh again.

“You’re so precious. It's a real shame I'm about to turn you into a slutty mess, ” you cooed.

He felt two slimy fingers press against his hole, and he shuddered. He tried to relax and let you press into him. It didn't take very long to get him moaning, bucking against your fingers. Two became three, and three became four before you decided he was ready. You were looking forward to eating him out, but this was supposed to be a punishment. You lined him up, rubbing the head against his hole that was still clenching around nothing. You pushed the entire thing inside of him as he screamed.

You scoffed, “do you know how many people you just woke up? Do you want the whole league to know you're getting pegged as punishment for being a disgusting, perverted slut? You want them to know that I'm fucking your ass? Huh? Do you? Cause I'll bend you over the fucking bar and show them who you submit to, ”

You started thrusting at a brutal pace. Tomura pushed his face into the pillow only for you to levitate him so he couldn't do anything to stop all the sounds coming out of his mouth. You were looking forward to all the looks you'd get as you smirked, and he struggled to sit next to you. You managed to go even harder.

“You’re not sitting or walking this week, Shiggy, ” you cooed.

“No, ” he choked out, “n-no call me Tomura p-please, ” he moaned.

“Tomura, ” you whispered in his ear, “pretty name for a pretty boy, ”

You reached around and twisted his nipple, causing him to cry out. Tomura only got louder as you reached around and grabbed his balls another hand-squeezed his tip between two fingers and pinched gently before jerking him instead. He was losing it now, tongue hanging out, and eyes rolled back. Little screams were ripped from him, and he jerked around.

“Y/n ‘m gonna, ‘m gonna cum, ” Tomura slurred.

“You gonna cum for me, Tomu? Go on, do it, ” you encouraged.

He cried out, his body going rigid as he shot cum out of his cock. He was gasping and panting as you let him flop down on the bed and pulled out.

“C-can you help me back to my room, ” he whispered, looking sad.

“No, ” you said as he frowned, eyes watering again, “because you're staying with me tonight. Get in bed, ”

He blushed and crawled into the corner. You yanked him closer, taking over as the big spoon.

“Goodnight, Tomura, ” you said. Kissing his back and shoulders, you rubbed his stomach and chest, “you're so pretty, baby. I forgive you. It’s obvious you’ve never had a crush on a girl before, and I think you learned your lesson, ” you said, rubbing his sore ass.

He nodded, “I'm sorry, I just didn't know what to do, ” he mumbled.

“I know, sweetie, ” you whispered, “I know. Was what we did ok? Did you like it?”

He nodded, “I liked it, ” he whispered.

“Do you need anything, ” you asked.

He shook his head, “just tired, ”

“Alright, baby, just get some sleep, love, ” you said.

He nodded as you both found an absurd amount of comfort in being so close to each other. You slept like a baby. You woke up to him gazing at you lovingly, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

He kissed your forehead, “I hope you know you're never getting rid of me, ” he smiled.

He kissed you, “y’know I'm kind of disappointed you didn't kiss me last night, ” he pouted.

“Mmm, I was too busy fucking you, sorry sweetie, ” you said, kissing him again.

“You enjoyed your ‘punishment’ a little too much, but having to go downstairs should be punishment enough, ” you grinned.

He groaned, “please don't make me. Let me stay in my room forever y/n, ”

“No, can do Tomu, you need breakfast, ” you said.

You walked downstairs, sitting at the bar and eating your breakfast. No one else was up yet, or so you thought until you heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

“You're not dead?” Dabi asked, completely dumbfounded.

“No dumbfuck, I'm not dead. Why the hell would I be dead?” he snapped.

“I dunno maybe cause you were screaming from y/n’s room all nigh- oh no. Oh god I think I'm gonna be sick, ” he fake gagged.

All you did was laugh at him.

“You two are disgusting, y’know that?” he said.

“We know, ” you smiled eating the rest of your breakfast.

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cafedanslanuit · 3 years

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chapter guide | prev. chapter | next chapter

✖ — summary: porco wasn't surprised when you called him at three in the morning because you were too drunk to drive back to your place. he would always be there when you needed, both as your best friend and the guy who was completely head over heels for you. and both of them were sure zeke jaeger was cheating on you.

✖ — pairing: porco/reader & zeke/reader

✖ — tags/warnings: so far it’s sfw but rating will change in future chapters, college au, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, unrequited love, cheating, toxic relationships, friends to lovers

chapter one: save your love

“Thanks for picking me up, Pock. You didn’t have to.”

“Tch. Of course I did,” Porco replied, putting his arm on the back of your seat on his car and reversing, getting out of the bar’s parking lot. You took your time observing him and noticed the bags under his eyes. You shouldn’t have been surprised. What were you expecting when you called him at 3 am asking him to pick you up from the bar because you were too drunk to drive home?

Porco rested his arm on the open window of his car, his other hand handling the wheel with ease. There were very few cars on the highway and the chilly air refreshed your body just right, making the ride home a lot more comfortable than you pictured. You closed your eyes, basking in the feeling of safeness you always felt whenever your best friend was around, plus the sweet dizziness on your head from the vodka and Porco’s cologne.

“What did the fucker do this time?”

It didn’t last long.

“He didn’t do a thing.”

Porco scoffed. “Yeah, right. Are you really going to pretend you didn’t end up in that bar because of what Zeke’s ‘friend’ just posted on her Instagram?”

“Porco, please.”

“What was the caption again? Oh, right. ‘Movie night’, devil face emoji, fire emoji,” he recalled with a snicker, his eyes fixated on the road. “She even tagged him on it, her legs resting on his lap and shit. Was it the same girl he took to the cat shelter for some ‘volunteer work’ last week or another?”

You didn’t answer. You knew Porco already knew who she was.

“She’s very pretty,” you mused. “It makes sense.”

“Please, have you looked at yourself?” Porco asked, taking a right turn.

Jokingly, you took the rearview mirror and angled it towards you. Your mascara was a little worn off and there were only traces of the red lipstick you had put on before heading to the bar. Your hair was messy as well and you look like you desperately needed a bottle of water.

“I look like shit,” you laughed, putting the mirror back to its original place.

“Shut the fuck up, you look good.”

“Pock, look at me. Whatever is going on here,” you said, gesturing at your face, “ain’t good. If you think so, your taste is really lacking.”

Porco chuckled, eliciting a soft smile from you.

“I like to think I have really good taste.”

“If we’re being serious, you have way too high standards,” you yawned, extending your arms and feeling some cracks on your back.

“How so?” he inquired, arching an eyebrow.

“You haven’t been in a relationship since I know you, which is what— a year?”

“And?”

“And I’m starting to think you’re afraid of commitment. Maybe you’re just afraid of a relationship,” you shrugged.

“Are you done, Freud?” he teased, sparing a quick glance at you before looking back at the road again.

“All I’m saying is you’ve had both beautiful girls and boys at your disposition and you have never even tried to date them. Well, no, my bad, you did take this one girl on a date. And what happened next?”

Porco chuckled. “Look, it’s not like that, we just didn’t click and—”

“You told her you were better off as friends and to this day I haven’t listened to a solid reason as to why you would drop such a pretty girl like her.”

“She just didn’t have what I was looking for,” he shrugged innocently.

“See what I mean? Unbelievable high standards. None of us is worthy of the mighty Porco Galliard, the lacrosse team captain who can fit seventeen marshmallows inside his mouth.”

Both of you broke in laughter, not caring about waking up someone from the houses alongside the road. You looked around and immediately recognized the neighbourhood, your laugh ceasing immediately. You patted Porco’s arm, trying to get his attention.

“Can you turn left at the next intersection?”

“We need to keep straight to get to your place.”

“I want to go to Zeke’s for a minute.”

Porco’s face twisted into a scowl. “Why would you want to go to him right now?”

“I— he told me he was watching movies by himself. I just want to check on him, we don’t even have to step off the car.”

“Hey,” he said sternly, catching your attention. “Don’t do this. You saw her Instagram post, you know what happened between those two. Are you really going to believe him after you just saw fucking evidence?”

“I know him,” you insisted. “He wouldn’t just flat out lie to me, not like that.”

“And the photo from tonight? How do you explain that?”

You took a deep breath, a sharp pain in your head making you close your eyes tightly.

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “Please, just— drive past his house. If his lights are out, then he must be sleeping after watching those movies by himself, just like he told me so.”

Porco scoffed.

“Porco, please,” you pleaded, squeezing his arm as you got closer and closer to the intersection. “Please.”

Rolling his eyes, Porco turned left as you asked him to and started driving to Zeke’s house, following your instructions. He didn’t try to come up with conversation again, instead, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as he pulled up crossing the street, a couple of houses away from your target.

Your heart immediately relaxed when you looked at Zeke’s window: the lights were off. You let out a long, tired sigh, letting your forehead rest on the glove compartment of Porco’s car.

“I don’t understand you,” Porco sneered, resting his chin on his hand, his elbow pressed on the open window of his car. “Him having the lights off means nothing, he could—”

Porco turned to you as you sat back up, your eyes meeting his. He bit his tongue, silently cursing and looked at his wheel, setting both his hands on it.

“He could what?” you insisted.

“Nothing,” he quickly replied, passing a hand through his hair. “His lights are off. Can we go now?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you whispered, sitting back against his passenger seat and getting comfortable.

Right when Porco was reaching for his keys, a noise in the quiet neighbourhood startled you. Both of you raised their heads as a black car passed alongside them and parked in front of Zeke’s house. A tall, blonde girl exited the same house, accompanied by none other than your boyfriend. You recognized her as Yelena, who had begun appearing more and more frequently in his pictures at the same time he started posting less and less about you.

Zeke walked her to the car and you watched in horror as she pressed a kiss on the corner of his lips before getting in the car. He closed the door after her and patted the roof of the car twice before sending her off. Porco gripped the wheel tightly as Zeke stretched his arms and walked back home, dragging his feet without a care in the world.

Sighing, Porco turned to you, who were already dialling Zeke’s number.

“No, c’mon,” he said, trying to take your phone away but you swatted his hand away, putting a finger on top of your lips, asking for silence.

“Hey baby,” you greeted in your fake, cheery voice. Porco couldn’t believe after spending two years with you, Zeke couldn’t realize that when your voice got too high-pitched, it meant you were faking every word. “Yeah, I know it’s late. Sorry. Sorry. Yes, I just— I know. I know it’s too late to call.”

Porco could feel his blood boiling at every apology that came out of your mouth even after witnessing Yelena leaving his house not even five minutes ago.

“I just wanted to ask how you were doing? Were the movies fun?” you made a pause, your smile tight on your face. “Ah, I see. Wasn’t it boring to watch all by yourself?” you pressed and not even you could maintain your smile after hearing his response. “Mhm, I do know you prefer to watch movies alone. Anyway, it is quite late. Talk to you later, I love—”

You looked at the screen on your phone and noticed the call had already ended.

“Well, there’s that,” you mused to yourself before putting your phone back on your jeans.

Silently, Porco started his car again, driving away from the suburbs and heading to your place as he had intended in the first place. The comforting silence was now poisonous, his eyes flicking from the road every minute to check on you, who was looking outside the window with your eyes lost. your mind probably too full of thoughts that he couldn’t begin to understand.

It didn’t mean he didn’t want to, though.

He kept driving in silence until he reached your apartment, parking in his usual spot. He left the engine running, even if you knew he always waited until you entered the building to drive away. He unlocked the doors and let out a long sigh.

“Drink some water before getting to bed,” Porco reminded you, both his hands on the wheel.

You didn’t move a muscle, eyes lost on his glove compartment, the events of the night running around your head. Yelena’s Instagram photo. Zeke’s text telling you he was alone. Him kissing her goodnight at 2 am.

“Hey,” he called, startling you. “Are you okay?”

You opened your mouth but then closed it, not knowing where to start. You pursed your lips and tugged at your fingers in discomfort.

“Talk to me,” Porco insisted.

“Can you stay tonight?” you asked in a small voice. “Annie is out and I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts tonight.”

Before you could finish your sentence, Porco was already killing the engine.

It was a silent walk to your apartment. You checked yourself in the elevator's mirror, realizing how awful you truly looked. Your eyeliner was smudged along with your mascara and the bags under your eyes were more noticeable than ever. As you inspected your face, Porco grabbed your cheek between his thumb and index, playfully pulling it from side to side until you were laughing, asking him to stop.

When you entered your apartment, you immediately walked to the bathroom, in deep necessity of a shower. Porco knew your apartment like the back of his hand, so after a quick detour to the kitchen, he made his way to your bedroom. He saw your laptop on your bed, messy sheets and clothes on the floor, probably how you had left it after seeing Yelena’s post on Instagram and decided to go to your favourite bar and forget about it for a while.

Porco took off his shoes and started picking up your clothes and put them on your spare chair, your laptop now on your desk. While he made your bed, he listened to you using your hairdryer in the bathroom and figured you would be out soon. He took out his phone from his pocket and looked at this schedule. It was already four in the morning and he had classes at nine. It was okay, he told himself. He had a hoodie in his car he could change into the next morning, and no one would say anything about him arriving in sweatpants. Well, no one that cared enough about their reputation to try and make fun of one of the golden boys of the university, at least.

You stepped off your bathroom already wearing your pyjamas, a tank top and small cotton shorts. Being friends with Porco for so long, it wasn’t the first time he had seen you in your pyjamas but it was truly the first time he saw you so small while wearing them. Maybe it was because of everything that happened that night, your tired eyes or the way you were standing, but Porco had to fight off the urge to put his arms around your body and protect you. From what? He wasn’t quite sure.

He handed you a bottle of water he had grabbed from the kitchen and you drank it all in one try.

“The only true secret to avoid being hungover tomorrow,” he reminded you.

“I know,” you smiled, leaving the empty bottle on your desk. “C’mon, let's get to bed.”

Porco had slept with you before, sure. You had travelled to the beach together with some friends and your sleeping bags were always put next to each other, which only prompted you to talk all night, telling each other embarrassing stories from your younger years. You had also fallen asleep in Porco’s dorm before, after a party that left you too tired to go back to your place. He would always let you crash on his bed and you slept soundly, knowing you were safe if he was around.

Zeke had never liked that. But Porco couldn’t care less.

He got into bed first, scooting to the wall and making space for you. You laid next to Porco, facing him and sighed happily when your head finally hit your pillow

“Thanks for making the bed, Pock,” you smiled.

“Why are you still with him?”

You averted his gaze, your smile dropping in an instant. “I love him,” you muttered.

“Do you? Do you really love someone who is lying to you like this?” he insisted. You felt a knot forming on your throat. “You understand he was fucking Yelena, right?”

You nodded softly, hugging the pillow under your head.

“Then why waste your time with an asshole like him? What are you waiting for, what do you want him to do so you finally leave him? What’s your tipping point, huh?”

Porco’s voice was gentle yet firm as he tried to get to you. He watched you as you laid still, not willing to answer any of his questions. He wondered if maybe you didn’t want to know the answer either.

“You’re smart. You’re— fuck, you’re one of the smartest people I know. Why are you letting him treat you like garbage? Why are you allowing him to hurt you like this?”

Once again, he was met with silence.

“You’re are fun, beautiful and yet you’re drunk at 4 am on a fucking Wednesday because your boyfriend is cheating on you and not only that— he’s fucking her and letting everyone know. Why are you doing this to yourself?” he inquired, his voice getting a little desperate. “You should be with someone who treats you right, who— fuck, someone who knows how much you’re worth. Someone who would never hurt you like this.”

You couldn’t suppress a cold laugh.

“Yeah, like who?” you scoffed, nuzzling your face on your pillow.

“Like me.”

You snapped your head to Porco, eyes open wide and lips parted, trying to form words.

“W-what?”

You looked at Porco, his eyes looking intensely at you. He opened his mouth and closed it almost immediately, shaking his head.

“No,” he said, almost to himself, shifting on the bed and propping up on his elbow, his body still facing yours. “I said what I said. I… I love you. Have loved you for quite some time now,” he admitted. You watched heat rising to his cheeks, tinting them deep red.

“I— I love you too,” you said softly. “You know that. I always tell you how grateful I am to have you in my life and that I—”

“You know I don’t mean it like that. I don’t love you as a friend,” Porco muttered, rolling his eyes.

You stayed in silence, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as your eyes scanned the bed sheets between both your bodies. Even if Porco was being crystal clear with his words regarding his feelings towards you, somehow it didn’t make sense in your head.

“Why?” you whispered.

“What do you mean ‘why’?”

“Why do you… well—”

“Why do I love you?” Porco asked, raising an eyebrow. He watched you nod softly. “Well, ‘cause it’s you. Ever since we met, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you, your weird sense of humour and your irrational fear of panda bears,” he said, making both of you laugh, helping in releasing the tension both of you were carrying since his confession. “C’mon, you honestly thought I was so full of myself I didn’t think anyone was worthy of dating me? Fuck, I—,” he let out an honest chuckle, passing a hand through his hair. “I was just in love with you. And trust me, it’s not fun going out on a date with someone when all you can think is ‘Oh, she’d love this place’ or ‘I would be having much more fun if she was here instead’.”

“You really did that?” you asked in a small voice.

Porco smirked, cocking his head towards you. You knew his confession was playing a big part but you couldn’t stop noticing how handsome he truly was. Sure, you had always known he was good-looking, you knew this when you teased him for not going out with other people, but you never realized how truly beautiful he was.

Looking at him lying on your bed, the moonlight coming from your open window and hitting his face, it was as if you were looking at him for the first time, noticing the smallest details you had been ignoring for so long. Like how his eyes weren’t hazel but golden and that he had a few freckles on his cheekbones, decorating his slightly tanned skin. His lips also looked soft, even for someone who had woken up in the middle of the night to pick up their drunk friend. The white t-shirt he was wearing exposed his toned arms, making you feel the need to bury your face on his chest so he could put them around you.

You hadn’t realized you were moving forward until you felt Porco’s hand on your shoulder, preventing you from getting closer. You should have known you wouldn’t have been able to notice his freckles from afar. Porco’s eyes went from your lips back to your eyes and you sensed how bad he was rethinking his choices as he gently pushed you back on the bed.

“Listen, I—” he started, his blush only getting more noticeable, now making the tip of his nose turn red as well. “I’m not going to be your rebound, neither someone who you fuck out of spite or to get back at your boyfriend. Fuck, I don’t even know why I told you this,” he sighed, putting down his propped arm and laying his cheek on the pillow next to you. “Just… do better. For yourself. You deserve much more than that monkey man who hasn’t realized he’s a four dating a ten.”

You giggled at his remark and he smirked, proud of himself. Porco and you looked at each other’s eyes, a soft smile lingering on your lips. Tentatively, you reached for his hair, his golden locks feeling soft under your touch. Porco stayed still as you played with his hair, even closing his eyes as you did so.

After a few moments, your hand travelled to his cheek, making him open his eyes again. Your thumb gently stroked his skin, soft and tender under your touch. Porco’s eyes were fixed on your face as you caressed him silently. Your other fingers started running over his skin with a feather-like touch, entrapped in the sweet moment between the two of you.

Porco turned his head just enough for his mouth to meet your palm. He pressed a kiss on it, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt your heart skipping a beat and a smile creeping on your face.

“Can I hug you?” you asked in a whisper.

Porco nodded, opening his arms for you. You scooted closer to him, sliding your right arm around his waist, bending your other arm and flushing your head against his chest. Your legs tangled together, not taking too long before finding a comfortable position.

Once you were settled, Porco’s left arm draped around your body, pulling you closer to him gently. He pushed his right arm under your pillow, loving how easy it felt to be like this with you. It was as if you were always meant to sleep like this, with your face against his chest and your hand on his back. He looked down at you and pushed some of your hair away from your face

“Are you comfortable?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, taking a deep breath and sighing contently against his chest. Porco’s cologne filled your senses and you couldn’t help but smile at the homely feeling.

He pressed his lips against your forehead. “Goodnight,” he whispered, closing his eyes. You imitated him and quickly fell into a deep sleep.

...

When Porco opened his eyes the next morning, he felt as if only a couple of seconds had passed since he had closed his eyes. He sighed. Well, it wasn’t the first time that he had sleeping problems but a part of him innocently hoped it would change after he got to sleep by your side. He looked at your sleeping face. It was way too innocent from him to think just because he got to rest by your side he would have had a good sleep.

He looked down at your sleeping face and couldn’t help but smile a little. He recalled the moment you leaned into him, searching for a kiss before he had to push you away. Porco exhaled, his eyes travelling to your lips. There wasn’t anything he wanted more than to kiss the girl of his dreams— hell, he had dreamt about that for almost a year now.

But not like that. Never like that.

Porco took his phone on your bedside table and checked the time. Seven in the morning. He yawned, burying his face in the pillow. He hated his inability to go back to sleep after he had already woken up. His first class was in three hours and while you didn’t have any classes in the morning, he knew you would probably wake up regretting having drunk so much the night before.

Carefully, he pulled away from you and headed to the kitchen. You had mentioned Annie was going to be out and he figured either she hadn’t come home yet or she was asleep as well. Just in case, he tried to be extra silent while preparing coffee. He thanked Annie was the closest thing to a coffee connoisseur he knew, because he couldn’t help but let out a happy hum when the smell of coffee filled the kitchen.

As he watched the coffee drip on your mug, he leaned on the counter, his mind going back to the night he’d spent on your bed. How your fingers traced his hair, how your hand felt against his cheek and the way you looked at him when he kissed your palm. Even if he had stopped you from kissing him, somehow the tender moment you shared had felt even more intimate. Like it was always supposed to be like that: just you and him.

It wasn’t until several minutes later that Porco realized he had been smiling the whole time. He had told you he loved you. You hadn’t pushed him away after knowing how he really felt about you— not only that, you had shown him tenderness by cuddling with him the whole night. Even if Porco was aware things were far more complicated than that moment, he also knew it was a step in the right direction. He could almost see you sitting on the counter in front of him, morning light hitting your face and your legs swinging while you looked at him with a soft smile.

A shuffling noise made Porco snap out of his daydreaming. He peeked from the kitchen door, thinking Annie was back home but instead he found you stepping out of the room, wearing shorts and a big hoodie while you checked your phone.

“Thought you didn’t have class until later today,” Porco said, walking into the living room and startling you.

“Hey Pock— and no, I— Zeke called. He said he wants to talk, that he needs me, so I… I called an Uber, I’m going to his place now.”

“Are you serious right now?”

You looked into his eyes and immediately back to the floor, his glare too full of the truth for you to endure.

“The Uber is waiting,” you said in a small voice. “Thanks for… driving me home and staying. I have to go.”

In silence, Porco watched you walk past him to your apartment door and carefully close it behind you. A part of him wanted to think it was nothing but a joke from your part, that you would open the door any second now.

The song of the coffee machine turning off let him know he should have known better than to hope.

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