#tumblr fucked up the text somehow so here it is again with a slightly different text coloring

[jungkxook]

—hot boy bummer. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader 

⟶ genre: fuckboy!jungkook / friends with benefits / friends to lovers + smut  

⟶ words: 14,633

⟶ rating: 18+ 

⟶ summary: when jungkook offers you a proposition of just sex, no strings attached, how can you possibly say no? after all, what are best friends for?

⟶ warnings: kind of a crack fic, sprinkle of angst, way too casual conversations mid-sex, jealous jungkook, slight himbo jungkook tbh (he’s kind of a sweet loveable idiot), he also has a big dick oops, man bun and blonde jungkook to feed my fantasies!, multiple smut scenes!!!, missionary, dry humping, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking, unprotected sex, slight degradation (mostly jungkook hating himself), brief name calling, light choking, sort of praise kink

⟶ note: this was inspired by a number of things but mainly do me by kim petras being on jungkook’s spotify playlist, this tiktok sound, and this tumblr post lol also big thank you to @bratkook​ and @onherwings​ for letting me ramble on about this fic and reigniting my inspo for it 💛

( p.s. i tried to proofread this but if y’all see any typos no u didn’t, thank u <3 )

Being friends with Jungkook meant a myriad of things but mainly that there were hardly ever any boundaries that stood between you and him.

Having known him for most of your life, it was just a quintessential part of yours and his relationship with one another. From high school parties where you drunkenly spewed on his shoes and in his dad’s car after he tried lugging you home (and taking the fall all himself for your sake) to letting him lose his virginity in your bed to some girl you didn’t know because your parents were out of town and his would crucify him on the spot if they had found out; or him discovering your stash of vibrators in your dorm one day, or seeing each other naked more often than was probably necessary, there was nothing that either of you could do that would phase the other at this point even when it maybe, probably, definitely should.

College, and Jungkook’s sudden six pack of hard rock abs, only seemed to amplify the chaos of your friendship. If you’re being honest, the abs are sort of a plus ━ but they brought an air of fuckboy to him that is undeniably there even if he tries to deny it sometimes. You suppose it isn’t all his fault. Jungkook has always been bold and brash, attractively charming. Considering he’s seemingly made it his mission to sleep with every girl on campus before he graduates (undisclosed, if you’re being honest, because he’s never outwardly admitted it but you have a hunch), his confidence somehow hasn’t failed him yet.

But then there’s one night in which you think to yourself briefly: this surely must draw some sort of line.

“What if we, like, had sex?”

Jungkook says this a little too casually from beside you. He’s sat on the couch in his dorm, scrolling aimlessly on his phone, and you’re sprawled out on the remaining space, feet kicked up in his lap. You’re positive he’s drunk but, then again, so are you. The remnant shot glasses of soju you had both started the night with (though you think Jungkook’s had half the bottle himself), and your second glass of wine, are all evidence of that. You’re so absorbed by some anime Jungkook had been watching upon your arrival and refused to change that you almost don’t hear what he says. Almost. You do, however, nearly choke on the gummy bear you’ve just tossed into your mouth.

After a sudden hysterical fit of coughs, you manage to sputter, “Excuse me?”

“Like, hypothetically speaking.” He hardly budges when you turn to gawk at him, as if he’s asking you something as casual as what to eat for dinner or if you could pass him the T.V. remote. “Except, not really hypothetically.”

“You’re joking, right?” You scoff.

Jungkook blinks. “No. Why would I be joking?”

You blink. The longer you stare at him, the quicker you’re able to discern that there’s some sort of earnesty in his words and it slightly concerns you. Suddenly, you’re warm in the face. To distract from that painfully obvious fact, an incredulous laugh bubbles at your lips and you kick one of your feet at his thighs. “Very funny, Koo. Can we change the show now if you’re not even watching it?”

“I’m not joking, Y/N.” The severity in his tone makes you sit up at once. When you turn to look at him, he flashes you a taunting smirk, though the devious sparkle in his eyes lets you know this seems to be anything but a joke to him. “I’m sure you’ve thought of me naked before.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot━” Okay, so maybe you have thought of him naked before but how is it your fault when you literally have seen him naked before, and he’s so unabashed around you? “Should I bring you to a hospital to get your head checked, or━?”

“Just hear me out━” Now, he pushes himself to the edge of the sofa. “Why are you here right now?”

“In life? Because I honestly have no clue━”

“No, I meant here. Getting drunk in my apartment on a Friday night instead of getting railed.”

“Okay, I didn’t ask to get called out like that,” You grumble stiffly. “And because you’re my best friend, and I like spending time with you.” It’s not entirely a lie, because you would much rather spend time with Jungkook than anyone else. But when you feel his eyes boring into you in a look of scrutiny, your lips form into a pout which you try to hide by puckering them. “Also because boys are stupid and Hoseok’s blind date stood me up. Again.”

The events from hours earlier resurface in your memory, in which you had spent all evening making yourself look pretty for a boy you had only talked to through text that your roommate had introduced you to, only to arrive to the restaurant you were supposed to be meeting at and waiting there for half an hour by yourself before the boy had sent you a message saying something along the lines of “something came up, hope we can reschedule,” filing it under one of the lamest excuses you’ve ever heard because it hardly even borders on a valid excuse. It’s what had ultimately made you storm into Jungkook’s apartment an hour ago, exclaiming aloud as a greeting with a simple yet scarily cheerful I hate men! because Jungkook knows all about your plights with finding a significant other (or even just someone decent enough to open your legs to), usually lamenting men’s inability to have any emotions. Even the ones who you think are respectable enough, who say they’re fine not having sex on the first date, usually tend to flee right after you finally let them in because sex, as you come to find, seems to be all that men care about.

Admittedly, Jungkook is not any different.

“But it’s not like you’re any better.”

This seems to personally offend Jungkook. He looks at you cynically. “Me?”

“Tell me why you’re here with me on a Friday night when you’re literally one of the hottest guys on campus,” You point out. “You can get any girl, and yet you somehow manage to ruin it every single time. Like with Eunha.”

Jungkook winces. The poor Eunha in question is a pretty girl from your chem class, whomst Jungkook had somehow managed to charm. From what you know, they had hooked up a handful of times before that fateful night in which Jungkook had abruptly broken things off with her. If you’re being honest, he’s not a total monster. The only thing that seems to scare him away is when a girl asks to cuddle him in the morning or talks about the prospective future together. He doesn’t want to hurt them, he told you once before, and finds it much easier to nip any potential relationship in the bud before it can get too far, too out of control.

“We literally only slept together three times anyway and we never went out,” Jungkook points out. “What’s the big deal?”

A roll of your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. “Yeah, it’s not her fault you’re scared of commitment.”

“Nu’uh,” The boy sulks. “I’m only scared of realistic things, like microwaves.”

A snort bubbles at your lips, and it’s frustrating how adorable he finds the simple action. Rather than entertain the thought of his irrational fear of kitchen appliances (because you’ve heard it all before, and you still can’t find where he was incited with the terror of an exploding microwave), you sit up.

“Jungkook, I don’t even like you like that.”

“I don’t like you like that either. That’s why it’s so perfect!” Jungkook says brightly. “Look, we know each other better than anyone else ever could. We’re already comfortable with each other. We don’t have to go through all that boring small talk. All I’m saying is we could give it a try. No relationship, no emotions, just sex.”

You consider the thought for a moment, weigh the pros and cons in your head.

The cons? He’s your best friend.

The pros? He’s your best friend, and he’s hot.

Truthfully, your slightly buzzed mind can find very little to dissuade you away from the inviting proposition and maybe that’s why you begin to entertain the idea. And, sure, you had just complained profusely about how men sometimes only used you for sex, but it’s not like you don’t have needs too. You just don’t have the gusto in you anymore to spend days on a boy who will only just leave you the moment you let him have sex with you. At least with Jungkook, he’s already offering you a blatant deal of sex only and you know you won’t have to worry about him breaking your heart; and he doesn’t have to worry about the dreaded dreamy post-sex cuddle talk of a future family and babies and a white picket-fence home. It’s a win-win for the both of you, really. Or maybe you’re just telling yourself that.

“How would we even start?” You ask finally. “I mean… Do you even find me attractive enough in that way?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook hardly bats a lash. He meets your stare, licks slowly at his lower lip. When he sees the cross look of disbelief scrunching at your face, he hastens to respond. “I’m not blind. You’re fucking drop dead gorgeous, Y/N.”

“But physically attractive? I’m no hot girl Eunha.”

“If I wanted Eunha, I’d be between her legs right now. Y/N, of course I think you’re attractive.” A gentle sliver of a smile dances upon his lips. He leans his head on the back of the couch, eyes fluttering over your appearance shortly. “I’ve always liked your lips, and your eyes. Think they’re beautiful.”

Suddenly, you’re flustered again. The room feels as if it’s getting increasingly warmer, yet you seem to want to bask in the feeling and attention a little longer. “That’s too sentimental.”

“It’s true though.”

“Well, you’re lucky I’ve always had a thing for idiots,” You jest playfully. “Jerks, too. Playboys who are too hot for their own good.”

“Ah, and I love it when you talk dirty to me.” A cheeky grin tugs at his lips as he clutches at his heart over his chest. “It’s a good thing I like it a little too much, knowing you’ll always keep me in check.”

But then the mirth seems to fade from your mind long enough for you to hum aloud pensively, “And I’ve always liked your eyes. I’ve never seen such big eyes before. Sometimes, if I look long enough, it’s like I can see the stars in them.”

As you’re speaking about them, his irises glisten magnificently. He bites at his lip now, as if to hide the way his soft smile turns sheepish. “I like your bum.”

“Really? I always worry it’s too flat.”

“Are you kidding? Your ass is a fucking god-send. It’s hard not to stare when you wear leggings sometimes,” Jungkook admits, earning a small giggle from you. “And I like your boobs. I’ve always wondered…” He trails off abruptly, shaking his head. He shoots you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop. I’m being an idiot, aren’t I?”

“Well, maybe I don’t want you to stop.”

Silence saturates the room now, settling comfortably between the two of you. He wonders what you’re thinking, and you wonder if he can hear your heart hammering against your chest. Perhaps on any other day when you were of sound mind, you could find a plethora of reasons as to why sleeping with your best friend was a terrible idea. But being that you were slightly tipsy, and Jungkook isn’t far off, you can find not one fault, except for maybe how tragically hot Jungkook looks sitting across from you and how he’s never been yours, at least in that way. Would it be so wrong to try just once?

You shift then, pushing yourself to your knees if only so you can worm your way towards him before swinging one leg over his. You settle back on his lap, hands gripping his shoulders. He can feel your core press against the inside of his thigh, just where his dick is nestled and he has to bite back a moan. His eyes are wider than usual, as if believing the moment to be surreal, though something sultry threatens to darken them.

“Y/N…”

The excitement crackles through your veins like electricity. You’ve never been in such a compromising position with Jungkook before, and you wonder if it should be concerning just how much you’re enjoying it. It almost feels as if time slows down, every second dragging on, yet he can’t look away. His hands come to tug at your hoodie (that he’s almost positive was his once upon a time before you nicked it from his closet) and you meet him part way, replacing his efforts as you pull it up and off your body. Then, you’re sitting back on his lap in your full nude glory, chest bare and right in his face. He eyes the swell of your breasts, the perk of your nipples. Of course you’re not wearing anything beneath your hoodie ━ and, god, he loves it.

“Touch me?”

Your voice comes to him in an almost dream. You reach for his hand then, your palm soft around his knuckles and the tattoos that ink his skin. It’s the same hand of which he wears the other half to your pair of friendship bracelets in one of his favourite colours of red, decorated with little pink hearts. It came in a matching set of two (yours in your own favourite colour, currently on the wrist of the hand you’re using to guide Jungkook’s), cute little macrame braid ones with hearts woven into the design that you had pointed out one day while you were both at the mall and he had bought without any hesitation mostly as a joke but resulted in both of you wearing them on a daily basis.

Now, all he can do is continue watching you with bated breath as you guide his hand right where you both want him. He comes to cup the underside of one of your breasts, your hand over his pressing his fingers tighter together until you can feel some sort of pleasant pressure. And, just like that, something feral and needy seems to snap within him. His hand slithers from your grasp if only so he can flick his thumb across your nipple, mesmerized by the softness of it. He’s only ever seen you naked once before and it was fleeting. You were both drunk, skinny dipping in a lake with a handful of other friends, but it had been too dark to notice much else. But now? Now, he can see all of you and the sight strikes a chord right down to his dick.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” Jungkook groans.

“Koo.” The cute little nickname you had given him sounds dirty now as it slips from your lips in a moan. “Too sentimental.”

But Jungkook isn’t listening because you really, really, really are so beautiful. He bows his head to your chest, catching one of your nipples in his mouth. He murmurs something against your chest that sounds akin to, “We can take things slow.”

“Slow…” Your head is spinning, but it’s a delightful sensation. Something hard pokes against your ass now, and the adrenaline only seems to build within you. It’s odd how everything feels so foreign ━ exploring his body and these newfound feelings like the uncharted territory it is ━ yet secure and safe at the same time. As if you know what to do next, where to touch next, how to move, your bodies almost fitting together like pieces to a puzzle. “Y-Yeah, I like that. Can I move?”

“Fuck, yes, please,” he growls. He’s much too busy nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin on your chest, teeth tugging at your nipple.

You hurry to obey, giving a small experimental swivel of your hips that almost immediately has the both of your inhaling a sharp breath of air. His dick strains against his sweatpants, the material doing very little in protecting him against you. Your core throbs as you rub yourself on him.

“Like this?” You rasp.

“Yeah, just like that.” Jungkook’s head rolls back onto the couch, his eyes squeezing shut and his blonde hair spilling into his eyes. He clenches his jaw, the nerves fluttering in the corner, as pure euphoria riddles his features. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anything so sexy. “Fuck, we probably shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Yeah,” You agree, breathless. “Do you wanna stop?”

“No. Do you?”

“No.”

“Thank god.” The sigh of relief that emits from Jungkook startles even him but, in the heat of the moment, he doesn’t register how any of this could be a mistake. “Ah, shit━ Faster━”

“Mmm, Koo━” You whimper as you quicken your pace, the vulgar harbored thought of his dick in you thrilling you to no end.

“Fuuck, I’ve never heard you sound like this before. So needy, so desperate,” Jungkook grunts, his fingers digging into your hips. And it’s all because of him, the way you’re feeling. He’s never wanted to hurry to please you faster, itching to tear you apart if he’ll get to hear those noises from you again and again. “I━”

He’s gonna cum, and he’s not even in your pussy. What’s gotten into him?  

He presses you a little harsher against his dick, sitting up straighter so that his chest is pressed flush against yours. He leans forward, lips chasing after yours, before you pull back just enough sluggishly to press your finger to his mouth.

“Uh uh. No kissing,” You rasp.

The words process in Jungkook’s head, but the weight of them don’t seem to linger in his daze. He’s far too overwhelmed by you and the way you’re making him feel to even begin to try to decipher why you avoid his mouth and so, for now, he doesn’t care. Instead, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, nose nuzzling against your throat. You clutch at his hair, tugging at the roots tight enough for him to moan.

“Nnngh, Jungkook━” You whine. “I’m gonna━ Oh, fuck, Koo━”

And then you’re unravelling, right in his very arms. He holds you close as you tremble and shake, rutting your hips sloppily against his to ride out your high, and Jungkook thinks he can definitely get used to this. The familiar burn forms in his stomach and, without even thinking of it, he comes in the confinements of his pants.

But in the heat of the moment, he doesn’t notice quite a lot of things. Neither do you.

So, maybe you could both find a hundred and one reasons why having sex with your best friend would surely cross some lines, but the thing with you and Jungkook (and what would eventually blossom into a hubristic relationship of sorts) is that it wasn’t just sex. You would always be comfortable around him, as he would be with you. And nothing could ever possibly get weird between the two of you ━ not when you had both made a promise to each other that it wouldn’t get in the way of your friendship.

Because ━ while, yeah, he’s hot and suffers from fuckboy tendencies from time-to-time and, aside from random late night hookups ━ he was still the same boy that would drag you out at three in the morning to drive to the next city over for a bowl of ramen, who would marathon shows as long as One Piece or Game of Thrones with you, watching as much as you can in one all-nighter; who would come to your dorm, no matter the time of day, the moment you said you were sick or suffering from cramps, piled high with your favourite snacks; who shared a repertoire of silly inside jokes with you that never made any sense to anyone but the both of you; who insisted you both wear friendship bracelets even in college. He would always be an angel to you, treat you well, because you meant that much to him.

A small thought in the back of Jungkook’s head wonders, above all else, if you were anyone different, would he have even bothered suggesting such a ludicrous idea, drunk or not?

Because he’s positive no one else could make him cum in his pants like a horny prepubescent teen ━ no one except for you.

“If we’re really gonna do this, we need to set some ground rules.”

Admittedly, neither you nor Jungkook knew what would happen after Jungkook’s proposition to you. Maybe you were expecting the two of you to pretend as if nothing had ever happened, or laugh it off as something so inconsequential that neither of you should bother worrying about it. Instead, the very next day, you find that you’re back in Jungkook’s dorm. Only this time, you’re in his bed, and he spent the past half hour sufficiently eating you out.

Now, you’ve had an epiphany in the form of Jungkook’s dick, and that is that it’s big.

You’ve seen it before on occasion ━ like when he streaked nude across campus as a dare or when he needed to use your shower because his apartment was under maintenance and he walked out on you in the living room ━ but this is clearly a very different circumstance. All red, swollen, angry tip wet and glistening with precum. You had to brace yourself as he pushed himself into you, cautiously and slowly, enjoying the way you stretch to fit around him. If you had a drunken excuse the night before for loving the thought of getting off with Jungkook, then you surely don’t have one now. It’s a shameless guilty pleasure, you think, that he’s at least indulging in.

“Rules,” Jungkook scoffs now. “You’re such a nerd. Fuck, you feel so fucking good━ You doing okay?”

More than. Your head lolls back against his pillow, eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head. “Mhm.”

“Want a minute?”

“Maybe.”

Jungkook pauses without any hesitation, gnawing on his lower lip as your walls clench around him so tightly he feels he might fall apart then and there. His hands are on your hips, thumbs rubbing comforting circles against your burning skin. A few deep breaths later and you’re probing Jungkook to move again. His hips rut into yours at a leisure pace, and he marvels for a moment at the way his dick disappears into your pussy, slick and wet with your own arousal. The thought of being in you ━ of finally feeling your walls wrapped around him, all wet and snug ━ is enough to make him bust then and there, but he refrains miraculously.

“Holy fuck,” You groan. “Why are you so big━”

Your voice cuts off into a delightful whimper, walls aching around him. Jungkook snorts, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. “Nothing sexier than hearing you stroke my ego.”

“Don’t let it get to your already big head,” You retort sluggishly.

“Big head!” he grumbles against your throat, lips brushing faintly against your skin and sending shivers down your spine. “Insult me some more. You know how it gets me going.”

“Oh my god, shut up. Where were we?”

“Rules.”

“Right,” You breathe in a sharp inhale of air as he grinds against your hips. “And rule number one is no kissing. That’s way too intimate.”

Jungkook quirks a brow. “How is kissing more intimate than having my dick in you?”

“It just is.” You refuse to tell him the truth. You poke your fingers at his sides, causing him to jerk against you. “Don’t question it.”

“Fine. Then no sentimental shit in general, like cuddling or pet names,” Jungkook retorts. “And no public displays of affection.”

“Okay,” You nod. “Fuck, Jungkook━”

“God, I love hearing you moan my name,” Jungkook grunts. He watches with fascination the way your face reacts at his every movement. “Too much?”

“No. Kinda hot,” You admit. An abrupt thought pops into your head that has you murmuring hazily, “Oh, and you can’t have sex with me to your sex playlist.”

Jungkook looks appalled. The sex playlist in question is one you’ve heard briefly before, if only because you’ve walked in on Jungkook and his flavour of the month a handful of times one too many times.

“So you’re telling me you don’t want to have the best orgasm of your life to The Weeknd or the Neighbourhood? WAP?” Jungkook asks, wriggling his brows suggestively. “Alanis Morissette?” You have less than half a second to register the 90s pop singer as out of place before Jungkook breaks out into song with a brief rendition of Head over Feet. “You’re my best friend, best friend with benefits━!”

Part of you knows he’s joking, but there’s still a small sliver of you that makes you gawk at him dubiously before dissolving into a fit of unabashed laughter. It rumbles against his chest, vibrates his dick in you. “You’re not serious, are you? That’s not actually in your sex playlist, is it?”

He flashes you a shit-eating grin. “Guess you’ll never know now.”

Another roll of your eyes makes him snicker. He’s gotten used to your snide remarks, but he’ll gladly keep suffering under them if he gets to wipe that taunting smirk off your face each time with the way his dick makes you feel. You cling a little tighter to his shoulders and muse aloud, “So that’s it then?”

“Yeah━” Jungkook knows you’re referring to the rules and your plan, although it’s getting harder to focus on talking as he continues to grind against you. “And nothing has to change between us, even if we stop. We’re still just two best friends.”

“Yup.”

“Who have sex from time to time.”

“Yeah.”

He can’t help himself. He tries again. “Who might kiss.”

“Nope.” You’re smiling even despite the way you shoot him an aggravated stare first.

“We might?”

“No, we definitely won’t.”

Worth a shot, he thinks to himself. At least you really do always keep him in check.

After all, what are best friends for?

So, maybe a part of you thought the shift in your relationship with Jungkook wouldn’t last very long. A week at most, and maybe Hoseok would find you another pointless let down of a blind date to go on and Jungkook would get horny for some other girl ━ but it’s certainly been more than a week now, and you’ve had sex with him more than two times.

A third, and a fourth, if you’re being blatantly honest, and maybe a few more times after that but you don’t really remember what count you’re both on now which should probably be concerning. Days elapse into days, which turn to weeks, then months. Morning, afternoon, and night.

It’s not as if you hadn’t already spent almost every waking moment with Jungkook but now you had a reason to be at his apartment at any and all hours of the day and not solely for movie watching marathons. You’re positive he’s still having his occasional random flings, though you’re fortunate his commitment issues at least force him to go to their homes rather than his for the most part, so you never really have to witness half-naked girls stumbling out of his apartment just as you’re wandering in. He says it has something to do with how his bedroom is his sacred space, though you think it’s more like he wouldn’t want his hook ups discovering his Overwatch figurines or something (because, before Jungkook’s proposition, you’ve walked in on him once and a girl when they were entangled on the couch in his living room).

But you’ve noticed lately you’re getting too comfortable with your arrangement with Jungkook; too comfortable knowing he’ll be there at the end of a long day to greet you, to please you until you’re crying out his name. Sometimes he tells you about the girls he’s texting, or shows you a picture from a hot girl’s Instagram whose D.M.s he’s just slid into. And sometimes you’re left wondering how often he comes straight to you after hooking up with a random girl.

It shouldn’t matter to you, and you swear that it doesn’t.

Maybe you’re just overthinking things. Hoseok certainly seems to think so, but his judgement wasn’t much to go by.

Because, lately, Hoseok has been encouraging you more and more to give Yukhei (the blind date Hoseok had initially set you up with when you found yourself at Jungkook’s) another chance for two reasons: 1) “Yukhei’s a nice boy,” he had cheerfully reminded you, “he’ll treat you well,” and 2) “Stop fucking your best friend. It’s morally wrong.”

There were many things wrong with his statement, from the fact that you didn’t exactly consider standing up a date as “nice” and that you were also still begrudgingly lamenting the way Hoseok had discovered your recent fling with Jungkook (although, you weren’t being very inconspicuous, having shower sex with Jungkook early one morning when you were certain Hoseok would be spending the day at his fiance’s home instead of yours).

But then you meet Yukhei and you realize that, oh crap, he’s cute. And he’s nice.

As it turns out, after bumping into him one day when you’re with Hoseok lounging on the quad of your campus and he comes bounding over to return a textbook Hoseok had lent him for a specific class, Yukhei is so easily charming. He also gives a pretty valid excuse for flaking on your date, proving that he had to present his dissertation, making you clearly aware that he’s cute, nice, and smart. Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t see the appeal, yet his curiosity and intrigue seems to get the best of him.

“So that was your blind date?” Jungkook asks after grabbing your attention on the quad and stealing you away from Hoseok and Yukhei. “Yukhei?”

“You know him?”

“Seen him around,” Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly. “I’ve never really talked to him. But him? You’re not telling me you’re actually interested in him, are you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe,” You’re truly just as clueless about your feelings towards Yukhei as Jungkook seems to be. “What’s so wrong about him?”

“He’s━” Jungkook stops. He shakes his head. “Heard he’s got a small dick anyway.”

You shoot the boy a wary look, only to find him grinning deviously at himself. “Maybe he just wants to be friends.”

At this, Jungkook lets out a scoffing sound that borders on disbelieving laughter. “No, I definitely think he wants to have sex with you in his Toyota Camry, Y/N, but what do I know?”

“You’re not jealous, are you?”

“No, why would I be jealous?”

You can’t quite tell if he’s angry or not but, then again, why would he be? As far as either of you are concerned, there’s nothing to be jealous of.

So then why does it feel like he’s simply just telling himself that?

“Are you seriously on your phone right now?”

Jungkook asks this from somewhere behind you a handful of days later, a little peeved but most likely because your jarring 8:00 a.m. alarm had roused the both of you violently awake. In his defense, Jungkook is not a morning person.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You’re currently sprawled out on your hands and knees on his bed, phone still in your grasp after having plucked it off the nightstand in haste. Your clothes are scattered across the floor of his room, remnant clues of the night before when he had beckoned you over after hours, and your body is covered in nothing but hickeys and an unbuttoned blue flannel belonging to Jungkook that you had chucked on last night that does nothing in covering up the swell of your breasts which Jungkook is now currently eyeing. “Am I not giving you enough attention? Were you expecting cuddles or something? Thought that wasn’t in the rules.”

“No,” Jungkook huffs. He runs a hand through his long messy hair in an attempt to fix it; he ultimately gives up taming his locks, instead using the hair tie around his wrist to tie his hair back into a cute yet sexy little ponytail. As he does so, you notice the red friendship bracelet around his wrist and smile smally. “But my dick could use some cuddles. Preferably with your mouth, but it will also gladly accept your hand.”

Jungkook may not be a morning person but, as you’ve come to realize, his dick certainly is.

It’s painfully obvious too, his hardened length straining against the gray sweatpants he had thrown on at some point. And, god, did he have to wear those? It left little to the imagination, the outline of his length teasing you just enough.

“I should get going,” You say. “I have a test coming up. There’s supposed to be a review session today in class, and I don’t want to miss it.”

“Well, you don’t seem like you’re in a rush since you’re still on your phone,” Jungkook points out. “Who are you texting anyway? Yukhei?”

“Anger is an emotion,” You rebuke casually. “So is jealousy.”

Jungkook feigns a look of mock hurt. “I’m not angry or jealous! I’m needy.”

Still, Jungkook reaches out to swiftly pluck your phone from your hands.

“Jungkook━!”

He’s pressed up against your back in an instant, his dick hard against your ass, and he doesn’t move very far even when you twist in your spot in an attempt to grab your phone back. You don’t, and instead you end up on your back with him on his side, propped up on his elbow. You miss when he casts a swift gaze down at your phone, only to see that Yukhei’s chat messages are indeed open, and something seems to gnaw terribly at his gut before he tosses your phone to the side. He’s looking at you now with those big beautiful eyes of his, and you hate it.

“Please?” he beckons. He ruts his hips impatiently but slowly against your leg. He drops his head to bury his face in the crook of your neck, lips dangerously close to brushing against your flesh but he refrains somehow. “M’so hard right now, could probably bust the moment you touch me.”

The thought is tempting, having a helpless Jungkook cumming in your hands. The sight alone has quickly become your favourite thing, helping the frustrated boy get off. Besides, you’re certain you could ask Hoseok for the review notes.

Fuck it, you cave.

You fidget until you’ve pressed him back against the bed and have clambered on top of him, wiggling your way down to fit between his legs. Jungkook is watching you now with a half-asleep expression, though his teeth sink into his lower lip as you pull at his sweatpants until they’re down at his thighs, letting his swollen dick spring free.

“You know━” You hum. You reach out to grab at the base of his cock. “Yukhei wants to hang out, and Hoseok keeps telling me to give it a shot.”

That much is true. Part of you wants to say yes, if only because Yukhei seems promising enough, but the thought alone is enough for you to feel as if you’ve done something horribly wrong to Jungkook.

“Oh.” The word eclipses Jungkook’s mouth in a shallow breath of air. Then, your mouth wraps around the puffy head of his dick, shining with leaking precum that you swallow back, and Jungkook’s reaction is immediate. Head thrown back, face scrunching together, muscles in his toned abdomen flexing as he seizes and grunts aloud. “Oh, fuck━ Well… Are you gonna?”

Jungkook asks the last question with much difficulty, and a part of him thinks it doesn’t all have to do with how you’re making him feel.

“Dunno.” You snort around his dick, and he marvels at how adorable such a lewd action can seem.

You decide to focus on sucking him off because it truly is a sexy sight to see, letting the topic of Yukhei drop. Jungkook certainly doesn’t mind. As you swirl your tongue around his tip and reach up with your free hand to fondle at his balls, his long hair falls into his lashes but he still tries to find you past his wild locks, hooded eyes gazing down at you.  

“Ah, shit━” Jungkook hisses delightfully, hips jerking forward instinctively into your mouth. The faintest hints of a drowsy smirk tug at his lips. “Fuck, yes, just like that.”

Yeah, you think to yourself then, you’re definitely going to ride him later. Screw going to class.

From: Jungkook Sent: 1:05 a.m.

bro i noticed u werent wearing our friendship bracelet while u were giving me head earlier. is everything ok??

You wake in the morning to a single text from Jungkook ━ and one you had not been expecting.

That’s not to say that getting the occasional text message from Jungkook at any and all hours of the day was abnormal, but the extent of his messages sent anywhere past midnight usually always range from something more coherent in the form of “what would u do if i was there rn?” to something exuding typical lazy Jungkook manner with a simple “dtf?” or “send noods lol” to something even more provocatively cryptic such as the eggplant and splashing water (or, as far as Jungkook is concerned, something else entirely) emojis and nothing else, left open for your own interpretation that typically, usually, without a doubt, results in you in his bed and his dick in you. But this seems to be something else entirely.

Unfortunately, Jungkook’s text isn’t the only concern of yours.

Hoseok has spent the better part of the morning giving you a lecture on why having sex with your best friend is bad. He seems so passionate about the topic that you’re certain he would have pulled out a powerpoint at any moment, each slide ending in a picture of Yukhei and why you should maybe try fucking him instead, if you entertained the idea a little longer. Hoseok claims it’s just a harmless date. Yukhei might be a nice boy, but you don’t know how you feel about him. You don’t want to lead him on, and a scary thought points out the fact that maybe, while Yukhei is a nice boy, he isn’t Jungkook.

“I don’t get why you don’t just give Yukhei a chance━” Hoseok is saying now, sat on the couch in your shared apartment with him. “It’s not like you have to marry him. I don’t think one date will hurt━ Aaand, you’re not even listening to me anymore, are you?”

The sheepish look on your face is enough of an answer for him. You’ve been anxiously eyeing your phone and the text Jungkook had sent you last that you’ve yet to respond to, even despite being awake for more than a few hours now.

“Yes, I am listening,” You say dismissively. “Something about how one date won’t hurt, but that’s what you said when Yoongi asked you out, and you’re literally engaged now.”

The glistening metallic ring on Hoseok’s finger is evidence enough. The boy looks down at it as if seeing it for the first time, purses his lips, and then nods in agreement. “Okay, yeah, maybe you’re right. But you’re holding out for Jungkook and for what? He’s hot, yeah, and he’s your best friend, sure, but at the end of the day he’s still just a horny male who wants to stick his dick in anything that moves.”

“Hoseok.” Your grumbling sigh is interrupted by the motion of your phone vibrating against your thigh once more. You peek at the screen fleetingly to see a new text.

From: Jungkook Sent: 2:35 p.m.

send n00ds?

miss ur tits :(

Typical Jungkook.

The text from the night before is all but seemingly forgotten from his mind, and you can’t quite tell if you’re devastated or relieved. You don’t have very long to discern which emotion you’re feeling when Hoseok snatches your phone to look at what’s gotten your attention before exclaiming suddenly, “Aha! See! What did I say?”

“It’s not like that,” You wave Hoseok off. “Jungkook treats me well. He respects me, and I’m comfortable with him.”

“And how long until whatever this is━” He gestures vaguely to your phone as if to point out your relationship with Jungkook, “has to end? Do you really think a pinky promise is going to make sure your friendship with him isn’t totally ruined? I mean, how can you continue being casual friends with someone, see them dating someone else, when they’ve had their dick in you?”

You know it makes sense. Realistically, you either stop sleeping with each other or it potentially develops into something more. But in both circumstances, what were the chances that either of you didn’t get your heart broken? Maybe a part of you was apprehensive of Jungkook finding the “right” person for him one day that has him ending things with you, and while you swear you’d be happy for him, relationships sometimes have a way of distracting people from those already around them. Were you prepared to have someone take him away from you, platonically and whatever it is else that you have with him? Did you really think you could just keep being friends with him, as if nothing ever occurred between you two?

You don’t think Jungkook is bothered worrying about the state of your friendship with him, much less overthinking it like you seem to be. It shouldn’t be a big deal ━ yet why was there still that terrible nagging voice in the back of your mind? Whether or not Hoseok is right, you don’t want to find out. You don’t have feelings for Jungkook anyway.

But your ability to bend at his every will is certainly interesting.

You grab your phone before Hoseok can do any serious damage like unlocking it and responding to Jungkook, clutching it to your chest as you start to cross the living room. The other boy looks at you in bewilderment. “Where are you going now?”

“Where does it look?” You call over your shoulder just before you disappear into the bathroom, and Hoseok deduces all at once that you’re truly a lost cause. “I need to send him a picture of my boobs.”

“He’s totally into you, Y/N.”

Admittedly, there were many mundane but essentially weird things you’ve talked to Jungkook about while having sex. You’ve had many heated debates about everything under the sun from whether or not pineapple on pizza should be illegal to top five betrayals in either movies or animes, to passionate grand philosophical discussions about what exists outside of the universe.

It’s not as if you had been planning on talking about Yukhei to Jungkook when he had invited you over to his apartment late at night after sending your risqué boob picture to him but, like many things in your friendship with Jungkook, it sort of just happened. He had asked you how your day was and you had decided to broach the topic experimentally, though you think deep down you’re doing it on purpose to see if he’d react in any way. What started with you mentioning Hoseok’s adamance and you sort of genuinely asking Jungkook for advice on Yukhei somehow evolved into Jungkook interrogating you on whether or not you’ve hung out with him yet.

“Jungkook. You’re getting off topic,” You admonish him now, as if your own choice of topic is any better when his dick is currently in you.

Jungkook is wedged between your thighs smushed up against your chest, large palms holding you on your ribcage in place beneath him. He’s a comfortable heavy draped over top of you, cock stretching you wide. You can feel his heart hammering against yours and he’s slick with sweat, golden hair clinging to his forehead and in his pretty eyes. You resist the urge to reach out and brush the messy locks away but, again, how would that be any less intimate of an action than what you’re already doing? Another line uncrossed, you suppose.

“How am I off topic?” Jungkook retorts. “You literally just said you can’t tell if he’s into you but he dropped by when you were done class and bought you lunch. You don’t just do that for a girl you don’t care that much about.”

“You buy me lunch, like, every day,” You point out.

“Because you’re my best friend. Of course I care about you,” Jungkook says.

“Ah, Jungkook━” You curse suddenly, grabbing his attention when you shift your weight beneath him. “You’re crushing me. Why’d you stop moving?”

He doesn’t have an answer, if only because he hadn’t even realized he’d stop moving in the first place. Without hesitation, he continues leisurely rutting his hips against yours, grabbing at one of your legs to hook it around his waist. This new angle lets you feel even more of him as he sinks further into you, if that was even still possible, reaching so far into you that you swear it’s like you can feel him in your stomach. Your head lolls back against the pillows, pure euphoria contorting your face so much so to the point that it distracts you entirely from the distant look glazing over Jungkook’s eyes.

“Yukhei definitely wants to bang,” he huffs under his breath.

At once, an exasperated groan fills his ears.

“I can’t believe we’re seriously having this conversation right now,” You roll your eyes, fingers prodding at his sides. “I don’t wanna talk about Yukhei potentially wanting to have sex with me.”

Jungkook’s glad you said it, at least. Though now he’s watching you with hooded eyes as he thrusts into you a little harder, maybe a little intentionally. His indulgent gaze droops to your breasts, admiring the way they bounce beneath him each time his hips make contact with yours. He thinks back earlier in the day to the picture you had sent him which, really, had sparked the mood for the rest of the night.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he whines abruptly. His eyes screw shut and brows furrow together as your walls clench around him. He drops his head to bury his face in your chest, lips momentarily wrapping around one of your nipples as he sucks harshly at the soft flesh. When he speaks next, forehead still resting against your collarbones, his voice is a breathless croak, “Well, do you like him?”

“No,” You moan. “Maybe━ Fuck, Koo━ I don’t know.”

“He’s gonna be at that party Tae’s throwing, isn’t he?” Jungkook tries to focus, but it’s becoming increasingly harder to do so when he’s inching closer and closer to his high. “Shit, ah, Y/N━ Why don’t you try talking to him or something? See how the night goes?”

“He’s nice but I don’t think he’s the one for me,” You admit sheepishly. “I think I’m just gonna end things while I still can, with as little harm as possible.”

“Well, glad that’s settled,” Jungkook mumbles. “Can we please stop talking about Yukhei now?”

You seem to miss the way he clings to you a little tighter, hands flying down to grip at your hips, nails digging crescent moon shapes into your skin. He snaps his hips into yours a little faster this time, your pussy throbbing around him.

“Nngh, Jungkook━”

Your hands fumble to grip at his hair, tugging tightly at the roots and earning a delightful hiss from the boy. Your own mouth drops open in a silent moan and it’s a wonder he doesn’t combust at just how sexy the sight is. He hates how his eyes stay trained on the shape of your lips, the soft plumpness of them. He’s felt them wrapped around his dick plenty of times before but he concedes that it’s probably hardly anywhere near to how it would feel to kiss you. Like actually kiss you, tongue and all.

God, what’d he give just to smother your lips with his.

And, god, he hopes you never find out. He’s positive that thought is far more scandalous alone than anything you’ve ever done together.

You’re writhing beneath him now, hips jutting forward desperately to meet his. “I’m gonna cum, Jungkook━”

“Fuck, yes,” Jungkook growls. “Wanna feel you cream around my cock so bad. Come on, baby━”

In the heat of the moment, you seem to miss the pet name that slurs off his tongue and the sentiment in it. A few more jolting slams of his hips and you’re tumbling over the edge. He has to sputter for air when he feels your pussy wrapping so tightly around him, stuttering in his pace above you if only to watch as you unravel beneath him. Hooded dark eyes glazed over in that perfect fucked out expression he loves so much, teeth biting at your lower lip so hard he wonders if it’ll bruise in the morning.

A sudden thought pops into his head when you’ve settled enough, amongst the blinding pure white of bliss that clouds his thoughts. “Did you get my text by the way? The one I sent last night?”

You gasp for air. The bracelet on your wrist itches at the mention of it, and you’re fortunate you decided to wear it that afternoon before coming to Jungkook’s. “Y-Yeah━”

“Well…?”

“Everything’s fine,” You say this as dismissively as you can. Your core is still vibrating after the harsh impact of your orgasm paired with Jungkook’s swollen length still in you. “I just… I was taking a shower and didn’t want to get it wet. I forgot to put it back on in the morning.”

That’s a lie. You had mostly taken it off as part of an experiment, though it hasn’t answered much. At least Jungkook doesn’t seem to realize that.

“Oh,” Jungkook breathes. A beat of silence passes, before he deadpans cockily, “Wait, you were taking a shower and I wasn’t invited?”

“Oh my god, shut up━” Maybe if he hadn’t just currently driven you to nirvana and back, you’d notice the way the sloppy grin on his face is a simple taunt. But you’re much too distracted to care. Instead, you use your leg that’s still hooked around his waist to gently push and roll him onto his back so that you can straddle his hips. His eyes sparkle mischievously as he watches you waste no time in hurrying to grind against him at an agonizingly steady pace that makes his head spin. “You’re ruining the moment. I’m trying to make you cum.”

A devious cackle rumbles from his chest, albeit a little contented at the same time. Yeah, he definitely likes the sound of that. “Well then, by all means, don’t let me stop you.”

It’s only then that his question comes back into your mind. If he felt the need to ask you again about the bracelet, maybe that meant something after all. At the very least, it means he hadn’t forgotten about it altogether. On the other hand, you wonder how often he had spent thinking, or over-thinking, the issue in the past twenty-four hours, if at all.

Was it wrong to feel some semblance of joy over that potential fact? Probably.

That doesn’t seem to bother you much this time. Not when he’s gazing up at you as if you’re some divine sexy goddess, all his to enjoy. You can’t help yourself; you reach down to brush the sweaty hair from his eyes, perhaps all too gentle of an action for best friends.

And he smiles, maybe a little too softly and maybe a little too ardently if you look close enough.

He smiles.

The thing about your supposed “rules” with your relationship with Jungkook is that there might be a few loose ends that neither you nor Jungkook pay much attention to sometimes.

But that’s neither here nor there.

Mostly, the “no public displays of affection” clause is easily disregardable. It’s typically when you’re too drunk to remember it and a bit needy, craving one another’s touch, but those around you never truly seem to care or even notice because, if you’re lucky, they’re equally as smashed. Sometimes the “no cuddles” clause blurs into a gray area where it’s simply just you and Jungkook post-sex, sprawled out in his bed, not necessarily wrapped up in one another’s arms and cooing sweet nothings to one another but giggling at nothing in particular except one another as you bask in each other’s company and nothing more. You suppose some rules are meant to be broken.

For the most part, Jungkook never seems to question the no kissing rule you were so adamant in insisting. Not until one night in which you’re left wondering where things go so drastically wrong. It starts off as normally as any other day with you and Jungkook can, spent in his apartment binge watching movies. You hadn’t expected that night to switch as suddenly as it does when Jungkook shoots you a text earlier in the day asking if you want to come to his for a night of casual drinking as simply “best friends.” But, as always, one thing seems to lead to another, and you can’t get enough of Jungkook. Maybe it’s in the way he holds you a little tighter, the way he tugs you onto his lap on the sofa in his living room, the way he grips your thighs with a certain type of insatiable desire.

“You know…” he hums. “You drive me insane. In, like, the best way possible.”

Part of you realizes his actions even without him seeming to, and the drunken smile on your face remaining frozen in place, a little dumbfounded. “Jungkook…”

“When I’m with you…” He lifts his stare to look at you, but you have nothing to say. Neither does he. Instead, you’re left grinning at one another and suddenly your face is warm. He leans towards you, his nose nuzzling against the side of your throat. Your hands stay threaded in his hair now, and he swears he feels you secure your grip as if to pull him closer.

You can feel his lips brush faintly against your skin, grazing along your neck to the underside of your jaw. Up, up, up, until━

It’s just as his mouth meets with the corner of yours that you register what he’s doing, even in your clouded state. You turn your head just in time, and he comes to an immediate halt, his lips barely making contact with your cheek instead before he pulls away. He doesn’t move very far but you also don’t push him away just yet. Instead, you shift your head to look at him, still inches apart from him.

“What are you doing?” You ask. He can’t quite tell if you’re appalled or not, an empty expression staring back at him.

“I━ You━” He fumbles over his words, squeezes his eyes shut. He blames it on the alcohol even though his head is swimming with thoughts that seem to only concern you. But then a fierceness seems to stir within him, one that makes his jaw clench as he meets your stunned stare. The question rolls off his tongue without meaning to. “Is this about Yukhei?”

“What?”

“Is that why you weren’t wearing our bracelet the other day?”

The question is so ridiculous, you have to laugh. “What are you going on about?”

But Jungkook doesn’t see what’s so funny and so he tries again, his persistence taking hold. “Is that why you won’t ever let me kiss you?”

You blink. Then, you’re shaking your head at him. Exasperation hangs heavy in your words, shaping in the form of a tired scoff. “You’re not serious.”

You’ve slithered off of his lap before he can even think to stop you ━ but if he had, would you have even stayed? You’re mad, but he doesn’t know why. “No, I wanna know. Because if what we have is already so meaningless, what makes a kiss any different?”

“Jungkook…”

“So I wanna know,” he says, brows unconsciously knitting together. His gaze is searching yours desperately, as if begging for an answer he’ll want to hear. But he knows he’s being an idiot, a small sober part in him makes him realize that. “Humour me. Have you had sex with him yet?”

“Oh my god. I can’t believe that’s what you’re on about.” Suddenly, you’re frowning. Your hardened stare meets the boy’s and the irritation that scrunches at your face makes him wince, but it’s too late for him to take back the damage that he’s done. “Yeah, Jungkook, we fucked in his stupid Toyota that you hate so much and he choked me and I liked it. He did all sorts of dirty things to me. Is that what you want to hear?” The sardonic tone hisses at his ears, but he bites back his words, the sober part in him doing some decent good by shushing him. “No, Jungkook, we didn’t fuck. We haven’t even gone on a date, and I don’t even know if I want to, and you think I’m throwing myself at him.”

“But you wanna.”

“You’re being an idiot,” You admonish. “I’m going home. Talk to me when you’re sober.”

He has just enough time to watch you turn on your heel, march towards his door, when he scrambles to his feet. The weight of his words and actions finally seem to dawn on him, hitting him harshly in the face and in the heart.

“Fuck, wait! Wait━” he gasps.

He chases after you, hand reaching out to press his palm against the door before you can shimmy it open. He’s fortunate when you turn to look at him, though your arms are folded impatiently over your chest.

“You’re right. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad,” he promises earnestly. Then, he lets out a frustrated groan. “I just… What if we… Shit, what if we stop for right now? Y’know… Hooking up. Whatever this is.”

He gestures vaguely between the two of you with his hands, a wearied look plastering his face.

You hate to admit how his words seem to affect you. They bite at the air, leave you breathless as you gawk at him, but the harsh realization of it all is that you were never his to have and he was never yours. Hoseok had been right when he said these things were bound to come to an end ━ so why did it seem to hurt you so much?

A beat of prolonged silence passes between the two of you. Jungkook runs a hand through his chaotic blonde hair, digging the heel of his palm into his temple as if to rid himself of a headache he’s no doubt sporting. Maybe you’re waiting for a better explanation, but he gives none, and you don’t feel as if you have the right to ask why. He’s not your boyfriend, for god’s sake. It’s not like he’s breaking your heart.

Instead, you take a deep breath and say, “Okay.”

“Okay.” It’s all that he says in return.

So then why does it feel like he is?

When Jungkook had promised that if your fling with him ended you would go back to being untainted best friends, he was apparently lying.

A part of you can’t believe the sheer nerve of him to ghost you in his traditional fuckboy ways, and yet he does. You suppose not entirely, at the very least. Part of it ends up with you being even more vexed by his sudden shift in emotion, and the tangible tension that rises between the two of you should have been dealt with properly, yet neither of you do anything about it, leaving your friendship stagnant and stale for a week. After all, how are you really supposed to go back to “just friends” when you’ve seen his dick one too many times?

You refrain from telling Hoseok, if only so you don’t have to hear him tell you he told you so ━ but you also decide to give Yukhei that one chance, and so you think Hoseok wouldn’t mind so much anyway.

Admittedly, when Yukhei asks to hang with you at Taehyung’s eventual party, you aren’t entirely too keen, but you accept it if only because you heard Jungkook will be there too. For the majority of the night, you don’t see the boy, and you spend the hours cozying up with Yukhei in a conversation that dulls you. As it would appear, it seems to bore Yukhei too, but you only notice that when he starts touching you on your waist and the small of your back. There’s a moment where he leans his head close enough to yours that you realize he’s trying to kiss you, resulting in an awkward encounter in which you push him away, palms on his chest.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. The answer is obvious enough to you, but you don’t think you should tell him for his own dignity. That, instead, all you can imagine is Jungkook in his place. “Should we get out of here?”

“Y/N. Can I talk to you?”

You’re both fortunate yet horrified when you hear Jungkook’s voice. He’s standing just behind you, his own stare devoid of any emotion, though his brows furrow and his jaw clenches in a signature Jungkook manner that you know means he’s pissed. He hardly acknowledges Yukhei, nodding in his general direction. You don’t remember if you leave Yukhei there or if he leaves, or if Jungkook even gives a poor attempt of an excuse to the boy, but you’ve not so much as uttered a single word or let out an exhalation of air, when Jungkook ultimately pulls you off to the side where it’s just you and him once more.

“I’m not sucking your dick in Tae’s grimy bathroom, if that’s what you want,” You scowl once Yukhei is out of earshot. “You’ve lost the privilege that is my mouth.”

“That’s not━” Jungkook shakes his head, exasperated. “That’s not what I want. I just━ I’ll take you home. Please?”

You know the offer is much more than him simply walking you the route to your dorm, which you already know like the back of your hand. Yet, you don’t argue. Truthfully, it’s a relief when Jungkook lugs you out of the party. The entire venture back to your apartment is treacherous, in the way that you’re left sobering up enough to the point that your dizzying thoughts become more coherent. Hoseok is gone for the weekend at least, spending the days with his fiance, so you don’t have to worry about humiliating yourself in front of your roommate when it comes to Jungkook.

You’ve barely made it through your front door when you’re grumbling aloud, “What do you want, Jungkook?”

“I wanna talk,” he says firmly. “About us. About Yukhei.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.” But that’s a lie. Talking to Jungkook, even despite masquerading your annoyance for him, is a blessing in disguise. You’ve missed the idiot, and hearing his voice. “Besides, you told me to give him a chance.”

“And you said you didn’t want to.”

“Maybe I changed my mind.”

“Yeah, you sure seemed like you loved it when he was trying to shove his tongue down your throat,” Jungkook retorts bitterly. “C’mon, Y/N. We both know that’s a lie.”

“You know, you’ve been a real dick lately.”

A sliver of a smirk tugs at Jungkook’s face. “I thought you love dick.”

Clearly, his poor attempt at a joke doesn’t land well with you. “Why do you even care so much if Yukhei and I get together? Stop acting so high and mighty and moral, Jungkook. It’s not like you’re some virgin saint. How many times have I heard you talk about all those girls you’ve fucked? And what was I? Just another notch in your belt this whole time?”

“What?” Jungkook gasps now, as if disbelieving you would ever think such a thing. “No! You’re not just another notch. I would never even think about you that way. And I haven’t had sex with anyone else but you this whole time and I easily could have.”

“Wow! Such a martyr,” You remark dryly. When you speak next, you meet his stare with your own crestfallen gaze. “I just want my best friend back.” Your words hurt him more than you think, but he can’t say he doesn’t deserve it. “You’re the one who tried to kiss me, then suggested we stop whatever it is we’re doing━”

Jungkook flinches. “I know.”

“Then you ignore me for days even though you promised nothing would change━”

“I know,” he says desperately. He closes the distance between the two of you, yearning to reach out and touch you. Instead, he clamps his eyes shut, trying with all his might to focus when the room feels like it’s spinning.

“And then you get mad when Yukhei tries to make a move. It’s like you’re jealous or something!”

“I am.” He can’t take it anymore. The words tumble from his lips in a rush that he hardly bothers to bite back.

“Why?”

“Because━ Because━” He struggles to form his thoughts into words, stumbling over his sentence. Fuck, he’s never like this. Even you can tell. He grits his teeth next. “I lean in to kiss you and you look at me as if I’m out of my mind. I just don’t get it. You don’t want me to kiss you but you let me put my dick in your ass.”

The taut line of your lip quivers as you break. “That was one time and you didn’t even get all the way in!”

“Y/N.” Jungkook hums now. He’s gazing at you a little softly, reaching out to place his hands on your waist. “Look, I know I’ve been an idiot. But lately, when I touch you, I fucking feel so alive and the thought of Yukhei doing anything with you when it isn’t me, who should be with you, makes me want to vomit. And when I wake up in the morning alone, I only want you next to me. And I can’t be the only one feeling that way. If I am, tell me. Right now. Please. I just wanna know why you won’t ever let me kiss you, but you let me do all sorts of things with you. Am I really that repulsive?”

Another moment of silence stifles the room. Jungkook is so close to you now, you can’t help yourself. You reach up to tug at the collar of his shirt, fingers twisting in the material as you lean your forehead out of frustration against his shoulder and he instinctively lets his arms slither around your waist, holding you to him. Then━

“No.”

“What?”

“I only made the rule because I don’t want you to kiss me unless you mean it,” You murmur into his chest. “Like really, really mean it. Like I’m more than just a notch in your belt. Because I want to kiss you so badly, and I’m already in love with you but then I’ll really be in love with you and I don’t want to get my heart broken.”

The anticipation kills you, awaiting his response. You refuse to lift your head, until you hear him grumble, “You’re so fucking stupid.”

“Me?”

The retort is filled with your typical jestering hostility as you finally look at him. But just as you do so, Jungkook’s reaching out to grasp at your face, rough hands all soft and gentle as they cradle your cheeks, guiding you towards him and smoothing his lips over yours until you melt like putty in his hands.

Kissing Jungkook, you deduce at once, is not at all how you imagined it.

It’s everything and more. You’ve felt his mouth on you before but in much different circumstances. Between your legs, on your throat, down past the valley of your breasts ━ and each kiss then had been feral, sloppy, rough. Now, it’s sweet and tender, the feeling of his lips as soft as how he makes your heart feel. And the butterflies━ god, the butterflies.

Impatient hands tug and pull at one another until you’ve both stumbled into your room and onto your bed. He’s clambered over top of you, lips struggling to not part throughout the whole ordeal, until he’s wedged himself between your thighs.

Only then does Jungkook part from you just enough in the next moment, lips brushing against yours, as he whispers ardently, “I mean it.”

Then he’s kissing the corner of your lips down to the underside of your jaw, his mouth grazing along your skin in a feathery touch. His hands help you shed your shirt, and the bra underneath. “I mean it when I kiss you here.”

Then he drops his head to your neck, kissing at the base of your throat, before nipping at it lightly. “And here.”

Your hands come to thread in his hair, tugging at the roots. He burrows his face lastly in your chest, snatching the nipple of one of your breasts between his teeth. “Here…”

You’re so soft and supple beneath his hands, all his to love and explore.

“I want you, all of you,” he mumbles. “Only you.”

“Oh, Koo…”

A pretty moan tumbles from your mouth, and he could nearly cry. He had surely thought you were far past the point of enraged, far past the point of pensive words shaped in a heartfelt apology to bring you back to him. But then hearing you rasp his name ━ the little cute nickname that only you call him ━ makes him so goddamn remorseful.

He smothers your lips with his once more, groaning into your mouth. “I’m such a fucking dick. I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” You whine.

“I’m sorry,” he laments. He bites at your lower lip, suckling against it. “Please let me make it up to you.”

“You already have.”

“But I’ve been such a shitty friend,” he groans. It’s hard to focus when he’s pressing his hips against yours, the forming bulge in his pants straining against the inside of your thigh. “I should’ve known when to stop. I shouldn’t have even suggested the whole thing in the first place, because then I wouldn’t have messed us all up.”

“Jungkook,” Your grip tightens in his hair. “Jungkook━ I want you so bad. Just wanna be yours.”

“Yeah?” His breath is warm as it fans against your neck. You rub your core eagerly against him, throbbing pussy so close to making contact with his dick.

“Yeah,” You mewl.

“What do you want from me?”

“You. Wanna feel your dick in me, please,” Your fingers tug at the top of his jeans, prodding at the muscles on his abdomen. “In my mouth. Can make you feel better, Koo, I promise. Just wanna be your good girl.”

“Mmm, I like the sound of that.”

He lets you push him until he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips. Your limbs entangle with his as you shed the rest of your clothes, your own hands wandering up and down the front of his body after he’s tossed his shirt onto the floor. Then he watches as you shimmy your way down his body. You’re so zealous in pleasing him, wrapping your hand around the base of his dick, head angry and red, dribbling pearly beads of precum down the shaft and over the bulging vein that lines it. You run your thumb over the tip and down, spreading the sticky fluid over him. He grunts in response, nearly jolting at your touch, as his head drops back against his shoulders.

“Oh, fuck,” he growls.

You pump him slowly, taking you time as your closed fist glides up and down his length. He shudders each time your hand reaches the base, and becomes so carried away with your leisure teasing that his eyes are screwed shut and misses the way you dip down to kiss at the tip of his cock. His eyes immediately flutter open, a flustered expression painting his face. You lap again at the head, saltiness coating your tongue, and you let out a simpering moan that has him quivering. And when you wrap your mouth entirely around his cock, sinking down along his length, he swears he’s about to fall apart. Your eyes flicker upward to meet him and the moment they lock, so sexy and dark, he has to look away for fear of busting right then and there. He reclines back against the bed once more, his hand flying out to grab at your hair.

“You’re so good to me, baby,” he rasps.

He can feel the curve of your lips against his cock as you suck him off. You do so well, too. Puffing your cheeks out, taking as much of him as you can until it feels as if he’s hitting the back of your throat. Then, you’ll suck at the tip of his cock, tongue swirling rapidly around, as your fist rubs his shaft. It’s a beautiful mix, one that inches him closer and closer to his high, and each time you switch he has to hold it together to not let go so soon. He wants to enjoy it, needs to bask in it. Your pretty mouth doing such sinful things, making him feel as if he were in heaven.

“Shit━” His hips jut forward to meet with your mouth, accidentally hitting the back of your throat without warning. You gag a little, but don’t pull away, and when he apologizes to you hastily, you only moan in response. A thought pops into his head that has him beckon aloud, “Will you be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth? Huh, baby?”

You hum in approval, eyes shimmering with glee.

So, he plants both hands in your hair, grabs at the sides of your head, and as you hollow out your cheeks, he bucks into your mouth. He does it again and again, listening to your crescendoing mewls of delight, forming a sticky mess of drool and cum that spills onto your chin.

“God, you’re so good,” Jungkook grunts. He’s a complete wreck, eyes screwing shut, blonde tresses spilling into his lashes. The muscles in his abdomen twitch with each sharp inhale of air he takes, so mesmerized by the shape of your pretty mouth around his dick, like you were made for him. “Such a good girl, huh?”

He fucks himself into your mouth roughly, frantically. Tears start to prick at your eyes from holding your breath, yet you keep yourself together just a little longer for him, lashes fluttering shut tightly.

“All mine too,” Jungkook hisses. “Wouldn’t let Yukhei do this to you, would you? Fuck, I’m━”

With your head left immobile stuck in his grasp, you hum in disapproval instead. You know he’s close when you start to hear him panting breathily. When he cums, it’s with a fractured whine and in short hot bursts onto your tongue and down your throat. You swallow as much as you can and, when he parts from you with a resonating lewd pop, you wipe away with your knuckles at the rest of his cum leaking out of the corner of your mouth and onto your chin. Dark hooded eyes meet with yours, a mischievous glint captivating them. You crawl over to him, straddling his hips once more, chasing his mouth with yours. Your own lips are so wet, coated in saliva and cum, bruised plump, but yet you’re smiling so innocently past the way he can taste himself on his tongue.

A dazed thought pops into your head that has you murmuring wistfully against him, “Say it again. I like hearing you call me baby.”

“Hmm? What about when I call you my good girl?” Jungkook nips at your lips. He grasps at your waist, flipping you over until you’re on your back beneath him. “You treat me so well, baby; you’re my only girl, you know that.”

A contented sigh sounds from you as you rut your hips in thinning desperation to meet his, so close to rubbing against his dick nestled against his thigh. He licks at his fingers hastily, reaching between the two of you to press against your clit, rubbing leisurely at the soft bundle of nerves. He’s learned how to navigate your body after months of supposed emotionless fucking, but now? Now, he felt as if his heart may just burst through his chest. Every reaction you make to his every touch ━ the needy plea to have him make you his, call you baby ━ makes him want to see more, and more.

“Am I?” You ask hoarsely. He grasps at his dick, guiding his tip to your core, so slick and wet, glistening with your own arousal. As he pushes himself in with a hiss, he watches as you contort beneath him. “Nnngh, Jungkook━”

“Fuuck,” he groans. He sinks into you, spreading your thighs further and further apart, until his hips make contact with yours. His mouth attacks yours with a feverish passion, the rumble of his moans and your whimpers muffling against one another. Then, he remembers to answer your awaiting question, barely audible between the way his tongue lavs at yours. “You are. I’m so fucking in love with you. But I don’t deserve you.”

Your hands tug impatiently at his hair. “Stop saying that.”

“But it’s true,” he hums. He’s quick to start rutting at your hips in a steady yet agonizing pace, dick burrowing into your pussy as your walls throb and shake. He can’t help but watch, mesmerized as always by the way his length slips past your folds and disappears into you. Again, and again, and again, so lewdly destroying your pretty cunt. “Just want Yukhei to touch you all over instead, don’t you?”

“No,” You croak.

You spread your thighs instinctively wider apart, allowing him to sink even further into you until it feels as if he’s hitting you so far in your stomach. Each roll of his hips is punctuated by the crude noise of skin against skin, sending you spiralling.

“Want him to do all sorts of dirty things to you, huh?”

“N-No. Fuck, Jungkook━ Harder, please━”

“That’s what you said,” Jungkook retorts. Still, he listens to your pleas, snapping his hips into yours roughly enough to send you jolting back on the bed. His hands start to roam your body, pinching at your hips, then grasping ferociously at one of your breasts. “Want him to fuck you in his car, right?” His palm feels like fire as it slides up past your collarbones to your throat. “Want him to choke you.”

His hand comes to wrap around the underside of your jaw on your throat, thumb and index finger pressing against the pressure points there. He squeezes, though with barely any force, just enough to feel your rapid pulse beneath his digits in a way that makes you so suddenly hyper aware of everything he’s doing to you. Cock stretching you wide, palm heavy around your throat, mouth folding over yours. So caught up in the overwhelming sensations you’re feeling, you can’t tell if he’s genuinely upset with himself, though you suspect part of him is. You can sense it in the way he clings to you a little tighter, can see it laced within his dazzling pupils.

Jungkook huffs, hair flopping into his eyes as he grits his teeth and ruts his hips faster into you if only to see more of your pretty little reactions. Your jaw unhinges at the feeling, head falling back onto the pillows. “He could probably treat you nicer too.”

You shake your head wildly, fingers digging into the skin on his shoulders. “Just want you, Koo.”

“Still?” he asks. His grip on your neck fastens a little more, pure euphoria riddling all your senses and making you writhe beneath him. “God, you’re such a dumb little slut, aren’t you?”

You nod in your groggy exhaustion, the familiar burn coiling in your stomach, making your toes curl.

Jungkook feels your own high approach. Your walls are clenched so tightly around him, he has to sputter for air. “Could he make you feel like this?”

“No, Koo,” You whine. “Only you.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook growls. “Good girl. Gonna cum around my dick like the good little slut you are?”

Your hips ricochet upwards to meet his, relentless pounding into your core. “Please, please━”

Jungkook quickens his pace until you’ve deteriorated into absolute shambles, whimpering his name after each thrust. You tumble towards your high, cuming around his length as he burrows it into you again and again, and all he can think is mine, mine, mine. As you unravel beneath him, he slides his hand off of your throat and slithers it underneath you and around your waist, hoisting you slightly enough off the bed so that he can reach his own orgasm. He’s a little more frantic now, sloppy and restless as he pummels into you.

“Shit, baby━” he cries out. “Oh, fuck, you’re so good━”

As you come down from your high enough, you somehow manage to murmur drowsily, “Cum in me, Koo. Wanna feel it.”

You grab at his face, pulling him down to catch his lips on yours, and the thought is so tempting he can’t refuse. He gets so lost in your lips, cuming with one final slam of his hips into yours and a chorus of curses mingling with your name in whimpers. He rides out both of your highs with a few half-hearted thrusts, more concerned with kissing you in useless open-mouthed kisses as your own mouth parts with one last weary moan while he fills you up.

When he’s spent, he collapses against your chest, and you collapse onto the bed. It’s quiet long enough for the both of you to calm the shrill beat of your hearts when you feel Jungkook stir, moving to part from you, pulling his dick from your swollen pussy and planting a lingering peck on your cheek. He disappears momentarily but returns a few seconds later, towel in hand which he uses to wipe at your core now leaking with his cum and your heart croons at all his tender touches.

It makes you realize all at once that, god, yes, you’re so in love with your idiot best friend and he’s so in love with you.

“Jungkook.”

He turns to look at you, an adoring smile dancing upon his lips when he sees your own radiant beaming face. You beckon him over and he relents, letting you pull him into your arms. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck as he wraps his own arms around you to tug you closer to his side. As your fingers come to rake through his sweaty hair, he cranes his neck to follow your hand and hear him coo against your neck, “That feels so good.”

A sudden thought crosses your mind that has you smirking smally to yourself. “Are we… Are we cuddling? Jungkook, I thought you didn’t like cuddling. Said it was, and I quote, sentimental bullshit.”

“I never liked it because it wasn’t with you. Didn’t wanna waste my time on someone that wasn’t you,” Jungkook hums, matter-of-fact. You can tell he’s a little embarrassed at the way you so casually taunt him about such an obvious fact, though he’s fortunate you can’t see him smiling like a complete fool. “And I wanna do all that sentimental bullshit with only you. Now, shush━” He scolds you playfully. “M’so tired and I just wanna hold you tight.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Your heart leaps in your chest. “Just promise me one thing?”

It’s only then that he lifts his sleepy gaze to find yours, apprehensive of any potentially looming severity in your words. “Anything.”

Instead, all he can find is the way you trace your finger along the details of his face, from his nose, to his cheekbones, down to the freckle under his lip with the hand that sports your friendship bracelet. “In the morning, when we wake up, you’ll still be here to hold me tight. And every other morning after that.”

His smile widens even more, if that was even possible. “Wouldn’t want it any other way. But━”

“But?”

“On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

His eyes sparkle cheekily. “Kiss me.”

So, you do, again and again and again; and Jungkook thinks, yeah, he certainly can get used to this.

It takes you a month to cave in to Jungkook’s incessant pleas to fuck you to his sex playlist. You do it mostly to humour him, though part of you is a little bit intrigued at the thought.

Stowed away in his room, he eats you out to the choruses of sultry The Weeknd and raunchy Ariana Grande songs, fucks you to the likes of the Neighbourhood and Kim Petras while you’re on all fours, and you’re only half-paying attention to the music until you hear it. Admittedly, you almost completely miss it but you blame Jungkook and the way he’s making you currently feel, sprawled out beneath him, chests pressed flush against one another in a sweaty, sticky mess, breathy and glorious moans of your name filling your ears when━

“I had no choice but to hear you. You stated your case time and again━”

The dulcet chime of Alanis Morissette thrums about the room, a complete and utter shift in contrast in the atmosphere that has you immediately pausing.

“Jungkook.” But he knows what you set out to say even before you do, judging by the tone in your voice and the stifling smirk on his face. You gawk at him, biting at your lip to hide your laughter but you fail miserably. “You weren’t joking?”

He shrugs innocently, leaving you just as dumbfounded as you were two seconds ago. Instead, he says, “Gotta do what I promised then, don’t I?”

You quirk a brow. “What was that exactly?”

“Gotta give you the best orgasm of your life.”

“If you can do that to cheesy 90s pop, I’ll have your actual babies, Jungkook.” The effort is endearing and impressive, to say the least.

A roll of your eyes is met with a taunting roll of his hips into yours that wipes the jest off your face immediately. He grins like a madman, uttering a little stupidly, and a little ardently, “Say no more.”

Because, all things considered and joking aside, he wants it with you ━ the dazed daydreamy talk of a future together and kids, friendship bracelets, and cuddles in the morning. Because you mean the world to him and more. Because you’re his best friend, and he’s so madly in love with you.

Because he wants it all with you.

⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

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[hisunshiine]

To All The Men I’ve Fucked Before ; (M) jjk

↣ When your secret 'sex' journal entries are somehow texted to the people they were written about, including a couple of coworkers and your best friend, you find your quiet work existence turned upside down. based off of TATBILB.

moodboards | playlist | Netflix ReImagined BTS Masterlist | TATMIFB masterlist 

↳ #NetflixReImaginedBTS: Jeon Jungkook x Reader starring in a fake dating au, photographer!JK, stylist!Reader

⟢ pairing: photographer!jungkook x stylist!reader

⟢ word count: 30.7k

⟢ genre + warnings: nsfw 18+, fake relationship, smluff © & angst, kissing, fluffy fake relationship cuteness, jealousy, jungkook needs help with feelings, clothed humping, explicit sexual content in the form of unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, body worship, cunnilingus, fingering, handjob, hickies, blowjob, creampie, begging, strip tease if you squint, baby petname, crying, feelings of heartbreak, oh did i mention angst? namkook fist fight, minimal arguing, minimal blood, other idols make brief appearances, OT7 is present 

⟢ summary: When your secret 'sex' journal entries are somehow texted to the people they were written about, including a couple of coworkers and your best friend, you find your quiet work existence turned upside down. based off of the netflix film and novel by jenny han, but different.

⟢ an: hello, hello! this is probably my favorite story to date that i’ve written and the longest one shot! I am so grateful to everyone who helped me by reading this (most are not on tumblr), but especially my baby hana, @taestulip​, who always reads and hypes me up. the movie/book series it’s based off of is honestly one of my faves, and turning it into an adult version was a lot of fun! I know i took out some characters and changed a lot of the plot devices, but for good reason, as it is it’s own novel, I did not want to encroach on that territory. fake dating au’s are some of my absolute faves and so i hope you enjoy this! sorry for the length, sksksks.

⟢ prologues: NJ & Reader | Love Triangle (coming soon) |

The large glass building was located on the corner of the block, in the heart of the city. A sight to see from all corners of the downtown area, you loved that you worked at BigHit Music. Of course, housing the globally recognized idol duo, SeoulM8, made working there fun. You walked into the building, and swiped your badge as you made your way through the secured entrance and up the elevator to your office. 

The gold plaque on your door highlighted your name and position. To this day you’re still in awe to see your name engraved in sans serif with the words “Lead Wardrobe Stylist” written beneath it. You entered the office, flipping on the lights and smiling at the large board along the back wall. It was covered with the designs you would need for the upcoming shoot for SeoulM8’s fan content, first single off their newest album, and plans for the concert wardrobe as well. 

Placing your empty insulated coffee tumbler on your desk, you set down all of your belongings, organizing your design tablet, notebook, and favorite writing utensils before once again taking the tumbler in hand. A cup of coffee would be perfect to start your busy Monday before your meeting with Jimin and Taehyung about their wardrobe later today. 

Walking into the employee lounge area, you set about making your coffee. Others walked in and out, dropping off packed lunches and grabbing coffee as well, so you can’t help but hear the gossip as two of the women who work with SeoulM8 discuss the latest office drama.

“I can’t believe it. She broke up with him!” Becca said, her colorful pixie cut swaying slightly as she shook her head.

“She’s crazy, Jungkook is gorgeous; have you seen his thighs?” Theresa responded, twirling her dark purple curls in wonder.

You stirred in the caramel creamer slowly, listening to their conversation. Jeon Jungkook and Jeon Somin (no relation) had been dating for almost as long as you could remember. It was surprising to hear that they were broken up. 

“Somin is really pretty too, though, she could have any guy… What if that’s what it was?”

“You think someone better than Jungkook came along and wooed her?”

“I mean… I swore I heard a rumor that she went out on a date with one of the actors, but who knows. All we know for sure is that Jungkook is single.” 

Finishing your coffee, you closed the lid to your favorite cup and left the room, smiling politely to Becca and Theresa who provided you with the information that had your head reeling. The entire walk back to your office, and even once you were seated at the desk, you couldn’t stop thinking about Jungkook and Somin.

Somin was one of the first friends you made at BigHit School for Music and Artists when you transferred in after completing your AA requirements at another university. BHSMA operated differently than traditional universities, converting students to employees at the company associated with the school. It was where you met Jungkook, Jimin, and a few other people that you worked closely with at the company. After that first year though, you grew apart from some of the people you spent that entire first year with, making new friends, like the one walking in through your office door.

So lost in thoughts of the past, you almost knocked over your perfectly made coffee onto your design tablet, where you had been sketching aimlessly. A dimpled smile was the cause of your quickly beating heart, complimenting the face of Namjoon, who startled you when he called your name loudly.

“Joon, I swear, one day, you will be the death of me, and my electronics.”

“Listen, you dropped your phone all on your own, no one told you to be scared when I walked into the room.”

“Stop being so fucking loud when you enter, you startle people!”

He just laughed, his pretty eyes disappearing as he expelled joy. Namjoon was glowing, his tanned skin looking healthy and youthful. You couldn’t help but smile at him as he pushed his falling platinum hair out of his dark eyes and set his gaze on you.

“I think I’m gonna do it today, Y/N.”

You froze, smile still on display, but a little less enthusiastic than when he had first walked in.

“Do it?” You asked, wary as you saw his hand drift to his inside coat pocket.

“I love her, Y/N. I think I’m gonna ask her to be mine, always.” Namjoon removed a small velvet box from his pocket and you reached for it, hand trembling slightly. Namjoon, in his excitement, was oblivious to the way you shook, as well as the sound of your heart splintering. “Do you think Jennie will like it?”

Looking at the ring tucked into the box, you nodded, not trusting your voice. Of course Jennie would. It was beautiful. A rose gold band with an opulent Moonstone set in the middle, and two smaller diamonds set on either side. You knew that the moonstone was Joon’s favorite, he talked about how much he loved the moon countless late nights that you would sit with him in his studio.

“It’s gorgeous, Namjoon.” You said quietly. This time, he noticed the tremble of your voice, and stood worriedly from where he was perched on the corner of your desk.

“Whoa, what’s wrong?” He asked you, concerned by your demeanor.

“Nothing, I’m just so happy for you.” You lied, tilting your head back to blink away the forming tears. Believing you, he enveloped you into a hug and you hugged him back tightly, afraid to let go.

“Ah, you have a meeting soon and I’m here making you cry… I’ll see you after and tell you how it went! Good luck, Y/N!”

Namjoon exited your office, footsteps light as he headed towards his future… and away from you. Sinking into your chair, you take several steadying breaths in order to settle your heart. Why did it hurt so much? You had given up on the idea of you and Namjoon a long time ago. This wasn’t what you expected to have to deal with when you arrived to work, but you were a professional. Wiping your smudged eyeliner to clean up your makeup, you looked down at your design tablet, where you see the sketch of a professional camera held by a large hand up to a large doe eye half finished on your screen. 

Hitting the “new” button, you begin to draw anew on a clean canvas creating the concept for the concert design for your meeting with SeoulM8 later on.

—

Sitting at home, you massaged the soles of your feet as you rested on your couch with your younger sister, Yuna, who was doing her homework at the coffee table. It had been a long day, but Jimin and Taehyung loved your idea for their concert concept: young guys traveling Seoul for group songs, and angelic, soft individual images of them with feathered outfits to match their solo songs. 

“Yuna… Namjoon is getting engaged today.”

Your sister stopped working, turning to look at you with eyes wide. She had been diligently studying for the cosmetology courses she was taking at your alma mater in hopes of getting hired at the same company as you. This news threw her off track.

“What? He—wait, what?”

You nodded, letting out a deep sigh as you turned towards the floor to ceiling windows in the living room. Rain was steadily falling, the perfect backdrop to your mood.

“Both of our dreams are shattered. He showed me the ring and said he was proposing today. To Jennie.”

Yuna flung herself onto the couch dramatically. 

“Can we please drink to drown our sorrows? This homework can wait.” 

You nodded, turning on Netflix before getting up to grab the wine and glasses. While you stood on tiptoe at the edge of the counter, reaching up into the tall cabinet for the long stemmed glasses, the doorbell to your apartment rang.

“I’ll get it!” Yuna yelled, and so you clambered onto the counter, knees digging into the marble as you finally managed to reach your goal. 

“Oh! Namjoon?”

You almost slipped from where you were perched, confused as to why your newly engaged best friend would be loudly squelching his tennis shoes into your apartment and not ravishing his fiancee. You expected a text or call about the engagement, not a personally delivered update. 

You wouldn’t be able to pretend this time. 

Turning to look at the entryway, you see a downtrodden and sopping wet Namjoon, eyes rimmed red from crying.

“Joonie?” Your voice was soft, questioning. He maneuvered across the kitchen with just three big steps and pulled you into his arms. His body slotted between your thighs where you sat on the counter after almost falling, and he let loose a sob that broke your heart even more than earlier.

“Joon, what happened?” You asked, scared.

“J-Jennie… she said no.” Your eyes widened in shock, but you waited patiently for him to continue. “She’s moving to Japan, she took that expansion position… She broke up with me.”

—

It was a long night to say the least. 2 wine glasses turned into 3 once Namjoon had shown up. You grabbed some of his spare clothes for him to change into, threw his stuff in the washer, and joined Yuna and him back in the living room where they had both curled up and began watching The Start Up on Netflix. 

Climbing onto the couch, you wrapped your arm around him and placed your head on his shoulder. He kissed your forehead before settling in to watch TV, and you couldn’t help the way your heart reacted to it. He had always been affectionate with you during your time as best friends, though it had lessened some the more serious he and Jennie became. The difference now was that this time, he was single. A part of you hoped it could mean more in the future. 

By episode 2, Namjoon was asleep on Yuna’s shoulder; no surprise considering how tired he must have been. He had cried on his way to your apartment, and the last of his tears onto your shirt when he arrived. Luckily, you hadn’t yet changed out of your own work clothes, so when you grabbed his garments, you took the opportunity to change into a spaghetti strap tank and sweatpants for couch cuddling. You turned off the TV as you untangled yourself from him, stretching as he roused slightly from your movements. 

“Don’t you two just look like the sweetest couple,” you say yawning, gently teasing your sister who was beet red from your words. Her crush on Namjoon was nothing new, but not something she wanted him to know about. She already knew she was too young for him; seen as nothing more than his best friend’s little sister. A part of Yuna was jealous that you had better chances with him than she did.

“Shut it!” Her whisper is harsh, but Namjoon slept on, unaware of the sisterly teasing. “I already know you’re gonna write all about this in your sex book!” 

You rolled your eyes, having forgotten about your old journal that you kept. You just shrugged, leaning down to gently wake Namjoon so you can put him to bed.

“Come on sleepy… Let’s get up and go to bed okay?” 

His large frame shuffled across the living room and down the hallway to your room. You heard him plop heavily on your bed, probably already asleep without having pulled back the covers. You put the empty wine glasses into the sink and straightened up the living room a tiny bit before you went to your room as well. 

Not yet ready for bed, you sat at your desk with the small lamp on, staring at the old journal your sister reminded you about. The image on the front is faded; you can barely make out what it used to be as you’ve covered it with doodles and stickers that are peeling at the edges. Opening it, you turned through the pages, taking in the lengthy entries about the boys you’ve slept with, starting with the one you lost your virginity to. 

Your finger grazed across the fancy calligraphy where you wrote his name at the top in a purple gel pen in. Jeon Jungkook. You laughed at the way you wrote about him, first describing him as a person before giving the intimate details of the experience, and finally ending it with a brief message of what you had wanted to say to him. Your eyes scanned the page, certain sentences catching your attention as you read it. 

“...and the way he held my neck when he first entered me, I think I’m in love.”

“He said it was his first time too. Does this mean something?”

“Jungkook, having you as my first… I want you to be my last. You looked at me as if the galaxies were reflected in my eyes. I want to feel the way you make me feel all the time. I hope that this does change things between us, but in a good way.”

You cringe a little, remembering how it didn’t turn out that way. Instead, after that night 5 years ago, you didn’t talk to Jungkook for a couple of days due to exam week. You texted him after your last test and he told you to come over; he wanted to talk to you about something too. But when you went to his dorm to see him and confess, you found him with Somin, your best friend at the time. They weren’t doing anything outrageous, just sitting on his twin bed in his dorm room talking, but you heard what she was saying through the door that was cracked.

Somin was confessing. You had no idea that she liked him too. It made your heart tight knowing that he had slept with you a week prior, and now your best friend was confessing to him. To be fair, neither of you had told the other about your feelings towards him. So instead of walking in and telling him how you felt, you left. He had texted you later asking what happened to you coming over but you lied, saying you had gotten busy. 

On the last day of the semester, Somin shared that she was dating Jungkook. Shocked and heartbroken, you wasted no time packing up your dorm for the summer and traveling home. Phone calls, texts, and plans to meetup became less frequent between your group of friends over the following semester until they eventually stopped. Did you stop talking to Jungkook and Somin… or was it them that stopped talking to you? 

Turning the pages, you move on from the thoughts of the photographer and stop at the next blank page. Grabbing a blue gel pen from the cup on your desk, you write with flair. 

Kim Namjoon.

How do I even begin to express how I feel about you? God, you make my heart flutter. I met you at a time when I needed someone. You were the bane of my existence at first, blasting your loud music from the apartment under mine. Going to yell at you turned out to be the best thing. You turned out to be the best thing. Of course, you had just started going out on dates with Jennie and you would be graduating a year ahead of me, but I knew that we would stay best friends. I mean, most BHSMA students intern at and get hired by the company. So for the longest time, I hid my feelings from you. That one night, before you and Jennie were exclusive… when we had sex, I thought my heart would burst. I never wanted a man so badly before that night. You are the moon in my sky, Kim Namjoon. What other body could pull an entire ocean from shore to shore? What other being could wrap me in love from beginning to end? Tonight you have just lost your moon. I am a terrible person because a part of me is happy to not be losing her moon. So now, I will climb into bed next to your sleeping body and hold you close as we sleep, and pray when the morning comes, in the light of the day, you will open your eyes and see me—the faint moon in the sky that has always been there for you. Maybe you will finally see me—and decide you want me too.

Setting the pen down, you reach for your phone. In your slightly drunken state, you decided to take pictures of each entry, in order to move these to a more secure environment and take your journal digital. You snapped a picture of each page (not that there were many) before you checked your phone for messages and plugged it in. You left your room to shut down all the lights now that Yuna was finished putting away her stuff and making her way to bed as well. 

“Hey, can I grab an extra notebook from your stash? I need to finish taking these notes on mixing hair colors.”

“Sure, it’s under the desk in the blue bin.”

She nodded and you continued past her, double checking the door to make sure it was locked before moving to throw Namjoon’s clothes into the dryer. Once satisfied that the house was in order, you went to your room. Yuna was standing over your desk, eyes reading your latest entry into the journal.

“Yuna! Get out!”

“This is beautiful though, he should see it. You need to tell him how you feel!” 

You shook your head.

“No. He just got his heart broken. It’s not the time to tell him.”

“You’re stubborn,” she whispered back at you, “you’re gonna lose him again!”

“Then that’s how it was destined to be. But I am not taking advantage of his vulnerable state.”

“You’re gonna be single forever. Spending every night with your baby sister, drinking wine because all the men you have ever loved have moved on!”

“Go to bed, Yuna!”

She shrugged as she walked out of the room, knowing that she was right. Deep down, a part of you felt like she was right too. 

Climbing into bed, you struggled to lift the covers over Namjoon’s slumbering frame before it pulled free and you could cover the two of you. As you settled into the bed next to him, he instinctively wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to his chest in his sleep. 

You knew that his dreams were imagining Jennie in his arms instead. 

—

That next morning, you checked Namjoon’s phone for his calendar. Having known him for several years, you know his passcode and that he keeps his work schedule exclusively on his cell. Typing in the code, 0613, you saw that his calendar stated that he didn’t need to go to the office until around noon. 

Lucky, you thought, eyeing the time on the phone. It was a little past 6:45am, and you had to wake your sister for her hands-on class before you got ready for the day. 

“Yuna! It’s almost 7,” you say as you knocked on her door and heard a muffled response. You headed back to your room and chose your outfit, knowing that the day would be busy and long with the concept photoshoot for SeoulM8 starting today. Choosing your outfit wisely, you climbed into the shower a few minutes later and spent at least a half hour just trying to cure the small hangover from the wine. 

Once dressed, you found Yuna packing her bag for class. It was getting close to 8, which is the latest that you could leave to be at work on time, so you wrote a quick note to Namjoon and ran back to leave it on the bed. His hand snaked out of the covers just as you were pulling your hand back, a gentle grip to your wrist holding you there.

“Y/N, thank you for last night.” His voice is like a bullfrog’s croak, and you chuckled. 

“Let me get you some water and some pain meds, okay? And of course Joonie, I’m here for you.” You leaned onto the bed with one knee, smoothing his hair back from his face once he’s released your wrist. “Always.”

Pressing your lips to his warm forehead, he pulled you down onto the bed with a hug and you can’t help but laugh.

“I’ve got to go! I’ll see you later, okay?” He nodded before he grips your neck, bringing his lips to your forehead this time. His lips linger longer than usual, and you shut your eyes at the tenderness of his kiss. 

“Go back to sleep, now.” You pulled away from him, going to grab the medicine and water before you and Yuna leave the apartment. 

—

You made it to work with extra time to make your coffee, so after you dropped off all of your extra stuff, you grabbed your tumbler and work tablet with all of your drawn designs for today’s shoot and made your way through the busy halls to the employee lounge. Today, the door was propped open for ease as it was a busier day in the building. 

You stood at the counter, stirring in the caramel creamer that you loved, when you felt a presence enter the room behind you.

“Y/N.”

Turning lazily, you cocked your eyebrow at Jungkook, who was standing awkwardly behind you. He had kicked the doorstop, allowing the door to close so that the two of you stood alone in the small staff kitchen. His hands were tucked into his joggers, while a white button down hung loosely from his frame. 

“Whats up JK?” You asked, expecting him to address something about the shoot. You hadn’t yet seen the men you were to dress, so you couldn’t fathom he was here to complain already about the costuming. “If it’s about the wardrobe, I haven’t even seen Tae or Jimin yet, so—”

“Actually, no. Um,” he rubbed the back of his neck before making eye contact with you, “I know that when we had sex that one time, it was great—”

Instantly, alarm bells went off in your head. What the actual fuck was Jungkook doing talking about the night you lost your virginity to each other?

“—but I just... don’t feel the same way that you do about me. You know? That was years ago, and yeah while it was just as good for me as it was for you, I’m not in love with you or anything, I just broke up with Somin too, so—”

“Jungkook! Wait—what are you talking about?”

“The text you sent me.”

“Jungkook, I haven’t texted you in weeks.” You looked down at the phone you had pulled out of the back pocket of your ripped black jeans, and opened up the messages. You noticed his text thread was now at the top. “Wait, what?”

Opening his specific thread you see the screenshot of the page from your journal that you took last night, sent to him. How the fuck did this happen? In your drunken state, did you send it to him? You begin to ramble as you throw the spoon in the sink with a loud clunk and begin screwing the lid on the coffee.

“Jungkook, stop. That was from a long time ago, it’s not recent at all, oh my god. I am so sorry you had to read that—you know what, I’m just gonna head to the set now. Okay, bye!” You breezed past him, feet carrying you out of the employee lounge with a swiftness. Once back in your office you stared at the horrid message, outraged at yourself for your drunken antics.

Drunk you must really hate sober you.

—

Work was just as hectic as you thought it was going to be. After the most embarrassing morning, you were summoned right away to a last minute meeting with Jimin and Tae, where you made minor changes to their wardrobe. 

“Y/N, you were always good at this in school, but damn. You are amazing now.” Jimin stared at you reflected in the mirror after you had turned his outfit into something fit for the concept with a few movements of the material that wrapped his body. Park Jimin, one of the few people you were still somewhat close with from that first year of school, was now a big shot idol, and one-half of SeoulM8. Kim Taehyung, his best friend, was the other part of the duo. He had met him after everyone split off after that first year. Going by the stage names Jimin and V, the two had met in their vocal lesson classes when Taehyung had switched his major, and BigHit saw potential in them. 

You walked with Jimin towards the set of the photo shoot, one of the bigger production rooms today due to the use of the second level. They would be posing next to a hole in the floor, feathers falling around them. Taehyung was already antsy to get started, and was playing around with Somin, who was one of the group’s managers, while he waited for Jimin to arrive back to the set. Now, it looked like the only person missing was the photographer. 

Walking to the fold out table set up at the back wall, you heard your phone chime. Opening to your messages, you saw a text from someone you hadn’t talked to in a while. 

“Seo Joon?” You question quietly to yourself, but before you could even read the message, you saw a similarly embarrassing photo above his reply.

“Oh God, oh God...” You clicked out of his message thread, ignoring the reply because you honestly didn’t care. What you actually cared about was if you had somehow sent the most recent entry of your journal to the last person on Earth who was ready to read it. Namjoon.

“Fuck. Oh no. Oh no.” Sitting there, you saw the message clear as day with the small read receipt that it indeed had been read by him. The door to the set opened and Jungkook came waltzing through with his assistant. Before the door had a chance to swing closed all the way, you saw Namjoon’s form enter the room. 

“Alright, let’s get started!” Jungkook’s voice was loud and called everyone’s attention except for Namjoon. His eyes were on you. He beelined your way, and you readied yourself to apologize to him, but before either of you could say anything, Jungkook interrupted.

“Hey Joon, good to see you hyung! I’m so sorry though, we got a closed set and need to get started… tight time schedule and all.”

“I just need to talk to Y/N.”

Jungkook took in Namjoon’s demeanor; eyes red, hair disheveled, voice wobbly. It was so unlike Namjoon to look this way that Jungkook looked at you before speaking. Your expression was confusing to Jungkook, as he knew Namjoon was your best friend. Your eyes were wide in fear with tears forming… when you didn’t say a word, Jungkook took charge. A part of him saw that fear in your eyes and wanted to protect you.

“Look Joon-hyung, normally I wouldn’t mind, but we need Y/N on set the entire time today. Wardrobe is important for concept photos, you can understand right? Maybe at break time or something?”

Namjoon nodded as Jungkook’s arm wrapped around your waist and he led you away from the table and back towards where the staging was set. When you finally chanced a look back, you saw the assistants leading Namjoon and a few other non-essential workers out of the room. Everyone else on set had watched the exchange between the three of you, including Somin. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the way Jungkook’s fingers curled around your frame.

At break time, you hid out, avoiding Namjoon who had, reluctantly, waited several hours until break was called. He would have to go into the studio soon, which you knew since you saw his calendar, and after the short 30 minute break, Jungkook retrieved you from the small side room you were hiding in when they resumed the next set of shots using black leather and wings. 

The shoot kept your thoughts off of the incident, as you so aptly decided to call it in your head, until it was time to leave. You walked out with a large group, stealthily making it to your office. You sat on the floor with your back to the door, reviewing how many received these drunken messages of yours, happy to see that only 3 actually went through, since most of them were no longer in your phone anymore or had changed their numbers. 

Park Seo Joon, an ex from your second year at BHSMA, had moved to Japan for work, and while he did respond, he figured it was a mistake and as the smart person he was, he noticed the date in the corner and was aware that it was old. You breathed a sigh of relief, glad to have avoided that potentially awkward scenario.

Hearing your phone ping, you checked the message and saw it was Jungkook. A series of messages came in from him, and you read them in succession.

Shaking your head, you stand, grabbing the white outfits from the rack an assistant had brought in earlier after the set change. Throwing them over your arm, you head off to the set in a rush, shooting back a quick text to let him know you were coming.

Most everyone from earlier was back on set, expressions showcasing various stages of irritation. You handed the clothing to an unusually quiet Somin, and lifted your now free arm to wave at the artists. Somin walked away, throwing quiet looks over at you and Jungkook, who you were standing near now that you had approached the table. Jungkook was leaning on that same table, arms crossed as he reviewed the printout of what was needed.

“You know they sent us an updated list 2 hours after we started shooting? While we were all here, they thought that we could somehow read their minds. Then when I uploaded and sent the file over to have them double check, they responded that we had to finish it tonight.”

“It’s annoying for sure, JK, but you know Jimin and Tae will deliver. Once they’re dressed I bet we’ll be done in like 15 minutes, max.”

He nodded, smiling at your optimism.

“Hey, are you gonna tell me what earlier was about? With Namjoon hyung?”

You froze, not expecting the question, but you were saved from having to answer right then, since Namjoon walked in at that moment. It was too late for you to go anywhere; you were standing too close to the door, trapped between the table and Namjoon, who looked hurt. Jungkook read the situation and took several steps away to give you some privacy with Namjoon. 

“You’ve been avoiding me all day. After that message—did you think that I wouldn’t read it? I just broke up with Jennie, Y/N, it’s… I’m not… You can’t just say this shit to me right now.”

“Namjoon—I didn’t mean to, I was drunk and I promise you it’s not what you think, I don’t feel that way, okay?” You try and take it all back, wishing more than anything that he hadn’t read what you had written the previous night. 

“You don’t feel that way? Are you kidding me? I read it!”

“No, I don’t feel that way, okay? I’m with someone else.” You lied. You hoped that he would buy it.

“Y/N, I’m your best friend. Don’t you think I would know?”

“Yeah, you're my best friend, but you and Jennie are always together, it’s been forever since we actually caught up, so yes, it’s recent okay?”

“Who are you dating then?”

You say the first name that popped into your head. The person closest to you.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“I don’t believe it.” His words come out harsh, and a part of you, the part that already feels like shit because Namjoon chose to be with Jennie a couple of years ago, lashes out in hurt.

“Why? Cause someone like him could never date someone like me?”

“Yes, Y/N. You guys are too different!” His voice was getting louder, and you knew that you had to do something in order to get him to believe your lie. So you do the only thing you can think of in your heated state. You take the several steps needed to cross the space between you and Jungkook, who looked up from where he was absorbed into his phone. 

“You ready?” he asked, looking down at your small frame. 

“Yeah baby, I’m ready.” Your hand snaked behind his head, and firmly grasping his neck, you leaned up on tiptoes as you pulled his mouth toward yours. You kissed him, and in his surprise, his free hands gripped your waist and he pulled you closer to him, before you were separating from him, slightly breathless. His grip tightened before it rested gently on your hip and you settled back onto your heels. 

You see the back of Namjoon’s coat trail behind him as he disappeared out the doors, pulling them shut loudly behind him.

You look back up at Jungkook, whose fingers squeeze your sides quickly to grab your attention.

“You’re definitely gonna have to explain after that kiss... baby.” 

—

Later that evening, you sat with Jungkook in his car. A black Mercedes Benz GT63S to be exact, with dark grey leather and a small bit of wood grain along the spacious dashboard. Your fingers trailed along the wood grain as you explained to Jungkook what happened, starting with the accidental drunk text messages, leading up to the reason behind your kiss. 

“So now what?” Jungkook asks, looking sideways over at you.

“I don’t know. I feel so stupid.”

“Look, Y/N… I think this could be mutually beneficial.”

You meet his eyes, a look of incredulity across your face.

“Please explain Jeon.”

“Look, earlier when I stepped in and kicked hyung off set, Somin was already eyeing the way we were behaving. She may or may not have texted me about it. Of course, I told her we were broken up, so she didn’t need to concern herself with my business. And then, when we came back to set, she made a face when they asked me to text you to come back too.” He smirked.

“I may or may not have peeped it, and may or may not have used it to my advantage. Of course, you kissing me definitely helped.” He glanced down at his phone as it lit up. Once again a message from Somin tiled above 17 other messages from her. He had been actively ignoring them while the two of you talked.

“So I say that we date.”

“We what?”

“Date. I can teach Somin a lesson about how to treat me and you can keep hyung off your back.”

“Teach Somin? I thought she broke up with you?”

“It was mutual. But this always happens. And I for one am tired of the back and forth. So this can teach her that other people want me, and I can move on, or she can stop with the drama and we stop breaking up every other week.”

You nodded. It sounded like a feasible plan, and you told him as much.

“So it’s agreed. We’re now together.”

“Not so fast, Jeon… I think we should have a backstory, get some things straight, set some rules.”

“Rules, Y/N? You sure know how to take the fun out of it.”

You rolled your eyes.

“When did we start dating?” you asked, ignoring his snide comment.

“We got together… at the beginning of the week. Somin and I broke up 2 weeks ago, though we didn’t make it public because she always does this shit...” he trailed off, before smiling back at you. “So yeah, let’s say we’ve been talking here and there everytime me and Somin would break up, and then we went on a couple dates during that first week we broke up and made it exclusive this week.”

You commit this to memory, then pull out your tablet and begin jotting it down with the stylus.

“Okay, so this is new, but we’ve been on each other’s radar for a bit. I think that’s believable, especially since we’ve known each other just as long as you and Somin have. How do you plan to make her jealous? It has to seem real, you know?”

“Trust me, she already thinks this is real,” he nods to his phone again, now at 28 unread messages from Somin, “so I think something that we can do is start arriving together. Maybe do little things for each other that are cute coupley things, be seen together. Kiss at work. Maybe I can sleep over a few nights or you at mine?” He winks at you.

“I thought you didn’t see me that way, Jeon.” You looked down at the tablet, furiously scribbling what he said in order to avoid looking at him and showing the way he caused your cheeks to warm.

“I said I wasn’t in love with you, babe, not that I wasn’t interested in sleeping with you again.”

“Yeah, well that’s off the table Jeon. This isn’t real.”

He just wagged his eyebrows at you seductively, but you laughed and moved on from it, reviewing the list you wrote out.

You made sure to underline number seven so he could see it easily. 

“And when does this end?” You asked.

“Um, I don’t know. I guess we just play it by ear. Let it be natural. Obviously not too early or too late, and it should be mutual. I mean, if Somin learns her lesson, we would obviously have to end things, but I don’t see that happening sooner than a month.”

“Okay,” you tilt your head, thoughtfully, “So we can re-examine this in like a month then.”

“So is this like a contract or what?” he jokes. “Want me to sign it?”

“Sure,” you say, playing along and offering him the stylus. He took it from your hand and signed his signature, and then handed you back the pen, gesturing for you to sign as well. You followed suit, a quiet chuckle as you saved the page to your tablet’s files.

“Wanna drive me home, boyfriend?”

—

Dating Jungkook was… interesting, to say the least. You were a little surprised when he texted you the next morning asking what your coffee order was, and you weren’t expecting him to be so punctual when he pulled up to your apartment. But as you and Yuna exited the apartment that morning, he was already parked at the curb, music a little too loud for the early morning transit, but you were thankful nonetheless. 

“Why are you taking us?” Yuna asked in her very blunt manner. She, of course, had heard of Jungkook, more so due to your falling out with Somin, but Jungkook took her question in stride.

“Because I’m dating your sister.” 

He handed you an iced caramel latte with a soft smile that you couldn’t help but return. Jungkook looked stunningly handsome, hair floofed to your desired preference and an all black outfit to match. His pants were the perfect fit to his well-toned body and the black bomber jacket gave him a bad boy edge that was softened by his doe eyes.

Yuna coughed, choking on her strawberry flavored poptart as you turned to look out the window. Yuna, seated behind you, hit the back of your seat.

“You’re dating him? And you didn’t tell me?”

“I wanted to be sure it was going to work out this time… He and his ex used to be on and off a lot and I didn’t want to tell you if they got back together.” You answer, mixing the truth into it.

“Ohhhh, I see. You a player Jeon? Gonna break my sister’s heart?” Yuna eyed him, pupils narrowed as they stared at him. 

He cleared his throat, not expecting to have to defend himself against the small pitbull in the backseat.

“Not planning on it, Yuna.” Jungkook reached over and took your hand into his large one, interlocking your fingers before he kissed the back of your hand sweetly as he released the brakes and pulled off. 

Walking into the BigHit building, Jungkook held the door open for you before placing his hand in the back pocket of your black skinny jeans as you walked to the elevator. You wore a black knit sweater that fell slightly off the shoulder, and you knew it looked like you two had coordinated outfits. His other hand held the strap of the backpack he had slung over his shoulder while you clutched your coffee and your bag. 

You started to walk off towards your office once you made it to your floor, but Jungkook’s hand on your ass pulled you back towards him. He leaned down to your ear, whispering quietly.

“Where are you off too in such a hurry?”

“Um, my office… why?”

“Come with me to mine first, let me drop off my bag and I'll walk you back.”

“Oh-kay?” 

Letting his pocketed hand guide you, you fell in step with him down the hallway. You passed several other people, including Jin, an actor signed to the company who was known for his gossip, who nodded their hellos to Jungkook before ducking their heads together or reaching for their phones. It felt like high school all over again. Jungkook removed his hand from the warmth of your ass in order to open his office door, to which he then pulled you inside. Closing the door, he backed you into it rather loudly. The windows in the door are frosted, but you knew that pressed to it like this, anyone who looked could see your outline against it. 

Jungkook pushed his body into yours, lips following suit as his hands found purchase on your hips. He kissed you languidly, the mint from his toothpaste clashed with your coffee, though not unpleasant. You kissed him back, enjoying the feel of his soft pout as it glided to your neck. He wasted no time in latching on, suckling your neck for a few seconds before he pulled away with a loud smacking noise. 

“I must say, we put on quite the show this morning. My roommate was out there, and he will definitely have everyone talking about our PDA.” He grinned, eyes still glued to your neck. “Once that hickey sets in, it will really be the talk of the town.”

You blinked, finally coming back to your senses. Of course. This was all a part of the plan. Jungkook stepped away from you, moving to put away his belongings in his office. You stepped away from the door, looking around as you willed your body to cool down. That kiss had been quite an experience, and you yourself had gotten carried away with the plan. 

Turning on the spot, you notice all the different camera equipment lining the walls, the beautiful still photography of various buildings throughout the city, but the most surprising was a photo from the first year you had all met. The picture had you, Jungkook, Somin, Jimin, and a few other friends in it; smiles wide as you stood at the fairgrounds you attended, ferris wheel lighting up the sky behind you. You walked towards it, taking in how carefree you looked, arms wrapped around Jungkook’s waist and his arms thrown over your and Somin’s shoulders, who was making the peace sign with both hands at her eyes. Jimin was making a silly face, arm wrapped around Somin’s waist. Simpler times.

You moved on, turning to the small polaroid camera and you couldn’t help but grab it. Turning, you snapped a photo of Jungkook, who was caught off guard. You took the developing film from the camera and set it down on his desk as he smiled at you.

“Hmm, that’s a good idea. Let me take a few photos of you, I can place them around my office.”

You tried to reject his idea, but he takes the photos anyways, pinching your cheeks and tickling you until he gets what he wants. Finally, 6 clicks later, he stood next to you, facing the camera to the two of you before he said your name softly. You looked up at him, and he surprised you with a kiss. That 7th click captured a kiss, and he placed that one in the back of his phone case.

“You are such a… a lover, Jeon.” You say, pointing at his phone. He shrugged, ignoring your jab.

“It’s something Somin always wanted me to do… I never did though. So seeing this will piss her off.”

You nodded, understanding. Everything he did had a purpose for getting at Somin in some way, shape, or form. You chided yourself that you would do well to remember that. 

—

Lunch was a whole new ball game. Used to sitting with Namjoon and Jennie, or some of your assistants, you were now eating lunch with Jungkook, who ate in the employee cafeteria. You followed his request to meet him there and stood in the doorway lost until you heard his voice call out to you.

Noting his waving hand, you wove through the circular tables until you reached the one he was at with Jimin, Taehyung, Jin, and Yoongi, a producer friend that you knew through Namjoon.

All of the seats were taken, but before you could stand there looking out of place, Jungkook scooted his chair out and all but pulled you onto his lap. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he nuzzled into your neck, breathing in your clean scented perfume and strawberry shampoo.

“Get a room, JK.” Yoongi said, face contorted with a mock look of disgust.

“What? She’s just so cute and warm.” His fingers drifted towards the hem of your sweater and disappeared up into the material, cold fingers pressed against the soft skin of your belly and you shivered with a giggle, pushing his ice box hands away.

“You’re cold as fuck, Jesus Jeon! Were you hanging out in a freezer?”

“You could say that...” Taehyung laughed while elbowing Jimin, and you raised an eyebrow at them, wanting in on the joke, too.

“He was reviewing pictures with us and our managers.” Jimin clarified, and you nodded. 

“I take it that Somin wasn’t very warm?” You asked, leaning more into Jungkook.

“Not at all,” Tae disclosed, “she was very icy, had a lot to say about our dear JK over here, didn’t she?”

“Nothing we haven't heard before.” Jimin answered, and the two laughed, but you didn’t find it all that funny. Hearing that Somin trash talked Jungkook to his friends while working didn’t sound like the kind of person anyone would want to date. 

“Well she can talk shit all she wants, she’s just mad he’s moved on.” You defended, and are surprised to hear a quiet ‘thank you’ just for your ears as Jungkook tightened his hold briefly.

“I really dislike that girl,” Jin said, “I for one will be glad to not see her trashy ass around the apartment anymore. You are a breath of fresh air, Y/N.”

You smile shyly at Jin, enjoying how well everyone seemed to have welcomed you into their group.

“So, Y/N, we were just talking about the party Yoongi was throwing. He and Hobi live together, and they’re throwing a small rager this weekend. You’re coming with JK, right?”

Oh, this was not something you were expecting. You hadn’t gone to a party with co-workers in a long time…

“Um—”

“Of course she’ll be there, she’s coming with me. Right, babe?” Jungkook’s doe eyes looked up at you and you couldn’t say no. It’s not like you had plans anyways. You nodded and smiled at him, and he leaned into you, lips seeking yours in a quick kiss. You feel your body react to it, like it had been doing since this started, and pulled back before he could turn it X-rated. 

“Okay, seriously you two, get a room.”

—

Standing in the mirror in your bedroom, you turned from side to side to take in your outfit. As a head wardrobe stylist, you had a pretty good sense of fashion, but liked to stick to basic pieces and blacks, dressing up your look with delicate jewelry or layered pieces. 

Tonight was no different. With the beginnings of winter creeping in, you wanted to be comfortable in the weather once the sun set. You had on black sheer leggings that disappeared into a cute black skirt with thin white lines that had a revealing thigh split. Your top was an asymmetrical design, having one long sleeve and turning into a bandeau style on the other side. You paired it with black velvet boots that had crisp white laces, then finished the look with a matching set of simple dangling skinny diamond earrings, bracelet, and necklace. 

Despite this thing with Jungkook being fake, you wanted him to still feel proud to showcase you on his arm at this party. People were already talking about the two of you, and tonight would fuel the gossip even more. You were nervous of course, knowing who typically attended these types of parties, but Jungkook had assured you that he would keep you safe tonight.

The polite knock on your bedroom door had you turn your head to the sound, a tossed “come in” over your shoulder to who you thought was Yuna, but revealed a very handsome looking Jungkook, who was in his typical all black attire. You stood there, body warming as you took in his height, broad shoulders, and long legs. 

“Wow.” 

His voice was low, but his eyes looked like they sparkled as he took you in. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Jeon,” you responded, reaching to grab your bag off of your bed.

Jungkook snapped out of the daze he was in and pulled his phone out of his pocket. 

“Let’s take a photo for the ‘gram.”

You nodded; for a second you thought he wanted to have a photo of you because you looked good. Posing in the mirror, he pulled you close by your waist and adjusted his phone to capture both of you in the frame. He took a few photos, switching poses slightly each time.

“Hey,” he said, gaining your attention. You turned to him, shocked when his lips met yours. You melt easily into the kiss, hearing the camera shutter click several times as you tangled tongues, his hand sliding from your waist to cup your butt and pull you closer. You were unable to stop the moan from his action, and when he pulled away, lips a bit fuller and pinker from kissing, he quirked his eyebrow at you, paired with his signature smirk.

“Y-You messed up my lip gloss,” you fake huffed, turning away from him to rummage through your bag to grab your gloss and reapply. Your attempt to avoid him from seeing the way he affected you didn’t go unnoticed, but Jungkook kept quiet on it.

“It was worth it, these pics are hot. Plus, you taste good. What flavor is that?”

“Strawberry,” you mumbled, still feeling the heat from the kiss warm your neck and face.

“Strawberry is slowly becoming my new favorite.”

—

Yoongi and Hobi knew how to throw a party. The music was playing at the perfect level that you could still hear people talking to you, a variety of alcoholic beverages were supplied in ample amounts, and several games were being held in various rooms of their home. 

Currently, you were seated on the couch with a few other women from the office. Unfortunately, one of them was Somin. Across the room, your ‘boyfriend’ was engaged in a game of beer pong against Taehyung and Jimin. They had challenged him solo, citing he was good at everything and didn’t need a partner. As you watched him toss the small ping pong balls into the same cup, you knew their concern was right. 

“Y/N, you and Jeon?” Seline, one of the girls seated next to you, asked suggestively.

“Yea,” you giggled, the cup of something or other making you a little... giggly.

“Color me a little surprised. He’s like, such a social butterfly, and you’re...” 

“Oh, Y/N used to be a social butterfly, but she thought she was too good for us back in college.” Somin piped up. 

Her statement caught you off guard. Somin was once your best friend, but when she started dating Jungkook, she had distanced herself from you, not the other way around. 

“I never thought that. Some people act differently once they start dating people though. I never changed.” You sat back with a huff, crossing your arms. She ruined the buzz the alcohol had given you. 

Seline leaned closer to you, interested to hear more. The other’s seated nearby also tuned in with interest.

“Oh, you knew them in college?” 

You nodded, and Somin got up and walked away from the couch, seemingly annoyed at the attention you were getting for being Jungkook’s new girl.

You told the brief backstory of your friendship, leaving out the obvious part of losing virginities and finding out your best friend confessed to Jungkook when you were on your way to do the same thing, but ending it on good terms, saying that it was just the process of naturally growing apart. 

Seline nodded, and you saw her eyes widen as she looked past you. Following her gaze, your eyes narrowed at the view. Somin was all over Jungkook. You weren’t exaggerating; both of her hands were holding on to him as if she was too drunk to maintain her balance. She was falling into his arms and he was holding her, one of his large hands pushing her hair back from her face and a look of concern etched upon his own. 

Two feelings hit you at once. Nausea at the sight of him looking so tenderly at her, simultaneous with a boiling fury of jealousy that it wasn’t you. 

“Looks like Somin wants him back.” Seline snickered towards the other girls, and you stood up abruptly. You made eye contact with Jimin, who’s eyes were unnaturally large as he registered the scene before him.

Jimin was relieved that Somin interrupted the end of the game so that he could escape before he had to drink more, but he also felt annoyed seeing her all over Jungkook. Jimin had been glad when Jungkook told him and Tae that he was done with Somin; even more glad when he heard that Jungkook started seeing you. 

Back in college, Jimin was the only person, other than you and Jungkook, who knew what happened between you two. Both of you had confided in him your actions and feelings for one another. Color him surprised when he found out that Jungkook was not dating you, but instead your best friend, Somin. He wasn’t sure what happened but soon after, you stopped being around as much and Somin was around all the time. 

Watching Somin pretend to be too drunk to function and fall all over Jungkook made Jimin purposefully search the room for you. Watching you stand, drink clutched in your hand, Jimin had a feeling something was about to happen.

The drink you were nursing was downed in its entirety within a single swallow. You were now several drinks in, and you were feeling the alcohol start to hit as you stood up fast. Pushing your shoulders back, you walked over towards your ‘boyfriend’, whose back was turned towards you, and slid your arm around his waist.

“Heyyy babe,” you leaned into his body, staking claim on Jungkook as you stared daggers at Somin. She had taken a few steps back when you had approached, but now, seeing the challenge in your eyes, she stepped closer once more.

“Ggukk-ah, I don’t feel so well...”

“Min,” Jungkook stepped out of your hold, hands moving to cup Somin’s face as she feigned weakness in her knees. The level of concern in his voice let you know exactly how he felt. You scoffed, not believing Jungkook would behave this way in front of everyone. He was the one who had came up with this idea for ‘mutual benefit’ and here he was fucking it all up.

“She’s fine, babe. She can handle her alcohol.” You felt yourself growing hotter, the alcohol actually having an effect on you, as it always had. Your increasing body temperature only made you more frustrated.

“Seriously Gguk, I’m getting so hot...” Somin reached for the hem of her shirt, and in one fell swoop she had exposed the lacey bra she wore underneath. You could hear people talking over the sound of the music, taking in the scene of a shirtless ex making a brazen show.

“Jungkook!” Your voice is no more than a harsh whisper, but he’s so scandalized at Somin’s action, the protective boyfriend in him coming out to aid in shielding her body from onlookers, he doesn’t hear you. 

You hate the sick feeling bubbling in your stomach, unsure if it's from watching your ‘man’ flirt with his half naked ex or if it’s from the alcohol not sitting right with you.

Throwing the scene one last look, you turned on your heels and headed off to the kitchen for a bottle of water, or perhaps, another cup of something stronger.

Walking past him and Taehyung, Jimin caught sight of the look on your face before you blew past on your way towards the kitchen and he knew he should warn his friend.

“Jungkook, hey.. Jungkook!” Jimin yelled, his voice louder the second time he called his name. 

Jungkook had been leaning towards Somin, hands cradling her face as he continued to speak quietly to her. When he looked up at Jimin, his face appeared slightly annoyed at the interruption as he was taking care of her.

“What, bro?”

“Um, your girlfriend? Y/N? She just went into the kitchen and she looked a little upset.” Jimin said, his face trying to communicate to Jungkook what it looked like that he was holding his ex that way and his new girlfriend had stormed off. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Jimin, can you?” Jungkook gestured his head towards the kitchen and Jimin thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head.

“How about I take Somin and you go find Y/N? Your girlfriend. Remember?”

Jungkook paused for a millisecond before depositing Somin into Jimin’s arms. He made his way to the kitchen, where he found you engaged in taking shots with Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jin, the latter of which was shit talking Somin with a smile. When you felt his presence enter the kitchen, you ignored him, gesturing for your now fourth shot in as many minutes.

Sensing the tension, Yoongi decided against more shots, instead leading Hobi and Jin out of the kitchen, much to Jin’s complaints of having to be around the ‘trashy tramp’. The three headed back to the party, a bottle tucked under Yoongi’s arm as Hobi carried the shot glasses out. 

“We were enjoying our new friend, JK. Stop keeping her to yourself,” Jin said with a drunken glare. 

Sighing audibly, you turned to walk out of the kitchen but Jungkook’s grasp on your wrist stopped you.

“Hey, why are you ignoring me like this?” He asked, confusion tinting his voice.

“Um, maybe because you’re supposed to be dating me and you were too busy with Somin to remember you even had a girlfriend.” You said back harshly, spitting the words at him with such vehemence you wobbled precariously on your heels.

“Come here.” Jungkook said, dragging you behind him through the bodies in the hallway until you had made it into one of the unoccupied back bedrooms. Shutting the door, he turned to you as he dragged his hand through his hair. The action only made him more handsome, tousled hair falling gently to frame his face.

“Look, it’s... complicated with Somin right now.”

“I get that you’re trying to teach her a lesson, see if you want to be with her or whatever, but not at my expense. You said mutually beneficial. Making me look like your second choice and embarrassing me does not benefit me.”

During your speech, you poked him in the chest several times, the alcohol starting to take its effect on you. Stumbling slightly, Jungkook caught you to steady you, keeping his hands on your waist. The warmness of his palms felt nice as he helped keep you balanced.

“You’re right, Y/N. I’m sorry. Like I said, it’s complicated. We dated for a long time. I still care for her. She’s... been making this difficult.”

“Oh? Difficult how? By faking being drunk so you can take care of her?”

“She’s a lightweight, that’s not fake,” he defended.

You were once close enough with Somin to know that she was not a lightweight, since she had been drinking at parties since she was 14; her earlier interaction was indeed, all an act.

“Whatever, Jungkook. So what is she doing that’s so difficult?” you asked, cutting him a look of narrowed eyes until he answered you.

He walked backwards, tugging you gently along until he was seated on the bed. You stood between his parted knees, waiting patiently for his answer. Realizing you weren’t going to drop it, he rubbed the back of his neck gingerly.

“She’s, you know.. She still texts me all the time, saying shit and sending pics and stuff. She says she wants me back, but I just,” he looked up at you, his doe eyes unable to hide his emotions.

“I don’t know if I believe it. I want to. But she’s hurt me, and I’m tired of it. I want her to feel how I felt.”

Your ire towards him faded as he opened up to you. Cupping his face gently, you leaned in and rubbed his nose with yours softly back and forth.

“You’re amazing Jungkook. Until tonight, you’ve treated me like a princess the entire week we’ve been dating. But she won’t learn if you give in. You’ve got me now, okay? When she texts you, text me instead. Don’t entertain her. She’ll think I’m not enough for you if you keep responding, and that doesn’t show her you can move on.”

You had sunk into him the whole time you talked to him, and he shifted your body so you were now straddled over his lap, head resting on his shoulder. You yawned sleepily, the loss of the anger leaving you feeling the tired effects of the alcohol. Unlike Somin, you were a lightweight, and 3 shots was over your limit.

As you got comfortable on Jungkook, he thought over what you said, smoothing your hair carefully.

“You’re right. You always were so smart in school... ” Jungkook said, and you nodded your head on his shoulder in agreement, humming an affirmative.

“Let’s get you home though, you’re halfway to passing out anyways.” Pulling out his phone, he ordered an Uber. He held you like that, your strawberry scent surrounding him until the Uber driver was outside. His hands gripping you under your thighs, he stood up and carried you out of the party, nodding bye to his friends and hosts of the party.

Placing you into the Uber, he climbed in after you and you curled into his lap, seeking his warmth in your drunken half-slumber. Jungkook chuckled, noticing the way his chest reacted to the action but ignored it. This was an arrangement, you seeking him out wasn’t real, and your anger earlier wasn’t jealousy, he told himself. You were worried about being embarrassed. He still loved and wanted to get back with Somin, right? 

As he looked down at you in his lap, enjoying the weight of you pressed against his body, he wasn’t so sure. 

“This the correct address, sir?” The Uber driver asked, verifying with Jungkook once he shut the SUV door.

“Yea, both of us are headed there.”

—

The weekend passed by fast. Waking up at Jungkook’s place Sunday morning had been a little shocking, but his bed was soft and clean, and smelled of him. You had snuggled deeper into the sheets until he woke you up to go get breakfast and get his car from Yoongi’s place. He detailed to you what had transpired to you being in his bed, expressed that he had not taken advantage of you, per rule number 7, plus the basic concept of consent, and promised to take you home as soon as Jin was awake and could take the two of you to go get his car. 

He gave you some clothes to change into, and while you weren’t surprised to find he had jeans to fit you, neither one of you asked or shared the obvious: they were Somin’s. At least the shirt he gave you was his, and you also stole a hoodie to wear. December may have only just started a week ago, but the cold was pervasive.

Breakfast with him was fun. Getting to know Jungkook again was just as exhilarating as it had been the first time, during that first year at BHSMA. He had changed, but in a good way. More mature, but still playful. An adult who was a hotshot photographer, but still humble and considerate. How someone could be built like that and have such a big soft heart was beyond you. 

The trip to get his car was slightly awkward, as Jin, Jungkook’s very nosy roommate, commented on how bad drunk sex must be with Jungkook if you were able to keep so quiet. 

“Somin was always so loud, I swear she was exaggerating. No one’s dick is that good; sorry JK.”

Once Jin dropped the two of you off at Yoongi and Hobi’s, it ended up turning into hanging out with them for a bit, talking about work and your relationship with Jungkook. Hobi swooned with oohs and ahhs while Yoongi cringed, faking disgust at such a cute story, as was his trademark. 

Jungkook apologized once the two of you escaped to his car, for both Jin being cringey, and for staying longer than anticipated with Yoongi and Hoseok, but you weren’t mad. You enjoyed meeting his friends and getting to know them. You were only a little concerned because Yoongi was also friends with Namjoon, who worked in the same department as him.

Jungkook turned to you before you climbed out of the car, not wanting to say goodbye just yet, but unable to think of a reason to get you to stay. Afterall, the relationship was fake. 

“Hey, thanks for your advice last night.”

“Honestly, I barely remember what it was, but if it helped you, I’m glad.” You smiled at him, and he had to blink a few times to remember what else he wanted to say.

“So, um—I was thinking we could go on, like, a formal date Monday? After work? Monday should be a chill day. I know the comeback is planned for January, so going out sooner than later is best, right? Get it out of the way? That way we won’t forget, and we won’t be too busy with work to try and squeeze it in, and—” 

Jungkook knew he was rambling, feeling nervous despite it being you, someone he had known for several years now. For fucks sake, he’s seen you naked. He felt his cock twitch and internally scolded himself. This was not the time for remembering the way you felt beneath him, the sweet sounds he had pulled from you as he learned your body, shared with you in giving each other your virginities. 

When his cock twitched again, he took a deep breath and tried to focus on your answer.

“You okay, Jeon?” you asked, noticing he had zoned out slightly.

“Yeah... ” he responded, shifting as if uncomfortable.

“Well, I said I would love to go on a date with you. What did you have planned?”

“It’s a surprise. Just dress for the weather.”

You nodded thoughtfully, a small smile gracing your face as you gathered your purse and stepped back out of the doorway of his car to shut it. He rolled the window down, smiling back at you.

“Can’t wait,” you say, standing outside his car on the sidewalk through the rolled down window, waving your fingers at him cutely.

Jungkook’s signature smile spread across his face as he winked at you just before he pulled off, turning his music up loud as he whipped his Benz out of your complex. 

—

Now sitting at your desk, you clicked through the selected shots that Jungkook emailed you of the photo shoot from last week as you reminisced on the weekend. You were supposed to be checking the outfits, detailing the different designers for the credits. But your thoughts kept drifting to Jungkook, and what should have easily been a 15 minute task took 45. 

Finally sending the email, you stood to stretch when a loud knock announced a visitor. Walking to the frosted door of your office, you opened it and revealed a large bouquet of tiger lilies. 

“Delivery for Y/N Y/L/N,” Kim, one of your assistants sing-songed as she walked into the room.

“Where did you get this? And why?” You searched the flowers until you found the card inside.

“I’m not supposed to give any details other than to read the note!” She pranced away, a smug smile on her face for knowing the secret you wanted to know.

Opening the envelope, a small polaroid fell out, fluttering to the ground. You picked it up, noting the image of a small park nearby. At the bottom, in Jungkook’s neat writing was a time. 2:30PM. Glancing at the clock, you see that the time listed is in roughly 15 minutes, so you gathered your purse, plucked a flower from the bouquet and headed out to meet Jungkook.

Walking into the elevator, Namjoon suddenly entered just before the doors shut, trapping you inside with him.

“Why are you avoiding me?” He asked. You studied him, momentarily at a loss for words at his ambush.

“Joonie, I—I’m not avoiding you. I’ve just been busy...”

“Too busy for your best friend? Jennie left me, and now I feel like I’m losing you too.”

Hearing his voice crack as he mentioned his ex hurts you more than you let him know. In all of the panic of the secret sex journal being released and fake dating Jungkook, you had forgotten what Namjoon had been going through.

“I promise, you’re not losing me, Joonie. You’re my best friend. I’m sorry that I haven’t been acting like it. I swear, I have been busy.”

“Yeah, busy going to parties with your new boyfriend. I saw him carrying your wasted ass out of Yoongi’s house.” Namjoon sounded a little irritated as he spoke.

“Listen, it’s complicated.. Can we talk about this later, please? It’s not a conversation for the elevator.”

“Okay, where are you going? I’ll go with you.” The doors opened and you both stepped out, Namjoon following you like a lifeline.

“Joonie, I—Look, I’m going on a date with Jungkook, I’m sorry!” you halted your steps and explained to him as a look of hurt flashed across his face.

“You know what? Forget it. Hit me up when you remember your best friend, if I’m even that.”

Namjoon walked away from you, ignoring you as you called after him. You sighed, giving up as he disappeared around a corner of the lobby, guests and coworkers looking at the exchange with interest.

You rubbed your temples and took a deep breath before braving the cold to walk to Ttukseom Park.

The walk was surprisingly pleasant. Despite the temperature, the sun was warm on your face whenever you were able to evade the shade along the sidewalk. It may have been the very beginnings of winter, but the scenery was anything but the cold melancholy you tended to associate with this time of the year.

The grass was vibrant still, and as you made it to the spot that matched the small photo you still had clutched in your hand, you noticed how the butterfly art installation along the wall of the J-Bug Cultural Complex glittered in the sunlight seeping in. Jungkook was seated on a bench right underneath the art with his trusty camera hanging from his neck, a picnic basket next to him.

“This is beautiful,” you said in awe, taking in the entire view. Jungkook followed your gaze, humming his agreement before picking up his camera. You heard the shutter of the camera several times. You looked over to him glancing at the small screen on the device before adjusting the lens and taking several more. 

“Have you never seen this?” He said as he stood and grabbed the basket. You stood as well and followed him, falling into step beside him as he walked out from the shade and into the grassier area.

You shook your head no. “Don’t really have the time I guess. I’ve always wanted to explore the J-Bug though; Namjoon said the museums all along the Hangang are amazing.”

“I’ve taken photos at several of the murals nearby, they’re some of my favorite locations actually.” He smiled at you, and you can’t help the way your heart squeezes. He nodded his head to an area that had a decent amount of sunlight to combat the winter chill.

“Yea, I remember seeing some of them in your office. You’re really talented Kookie, I remember how passionate you were about photography even back then.” You helped spread the blanket he produced from the basket and once seated you leaned back on your palms, eyes closed. 

Jungkook looked at you, taking in the way the midday sun made you glow, how pretty your lashes looked leaving shadows across your content cheeks. He couldn’t hold back the smile that took over his face upon hearing you use the endearment he hadn’t heard since that night so long ago.

“Ah, yeah, but my photography wasn’t that good then.”

“Stop being so humble, the photos you took were amazing, even then.”

You opened your eyes, catching him staring at you, and you felt yourself grow self-conscious.

“What? Is there something on my face?”

“Oh—uh, no sorry, it was just the sun—you know, lighting and all.” He gestured to his camera.

“Ah, I guess the talented eye never rests. Though I don’t know why you would want pictures of me,” you laughed and Jungkook tapped your knee in reproach.

“You’re a pretty good subject, don’t downplay yourself.”

You nodded, looking in the basket to hide the way your cheeks had warmed at his comment.

“Seriously, Y/N, I used to want to take photos of you all the time back then... you should’ve seen my camera roll. It was embarrassing. Jimin used to tease me all the time.” Jungkook helped you set up his small spread of food and you used the meal as a distraction.

“Ooh, did you prepare all of this?”

“Ah, some of it,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I had some help from Jin hyung.”

“It smells delicious.” You took the proffered chopsticks from his large hand and dug into the bowl of japchae before placing it on your rice to gather for one bite; Jungkook followed suit.

The rest of the lunch date went incredibly well. Jungkook was just like you remembered him to be, except he was more filled out, and a little taller with a jawline that could cut glass. But his humor, his compassion, his deep thoughts that led you to fall for him all those years ago were still painfully there. Spending more time with him one on one did nothing but show you that the feelings you once had for him were still easily accessible. 

As he led you back to the office, his hand swinging yours between your bodies, you couldn’t help but wish this was real. How nice it would be to just pretend that Jungkook really was yours, allow those creeping feelings to spread like spring, blooming across your chest until it was vibrant and unforgettable. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like after; after when you were single again and Jungkook had either gotten back with Somin or moved on to someone else.

“What are you thinking about?” Jungkook squeezed your hand. You hadn’t even noticed that you were not only back at the office, but standing at the door to your locked office.

“Oh, sorry. Honestly, that lunch date was just so nice… It felt good to get out and do something different for a change.”

“Oh, well yea, I remembered you used to like stuff like this, I figured you probably still did.”

You nodded, hope blooming. 

“Take a look at this post, let me know if it’s okay.”

He handed you his phone, and you admired the way he had caught you off guard, a photo that looked like it could be moving, the way your hair frames your face as you looked longingly off into the distance. The caption was simple. “It’s not about where you go or what you have, it’s about who you’re with along the way.” 

“It’s perfect.”

“Okay, post it then. And post a few more pics of me on your page too? I’ve been posting and tagging you...”

If you didn’t know any better, you would think that Jungkook sounded… upset? You nodded as you clicked the post button, and as it loaded, the phone vibrated in your hand. Thinking it was a like or a comment on the image of you, you glanced at it. His phone had locked by this time, and instead of seeing notifications for Instagram, you saw a message notification instead. 

Handing him back his phone, you push down that blooming sensation. It would be foolish to think Jungkook was upset that you hadn’t posted him as much as he had posted you. Clearly he must’ve spent time with Somin after he dropped you off yesterday. 

“You got a message. Umm, I’m gonna finish up here and then head home, you don’t need to wait for me. See you tomorrow?”

You wanted to get away from him desperately. Jungkook looked at you, confused at your sudden shift in mood.

“I thought I was driving you home? Jin said he was staying out late tonight, I figured we could hang out for a few—”

“We’ll see! There’s still so much to do for the album release.” You leaned up and kissed his cheek chastely before unlocking your office door and all but disappeared inside of it.

Jungkook stood there, staring at your closed door for a few more seconds before he felt his phone buzz in his hand. Checking his notifications, he saw a series of texts from Somin. 

Looking around confused, he noticed Somin standing across the office area, a deadly smirk on her face as she waved her phone at Jungkook. All Jungkook could do was sigh. Somin wouldn’t leave him alone long enough to sort out his thoughts, and now she was sending purposefully misleading texts? Jungkook didn’t know how to explain to you that what you saw was untrue.

You clearly believed it.

—

Jungkook gave you two days of space before he decided to track you down. He always hated that Somin would know he was upset (typically because it was her fault) and immediately pounce on him, forcing her company upon him and not allowing him the ability to forgive and move on. He wanted to give you that time, so after two days, Jungkook felt that it had been long enough, and the two of you should reconcile whatever misunderstanding there had been.

You posted a photo with him yesterday, and from the caption you wrote it appeared like you had a fun time with him on Monday despite the way you left him standing at your office door. 

The image you posted on your Instagram with Jungkook was a candid shot; he hadn’t realized you had taken a photo. While it brought about that warm feeling in his chest seeing the photo appear in his feed, it didn’t clearly depict his face. 

Instead, the focus was on your fingers intertwined. Jungkook’s profile could be seen, blurred from lack of focus, but it matched the caption you had chosen so well. “Even if someone shakes this world, please don’t ever let go of this hand you’re holding...”

Motivated, Jungkook made sure to be bright and early at your door ready to drive you and your sister. 

You weren’t expecting to see the flashy Benz outside of your apartment. Yuna was excited to not have to take public transportation, leaving you behind as she all but ran to the passenger rear door.

“Morning JK! We missed you these past few days.”

“Ah, sorry about that, I had to be at the office way earlier; didn’t want to make you guys wake up even earlier than you already do.”

Yuna waves off the apology and you finally followed; feet moving across the pavement until you’ve climbed into the car and buckled your seatbelt.

“Morning princess,” Jungkook says, leaning towards you and pecking your lips. You were caught off guard, not expecting him to be so lovey, but you returned the kiss, a double peck that you started and continued on as the traditional way you greeted each other.

“Morning.”

“Didn’t sleep well?”

“Yea, been a bit out of it these past few days...” You trailed off, not wanting to talk about it in front of Yuna. Catching on, Jungkook turns up the music and shifts into drive, pulling off towards the University for Yuna.

The drive to the office isn’t too long from the school, so once Yuna was out, Jungkook wasted no time in asking you to talk.

“So, can we talk about Somin?”

You huffed out a sigh. It was too early in the morning to deal with the Somin issue, but you nodded, allowing Jungkook to breach the topic.

“I know you saw her message. I want you to know that nothing happened. She sent that text because she saw us. She was doing the same bullshit she always does, part of the reason I don’t think she’s learned anything yet, like you said.”

You nodded, still not sure what to believe. He had no reason to lie to you, it’s not like you were actually in a relationship. He could go back to Somin anytime. 

“I hate that you’re mad at me.”

You turned your body towards him. 

“I—Look, I’m not mad, okay? Not at you. I just hate that Somin gets under my skin so much. That she’s a bitch to you. Neither of us deserve it, especially you.”

Jungkook reached over, encasing your hand in his.

“I’m learning that now. We’ve been together so long, I never noticed at first what she was doing. But I think subconsciously, it was making me resent her. And you really said some shit that had me thinking. And you’re right. I—I’m really glad to have you back in my life, Y/N. Having you in my corner has made all the difference.”

You looked down, eyes staring at the tattooed hand to hide the warmth on your face. 

“After work, come over. Let me buy us dinner and we can hang out.” You felt his smile as he stared at you while pausing at the red light before your office, and you met his gaze.

“Okay.”

“Good, we need to make Jin believe we’re having hot, loud sex, since rule 7 prevents you from experiencing the real thing.”

He let out a shout of pain as you punched his shoulder.

—

Walking to get food was not the smartest idea for 3 reasons. First, because neither of you checked the weather. Second, due to number one, neither of you had an umbrella. So naturally, third, running in the rain while carrying takeout was almost a disaster.

And still, the two of you laughed the entire way, bag clutched in one arm while your fingers were intertwined between your sprinting bodies, one block left to get to Jungkook’s apartment. By the time he’s unlocked the door, you're both sopping wet, rain water dripping onto the floor of the entryway to the apartment. After getting the food situated to stay warm while you guys got cleaned up, Jungkook gave you a towel and led you to his bathroom.

You appreciated that he was such a clean guy, his apartment and subsequently, the bathroom was pristine, and he actually had a trashcan and stocked toilet paper, unlike some men you knew. He planted folded clothes for you to change into on top of the sink counter, and surprised you with a kiss.

“What was that for?” You asked, dazed.

“Practice.” He said with a wink, and he backed away, closing the door as he left you alone. 

—

While Jungkook showered, you heated up the food, your mostly dried hair now up in a messy bun as you danced around his kitchen. His sweats were a little (a lot) too long, so you had rolled them up so you could avoid tripping. 

A knock at the door made you jump, before you moonwalked over to the entryway, now clean of the rain water the two of you had trudged in. Thinking it was Jin, you didn’t check to see who it was and opened the door. You froze as you took in a young man that was not your ‘boyfriend’s’ broad shouldered roommate. Instead, doe-eyes similar to the man currently naked in the shower stared back at you.

“Oh, hey… I thought my brother lived here. Sorry about that!” The man stepped back, checking the number on the apartment again before his eyes landed on your shirt—or rather, his brother’s shirt.

“You’re not Somin...”

“Hi, and no, I’m not,” you laughed, “um, but this is Jungkook’s apartment.”

“Ahh, okay. I’m JungHyun. His older brother.”

“Oh! Come in!” You stepped back so that he could walk past you, and you led him into the living room once he had shed his shoes. 

“Oh, did I interrupt dinner?”

“Oh, no we haven’t even started eating yet. No worries.”

The two of you sat down, and you tucked your feet up under your bottom, turning to face Jungkook’s older brother.

“So, I know who you’re not...”

“Oh, fuck, manners.” The look on your face is sheepish, and you smiled to cover your nerves. “I’m Y/N, Kookie’s girlfriend.”

“Oh, you’re the famous Y/N! Finally got you, did he?”

His words confused you, Jungkook had been with Somin since forever, when had he ever wanted you? Smiling to cover your confusion, you’re saved when Jungkook appears in the hallway, a loud laugh as he barreled over to his brother and all but jumped on the man.

“Hyung! What are you doing here?!”

“Oh, I finished that project at work early, so I’m headed to visit mom and dad. Staying with them through Christmas before the next contract at work starts.”

“Ah, it’s good to see you!”

Jungkook’s enthusiasm is abundant; it’s clear he loves his brother dearly and misses him. He pulled back from a hug and sat comfortably in the space between you and JungHyun, his palm resting lightly on your leg absentmindedly.

“So, I’ve met your new girlfriend. I must say you didn’t do her justice when you described her to me.”

You felt the blush creep across your face, and Jungkook also seemed to turn red, his fingers rubbing at the skin on his neck.

“Yea, seeing her in person is best.” He says awkwardly, and you can’t help but laugh.

“So? Does dad know? Mom is gonna be so excited. She hated Somin.”

“What?” Jungkook says at the same time that you say “Really?”

JungHyun nodded, sitting back into the couch comfortably.

“Yea, no offense, lil bro, but Somin was a bitch. Mom thought she was so fake.”

“Wh-why didn’t you guys ever say anything?”

“Eh, you know, cause you were in love or whatever.”

You get up and go to the kitchen, grabbing bowls and the last of the heated food, hoping to avoid being present for this part of their conversation, but still curious all the same.

“Definitely not.”

“Mmhmm, sure.”

“Seriously. I wasn’t actually in love. Or if I was, it faded. I think for a lot of it I was just… dependent or whatever. I thought it was love, sure. But it wasn’t; I know that now.”

“Ah, so Y/N showed you what love is?”

“She definitely cares more about me and my happiness than Somin ever has.”

You cleared your throat as you walked back into the living room.

“Ready to eat?”

Dinner with Jungkook and JungHyun is, in so many words, fun. They bantered and joked and you spend the time eating and laughing, enjoying your time with the brothers. You didn't even realize how late it had gotten, not until Jin waltzed into the apartment, noting the late hour for you all to be chatting so loud. 

“Shit, Yuna messaged me an hour ago.” 

“Just stay here. We can pick Yuna up in the morning when you go home to change.”

“Are you sure? Your brother’s visiting, I don’t want to be in the way.”

“Y/N, don’t worry, I’ll take the couch. I was going to anyway.” JungHyun smiled at you, and you nodded back. Standing up, you stretched, not realizing how tired you were. Jungkook took the opportunity to tickle your exposed sides, and you squealed, causing the brothers to laugh as you squirmed away from Jungkook, who didn’t let you get far.

“Let’s get you to bed, princess.”

Turning in Jungkook’s arms, you looked over his shoulder at his brother.

“Good night, oppa.”

Jungkook stiffened as JungHyun and Jin laughed, enjoying the way the youngest one reacted to your words.

“Ah, if it doesn’t work out between you two, hit me up.”

“Hyung!” Jungkook glared at his brother, not enjoying the joke.

“What? At least she wouldn’t need to meet our parents twice! She is coming for Christmas, right?”

The two of you looked at each other, a little thrown off by the question. The holidays were coming up, but you hadn’t discussed this far into the relationship. It wasn’t real after all, did you have to go through such lengths to teach Somin a lesson?

“I haven’t told mom and dad yet about her...”

“No worries, I text them ages ago. They’re expecting her for Christmas.”

Jungkook sighed, dropping his forehead to yours, so all you could see was his eyes staring into yours.

“Is this okay? Do you wanna, you know? Meet my parents?” Jungkook’s voice was low as he whispered the question.

“I—Yes.”

The look on his face when you agreed was beautiful, a scrunched-nose smile that is reminiscent of a bunny. You couldn’t help but smile back, lost in the mahogany of his eyes.

“Are you guys over there kissing when I’m waiting for an answer?” JungHyun broke the tension filling the air between you and his brother.

Jungkook smirked before capturing your lips with his own, a breathless kiss that lasted only a couple seconds before he pulled away to smirk at his brother.

“You can tell mom and dad I’ll be bringing her home for Christmas.” With those words, Jungkook whisked you down the hall and tucked you into his bed before climbing in behind you. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pulled you closer to him. His hands skimmed your body before he began tickling you again, a squeal leaving your mouth. You retaliated, hands attempting to tickle him before he pinned you to the bed, and the two of you began to wrestle for a bit. 

You were unaware of how sexual the wrestling sounded; his headboard hitting the wall roughly and the two of you grunting and groaning as you fought for dominance, some added squeals and moans when Jungkook decided it was a good idea to bite you in his quest for submission. Finally winded, you gave in, laying back on the mattress in defeat. Jungkook tugged at your sweatpants, removing them swiftly and throwing them onto the floor, his own joining the pile. He then grasped your face, peppering it with kisses.

You were about to ask him what he was doing, when someone knocked. Jungkook called out a ‘come in’ and his brother walked into the bedroom, his sights set on the bathroom.

“Don’t mind me, just gonna wash up before bed. It seemed safe to enter now.”

He disappeared into the bathroom as Jungkook continued to hold you, affectionate even after his brother was out of sight. Even if this relationship was fake, you could pretend in this moment that it was real, that Jungkook pulled you closer, not to fool his brother, but because he wanted to be close to you, that he was falling in love with you. 

For one night, it should be okay to pretend it was something more, right?

—

The next two weeks passed by in a blur. Namjoon had basically confined himself to his studio at work, intent on avoiding you. Seeing you hand in hand with Jungkook seemed to bother him, and because you couldn’t tell him the truth (or wouldn’t), you left him to his own assumptions. He ignored all of your texts attempting to reach out to him, despite him saying he wanted you to let him know when you had time for him. This just made you more frustrated, and you were done trying to chase Namjoon, romantically or otherwise. When he was ready to behave like an adult, you would be willing to talk to him. 

After telling Yuna about how you were asked to go home with Jungkook and meet his family, you received a call from your own parents. Yuna had told them about Jungkook, and you were bombarded with questions until you too agreed to bring Jungkook home.

It took some discussing, but it was finally decided: the 23rd and Christmas Eve would be with your family, and Christmas Day and the 26th would be with Jungkook’s. You were a little worried that the parents would be able to see through your ruse, despite having fooled everybody else at work, but Jungkook assured you that it would be easy enough to trick his parents. 

On the train ride to Daegu, you sat a few rows away from your sister, who had her headphones in as she watched the latest K-Drama she missed due to her busy school schedule. The ‘arriving soon’ message plays throughout the cabins of the KTX, and you figure it’s important to bring up your parents. 

Turning to Jungkook, who was drawing on his iPad, you removed an airpod from your ear, pausing the music. You take a moment and admire his face, the way his jawline was so angular, the sharp planes of his cheekbones, the concentration held in his eyes.

“Like what you see?” Jungkook’s voice is teasing, but you still felt embarrassed at being caught staring at him.

“I just think we should talk about the next 2 days.”

“Y/N, listen. Parents love me. Despite the tattoos and long hair.”

“Cause you’ve met so many parents? You’ve been dating Somin since we were 20.”

“My friends have parents too, you know. Don’t worry. Just be like we always are and it’ll be fine.”

“Your parents may be easy to trick, but mine? They’re a bit more… scrutinizing. Plus, they’ve heard me talk about Namjoon, and probably don’t remember me talking about you...” you trailed off, a slight warmth subtly coloring your cheeks.

“So you used to talk about me?”

“Well, yea, first year, you know? I had a crush on you, so my mom heard all about it. Not about—you know, but I told her I thought we might date.” You buried your nose in your phone to avoid looking at Jungkook. 

“You know, you never told me why you nev—”

Jungkook’s words were cut off by an attendant walking through the aisle, asking everyone to start packing up their belongings as the train would be pulling into the DongDaegu Station momentarily.

“My dad should be here to pick us up—Yuna!” Your sister turned to you, a smile on her face as she waved her phone.

“Dad’s here!”

The drive to the house was short, and you spent most of the time taking turns with Yuna filling in your dad on your life in Seoul. Your mom was busy in the kitchen when you arrived, and she shooed you all upstairs to your rooms. Unsurprisingly, your parents were having you and Yuna share her room while Jungkook would be across the hall in your room. 

Your parents were more conservative, and while you were an adult and perfectly able to do as you pleased in Seoul, while under their roof, they wanted to make sure that you remained as pure as they could keep you. 

Dinner that first night went well. Jungook and your dad bonded over sports, despite Jungkook not playing any team sports, he was still well-versed on the topic and joined your dad in watching a basketball game while you, Yuna, and your mom cleaned up after dinner and then sat in the sewing room. 

Your mom asked you all about Jungkook, which she surprisingly did remember you talking about. It seemed you had her and your father fooled, but while you sat at her embroidery machine, she shared she was confused about the lack of presents you had for each other to open tomorrow night. Saying it was because you still had to wrap them and she would find them under the tree tomorrow was an easy enough excuse, and paired with a very real yawn, you excused yourself to get ready for bed.

Sleeping with Yuna was uncomfortable; she was a wild sleeper. Restlessness won over sleep, so you got out of bed and made your way downstairs to grab a bottle of water from the kitchen. Your parents were already in bed in their first floor room on the other side of the house from the kitchen and the stairs.

When you returned back upstairs, you noticed the light on in your bedroom, so you knocked softly.

“Come in,” Jungkook’s voice was subdued, and you pushed the door open gently.

“Hey,” you said, eyeing Jungkook’s lean, topless form as he sat at the edge of the bed. You never tired of the view when you would sleep over at his place. 

“Can’t sleep?”

“Yea, Yuna isn’t the best person to sleep next to, flops around all night, hogs the sheets.”

You walk into the room, joining him on the bed. He’s swiping through images from the SeoulM8 shoots he’s recently done. You watched his finger move across the iPad leisurely.

“Ahh, sounds like you miss sleeping next to me.”

You scoffed, shoulder bumping into his.

“You snore a bit. And your body temperature runs pretty hot. I wake up sweating half the time.”

“Ah, not the first time I’ve made you sweat, love.”

You raise your eyebrow at his insinuation of your loss of virginity.

“Kidding, babe,” he jokes, locking his iPad and setting it down to charge on the bedside table.

“Can we go into town tomorrow? I want to do some last minute shopping.”

“Sure.” Jungkook yawned and you took that as your cue to leave so he could get some sleep after your journey across the country.

“Where ya going? I thought you couldn't fall asleep with Yuna?”

Jungkook pulled the covers back, making space for you to climb in in front of him.

“Well, yes, but my parents—”

“Sleep downstairs and wholly expect us to pretend to sleep apart but know that you’re going to sneak in here anyways because we’re madly in love.”

You had to cover your mouth to keep from laughing loudly.

“And how do you know that?”

Jungkook smirked, still waiting for you to get into bed.

“You’re dad told me. He also said we need to give him grandchildren, sooner rather than later.”

Stunned silent, Jungkook leaned forward and grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards him. He turned off the light and you climbed in over him, keeping him at the front just in case. 

“C’mere,” he rolled over and pulled you to his chest, snuggling into you as he got comfortable. “We have to look madly in love. No funny business though. I know you think I’m irresistible, but we are in your parents house and must be respectful.”

You elbowed him in the rib, and settled into the comforting darkness of your childhood bedroom with Jungkook’s arm wound around your waist, holding you close. 

——

Christmas Eve, in your family, is the night that presents are opened. As a child, this tradition was done in order to make room under the tree for Santa’s presents. As adults, your parents keep the tradition alive, instead putting stockings with 1 or 2 of the more expensive gifts for you to have on Christmas morning. 

After shopping in town and spending time wrapping, you had finally placed a few gifts for Jungkook under the tree that Yuna was now passing out. You were surprised to see a couple gifts for you from Jungkook in the small pile you amassed, and when you caught his eye, he winked at you. 

Yuna opened her gifts first, then you and Jungkook, where you saw that he gave you a matching jewelry set: necklace and earrings in a soft rose gold, a small cherry blossom bloom dangling from the small hoop of the earrings and from a small hoop on the necklace. It reminded you of your date at the park. The two of you sat under the winter sakura tree that day, the only blossoms that bloom twice a year, where you told him how much you loved cherry blossoms in passing. 

“It’s beautiful, Jungkook.” You almost can’t believe it, but he just smiles softly at your gratitude and helps put the necklace on you. Your parents looked happy, enjoying seeing their daughter so happy. Jungkook was excited to see what you had gotten him; a special lens for his camera that he had talked on and on about purchasing soon. He was giddy, running upstairs to grab his camera, testing out the new lens on pictures of you and your family.

Once again, you found yourself in your old room, curled up with Jungkook, but this time you were unable to sleep. Rolling over, you faced Jungkook, who cracked one eye and peeked at you.

“What’s wrong, babe?” he asked, voice laced with sleep. You noticed how easily the endearment rolled off his tongue even with no one around to convince.

“I—the gift you got me,” your fingers fidgeted with the small cherry blossom on the necklace. “I hope it didn’t cost too much. You can return it once we break up if you need to.”

“Y/N, that gift is for you. For being such a great… friend. Helping me do this. I really think it’s working.”

“You deserve to be happy Jungkook. I’m glad you were able to get space long enough to work out how you feel, and that you’re working your way to being happier.”

“Yea, I think I’ve been much happier lately...”

You watched his tongue run along his lips, and you couldn’t help but train your eyes on the movement. He caught your eyes, his hands gripped you a bit tighter as the tension in the dark room grew.

“...much happier...”

You weren’t sure who moved first, you or Jungkook, but at that point, it didn’t really matter. The way your lips sought his, the way his hands pulled you closer, the two of you were acting on instinct. This kiss wasn’t for practice or for show, who was to know what happened here, in this room tonight, but the two of you?

You let out a moan as he dipped his head lower, tracing kisses from your neck to what was exposed of your collarbone. His touch is impatient, tugging and kneading, unable to stay still on your body. His scent alone, a musky vanilla scent, engulfed your senses and you wanted… more.

You threw your leg over his body, turning the two of you until you’re straddled on top of him, able to press your core down onto his very firm cock. His boxers and your sleep shorts are the only things holding it back from assaulting you, and you’re annoyed that they’re in the way. Reaching down, you slide your hand roughly into the waistline of the boxers, fingers gripping him.

Jungkook groaned into your neck, the feel of your hand as you palm him building the craving he had for you. He wanted you. Not just physically. But you had those stupid rules, and he couldn’t just break them. He respected you more than that, and falling in love with you? Well that wasn’t part of the plan.

Jungkook slows the way he’s kissing you, slows the way he was thrusting into your hand and pushes you gently off of him and back to your side of the bed. You’re both panting, barely able to catch your breath as he pulled your back to his chest and held you close.

“We’ve got a long trip tomorrow morning to Busan, babe. Let’s get some sleep.”

“Oh… okay?” You were so confused. You had never been turned down before, especially not when you were so far into the act, practically ready to pull your panties to the side and ease him into you. You were throbbing, body aching with want, and you knew he was too; could feel the hardness as it nestled in the dip between your cheeks.

You felt him kiss your head, followed by a soft double peck to your neck, and not 10 minutes later his breathing slowed as he drifted off to sleep. 

You, on the other hand, laid awake, thoughts running wild.

——

Christmas morning you had an early breakfast with your family before opening stockings. Your parents had only a couple of weeks to prepare for Jungkook, but they had prepared a stocking for him as well; your mom embroidering his name onto it and stuffing it full to the brim. 

You were surprised at the gifts; a couple boxes of polaroid film, a bag of banana kick chips, individually packaged egg snacks, and colorful candy canes. Yours were similar as well, a small collection of sewing items for designing, and your favorite snacks. Your mom ruffled Jungkook’s sleepy-head hair as he offered his thanks to your parents, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart swoon at the sight. You realized something heartbreaking at that moment: breaking up with Jungkook once this was over would hurt more than just you. 

Heading to Jungkook’s parents house was a different experience after the previous night. Yuna had obviously stayed with your parents, and would be catching the train back the same day you left Busan. 

This was the first time the two of you had been alone since the rejection the night before, and you were doing your best to ignore the hurt feeling that would bloom every time you caught yourself dwelling on it. You focused on your phone instead, posting a few photos on Instagram so that you were sticking to your end of the deal. Somin would see these posts some way or another, and it would hopefully do what it was intended to.

Jungkook didn’t seem to think twice about the rejection, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and treating you like you were really together, a true couple going to meet his parents for the first time. 

“Nervous?”

“A little. I’ll be meeting your parents, and we’re not really together,” you looked down at your hands, missing the way Jungkook’s face fell for a few seconds before working it’s way back to a smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

“I think we’re together enough where it counts. No one watching us would doubt it,” he intertwined your fingers and gave it an encouraging squeeze, “sometimes even I forget you’re not my real girlfriend.” He laughed, and the sound leaves an ache in your chest.

“Same, haha...” You looked out the window of the KTX, ready to breathe the fresh air of the nearby sea. Jungkook released your hand and you both went back to your tasks, Jungkook reading emails and you sketching designs for work.

Jungkook’s parents treated you much like yours had treated Jungkook. Like you were the greatest thing to happen to their child.

“Y/N, you’re so pretty! Oh, thank heavens, we have a chance at cute grandchildren now.” Jungkook’s mom bowed her head in thanks to a higher power, and you couldn’t help feeling a little bad that you weren’t actually dating Jungkook. You would have liked to deserve the praise she was giving you.

“He looks so much happier, happier than we’ve seen him in a long time.” She smiled at his father and their eyes, so similar to their two sons, crinkled in the corners. JungHyun greeted you with a hug, and you reciprocated it.

“Hi, Oppa,” you teased, and Jungkook glared at you. 

“Yah! That’s Jeon JungHyun to you,” he leaned closer to your ear in a mock whisper, “only I get called Oppa.”

JungHyun cringed back in mock disgust.

“I do not need to know about your ‘Oppa kink’ in the bedroom.” He shivered as he walked back to the living room, where he put away his laptop to make space for gifts.

Their dad, who you were very glad had not heard his eldest son’s comment, gestured to you to leave your suitcases in the entryway and come sit down.

“Kookie, pass out the gifts please. Your mom has been waiting all morning in excitement for you two to get here. We can have lunch after you guys get situated.”

Jungkook, ever the dutiful youngest son, began to distribute gifts amongst you all, while you handed your own gifts that you had gotten for his family out to them. 

“You didn’t have to get them anything,” Jungkook whispered as he dropped a gift off for you from his own parents.

You gave him a pointed look, gesturing subtly to the gift.

“I did.”

He shook his head with a smile and continued until the space under the tree was empty.

“So, we just open them all at the same time! Save your thanks for the end, ready?” His dad looked at you, and you nodded.

“Let’s get it!” Jungkook shouted, and everyone laughed at his phrase as you began to open your gifts. You didn’t have many, one from his parents and JungHyun, and 2 from Jungkook. His family had given you a Pantone Color Swatch book that was easy to carry around, to help while on set working. It was very thoughtful, and you knew it could not have been cheap. You bowed deeply, on your knees and forehead to their floor as a show of your gratitude and respect.

They motioned for you to sit back up, waving off your thanks as if it was no big deal for them to get this gift for you. You turned to Jungkook’s gift, eyes already threatening tears at their sincere treatment of you, and once opened, you did cry.

Nestled inside a satin lined box was a beautiful set of Dwikkoji, traditional hair pins, that came with a small card identifying them as from the Joseon era.

“Jungkook!” you gasped, sure that they couldn’t be real.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t have to pay for them. But they would look much better displayed in your office as our head fashionista then collecting dust in storage.”

You couldn’t hold back your feelings any longer. Acting on instinct, you tugged him towards you, wrapping your arms under his own and around his frame as you let your tears fall.

“They’re beautiful, Kookie.” 

Jungkook reciprocated your embrace, his hand smoothing down your hair as his parents smiled at the scene in front of them.

“Ah, young love, remember when that was us?”

—

Unlike your parents, who wanted to pretend that the two of you were a modest young couple, Jungkook’s parents assumed that the two of you would room together. His dad had clapped him on his shoulder and congratulated him on bringing home such a fine woman. Apparently in the two weeks that JungHyun had been home, he had raved about you to his parents, showing pictures from your social media accounts of the two of you together, as well as your fashion talent. Jungkook too had talked on the phone to his parents, you came to find out, which was why his parents were so enthralled by you, despite only dating Jungkook for a short time.

Lunch was fun. Spending time with the Jeons was full of laughter. His family was like him, generous and kind hearted, and you enjoyed spending time with his mom in the kitchen making cookies for dessert.

That night you went out for a drive to look at Christmas lights, before you all stopped off at the town center where they had outdoor ice skating set up. Jungkook had his camera with the new personalized strap you made him (yay fashion classes!) around his neck, taking photos of you and his family as you glided across the frozen water. You spent an hour there before heading home to warm up with hot cocoa and Christmas movies. You found out that this was their tradition every year, and it made you happy to know they wanted to share it with you. Even if it was only for this one Christmas.

Having showered first, you traveled down the hall to get water from the kitchen while you waited for Jungkook to finish his. His family had a one level house; His parents’ room was located on one side of the living room and kitchen, while Jungkook and his brother’s room was on the other side. 

You heard his parents talking at the table and you slowed down, resting the back of your head on the wall as you heard them say your name.

“Oh, honey, Y/N is so darling! I haven’t seen him this happy in years.”

“He looks so in love with her.”

“Well, remember, he used to have the biggest crush on her.”

“But that was years ago. They were what, 20? And somehow he chose Somin?”

“Sometimes, people aren't ready. Now, they’re older. Better chances of them working out. Oh, honey, I hope they work out. She would be such a cute daughter in law.”

“I know, but don’t pressure them. Let them realize how in love with each other they are on their own.”

“Do you think she loves him too?”

“I don’t have a single doubt in my mind. I saw the way they were together.They’re in love, whether they realize it or not.”

“Ahh, so we could have grandchildren soon? JungHyun seems like he’s never going to settle down... ”

“Aish, grandchildren? I’m too young to be a grandpa!”

Instead of interrupting them, you headed back to his room, mind racing with their words. Jungkook had a crush on you? They thought the two of you were in love? Daughter in law? Jungkook chose that moment to come into the room, towel wrapped low around his waist as he checked his phone and you couldn’t look away.

“You’re starting to drool there, babe.”

You swallowed and looked away, grabbing your hair and running your fingers through it to put it into a bun on your head.

“I just uh—I wanted to talk to you about the contract.”

Jungkook, who was facing his dresser where his suitcase was opened up, froze. His eyes sought yours in the mirror, his reflection giving away nothing.

“Oh? What, uh, what about it?”

“Well, our parents seem to like us together, I mean, they’re talking about grandkids, and well, I would hate to break up so soon after having met them. I know this was only supposed to go on until you figured out what to do about Somin, but if it’s alright with you,” you look away, twisting your fingers in nervousness, “I would like for us to continue to date.”

Jungkook’s mind was racing. He understood what you meant. Your parents seemed to love him, discussing future visits for the holidays and his family had been no different. And thinking about ending the contract? Well, he had already been thinking about doing that. So he could date you, for real. Somin texted him while he was in the shower, upset about missing Christmas with his family. Jungkook thought that it would bother him, his first holiday without her, but he realized he couldn’t care less. 

Somin treated him like a prize to be toted around and shown off. He was good for bragging; his face, body, high paying job, it all granted her status. She had no ambition to grow within the company, still a one act manager after graduating as an interning manager’s assistant. But you? God, you were different. You had ambition, you didn’t care about what Jungkook could provide for you, and you listened to him, to his dreams. You were thoughtful, appreciative, and everything you had done was to help him be happy. Even fake dating, while it benefitted you as well, you had gone above and beyond for him.

You stood up, walking closer to him where he was lost in his thoughts.

“Jungkook?” you intoned, your fingers softly settling on the back of his shoulder, waiting for his response.

“I think, yeah. I think that would be a good idea. My parents and brother love you.”

Your heart soared. He wanted to continue this. Not go back to Somin right away. He barely brought her up this whole trip. You felt giddy, hopeful that maybe one day, this could be something more.

“So then, it’s settled.”

Jungkook turned around, catching your hand before you could drop it back to your side.

“I think we should reexamine that contract, but tonight, I’d really like to say fuck it.”

Jungkook stepped into your space, and in a heart’s beat, he had ensnared your lips, his arms pulling you closer to him. Your own arms snaked up his body, hands pulling his head closer to you, your fingers playing with the wet strands at his nape. His kisses were fervent, lips almost rough as he pressed them to yours before he was swiping his tongue across the opening of your mouth, seeking entrance. 

You groaned as you arched your back, seeking to deepen the kiss as you pressed higher on your tiptoes, wanting more of him. His palm skimmed your back down to your butt, where he applied pressure and lifted you with brute strength. You pulled away with a gasp, not expecting to be lifted up. He just looked at you with pupils blown, one eyebrow raised suggestively as he carried you to his bed.

“I think we should practice making ‘grandchildren’ for them.”

He set you down, long enough to grip the hem of your shirt before he pulled it over your head. His eyes moved to your chest, and he closed his eyes as he sighed in defeat.

“You’ve been keeping this from me?”

“You’ve seen me naked before,” you remind him, but he just shook his head.

“Years ago, Y/N, and let me tell you, my memory didn’t do you justice. I think I need a reminder.”

You throw him a suggestive look, knowing that you’ve both had some experience with sex since your shared first time all those years ago. This time, there was no fumbling, no nervous laughter, or apologizing. This time, Jungkook was in command of his body, and of yours too. He rid you of your shorts, leaving you naked on his sheets as he dropped his towel. 

You marveled at how his body had changed: the muscle gained and the chiseled jaw you loved to admire. Jungkook bit his lip and did the same to you, eyes roving along your curves, the way you weren’t shying away from his touch as his fingers trailed up your thigh.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond, as Jungkook kissed you again, this time with less fervor, his body crawling above yours as he joined you on the bed. His hands touched you everywhere, fondling your breasts and your ass as he kissed down your neck, nipping the skin and leaving marks along your neck. You feel the ache as your wetness pools between your legs, and Jungkook’s growing member sits heavy where it’s pressed against your thigh. 

“Jungkook, please—”

He nips a bit harder, the sound of you begging for him made him infinitely larger. He wanted to be in you, but he didn’t want to rush it, wanted to savor you for as long as he had you under him. Kissing down your body, his tongue leaves a cool, wet trail and you writhe, ticklish to his tongues path to your core. 

Parting your legs wider, he smirked at you from where he's sat on his knees, your thighs on either side of his gloriously naked body. Leaning forward, he never breaks eye contact as you watch his lips meet your mound. Gentle kisses pressed to your lips, and then his tongue is parting them, flicking your clit in greeting. Your head is thrown back, you know you should be quieter, but the onslaught of his lips and tongue as they pleasure your sweet spot has you reduced to base instincts only. And right now, they want Jungkook to know that he had better not stop.

You rolled your hips, seeking more, and he gives in, thick fingers immersing themselves inside of you. You clench, walls shocked at the intrusion but welcoming it all the same. He felt so good, and you tell him as much, so he continued to finger fuck you as he lapped up your release, carrying you through your orgasm.

He was so hard, cock throbbing as he kissed back up your body, and after spitting into your hand, you reached down to stroke along his shaft, palm twisting and gliding as he nuzzled his face back into your neck, quiet little moans rolling out of his mouth with each stroke. You made him feel so good, your body warm and soft as your smaller hand stroked his larger ego, in more ways than one.

Without preamble, you positioned him at your opening and lifted your hips, allowing him to feel how warm your walls were, waiting for him. He pushed up on his palms on either side of your head and the look he gave you was indecipherable before your own eyes shut; he engulfed his cock in the swollen velvet that was your cunt, buried to the hilt.

He had tried his best to prepare you, but every glorious inch stretching you out was a breath you needed to take in order to grow accustomed to his size. You counted nine breaths, then opened your eyes, taking in the trembling of his arms as he held himself back from pounding into you.

“Move, Kook, please,” you whine, and he wasted no time following your orders.

His hips grinded into you as he rolled them, angling himself to take you as deep as humanly possible. His pace started off fast, but soon he was slowing down, head dropped into the crook of your neck as your nails dragged red marks down his back. You rocked your hips in time to his thrusts, using your grip on his back as leverage to meet him halfway. 

“You feel so good, so wet for me,” he murmured with each thrust, and you bit his shoulder, afraid if you didn’t gag yourself, you would say the wrong thing.

Everything about you enveloped him, your scent, your arms and thighs that were holding him close; he could barely think straight as he tried to get you to cum again before he got himself off. But you felt so good, tight clenches as your arousal gushed and coated his cock, he didn’t know how much longer he could last. Then you bit his shoulder, and he sped up his stroke, hips rolled in fast succession as your body jostled underneath him.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m so close baby,” you mewl into his ear, and he lifted his head up out of your neck, resting his forehead on yours. 

“I want to watch you, don’t close your eyes,” he pleads and you try your best to keep them open, not closing them for long as the coil builds in your lower abdomen. He adjusted your bodies, lifted your legs up slightly which allowed him a deeper angle that hits your g-spot. Your mouth hangs open, a fucked out expression on your face and Jungkook loses it.

The first spurt of his hot cum sends you over the edge, and you're spiraling down, pussy contracting around his cock, milking him for every drop. You maintain eye contact, watching each other for a few seconds before you can’t help but close them, the pleasure too great.

Jungkook pressed his lips to yours as you both cum, using them to cage in the words he wanted to say, wanted to shout from the rooftops, but wasn’t yet sure you felt the same way.

——

Waking up in Jungkook’s arms, you felt sore. So sore, but also satisfied. You hadn’t slept this well in ages, and if Jungkook’s deep slumber and dead weight arm draped over your waist was anything to go by, he hadn’t either. You moved his arm slowly, headed for the shower, and let out a small gasp as JungHyun also exited his bedroom at the same time.

“Well, don’t you look... rested,” he trailed off, a look of knowing on his face.

Your face burned in embarrassment.

“Don’t worry, as soon as I heard little brother start to get a little… feral, I turned up my TV while I gamed. Parents didn’t hear a peep.”

“Thank you, oppa.” You bowed, gratitude seeping out of each of your pores.

“Now, those marks on the other hand,” he gestured to your neck, “might I suggest an ice pack for 20 minutes and then some really good makeup?”

You hurried into the bathroom as he laughed his way towards the kitchen. A minute later he knocked, passing you a small ice-pack through the cracked door.

“20 minutes,” he reminded you with a wink, and went back into his room with his cereal.

—

Saying goodbye to Jungkook’s parents after a late breakfast was tough. His mom cried, saying her baby son did not visit enough and that she would miss him. She also said she would miss you greatly, and that you better come back with him soon to visit.

It was tough to promise her that you would, knowing that there was a very real chance that you wouldn’t. This was fake after all. You had just agreed to extend the contract briefly, to get through the holidays and while Jungkook said ‘fuck it’ last night, with the rising of the sun came the clarity of the situation. 

Jungkook behaved much the same, holding your hand and showering you with PDA, and while you reciprocated, you couldn’t help but feel like the magic of Christmas was over. Heading back to Seoul meant back to reality. You weren’t sure you were ready for that. For the first time in your life, you felt like you could see a future with someone, with him, despite the relationship being fake thus far. To be honest, it hadn’t felt fake since the night of the party. 

The entire trip, all 3 and a half hours of it, you ruminated on last night and what it meant. You hated to admit that you had fallen for Jungkook, and had given up rule number 7 on a whim. For all you knew, he would be going back to Somin at the end of this. 

In his own little world, Jungkook too couldn’t stop thinking about you and what last night meant. He wished he had said to forget the contract all together, instead of just for the night. He wanted to see if you felt the same way, but he wanted to be sure that his Somin chapter was done. He needed to see her and make sure he was over her, and not just using you as a rebound. You didn’t deserve that.

Jungkook’s body language had you on edge, as his foot tapped incessantly as the train got closer and closer to Seoul. You placed your hand on his knee, a reassuring move for both of you. 

“Jungkook, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just—Somin messaged me.” He had been thinking about it the whole trip back to Seoul, about how her messages didn’t affect him anymore. Before, he could barely go a few minutes before responding. Now, almost 18 hours had passed and he wasn’t bothered.

“When?” Your voice came out sharper than intended, and Jungkook flinched back from you.

“Uh, last night, right after I got out of the shower.”

Your brain began to connect dots that you didn’t want it to.

“Oh,” you respond, trying to keep your voice light. Jungkook was confused at your reaction; usually you were jumping to keep him and Somin apart. This response felt like you didn’t care, like if he met up with Somin, it wouldn’t impact you at all.

“She just… I think that you’re right. The plan is working and I’ve been happier than I’ve been in a long time. But I guess there’s that part of me that needs to talk with her, express how I feel. I want to be sure.” Before I confess my feelings to you, he thought.

“Right. Well, that was the goal, getting you to figure out what you want.” You turned your head away from him and deeper into the neck pillow, trying to get this conversation done and over with before he said something that really broke your heart.

“I know. I guess I’ll meet up with her when we get back? The sooner the better I guess.”

“True, the faster you meet with her, figure it all out, the faster we can move towards breaking up.”

Jungkook freezes, but you don’t notice, too focused on not looking at him.

“At breaking up?”

“Yea, that was the plan right? We date for a couple more weeks, then break up, so you can get back with Somin, if she’s changed, you know?”

“You—”

“Hey Jungkook? I’m really tired, can we talk about this later?”

Jungkook stared at your form, taking in how closed off you were from him. He didn’t understand what changed. He sat back, finally replying to Somin’s text, agreeing to meet at a cafe by his apartment later that evening.

—

Jungkook saw you home, worried the entire ride to your place about what was happening between the two of you. He thought everything had been going well, and after last night, he didn’t know how he could have possibly fucked up. He hoped you were just PMS-ing, like Somin used to always blame moods like this on. 

You let him carry your suitcase upstairs to your apartment and when he leaned in for a kiss, you kissed him back, but he felt it was almost out of obligation; your sister was sitting on the couch watching the two of you. Jungkook paused at your door, but you had turned away from him, so ready to be alone. So he let you close the door in his face, let you have time to yourself.

Jungkook got to the cafe, eyes searching for the long black hair of his ex. When he approached her she smiled at him. Jungkook saw the way her face lit up, the way the smile graced her pretty face, and felt nothing for it. Sitting down, a cafe worker took their drink order and left them alone.

“So, you said you wanted to talk?” Jungkook asked, fidgeting with his fingers drumming on his knee.

“Kookie, I miss you.” Somin leaned toward him, chest pushed out in her off the shoulder zebra print dress. Her black heel nudged against Jungkook’s leg, rubbing it suggestively.

Jungkook moved his leg out of reach and sighed.

“Somin—”

“Minnie.” She pouted, red painted bottom lip jutting out after she cut him off to correct her name.

“Somin. I—I’m sorry.” Jungkook felt awkward. Here he was, sitting in front of his ex, who was undoubtedly a gorgeous woman. But after all they had been through—all she put him through—and all the healing you had done to his heart, he realized he had fallen out of love with her a long time ago. “I know you had hopes of us getting back together.”

“Well, of course we’re getting back together Kookie. We’re made for each other. Since we were 20! I know this thing with Y/N is just revenge. You wanted to make me mad, teach me a lesson,” she said as she reached out and grabbed Jungkook’s hand in hers, “and I have learned it. Christmas without you was so sad. I had no one to go out to all the holiday parties with.”

Jungkook shifted in the metal chair. “Look, Somin—”

“Why do you keep calling me that?” she interrupted again, and Jungkook let out a loud sigh as he tried to maintain his cool.

“Because, I’m trying to tell you that I—”

“Jungkook! Somin!”

The loud yell of the barista reading out orders cut Jungkook off for the third time, and he groaned, running his tattooed hand over his face. With a huff, he stood up, walking through the crowded cafe to get the drinks so he could just tell Somin the truth; he may have initially wanted to teach her a lesson, but he ended up being the person who learned something from it. He was in love with you; wanted to spend more holidays like the one that just passed, with you. He truly didn’t feel anything for Somin anymore, other than friendship.

While Jungkook was up, Somin noticed his bag was open, a fancy camera strap hanging out of it. It was embroidered; the phrase ‘you shine brighter than anyone’ apparent once she pulled it free from his oversized black backpack. Somin threw a glance over her shoulder at Jungkook, seeing him still busy, so she stuffed the strap into her purse. Grabbing her phone, she sent a text to Taehyung.

Jungkook set down the drinks before sitting down himself and commanding the attention of his ex. 

“Look, Somin, I just—I’m sorry.” Jungkook looked down at his hands before making eye contact with her. “I don’t see us getting back together. I—” he paused, taking a deep breath before he spoke his truth, “I’m in love with her, Minie. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but I want to be happy. I want you to be happy with someone who feels about you, how I feel about her.”

Somin stared at Jungkook before she laughed. He was unsure of the emotions she was actually feeling; perplexed by her reaction to what he just told her. He didn't want to be with her anymore, and he wasn’t looking for her to beg, but he expected a little more... sadness? Push back? Once she was done laughing, she leveled her gaze at him.

“You, you’ve barely been seeing her Jungkook. How can you love her?”

Jungkook took a sip of his drink, gathering his thoughts before he answered her. The judgement that laced her tone made him angry, but he didn’t want to give Somin the upper hand. He wanted to be an adult about the situation. In retrospect, he hadn’t been honest with Somin when she first confessed to him, and you deserved for him to share that honesty now, even if it was coming 5 years later.

“I think—I think a part of me has always loved her. Since that first year. Don’t get me wrong, I think I loved you too and at some point we just… I think we just broke up and then made up too many times because it was easy… familiar. I love you Minie, and you were a huge part of my life. I’m just not IN love with you.” Jungkook leaned forward towards Somin, placing his hand over here, hoping that she would see and feel his sincerity and his benevolence. 

“Wow, I—You’re serious?” Somin’s voice was quiet as she questioned him. “I guess I didn’t think I’d be starting the new year without you.”

Jungkook watched as she slid her hand out from under his and placed it in her lap.

“Please, be happy for me Minie, and when you’re ready, I’ll be happy for you too.”

The loud chime from Somin’s phone went off. Jungkook watched as she looked at her screen, eyes growing wide.

“Shit, an emergency with Tae.” Somin looked up at Jungkook, her face soft and apologetic.

“Koo—I mean Jungkook, I was just surprised is all. I—I am happy for you and Y/N. Or, I guess it’s more like, I will be. I’m sorry, I have to run, but thank you for meeting with me.”

Somin gave him one last smile, as if showing she was throwing the towel in, before she stood up and left the cafe in a hurry. Jungkook watched her as she dashed off, disappearing down the sidewalk towards the nearest bus stop. He thought the meeting had gone well, or at least better than expected. Maybe Somin has grown up, he thought to himself, unaware of the way she made off cunningly with his gifted camera strap, using a text that confirmed the time for the next morning’s meeting with Taehyung as an excuse to escape.

——

After closing the door in Jungkook’s face, you retreated to your room, claiming that a headache was creeping in from the long train ride. Your sister nodded, engrossed in her latest K Drama. You rolled your suitcase into your room, stripped your travel clothes from your weary body, and entered your shower. 

Free to do as you pleased, with the water to cover the sound, you wept. How foolish you felt, letting Jungkook close to you once again, only to see him rush off to Somin. It was almost like what happened 5 years ago, when you had gone to his dorm room and found her confessing. Just like then, Somin was winning Jungkook; once again he had slipped through your grasp.

That night you texted Jungkook to tell him you would be going to the office early and that he needn’t pick you up.

Jungkook was relieved upon seeing your text. He had spent the better half of the evening and the morning tearing apart his apartment. He had called his parents, his brother, and overturned his luggage onto the floor. He could not find the camera strap you made him. 

He knew that he shouldn’t have taken it off the camera, but he spilled a bit of leftovers from his mom on it while on the train and removed it to make it easier to clean once he got home. 

Unfortunately, it was nowhere to be found. 

Jungkook was frantic; he knew that you made it for him that night you sat in the sewing room with your mom and sister while he was with your dad. Your mom had an embroidery machine, and so you snuck in there under the premise of bonding time and worked on it. He loved the phrase you chose for him; it reminded him of your love letter to him, the way you had written about him making you feel as beautiful as a night sky. “you looked at me as if the galaxies were reflected in my eyes...”

Dumping out his black backpack for the umpteenth time, Jungkook sifted through notebooks, film, wrappers from snacks, a small hygiene bag, and loose photos. He doesn’t know why he continued looking through the same places. It’s not there. Glancing at the clock, he realized he would be late to the Monday morning meeting. Giving up and putting everything he needed back into his bookbag, he stepped over the mess and headed out to his car.

Walking into the conference room, everyone looked tired from their holidays, but with the New Year around the corner, it was important for everyone to attend before January. SeoulM8’s comeback was fast approaching, and making sure everything was moving smoothly was imperative to whether the next holiday was spent relaxing or spent stressed out. 

Stirring your coffee, you walked through the propped open door and maneuvered your way over to where your assistants sat. Kim, the same one who brought you the tiger lillies several weeks ago, smiled at you as she slid you the stapled packet she printed out from the email.

“I think we’ve done all our parts, the photos Jeon emailed over have been approved by the boss, and we double-checked the designers they are wearing. I think all that’s left is to get final approval on the outfits for their comeback shows and interviews during comeback week.” 

You nodded, sipping the still hot coffee as Kim spoke quietly about the role you played for SeoulM8, eyes on the printed email. It didn’t help the way you could feel the mocha eyes of a certain ‘missing in action’ best friend burning into the side of your face; or the way the empty seat across from you saved for a certain ‘boyfriend’ of yours had your anxiety on edge.

With 5 minutes left until the meeting commenced, you had done a pretty good job at tuning out all of the mindless chatter around you, that is until Somin’s nasally voice interrupted your response to Kim.

“Oh, this? It’s just a little gift for JK.”

“But you broke up? He’s with Y/N now...” Hobi said, cutting off a reply from one of the assistants sitting near Somin.

“But we dated for 5 years, he’s still important to me. I think he’ll love it.” She turned her back to Hobi, who tried to make eye contact with you. You looked down at your coffee instead.

When Jimin and Taehyung walked into the room, everyone quieted down and took their seats if they weren’t already, assuming Bang PD, the head boss, would be quickly approaching behind them. Before the glass door could swing fully shut, Jungkook sprinted into the room, out of breath.

“Oh Jungkook, here!” Somin stood up, making a big show out of handing him the small gift bag that had been on the table in front of her. 

“Oh? Uh, thanks Minie.” Jungkook said, looking for the head boss. Bang PD was still missing from the room, so he grasped the colorful tissue paper from the bag and removed it in one swift pull. As the paper fluttered to the table, Jungkook’s eyes lit up as he took in the present.

“Oh my God, thank you!” Jungkook wrapped his arms around Somin in a huge hug, surprising everyone in the room watching, including you. Despite all of your negative thoughts about you and Jungkook’s future, seeing him react that way was unexpected and you felt your heart ache seeing him hold her in an embrace.

Sitting down, Jungkook turns to talk to Somin when you notice Bang PD walking down the long hallway towards the closed glass doors. 

You turned to the front of the room where SeoulM8 was seated next to the only empty chair in the room, fully intending to pay attention, but Jungkook’s movements directly across from you pulled your attention away. When you see the embroidered strap that YOU had given to him for Christmas a mere 2 days ago slide free from the bag, you see red. Before Bang PD can enter the room, you’ve already stood up. 

Both Namjoon and Jungkook look at you, followed by everyone else’s gaze; it’s too late to hide the tears that fall down your face. 

“Y/N, I can explain—” Jungkook said as you make your way around the table toward the door. He grabbed your wrist to stop you, but you pulled it from his grasp.

“Save it, Jeon. It’s over.”

You leave the meeting, walking brusquely past your boss with your head down. You type out a quick text to him as you take the elevator down, apologizing for leaving and saying that an emergency came up. Bang PD responds within a few moments.

Back in the conference room, Jungkook attempted to call you, but you sent him to voicemail twice. Giving up, he grabbed his bag, fully planning to follow you, when he saw Namjoon stand before he could. Throwing a dirty look at Jungkook, Namjoon shook his head at him before quickly following you out the door. 

You haven’t gone far, making it only to your office where you gathered up the rest of your belongings when Namjoon burst in.

“Y/N,” he sounded a little out of breath, probably from running to the elevator and then to your office, you assumed, “I—”

“Save it, Joon. You didn’t want to talk to me these past few weeks, so I don’t know why you’re here now.”

“Because I realized I love you.”

You stopped packing up your laptop, eyes slowly moving to meet his.

“What did you say?”

“I said I love you. I didn’t realize it until you started dating Jungkook, but I do.”

You shook your head back and forth, unable to hear or deal with his feelings right now.

“No, Namjoon, you don’t. You just miss Jennie.”

“Y/N, listen, I should’ve realized it was you. It’s always been you. You can’t honestly tell me that you’re in love with Jungkook?” Namjoon said this last part with contempt.

Tears fell once again, and you dropped your hands uselessly to your side.

“I do, Namjoon. I honestly love him.”

“Well, I hate to say I told you so, but-”

“Then don’t,” you voiced, cutting him off with an edge to your voice.

“You and Jungkook? Please. Anyone can see how different you are. You and me, though? We’re better for each other.”

“How different we are? Why? Am I too out of his league? Not pretty enough?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying, and you know it. You guys just aren’t compatible—”

“And how the fuck would you even know?! You saw us together at what? One party? And then at work? What do you even know about our relationship, Joon?! You’ve been angry at me ever since you found out!”

“Because you and him together isn’t right! It’s supposed to be you and me!”

“Oh please, Namjoon. If Jennie hadn’t taken that Japan job and dumped you, you wouldn’t even be here right now. I wouldn’t have even crossed your mind. This is a pointless conversation.”

You walked towards the door, bag over your shoulder and laptop case in hand. Namjoon blocked the doorway, and behind him you could see nosey coworkers watching the interaction. 

“Move, Namjoon.”

“Not until you talk to me.”

“No,” you go to shoulder past him, and you were able to back him up into the common area outside of your office. He grabbed at your shoulders, holding you still. 

“Namjoon, let go of me!” At this moment you hated that you had dressed up for this meeting; a tight a-line pencil skirt and heels that don’t allow you the movement that you needed.

Before you can shimmy from his clutches, he’s leaning forward, his lips meeting yours in a kiss. In shock, you don’t move at first, not until your free hand shoved his shoulder and pushed him a step back.

“I can’t believe you.” 

The look you gave him could burn the sun, and this time you were able to push past him; the elevator getting closer and closer as you approached. You saw Jungkook, motionless, at the platform in front of the elevators; his eyes low in a glare aimed at Namjoon, who had followed you in your haste to escape.

“Hyung, you need to leave her alone.”

“Me? I’m her best friend. I would say you were her boyfriend, but we all heard her break up with you when she left the room crying.”

“That was just a misunderstanding. So like I said, leave her alone.” Jungkook stepped forward to his full height, chest to chest with his hyung, who prior to watching him force a kiss on you, he respected a lot. The tension on the floor was thick. You were mere steps from freedom, from Namjoon and Jungkook, when his words stopped you dead in your tracks. A misunderstanding? 

Did he not understand what the words ‘It’s over’ meant? That the contract, the relationship between the two of you, however real or fake, everything was null and void? 

“It wasn’t a misunderstanding, Jungkook.”

Big, confused, doe eyes turned to face you. “Y/N, please let’s just talk about th—”

“Why don’t you take your own advice and listen to her, Kook. You could never treat her how she deserves.” 

“Why don’t you go mind your own business Namjoon.” Jungkook bit back, fists clenched as he shook, holding back his anger. He just wanted to be alone to talk to you, but Namjoon was making it difficult.

“She is my business, she’s my best friend. She’s nothing to you now. Though, knowing you, that’s probably the reason she broke up with you. I bet you didn’t treat Somin right, and now you fucked up with Y/N. Can’t do anything right, can yo—”

Jungkook’s fist flew through the air before you could tell either of them to stop talking about what they don’t know. The sound of Namjoon’s jaw connecting to his fist echoed through the large room, and the crowd of bystanders yelled out in shock at watching a full on fight start in the building.

You yelled as Namjoon tackled Jungkook around his middle, tackling him to the ground before he reared back his fist to punch him back. 

“Namjoon, stop, STOP!” you yelled as Jungkook flipped Namjoon onto his back, swapping places as he took the liberty to return the blow. Putting down your laptop and bag haphazardly, you rushed closer. Leaning down, you grabbed at Jungkook’s arm that was cocked back to throw another punch, yelling his name frantically.

“Jungkook, Kookie, PLEASE STOP!”

The two men looked at your face, their chests rising and falling rapidly as they tried to catch their breath. Jungkook’s eyes were dilated. As he took in your state, he seemed to come back to his senses. He started to climb up off of where he straddled Namjoon, pinning him to the floor, his hand reaching up towards you from where he was kneeled on the ground.

“Y/N, I’m sorry baby, please just talk to me.” Jungkook’s bottom lip was split, a small bit of blood leaking from the cut. His cheekbone was red; you knew a bruise would form there. Namjoon too tried to sit up, leaning on his elbow as his split eyebrow spilled his blood down the side of his face. He too would be sporting a shiner for the next week or so. 

You almost reached for Jungkook, returned the gesture to cradle that beautiful face, but you couldn’t. Him fighting Namjoon changed nothing about the fact that Somin had the present you gave him, that she brought it to him as if she had given it to him, let alone the response he gave her when he saw it. Backing away, you almost tripped over your belongings before you thought to collect them, and then dashed into the elevator, leaving the two men bleeding on the floor as the doors shut, cutting off the view.

——

Dealing with the aftermath of the fight was not something you thought would be so difficult to do. 

Working remotely meant not being able to turn off your phone so you didn’t miss any important calls or texts. Unfortunately, it also meant you had to deal with the barrage of texts and calls from friends and co-workers wanting to know about the fight. 

According to Jimin, the only person other than Kim who you were responding to, the whole office heard about the fight. With Jin being Jungkook’s roommate, and of course being the resident gossip, news traveled fast that the two men got into a fist throwing match over you. This only had you double down on avoiding messages, calls, and not posting to social media. It was unlike you; as a fashionista who worked with models and artists like SeoulM8 and Kim Seokjin, people looked to your accounts for updates. 

Your silence was killing Jungkook, the one person who had not given up. Jungkook hated to not give people time, but he had the feeling like the more time you had, the faster you would slip from his fingertips. You stared at your phone, watching his name light up on the screen as a picture of the two of you, set as his contact photo, taunted you with memories. 

All you could do was lay there, curled up on your bed in your pajamas for the second day in a row, hating yourself. Hating the fact that you allowed yourself to break your rules, that you let Jungkook into your heart for a second time, only to watch it all come crashing down because he couldn’t let go of Somin. What did Somin have that you didn’t? How was it that she always won?

5 years ago you lost Jungkook to her, after giving him your virginity, something he knew was a big deal, as he had given his to you in exchange. And now again, you had so foolishly fallen into bed with him again, and he ran back to Somin. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice? You were already blaming yourself heavy for this one. 

Another day passed before you finally pulled yourself up out of bed long enough to shower and get dressed in a different set of sweats. A knocking sound at the front door had you tense up. Luckily, your sister answered the door, able to field away anyone who wanted to see you.

Creeping silently to the door of your bedroom, you cracked it open and listened to see who was there. From the angle you could see your sister, but not who was outside, nor could they see you. The warm tone was instantly recognizable, and your eyes widened as your sister looked back at you. Shaking your head profusely, she denied entry and shut the door, walking over to you. You back away from the door, letting her in as you sit on your bed. Crossing your legs, you grabbed a stuffie and clutched it to your chest.

“Hey, can you tell me what happened? Why are you hiding out at home and not answering Jungkook’s calls? What’s going on?”

You sighed, taking a much needed breath before you recounted the whole story. You told her about the journal entries being sent out, about how Namjoon had confronted you leading to you lying and saying you were with Jungkook, who came up with the plan to fake date each other until the Somin and Namjoon issues calmed down for both of you. 

She listened intently, shocked to hear that it was all fake, and she told you as much once you finished sharing about the fight that ensued on Monday.

“Sis, that man loves you. I could see it when he came to the door. I think you should talk to him.”

“No. It’s all my fault all of this happened anyways. If I hadn’t been drunk and sent those messages out, I would have never had to lie to Namjoon and start all of this.”

Yuna squirmed in your computer chair, her mouth twisted as if holding herself back.

“Actually, you didn’t do that.”

“What are you talking about Yuna? I saw the messages. I took the photos the night before because I wanted to upload them to an online journal platform.”

She nodded her head, wringing her fingers in her hand. “I know that, but you didn’t send them… I did.”

You stared at her, anger silently rising as you waited for her to continue. 

“I waited until you got into the shower. You know I read the entry to Namjoon, and so when you got into the shower, I used your phone and sent a message to each guy who’s name was both in the book and in your phone. I wanted you to have someone, instead of always spending your evenings at home, bored.”

“Yuna, you knew that I did not want Namjoon to know, he and Jennie had just... and I was trying to protect him, do you see what this did?!” You threw the plushie at her angrily, standing abruptly.

“I can’t believe you would invade my privacy, you could have ruined my career, if one of those messages had been sent to the wrong person, god damn it Yuna! You’ve ruined my fucking life!”

Yuna was crying, but she set the stuffed bunny back on your bed gently before she got up and headed to leave your room. Pausing at the door, her hand poised on the door knob, she turned back to face you.

“I didn’t ruin your life. You finally had a life. You’re the one running away from it now.”

With those parting words, she left your room, closing the door and leaving you alone with your thoughts.

After Yuna left you, she went to her own room, where she scrolled through social media to find Jungkook. You already blamed her, though she felt like it was misplaced, but she felt like she might as well do something to help fix the situation. Finding Jungkook’s IG account from the photos you tagged him in, she followed him. When he returned the follow, she messaged him to contact her. 

It didn’t take long for him to respond, and she asked him to meet her out somewhere. Agreeing on a local park, Yuna changed her shoes and left you moping in your room, a note on the counter that she was headed out.

Sitting on the bench, it wasn’t hard to spot Jungkook. His tousled black hair peeking from under his black beanie and the familiar black jacket was easy to spot against the white snow that had recently fallen, but like a Seoul snowfall, it wouldn’t stick for long. Carrying a hot cocoa for him and herself, Yuna held it out to him before she sat down, sipping on the warm drink.

“Yuna, I will say I’m surprised you reached out to me.” Jungkook’s usually bright voice was tinged with sadness as he looked over at her.

“I have something to tell you.” Yuna started, and Jungkook’s nerves grew.

“I was the one who sent the journal entry to you. Not my sister.”

“Oh? Okay. Thank you for telling me I guess.” Jungkook took another deep pull from the drink, letting the heat fill his body as he swallowed.

“I mean, I sent it because I didn’t want her to grow old and be alone. Every night, coming home bored to drink wine with her baby sister and watch reruns on Netflix? I wanted her to fall in love. And she did. With you.”

“I don’t think so, Yuna. She wasn’t in love with me.”

“She was; she still is! She told me everything that happened. About how dating you was all fake. But I know it wasn’t. Not for her. And not for you. No one acts the way you two acted. I know my sister; when she told me what happened, I knew that she was hurt because she’s in love with you. Like, still in love with you. She just doesn’t believe you love her back.”

Yuna stared at Jungkook, watching the way her words sank in, waiting to confirm what she already knew: Jungkook was in love with you, too.

Jungkook’s voice was quiet when he finally spoke. “How do I convince her? That I love her back?” 

“I wish I knew Jungkook. I wish I knew. But if you don’t do something soon, I think you’ll lose her.”

——

Friday was New Year’s Eve, and you had to put up with Yuna running around like a lunatic cleaning the apartment to ring in the new year. You had finally resigned yourself to forgiving her for sending the journal entries. It was over and done with, and there was nothing more to do. Monday, you would be back at work like nothing happened, and didn’t want to go into the new year holding onto this year’s anger or sadness.

Yoongi, surprisingly, had reached out to you the day before about a party he was having to ring in the new year, and at first you didn’t want to go, but the longer you thought about it, you figured you should. Why spend the new year at home, where your sister would relentlessly tease you until she left. She had her own plans this year, going to a classmates to drink and watch the fireworks; so if you stayed home, you would be alone.

And you were tired of being alone. Sleeping in, you didn’t get up to join your sister in cleaning until later in the afternoon, going through your closet, bedroom, and bathroom.

You were scrubbing your shower when you heard the doorbell, but your sister, ever the nosey one, yelled that she would get it, so you continued cleaning, forgetting that someone had come to the door by the time you finished cleaning the bathroom. 

When you finally stopped cleaning for the day, it was close to 9 PM, so you decided to get ready for the night out at Yoongi and Hobi’s place. After about an hour and a half, you were dressed, makeup done, and ready for the party. You ventured out of your room, noticing a large blue hatbox on the kitchen counter.

“Yuna! What’s this blue box?” you yelled, and her reply carried from down the hall.

“A delivery, for you, from earlier!”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you grumbled, cursing your sibling as you reached to remove the lid off of it. Inside was what looked like a photobook, a beautiful ombre of pinks and purples decorating the cover. Removing it from the box, you flip it open, noticing right away the neat handwriting that could only belong to one person. 

Sighing, you carry it to the couch, where you read the inscription he penned inside. 

“Right at this moment, I think of you.” 

Flipping through the pages, you see he’s created a scrapbook of the past month spent together. Pictures of the two of you at work, the park, each other’s places, and visiting each other’s families. Pictures of you sleeping in his arms, candids where you aren’t even aware of him taking the photos.

Each photo is vibrant, in his style of catching the light just right as it caresses your face, and you’ve never seen yourself look so beautiful. He’s scribbled little notes here and there, of what he noticed or what was happening when he snapped the camera, and you can’t help but blush when you see a photo in there of you after the two of you had sex. 

“I reach out my hand, and feel your breath. With eyes closed, before we know it, we’re together.”

Your fingers trace over the photo, where Jungkook’s face is, looking at you so lovingly as you sleep on his chest, the bed sheets from his childhood bedroom covering you both strategically so nothing indecent shows. 

The last page has a handwritten letter, not unlike the one you wrote for him all those years ago, with a tiger lily pressed inside. You looked up the meaning of the flower earlier in the day when you found the large vase while cleaning. Please love me. With shaky hands, you held the photobook and began to read.

Y/N, 

5 years ago, you thought you were in love. I can tell you with certainty that 5 years later I pray that you are, because I am so in love with you. The way you see me, I don’t think I’ve ever been seen before. My whole life I’ve been behind the camera capturing others. And somehow you have taken the camera from me and now I’m the one being captured and seen. And I love it. You make me feel like I’m not just made up of the same ingredients that make up the stars in the sky, you make me feel like the very galaxy reflected in your eyes when you look at me. You’re beautiful, and I, Jeon Jungkook, am so in love with you. When I say I’ve always loved you, that there is no start, so there can be no end: we are fated—destined; you are mine as much as I am yours. These photos are only a fraction of the way I see you, the many shades that make up who you are, how could I ever capture them all? Please know, I want to spend the rest of time trying. So in case you didn’t see it, or weren’t sure: I love you. I want to be with you. No contracts, just you, wholeheartedly as mine, and me as yours.

——

It was nearing 11 when you reached Yoongi and Hobi’s house, leaving the Uber driver with a confused look at the way you dashed out of his car. You could care less; the man you were in love with was inside that house, right now, and you would be damned to let him get away again.

Pushing through the crowd of bodies, you looked side to side, searching for the familiar black tresses, ears straining to hear his musical laugh or catch someone saying his name. Entering the living room, your eyes fell on the beer pong table, where Jimin and Taehyung were playing against Yoongi and Hobi. 

Destination set on getting to that table, you wade through the throng of people with the obligatory happy new year. Some attempted to stop to ask you how you’ve been, fill you in on the latest office gossip, or inquire about the exact relationship status of Jungkook. Those in the latter category were met with major side-eye. Plastering a fake smile on your face each time, you finally shake the last of them, jogging the last few steps until your right on the edge of the game.

“Y/N! Glad to see you!” Hobi was his typical cheerful self, greeting you with his signature smile as he watched Taehyung try and line up his shot in the cups Yoongi just re-racked.

“Hey Hobi, Happy almost New Year! Have you seen Jungkook?” you asked, skipping straight to the point.

“Um, yea, he came by earlier to drop off a few kegs for us, helped us move the furniture, but he went home. Said he wasn’t really feeling like celebrating.”

Yoongi, who had just grabbed the ping pong balls before they bounced off the table, handed one to Hobi as he gave you a pointed look.

“Yea, looked pretty heartbroken all week, if you ask me.”

“Well, no one did Yoongi. Give her a break,” Hobi answered before turning to you, “he’s probably at home. You can get there before midnight if you get an Uber quick.”

Thanking him, you threw your arms around him and Yoongi in a shared hug before waving to the other two on the far side of the table. You had someplace to be.

Outside in the quiet, you requested an Uber, happy to see one not even 2 minutes away. Thankfully, Jungkook only lived 10 minutes or so from the guys. You hoped traffic would be on your side. You knew you were cutting it close; 11:30 was approaching fast.

The ride to Jungkook’s apartment gave you too much time to think. Those 15 minutes (thanks drunk pedestrians) on the car ride over allowed the nerves to settle in, along with the doubt and fears. What if he didn’t feel that way about you anymore? What if he just wanted to bring you the photobook as a goodbye?

Shaking the thought from your head, you took a deep breath before you climbed out of the car and into the hushed cold of the last day of December. You had never shown up to his place unannounced like this, so used to trailing him into his apartment. The closed door was daunting to you, but you didn’t have much time now.

Knocking louder than you needed to due to those pesky butterflies in your stomach, what feels like an hour is only 10 seconds or so until Jungkook is standing before you. 

“Hi,” you said, breathless from the cold and from the sight of him after so many days apart.

“Hi,” he responded, looking just as mesmerized to see you at his doorstep, “uh, wanna come in?” Jungkook took a step back, giving you space to come in and you stepped forward into the welcomed warmth of his home.

The scene before you is not what you were expecting. Jungkook had been sitting in the dark, a half eaten pizza and a beer bottle on the coffee table, with his favorite blue and grey plaid blanket haphazardly cast aside on the couch; most likely from when he stood to welcome you.

Shucking off your boots, you walked into the living room, Jungkook silently trailing you.

“I—I’ve missed you.” His voice is low, as if afraid he would spook you.

“I’ve missed you too.” You turned to face him, the light from the paused Netflix show reflecting in his beautiful orbs. You took in his face, split lip mostly healed and the bruise faded along his cheek.

“I got your gift.”

“I’m glad.”

The conversation between the two of you was static, neither sure of what to do. The silence ticked on for a few more seconds before you decided to stop being a pussy.

“Did you mean it? What you said?”

“Of course I did.”

“I’m glad,” you repeated his earlier phrase, stepping closer to him. You placed your hands on his chest, solid muscles reacting to your touch as he subconsciously flexed them. “Because I love you, too.”

Rising on your tippy toes, you pressed your lips to his, your body relaxing when you heard the sigh he let out from the contact. His hands pulled you closer, deft fingers gripping you in all the right places as he deepened the kiss. He tasted faintly of pizza and beer, and smelled so strongly of his vanilla musk. You couldn’t believe how much he felt like home to you. Being in his arms felt right. 

Bending slightly, Jungkook wrapped his arms under your thighs and lifted you up, never breaking the kiss. Hoisting you up, he carried you down the hall to his room, foot kicking the door shut behind him. So turned on by his show of strength, you rolled your hips down onto what was his growing length, seeking any friction that would help ease the ache between your thighs. 

Letting out a groan, Jungkook’s hands guided your hips roughly to where he wanted you, lining up your sweet spot so you could grind on him better. Licking into his mouth, your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. A slight tug exposed more of his neck, where you planted markers of your territory as you continued rolling your hips in time to his movements. 

“I want you.” The whispered words went straight to your core; hearing Jungkook’s voice break with need, need for you—you couldn’t get out of your clothes fast enough.

“Bed. Now.” You demand, and he laughs as he follows your directives, setting you down once he approached the edge of his queen sized mattress. You tug your jacket off, tossing it to the foot of his bed before peeling your shirt up over your head to reveal your bra to him. He doesn’t get to look too long; you’ve gripped the waistband of his grey sweatpants and pulled them low enough to free him from it’s confines. His cock sprung free, and, licking your lips, you switch positions with him. 

With his back to the bed, you pushed him down, and he went easily. Pressing your hand to his chest, you lay him back as you bend at the waist, bringing your mouth to his leaking head. You lick the bottom of his shaft up to the slit, collecting the pre-cum with the tip of your tongue before you take the head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip. Under your hand, you feel his abdominal muscles contract as he lets out a moan letting you know how good you feel as you take him farther into your mouth. 

Speeding your ministrations, you hollow your cheeks as you slurp around the head, using your hands to massage the dripping spit along the exposed skin you can’t reach. His hands grip your hair creating a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of your face so he can watch you. And wow, does he love the sight of your lips wrapped around his cock, innocent eyes blinking coyly up at him while your mouth is stretched around him. Keep it up and he could cum too quickly in your mouth.

When your free hand traveled to his scrotum, he jumped, feeling an overwhelming sense of pleasure as his sack tensed up.

“Wait, baby, I don’t want to cum yet.” Jungkook panted, and you pop off of him with a lewd sound that filled the quiet of his room.

Tugging you towards him, he scooted back on the bed until his head was flush with the headboard. 

“Strip for me,” he urged, and you did, undoing the button on your jeans and sliding them down until you were naked from the waist down. His eyes stared pointedly at your chest and you unclasped your bra, adding it to the growing pile of clothes the two of you had made. Watching as he shed his shirt before laying back fully, kicking his sweats free from his body, you climbed onto the bed, and he directed you farther up his body until he could maneuver your thighs to either side of his face. 

“Jungkook—”

“I’ve wanted you like this for so long, baby, please.”

Giggling softly, you lowered yourself slowly and he wound his arms around your thighs until his palms were wrestling lightly on them. The slow caress as he drew patterns on your skin matched the same pattern he drew with his tongue, you realized once he had you fully seated. Gripping the headboard, you threw your head back, rolling your hips as his lips and tongue ravaged you, the sexual sounds of him eating you out creating more for him to drink down. 

Curving your back to make you hunch forward, you adjust as the pleasure builds and you see his eyes, those bright galaxies staring at you as he pleasured you to climax and you tensed as the coil in your abdomen snapped, a mix of curse words and his name pouring from your lips as he worked you through it.

Placing your hands on his sweat laced forehead, you pushed to try and pull away from the overstimulation as he let out a laugh.

Scooting yourself down his body once he released you, you fell back and to the side of his muscular thighs, trying to catch your breath. You feel him moving, a low chuckle released as his hands grasped your wrists. Pulling you up, you see he’s now seated flush to the headboard, back against the soft grey padding. He guides your hips so that you straddle him, sitting your still sopping wet cunt onto his cock. Pressed against his stomach, he can feel the warmth emanating from your opening, and groaned, wanting to be inside of you.

Pressing his forehead to yours, his eyes meet yours as he intertwines your fingers before resting your interlocked hands behind your back at the curve of your ass.

“I love you.” His voice is strong, sure and confident in the words he says as he bares more than just his body before you. “I wanted you so badly back then, I want you even more now.” He presses a kiss to your lips, causing you to grind down on him. 

He kisses down your neck, hands still holding you in position over him. “Want to be inside of you, baby.” He nips at your neck, making you gasp, and when you rock forward, he’s rocking his hips down. 

The head of his cock presses against your core, and you settle back onto it, walls stretching to accommodate his girth. The two of you move in tandem, lips once again reunited in a raunchy kiss that only serves to turn you on more, sending enough slick between your lower lips to allow him to slip further into you until he’s bottomed out, a snug fit as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix. 

Releasing your hands, his large palms hold your back to pull you closer to him as you swivel your hips, rocking so the shaft slips in and out of you in short bounces. You rock, arms wrapped lazily around his neck as you play with the wet locks of hair as you ride him at your leisure, just enjoying the feel of your bodies connected as one. Chest to chest, you can feel the speed of his heart beat; it matches your own. 

“Can I go faster?” you asked, not wanting to go at a pace he wasn’t comfortable with.

“You can use me however you want, baby,” he replied, eyebrow cocked smugly as he gripped your waist tighter, “but please tell me I can cum inside.”

Nodding as you sped up, you bounced with more friction, his pelvic bone rubbing against your clit as you chased your high, fucking yourself on his formiddable cock.

“That’s it, fuck, baby, right there—” Jungkook’s moans, musical as he egged you on, brought you to your peak for the second time that night. Your walls clenched around him, and as your body froze, he took advantage of the moment to shift your bodies so you were on your back with your head to the foot of the bed. Bracing his feet on edge where his mattress met the headboard, he began to piston his hips into you, chasing his own high.

“Fuck, Jungkook, I’m gonna—again—” You can barely get the words out when your third orgasm is crashing around you, legs shaking from where they’re wrapped tightly around his narrow hips. Your release makes it wetter, and your swollen walls ache to feel his cum fill you.

“Gonna fill you up so good, baby, fuck a—baby into you, fuck, I want to see you carry my—my kid,” Jungkook’s cock is drowning in your essence, and hearing him talk about kids with you causes you to tighten around him, and he’s cumming, long ropes of his hot cum filling you until it’s seeping out around him as he continues to thrust indiscriminately, velvet muscle milking him dry.

Laying skin to skin in his bed, you laugh as the alarm clock numbers alert you to the fact that you had missed the New Year by 38 minutes. 

“What’s so funny?” Jungkook asked, eyes alight as he takes in your smile. 

“We missed New Year’s.”

“We didn’t miss it, we were simply enjoying our New Year’s kiss for longer than most.” He quipped back, fingers tracing patterns along your back. Your own nails were lightly scratching shapes into his chest as you rested your head on his shoulder. You spent the next 20 minutes of the first hour of the new year listening to him explain what happened with the camera strap, though you had already forgiven the incident. 

He wasn’t sure how Somin had the camera strap, though he suspected she stole it from his bag at the cafe. Jungkook told you about the meeting, how it helped him see that you weren’t a rebound; he was in love with you and while it was obvious to him, a part of him wanted to be sure before confessing to you. He didn’t want you to think he was rushing into things to get over his ex. He also apologized for fighting Namjoon, saying he was worried that seeing him fight would change how you viewed him, change his chances of being with you, this time for real.

“I love you, Jungkook, in case you didn’t know.”

“I love you too, in case you didn’t know.” 

“Hmm, but, I think we need to talk about children though, I think it’s a little too soon, despite our parents' ideas.” You giggled, and his cheeks turned red in embarrassment.

“It was just sex talk, we’re still just practicing, okay?”

Stretching, you roll away from his body, and he follows your body heat subconsciously, his body not wanting you far from him after almost a week of radio silence. 

“Hey, get back here, you’re mine.”

“Oh am I?” you teased, staying just out of his reach.

He pouted, accent slipping out as he moved closer to your retreating body.

“Yes, you’re mine, no rules, no contracts; just mine.”

“ ‘m all yours, baby,” you mumbled as you rubbed your nose to his in an eskimo kiss as he gathered you up in his arms, “and you’re mine.”

UPDATE (5.18.21): 1st Prologue is Out Now!

BTW, ily ⟢ summary: Taking place in the To All the Men I’ve Fucked Before (TATMIFB) AU, this pre-story is the backstory to you and Namjoon’s friendship. A year after losing your virginity to Jungkook, you meet Namjoon, who becomes your best friend… and who you want so much more with. Before you and Jungkook get it together in To All the Men I’ve Loved Before, there was BTW, ily.

Thank you all so much for reading! I plan on doing an epilogue and some drabbles to get more insight into the pasts of these characters! I love them so much, I don’t think I am ready to let go. The masterlist will be updated as more are added! TATMIFB Masterlist

↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2021. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

#hisunshiine #hisunshiine event #hisunshiine writings #bts au #bta fic #bts story #bts fanfic #jungkook #bts v #jimin #j hope #suga #jin #bts rm #jungkook story #bts v story #jimin story #j hope story #suga story #jin story #bts rm story #Netflix ReImagined BTS #hisunshiinewritings #bts fic #bts fanfiction #to all the boys au #tatbilb au #TATMIFB #hisunshiine: TATMIFB

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

Hello! So, something that always intrigued me is the concept of “reverse aus,” and I’ve been thinking about that in the context of Cobra Kai for a while now. How do you think it would go down if Demetri was the one to get roped into Cobra Kai? Obviously, I don’t think he would be as into as Eli canonically was (probably due to it becoming a special interest for him), but I’d be curious to hear your take on it. Would Eli end up going to Miyagi-Do like canon Demetri did, or would Demetri and Eli sort of become the new Evil Karate Husbands™️? And possibly, how do you think Demetri and Johnny’s dynamic would go? (I’m just going to awkwardly add that this is cc-tinslebee, coming to you live from my main blog because I don’t think Tumblr let’s sideblogs send asks-)

So this is actually the SECOND ask I’ve gotten about this scenario--Cherry sent in another one!--so I figured I’d give it a stab. Took me a while to work out how I think it would go and how everything would play out different if Demetri and Eli’s roles were reversed, but I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. I tried to make it more interesting than just “Demetri does all the stuff Eli does and Eli does all the stuff Demetri does.”

Also I lowkey LOVE the idea of Evil Karate Husbands and even though that isn’t the direction this particular AU goes in, I might do a divergent spin-off AU to explore that too??? Because man...the thought of Miguel desperately trying to save his two best friends who have fallen to the dark side...*cries*

Fair warning that this AU is gonna get dark as shit--I fully belive things would’ve gotten equally fucked up between them in a role reverse AU, just, ah...in slightly different ways. A lot of this will not be Happy Times later on, much like their canon relationship XD

OKAY TIME FOR PAIN, LET’S GOOOO

Longboi post so be warned!!!

Season 1

After getting his ass handed to him--for trying to stick up for Eli, no less--Demetri was pissed. Why the hell was he paying some guy to beat him up for daining to have a problem with him bullying his best friend? Going home in a rage, he nearly texted Miguel to tell him he was quitting--but something stopped him just before he hit Send.

He remembered the look on Eli’s face just after Kyler shoved him away. He remembered seeing Eli stiffen when Kyler grabbed him by the chin, practically feeling the terror emanate from his friend’s body. He remembered how completely and infuriatingly helpless he felt.

It certainly wasn’t the first time something like that had happened. But maybe if Miguel was onto something--maybe if karate really could protect him and Eli from the bullies--it could be the last.

Mr. Lawrence (or Sensei Lawrence, as he obnoxiously insisted on being called) hardly let up on bullying Eli. Even at Eli’s request not to call him “Lip” and the pleading of his star student Miguel Diaz himself, the man only seemed to crack down harder--in some sort of twisted effort to “toughen Eli up,” Demetri guessed. Demetri defended Eli every single time, not mincing any words mouthing off at Sensei Lawrence. It got Demetri punched in the face, flipped on the mat, saddled with much harder drills than the rest of the class, but he didn’t give a shit. He wasn’t about to let anyone treat Eli like that, no matter what pain he had to endure for it.

Johnny, meanwhile, is immensely annoyed by this obnoxious, sarcastic kid who just can’t stop running his mouth--but working him twice as hard as the rest of the class is proving to be fruitless in shutting him up. But, Johnny’s finding, Demetri constantly antagonizing him doesn’t have to be a hindrance. Anger like that can be weaponized--the more he provokes Demetri, the more he insults and belittles that Eli kid he’s so attached to, the harder Demetri punches. The quicker he moves when he fights. The stronger he kicks. Johnny sometimes comes home after training covered in nasty bruises, almost entirely from sparring Demetri--they’re enough to make Carmen and Rosa Diaz worry he’s getting jumped on the way home.

One day Johnny takes his ribbing of Eli just a little too far, hoping to get an especially vicious reaction out of Demetri. Eli, pushed to the end of his rope, runs out of the dojo, barely holding back tears. Demetri starts to go after him, but Miguel puts a hand on his arm and stops him, saying they can both check up on him later.

When Demetri finds Eli after practice, Eli’s sobbing. “I can’t do this anymore, Deme. No matter what you say to him, he just keeps picking on me. It never stops.” Demetri winces, because Eli isn’t wrong--Sensei Lawrence really hasn’t stopped bullying Eli at all, and while Demetri was busy letting himself get riled up by it, he didn’t actually think to see how it was affecting Eli. “Well, I know it sucks now, and Mr. Lawrence is a huge asshole, but we’re learning to be tough,” Demetri reasons. “We’re learning to be intimidating. A few more months here, and the bullies will never touch us again! Just like Miguel!” And Eli just scowls, uncharacteristically angry for his timid self, and says “Well, it’s not worth it if I have to feel like shit the whole time! If every time I step in here I get everything about me picked apart, over and over again! I’m done with this, Demetri.”

And just like that, Eli is out of the dojo. Demetri can’t help but be disappointed--he’d looked forward to them training together, and seeing Eli become a badass, fearless fighter who could hand Kyler’s ass to him after all those fucked up things he said to Eli. And to make matters worse, Sensei Lawrence doesn’t stop using Eli as fuel to rip out Demetri’s rage long after Eli’s gone. “Oooh, Loudmouth, feeling sad today? Missing Lip the Quitter?” “You keep throwing punches like that, and you could get beat up by that loser with the fucked lip you were so enamored with. Although knowing you, you’d let him win anyways.” And Demetri can’t help but hate the man, but damn, if it doesn’t feel good to land an especially good hit on him, or jab him in the thigh with a powerful kick.

But things aren’t bad--Demetri still has Miguel, and their new friend Aisha. Eli still hangs out with them outside of practice, and indulges Demetri in his ever-increasing ramblings about martial arts, no matter how nervous and uncomfortable karate tends to make Eli. If Demetri likes it that much, maybe he should make an effort to show interest in it. The four of them crash Yasmine’s birthday party, and Demetri even finds himself smooth-talking them into getting alcohol with his newfound confidence. After all, if he can land punches faster than a snake can strike, how difficult can it be to weasel his way into getting a little beer?

Meanwhile Moon, feeling understandably unfulfilled in her popular clique, takes an interest in the Cool New Karate Gang in town, and after apologizing to Aisha at the beach rager, the two strike up a friendship. She comes to hang out with their group more and more, and Eli finds her surprisingly easy to talk to. Moon constantly makes an effort to include him when the others get to wrapped up talking about karate, and he appreciates her kindness and sincerity. It’s odd, really, how easy it is to have a conversation with her, considering how nervous he tends to get around her. But Eli doesn’t think too much about it.

When it comes time for the tournament, Moon and Eli go together to support their friends. Eli finds his gaze flickering back and forth between Moon and Demetri, lingering on each of them longer than he would care to admit--and he can’t quite explain why. Something about Moon’s wide, excited smile, the smell of cherry shampoo in her hair...but also Demetri’s smug, triumphant smirk when he pulls off an especially impressive move, the way his wiry arm muscles ripple when he fights. They’re both just so...captivating.

Demetri, for his part, is ruthless. Much more so than Eli has ever seen him be. He’s always been sarcastic and cynical, but resigned to his fate--at the tournament, Demetri lashes out in vicious ways the old Demetri would never have had the courage to pull off. He talks shit to the other contestants far beyond what’s considered “sportsmanlike”--and Eli can tell he’s not holding back, with the theatrical body language channeling every awful thing he’s saying.

Demetri fights like lightning--he weaves and maneuvers and strikes at breakneck speed, a limber, flashing form hitting all across his opponent’s bodies before they have any idea what’s happening. He dodges hits and jumps aside like he has some cosmic sense of when and where they’re coming. And it scares Eli, seeing a viciousness and relentlessness in Demetri that he’s never encountered before--but somehow, he finds, he just can’t look away.

Season 2

After the tournament, Demetri’s life has never been better. At the summer’s start, he’s still riding the high of the Cobra Kai tournament win. He didn’t take home the trophy, but suffice to say he got much farther than anyone believed a scrawny, lanky nerd ever would, and he is incredibly smug about it. He realizes, at the end of the day, he’s gotten what he always wanted after all--the bullies don’t come near him and Eli at all, and he can rest easy, knowing Eli is finally safe. However, he’s so busy embracing his new skills that at times, he almost forgets that was ever even an issue. His newfound fighting prowess has caught the attention of Yasmine, of all people--maybe someone who can throw kicks that good isn’t as much of a loser as she originally thought.

She finds out after her family’s plans to go to France for the summer fall through, and she finally patches things up with Moon after their fallout at the beach party. Moon can’t stop gushing about how amazing Demetri was at the tournament--both she and her new friend Eli (who Yasmine definitely thinks seems like a weirdo, but hey--maybe if Moon thinks he’s worth her time, he can’t be that much of a loser) were so impressed with him. Interest piqued, Yasmine joins their little but ever-growing group. She finds herself quickly drawn in by Demetri’s ever-growing confidence, intelligence, and surprisingly enjoyable (if somewhat annoying) sense of humor, and before long, the two are dating.

Yasmine and Aisha are...cool. Kind of. Yasmine doesn’t quite apologize, and the two aren’t friends by any stretch of imagination, but they tolerate each other, and Yasmine refrains from making awful comments and picking on Aisha in front of their friends. Aisha, for her part, does her best not to lash out or be mean to Yasmine either, keeping the peace mainly for Demetri’s and Moon’s sakes.

Meanwhile, it would take an idiot not to notice the rather starstruck looks Eli’s been shooting in Moon’s direction. Moon, for her part, is either entirely oblivious or simply doesn’t even think to consider a shy, timid, nerdy kid as a romantic option, even if she does consider him a friend.

Oddly, Demetri finds himself extremely bothered by Eli’s doe-eyed crush on Moon. He really can’t place why--he has a girlfriend already, so it really shouldn’t bug him so much that Eli is finally growing noticably interested in girls too, now that they tend to be in closer proximity. And it’s not even like Moon seems to be at all interested in reciprocating. Maybe, he figures, it’s the fact that Moon never would have even looked their way if it weren’t for the fact that he and Miguel and Aisha were the “Cool Karate Gang.” The same karate gang, of course, that Eli quit. That Eli didn’t have it in him to fully be a part of. And yet here he is, reaping the benefits still.

Interestingly, Yasmine also seems bothered by Eli’s affections for her friend. Demetri feels her stiffen beside him and sees her shooting disapproving looks whenever she catches Eli staring at Moon. Demetri isn’t sure why she seems to take issue with this too--perhaps she thinks Moon is too good for Eli, and her friend deserves better than a shy, awkward nerd.

Something about this mindset very much rubs Demetri the wrong way, but he pushes the feeling aside. Maybe he should count his blessings instead of being so inwardly critical of his girlfriend. After all, not everyone gets to date the hottest girl in school.

The day of Valley Fest arrives, and Yasmine goes to support her boyfriend. Moon and Eli tag along, eager to support their friends as well. Caught up in the thrill of the blaring music, the bright, flashing lights, the audience cheering, Demetri feels a wave of pride as he looks at his little group of friends that came for him, yelling and whooping and jumping up and down. For some reason, he finds his gaze drawn specifically to Eli, wearing a grin bigger than Demetri’s seen in months and eyes absolutely glowing.

Suddenly Demetri feels an overpowering urge to wrap Eli up in this world he’s fallen in love with, immerse him entirely in the karate that’s made Demetri feel so much more happy and free in the past several months. Grinning, he strides forward and reaches down, using the absurd upper body strength he’s built up since he’s started karate to yank Eli up onto the stage. He hands his best friend a wooden board and steps back, racing forward and snapping it in half with a jumping roundhouse kick. For a few seconds, Eli can do nothing but stare at the broken board, something shifting inside of him.

After that, Eli decides maybe it’s time to give karate another go. Something about the way Demetri positively shone onstage--how genuinely happy all of it seemed to make him--makes him thing it can’t be so bad, even if he does get taunted for his lip again.

He stops by the dojo the following week, gathering up every ounce of courage he has to ask that mean blonde man how he goes about joining the dojo again. He’s hoping against hope that maybe, after all these months of teaching students and a tournament win under his belt, the edge of his pathetic cruelty will at least have been taken off.

No such luck. Upon seeing Eli walk into the dojo, Johnny greets him with “Hey, Lip is back! Real world not treat you as nicely as you thought?” The two are, regrettably, completely alone in the dojo. Eli sucks in his breath--Demetri isn’t around, so if anyone is going to defend him, it’ll have to be him himself.

“Could you please not call me that?” His voice shakes as he says it, but nonetheless, he finishes the statement. It occurs to him that not once in his (admittedly brief) stay in Cobra Kai did he simply...request that Sensei Lawrence not call him Lip. Demetri’s approach was always to get angry about it, go off on the sensei about how wrong it was to mock someone’s appearance, but Eli himself had never been the one to make a case for Sensei Lawrence to treat him better.

It hardly helped. Sensei Lawrence just claimed that if he didn’t want him to call him Lip, he shouldn’t have a freaky lip, and then went on to claim whoever did his cleft lip surgery must have done an awful job. Eli attempted to move away from the topic, but Sensei Lawrence didn’t let up. “It’s hard to when it’s right in front of me. Hard to believe Demetri was so willing to defend you like some knight in shining armor or some shit. You’re pathetic.” Having heard enough, Eli storms out, anger overtaking him. How could he have been so stupid, to think this was going to go any better? Why did he think that just because this man had been willing to help Miguel and Demetri (who were normal) become badass meant he would extend the same treatment to the freak with the lip scar?

Eli calls Demetri in tears. “I don’t know how you can train with someone like him,” Eli spits out. “He’s a shit person, Demetri. I--I don’t know what you and Miguel are thinking. It’s like he gets some kind of...I don’t know, sadistic pleasure out of bullying people. He’s not any better than the people he claims he’s trying to help you fight.”

Demetri, to his horror, reacts only with scorn, scoffing and rolling his eyes. “God, all this drama because he was mean about your lip again? Jesus christ, grow a backbone, Eli. I hate to say it, but I think Mr. Lawrence was right--if you can’t even handle someone making some insensitive comments about your scar, how are you going to handle an elbow to the teeth? Or any training more intensive than a slap on the wrist, anyway?”

Eli can do nothing but just stare at him through the screen. Demetri, the one person who he has always been able to count on to not comment on his scar, the one person who has always comforted him or talked him through it when he cried, is brushing him completely off--being an asshole about the one thing Eli was certain he never would be. Why is Demetri, of all people, not taking his side on this?

All Eli knows for sure is that he doesn’t like this new version of Demetri one bit. What happened to the best friend who was always willing to fight for him, no matter what it took? Now, he seems more concerned with looking cool and tough and upkeeping some kind of ridiculous reputation than Eli’s own well-being.

Over the next few days, a rage he didn’t know he even had in him bubbles up inside Eli. He decides if Demetri’s going to play dirty, so is he. And maybe, if Eli plays his cards right, the old Demetri will come back.

Despite his long-standing frustration with the way adults treat him--delicately, condescendingly, like a Thing of Pity--Eli figures he can get some use out of it for once. If this is the only way they’re going to see him regardless, he might as well use it to his advantage. And so he goes crying to his mom, who he knows for a fact other adults talk about being a “valued member of the community” and probably has some influence and some strings she can pull. He bawls to her about how his best friend has turned into an unrecognizable jerk, all because he’s training with a middle-aged man with the mindset of a high school bully who has no issue verbally abusing his students. Sure enough, discussions are had with the Neighborhood Committee, phone calls are placed, and Eli overhears his mother vowing to shut down that degenerate karate place if it’s the last thing she ever does.

Meanwhile, back at the dojo, Kreese makes an announcement. The elderly, intimidating man has recently teamed up with Johnny to teach--and he gives Demetri the creeps, if he’s honest, but he seems to know his stuff when it comes to karate, so Demetri goes along with this new addition to the sensei roster. However, when Johnny goes off to visit his high school friends and leaves the kids alone with the new Sensei, Demetri can’t help but feel uneasy.

“Now, the dojo’s been getting some concerned phone calls,” Kreese says, arms crossed and expression difficult to read. He doesn’t seem to be angry--if anything, he looks faintly amused. “Parents of the local teenagers are worried. They think Cobra Kai is full of bullies. Think our methods are...abusive, even. They want to shut us down.” Worried murmurs start to echo around the room, but Kreese silences them as he goes on. “Oh, don’t worry. It won’t be a problem. I have my ways of talking people down. We know better, anyhow. They’re just...intimidated by us, because we’ve honed skills here they couldn’t even dream of having. But nonetheless...” Kreese smirks in a way that makes Demetri feels ever-so-slightly unnerved. “If you run into one of your little peers whining to your parents about getting rid of us, well...show them Cobra Kai can’t be messed with so easily.”

And suddenly Demetri’s seething, because he knows exactly who made sure those phone calls got made.

Eli, for all his timidness, is notoriously smart. Demetri knows this intimately. He’d hardly put it past Eli to be this cunning, to manipulate the pitying adults around him to get what he wants.

When the Cobra Kai kids take a trip to the mall later that day, Demetri knows exactly where Eli will be. Every Wednesday, a new issue of Dungeon Lord comes out--they used to go get it together, but since getting into karate, Demetri hasn’t been keeping up. Demetri would figure someone like Eli wouldn’t have the balls to go out in public alone, if not for the fact that he knew how invested Eli was in the current plot.

And so Demetri heads to the comic book store, a group of reluctant Cobra Kai “pledges” in tow. Maybe it’s a bit sadistic, but he likes having someone to be able to boss around--it feels nice to be at the top of the food chain for once. Lord knows it’s the first time that’s happened. And if he isn’t going to milk that tournament win for all it’s worth, then what even is the point?

When Demetri arrives, Eli turns to look at him in confusion. “What are you doing here?” he says, lip curling slightly. “I figured you were too tough for this kind of stuff now.”

Demetri just scoffs and crosses his arms. “Well, Mr. Kreese said the dojo’s been getting some calls from weepy parents concerned we’re bullying their poor kids. Saying our Senseis must be some evil, abusive monsters twisting and corrupting the neighborhood teenagers. So I think you know exactly why I’m here.”

Eli just looks at him with a doe-eyed innocence that makes his blood boil. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Demetri advances on him, eyes flashing. “Don’t bullshit me, Eli. I know you’ve been meddling.”

To his surprise, Eli looks up to meet his gaze evenly, pretense of naiveté completely gone. “And what if I have? I don’t like the influence they’re having on you.”

Well, Demetri doesn’t know what that’s supposed to mean, but he doesn’t like it. “What is it about Cobra Kai that’s got you in such a tiffy, huh? You’re jealous I found a way to fight back and actually protect us? You don’t like that I’m not a pathetic loser you can look down your nose at anymore?”

Eli just looks at him in bewilderment. “Jesus, no, that’s not it at all, dude. Just...do you even hear yourself? You’ve turned into such an asshole since you started all that karate shit. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore. You walk around thinking you’re hot shit and everyone has to bow down to you all because your dojo won some stupid tournament. Well, news flash, Demetri--nobody cares.”

The callous way Eli, of all people, says it can’t help but throw him off. Is that really what his best friend thinks about him now--that he’s just some arrogant prick strutting around flaunting his success?

And then Demetri remembers how he got here--what it was that pushed him to be such a hard-assed fighter in the first place--and he feels a wave of venom coarse through him so powerful that he nearly chokes on it. Before he knows it he’s grabbing Eli by the shoulders and shoving him up against the wall.

“You fucking ungrateful brat,” he spits out, his words poison. “I did it all for you, you know. Everything I did was so that I could finally protect you. And this is how you thank me? After I’ve been getting my ass kicked over and over again so you wouldn’t have to worry about bullies anymore?”

Eli is surprisingly unfazed. “And where was I when you were learning to be such a good protector, Demetri? Getting shit on as a tool to motivate you? Nobody bothering to check how I felt about that? A real good bodyguard you turned out to be.”

“And yet Kyler and his little posse haven’t bothered you once. Who do you think that’s thanks to?”

“Miguel too. You don’t get all the credit. And anyhow, not like it matters when your Senseis would just as soon take the same cheap shots.”

Demetri just curls his lip. “Don’t get mad at me because you were too weak to survive Cobra Kai. Because...what, a middle-aged karate teacher hurt your feelings? I’d like to see how you go about taking a real fist to the jaw.”

Demetri raises a fist as if to demonstrate. Eli flinches, anger and defiance suddenly completely gone as his eyes widen in horror.

“You’d actually hurt me?” he asks softly.

Demetri slowly lowers his fist, realizing the answer as soon as he sees the terrified look in his friend’s eyes.

“Consider this your warning, Eli,” he spits out, with as much venom as he can manage. “Don’t mess around with Cobra Kai, or things are going to get ugly.” He smirks--a little sadistically, he has to admit. “You saw the tournament. Well...you’d better believe that’s the least of what I can do.”

When a downtrodden Eli shows up at Daniel LaRusso’s front door, timidly requesting to learn karate, far be it from Daniel to turn away a new student. Eli’s sob story about how he’s being bullied and threatened by his best friend only makes the new sensei more determined to take him under his wing--Daniel is no stranger to bullying, after all.

The next time Cobra Kai goes on an outing to the mall, Demetri catches Eli in the food court, eating with Samantha LaRusso and that kid whose ass he kicked at the tournament--Robby Keene, was his name? Mr. Lawrence’s kid. This seems...odd. How would Eli have met them?

An unexpected wave of jealousy rips through him. How did shy little Eli manage to make other friends? Let alone with an ex popular girl, of all people. Nonetheless, he figures this might be a good time to make sure his ex-friend isn’t trying to start any more shit with Cobra Kai.

He catches Eli in the deli line, sliding up behind him and purring, “Oh, I hope you haven’t been poking your nose where it doesn’t belong, have you, Eli?”

Eli turns and glares at him with a venom Demetri didn’t know the other boy had in him. “Why, Demetri? Scared your precious Cobra Kai is going to lose all its coolness cred if it gets out how shitty you all are?”

Demetri seethes with anger again, and before he knows it, he’s shoving Eli out of the line and ramming him up against one of the pillars on the edge of the food court. The crowd of eaters around them “Oooooh”s, but Demetri ignores them. He raises a fist again, fully prepared to follow through this time. “I’d watch your mouth, if I were you.”

Eli just curls his lip, more defiant than Demetri’s ever seen him. “You don’t scare me, Demetri. I know who you really are.”

The Cobra Kai pledges start to loom behind them, ready to provide Demetri with backup if needed. Eli notices and scoffs. “Wow, siccing your goons on me too? Way to set up a fair fight, Demetri. You’re so badass.”

Struck by a sudden desire to prove him wrong, Demetri socks Eli in the jaw before he can think better of it. He pauses afterwards, momentarily shaken by what he’s done.

To his dismay, Eli’s horrified shock is short lived before he laughs darkly. “Well, you’re not the only one who knows karate now. I joined Miyagi-Do.”

Demetri just scoffs. Ah yes, a little karate training and Eli, of all people, is going to kick some major ass. “All right then. Let’s see what you got.” He takes a step back, allowing Eli to try and get a hit in.

When the fight breaks out in full force, it’s vicious. Eli throws the first hit, but it’s weak--he’s out of practice since abandoning Cobra Kai. Demetri has him on the ground in seconds, throwing punches and kicks with a speed and rage he had no idea he had. Eli barely has time to get up before he’s getting his ass handed to him.

What Demetri doesn’t count on is Eli’s new dojomates coming to his rescue, getting the smaller boy behind them and executing a near-perfect synchronized fighting routine. Even with his lackeys helping him, Demetri is completely annihilated--nearly unconscious on the food court floor within minutes. The last thing he sees before he passes out is Eli staring down at him, blue eyes wide with horror.

When word of the incident at the mall gets back to Moon, shit hits the fan--to put it lightly. Yasmine is with Moon when she confronts Demetri, but she doesn’t say anything--just stands glaring with her arms crossed while Moon goes off at him. “How could you treat Eli like that? He’s your friend!”

“Not anymore.” Demetri curls his lip. “He joined Miyagi-Do. He’s made it pretty clear where his loyalties lie now, and it’s not with me.”

“Who cares about Miyagi-Do?” She retorts. “He’s still your friend! Our friend! And I don’t like the way you’re bullying him.”

Demetri scoffs. “Don’t you get it? He’s just a pathetic nerd who can’t handle the fact that I’m cooler than him now. All he wants to do is drag me down to his level again, I guarantee it.”

Moon’s gaze is more poisonous than he’s ever seen it. She turns to Yasmine. “Tell him, Yas,” she says, her tone dangerously quiet.

Yasmine sighs. She says--with notable hesitation, Demetri notices--“If you don’t stop bullying Eli, we’re through.”

Thrown off, Demetri laughs harshly. “What do you care? You don’t even like Eli! I see those...disgusted looks you shoot in his direction, when you think we won’t notice.”

Yasmine bites her lip. “That doesn’t matter. Moon is my best friend. If she’s not okay with this whole...thing, then neither am I.”

“You’re not fucking serious. You’re dumping me because your bleeding-hearted friend told you I wasn’t being nice enough to a guy you can’t stand?”

Yasmine pauses, but ultimately stands her ground. “I’m sorry, but if it’s between you and Moon, it’s going to be Moon. So her word goes. So either stop with this whole stupid feud with Eli, or we’re finished.”

“I...” Demetri can only stare at her, shocked. He never could have imagined getting this ultimatum...and yet here he is.

He must have hesitated a second too long, because Moon grabs Yasmine’s arm and starts to pull her away. “I think that’s all the answer we need,” Moon hisses.

“Wait!” he called helplessly after them. Yasmine turns around once as she walks away, but only to spit “It’s over!” over her shoulder. As if for good measure.

Kreese finds Demetri circling a punching bag in the back of the dojo, spinning around it and throwing kicks and punches faster than cobra strikes. Seizing his opportunity, he advances. “What’s wrong, son?”

Demetri turns, tensing. He’s still wary of the man, but to hell with it--it’s not like he has anyone else to talk to. “Fight broke out with Miyagi-Do, and we lost. Pathetic, I know. Please don’t rub it in.”

“Cheer up.” Kreese smirks. “The fight isn’t over until you say it is.”

Demetri just sighs. “No use going in for a rematch. They’re strong. I couldn’t take them again on my own.”

Kreese’s smirk widens. “You’re a smart kid. There are other ways to fight back, you know. You don’t always have to beat them into the ground.”

As he leaves, Demetri lets that sink in.

Well, Demetri is nothing if not tech-savvy. May as well make some use of that Yelp Elite status. He spends hours setting up dozens of sock puppet accounts, programming them to post terrible review after terrible review blasting everything he can think of about Miyagi-Do. The encouragement of violence in youth (Eli had technically punched first, hadn’t he?). The weak, subpar fighting style that broke down as soon as it was challenged by serious fighters. The pretentious, culture-appropriating sensei. Daniel LaRacist indeed.

During the Coyote Creek excursion, Demetri finds himself pitted against Miguel, fighting in the world’s most intense game of what essentially boils down to Capture the Flag. Demetri, about to get the better of Miguel, finds that he can’t help but gloat about his little online attack. Can’t be long before a one-star dojo goes out of business.

When Miguel seems to take issue with it, saying the whole thing is mean-spirited and over the top, Demetri can’t help but scoff. Miyagi-Do has been plenty clear in declaring war--their little battalion at the mall proved that. Demetri wishes Miguel wasn’t still too caught up in pining over Sam LaRusso to realize that.

Miguel, meanwhile, decides this dojo war of sorts is getting out of hand. It turns out Demetri isn’t the only tech-savvy student in Cobra Kai--Miguel designed their website, after all. With a little bit of basic internet coding and some rudimentary hacking, he manages to access the sock puppet accounts Demetri made and take the bad reviews down. He even goes so far as to go over to the Miyagi-Do dojo and personally apologize for how Cobra Kai has been acting, telling Robby Keene that he found out who blasted the bad reviews and took them all down. “We’re not all assholes.”

Come Moon’s end-of-summer party, Demetri is surprised to get an invitation. He hasn’t seen her or Yasmine since they both chewed him out, and Yasmine ended things. But perhaps this is a show of good faith. Maybe Moon wants to be friends again--and maybe that means Yasmine’s come to her senses too, and might be willing to talk things out.

Moon welcomes him when he arrives, previous animosity gone for the moment. “Hey, thank you for inviting me. I’m...sorry,” he starts. “Of how we left things off. I was an ass to you and Yas.” “It’s alright,” Moon replies cheerily. “I invited you because...well, I’m hoping that before school starts, we can stop all the fighting and be friends again.”

His heart sinks as he sees Sam LaRusso lead a stream of kids through the door, Eli trailing at the end, and he realizes exactly what she means. The Miyagi-Dos are here.

He sits forlornly on a couch with Mitch and Aisha, thinking about how much worse this night just got. He brightens, however, when he sees a shock of blonde hair at the door not long after. So Yasmine came after all.

Moon grins in delight, calling over to her. Taking a breath, Demetri stands up and approaches the two girls, determined to smooth things over with them both.

He’s not surprised to see Yasmine make a beeline for Moon, not noticing him for the moment. What he isn’t expecting is for Moon to sweep Yasmine into her arms, kissing her full on the mouth.

Demetri stops in his tracks. The girls turn to him a few seconds later, seeming to notice him for the first time. They look at him expectantly, as though waiting for him to finish walking over to them. Or say something, and not just stand there gawking stupidly.

“Uh...are you two...um...like...uh...” All he can do is shuffle closer and gesture abstractly, not able to find words. Yasmine blushes and looks away, while Moon tucks a hair behind her ear, her smile strained.

“Yeah. It’s new,” she admits, laughing nervously. “We’re, um...”

“Girlfriends?” Yasmine offers, looking up and smiling at Moon with uncharacteristic shyness. Demetri can’t help but bristle--shyness she never showed him.

Well, far be it from him to be judgmental. Even if Yasmine broke his damn heart just now, Moon is still his friend. He gives them a strained smile. “That’s...that’s great! Happy for you two. No shame in uh...trying out something like that.”

Demetri excuses himself and sulks back to the now-empty couch, mind racing as he sits down. Is that why Moon was trying to encourage Yasmine to break up with him? Was it even about Eli at all? Did Moon just want Yasmine for herself? It seemed unlike Moon, but who could say?

And Yasmine...had she always wanted Moon, too? Is that why she seethed every time she saw Eli shooting lovestruck glances at her friend?

...had she even ever liked Demetri at all, or was he just a cover-up for the fact that she was...lesbian? How was someone as feminine and fashionable as Yasmine a lesbian, anyways? All the lesbians Demetri saw on tv cut their hair boyishly short and had about 5 nose rings and walked around in leather jackets and combat boots.

His thoughts are interrupted by the last sweatered boy he wants to see taking a seat at the other side of the couch, glancing nervously at him with darting eyes. What did Eli want? And why was he so nervous? He’d been unduly bold as of late.

“You seen the new Doctor Who trailer?” Eli mutters.

Something about the nonchalant way he says it--like this is the olden days, when Demetri always felt like shit about himself and had no one who tolerated him but Eli--makes Demetri’s blood boil. He scoffs. “I have better things to do than watch nerd crap like that.”

A short silence. “Capaldi regenerated,” Eli offers finally. “I know you weren’t big on 12.”

No more Capaldi? Demetri turns to look at Eli, interest suddenly piqued.

“What’s the new doctor like?” he asks before he can stop himself.

Eli grins. “She’s a badass.”

“She?” Demetri finds himself grinning back. “How progressive of them. Welcome to the 21st century, Doctor Who.”

A sudden giggling catches his attention, and Demetri looks to where Yasmine and Moon are sharing a chair across the room, tangled up in each other’s arms and trading soft kisses like they don’t have a care in the world. He tenses.

Eli seems to sense his discomfort, and sighs. “Hey, I’m sorry, man. If it helps at all, I liked Moon a lot, too.”

Demetri just scoffs. “Yeah, but I guess it doesn’t matter now. They just have to be gay, right?”

Eli gives him a strange look. Demetri shuffles uncomfortably, realizing what he’s probably thinking about. The...incident, 4 years ago. Demetri glares at him, hoping to banish the thought before it arrives. None of that meant anything--they were just dumb kids. Dumb kids doing dumb shit that didn’t matter.

“I don’t know, I mean...if they’re happy together, shouldn’t we just be happy for them?”

Eli reaches out and squeezes his shoulder, and Demetri hesitates. Their special touch. Eli still remembers, even after everything that’s happened.

For a moment he’s overcome with longing, wishing things with Eli could just go back to how they used to be. Back when he knew no matter what hell he went through at school, Eli would always be there to pick him back up again. But then it sinks in what Eli’s really trying to say.

Be happy for them. What a bunch of Miyagi-Do bullshit. Just accept his sad little lot in life, just like he used to do. Go back to nerdy little Eli at the bottom of the food chain, doomed to spend the rest of his youth admiring pretty girls from a vast distance.

He never wants that to be him again.

“Oh, fuck you, Eli,” he spits, grabbing Eli’s hand and yanking it off of his shoulder. Eli freezes, looking like he’s just been slapped.

“What, so I’m supposed to do like you, moping and pining and hoping a pretty girl will look my way if I wish hard enough and just sucking it up when she doesn’t? Well, I’ve had plenty enough of that--I’ve been on the top. And I’m going to be on the top again. But you? You’ll always be pathetic--you and your entire sorry excuse for a dojo.”

He gets up and walks away, bristling with an anger he can’t even fully place anymore.

As Eli watches Demetri go, he realizes he’s finally had enough. Demetri doesn’t want to patch things up? He just wants to keep being an arrogant shithead? Fine. But Eli’s not about to take his prodding and insults anymore.

Eli makes his way over to Moon--still his friend, despite the unreciprocated feelings--and Yasmine, strikes up a conversation with them. Yasmine, he notices, is being notably nicer to him--probably at Moon’s request. They get to talking about sexualities, and Eli accidentally lets a little something slip about Demetri.

When they were 12 years old, they had kissed. It was Eli who suggested they practiced kissing, to get ready for all the girls they would inevitably date. However, a bit of choice wording and it sounded like Demetri had planted one on Eli out of nowhere...and Eli, of course, hadn’t liked it one bit, because he was totally straight. “You can’t tell anyone, though,” he pleaded the girls, big sad eyes every bit as convincing as he had hoped. “Demetri doesn’t want it to get out that he’s...you know. Gay. He’s worried it’ll ruin his reputation.”

Moon nods sincerely, but Eli can tell from the almost imperceptible smirk on Yasmine’s face that she has other plans. If there’s one thing he’s learned about Demetri’s ex over the last few months, it’s that even trying to be a better person, she can’t resist a good bit of juicy gossip.

And from what Eli gathers...two girls dating? No problem, as long as they’re hot and popular. At least creepy guys can fetishize it. But guys liking other guys? Now that...Eli has a feeling that won’t go over well.

As soon as Eli excuses himself, Yasmine gets to work. A few whispers at the snack table when Moon isn’t looking, and news of Demetri’s supposed orientation spread like wildfire.

Demetri, meanwhile, is determined to prove Eli wrong. So what if Yas doesn’t want him anymore (or never did, the mean voice in his head keeps prodding)? He’ll find another hot girl to have on his arm. He’s a top Cobra Kai fighter, after all--it’s not like it’ll be difficult.

He saunters over to a group of girls, leaning up against the wall in what he thinks has to be a very suave way. “Hey ladies,” he says. “Name’s Demetri. I’m sure you’ve heard about me--seasoned Cobra Kai fighter, finalist in the All-Valley tournament. But no need to be intimidated--if any of you beautiful ladies ever need a hand with anything, I’ll--”

“Take it off of the nearest dick to help us out?” one of the girls cuts him off. They all break out in snickers. “No thanks.”

Demetri freezes. Why would they think...?

Then he realizes there’s only one person who could have made them think he was into that sort of thing.

He tenses. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but--”

“We’ve heard all we need to,” another girl says, eyeing him up in disgust. “Not interested in getting it on with someone who’s probably had his cock up another guy’s ass, to be blunt. Gross.” Before Demetri can say another word, the girls are gone, turning and slinking hurriedly off into the crowd.

Every time Demetri tries his luck with another girl, he gets similar rebuffs. And every time, he seethes a little more. Fucking figured--timid little Eli couldn’t take the fact that Demetri had worked up the confidence to win over a girl and he hadn’t, so he had to ruin Demetri’s chances with every other girl so he’d feel better.

Besides, Demetri remembers that day from 4 years ago. He remembers that Eli was just as into...all the stuff they did.

Unfortunately, before Demetri has a chance to go over and confront Eli about the whole business, the cops show up. He’ll just have to wait until school, he figures.

Meanwhile, word gets back to Sam that Miguel showed up at her door, apologizing and promising he took all the bad reviews down--apparently Robby didn’t relay any of this to her. When Miguel admits to Demetri about the drunken kiss, Demetri chuckles, slapping him on the back. “My man! Trying to build up a whole harem here, are we?”

Miguel sighs, looking sullen. “I cheated, dude. That’s shitty.”

And then comes the PA announcement. Tory Nichols is starting shit, and Demetri can’t pretend he’s not intrigued to see where this goes.

As soon as the fight breaks out, Demetri is overcome with adrenaline. He whips through the crowd, spinning and throwing kicks and punches like explosive flashes. All he can think of is Eli, Eli, little Eli...oh, when he finds him, there’s going to be hell to pay.

And it doesn’t take long--of course Eli is the one who tries to pull a teacher in to stop the fight. The fucking wimp.

When Eli makes a run for it, Demetri can’t help but smirk when he leads him straight to the computer lab. How very typical, for someone whose hero is Steve Jobs. He grins, something frighteningly sadistic bubbling up inside of him.

For a second it almost scares him, how badly he wants to drive his foot into Eli’s chest.

“Little Eli Moskowitz!” he taunts, before he can stop himself. “Cowering away in the computer lab, just like the little nerd he is. Can’t hide forever, outer. I know damn well what you told them about me.”

He tries door after door, continuing in a singsong voice as he goes. “Oh dear me, what would they say if they knew you enjoyed it too, Eli? Well, I guess they won’t believe me now. But I know. I know you’re no better than me.”

Ever since they were kids, Demetri has been the speedier one. They used to race across the playground at recess, pretending to be Quicksilver and the Flash, but Demetri always came out ahead. Long, gangly legs tended to do that. So when Eli turns to see Demetri in the doorway, and he makes a run for it, he doesn’t get far.

Demetri grabs Eli around the waist and throws him against the wall, whipping kicks and hits into his stomach and thighs faster than he can block. Demetri hardly notices the bruises forming, or the bleeding cuts.

It’s then that Eli does something Demetri doesn’t expect--flips the script, as it were. As Demetri reaches out to strike again, Eli surges forward and grabs him by the shoulders, flipping him around and pinning him against the wall. Maybe Miyagi-Do specializes in defense, but they still taught him how to throw a good hit or two. He throws defense to the wayside and starts raining punches down on Demetri--sloppy, uncoordinated, but something the “Strike First” Cobra Kai student is entirely unprepared to defend.

When his chest is stinging and his head throbbing, Demetri can’t take anymore. Eli was a lot more...well, powerful than he expected. At his first opportunity, he turns and books it. Maybe this isn’t a fight he can win after all.

Eli doesn’t chase. As angry as he still is at Demetri, he can’t stop thinking about the mars and bruises and cuts that appeared across Demetri’s face and skin as he punched him, mirroring his own, and he feels sick. He can’t hurt Demetri anymore, no matter what Demetri thinks of him now.

Demetri just makes it to the staircase when he sees Miguel motionless on the floor, Robby Keene looking over the railing. Sam LaRusson hovering over him. He runs to Miguel’s side, world crumbling around him.

Turns out he showed mercy, just like Mr. Lawrence always said to. And look where it got him. When John Kreese offers him a place in a new Cobra Kai, determined to make the Miyagi-Dos pay for hurting Miguel, Demetri isn’t about to say no.

In his grief, it seems like the only option.

Season 3

On the first day back at school, Mitch is quick to remind Demetri that there are other girls in the world besides Yasmine. Surely it won’t be too hard to work his charms on some of the freshmen--after all, word about that little incident with Eli when they were 12 can’t have gotten across the entire school, can it?

“Well, hello, ladies!” he purrs to a passing group, leaning against the wall in the most nonchalant way possible. “Welcome to West Valley High. I know freshman year can be intimidating, high school classes and new people and all, but if you ever need help with anything, I’m--”

“--the scrawny little gay kid who ran his pussy ass away from the world’s easiest fight?” one of the girls finishes scornfully. “Yeah, we know.”

As they walk away, he notices one shoot a flirty smile at a passing Eli, surrounded by his squad of Miyagi-Do losers. “Ooooh, you’re famous now, E!” he hears Chris say, and his blood boils all over again.

Ah. So everyone knew about Eli’s little triumph.

Mitch saunters over, and Demetri follows his lead. “Got something to say?!” he snaps.

Demetri’s eyes lock with Eli’s, and he glowers down at him. Eli’s face is tight, expression almost...sad.

Not like he’d expect anything less from that little crybaby.

“Oh, little Eli,” he chides. “I’d like to see you try and hide behind security.”

“I don’t need to,” Eli mutters, not breaking eye contact.

“Everything all right here?”

At the sound of the counselor’s voice, Eli does something unexpectedly bold. He sidles up to Demetri’s side and presses into it, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “No, Counselor Blatt, we’re all friends here!” he says, offering that shy little Eli smile that made every adult in a nearby vicinity go mad with protectiveness.

Eli’s arm is tight around his neck--like a chokehold. But, Demetri notices after a few moments, it’s shaking--the grip almost frantic. Like he’s scared of when he’ll have to let go.

Odd.

Demetri turns, and his and Eli’s eyes lock. He tries to give the shorter boy the most intense, seething glare he can under his forced smile, but Eli returns the look with equal intensity. Demetri jostles his backpack his backpack and thumps him on the chest, feeling an odd compulsion to touch his old friend right back.

Maybe he missed feeling Eli’s body underneath him. But that wasn’t a thought he could afford to spend a lot of brainpower on right now. “Yeah!” he says. Of course we’re still friends! Of course you didn’t fuck up my love life and humiliate me to the entire school because you couldn’t handle the fact that I was getting some and you weren’t!

When the counselor chides them about having somewhere to be, Eli just nods, murmuring, “Yeah, of course, Counselor Blatt. Sorry.”

As Eli pulls away, he pats Demetri’s shoulder a couple times. Small, almost imperceptible, but there.

Demetri can’t tell if it’s serious--if Eli still cares--or if it’s just a cruel mockery of their old touch. He’s not sure he wants to know.

When Demetri runs into Samantha LaRusso in the hospital and she insists she wants to help, he hardly expects a whole fucking fundraiser gleefully using Miguel as their poster child. As though the Miyagi-Dos weren’t the ones who put him in the hospital in the first place. When he catches a glimpse of the carwash while driving Mitch to practice, he decides he’s going to do something about it.

Beating up the kid is an easy fight, getting the money with Mitch and the others a sinch. Maybe at some point he would’ve felt bad for this--pummeling some short kid and then taking his charity money. But all he can think of is Miguel, his best friend, lying in a white gown and hooked up to wires. Because of this kid and his stupid “peaceful” dojo.

Peaceful, Demetri’s ass.

When Demetri walks into the cafeteria the following Monday, he’s not sure what he expects to see at Yasmine and Moon’s table, the place where he would be sitting, under different circumstances--but it definitely is not Eli Moskowitz with his hair dyed bright blue and spiked up. Miyagi-Do blue. Apparently all that coolness cred he felt he got from “scaring” Demetri off in the school brawl has gotten to his head, and he’s playing out his new “badassery” up to 11. He’s showing something to Yasmine and Moon, and they’re smiling and giggling. Yasmine, of all people, is smiling at nerdy little Eli’s antics.

Demetri squints, and sees that Eli’s showing the two girls a comic book--he recognizes the copy. It’s Eli’s limited edition Captain Marvel comic book, signed by Kelly Sue DeConnick herself. Demetri remembers standing in line with him at a con to get it a few years back--he’s pretty protective of the thing.

And now he’s using it to impress girls? Because apparently Yasmine and Moon are into that kind of thing? Oh, but of course Yasmine couldn’t be into nerd shit when DEMETRI was dating her, could she?

And those gooey eyes Moon is giving Eli, her little giggles--Demetri doesn’t like them one bit. What, now Eli’s worth her affections--now that his “nerdiness” is cool? Aren’t she and Yasmine a stupid item, anyways?

Deciding he’s going to put a stop to this, Demetri saunters over, lunch tray clutched so hard his knuckles are turning white. Before the group can react to his presence, Demetri picks up his chocolate milk carton and dumps it all over Eli’s stupid blue hair, making sure to get plenty on the rare comic book in front of him.

“Oh, I hope that wasn’t important, was it Eli?” he taunts, voice thick with mock sympathy. “That sure would be a shame.”

Eli turns to look at him, eyes wide with heartbroken shock. For a moment, the anger doesn’t set in.

“I had to wait in line 5 hours to get that,” he says quietly. “You know that.”

“Sure do.” Demetri smirks. “And it took all of 5 seconds to completely ruin. How tragic.”

Eli tenses, eyes darting around for a couple seconds. Demetri starts to walk away, his point made, when he feels an iron grip on his wrist. He turns to see Eli smirking at him, clutching his arm with more force than he ever thought possible from the once-timid boy.

“Careful there, Demetri,” Eli sneers. “Coming all the way across the cafeteria to bother me when you’ve got your cool Cobra Kai friends to hang out with? People might think you’re a little...obsessed with me.” Yasmine and Moon snicker, and Demetri bristles as he realizes the implication.

“Although I shouldn’t be surprised since you love obsessing over other boys, don’t you?” Eli goes on, like his point isn’t clear enough. “Y’know, I feel bad for Yasmine. I mean, any idiot could tell she used you as a beard, but I had no idea it was a mutual thing.”

Demetri tenses, willing himself not to lose his cool. “Really letting that little victory get to your head, aren’t you, Eli? Honestly, I was going easy on you. Now I know not to next time.”

It’s at that moment that Sam LaRusso decides to show up, sliding up next to Eli and glowering up at Demetri. “There won’t be a next time if I have anything to say about it,” she retorts.

Demetri can’t help but scoff. Of course Sam LaRusso would be all too eager to defend her little pet nerd now, even though she was all too happy to laugh at him with her mean girl friends a year ago. “I’m not scared of you,” he says. “Like you’d start any fight daddy couldn’t bail you out of. Or that doesn’t end with your ex boyfriend getting thrown over a railing because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”

It’s a low blow, but Demetri doesn’t care. It’s hard not to look at this girl and see part of the reason Miguel might never be able to walk again.

Sam LaRusso shoves him just as the godawful counselor is sauntering over, but to hell with it--maybe Demetri could spin this to his advantage.

“She hit me, Counselor Blatt!” he cries out, pointing at Sam. “Attacked and physically assaulted me, completely unprovoked!”

“That’s not true,” Eli mumbles, eyes darting. Flawlessly slipping back into the poor little Eli role in a way that never fails to make Demetri seethe. “It wasn’t unprovoked. He started all this by destroying my limited-edition comic book for no reason.”

Demetri puts on his most convincing remorseful face and sighs. “Look, that was an accident. I just tripped while I was walking and my milk spilled. Anyhow, if your book’s that valuable, you probably shouldn’t bring it into a school cafeteria where people are more than likely going to spill food on it.”

He’d like to see the dumb counselor argue with that.

“Look, I don’t want excuses. I just want you all to respect each other.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Demetri turns to give Eli a forced smile. “Nothing but 100% respect in this environment going forward, I assure you. Sorry if we caused any problems.”

Please, just anything to make her leave.

With one last warning to Sam LaRusso, the counselor is gone. Demetri turns to the two Miyagi-Dos and smirks.

“To hell with respect,” he sneers. “Your lot hardly deserve it.”

It doesn’t surprise Demetri when Eli and his little gang of Miyagi-Do losers decide to start shit in gym class. What he isn’t expecting is for Eli and his stupid blue hair to start running next to him--right after he’s tried and failed to catch Yasmine’s attention after scoring a goal.

He’s been thinking about her all morning--was Eli right about her? Did she only use him as a cover-up?

...would no one ever want to date him for him?

Well, maybe if he won Yasmine back, he could disprove that. If Moon was going to be hanging off of Eli’s arm before too long, chances were her and Yasmine’s relationship’s days were numbered.

Whatever Eli is about to say, Demetri can already tell it’s not going to help.

And it doesn’t. “Wow, Demetri. Few guys are so bad in a relationship that they manage to turn their girlfriend gay. I hope you feel accomplished.”

Demetri balls his fists. “Say that again. I dare you.”

“You really did have a good thing going with her,” Eli sighed, voice laced with condescending pity. “It’s a shame she decided she could do better than some belligerent Cobra Kai douchebag.”

And then suddenly Eli lunges for him and tackles him, knocking him to the ground just as easily as Demetri once did to Eli at the mall.

Not that it ended up mattering all that much--Demetri was able to talk the Cobra Kai’s way out of trouble in the principal’s office, just as he so often could. Nonetheless, it seemed Eli was hardly turning out to be as much of a pushover as he thought.

When Mitch and the guys invited Demetri to go to Golf N Stuff--fuck around for a bit, cause some mayhem--he wasn’t about to say no. The thrill took over, running around, snatching tickets and prizes away, throwing them in the trash--he almost felt as powerful as Kyler must have, all those months ago when he tossed the lesser kids’ backpacks in the garbage. Is this how it felt, to be on top? To have everyone else too scared to mess with you?

Because Demetri loved it.

What he wasn’t counting on was Sam LaRusso and her little posse arriving to confront them in the laser tag arena--including Eli, face hardened and ready to fight.

Things seemed to be going pretty poorly--that was, until Tory Nichols and the backup arrived. That reduced Sam LaRusso to a sniveling mess, and finally it looked like this would be an easy finish.

Demetri found himself only stalling for a second when the way cleared for him to go at Eli. Something about the sudden terror on the other boy’s face made him hesitate, but not for long. Eli threw a weak punch, and Demetri quickly flipped him onto the ground, pulling his arm up behind him.

“No, please, stop, Deme, stop! It’s me!”

Deme...

Eli’s old nickname for him.

Demetri pauses, and suddenly he feels sick. Deme...Eli’s nickname. Eli.

Wasn’t all of this for Eli? To protect Eli?

And now here he was, about to hurt him. The one thing he swore he was going to stop everyone else from doing.

And then comes the goading cries from Tory, Mitch, and the others. Do it! Finish him! He deserves it!

He deserves it.

And then Demetri remembers what happened to Miguel when he didn’t take his chance to finish the fight with Robby Keene. Suddenly Demetri’s running out of the end of a hallway again, seeing Miguel’s motionless body lying on the stairs, and the rage and horror and mind-numbing devastation hit him all over again.

“Demetri, finish him!”

In a split second, Demetri makes his decision. Eli’s arm snaps in half.

All it takes is one terrible, pained scream from Eli for Demetri’s entire world to come crashing down on him. What the fuck did he just do?

He can’t even hear the other Cobras, gleefully congratulating him and sneering at the “pussy” on the floor. All he can hear are Eli’s pained sobs.

He’d seen Eli cry before, but never like this. Never thanks to him.

When everyone congratulates him next practice, Demetri barely hears. He’s just numb. All he can see is Eli, curled up and crying on the dirty cement floor. When Tory tells him she didn’t think he was going to do it, all he can manage out is that Miyagi-Do had it coming for hurting Miguel.

And as if his week can’t get any worse, here come Kyler and his goons sauntering into the dojo like they own the damn place. Demetri does his best to convince Mr. Kreese this is by no means a wise idea, but the sensei will not hear of it.

When Kyler and Brucks realize who he is, it only makes Demetri more livid. “Oh shit, it’s the yogurt backpack kid! Lip’s little friend! I thought he moved away!” When a fighting ring is formed, giving the new recruits a chance to “earn their spot,” Demetri is all too ready for combat.

He’s horrified at how quickly Brucks takes down Mitch, how quickly his friend is ushered out the door. It was bad enough to see Bert go, but this...this is different.

He can’t remember the last time he’s felt more alone.

When Kyler steps forward, looking for an opponent, Demetri volunteers before anyone else can. Mr. Kreese shoots him a surprised look, but he doesn’t care. This fucko has been making his life hell for years--he can already tell this is going to be therapeutic.

Demetri doesn’t hold back. The fight has barely started before Kyler’s had enough. A few fast hits and his lip’s already bloody, and he’s backing away. “No...please stop...”

And suddenly Demetri’s back in the library, on that afternoon that seems like an eternity ago, watching Kyler grip Eli by the throat. Hearing him sneer “who would ever want to kiss THAT shit?” like Eli was the most disgusting thing he’d ever seen. Feeling absolutely powerless, hand clutching the back of a chair as he burned with rage that had nowhere to go.

Well, he wasn’t powerless now.

And before he knows it Demetri has Kyler pinned to the ground, landing punch after punch to his face. Because, he realizes, at the end of the day, who gives a fuck if Eli’s on the other side?

That’s still his Eli, even after everything. The same Eli he stood by for over 10 years, the same Eli who he wished so long that he could protect from everything, the same Eli who felt like he had to constantly hide a tiny red line on his face because his peers collectively decided--for no good reason at all--that it was ugly.

And maybe he couldn’t make those people hurt the way he wanted to then, but right now...well, he could hurt at least one. And that was enough.

He doesn’t stop until Kyler is practically pulverized and his hands are drenched in blood. After throwing his last punch, he smirks, leaning down to whisper into Kyler’s ear.

“Now who’d want to kiss THAT shit? That’s right, asshole--I remember.”

Demetri kicks Kyler’s limp form as he walks away. He shoots Brucks a glare as he falls back in line--just for good measure.

When Miguel comes back to school, Demetri’s one of the first to greet him at the door. “Cobra Kai’s still going strong! It’s going to be great to have you back!” He’s a little confused as to why Miguel seems so hesitant, but he doesn’t worry too much about it--they can sort through all that later.

Miguel’s certainly taken aback by the clunky cast he sees on Eli’s arm when he runs into him in the hall--but perhaps even moreso by the fact that he has both shamelessly dyed his hair blue and spiked it up in a mohawk and is currently walking the school hallways with Moon on his (unbroken) arm. As it turns out, once word got back to Moon that Yasmine was the one who had shamelessly whispered around the school about Demetri being gay, she had broken things off with her. And, with his new “coolness” upgrade, she’d taken quite a liking to Eli.

Not like she had any way of knowing he’d been planning on Yasmine’s cruel gossip, after all.

But the cast, Miguel quickly learns, has a much darker backstory than anything he could have expected.

He wastes no time confronting Demetri about it in the lunchroom. “I heard what happened with Eli. How could you do that?”

Demetri’s stomach clutches. He scowls, determined not to show his discomfort.

“Wow!” He scoffs. “We go to all the trouble of getting payback on those assholes for getting you thrown over that railing, and this is the thanks we get?”

Miguel shakes his head, horrified. “Dude, who cares what dojo Eli’s in? He’s our friend! And in any case, it’s not his fault what happened to me. What the hell were you thinking?”

I don’t know. I don’t know. Demetri’s face hardens. He can only imagine how angry Mr. Kreese would be with him if he caught him showing any kind of weakness. Any kind of second-guessing.

But he can’t help it. Glimpsing Eli in that cast for the first time...

“Look, the Miyagi-Dos were the ones who picked a fight with us,” Demetri retorts. “We just had to do what we had to so they’d back off and leave us alone. We had to finish the fight.”

Miguel pauses, looking pained. “This isn’t...this isn’t you, Demetri. You’re letting Kreese get in your head. He’s trying to manipulate you, get you to...obsess over revenge so you’ll hurt people. But I know you, and I know you don’t want to. Eli, or anyone else.”

Demetri clenches his fists. “What would you know about how I feel about Eli?”

“Look, I can’t claim I know what’s going on between you two,” Miguel amends. “But you have to believe me--Kreese is dangerous. He’s using you. He doesn’t care about you, Demetri. Just...come to Sensei Lawrence’s new dojo. Please. Things can be like they used to. You don’t have to be in this...this war.”

This gives Demetri pause. “He...made a new dojo?”

Okay, so he’s still not Mr. Lawrence’s biggest fan--the man is an asshole at the best of times. But to be able to train with Miguel again...to be able to be badass without being expected to be some soldier...

He can’t finish speaking before Brucks’s voice rings out through the cafeteria. “Look everyone, Lip’s got a dick in his hand!”

Demetri looks up to see Eli being held by the cast, eyes darting around as the entire cafeteria bursts into laughter. Involuntarily, Demetri bristles.

And there it is again, that feeling of being the helpless kid in the library as Eli’s taunted. And even after all this time...he still hates it.

Miguel turns to him, shaking his head. “So these are your friends now? I thought you were better than that.”

And just like that, Miguel’s gone. Gone from the Cobra Kai table, gone from Demetri’s life.

It makes him wonder if he’s making a huge mistake. But he knows he can’t back out now--not when he’s this far in. Who would even want to take him back? Probably not Miguel and Mr. Lawrence--despite what Miguel said, Demetri knows there’s no way he’s going to forgive him so easily for hurting their other friend. And certainly not Eli.

What makes it even worse is seeing Eli later that day, curled up against some lockers with Moon. Moon is tracing over his cast in colored sharpie, slowly transforming the dick pic into a beautiful landscape and night sky. Eli is bragging about how the arm-breaking didn’t hurt that bad.

Demetri remembers when that soft little smile was reserved only for him, and a pit starts to form in his stomach.

Well, no use bitching. You did this to yourself.

It seems like the world is out to just make Demetri’s existence in Cobra Kai as shitty as possible these days. Mitch and Bert are gone, Miguel isn’t coming back, Brucks is being a royal douchebag like always, and perhaps worst of all, Robby Keene shows up at the dojo. Demetri tries his damndest to appeal to Mr. Kreese about how outrageous this is--this is the kid who paralyzed Miguel in the fucking first place, what’s the point of dojo-wide revenge if they just take in the main culprit like an old buddy? But of course Mr. Kreese spouts some nonsense about how they need all the help they can get for the All-Valley, and sometimes you have to be allies with people you aren’t the biggest fans of, blah blah blah. To make matters worse, Tory--not a friend exactly, but probably the closest thing Demetri’s got to one left--is getting far too chummy with Robby for Demetri’s taste.

Maybe Demetri’s insane, but it seems like more and more ridiculous shit is being handwaved in the name of...what? Winning a karate tournament? Getting revenge for a kid who’s already recovered, and doesn’t even seem to want it?

When word gets back to Cobra Kai that Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang are teaming up, Kreese sends the students on a special mission: Show the other dojos that even with their combined forces, they’re no match for Cobra Kai. It seems like a waste of time to Demetri--why antagonize other dojos just minding their business? It’s not like there was anything worth fighting for in this dumb war anymore, considering Miguel was on his feet again (literally AND figuratively). Nonetheless, Demetri finds he’s itching for a good fight--it’s been way too long since he’s charged into a full-fledged battle.

Maybe this will help him get it out of his system, if nothing else.

When the fight breaks out at the LaRussos, it doesn’t take long for Demetri to be overtaken by the thrill of it. Just like he was at the school fight. Just like he was at the tournament. He’s zipping through the house, landing kicks and punches left and right. And it feels good. With everything having been so awful lately, he can’t remember the last time he’s felt more alive.

And then he lands a fierce kick, and Brucks chest-bumps him. “Hell yeah! kick some ass! Dumb losers never had a chance.”

Brucks. The same kid who laughed when he saw Eli starting to cry about the comments he made on his lip. The same kid claiming Kyler tossing his backpack into a yogurt-filled trash can was “brute.” And now here he was trying to be buddy-buddy with him.

Everything comes crashing down on Demetri at once.

Miguel’s speech, saying Kreese is manipulating him. Saying Kreese doesn’t care about him. Kreese cherry-picking what does and doesn’t count as vengeance--hurting Eli, someone who had nothing to do with Miguel’s fall, does, but teaming up with the kid responsible for said fall apparently does not. Demetri’s friends being booted from Cobra Kai one by one, just for not being strong enough.

The sound of Eli’s screams and sobs in a dark laser tag room.

Miguel was right, wasn’t he? Kreese never cared about getting payback for him. He only cared about starting a war for his own sadistic pleasures.

Demetri hears grunting and whimpering, and he looks up to see two of the other Cobras kneeing Eli in the chest over and over. Pinning him into an arm bar.

“Yo, ‘Mete!” one calls out. “Free shot!”

Eli looks up, gaze full of fear and pain. Bright blue irises glinting with welling tears.

Once upon a time, Demetri made a promise to himself that he would stick with karate, aggravating as it may be, so he would never have to see that look on Eli’s face again. It’s time, he figures, that he finally made good on that.

His face contorts into a snarl, and he runs to Eli. Eli closes his eyes and scrunches his face, bracing for a pain that never comes.

Demetri kicks one Cobra to the wayside and smashes the other into a glass table with perhaps more force and adrenaline than he’s used all night.

When he turns to Eli, the other boy backs away, eyes still wide with terror. Demetri feels sick to his stomach, and the tears come before he can stop them.

“God, Eli, I’m so sorry,” he splutters. “I’m so fucking sorry, for everything. I don’t know what I was thinking, and it was all so fucked up, and--”

“Demetri.”

“--I’ll never hurt you like that again, but if you don’t want anything to do with me now, I totally understand, and--”

“Demetri.”

“--I was so awful to you, and I didn’t listen to you, and I should’ve been there for you, and I’m such a piece of shit friend and--”

“DEMETRI!”

Finally Eli raises his voice enough that Demetri pauses. “...yeah, Eli?”

“Please stop talking. I forgive you. Now are you going to shut up and help me finish this?” He raises a hand, as if to initiate their old handshake. An olive branch.

Demetri grins so wide he thinks his face is going to break, and he grips Eli’s hand like a lifeline. Something to finally pull him out of the darkness. “Yeah.”

They’re a lethal fighting team. Between Demetri landing speedy hits and Eli protecting him and shielding them both with his bulked-up form (where did he get all that muscle? Demetri wonders), they dispatch half the Cobras in minutes. Whatever rush Demetri was feeling fighting when he first got here is nothing compared to fighting with Eli.

When they stop the fight between Tory and Sam, Tory wastes no time voicing her disdain for the ex-Cobras. “You’d better watch your back,” she spits at Demetri, and he feels a chill run through him. Turns out this girl is terrifying when she’s not fighting on your side.

Eli intercepts her as she leaves, staring her down defiantly in a very un-Eli-like manner. “You’d better watch yours,” he growls. “Touch him, and I’ll end you.”

Demetri glances over in surprise. When did Eli get so bold?

Well...he thinks he could grow to like it.

Season 4 (because fuck it)

Demetri is hardly expecting Mr. LaRusso and Mr. Lawrence to forgive him, never mind let him into their new dojo. But life has a lot of pleasant surprises in store for him, it seems, after the shitshow it recently put him through. It’s also possible Eli (and maybe Miguel too) but in a good word for him.

Demetri can’t stop apologizing to Eli. Seemingly every day, he finds a new thing to apologize for. Eli gets aggravated with it before long, having to reassure Demetri at least 50 separate times that he forgives him for everything. Nonetheless, Demetri refuses to stop--because he’ll never stop being sorry.

Or trying to find new ways to make it up to Eli. Going easy on him during sparring. Buying him lunch after practice. Helping him perfect some of the most badass Cobra moves.

Things end between Eli and Moon. Eli can’t fully elaborate on why--he just tells Demetri something didn’t feel quite right. The spark died out, like Demetri’s adrenaline rush slowly seeping away toward the end of a fight. That, and, Demetri gathers, something seems to have been distracting Eli from his girlfriend as of late.

Most likely the approaching, high stakes All-Valley. Karate is Serious Business, as they’ve both embraced now.

Rumor has it Yasmine and Moon are trying again, Yasmine realizing for seemingly the first time how awful she’s really been and making an effort to be better. Moon makes her want to be better--more than Demetri ever did, he realizes. And maybe that’s okay--he and Yasmine probably just weren’t right for each other.

Then one day, after yet another one of Demetri’s long-winded apologies, Eli offers something other than an exasperated. “It’s okay. Seriously.” There’s a pause before Eli quietly says “I’m sorry too.”

“For what?” Demetri blurts out, baffled. Everything Eli’s done has paled in comparison to his own atrocities.

“For outing you,” Eli says simply. “That was fucked. And it wasn’t my place, even if I was mad at you.”

“It’s all right.” Demetri shrugs. “You were right, anyways.”

Eli gives him a strange look. “I was?”

“Yeah, I mean...” Demetri laughs dryly. “I don’t...like girls. I pretended I did, because I felt like I was supposed to. That’s what people expect you to do when you’re a top athlete and all that. But dating Yasmine, chasing other girls, it always felt...empty. Like I was just acting out a role in a play or something. And at the end of the day, I think...” He pauses. “I think I was always looking at you.”

Because the last few months have made him realize something. Training with Eli, teaching Eli how to protect himself, watching Eli step up and defend him from the mistrusting stares and the scornful whispers...

Just how much of the person he’s become is thanks to wanting to protect Eli. The fact that that was always how all this started.

“I love you,” he blurts out, before he can stop himself. “I know I did a shitty job of showing it, and I know you were with Moon and you’re not like that, but I need you to know, and I understand if you don’t feel--”

Eli cuts him off with a fierce kiss, pinning him up against the dojo wall with unexpected aggressiveness.

When Eli pulls away, he’s smiling softly. The same smile he gave Moon in the hall as she drew on his cast--the smile that’s once again all Demetri’s.

“I love you too,” he murmurs. “Why do you think I broke up with Moon? Every time I was with her...I couldn’t stop wishing it was you. She’ll never know me like you do.”

And Kreese had better look out because Miyagi Fang’s next big power couple is a force to be reckoned with--the snarky, frighteningly fast-attacking ex-Cobra, and the buff, blue-mohawked Miyagi-Do with more inner peace than anyone would expect.

SOME RANDOM SIDENOTES ABOUT THIS BECAUSE I DIDN’T FEEL LIKE PUTTING THIS ALL IN THE TAGS

~I’m sorry if anyone is OOC in this--I know Johnny is kind of a fuck, but he genuinely WAS pretty crappy to Eli at first and who knows if he would’ve treated him any better if he didn’t “flip the script”??? ~Dark/Evil Demetri is so fun but also so awful to write--I hope you like him being an absolute fuck because the Corruption Arc is REAL ~Yes, I DO in fact fully believe Demetri would go on a crazed revenge quest just like Eli/Hawk did out of his grief for Miguel--the boy absolutely loves Miguel and arguably would want vengeance as much as Eli if their roles were swapped!!! Because Demetri cares about Miguel SO FUCKING MUCH even if it’s not as obvious as it is with Eli but that’s a rant for another post ~I included YasMoon because fuck it, I thought it’d be interesting. That and, unlike the Cobra Kai writers, I am not at all afraid of what conservative audiences will say, so I am not afraid to make things as gay as possible. ~There’s a good chance I swapped Kyler and Brucks’ places near the end solely so I could have Demetri beat the fuck out of Kyler because I just really need that ~Yes, even without formally becoming “Hawk,” Eli could learn how to be a conniving manipulative little shit if he wanted to be. Look at some of the shit he pulls with the counselor in canon Season 3!!! Boy sure as hell knows how to play the victim. ~Honestly not sure if being outed as gay is better or worse than being outed as a bed-wetter, but I had to think of something that would pack the same kind of emotional punch. In Eli’s feeble defense, the West Valley High kids don’t seem like the types to be like...especially violent against queer kids (otherwise NO WAY would Moon and Piper have been able to be that open about their relationship), they’d just be assholes about it. So Eli wasn’t putting Demetri in legit danger here so much as just opening him up to a lot of ridicule. Which is still fucked, but hey, I DID warn you this would be kind of fucked up XD ~Maybe short, concise apologies work for Eli, bUT NOT FOR DEMETRI THE RAMBLER ~Dark Demetri chasing Eli through the school like a goddamn serial killer = 10/10 gave myself a big Spook writing ~Yes, Eli does still have (and always had) his “Hawk” traits, even without the formal “transformation.” I just think his “Hawk” side would be a little more subtle and subdued if he were in Miyagi-Do, but it’s still there for sure.

#tw: outing #tw: internalized homophobia #tw: very dark stuff in general #tw: toxic relationships #tw: violence #tw: kinda sadistic characters tbh #tw: just generally some dark shit thematically in here yo #hawk x demetri #demetri x eli #binary boyfriends #hawkmeat #eli x demetri #demetri x hawk #elimetri #yasmoon #yasmine x moon #moon x yasmine #cobra kai #demetri cobra kai #eli moskowitz #miguel diaz #aisha robinson #moon cobra kai #yasmine cobra kai #sam larusso #kyler cobra kai #brucks cobra kai #role swap au #alternate universe #my askbox

[outerbankswriting]

Could it be? Chapter 11 (JJ x Reader)

JJ x Reader

CH.1 - CH.2 - CH.3 - CH.4 - CH.5 - CH.6 - CH.7 - CH.8 - CH.9 - CH.10

Description: She has a crush on JJ, but he has always seen her as another one of the “dudes”, or  at least that’s what she thinks so she just doesn’t even try anymore, until things start to shift between the two of them. (A/N: I’M NOT GOOD AT DESCRIPTIONS BUT THESE IS JUST WHAT I WOULD LOVE TO HAPPEN IN OUTER BANKS WITH JJ)

A/N: THIS CHAPTER GOT DELETED BC TUMBLR WANTED TO MAKE ME CRY FOR A BIT SO I HAD TO REPOST..

Warnings: mentions of sexual trauma

CHAPTER 11

You shot a glance at Sarah once she finished spilling all your business. You watched as she gave you an innocent smile after realising you didn’t want everyone to know about Rafe yet.

“Look, I can explain alright?” You sighed as you reached for a beer. It was going to be a long day.

“Please do.” Kie muttered, raising her eyebrow at you.

You looked at JJ who was staring straight into your eyes, you couldn’t tell if he was hurt or angry but either of those options made your stomach twist.

“He promised that if I faked it for a night, he would leave all of us alone which means th-”

“And you believed him?” Pope was quick to cut you off.

“Why would you even trust Rafe Cameron in the first place?” John B added.

“If you would all stop interrupting me, then maybe I would be able to clear your doubts.” You spat coldly at your friends.

“Go on then.” Kie nodded.

“It’s just for the night, so he can be on the clear with his father and have no problems whatsoever,” you bit your lip, “after that I’m completely done with him.”

The silence was broken by JJ’s sarcastic laugh, making you immediately stare at his movements.

“Well I think it’s bullshit,” he gulped down his beer before standing up, “and if you’re trusting Rafe Cameron, then you can’t be trusted either.”

His words hit you like a thousand knives on the chest.

He definitely felt betrayed by you but his anger was stronger than the pain he was feeling. He tossed the empty beer on the sand, ignoring Kie’s complaining and gave you a final glare before walking away from the group.

“JJ,” you sighed and rushed to walk towards him, ignoring whatever your friends were complaining about as well, “JJ wait!”

You tried to walk faster towards him but the sand wasn’t letting you catch up to his pace.

“JJ stop!” You yelled a little louder but he kept walking.

You decided to run towards him, ignoring how ridiculous you looked trying to run in the sand for trying to chase a guy.

“JJ let me talk to you.” You grabbed his arm making him turn to face you.

His eyes drifted to the sea, not bothering to look at yours.

He was stubborn and you knew him too well to know how whenever he gets angry, his mind becomes clouded with his own thoughts, not bothering to listen or try to understand anything.

“Do you honestly think I want to talk to you right now?” He spat out.

But he was not the only stubborn one here, you were not going to let him leave without first making him listen to you.

“I want you to listen.”

“I don’t want to listen.” His jaw clenched and he pulled his arm away from you.

You were starting to get annoyed but you couldn’t blame him for feeling this way.

“JJ stop walking away from me!”

“You listen to me!” He raised his voice at you as he walked closer to you, your eyes starting to water at his actions, “I cannot trust you if you keep lying to my face!”

“I never lied to you JJ!”

“You said you were not going back to him!”

“I’m not!”

“Then why the fuck are you going as his girlfriend to the stupid party?!”

His eyes were filled with anger and your face probably looked like the one of a scared puppy since JJ’s features softened at the realisation of how loud he was raising his voice at you and how he was projecting his anger.

“I just can’t believe how you can still trust him after everything he’s done.” He lowered his voice but the anger still hadn’t left him.

“Nothing’s going to happen between us JJ,” you slowly walked closer to him, afraid he was going to walk away at any second, “I’m not going to let it happen.”

JJ licked his lips while shaking his head in frustration, he tried to avoid eye contact with you but failed once you softly caressed his cheek, making him calm down a bit.

“If that asshole lays a finger on you, I promise I’m going to kill him.” He muttered as his breathing got slower.

“Sarah is going to be there,” you said and grabbed his hand, “and so will my parents JJ. It’s just one night and then Rafe will be out of our lives.”

His eyes softened as you kept caressing his cheek and holding his hand. You watched as he slightly nodded, knowing he was still not trusting Rafe.

“Let’s go home okay?” You whispered before giving him a light kiss.

The two of you went to your house, not really bothering on letting your friends know you weren’t going back to the beach. You were probably going to send a text later to Kie explaining her everything. Right now all you cared about was calming JJ down and letting him know things were going to be alright.

Once you were in the comfort of your bedroom you decided to grab some beers from the fridge to loosen up a bit and forget the tension that had built a few minutes ago.

You knew JJ was still upset and angry since he wasn’t really talking.

“Last to finish their beer has to cook dinner.” You playfully winked at him before taking a big gulp of your beer.

You noticed JJ take a sip of his beer, not really following your little game to cheer things up.

“JJ come on,” you sat down on the bed next to him, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you last night.”

“It’s not only that Y/N,” he said softly this time, “it’s the fact you always tell me your relationship with him was bad and I know there’s something about him you’ve been hiding from me.”

You didn’t know what to say so you just stared at your bed covers.

“Do you see?” JJ went on, “How can I trust you completely if you can’t even trust me?”

“I do trust you JJ,” you sighed, “I just,”

You took a deep breath, thinking about the right way to tell him.

“I have never talked about this to anyone because it scares me.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he moved closer to you.

“What do you mean Y/N?” He softly grabbed your hand.

“I just don’t know how to say it.” Your voice trembled and you felt your eyes start to tear up, JJ immediately cupping your face.

“Hey Y/N,” he whispered, “you can trust me, I’ll take care of you.”

You stared at his eyes while letting a few tears fall down your face. The two of you had already seen each other at your most vulnerable times and that’s what had made you feel so close to him.

You knew you had to tell JJ, you knew it was time to let it out, even if it scared you and even if you knew JJ would probably lose his shit.

You took a deep breath.

“I didn’t really want to do it with him,” your voice was low and soft and you noticed JJ’s jaw clench as he realised what you were talking about, “but I didn’t know how to tell him.”

You fought back the tears as you remembered the first time you had sex with Rafe and how you knew you weren’t ready but he somehow convinced you.

“It’s not like I told him I didn’t want to,” your voice trembled again, “I just let him do it because he was my boyfriend at the time even though I didn’t want to, and after the first time I didn’t want to do it again, but when I told him he got mad at me and he started hanging out with other girls so I just,”

You paused to stare at JJ, his eyes were once again filled with anger but there were also tears in them. His hand was still holding yours tightly, giving you the trust and confidence to keep going.

“I just did it again with him until I learnt to kind of enjoy it I guess? But there were more times I didn’t want to do it than times I did want to, and it just haunts me.”

You let the tears fall down as you felt a weight being lifted from your shoulders.

“JJ?” You asked once you noticed he remained silent, his eyes filled with tears and not leaving yours.

“That piece of shit.” He muttered as he trembled with rage.

“JJ,”

“I’m going to kill him.” He spat out coldly.

“JJ I told you this because I trust you, please,” you cupped his face, “stay out of this.”

“Are you kidding me Y/N?” He raised his eyebrows at you, “My fist on his face is the least I could to him to make him pay for what he did.”

“He never forced me to do it.”

“But he manipulated you Y/N.”

“I know that now,” you sighed, “but I didn’t know that back then.”

He nodded and bit his lip but you grabbed his face and made him stare straight into your eyes.

“I’m a different person now JJ, I’ve learnt from it.”

Just when his tears were about to fall down his face, he wrapped his arms around you, making you let out all the tears you were fighting back and feeling safe in his embrace.

“I will never hurt you Y/N,” he sobbed against your neck, “I’ll always take care of you.”

You weren’t even able to let out the words you wanted to tell him, you wanted to tell him how much you loved him but the words just wouldn’t come out because of your loud sobbing.

“I’ll be there.” He whispered once he let go of the embrace and cupped your face.

“What are you talking about?” You asked while wiping away the last tears falling from his eyes.

“I’m going to the party and I’ll be watching over you and I don’t care if your parents hate me for that.”

You smiled with tears in your eyes before nodding and softly placing your lips against his.

———————-

CH.12

A/N: I touched a pretty sensitive topic this chapter and I really want to talk about this. unwanted consensual sex (also known as gray zone sex) is a thing that happens to so many people and it’s not talked about enough. one of my closest friends experienced this and it has affected her sexual relationships deeply. if you’ve ever been through something like this please know that you’re not alone and you can always talk to me. you should never feel pressured to do sexual intercourse or any other sexual activities by anyone, not even your partner.

sorry for all the mess that’s been going on with my tumblr, I honestly don’t know what happened but tumblr support apparently already fixed it...

thank u so much if you’re still reading this story, means a lot!

——————–

#rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #outer banks #outer banks netflix #outer banks fanfiction #jj x reader #jj #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #obx #obx netflix #obx fanfiction #obx imagine

[starcherryberry]

ℂ𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕣𝕤 → 𝕐𝔾 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕩 𝕁𝕂 | 𝕄.

→ ❝ With your final semester left of university you expected to go through it easily however an issue with your credits leads you to take Professor Min’s Painting 101 course.❞

☾ Pairing: Professor!Yoongi Painter!Yoongi x Student!Reader x Student!Jungkook (this was suppose to be a yoongi x reader but somehow my mind wandered and jungkook came in lmao it be like that sometimes)

☾ Type: Poly!Relationship (literally you won’t see it until like the ending but oops)

☾ Genre: Smut  ☆  Angst  ☆  Fluff

☾ Word Count: 7.3k

↠ Warnings: there is an age gap between all characters involved, if you are not comfortable with that please refrain from reading. Dom!Yoongi, Dom!Jungkook, Big Cock!Yoongi, Big Cock!Jungkook, Sub!Reader, fingering, Public Sex in classroom, Body Worship (mainly JK), cockwarming (sort of not really but like for a few mins) unprotected sex (jeez many times someone wrap their doodles please)

✉ Song Recommendations: (I love kdrama osts don’t hate me, also these are all spotify links so use youtube if you don’t have it) (Legit none of these fit the tone of the fic I just luv to recommend sht hehe)

♡ Weki Meki- Love Diamond

♡  Jus2- Take

♡  Junggigo- Too Good

♡  Punch, Glabingo- Beautiful Beautiful (watch hit the top it’s a beautiful kdrama hehe)

✉ Note: Anyways this is my first fic to be uploaded on tumblr! I spent a long time revising & working on this legit I have been staring at my computer for way too long and my eyes hurt because I wanted to get this out. It’s currently 4am as I upload this so if there are errors in the text I apologize in advance. (a girl is tired) Please don’t steal! This fanfic was inspired by the constant Youtube painting lives Yoongi has had. In the midst of writing I added Jungkook because he added more into the story. I was thinking of making this into a Occupation!BTS collection where I can make one for each member with different story lines. Let me know if you want me to do so in the comments below! (okay im talking to much bye)

“Y/N it seems like you still need 4 more credits added to your schedule to be eligible to graduate this semester.” your advisor told you. You honestly didn’t know you still needed more credits to graduate, you never cared to look. So when it came to registering, you signed up for the courses you needed as part of your International Studies degree. 

“What courses are still available for registration?” you asked even though you knew the number of courses to be left must be very few. “Well there is one course open, it’s Professor Min’s Painting 101. He’s a new professor here so it makes sense as to why not many students signed up with him yet.  Even though this course isn’t a requirement for your major, it will definitely cover up for the credits you need Y/N so I suggest you sign up for this. His course runs every Friday at 1 pm-3 pm” your advisor said as she handed you a summary of Professor Min’s course.

You looked over the summary of the course to know what you’re getting yourself into. It was a 101 class so of course, you will be in a class full of freshmen. That wasn’t too exciting however you didn’t mind painting, you are actually quite great at it as a hobby. With one last look at the sheet, you turn to your advisor “Okay I’ll take the course”.

It was finally Friday and today includes your very first class with Professor Min. Unfortunately, you couldn’t go on Rate My Professor to see what kind of teacher was he since he’s new. ‘I swear if he’s an asshole, I’m gonna give him a fucking one’ you thought to yourself. 

You were standing right in front of his classroom, sighing you stepped in to see a couple of students already seated. You tried looking for a seat next to an empty one only to see none, so you had to sit next to someone. Looking around the classroom to observe the students there, you saw a boy with long hair covering his eyes. ‘He looks like someone who won’t speak to me that’s perfect’ you thought as you made your way over and sat next to the boy. 

The boy looked up, staring at you for a bit before speaking “Hello! My name is Jungkook” he said smiling. ‘Oh for fuck’s sake, I forgot how friendly these freshmen are on the first day because they have no friends’ you thought. “Uh, h-hi my name is Y/N” you waved slightly at him. 

“Are you majoring in arts too?” he asked, his eyes were wide in a cute way. “No, actually I’m an International Studies major. I’m only taking this course for extra credits to graduate” you smiled at him. “Oh...so you must be older than me” he chuckled. You had, to be honest, his laugh was pretty cute. “Yeah I’m 22 however I’d like to think I was younger” you laughed and Jungkook laughed with you. You and Jungkook continued to talk until class began.

Suddenly the door opened and revealed a man who looked young with long brown and blonde hair. ‘Fuck he’s hot’ you thought as your gaze focused on him walking in. Jungkook leaned in and whispered in your ear “He’s quite the eye candy right” and you nodded. What else were you supposed to say of course you didn’t expect your painting professor to be a man who looked like he was in his mid 20’s. 

Professor Min’s eyes scanned the classroom before stopping on you for a bit. You could feel your face reddening as you felt his gaze on you. ‘Fuck stop thinking like this Y/N’. As you looked up at Professor Min he broke the stare and sat at his desk. “Okay, my name is Professor Min and welcome to my Painting 101 class, this course will include beginner level painting. You will learn the steps to becoming a better painter. I expect each and every one of you to come out of this class with at least more confidence in the arts.” he said as he looked over the class. 

Professor Min then took out his clipboard with the attendance sheet. He checked off each student one by one before hovering over your name tilting his head before looking up at you “Miss Y/N?” You immediately looked up at him “Yes?”. “It says here you’re a senior majoring in International Studies, is there a reason why you’re taking my course?” he asked still having his gaze on you.

“Ah um well I needed an extra course to get enough credits to graduate this semester and your course was the only option. However, I really like to paint as a hobby so I thought this class would be easy to take!” You answered trying to sound like you’re happy with taking the class. Professor Min nodded to your response “I see well welcome to the class as well” he smiled before standing up. 

“So for today’s class, we’ll start easy. Each of you will be doing individual work today by making a simple painting of your choice. I decided to make this a first-day activity because I want to see where you are in terms of levels of performance with painting however expect me to make some comments as this is a college course not a high school course. This will be due in class today. I expect each of you to explain your paintings and why you made them the way they are. You have 2 hours, so please get to your stations, the materials needed are on the carts in the corner.” Professor Min stated as he went back to his desk and started to go over some paperwork while we all began to work.

The two hours of painting were almost up and to be honest you were very satisfied with your painting. You painted two pink roses tied together that were falling from the sky. ‘Professor Min is going to love this’ you smiled at the thought. Jungkook looked over your shoulder to see what you painted and laughed a bit. “That’s definitely very simple but it’s cute Y/N,” he laughed giving you a light pat on the back. You turned to see what Jungkook painted to see that he made a fucking portrait of himself A PORTRAIT! “What the fuck Jungkook how did you get that done within just 2 hours?” you ask as now you felt not so confident in your painting anymore. “Well, I am a visual arts major what did you expect” Jungkook laughed as you rolled your eyes.

“Okay the 2 hours are up, I will start walking around the class to individually speak about your paintings. Once I grade them you can leave the classroom. I will post your homework for the week on canvas so make sure to check!” Professor Min said as he started to walk around the classroom to grade students.

Soon enough he reached Jungkook and he had no problem explaining his portrait of himself. “I really love the details of your painting Jungkook, I can see you will probably be one of the more advanced skilled students in our class, your grade for this assignment is an A” Professor Min smiled as he then turned to your painting. Jungkook had packed up his things and waved at you before leaving the classroom. 

It was just you and Professor Min in the classroom so the amount of nervousness you felt was really high. “Alright Y/N explain your painting to me” he asked as he looked directly at you. “Well, as you can see I painted two pink roses tied together that are also in the midst of falling from the sky. I actually didn’t know what to paint at the beginning if I had to be honest but I just let my head flow with whatever came to my mind first which was roses. Roses signify love, I’ve actually never felt that before but pink roses comfort me a lot which is why I painted them falling from the sky. The roses are not within the grass they are falling because they haven’t gotten to me even though I think about them a lot.” You were satisfied with your answer as you smiled at Professor Min.

He nodded and looked at your painting again. “I like the story behind this painting Y/N however I feel like you can add more detail in your painting. Maybe add something else to pair with the flowers or add some scenery behind it so it doesn’t look like a plain sky. I see lots of paintings like this Y/N and it’s too simple for the meaning behind it when other paintings look exactly like this. Try and add more of your other feelings to this. I will give you a C for this however if you take it home and re-do it, I can consider regrading your work” Professor Min said as he wrote down your grade on his clipboard and smiled “I’ll see you next Friday Miss Y/N” he said as he walked back to his desk. 

You just stood there trying to process what the fuck he just told you. It needed more detail, more work? You were sure you added everything you needed that was in your head. ‘I can’t believe this, Jungkook painted himself and got an A, what did I do wrong?’ you thought. “Miss Y/N are you alright?” Professor Min spoke up as he saw you still standing at your station. You snapped out of it and nodded over at him “Y-yeah I was just thinking of something else sorry, have a nice day!” you said as you grabbed your bag and your painting before rushing out the classroom. ‘I hope you choke on your fucking coffee Professor Min’ you thought as soon as you exited.

It was Friday again and throughout the week you worked on revising your painting as well as become close friends with Jungkook. “Did you get your painting done Y/N?” Jungkook asked as you sat down next to him. “Yeah, I was able to finish it hopefully he’s happy with this one even though I don’t understand what I did wrong in the first place,” you said sighing while taking your painting out and setting it next to your desk. “I thought it was fine even though it was simple, I think he’s just messing with you” Jungkook laughed. “If he’s messing with me I will chop his dick off for real,” you said frustrated.“ “I see I hope you don’t plan on doing that to me too” Jungkook laughed again. “As long as you don’t piss me off too much Kook then you’ll be fine” you smiled.

In the midst of talking, Professor Min walked in “Good Afternoon class, I hope you all have your homework ready to hand in. It will be the first thing we talk about in class today”. He said as he walked up to the chalkboard to write the word ‘blue’ on it. Shit shit shit, you forgot to do your homework because you were so focused on trying to redo your painting. Seeing you in distress, Jungkook handed you a sheet of paper and winked at you. You saw a post-it note on it and it said ‘I know you were trying to get your painting done all week so I did your homework for you!’. You smiled at the note before turning to Jungkook to give him a finger heart.

“So today before we start class we will go over the homework. Before I do that please pass them up so I know none of you are going to try adding in answers.” Professor Min said as we all started to hand our homework up. “This week’s homework was to give off your own meaning of the color blue, what does it mean to you and why did you think of that when you see or think of the color blue? Compared to many other colors, blue seems to be misinterpreted the most so I wanted to see what you all thought about it before we go more into observing colors” Professor Min said as he looked over the class before his eyes landed on you. “Miss Y/N what does the color blue mean to you,” he asked.

Trying to remember what you saw in your homework that Jungkook did you tried to answer. “When I see the color blue I think about the feeling of loneliness, it’s a color that for some reason emits sadness. Whenever I am alone and have no one, the color that first comes into mind to describe my feeling is blue,” you said as you exhaled feeling like you were holding your breath because you could still feel Professor Min’s intense gaze on you. He stared at you before responding “That’s an answer I expected, I am sure many of us had similar answers. The color blue definitely has a sort of tie to sadness however blue can have other meanings too, for example, it can symbolize healing.” Professor Min said. 

“Since we have about an hour left, I’d like for you all to go to your stations, and paint a fruit that represents you, the fruit must contain one of the colors we talked about today. Expect that all your paintings in class to represent yourself, because painting expresses the feeling of the artist themselves.” Professor Min said as he smiled.

“This is going to be a piece of cake,” Jungkook said as he turned to his canvas. “Do you think he’s going to correct me on this painting too?” you asked Jungkook while getting your palette out. He shook his head “Nah, come on Y/N this is fucking fruit we’re talking about there’s no way he won’t give you an A”. You honestly hope Jungkook was speaking the truth.

The class was almost over and the fruit you ended up painting was strawberries. You thought it came out pretty cute. As you turned to Jungkook’s painting you tilted your head “Weren’t we supposed to paint only one fruit, why did you paint a whole fruits basket?” you asked. Jungkook shrugged “I didn’t know what fruit to paint, I feel like I am someone with many traits that can’t be linked to just one fruit, so hopefully Professor Min likes it.” he said.

Professor Min started to walk around the classroom in order so that meant you would be last in the classroom again. He reached Jungkook “Wow Jungkook it seems as you thought outside of the box, tell me what your painting means,” Professor Min said happily. Jungkook chuckled before responding “Well I feel like my life can’t be represented through one fruit, I like to think highly of myself so painting every fruit I could think of expresses that I am happy and that having all these traits is not a problem as long as I feel content with it” Jungkook explained.

Professor Min nodded “You impressed me yet again Jungkook, that’s an A” he smiled as he moved onto your station. Jungkook gave you a huge smile and a thumbs up before leaving the classroom. “Before you show me your fruit painting I want to see your revised painting of your roses Y/N,” Professor Min said. You handed him the painting of your roses. “I added a scenery behind the roses, as you can see I added an ocean behind them. You don’t see flowers growing near the ocean, I put them there because reaching the feeling of love is rare for me and it usually wouldn’t go too far so the roses would die even if they land in the sand or water.” You spoke hoping Professor Min can give you an A.

Professor Min sighed “I think you’re thinking to deep into your feelings Y/N, the painting is beautiful actually however I’m sure love will be successful to you one day. I will up your grade for this painting to an A” he said as he moved onto your fruit painting. “Thank you! For my fruit painting, I decided to paint strawberries, they represent happiness because whenever I go eat them I’m always reminded of the pretty things in life.” You stated happily. “I think that’s a nice way to go about it Y/N however I think your strawberries need a little more detailing maybe add a prop like how jungkook added his fruits into a basket. I’ll give this a C, feel free to re-do it, and turn it in next Friday.” Professor Min said as he turned away without letting you speak.

What the fuck a C again? You didn’t understand but you didn’t care. If Professor Min wanted you to fix it then you will because you simply just wanted to graduate.

As each week passed by you became more and more frustrated. No matter what you did with all your paintings Professor Min always gives you a C just to regrade to an A once you redid them. “I’m literally going to fucking kill him if he gives me a C one more damn time” you rolled your eyes as you started to eat your pizza. 

“I think he’s hitting on you Y/N” Jungkook simply said as he sipped his banana milk. With that, you started to choke on your food “W-what?” you were sure that was not it, definitely, Professor Min hates you. “I don’t know it’s just weird that he keeps doing that and that he leaves you for last when it comes to grading. Plus you’re a senior right? Professor Min is only 27 there’s not too big of an age gap between the two of you.” he shrugged as he bit his pizza. “There’s no way in fucking hell he’s hitting on me, plus isn’t that illegal for a professor to do that?!” you questioned

“Not really as long as you both give consent to each other and keep it low it’s fine, plus you’re graduating so I don’t think he sees an issue.” Jungkook said as you hit him in the head with your phone “Well I promise you that’s not it, let’s not talk about this anymore kook” Jungkook grabbed his head chuckling while you just wanted to shut the conversation off because you honestly didn’t know how to feel if Professor Min actually liked you.

“Alright, so I will be walking around the classroom to look at the different birds each of you painted. This is the last assignment before I give you your final project next week, so I hope many of you improved with this assignment if it’s not good you may have trouble with the final as I will not be offering any regrading on it.” Professor Min firmly stated.

Time passed as he went to each student before reaching Jungkook. “What do we have here Jungkook?” Professor Min asked. “I painted a bluebird Professor Min, I thought it was perfect to paint as it symbolizes the arrival of spring but with the semester ending, I feel like I have put my all into all my works so the bluebird also symbolizes hard work!” Jungkook smiled while answering. “Nicely done Jungkook, you never fail to amaze me with your work. Your grade for this assignment is an A. I actually want to speak with you in my office tomorrow, even though you’re a freshman I feel like I wouldn’t mind having you as a mentor in my courses for next term.” Professor Min said as he smiled widely at Jungkook. ‘Thank you so much, I would love to help mentor students!” Jungkook smiled even his eyes fucking smiled. 

Professor Min walked over to you pulling out your grading sheet. Jungkook packed all of his things happily as he made a big heart with his hands before leaving the classroom. He has a habit of cheering you on with a cute gesture before Professor Min grades you.

“Seems like you have a similar color palette as Jungkook, what bird did you paint,” he asked looking at you. “I painted a Blue Jay Professor Min they have a meaning of being fearless. The reason why I painted it wasn’t because of the meaning but because of the color blue. I was reminded back to the popular meaning of the color blue, sadness. Even though the Blue Jay is fearless it makes me think if it sometimes feels lonely while pulling that Fearless front. I always try to stay strong for myself and pull through but there’s a point where I feel stuck but I don’t want to speak about it. We all experience fear in our lives whether that be alone or with someone else.” You exhaled as you said all of that. ‘Gosh talking for that long while having Professor Min’s stare is having too much of an effect on you’. 

“Wow Y/N the meaning you put to your painting is amazing, I love the connection” he squinted at the painted before continuing. “I think you should add something into the painting that shows what the Blue Jay may have a fear of. Other than that your grade is a C. You can come into my office after Jungkook tomorrow if you want to speak more into redoing this pro-” you cut him off as at this point you already had enough.

“Why a C, I don’t understand Professor Min please make me understand why you give me a fucking C every single time just for you to give me an A after I fix minor mistakes! This isn’t right and I want a true explanation why,” you yelled as you tried to slow down with your breathing.

“Y/N please lower your tone when speaking to me” he calmly said. “No! Just tell me why! I fix everything for you just for you to do the same shit all over again” you said already feeling tears coming up “Just why, please” you begged

“Y/N….your paintings always came out beautiful even without the regrading. I was interested in you on the first day of class when I noticed you were a bit older than all the other students, you stood out to me because this also isn’t your major of focus. You stood out in so many ways and I guess I wanted to get close to you. However, as my status as a professor, I can’t just do it so easily so my way of doing it was trying to keep you in the classroom and in contact with me as long as possible. I wanted to see you more Y/N because I like you.” Professor Min said as he looked into your eyes trying to at least find something.

“P-professor Min…” you stuttered surprised by his confession. “Please call me Yoongi Y/N, class is over” he stated as he got closer to you. “I don’t know what to say...Yoongi” you said moving your gaze to the floor, you couldn’t believe he was doing all this because he liked you, Jungkook was right. Yoongi grabbed your chin lightly as he lifted it before he placed his lips on yours. You kissed back slowly as Yoongi placed his hand behind your head to deepen it.

You could feel yourself starting to get hot as things got intense with the kiss and somehow you’re at Yoongi’s desk sitting on his lap. “Fuck Y/N you’re so beautiful did you know that I’ve been thinking about you like this for a while now,” he said in between the kiss as he could feel you trying to rut on his bulge. He chuckled “I bet your so wet right now Y/N look at you rutting against my cock that’s not even out for you yet.” You whined as you just wanted some pleasure, it’s been a while since you hooked up with anyone. “Yoongi please I just want your cock,” you said trying to rub your clothed core on his lap for stimulation. “Yeah? Want my cock right here huh when anyone can walk in and see my cock stuffed in your pussy?” Yoongi kissed your neck as you moaned. His words were so dirty which turned you on even more. “Yes yes Y-yoongi I need it!” you cried out.

“I need your pants off  Y/N,” he said as he helped you take off your pants leaving you in just your underwear. You couldn’t believe you were doing this in a classroom with your own Professor. You helped Yoongi take his pants off and then you were left staring at his boxers. “Y/N take my cock out and suck” he demanded as he stared at you. You could tell he was already eye-fucking you. You put your hand into the opening of his boxers and pulled out his cock. 

Fuck. He. Was. Huge 

You didn’t waste time given the circumstances you’re in, you started to suck his cock. You couldn’t fit all of him it was too much however Yoongi grabbed the back of your head forcing his cock to go all the way in your mouth making you tear up. “Fuck Y/N that’s it take this cock, I think I’ll come soon” Yoongi growled as he guided your head down his cock. While you were sucking, Yoongi took out his phone to capture the sight of you. He never painted nude paintings because he wanted to wait for someone he loved to do so. Just by looking at you, he wanted to make you into art for only him to see. 

You could feel Yoongi’s grip on your head tighten signaling that he was close to cumming. “Y/N where do you want me to cum sweetheart,” he asked looking down at you his hair sticking to his skin. You pointed to your mouth as you couldn’t form words obviously. “Your mouth is so good for me Y/N taking this cock so well” he grunted before he shot his cum into your mouth slowing down the pace of his hand on your head.

You swallowed every drop before lifting yourself onto his lap and leaning in to kiss him again. “Y/N I want my cock inside you,” he said as he grabbed your ass and positioned you over the tip of his cock before slamming inside you. “Yoongi! Fuck ugh!” you moaned out loud before Yoongi placed his hand on your mouth. “Baby you have to be quiet unless you want to let the whole school know your mine” he whispered in your ear. You moaned loudly into his hands, you couldn’t help it because Yoongi didn’t even let you adjust to his cock.

“Your pussy is so tight Y/N I might cum sooner then I thought” he moaned as he flips you over. Your face was now against his desk as Yoongi was fucking you from behind. “C-cum inside me Y-yoongi!” you cried out without thinking. Yoongi started to thrust harder and deeper “Shit okay Y/N, Do you like that? Having your professors cock inside your sweet little pussy to make you nice and full?” he growled as he started to slam his cock in and out your pussy. “Yes yes yes! I like that Y-yoongi! I-I’m going to cum fuck!” You suddenly saw white spots as your orgasm hit, you could feel Yoongi’s pace fastening as he started to spurt his cum into you.

Oh, fuck what have I done.

Yoongi pulled out slowly catching his breath before putting on his pants. “Y/N? Are you okay sweetheart?” he asked as he grabbed some tissues to clean you up. Without taking a glance at him you started to quickly put on your clothes. “Y/N?” he called out worried that you weren’t responding. “We can’t do this Yo- Professor Min it’s inappropriate and was a mistake I need to go,” you said as you teared up. You quickly grabbed your things ignoring Professor Min’s calling out.

You dialed Jungkook’s number hoping he would pick up. “Hey Y/N finished with talking with Professor Min?” he answered as you sniffled. “Y/N? Are you okay? Do you need me to take you back to your dorm?” he asked. “Please hurry Kook, I c-can’t do this” you pleaded. Jungkook comforted you through the phone as he went over to pick you up.

“So you had sex with Professor Min?” Jungkook blinked repeatedly as he was trying to take in the whole story. You nodded wiping your tears “It was wrong but it felt so good and it’s bothering me kook, I don’t know what to tell him.” Jungkook handed you a tissue “Y/N there’s obviously feelings between the both of you the only thing stopping you are each other statuses. The fact that Yoongi didn’t kick you out of the classroom and offered to clean you shows that he isn’t one of those people. I’m sure he’s hurt too Y/N. The best advice I can give is for both of you to give each other space until you’re ready to confirm your feelings back. If you realize the relationship is no good then let him know.” he stated as he gave you a hug. “Thank you, Kook. I’m surprised you don’t have a girlfriend when you’re so nice” you tried to smile as you were in Jungkook’s arm. 

“I do have a crush on someone but I don’t think she likes me back” he sighed. “At least try but don’t fuck up like me” you chuckled. Jungkook nodded the problem was that you didn’t know that you were his crush. Jungkook was in love with you but he knew that it was never going to happen.

It was suddenly Friday again which means you had to see Yoongi. You were nervous you had no contact with him since you two had sex. You walked into the classroom seeing Jungkook give you a warm smile. Jungkook pointed in front of you so you looked over just to see Professor Min was early however he looked less like his happy self.

“Alright, so today’s class will be short because I will assign you all your final projects. For this project, you must make a collage of a color with multiple shades that speak words. You have 2 weeks to complete this project class dismissed.” Professor Min said as he gathered his things and left the classroom.

“Woah that was quick, Professor Min always uses his full class time no matter what,” Jungkook said as he sighed. “I think it’s because of me Kook, fuck what have I done. I really fucked everything up I’m sure instead of a C he’s going to give me an F.” You felt like crying, to be honest. “Hey, it’s okay. Want to come over my place to destress? We can watch Disney movies?” Jungkook smiled as he wanted to make you happy. You nodded “That would be great Kook” you smiled.

You and Jungkook were currently on the 5th Disney movie for the night. “Why can’t my love life be like a Disney movie, I feel like my story with Yoongi is like one of those tragedies before they get remade into a Disney Movie” you sighed reaching for some strawberries. Jungkook’s grip tightened on his cup of juice, he hated how you only spoke about Yoongi since the incident occurred. “Y/N if you keep thinking about Professor Min you’ll only stress yourself out more, give it a rest for just a bit, and maybe talk with him when finals are done?” he suggested. 

“The problem is that he’s all I ever think about Jungkook, I really thought I could forget about him even while watching these movies but it’s worse now.” you sighed. Jungkook looked at you for a moment before suggesting something that made you confused. “Then let me help you forget,” he said as he looked into your eyes. “Jungkook?” you were confused by what he meant, as you laid your eyes on him his lips were against yours. Unlike the kiss with Yoongi, you weren’t responding back. “Please Y/N…..just for today...let me do this,” he asked as his eyes looked into yours searching for permission to continue. Jungkook was younger than you by a few years but you trust him and know he means no harm and that he just wants to help. You nodded as you kissed Jungkook back.

In just about 5 minutes both yours and Jungkook’s clothes were discarded on the floor. “Fuck Y/N is this what you let Professor Min see? He doesn’t deserve to see your beautiful body.” Jungkook said as he placed his mouth over your nipple. You moaned out “J-Jungkook!” as Jungkook started to suck on your breasts “Did Professor Min worship your breasts like this? I bet he hasn’t huh” he chuckled as he gave you small bites over your chest. Your hands reached to Jungkooks bottom half as you tried to grab his cock. He wasn’t as big as Yoongi but definitely Jungkook’s cock was thicker making your pussy clench around nothing. “Eager aren’t you Y/N? Just want my cock in your tight pussy right?” Jungkook smirked.

“Please Jungkook no teasing I just want you inside” you whined as you could already feel some of your arousal slipping out. Jungkook laid your body onto the couch. He left for a bit to grab something only to come back with a blindfold. “A b-blindfold?” you titled your head.

“I know you don’t love me Y/N, I’m only helping you take your mind off things so I thought having you wear the blindfold would help because I don’t want anything to change between us,” he said as he placed it over your eyes. “Thank you Kook, don’t worry I won’t forget about you and I feel bad for even letting this happen, I don’t want to lead you on,” you said sadly. “Y/N I wanted this too I promise you I’m okay with this,” he said softly.

Jungkook wasted no time as he hovered over you inching his cock slowly inside you. He groaned “Mm Y/N your so fucking wet just for me, look at how easily you’re taking this cock”. You moaned as you felt Jungkook stretching you out, you could only see darkness which caused you to clench on him. He hissed “Y/N please don’t clench like that baby I might cum within seconds.” he laughed. His laugh brought a smile to your face, you definitely felt comfort in Jungkook’s arm.

Jungkook spent his time thrusting into you repeatedly, you could feel yourself about to cum soon as your walls started to tighten around Jungkook’s cock. “K-kook I’m going to cum” you moaned as you gripped Jungkook’s back hard. “F-fuck okay I think I’m going to cum soon too Y/N, want me to cum inside you?” he asked heavily panting as he continued to thrust into you. “Yes come inside me I know you want to Kook” Jungkook’s heart felt like it was going to explode he was doing this for you but he smiled as you cared about his feelings too. You knew that the both of you probably won’t ever do this again which is why you agreed. 

Jungkook changed positions as now you were sitting on his lap, He grabbed your waist making sure to help you with the pace. You wrapped your arms around him as you felt your orgasm hitting you “Jungkook ugh cum in me now” you whined as Jungkook thrust you through your orgasm and then cumming inside you.

You laid on top of Jungkook with his cock still inside you catching your breath. “You good Y/N? Let’s get you cleaned up, you can stay over if you want for the night I’ll sleep on the couch.” Jungkook offered as he slipped your blindfold off.  You nodded already feeling sleepy “Thank you kook, and I’m so so sorry. I really hope one day a person who deserves you a lot will love you” you teared up saying it because you didn’t want to hurt him he’s your friend who loves you and you weren’t sure if you liked him back.

Jungkook smiled as he slipped out of you “Y/N it’s okay I’m just happy that I could take your mind off things for a bit, if it all goes wrong just know I’ll welcome you with open arms” he said as he helped clean you up before handing you some extra clothes to put on.

2 weeks passed like it was nothing and soon enough it was Friday the day finals were due. “What color did you base your collage painting on kook?” you asked him. “Oh I based it on the color purple, apparently it signifies having creativity and I definitely think I represent that” he laughed. “You really love yourself, huh, but that’s a good thing so I can’t really make fun of you for it” you chuckled.

“What about yours Y/N?” with his question you paused before speaking “Well um it’s based around the color pink. I can’t go much into detail but basically this is my confession painting to Professor Min” you said blushing a bit, nervous to speak to Professor Min after weeks have passed. “Ah is that why you didn’t attach an explanation note to your painting,” he asked and you nodded. “Good luck Y/N, I hope everything works out and let me know if you guys get some,” he said wiggling his brows. You laughed and playfully pushed him.

Professor Min walked in and stood in front of the class. “Alright everyone today is your last class with me today. Don’t worry we aren’t going to be doing anything today. All you have to do is bring your canvas up to the front of the room and make sure your explanation notes are attached to your paintings. I hope you all have a wonderful summer break” Professor Min smiled as students started to submit their paintings and then walk out the classroom.

Jungkook patted you lightly on the back and gave you a thumbs up before leaving the classroom. You smiled and started to pack up your things slowly as you waited for Professor Min to notice that you didn’t attach a note to your painting.

“Miss Y/N please come to my desk, the rest of you drop your paintings here and go” he stated.

Here we go, you exhaled before walking over to his desk. “Yes Professor Min?” you asked fully knowing what he was going to tell you. “I don’t see an explanation note attached to your painting,” he said as he looked up at you for the first time in weeks. “I didn’t write one,” you said plainly. “Well since you didn’t write one I am going to have to give you a-” before Professor Min could continue you cut him off “I love you Yoongi,” you said looking at him for a reaction.

“Y/N wha-” he said in a surprised tone. “My painting, it’s my response back to your confession Yoongi. I found love and it’s you” you told him as you started to blush. “Really?” he asked and you nodded.

“Fuck come here Y/N” Yoongi called and you obliged and sat on his lap to start kissing him. “Gosh so that means your mines now?” he asked as he started to undress you. “Y-yes I’m yours now Yoongi officially” you let Yoongi undress you as you stared at his eyes while he was doing so. Yoongi paused as he saw bite marks over your chest. “Y/N where did these marks come from” as you didn’t answer he inserted two fingers into your pussy thrusting them in. “Who did it Y/N tell me right now or I won’t give you my cock,” he said sternly as you cried out “Jungkook Jungkook did them!”

Yoongi chuckled “Where’s your phone Y/N” you pointed to your desk. Yoongi pulled out his fingers as he made his way over to your desk. “What’s the password,” he asked. “Bluemyg” he typed in the password as he started to look for Jungkook’s number in your contacts and pressed call when he found it. Jungkook immediately answered of course because it’s you.

“Did everything go well Y/N?” Jungkook asked. “Come to my class Jungkook right now,” Yoongi said as he hung up the phone turning it on silent. “Yoongi what are you doing?��� you wanted to know why in the world did he call Jungkook over when you’re naked on his desk. Yoongi didn’t answer you back and slid his cock inside you “Fuck even after Jungkook fucked you he left you nice and tight for me” Yoongi chuckled.

Jungkook entered into the classroom to see Professor Min with his cock inside you. “H-huh,” Jungkook said as his eyes were blown wide. “Jungkook put your cock in her mouth,” Yoongi said not giving Jungkook an explanation. Jungkook just stood there trying to process what’s going on.

You moaned out “Jungkook just do it, it’s okay!”. With permission on your end, Jungkook unzips the front of his pants and pulls his cock out. He made his way over and placed his cock right above your mouth. “Y/N suck,” Yoongi demanded. You opened your mouth to take Jungkook in while looking up into his eyes.

“Isn’t she gorgeous Jungkook, taking two cocks at the same time with the door wide open for anyone to see,” Yoongi said as he continued to thrust into you. Jungkook nodded as he guided your head to suck his cock. You could barely think about anything when you had two cocks occupying your holes. You pulled away from Jungkook’s cock “I-I’m going to cum”. “Jungkook put your cock in her mouth again and cum when I say so okay?” Yoongi said as Jungkook agreed while thrusting his cock back into your mouth.

You started to clench harder around Yoongi’s cock as you whined while having Jungkook’s cock deep in your throat. “Cum” at that moment Jungkook and Yoongi started to pound into you and release their load. Your vision blacked out after your orgasm.

“Is she okay?” Jungkook asked as Yoongi closed the classroom door and pulled down the shades. “She’ll be fine, I think she was overwhelmed by taking the both of us,” Yoongi responded as he went over to you to start cleaning you up with wipes. “I’m not sure if Y/N will be okay with it, we’ll have to get her opinion on it, but I don’t mind having you in the relationship as well Jungkook I know you love her too,” Yoongi suggested. Jungkook’s eyes widened “R-really? Prof- Yoongi are you sure” Jungkook asked not expecting this. Yoongi nodded “I’m super sure” he smiled.

You opened your eyes to look to the right to see both Yoongi and Jungkook talking. “Did I pass out?” you asked making your presence known. Both of them looked at you and nodded. “Y/N how about adding Jungkook into our relationship?” Yoongi asked immediately. Your gaze turned to Jungkook expecting your answer “I-I don’t mind….I know you thought I didn’t love you Jungkook but after that night my feelings started to develop for you.” you smiled “I love you both” you said as you walked up to the both of them and kiss them both on the lips. 

“Since we’re still sorta naked how about we make a body painting collage using all the colors we can” Jungkook suggested.

“I’m all in for it what about you Yoongi?” you asked looking at him. He laughed “Wow this is going to be a long day, let’s do it!”

✈ Um hi! I hope you enjoyed my very first fic on tumblr. Please leave me feedback down below whether it’s good or bad. I will start working on getting a masterlist post soon! Feel free to ask me questions or make comments on ‘Ask Starrymin’.

✈ I will try my best to get the Mother’s day Barista!Namjoon x Single Mother!Reader fic done this week. My plan was to get it done today however colors took me much longer than I thought. So please wait a little more until I upload it!

✈ Anyways I hope you all have a wonderful day! Please stay safe and healthy. Also I’d like to wish Happy mother’s day to all the moms out there and even mother like figures too! 

→ Feel free to support me on Kofi

→ My BTS fic recs

#bts x reader #bts x reader angst #bts x reader fluff #bts x reader smut #Yoongi x reader #Yoongi x reader smut #Yoongi x reader fluff #Yoongi x reader angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader angst #jungkook x reader smut #jungkook x reader fluff #poly bts #poly yoongi #poly jungkook #bts x reader poly #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook #yoongi #jeon jungkook #min yoongi #painter yoongi

[yuvon-writes-letters]

[Right on the top of the letter is a sighing girl drawn]

I really thought I could rest a few days before leaving. Like last time, ya know? I could've been more prepared. Didn't even get the call yet.

But I guess you're right. Exactly when you figured it out Jake did, too. (With a little bit help of goldie. They sent him the Tumblr conversation. The whole conversation. Without any comment.)

So yeah, either the MWAF knows where I work or (and that is a scary thought) even is there somehow sometimes.

Jake wanted me to promise to not go back there, but I couldn't. At least not for now. I want to go back there once, for now I shouldn't be in danger. At least not if he goes the same way as last time.

I should get a call from him later that day. And tomorrow I should find the raven note on my desk (after my lunch break). Later that day I saw the first time a guy with a mask. Then again the morning after I took the picture I sent TSB.

And that same evening I started hiding.

So I thought I still had some time...But it seems that isn't the case.

I would love to take Max, even though he can be a real asshole sometimes, but I don't believe that is clever. [The writing becomes shaky, almost unreadable to the end of the sentence]

I don't know anything anymore, just that I don't want all of this to happen again...

[Here are many ink blots, as if a pen was thrown on the paper]

Sorry..Sorry about that. My door bell started ringing. Surprise surprise, my idiot of a cousin. (I still love him though. Even if I'll never forgive him that he stole designs of me. Urgh. Sorry, nervous.)

He thought I acted weird when we texted earlier and my boss wanted him to check up on me.

What does a nervous little fox Liska do? (Little fox is a nickname he gave me when we were little xD I somtimes start using it when we're both in a weird situation)

He almost called the police, thinking I was in some weird 'abusive relationship' with, and I quite, "this Jake asshole".

It seems someone wrote him a text. An unknown number.

I already texted Jake about that..Any my guess is that the MWAF realised that he couldn't hack Jake anymore. So he tries different ways.

But it's fine now, I think I could convince him that everyone was okay. Even though now I have to take vacation with him. He wants to go tomorrow afternoon if I don't want him to call my parents. Why? That if I'm lying I'm not in danger anymore.

I mean, he's not fully wrong. Just that he doesn't have the facts right. (Which he couldn't. I'm still surprised that me being a suspect of kidnapping Hannah or helping a wanted hacker didn't go beyond Duskwood. But that's good.)

Oh and also, Jake just answered, he thinks it's good if I just go with Max in the moment. I think he stalked his Facebook profile. (Max did taekwondo for many years. Facebook tells his story)

But yeah, I am very sorry if this is an unsorted letter, not much happened and still many unsaid thoughts crossed my mind.

Liska🐾🔥

Ps. Also Jake wants me to thank the both of you for taking care of me when he couldn't. And still doing it.

And that I say that he's still not pleased with my decision to go to work tomorrow.

Lis,

So, Goldie's really taking more of an active role, now. I sort of thought they were finished until we massively fuck up again, but I guess they just don't want us to ask them questions or something. Interesting.

I wonder if that means the TSB timeline is still continuing

So the raven note on your desk comes tomorrow? I really wouldn't assume you're safe 'til then, but I guess if your Jake can't convince you, no one can XD

Still. Maybe now-ish would be a good time to take a long trip somewhere sunny. And crowded. Preferably with as many people as possible, who will notice if you go missing.

This is not going to happen again. We have several Jakes and two fairly smart people plus me helping you, PLUS an entity on your side, PLUS the advantage of knowing AND HAVING DOCUMENTATION on exactly how the previous timeline went. All we have to do is figure out a place you'll be safe, and bam, we're done.

...That's a pretty good opportunity, honestly. I agree with your Jake, you should go with your cousin. Though I'm curious what exactly the MWAF said to your cousin that convinced him that you were in danger. You might want to make sure that, a., the MWAF didn't suggest a location and you're not going there, b., your cousin turns off GPS tracking on his phone or just leaves it at home, and c., that your cousin doesn't post pictures of you on social media wherever you go.

Don't worry about the letter not being neat and stuff, I don't care too much about that. As long as

One sec Jessys texting me

Nothing important, she's still trying to test if I've been kidnapped or not without saying it outright. I lost my train of thought from earlier. Oh well.

You're welcome, Jake :) And I definitely emphasize with you on that one -_-

Passing the letter over to my Jake now.

(The handwriting changes to Jake's.) Hello, Lis.

Your workplace is very clearly an unsafe environment, but upon reflection and having read ahead and read Max's offer, I believe you actually should go into work, at least for the day. It will give less of our cards away to the enemy. However, do be vigilant. We know that our actions have already changed the timeline to at least some extent, the breadth of which is still unclear.

I am not entirely sure what the kidnapper would gain from having your cousin watching carefully over you in the window of time the kidnapper would have taken to track you down, however. Could it be possible that Goldie was the one to send your cousin the message, rather than the kidnapper?

I concur with Yuvon that the previous timeline's events will not repeat, however, for the exact same reasons she listed, though I will edit it slightly: we have three Jakes and three intelligent people working on the case, including Yuvon. I think I may need to speak with her about this.

Most of the advice I would have given about precautions for the vacation with your cousin has already been covered by Yuvon :)

You are welcome, Jake.

I noticed that in my agitation from your last letter, I accidentally skimmed over some key points. My apologies. I'll answer them now.

I will attempt to find a good point to bring up the matter with her, but she is busy enough trying to mitigate the concerns of the "Crow Crew" that I do not think that should be done at the current moment.

While I am... fond of the "underlying desire" theory, I do not, on reflection, believe it. The fact that she would subconsciously choose me, rather than a family member or a friend she has known longer than myself, seems unlikely. Especially not when she had been quite incensed at me very, very recently. It simply makes no sense.

Though, admittedly, if the situation was reversed, she would likely be

The stasis wavering is both good and bad news. It has been both a benefit and a detriment thus far. Ensure that the group does not draw the kidnapper's ire instead, without alerting them that you are in danger, should they break loose of the stasis alone. Until then, based on the results from Yuvon previously contacting them, I suggest you avoid contact unless they open communication first.

Good luck, Lis and Jake.

—Jake & Yuvon

(The letter tucks itself into the paper clip with the others.)

#duskwood letter game #yuvon writes letters #duskwood #duskwood game #duskwood everbyte #duskwood jake #lis

[dramaticlester]

willow

Summary: Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind (inspiration from “willow”  by taylor swift)

genre: angst with a happy ending

warnings: swearing

Sometimes, Dan just wishes he tried harder. Other times, he’s just happy he’s still loved by Phil.

There was a time when it was just them against the world. They were scary times but, in a way, Dan had felt the safest during them. Every single risk was taken together and somehow they all paid off. Phil was an anchor, solid to the ground and Dan just clung on for dear life, unable to sway every which way. They were a team, initially fuelled by admiration and love, later fuelled by passion and creativity. 

It wasn’t that Dan fell out of love, quite the opposite actually. It was more that he fell so in love that he was scared of how deep he could go. There was a time when he couldn’t do anything without Phil being by his side and that was well and truly terrifying because he was a grown man, so co-dependant that thoughts of how he’d cope alone kept him up at night. The conversation hadn’t gone well, Phil was left hurt and broken down. Dan was left empty.

But they grew; like a willow tree. Strong and beautiful, using their roots to bloom. Their fans were loyal, sticking by them through the awkwardness and turmoil. They never really understood, though.

Dan had thought something was wrong with Phil for a while. He was...happy. And not in his usual Phil way, but something much deeper. His smile was wider, his tongue peeking out the corner more often. He was fresh and ready to work on his projects, never letting the strenuous hours of work he was doing per day get him down. 

Dan was happy for him of course, happy that he didn’t dwell on the past. Phil still loved him, though in a much different way to what he once did. Dan told himself that was fine, though.

“Hey...” Phil started, wandering into the living room. It was 10am. Dan hadn’t slept, but he could tell from the way that Phil sat opposite him, his leg not pulled up beneath him, that it was serious.

Dan stopped his typing, peering over the top of his laptop. Phil was looking at him expectantly, his face pulled into an unreadable expression.

“Um, hi?” Dan said, raising an eyebrow.

“Dan, I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen, okay?” he said, lip worried between his teeth.

“Phil...” 

“I’m seeing someone. He’s really incredible,” Phil whispered, head down turned. 

The pain wasn’t instant, rather a numbness. It took over Dan’s brain like fire, his fingers tingling. He pulled his lips into a smile, what did he expect? 

“That’s wonderful, I’m very happy for you,” Dan lied. Phil rolled his eyes at him.

“You’re a terrible liar, but thanks for trying.”

“I’m sorry,” Dan whispered. “I really am happy for you, Phil.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt though, right?” Phil said sadly, his hand grabbing hold of Dan’s. “This doesn’t change us, okay?”

“Phil, don’t worry. I’m not a child,” Dan smiled, squeezing Phil’s hand. The sentiment was nicer than Dan would admit.

It wasn’t true, though. Everything did change and Dan had to pretend it was okay. Even worse, Owen was lovely. He was tall and poised, hair a curly mop atop his head, not unlike Dan’s, with kind green eyes that quite literally twinkled, even under the dim light of Dan and Phil’s living room light. Dan had to sit in the living room and watch a film with them as they giggled, curled up on the one person armchair as if there wasn’t a whole sofa.

“I think I’m gonna retire,” Dan said halfway through the film, when the sound of smacking lips was almost too much for his heart to handle; on the precipice of shattering. He was heartbroken in a way he never had been before.

He stood up, muttering a goodnight in Phil’s direction.

When he was in his bed, he didn’t cry like he wanted to. He just scrolled through depressing quotes on Tumblr, liking a few and leaving the detecting skills up to the fans. He was hurting so badly. He realised he never had really gotten out of that pit. He was falling deeper, but this time he didn’t have Phil’s chest to soften his fall, or his hand to hold when he got a little too close to the end. 

Head on the pillow, I could feel you sneakin' in

He could see people already speculating, but it just hurt his heart even more to see the theories.

There was a knock at the door at 12:07am.

“Dan?” Phil’s voice drifted to him.

“Phil,” Dan replied, his voice was much more cracked then he would’ve liked.

“I’m sorry,” Phil whispered. Dan heard him shuffling, confused until the corner of his duvet lifted up and Phil slipped in beside him, their faces inches away.

“What are y-” Dan started.

“I’m trying to apologise to you, you stubborn bitch,” Phil joked, eyes half-lidded.

“You don’t need to apologise, Phil. You deserve to be happy,” Dan promised. Phil’s hand emerged from under the duvet, cradling Dan’s cheek. He felt Phil swipe under his eyes. When did he start to cry?

“So do you,” Phil mumbled, tilting his head. 

“I already fucked it up. Don’t let me do it again,” Dan said.

“I love you, idiot,” Phil said, his voice sounded sad now. “But I love Owen, too.”

“I love you, too, Phil,” Dan whispered, choking on a sob.

Phil cradled Dan, pulling him into his chest with an arm around him.

“Well what are we going to do?” Phil asked. He sounded so fucking tired; almost as tired as Dan felt.

“I don’t know.”

“Me neither.”

The more that you say, the less I know

Dan was lost. He woke up the morning after, his bed empty and freezing cold. He wasn’t thriving anymore. He couldn’t go on Tumblr or twitter without seeing his face and he couldn’t go into his own kitchen without seeing his face either.

That's why he was at Reading train station, his mouth dry as he recited his family home address.

His mum didn’t ask too many questions when he called. As soon as he told her, she told him to come to her. 

Going back home was positive in ways, but really negative in others. Especially when he’d spent a Christmas with the Lester's once. His childhood home was cold and filled with terrifying things, mental demons and sign posts of things that made him feel nauseous.

“Sweetheart, I made tea,” his mum said, unsure on how to react. 

Dan was already crying by the time they’d sat down at the table, telling his mum everything. She probably struggled to follow, but she nodded along and reached out a hand to hold Dan’s when he started clenching his fist, unsure on what to do with his muscles.

“Dan,” she said slowly, her eyes were kind. “You love Phil.”

“That’s the problem,” he whispered, using the heel of his hand to wipe his eyes. “That’s the fucking problem. Because he loves me, too.”

“And I love you, too,” she said. “I know it’s not the same, Daniel, but we’re strong, yeah? We’re here together. I know it’s weird for you, but I’m really happy. You’ve grown into everything I wanted for my child. You’re capable and wise and so so intelligent, Dan. Phil is your best friend, don’t let this ruin you.”

“I’m trying,” he breathed.

“I know, love.”

-

Dan had been ‘home’ for 5 days. It had only been him and his mum. They’d bonded and done things together that they should’ve done before he was 29 years old, but they did them. He felt..happy?

He was woken in the night though, his phone vibrating on the table rousing him from an actually peaceful sleep.

“Phiw?” Dan slurred, eyes squinted at the clock 12:07am

“Dan, come home.”

Phil was sobbing down the phone, actual painful sobs that tore Dan’s heart out.

“Phil, fuck, are you okay?” Dan panicked, jumping out of bed. He was topless, exposed to the cold air, but he didn’t really care.

“Dan, please,” was all Phil cried. 

Show me the places where the others gave you scars

“Mum, I have to go,” Dan heard himself saying, knocking on the door to his mums room.

“Why? Are you okay?” she asked groggily. A mothers instinct.

“It’s Phil,” Dan stuttered. “He just called. He’s sobbing down the phone to me, he won’t tell me what's wrong.”

-

Dan’s mum had helped him pack his stuff and gathered him up into her car.

“Mum, it’s like a 90-minute drive.”

“Darling,” was all she said with a shake of her head. “Some things are more important than an extra 90 minutes in bed.”

The ride was tense though, Dan was constantly texting Phil telling him he was on his way,

5 minutes

was the last thing he sent before he was clambering out of his mums car and getting his bags out the boot.

“Bye, mum, thankyou for everything,” Dan said as she stepped out the car to wrap him in a hug, somehow managing despite her tiny frame.

“I love you, look after him.”

“I love you, too. And I will.”

He waved her off, jittering anxiously to get to Phil. Once she was off in the distance, he went up to their apartment, opening the door.

“Phil?” Dan called, dropping his bags down. He was about to go looking before he was pushed up against a wall, lips covering his own. Dan could still taste the salt of his tears.

“Dan,” Phil whimpered as they pulled away briefly for air before reconnecting their lips.

“I’ve got you, bub,” Dan mumbled, pulling Phil even closer to him, two large hands covering his lower back till they were pushed flushed together from head to toe.

They just kept kissing, but their hands stayed where they were. Phil’s embracing around Dan’s neck and Dan rubbing gentle circles into Phil’s back.

When they finally pulled away, Phil rested his forehead against Dan’s, sniffling slightly.

“Dan, I love you.”

“I love you.”

-

When Phil had calmed down, Dan had managed to get him to settle down in his bed to have a bit of extra sleep, clinging to Dan like a koala. Dan would never let him go again if he could help it.

“Dan,” Phil mumbled before he slept, yawning.

“Hmm?” Dan whispered.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to realise. It’s always been you. I really didn’t want it to be, but it is.”

“It’s always been us, Phil,” Dan promised, kissing the top of his head.

“Dan and Phil vs the world,” Phil muttered, nestling more into Dan’s chest.

I'm begging for you to take my hand Wreck my plans, that's my man

#phan #fluff #angst #gettingbacktogether #phanfiction #danandphil #dramaticlester

[hglog]

PBTA Spelljammer GLOG Thing?

Recently, my father dug up his old Traveller and MegaTraveller books for me, and after having a lot of fun reading through them, I can definitively say I don’t ever want to GM the system. But it got me in a space-gaming mood and my mind turned to two things. First, the Uncharted Worlds game I was once a player in, which seems to have borrowed a lot of the good aspects of Traveller and put them into a PBTA system, which I love very much. Second, the AD&D setting Spelljammer which is an amazing science-fantasy fever dream that I’ve unfortunately never gotten to experience firsthand. Naturally, I decided I’d make an RPG. And, ever since I discovered it, GLOG has basically consumed a large part of my mindspace whenever I think about RPGs.

Now it’s about a month later, and I have a lot written, but even more still to write. My biggest issue is getting my thoughts organized. I’m always a lot neater when I know other people are going to see my work. So, in a hope to make things more coherent for myself, I’m going to let you in on what I have to far.

What I like about Spelljammer

Science fiction minus the science

Practically any science fiction trope you can think of fits into the setting, but when it comes to the actual science, it’s this weird-ass mix of a classical Greek and medieval alchemist understanding of the cosmos.

You don’t have to worry about players “um, actually”-ing you about what happens in the vacuum of space, because it’s actually not even a vacuum!

Magic = FTL

Despite the previous point, its science is actually still relatively “hard” when it comes to internal consistency and logical consequences to its different laws of reality than our own. The magic, on the other hand, is magic. My headcanon is that the speed of light imposes a hard limit, but magic is the one thing able to ignore it.

While people could theoretically pull off a no-magic spacecraft launch (if they had a few thousand more years of technological development), for the most part, if something is in space, it’s probably because a wizard decided they wanted it to be in space.

Weird-ass spaceships

Since a spaceship is “anything you can put a spelljamming throne in,” you get a delightful mix of regular boats, classic pulp sci-fi or space opera spaceships, weird organic tentacled things, and whatever else strikes your fancy.

What if a dragon died and all the kobolds that worshipped it somehow got enough spell slots to just pilot its corpse into space and start fucking shit up?

Sadly, Spelljammer doesn’t offer a lot of customization, instead just relying on a wide catalogue of weird ships used by different aliens.

Wizards

What I like about PBTA

Adaptable to basically any setting

There is a great wealth of hacks I can draw from

These two points go hand in hand. I haven’t, however, been able to find a specifically spelljammer-inspired PBTA hack, so that’s why I’m doing this.

The PBTA games I’ve read through in creating this (so far) are  Uncharted Worlds, Dungeon World, and the original Apocalypse World.

Encourages little preparation

My biggest challenge in running a game that’s interstellar in scope is my instinct to pre-prepare everything, which is already problem if I think I need to make an entire country, let alone an entire planet. But now we’re talking not only a planet but every planet.

While you can do worldbuilding as the GM for a PBTA game, you can also not do any, and let the players do all the work for you upon character creation. Dungeon World is especially good at this.

It’s fun

I’ve enjoyed every PBTA game I’ve been a player or a GM for, no exceptions (so far).

It’s extremely easy to teach people

Most of my friends are not as into learning new systems as I am. But most of them have already played at least one PBTA system, and if they haven’t, it wouldn’t be as much of a hassle as say, AD&D or Traveller.

What I like about GLOG

The four-template class blueprint

If PBTA character sheets are streamlined, I don’t even know what I’d call GLOG character sheets.

I don’t know if I’d shave my classes down quite as much, but I’m definitely taking notes from GLOG’s designs.

GLOG spellcasting

This is one of the things I like most about GLOG.

Spell dice to power FTL? Maybe 1 die per 30 light years or whatever, and the sum determines how fast the trip can be made? Doubles and triples can be malfunctions or space pirate attacks or something.

A shit ton of classes

I think I’d like to limit it to 10 or so classes, but I’m definitely going to get inspiration from some of the weirder GLOG classes along with the classes fighters/wizards/rogues.

An emphasis on interesting problem-solving

I think this is more just good game design than GLOG itself.

Encourages taking a weirder spin on fantasy lore that’s often taken for granted

Again, this seems like it’s just good worldbuilding, but a lot of GLOGgish writings do this, and I’d like to follow in their footsteps.

What I like (and dislike) about Traveller

I don’t like how obtuse it is

Reading the book sort of overwhelms me. It’s like they didn’t even try to make it accessible. It’s just endless black text on a white background, tables and diagrams strewn about haphazardly, and no art, not even just at the beginnings and ends of sections. The cover is a black void to symbolize the state of my mind after reading three pages.

When it comes to spaceships, I like a lot of crunch and granularity in their design

Something I found myself wishing for when playing Uncharted Worlds was a more involved ship design process. While they did clearly take notes from Traveller, it’s nothing like the original.

I don’t know what it is about spaceships. Characters I like simple and streamlined, but I guess reading through power plant matrices and choosing software and balancing it all on a budget gets me into the headspace I actually believe a spaceship creator would be in, whereas I don’t think the creation of a person usually involves that sort of design process.

I'm neutral on the crunch for everything else, but I think it's at odds with PBTA sensibilities

Plus, as I sort of mentioned in the PBTA section, I want my mostly 5e-playing friends to be willing to test this with me.

I like the psionics

I really like psionics, and I think Traveller properly captures the feel that I like for them.

However, I’m not a fan of “anyone can test their psionic abilities and then roll to maybe get powers.” I’m going to have a psionic class, which a character can start in if they want to have psionic powers, or they can multiclass into later if they want to discover their psionic potential later on. If they don’t want their character to have latent potential, they can just never take any levels in the class.

I dislike the highly-defined setting

I know it’s supposed to be adaptable to most sci-fi settings, but the books reference their own universe and history so much that it doesn’t really feel that way.

How do I synthesize this all into one game?

Setting-wise, I’m mostly drawing from Spelljammer, as well as Star Wars, Numenera, and my own imagination. I don’t want to define many specific planets or empires or sectors or whatever since I prefer most of the worldbuilding work be done by players during character creation. Also, if you know of any very low-science space fantasy fiction that I should read, please send it my way.

I do have very specific ideas about how I want spaceships and space travel to work, which I think need their own post later. You might get a pretty good sense of what I’m going for from the Spelljammer and Traveller sections, though. My plan is to take advantage of something like Traveller’s very granular and in-depth ship creation to let players make their own completely batshit Spelljammer-style spaceships. I think a ship needs its own character sheet.

I’m doing the PBTA thing where each class has a character sheet. I haven’t decided whether I’m doing the standard 6 stats or making up some weird ones. The former is definitely easier to sell to people but I think the latter is cooler.  Also, since you need a spellcasting class to have FTL what do you do if nobody picks one? I don’t want to get in a situation where I have to tell them “one of you needs to switch classes,” that just feels bad and could create animosity. A solution I’m slightly leaning towards is having only one of each character sheet, then making sure there’s always one fewer non-spellcasting class option than there are players, so by pure mathematics someone will end up able to power the ship, and I don’t need to force anyone to change on my own. The issue there is then I can’t have more than 3-5 non-spellcasting class options depending on party size, and I’d prefer a larger and more varied class pool. Another option would be to have magic hirelings available, but I want spellcasters with the ability to do FTL to feel like these big, weird, and powerful personalities, so having them just available as hirelings sort of it cheapens that in my opinion.  Maybe it’s not actually important that the party always have access to their own interstellar travel? I could see the PCs being like a bunch of interstellar hitchhikers. Very Douglas Adams. 

That’s just about everything that I don’t think needs a separate post. I hope you enjoyed it, and if you have any thoughts about this potential horrible chimera of a system I’d love to hear them! You can reach me here through Tumblr or at Robot_Face#7919 on the OSR discord server.

#Spelljammer #PBTA #GLOG #tabletop #dnd

[hutchhitched]

Too Familiar (Part 8)

Hey, all y’all! After way too long, the next installment of this story is here. Thanks to all of you who are following this story on here or AO3. For those of you reading it on tumblr, the rest of the story can be found here. I love hearing from you, so feel free to send me your thoughts. Part 9 will be out after the end of the @everlarkficexchange​ on April 12.

Trigger warning: mature themes (including infidelity).

___________

  Katniss gulped, and her vision darkened. Peeta’s ex-wife. Peeta’s ex-wife was standing in her doorway, and Katniss reflexively hid her left hand behind her back. She didn’t have a ring, but somehow her bare finger felt like a betrayal to both her and Peeta. All the peace she’d gained from talking to her sister evaporated quickly. She was such a fucking cliché.

 Madge Mellark…

 Katniss gaped at the woman in the hall—blonde, gorgeous, and remarkably composed for someone confronting her ex-husband’s mistress. What the fuck was she doing here? Did Peeta give her the address? Panic spiked in her chest, and she blinked rapidly as she tried to figure out whether to slam the door or run. Both were equally terrible options that sounded infinitely better than talking to the woman whose husband she’d stolen.

 “I can see you’re overjoyed to see me,” Madge said dryly, and Katniss attempted to close her mouth and stop looking like a psychotic fish.

 “I’m… Uh, I don’t— What are you doing here?” Katniss gasped, unable to make her voice more than a ragged mess.

 “I came to talk,” she answered. There was an edge to her voice, but it wasn’t rude. Somehow, that made Katniss feel worse.

 “C-come in. I guess.”

 “How gracious.”

 Katniss winced at the sarcasm in the other woman’s voice, but she couldn’t really blame her. Chagrined, she stepped aside and motioned for Madge to enter her apartment.

 “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?” Katniss could barely speak, and she wanted to down about a fifth of vodka herself. There was no way in hell this was normal. How was she supposed to handle this?

 “I’m fine. I won’t be here long.”

 “Oh.”

 Katniss perched on the chair, ready to spring from it at any second. Madge settled primly on the edge of the couch, seemingly unsure if she wanted to touch anything at all. If Katniss hadn’t been so shocked, she might have been pissed. This woman acted like everything around her was filthy and diseased. The metaphor wasn’t terribly funny.

 “I know this is irregular. I didn’t want to have to come here today. In fact, I didn’t ever want to have to see you again at all, but that’s simply not practical anymore.”

 “Not…practical,” Katniss said slowly, the words dripping off her tongue like molasses.

 “You’re engaged to my ex-husband.”

 “Yes. I am,” she confirmed. That seemed like something steady she could cling to in the midst of this bizarre experience.

 “As you can imagine, I’m not thrilled with how you two— With how—” Madge paused, her striking blue eyes glazing over for the briefest moment. “I’m not here to judge you. I will never understand how you could do what you did, how he could do what he did, but that’s not why I’m here.”

 Katniss studied the woman carefully for a few minutes. Madge was shaking slightly, out of anger or something else, Katniss wasn’t sure. Underneath the composed façade, Peeta’s ex-wife was clearly and understandably upset. She was remarkably beautiful, and Katniss wondered briefly why her fiancé would willingly give up someone so lovely for her who was quiet, introverted, insecure, and detached.

 “Why are you here?”

 Madge sucked in a deep breath and held it for several seconds. She seemed to be warring with herself, and Katniss waited, unwillingly to spark an angry outburst or something worse, like tears. She twisted her fingers and toyed with her left ring finger. There was a thin line that was lighter than the rest of her skin.

 “I just stopped wearing it a few weeks ago,” Madge admitted brokenly. “I thought he’d come back. I really did.”

 Katniss offered awkwardly, “I’m sorry.”

 “I wish I believed that.”

 “I wish you did, too.”

 “How could you?” she whispered. “How could you do what you did?”

 Katniss shrank back. This was too much. This was her own home, and that question was wildly inappropriate, regardless of what had happened between Peeta and her.

 “Don’t answer that. I didn’t come here to ask you that.” A few moments passed during which Madge fought for composure. “You’re going to marry my husband.”

 “Ex-husband,” Katniss snapped, her patience disintegrating quickly.

 “Ex-husband, yes,” Madge corrected quickly. “I’m not saying any of this right. I’m trying so hard not to be angry, but I think you understand the problem.”

 Katniss stood and headed for the door. “I understand, but this is really not okay.”

 “You’re going to be my son’s step-mother!” Katniss stopped and swiveled to face the other woman. Stricken, Madge twisted her hands in her lap. “I love my son. I needed to see you again. To make sure. To know he’ll be in good hands. We met such a long time ago, and it was under very different circumstances.”

 “I remember,” Katniss said quietly.

 “Do you?”

 She did. It was right after she’d been hired at her job, and there was a company picnic for employees and their families. She’d been alone, and Peeta had invited her to join him and his wife. Madge had been friendly enough but just a little bit aloof, and Katniss had known the two wouldn’t ever really be close friends. Peeta’s divided attention between the two women had obviously grated on his wife’s nerves, even though she’d tried to hide it from her husband. Katniss had written it off at the time—after all, she hadn’t been interested in Peeta back then, hadn’t seen him as anything other than a close friend. If she’d only known then what she knew now, she would never have agreed to sit with them that day. Somehow, having met his wife before the affair started made it so much worse.

 She nodded and stared miserably at her hands. “I do.”

 “I knew then that there was something between you. Peeta had never been so obsessed with a co-worker, and you were awkward and unsure. He loves saving people.”

 “He really does,” Katniss agreed softly.

 “He needs to take care of his son.”

 Katniss stared at the woman on the couch and felt ill. As awkward and terrible as Madge’s visit was, the confrontation made sense. At least in some twisted, fractured, insane way, Peeta’s ex-wife was doing her best to protect her family.

 “Well, you’ve seen me again. Met me officially, I guess.”

 Madge swallowed and nodded. “I have.”

 Katniss crossed her arms over her chest and looked at the ceiling. She hesitated, talked herself out of speaking, and then decided she had to say something—even if it was wrong.

 “Look. I know you have no reason to believe me. No reason to think I’m trustworthy or anything other than a terrible person, but I’m going to marry Peeta. I love him. I won’t do anything to hurt him.”

 They stared at each other, gazes locked, appraising and evaluating.

 “So.”

 “So,” Katniss agreed. The implication hung between them.

 I won’t hurt Peeta, and Peeta loves his child. Your son is safe and loved.

 “I think it’s time for you to go.”

 Katniss was impressed with herself for saying it and for not everything else. A few weeks ago, she would have crumbled in this situation. Madge could have flogged her and berated her, and she would have taken it. She would have thought she wasn’t worth Peeta’s love; that she deserved to be tortured for her decisions and indiscretions. Still, those nagging thoughts haunted her. She woke to them every day and fought them in her dreams every night.

 And.

 She loved Peeta. He loved her. They had made their individual and combined commitments to be together, to bring a child into the world, to marry and forge a new family. Maybe she didn’t deserve it, but she was going to take it.

 Madge rose and held her head high as she strode to the door. She paused in the hallway, surveyed Katniss for several seconds, and then turned and walked away. Katniss watched her back until she rounded the corner and then closed the door. The instant it shut, she sank to the floor and tucked her head between her legs. Emotions welled inside her, and Katniss fought through a panic attack, breathing in and out and concentrating on slowing her heart rate.

 When she’d calmed enough that she didn’t feel like she was going to vomit at any second, she placed her palms on her stomach and held them there. She was going to have a baby, and she already loved the child so much it made her insides quiver. Madge’s visit was absolutely absurd, but…Katniss understood the fierce need to protect her child.

 Eventually, she moved to the couch and lay down on the cushions. She stared into space and considered her situation. Peeta had asked her to marry him. They were going to be husband and wife. He’d clearly shared that information with his ex-wife. There was no other logical explanation for why the woman had shown up on Katniss’ doorstep this morning.

 She wanted to text him or call him or something, but she also needed time alone to think, to plan, and to heal. She needed to go to the doctor. They needed a marriage license. Decisions about where they’d live. Meeting their respective families. The afternoon slid by as she plotted and planned. By the time the room darkened in the late afternoon, she was in control.

 “Katniss?”

 She blinked and her head spun as she sat upright. “Hey,” she offered with a weak smile when he entered the room. He leaned down to kiss her, and she grabbed his neck and tugged him down next to her.

 “We need to talk.”

 He kissed her temple and smiled down at her. “Everything okay?”

 “Everything’s fine.”

 “Have a good day? Anything exciting happen?”

 She cuddled into his side and shook her head. “I told Prim.”

 “How’d she take that?”

 “Better than I expected.”

 “I told Madge,” he admitted. “Figured she should know sooner rather than later.”

 “Ah,” she hummed into his skin. There was no way in fuck she was going to tell him what had happened earlier. “How’d she take it?”

 “Not great. Lots of yelling.”

 “That sounds terrible.”

 “It wasn’t the best.”

 “Any regrets?”

 “None,” he chuckled, “and don’t you think the time’s past for that? We’ve been divorced for months.”

 “Hey, Peeta.”

 “Yeah?”

 “I really love you.”

 “I really love you too.”

 They fell into each other, and it felt like coming home.

 “Are you okay? Feeling alright?” he murmured against her neck. “I missed you today.”

 “Missed you too, hon. Made some decisions. I really need your cock inside me now.”

 “Why does that always seem to be the best thing you can say to me?”

 “Because you’re a horny man who loves to dick me up.”

 Peeta groaned enthusiastically and got to work. He stripped her from the waist down and spread her open. She moaned as his fingers stroked her, dipping into her and drawing moisture from her and painting her inner thighs.

 “I thought you said we needed to talk.”

 “After,” she insisted. “I need you first.”

 “Come home with me for Thanksgiving? Meet my parents and brothers?”

 “I love your dirty talk.”

 “I’ll give you multiple orgasms if you say yes.”

 “Yes.”

 “Fuck. No hesitation at all. Sexy as hell,” he grunted and unbuttoned his jeans. “Put your leg over the top of the couch.”

 She lost track of everything at that point. He sank into her with praise on his lips, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming. She was still a little unsteady after the encounter with Madge, but she knew she couldn’t tell Peeta. It was too much for him to take, and the last thing she wanted to do was give his ex-wife any other reason to hate her or threaten another look at visitation rights. She didn’t want a custody battle on her hands. It would break her fiancé. No, the best idea was to let Madge tell him herself if she wanted. Katniss didn’t have to say anything at all.

 It took her several minutes to realize Peeta’s movements were erratic, that he was nearing the brink, and she’d barely paid attention at all. Her leg was bent over his shoulder, and he was rutting into her hard. His eyelashes were tangled in the light, and she raised her hand to trace his cheekbone, so prominent when he was aroused.

 “Peeta,” she breathed.

 His frantic pace stopped. He gained control and opened his eyes to look at her. The blue there melted into pools of adoration from flints of determination.

 “Katniss,” he whispered in return. It took a few awkward seconds, but he pulled her upright and settled her onto his lap. “You are so beautiful.”

 “Enjoy it while it lasts,” she teased and kissed him softly. “I’m gonna be all big and awkward soon enough.”

 He cupped her face and ran his lips across her eyebrows, temple, cheek, jawline, neck, and eventually, slowly, her collarbone, where he sucked a slow, lazy, searing kiss.

 “Your breasts are already fuller,” he murmured while reverent hands traced her body, “and your stomach. So smooth with just a little tiny hint of a bump. That’s our baby, sweetheart.”

 Tears clogged her throat, and she nodded, unable to speak, scared to say anything that would break the spell of them together. She fitted her forehead against his and breathed deeply. She rolled her hips, and he met them with his own. Slowly, reverentially, passionately, they brought each other to completion. They took their time, stretching and reveling in each second, each touch, each blissful moment when it was just the two of them expressing their mutual adoration.

 “I’ll never get over how lucky I am to have met you,” he mumbled into her hair when she slumped against him with ragged breathing.

 She snorted and quickly apologized. “I’m not sure lucky’s the word, babe. We’ve fought hard for this. We made terrible, painful decisions to be together.”

 “And I’d choose them every time to be with you.”

 She smiled gently and pushed back to survey him. Hair wrecked, t-shirt rucked up, and a satiated look on this face made him look like he was about 15 years younger than he was. If they’d met then instead, back when he was still single, before he’d married Madge, Katniss wondered how differently their relationship would have developed. Would they have been best friends first? Would he have asked her out right away?

 Her stomach growled, and she smiled at his bemused expression. “I kind of forgot to eat today,” she admitted, and he scrambled into action.

 “Get dressed. Do you have anything to cook, or do I need to run out for something? You’re pregnant, Kat. You can’t just not eat.” He looked so earnest and just a tiny bit scared that she wanted to wrap herself in him and stay safely ensconced in his arms forever.

 “Can we get Chinese food?”

 He nodded and grabbed his phone. “Cashew chicken? Pork fried rice?”

 “Yeah, and eggrolls. Oh, and get some pot stickers, too.”

 “Fried or boiled?”

 “Oh hell, can we get both? I’m starving.”

 He looked at her fiercely and pointed to the bedroom. “Go change into something comfortable. Something warm, please. You’re cold. I see goosebumps. Then we’re having that conversation you wanted before you decided to seduce me.”

 “Seduce you?” she protested. “I was just saying hello to my fiancé after a long day apart.”

 “Seduction,” he argued and twirled his finger at her. “That was all you. Warm clothes. Now.”

 She arched her back and stretched, just to show him she’d take her time, thank you very much—and maybe a little bit to make her breasts more prominent and to display the moisture in the curls between her legs from their earlier activities. He glared at her and shook his head.

 “Don’t even try that with me,” he insisted. “Now, go. I’m ordering food.”

 She pretended to grumble as she slunk down the hallway, but she was grinning too hard to make it believable. Despite the shock of Madge’s morning visit, Katniss felt more in control of her life than she had in a very long time. They would eat soon, and they would talk about the things they’d avoided for far too long.

 After a quick rinse in the shower and a few minutes taking care of business, she went back to the living room and tucked into her corner of the couch. He turned sideways to face her and nodded, indicating he was ready to listen.

 “I had a lot of time to think today,” she began. “I think I needed that. Can I ask you a really honest question?”

 “Of course.”

 “What makes me worth this to you?” He started to protest, and she cut him off before he could. “This is not an insecurity thing, Peeta. Just please answer.”

 He inhaled deeply and held it a while. Then, he answered carefully, “I knew from the second I met you that you’d be my Achilles heel. There’s something so genuinely special about you that I knew the instant I saw you. You’re kind and thoughtful. You care about other people. You’re fierce when you need to be but would rather take a backseat and let someone else’s potential shine. You worry about being good and doing the right thing, and that means a lot to me. You fought for me by staying away, but you also saved me by letting me have you.”

 His fingers linked with hers, and she watched his throat bob and constrict. “Go on,” she urged.

 “You were so lonely. I could see it in a way no one else seemed to want to acknowledge, and it broke my heart. So many things haven’t worked out for you, but you didn’t complain. You just kept going and kept caring for everyone else and accepting that you didn’t need or deserve all the love and care and attention you shower on others. And you not knowing how I felt about you, how much you changed my life, was evidence that everything I’m saying is true. You didn’t expect anything, and that’s why I couldn’t help but want to give you the whole world.”

 “I remember the first time we really talked,” she laughed. “Remember that? At that first work party?”

 “Yeah. We used to have a lot of parties,” he said, a fond smile gracing his lips. “That was just a few weeks before the picnic where…”

 She ignored his insinuation and kept talking. She wanted to get this out while she could still talk coherently.

 “You were the most gorgeous creature I’d ever seen, with those deep blue eyes and ashy blonde curls and wide shoulders and lean waist. I didn’t think you were real, and I had this desperation inside me when you looked at me. You weren’t wearing a wedding ring, and I hoped for a few minutes… I hoped that meant you were available.”

 “I can’t remember why I didn’t have it on that day.”

 “Doesn’t matter, really, I guess, but we talked for a few minutes and you mentioned your wife. I was heartbroken, but I put you away into the friend category then and never intended to take you out of it.”

 “I was trying to set up boundaries,” he explained. “I knew I was in trouble from that first conversation, and I thought telling you about Madge would stop anything from happening. You’re the strong one, and I thought I’d be okay if I put the onus on you to keep it platonic. I should have been the one to take the burden.”

 “Maybe,” she acknowledged, “but I think we both dealt with it in the best way we knew how.”

 “So, poorly, you mean.”

 She chuckled and twisted her hand to caress his palm. “I need to go to the doctor, start taking care of this baby the way I should be.”

 “I’ll go with you.”

 “And I want to marry you soon,” she insisted. “I don’t want a wedding or a big party or a fuss. I’ve never needed anything but you, so please don’t fight me. We need to tell Haymitch at work, and I’m hoping we can take a day off work together next week and go down to the courthouse and make this official.”

 “Katniss—”

 “That’s what I want, Peeta.”

 A war played out on his face before he finally relented. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

 “I think we should get a different place. Not your studio and not this apartment. Too many memories of us sneaking around together here. Someplace that’s ours, not a place to come play with your mistress.”

 “Okay.”

 “And this is the last time I’m going to apologize, but I am sorry, Peeta. I love you, and I love this baby we’ve made together. I cannot tell you enough how much I want to be your wife, to be Mrs. Peeta Mellark, to share the rest of my life with you and make a home and raise a family together. I want all of those things with you and a billion more.”

 “I want that, too.”

 “And— This is important. And I’m sorry for hurting you and not fighting for you earlier and not staying away and letting your marriage work. I’m sorry for making things difficult and being insecure and doubting you. I’m sorry for what’s going to come when we get backlash for what we did. I will face it with you, and I’m not going to apologize any more. Not for this. Not for finding my soulmate and accepting that we belong together.”

 Tears tracked down his cheeks, and she realized hers were wet, too. He tried to speak several times and couldn’t, and she waited patiently while he put himself back together.

 “I love you so much, baby,” he sobbed. “I’m so sorry you didn’t get the fairytale. You deserve to have something easy and wonderful. I’m sorry you’ve been burned.”

 “I chose you. I’m choosing you again right now.”

 “Playing with fire. We’ve been playing with fire the entire time.”

 She forced his eyes to hers and stated resolutely, “I’d rather get burned than freeze to death without you.”

  He hiccupped, and his shoulders shook with wry laughter. “That sounds about right. Like I said, you’re the strong one. All the fire, and I’m…”

 “You are a good, good man, Peeta. You are. You tried, and you screwed up. You messed up a million times, but you’ve beaten yourself up for it enough. I know the guilt eats you up inside, but I’m marrying you, and I need you to forgive yourself. And I need you to forgive me. Otherwise, our marriage is doomed. If you had to hurt your wife and child for us to have this chance, then don’t hurt the second ones because you feel guilty about the first.”

 Silence fell between them as they faced each other, fingers together, lives intertwined. She observed the way his shoulders fell and then straightened, the resolute clench in his jaw, the surety in his eyes when he finally spoke.

 “I’ve always wanted to get married on a Thursday.”

 “Well, buckle up because I have nothing planned that day.”

 He grinned and pulled out his phone. “Let me just put that in my calendar. Hmm… Thursday, November 21. Sounds like a good day to take a wife.”

 The food arrived a few minutes after they solidified their plans, and then life shifted into frantic mode for the next few days. They asked her sister for an OBGYN reference and made an appointment, at which the doctor confirmed they were approximately ten weeks pregnant. They met with Haymitch at work on Monday and explained the situation, asking for time off on Thursday to get married and dealt with PR issues in the office. She asked Annie to be her witness, and Finnick agreed to be Peeta’s best man. She found a dress at a second-hand store and bought a ring to put on her fiancé’s finger.

 Thursday arrived with another bout of morning sickness and nerves. Katniss put mascara remover on her forehead instead of her eyes and washed her hair with conditioner twice before realizing it wasn’t clean at all. She finally managed to get dressed, brush her teeth for the third time after being sick twice, and find her phone before it was time to meet Peeta at the courthouse.

 The marriage ceremony was uneventful. It took all of five minutes, and Annie and Finnick were the only two people there who knew them. Katniss had made a calculated decision not to tell Prim until after it was done, and Peeta couldn’t exactly ask Madge to bring their son. Katniss still hadn’t told Peeta about his ex-wife’s visit, and she hoped Madge would keep it quiet too. She didn’t want to have to explain why she’d been less than forthcoming.

 The newly married couple spent their wedding night at Peeta’s studio, which he’d packed except for the bed. He planned to stay at her place until they found a home that was theirs, but they needed time for that. Since Katniss had agreed to go home with him for Thanksgiving, she figured they’d look once they got back from Virginia and she met the rest of the Mellarks.

 They made love and talked and dozed throughout the night, too wound up to do much beyond catching sleep in intermittent bursts. At eleven weeks, her breasts were larger and much more tender than normal, and she was constantly exhausted in a way she hadn’t been since she’d contracted mononucleosis in undergrad. She didn’t have enough energy for really innovative sex, but Peeta didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he spent most of the night pleasuring her until she was a melted puddle of want, clinging to him and begging him to make her come.

 “Thank you for seeing the real me and still wanting me,” she breathed after he’d brought her to orgasm for the millionth time in a very short time period.

 His mouth found hers, and she groaned at the taste of her on his lips. His tongue, which had been burrowed inside her only moments before, plundered her mouth and stroked and massaged her lips until she lost the ability to speak.

 “You’re worth everything I’ve been through, Katniss. Thank you for marrying me. For becoming my wife.”

 “Wife…” she whispered, unbelieving that he was actually—legally—hers after the sordid affair, hiding how they felt, and sneaking around for so long. She clung to him until she finally managed, “And you’re my husband.”

 His eyes sparkled with emotion, and he nodded. “Forever.”

 Are you ever going to be able to trust him? echoed in her brain, but she pushed it aside. She’d made her choice, and she was done apologizing.

 Returning to work on Monday was harder than she imagined. She was exhausted still, and she didn’t want to be there for the shortened work week when it was so close to the holiday and meeting Peeta’s family for the first time. She was so far beyond nervous she assumed what she was feeling was something akin to petrified, and the morning sickness hadn’t let up at all. The last thing she wanted was for Johanna to say something that would set her off, but there was no way her new golden band wouldn’t be a topic of conversation as soon as she walked into the office.

 Johanna didn’t disappoint. She wolf-whistled as Katniss sat at her desk and rolled her chair closer to get a look at the ring.

 “No diamond? I thought Peeta’d want to decorate you right away,” her co-worker snarked.

 Katniss didn’t respond; instead, she booted up her computer and opened files she needed to be able to help the children who deserved protection from the cruelties of the world. She opened a package of saltines and placed them on the desk next to her and put a straw in her ginger ale.

 “Jo,” Annie’s quiet voice said, “leave her alone. She’s been through enough.”

 “I bet Madge doesn’t think so.”

 Katniss saw red and glared at her co-worker. “Madge isn’t his wife anymore. I am. I know the way it happened doesn’t meet with your approval, but it’s really none of your fucking business. Now, shut up, or I’m asking Haymitch to move my desk away from your bitchy attitude. I have work to do.”

 The rest of the morning passed in blessed silence. Johanna clearly didn’t want their boss to reprimand her, so she kept her disapproval of Katniss to herself. Annie sank into her own world, and Katniss worked steadily through the folders until Peeta popped by to see if she wanted to go to lunch. It wasn’t until she was back in the office at the tail end of the lunch hour that she realized she and Johanna were alone together.

 “I had an affair,” Johanna said softly, and Katniss snapped her eyes up. “I was in love with someone. He was married. He said he’d leave his wife. He didn’t.”

 Katniss doesn’t know what to say, so she only offers, “Oh.”

 “His name was Brutus. I should have known better than to believe him, but I fell hard. We got outed by one of his wife’s friends who caught us together, and it was ugly,” she explained. “I guess I’m a little jealous your situation worked out when mine didn’t. That Peeta was worth it when Brutus wasn’t. I wasn’t his only other distraction, you see. He was cheating on his wife with a hell of a lot more people than me.”

 “I’m sorry to hear that,” Katniss blurted, unable to bear the pain in her co-worker’s voice, “but you can’t possibly believe that our relationship—mine and Peeta’s—has been smooth sailing.”

 “Maybe not, but the end result is the same. You married the man you love. I found out mine was a jackass who never cared about me at all.” Johanna surveyed her quietly for a while before ordering, “Don’t screw it up, or all you’ve done is break up two families.”

 Katniss flushed and tugged at the bottom of her sweater. She didn’t want to know if Johanna suspected her pregnancy, but it wouldn’t surprise her if she did. She was wan and drawn in a way she’d never been before, and the rushed wedding must have pricked some suspicions in a few people. It was with great relief when Johanna said goodbye to Annie at the end of the day with the pronouncement that she wouldn’t be back until after the holiday. Katniss looked forward to using the peace and quiet the next day before they flew out to Peeta’s hometown for Thanksgiving.

 “I think maybe we should consider seeing your family over the holiday, too,” Peeta announced as they tried to pack in between rounds of sex. Every time Katniss pushed him away, he reminded her with sweet kisses and insistent hands that they were newlyweds of only a few days. Her new husband was disgustingly persistent, and she only pretended to mind when he managed to get her naked and on her knees on the bed surrounded by a partially packed suitcase and neatly folded stacks of clothes.

 “You can’t spring that on me, and then make me forget you said it,” she groaned after she collapsed into the piles of clothes that were no longer clean, let alone folded. He kissed the nape of her neck and ran his fingers through the moisture between her legs. She shivered when he trailed his wet fingers up her torso and circled her nipples until they glistened.

 “I can if we do actually spend the entire holiday with my family and then yours,” he mumbled while sucking hard on the hollow behind her ear.

 “Why’s that?”

 “Because we probably won’t be having a lot of hot sex if we stay with them.”

 “Oh god,” she gasped. “I’ve changed my mind. We should stay here and in bed the entire time.”

 “Sweetheart,” he said firmly, “it’s time. Do you really want to wait until Christmas to do this? Because I thought maybe we’d spend that holiday by ourselves.”

 “We can always go at Easter.”

 “Not really. Third trimester.”

 “Shit. Fine. Yeah, we can drive over and see my family, then. Now, get the hell off me. I need to repack everything.”

 “You do not,” he insisted and licked her nipples clean. “If fact, what I really think you need to do is sit on my face.”

 “Well, if you insist.”

 She was exhausted and sick in the morning again, but Peeta held her hair and rubbed her back until she felt better. He made her toast and carried their suitcases as they went to work. At the end of the day, she’d be on a plane to Virginia to meet Peeta’s mother, who had loved Madge and screamed at Peeta when he told her they were getting divorced. The hours both dragged and sped by, and she met Peeta by the elevator so they could leave for the airport.

 “Mrs. Mellark, I am so ready to spend our first holiday together.”

 “My mother will be happy to hear that,” Katniss teased and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Because that’s the only Mrs. Mellark I know.”

 “Sweetheart, Mrs. Mellark is my mother, not yours.”

 She laughed when she realized he was right. She was so tired, and she wondered briefly if his arms around her were the only reason she hadn’t stumbled and fallen.

 “So chivalrous,” she mumbled against his cheek. “The Everdeen women love that.”

 “So, what you’re saying is that I’ll charm your mom?” Peeta murmured and ducked his head to glance his lips across her neck.

 Katniss closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax in his arms. She felt an insatiable stab of lust as he pressed his body against hers. “You could charm anyone, hon. Those lips of yours. That silver tongue. Good god, you turn me on so much…”

 “Yeah? Mmmm.”

 She turned in his arms and sought his mouth with hers. His tongue traced her bottom lip when they suddenly came to a jarring halt.

 “What was that?” she gasped and winced at the sound of grinding gears. “Why’d we stop?”

 “I’m not sure.”

 Peeta grasped her hand quickly before moving to the controls and punching the button for the building’s lobby. Nothing happened, and he glanced at her with a worried look etched on his handsome face.

 “Are we stuck?” She fought the first vestiges of panic and peered around his shoulder. “Is there a call button?”

 “I don’t know, sweetie. Hold on a second.”

 She took a few breaths, but she couldn’t get any air in her lungs. The walls seemed to be closing in on them, and she gripped the railing in a desperate attempt to stay calm. She hadn’t told him about her struggles with claustrophobia. Somehow it hadn’t come up in the context of all the other problems they faced.

 “We can’t be stuck. We have a flight to catch. Thanksgiving with our families. This is the first time I’m meeting your mother. You’re meeting mine. Peeta, we can’t be stuck!”

 She shook as she screeched the last few words. This couldn’t be happening. Not when their relationship was just starting to feel like a real one instead of a horrific series of bad choices and mistakes. Not when she was finally able to start building the life she’d yearned to have for years.

 “Hey,” he said gently. “I’m right here. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

 Tears pricked her eyes, and her chest heaved a few times before she was able to speak. His look of concern only made her feel worse. How could she explain how much hope she’d pinned to their last-minute holiday plans? How could she admit she dreamed of a warm reception from his parents so she could finally feel like she’s a legitimate partner in her husband’s life? They were married and expecting a baby, and none of their family even knew.

 “I’m fine,” she insisted with a shake of her shoulders. “Where’s the call button?”

 “It’s right here. It’s right here, Katniss,” he soothed and gripped her shoulders and rubbed them.

 “Call it,” she yelped. “Call it!”

 Peeta stared at her as she spiraled. She’d freaked out around him before, but usually the cause for her panic was him and their relationship. She didn’t like feeling out of control. She didn’t like that she couldn’t get out of this box. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t—

 The elevator shuddered and started moving again, and she sucked in a deep breath. She moaned and swallowed so hard her throat hurt. Wide-eyed, she watched the numbers tick down to one and staggered out the open doors as soon as the ding sounded.

 “Katniss?” Peeta’s voice came from behind her, and she frantically scrubbed the tears from her face and worked to slow her breathing.

 “I’m claustrophobic,” she finally huffed. His hands squeezed her shoulders, and his eyes searched her face. “I— It hadn’t come up yet.”

 He held her close for several seconds and kissed her forehead. Reluctantly, he asked, “Are you okay? Because we really need to go. Traffic’s going to be terrible, and our flight—”

 She nodded, shaky and unsteady, but she knew he was right. Making the flight was going to be tight even without the elevator issue. She could get it together in the cab and on the plane. Never mind that she was heading into two family situations that scared her as much or more than anything else she’d faced in her life.

 She trembled all the way to the airport, and they rushed through security and to the gate just in time to make it on board. She waited impatiently until the “fasten seatbelts” light clicked off, and then she made a beeline for the bathroom. She wasn’t that far along yet, but the baby had already made very good friends with her bladder. She needed to go really badly. When she returned to her seat, Peeta took her hand and threaded his fingers through hers.

 “You okay?” he asked, his face a mask of concern. She nodded and tucked her head into his shoulder. “You ready to talk about it yet?”

 Shaking her head, she rubbed her thumb back and forth across the back of his hand. Mercifully, he didn’t push. Instead, he settled his head and hers and hummed softly to her. The music worked its way through her, relaxing her bit by bit. Eventually, she joined him, her mezzo voice blending with his until sleep overtook her.

 She jerked awake when the plane landed. The peace she’d found while in the air evaporated as they walked hand in hand down the jetway and to the baggage carousel.

 “We shouldn’t have checked anything. Carryon only from now on,” she said with a smile as they watched the conveyor belt turn without bringing any bags to the passengers.

 “Or we could always go naked wherever we go.”

 “That sounds like such a better plan,” she sighed. “And you had to bring that up now that we’re here and won’t have privacy for almost a week. I’ll shrivel up and die without you.”

 He grinned at her and hugged her to his side. “You will not.”

 “Uh huh.”

 He leaned down to kiss her, and she opened her mouth under his. His mouth was filthy on hers, and she felt his want down to her toes. She was just getting ready to suggest they find somewhere for a quickie when he broke away and tensed.

 “What’s wrong?” He glanced down at her quickly and then past her to something she couldn’t see.

 “Hi, Mom,” he said tentatively.

 Katniss whirled to meet his mother. She plastered a smile on her face but froze when she saw the glacier cold look in the woman’s eyes.

 “Hello, Peeta. My divorced son, and his mistress. How lovely. Bringing the homewrecker with you to the family gathering. I have so much to be thankful for this holiday.”

 “What did you say?” Peeta asked. His ashen face registered shock and fury.

 “I said that I’m so glad you brought your lover home with you. Nothing like an extra-marital affair to make the holidays cheery.”

 “Peeta!”

 A huge voice boomed around them, and Peeta relaxed an infinitesimal amount. “Hi, Dad.”

 “Hi, son. And who do we have here?” Mr. Mellark asked as he looked at Katniss.

 “His mistress.”

 “No,” Peeta said firmly, “not my mistress. My wife.”

#too familiar #everlark #everlark fanfiction #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen

[jingabitch]

An Arrangement for Convenience ch.8

Summary: It's ridiculous that girl groups aren't allowed to date, and are kept under such strict lock and key that they can't satisfy their desires. Enter Ha-eun, YG's solution to the problem.

Pairings: ot4 x oc

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving) | sex work | rimming | slight D/s | phone sex | mentions of sweat kink

A/N: Wrote this a while back and posted on ao3; reposting here because I want to be more active on this platform. While I currently have 8 chapters written which I will be releasing on Tumblr gradually, I am currently on hiatus due to school and work commitments and will not be actively writing and posting new stuff until the semester ends in December.

It was a slow couple of weeks after that. The girls were travelling for various events, and Ha-eun had a breather. It was a good thing too, because she had a bunch of tests and papers due soon, so she appreciated the extra time to study. She also found a bunch of healthy recipes to try, so that she could expand her repertoire, because she loved her brother, but if she had to listen to him whine about eating the same shit one more time, she might just kick his ass back to Daegu.

Somehow, she found herself missing the girls, though. They texted her once in a while, sending pictures and interesting anecdotes to the group chat, and each time her phone buzzed she found her heart leaping into her throat in anticipation.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

It appeared that the girls were feeling the absence too, although that was to be expected, with the way Ha-eun’s fingers and tongue had been at their beck and call pretty much 24/7 while they were in Seoul. Jennie had even wanted to bring Ha-eun along with them when they were travelling for work, but both Ha-eun and management had vetoed that idea.

The girls had sulked for days after that, until Ha-eun pointed out that she had school, and it wasn’t like she could just jet off for weeks at a time whenever she felt like it.

Equally pertinent, but not mentioned, was the fact that she had to be in Seoul to take care of her brother, who was, after all, the reason why she was in this contract to begin with.

Still, it had taken the promise of phone sex and regular pictures for them to cheer up again. A promise that Ha-eun regretted making almost instantly, because it wasn’t exactly like she had privacy to make naughty phone calls, given how thin the walls were in her apartment.

Nevertheless, a promise is a promise, and at least given the time difference, Ha-eun would likely be waking up at six in the morning to help get her clients off. Not that she really minded - they made such pretty sounds for her, after all, it was difficult to resent.

Grinning in satisfaction at the picture she’d just snapped, Ha-eun sent it off to the group chat. In it, she was licking off a vibrator that was still glistening with her juices, and she’d captioned it: Unnie, you taste way better. Miss you :(

The response was instantaneous.

Jennie: excuse you!!!

Jennie: I’m at the Chanel show!!!

Jennie: How could u do this to me!!!11!!!

Ha-eun: ;) hurry back soon

Chaeyoung and Lisa sent a pouty selfie of the two of them, making Ha-eun smile before she locked her phone and went to bed.

Jennie, however, was distracted for the rest of the day and opted out of the dinner party, instead returning to her hotel room for a room service dinner. After placing the order, she called Ha-eun, completely forgetting that because of the time difference, Ha-eun was fast asleep.

To her credit, Ha-eun managed to pick up the call before it went to voicemail, and slurred groggily, “‘lo?”

“Ha-eun-ah, fuck,” Jennie groaned down the line, clearly having gotten started already.

“Jennie-unnie? What time is it?” Ha-eun mumbled as she peered down at her phone screen. “Unnie, it’s like three am here, aren’t you supposed to be at the dinner party?”

“I was supposed to be,” Jennie hissed, “but you should have thought about that before sending me that picture while I was in public , you fucking tease.”

Now that her brain was back online, Ha-eun giggled as she sat up, reclining against her pillows. “Sorry, unnie, time difference and all that. I was just so horny thinking about eating your pretty pussy that I couldn’t help it,” she explained, her voice getting a little whiny at the end.

“Fuck, you’re such a slut, aren’t you?” Jennie said a little breathlessly, one hand in her panties massaging her clit.

“Just for Blackpink, unnie,” Ha-eun confessed, closing her eyes as she tipped her head back, her hand sliding down her body. She bit her lip as she splayed her fingers on her belly, wanting to draw this out a little.

“Yes, that’s right, such a dirty whore.” Jennie slid her middle finger down from her clit to tease around her pussy, wishing she’d had the foresight to pack her vibrator. After being so used to having Ha-eun around to answer her booty calls, she’d almost forgotten about its existence.

Smirking, Ha-eun took the phone from her ear and snapped a picture of her fingers creeping into her panties, sending it to Jennie. When the older girl saw the photo, she swore as she set the call to speaker mode so she could continue staring at it while she spoke to Ha-eun. “Fuck, you’re such a dirty tease, I should punish you when I get home.”

“Really?” Ha-eun asked, and in hindsight, maybe she should have toned down on the enthusiasm a little, but it wasn’t her fault she was becoming a little pain slut for Jennie. The older girl had a hell of a hand.

“You like that, don’t you, my dirty whore?”

“Mm, yes, mistress, I miss you so much, I miss your tasty cunt and your punishments,” Ha-eun whimpered.

“ Fuck, yes ,” Jennie hissed. “You’re going to get the spanking of your life when I get back for being such a bad girl, you filthy slut. Getting me so horny while I’m alone in Paris, how dare you be so rude to your mistress?”

Ha-eun writhed on her fingers helplessly, pressing the heel of her palm into her clit for the friction she so desperately needed. “I’m sorry, mistress,” she groaned. “I wish you were here, I want to eat you out so bad -”

“Yeah?” Jennie breathed, intrigued, and Ha-eun knew she had her. “Tell me more about how you would eat me out, slut.”

Ha-eun licked her lips and arched her hips into her hand. “I’d start slow, just the way you like it, mistress. Nice, slow strokes up from your pussy to your clit, until you’re dripping on my tongue, you taste so good when you’re turned on, God -” She was starting to lose the plot, and Jennie had to redirect her attention back to the task at hand.

“Mm, my pussy’s so wet right now thinking about your tongue, baby girl, I’m dripping all over my fingers,” she purred. “If you were here, I’d make you lick them clean,” she teased.

“God, yes, your pussy tastes so good, I want you to smother me with it ,” Ha-eun heaved, filth spilling from her lips as she became unbearably aroused.

“Yeah?” Jennie’s hand was working faster now, as she drew closer to her orgasm.

“Yeah, mistress, sit on my face and rub your pussy on my tongue, make a mess, fuck, please ,” she mewled.

“What if I don’t want you to eat my pussy, baby girl? My cunt is a delicacy, you know? You should earn it properly. It’s the most expensive thing you’ve eaten in your life, probably.”

Ha-eun sobbed. “I’ll do anything to earn it, please, mistress.”

“You should start with something a little less ambitious, don’t you think?”

“Mm, fuck, I’ll do anything, I’ll eat your ass first, is that what you want to hear?” Ha-eun threw out in desperation, so deep into subspace now that the idea of being denied access to Jennie’s pussy was making her lose all sense of reason.

“Such a clever girl,” Jennie crooned, the praise making Ha-eun preen in the darkness of her bedroom.

“Mistress, you only need to ask, I’d love to eat your asshole, it’s so pretty,” Ha-eun cooed. “I think about it all the time, you know? You sitting that pretty ass on my face, right on my tongue. That’s a really nice position, actually. While I’m licking your asshole you could rub your clit on my nose, and everything would be you ,” Ha-eun said slightly dreamily, her eyes fluttering shut as the image took hold in her mind. “I’d let you use my face as a chair for hours , I love your ass so much, I’d worship it for the rest of my life if you let me.”

Ha-eun’s words were flipping switches Jennie hadn’t even known existed, her core rhythmically tightening around her fingers as she imagined the very scenario that Ha-eun was describing. God, the younger girl was just so indescribably nasty , waxing on about her asshole.

“Fuck, yes, I’d smother you with it, make you come to the studios after dance practice and lick my sweaty ass. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’re so fucking dirty, I can’t believe you, Jesus -” her words trailed off into a series of moans and grunts as she came.

Her filthy imagery pitched Ha-eun headlong into her own orgasm, and she keened as she rubbed her clit through it, enjoying the erotic sounds that Jennie was making on the other side of the line.

When it was finally over, she blew out a breath as she removed her hand from her pussy, grabbing a tissue from the bedside table to clean it off. “You good, unnie?” she checked in because no one could accuse her of not being conscientious about her clients’ wellbeing.

“Yeah,” Jennie said, panting, as she slumped back into the pillows, blinking up at the dimmed lights of the hotel room. “That was great, thank you, Ha-eun-ah.”

Ha-eun giggled. “It was my pleasure… literally,” she teased. “Have a good rest, okay?” she said, getting ready to hang up and go back to sleep.

“Ha-eun-ah, wait,” Jennie called right before she could end the call.

“Yeah?”

“Um, about what I said earlier…”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, unnie. It was hot and all, but I get it if you aren’t into it in real life -” Ha-eun rushed to reassure the older girl.

“No, actually, it’s the opposite,” Jennie confessed in a small voice, waiting to hear what Ha-eun would say.

“Oh,” Ha-eun responded as the gears in her head turned frantically. “Well, that’s okay too.”

“It is?”

“Yeah, we can talk about it more when you get back, but I’m not opposed to any of what you said earlier,” Ha-eun said with a girlish giggle. “It’s quite the opposite, actually.”

“Oh… you never mentioned being into any of that.”

Ha-eun laughed at that, unable to help herself. “Yeah, you’re the client, remember? What I’m into is secondary here.”

“Oh… right.” If anything, that just made Jennie sound more hesitant.

“What’s wrong, unnie?”

“I just… don’t want to force you into anything, y’know? You’ll tell me if it’s too much, right?”

Ha-eun’s heart squeezed helplessly. “Yeah, I will, but don’t worry about it. You aren’t anywhere near to too much. And for what it’s worth?”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t just cum my brains out on the phone with you because I’m not into it, okay? You can definitely tell me about any other kinks you might be curious to try out. I’ve probably heard it all before, anyway.”

Jennie smiled at that. “Sounds like you have some interesting stories to tell.”

“If only you know,” Ha-eun tried to say lightly, though the effect was ruined by the jaw-cracking yawn she couldn’t stifle.

Laughing a little, Jennie teased, “Someone’s a little tired.”

Ha-eun settled back into her pillows, smiling like a fool in the dark. “Yeah, someone woke me up at three in the morning for phone sex because she was so unbearably horny.”

“Oh, shit, that’s right.” For the first time, Jennie realised that given the time difference, it was an ungodly hour back in Seoul. “I’m sorry, sweetie.” She sounded genuinely contrite, and Ha-eun laughed fondly.

“It’s okay, unnie. I’ll just consider it a testament to my amazing photo-taking skills that I made you lose all reason,” Ha-eun teased.

“Yeah, you do that,” Jennie acquiesced, burying her face in her pillow. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay. Good night, unnie.” The way Ha-eun was slurring her words slightly let Jennie know that she was all but asleep, and she couldn’t help the fond smile stealing over her face.

“Good night, sweetie.”

#blackpink smut #bpsmut #blackpink #kim jennie #kim jisoo #lisa manoban #park chaeyoung #jennie x oc #jisoo x oc #lisa x oc #rose x oc #aafc #an arrangement for convenience

[viogsquad]

jealous - david dobrik

authors note; tried to upload this just and tumblr wouldn’t let me so lets try again! feedback is appreciated so please send it in. also had to use some smut that i wrote for another fandom cause wow my mind went blank for this one. word count; 2.4k. warnings; dom!david, hint of sub!david, oral.

You knew that you should have been focused on the video that David was playing for you but your concentration was focused on something else, David completely aware of what you were thinking after being together for so long. It was something so straightforward, just the way his hands clicked on the keys as he wrote out his title, the skilled hands that edited the video with such ease after doing YouTube for so long. You were completely gone and it was all because of something so simple.

“Are you even watching the video or are you just going to keep staring at my hands?” David asked, eyes shifting to look over at you. Your heart raced at the thought of being noticed, your dirty thoughts clearer than you had expected. “Tell me what happened in the video,” David teased, knowing full well that you wouldn’t be able to give him a clear answer.

You shrugged your shoulders and looked to the side in an attempt to avoid his gaze. “Jason pretended to be Natalie - “

“That was the last vlog but nice try,” David interrupted, smirk spread across his face as he returned his attention to the laptop. “And just remember that you are still being punished, twenty-four hours to go.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at David before grabbing hold of your phone, twitter seemingly more entertaining than the silence that filled the room as David double checked for any editing mistakes that might be there unnoticed. You couldn’t focus on anything else though, just sinful thoughts about your boyfriend and how he turned you into a mess whenever the two of you were alone together.

It had been nearly a week on pure teasing, coquettish text messages sent whenever he was out filming, playful hands under the table during dinners and he was driving you crazy. You regretted flirting with Jeff jokingly for Jason’s vlogs, your punishment put into place as soon as the video had been uploaded and David had seen the clip, twitter going wild as they made up false rumours that did nothing but anger David.

Your mind went back to the last time you were together - his hands pressed against the skin of your neck, teasing you and making you think of all the times you had been against the wall in the same position, all of them full of sin and impurity. The feeling of his hard cock pressed into your thighs as he whispered filth in your ear, going over every punishment you would receive when the two of you were alone and the podcast was finished. You could remember every touch of that night, the bruises left on your skin a friendly reminder every time you sat down.

You were desperate for his fingers and to feel his cold rings pressed against your skin. Work had been taking over his life, his popularity increasing by the day and interviews with big companies coming out of nowhere. By the time he got home after a long day of filming, his first thought was getting some sleep and cuddling up with the woman that he loved so he could be fully refreshed for the next day where another day of filming would happen.

All you had thought about during a dinner with your friends were David’s fingers pounding in and out of you as he made conversation with his friends over the table, so calm and collected yet completely aware of the thoughts that you were having. Your hand was in his as you attempted to drag it to your thigh, David giving you a quick smirk before removing himself from your grip - he knew exactly what he was doing. All you had got over dinner was some teasing, his hand only returning to your thigh when you were making conversation with Corinna. People took note of your silence and the look in your eyes, glazed over and sexually frustrated which somehow you managed to get out of, the excuse that you didn’t feel good coming in handy.

David felt like a teenage all over again when he received those texts from you, mentally thanking Jason and Natalie for leaving him alone in the car while they nipped into target. You were alone in your shared bedroom, the words written out in the text almost convincing David to leave his friends stranded so he could drive back home and have you pinned to the mattress like you wanted. Photos of your dressed in his favourite lingerie came through afterwards, different poses that showed off your delicate curves mixed in with most explicit photos of your naked body that was on show for him.

Then there were the times when you would be alone in bed and you would picture how pretty David’s hands would look when they tied to the headboard, the marks that would be along his wrists from the rope and his attempt at escaping. He looked most beautiful when he was laid on the bed and begging to cum, tears in his eyes as he watched you use his thigh to get yourself off.

“I need you,” you whispered once you had come back to reality, your phone thrown to the side of your body as you faced David.

“Busy and remember - “

“I’m still being punished,” you cut off, your words mocking and face twisted into a frown. “Doesn’t change the fact that it’s been nearly a week since you fucked me.”

Your eyes widened at David’s sudden movements, his hand wrapped around your throat with no pressure as he looked you dead in the eyes, showing you that he didn’t care for the bratty behaviour that you were performing. “Don’t wind me up,” he muttered, voice low and his tone portraying how tired he was. “Suck my cock and I might just give you something in return.”

“Yeah?” You smiled, tongue flicking out to lick your lips as you leaned over and pressed a kiss to the corner of David’s mouth.

Nothing else needed to be said, your body sinking to the floor and in between David’s legs as you looked up at him. The laptop he was working on placed to the side of his body as he moved his body to lower his joggers and boxers. The nerves that were in your stomach was soon replaced with lust as David signalled for you to do the rest, his desire for your mouth stronger than he was willing to give on. He had missed you completely - your mouth, your touch, just everything.

“Such a good girl,” he whispered, hands wrapping around your hair where he tugged gently and signalled for you to hurry up, fully aware that he would soon be bombarded with tweets about where the vlog was.

David was warm in your mouth and heavy against your tongue as you struggled to take all of his girth. His moans were sinfully sweet as he helped you move up and down his cock by the grip in your now messed up hair, curls slowly tangling together and his grip was so tight that you worried for the headache that would come with his release. You knew that you were in for an immoral night, a week without each other’s touch being poured into one session but you were soaked at the thought of it and all you could picture was being pressed into the bed sheets as you sang David’s name until the sun rose in Los Angeles.

The whimpers and whines coming from David’s pretty mouth should have caused concern that you would get caught in the act, Natalie only down the hallway and even though you weren't going to stop, you didn’t want to traumatise the poor girl even more than she already was from living with the two of you. With David’s mind and body weakening with every passing moment though, all you could think about was bringing him to the place that he desired the most so you could get your own release.

David’s dominance changed form completely as he neared his ends, too rough to keep his grip on your hair and his hands instead flattened against the white sofa as he slightly thrusted his hips upwards, your throat constricting as he forced the tip of his cock to meet your gag reflex. David gave you permission to do your own thing for a while as you struggled to recover from the fucking you had received, your breathing uneven and all over the place as you moved your hand along his cock. His words were like heaven in your ear as he praised you wholly, words boosting your confidence with every passing second.

With darkened lips and saliva dripping down your chin, you flicked your tongue out and licking along your bottom lip as you attempted to tease David. His face was emotionless though when you looked up at him, entirely unimpressed with your sudden attempt at teasing him and failed attempt at switching the rules. David would let you have your fun in the bedroom, the ropes already planted under the bed where you would continue to relieve him of his stress.

The emotionless expression that weirdly suited his face was soon replaced with pleasure though when you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, continuing a few times until he was whimpering above you all over again, desperate to feel your warm and wet mouth around his length. Cheeks were hallowed as you bobbed up and down without stopping, keen to get David to his peak so you could remember the taste of him and the way he looked down as he came down from his high for the next time, he punished you.

“Come up here and give us a kiss,” David moaned, leaning down to grab you by the shoulders when your hands continued to move up and down his length, not willing to give up. “I said get up here, you’ll get a taste later.”

Looking up at David was fake innocence, small hand still wrapped around his cock as you made him promise. His mouth was slightly open and eyes half-closed as he nodded once before gulping, pulling you up so you were stood in front of him.

He looked so beautiful as you glanced down at him, a sheet of sweat glistening on his forehead, cheeks a rosy red and chest heaving up and down as his hands wandered up your thighs and under the oversized t-shirt you had thrown on after you had been in the shower.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered, leaning forward to kiss your thighs. “Need you so bad.”

“Have me then.”

With one quick movement that had you gasping out loud, David had picked you up and was dragging you down so you were laid across the sofa. Your underwear was pulled down your legs and thrown onto the floor before David’s hands were gripping your thighs and pulling them apart so you were fully exposed for him. The slight pain from his fingers digging in subsided as you grabbed David by the shirt he was still wearing and finally felt his mouth on yours, his breath warm as it mingled with yours and stole all your breath away all over again. You tugged on his brown locks and pulled him closer, one hand moving up to settle on your cheek as put a week's worth of missing kisses into one.

His hands gripped your thighs once again as he dragged you back against the cosy sofa, your legs wrapping around his waist. Touches up your thigh had you mewling and begging for more, words you kept for him spoken as you begged and pleaded with David to either give you his mouth or his cock.

“Going to fuck you with my cock before anything else, girl,” he said, silencing your desperate pleads with a few simple words and turning your body into a wanting mess.

David had twisted you around so you were on your hands and knees, his hands burning your skin with every touch as he brought you into the correct position that he knew would have you screaming out and waking up the neighbours, along with poor Natalie.

David’s hips snapping against your ass had you screaming out, his breath hot against your ear as he leaned over your body and whispered filth in your ear, reminding you of what was to come once he had managed to upload the vlog. The words he spoke would be repeated in your head when you were alone with nothing but your fingers and the thought of David.

“Always take my cock so well, don’t you?” David praised, his head buried into your neck where left kisses and marks that you would struggle to cover up the next day - it would make decent vlog footage for everybody else. “My girl, yeah? Mine.”

David wrapped one hand around your throat as he dragged you up, your back pressed against his chest. His thrusts are not soft or passionate, that would be in the morning when he praised you for being such a good girl the night before, instead they were rough and full of desperation. His thrusts relentless, words broken up as whimpers slip from his mouth and the noise contrasts perfectly to the filth that spills out of him when he speaks.

The anger from your flirting with Jeff finally came out to play as David bent you back over, his fingers sure to leave bruises on your skin from where he was holding you still to stop you flying forward with every thrust of his hips. You moaned David’s name like a prayer with every thrust, your lines blurred as you looked down at the sofa and allowed pleasure to take over your body.

David’s thrusts got harsher as he brought himself and you closer to the brink, the two of you finally getting what you had been craving. Stopping for a quick moment, David pulled out and twisted your body around so you were laid on your back, your skin glistening under the living room light and your hair a mess as it spread out across the sofa

David’s head moved to your neck as he thrusts resumed, his teeth sinking into your skin whenever it felt particularly good. “I love you,” David whispered, his mouth against yours. “I love you so much.”

You breathed out heavily as you placed both of your hands-on David’s face, moving his head so he was looking at you directly. His thrusts didn’t stop but he was sure his heart did when he looked at you properly, an absolute angel in David’s eyes.

“And I love you.”

#david dobrik smut #david dobrik imagine #david dobrik #vlog squad smut

[rorykillmore]

okay this is. well. a LATE birthday fic for my friend jemi, who does not have a personal tumblr atm, but i’m sticking it here because this is where i file all my fics at this point, and because it’s also a tiny bit of a partial co-present for @xivuuarath too! 

jemi, one of the things i’ve loved most about this past year is getting the chance to write with you again and develop these new and wonderful and crazy cross-fandom dynamics just the way we used to. it’ll always mean a lot to me to be able to write with you, and i really hope i’ve done everyone in this fic justice because i cannot tell you what a DELIGHT forming this disaster of a group dynamic/eventual found family with you and storm has been!!! i can’t wait to develop them more together, but for now, this particular fic is set a little ways in the hypothetical future once they’ve all gotten to know each other a little more, and after villanelle has had... SOME kind of similar encounter with her family to the one she just had in canon. tldr: her mom sucks, she’s dead now, and villanelle ran off after burning her house down.

anyway, yeah, ENJOY!

They all look like idiots, and normally, Villanelle would delete any photo that made her look like an idiot without a second thought. But there is something kind of nice about it this time.

Villanelle supposes that maybe it’s a little unfair to blame Konstantin for the fact that her birth family turned out to be shit.

(Okay, not all of them were shit, but it is easier to pretend that they were and not that the few days she spent with them were the happiest she’s ever been in her whole life.)

Anyway, while it’s not technically his fault, he is the one who told her they were alive, and the last thing she wants right now is to go back and tell him exactly how catastrophically things did not work out.  He is no longer her handler anyway. She has to report back to Knock Out.

(Actually, she has not been on a mission recently, she has nothing to report, and Knock Out would probably not even notice if she didn’t contact him for several more days, but... Villanelle will just make up a reason to talk to him, then. He doesn’t have to know she’s wasting his time just because he makes her feel a little better.)

So she’s surprised when she texts him (or his comm frequency, however it works with Cybertronians) and gets a message back that he’s already waiting for her at Mistoffelees’.

That’s how Villanelle thinks of the house, absurdly, as belonging to Mistoffelees and Victoria -- namely because by know she knows them much better than she knows their people. Somehow, amidst the chaos of the past several days, Villanelle had entirely forgotten she’d agreed to cat-sit again (less for any pragmatic reason this time and more because she hadn’t had anything better to do, before the issue of her family had cropped up) starting this evening. She’d also forgotten that they’d all planned another marathon session of Kitchen Nightmares, and for some reason... all of this rattles her.

For some reason, when she arrives and walks up the driveway and finds Knock Out parked waiting for her, and Misto and Tugger settled side by side on the fence, she gets a strange little lump in her throat that she can’t explain.

“Finally,” Tugger complains the minute he sees her. “If any of us actually had thumbs, we may well have considered starting without you.”

“Excuse me,” Knock Out is quick to protest. “Just because it’s not exactly strategic for me to transform in the middle of a human neighborhood doesn’t mean you get to lump me in with you furballs.”

Mistoffelees rolls his eyes in an unnervingly human gesture that Villanelle is only just starting to get used to.  “I’m sure he meant ‘if any of us actually had thumbs that we could conveniently use without causing hysteria in this precise moment.’ Didn’t you, Tug?”

“Sure, darling,” Tugger says, not sounding very sincere at all.

Villanelle comes to a slow halt beside Knock Out’s alt mode, trying to bask in their familiar banter, trying to make it feel just the same as her family’s home-y sense of chaos did. It doesn’t quite work. But it does make her want... something.

“We should take a road trip!” Villanelle announces suddenly, entirely out of nowhere and without thinking about it.  Mistoffelees and Tugger turn nonplussed looks on her, and she can practically feel Knock Out figuratively side-eyeing her, and for a second she worries that they’ve noticed something’s wrong. 

But the silence only lasts for a beat before Knock Out scoffs,  “What, now? And where, exactly, were you thinking of going?”

Villanelle shrugs, undeterred by their skepticism.  “Anywhere. We could just... drive.”

“In that?” Tugger stares wide-eyed into Knock Out’s windows, and then very quickly clears his throat.  “Sorry. In him?”

“We could bring Victoria too,” Villanelle says, appealing to Misto. “Is she home?”

Mistoffelees flicks an ear uncertainly.  “She’s out at the junkyard this evening. And anyway, Villanelle, we can’t exactly up and disappear without giving the others cause for alarm --”

“So go tell them! We can wait here.  It would only be for, like, a couple of days, and your humans will not even notice since they’re not due back ‘til next week.”

“Not to agree with Tugger, but I’m still stuck at the part where I have to lug them around and get cat fur all over my interior,” Knock Out quips, rather casually considering the chaos unfolding around him. “...Not to mention, we don’t exactly have clearance for this.”

“We don’t have an assignment either,” Villanelle points out. “Do they really care what we do in our own time?”

Knock Out seems too surprised to answer, maybe because this is the first time outside their missions and their little casual reality television get-togethers that Villanelle has ever expressed such an interest in spending time together.

The cats are almost as baffled. Tugger and Misto exchange a look that Villanelle can’t quite read, before Mistoffelees settles his attention back on her.  “This is all a bit... sudden,” he starts, and it’s the fact that he sounds almost gentle that makes something in Villanelle prickle up again. Is her behavior so erratic and concerning that she’s making them feel sorry for her?

“Fine,” she cuts in, changing tracks suddenly.  “Fine! Never mind. I will take one on my own. See you all in a couple of days --”

“Er, hold on.” Knock Out recovers enough to stop her. “If you’re going to do this anyway, I might as well tag along and see that you don’t do anything careless. Otherwise I’ll have nothing to do but drive around London while you go off and have all the fun.”

Villanelle stops in her tracks.  “Do you want me to be careful, or do you want me to have fun?”

“...Is that supposed to be a trick question?”

She shrugs, still recovering her pride and wondering if she should brush him off just on principle because of it. Deep down, though, Villanelle doesn’t want to, and so instead she looks back at the cats where they’re still settled together on the fence.

On the fence. Heh. Like a metaphor.

“I think you two could use the vacation,” she tells them casually.  “Have you ever actually been on a honeymoon?”

“A what?” Mistoffelees asks as Tugger sweeps his feathery tail around him. Villanelle has started to get used to the easy affection they share between them, but it hasn’t yet ceased to give her a pang of something indecipherable each time.

“A honeymoon,” she says.  “It is something two people do when they get m -- when they love each other and want to be together forever. They go off and take a trip and kind of... celebrate their relationship.”

Tugger tilts his head ever so slightly to one side.  “And is it customary for them to bring their friends along?”

Villanelle glances at Knock Out, but if he knows anything about this particular Earth custom, he stays silent for once.  So she shrugs.  “Sure. That way it is like a party, you know?”

“I daresay neither of us do.”  Mistoffelees turns so he can meet his mate’s gaze.  Villanelle expect Tugger to have a very decisive opinion on all of this, and to state it very loudly, because that’s just how Tugger is.  So it surprises her when instead, he returns Mistoffelee’s look quietly - almost gently - and waits for his verdict.

“Is it really only going to be for a couple of days?” Mistoffelees asks cautiously at length.  Villanelle grins despite herself.

--

It is roughly a five hour drive between London and Paris, which is a bit of a pain in the ass when the taking the train shaves about half of that off, but for once Villanelle is trying to be objective about how she is probably the least inconvenienced person in this situation. The only reason Misto and Tugger aren’t stuffed in the trunk right now is because she offered to buy them cat carriers to travel in instead, and when the cats vetoed that option, she’d reluctantly promised Knock Out that she’d be the one vacuuming his back seat instead.

Even with that compromise made, though, five hours is a long time to spend in a car with someone. Especially a sentient car. They’ve already gone through the motions of arguing about the radio - a pointless endeavor, given that Knock Out is the one who controls it - and then Villanelle had tried to teach them how to play a couple of road trip games ( “Fuck, Marry, Kill” had gone the most disastrously).

Finally, Mistoffelees asks, “Was it really necessary to come so far for this... other city you described? I don’t see how it can be all that much different from London.”

He sounds almost uncomfortable, and for the first time Villanelle wonders whether he or Tugger have ever been this far from home before -- they are cats, even if they are special ones.

“Paris is nothing like London,” Villanelle insists, though she knows that alone might not mean much to him.  “-- It is the most beautiful city in the world. And if you’re in love, you have to go at least once.”

“I never figured you for the sentimental type,” Knock Out quips dryly.

"Maybe she means if you’re in love with yourself,” Misto offers.  “I suppose that describes at least three out of four of us, so --”

He breaks off at Tugger’s feigned indignant gasp and even-more-feigned swat, laughing, and Villanelle gives both of them a pointed look through the rearview mirror.

They are just made for Paris, these two. Later, they’re going to have to admit that she was right.

Knock Out sighs audibly, distracting her from her thoughts.  “You know. You really do owe me for this.”

--

Even Knock Out can’t find too much to complain about once they reach the city proper, though. Villanelle beams smugly when he admits that there’s a certain classiness about it all “as far as cities on this mudball go”, and he rolls his windows down a little so that Misto and Tugger can better appreciate the scents and sounds.

“It’s not home,” Tugger drawls, enjoying the way the wind buffets the mane of fur around his neck.  “But it’s not half bad.”

It’s home to Villanelle, though, or -- the closest thing she’s ever had to one, besides the one she just burnt to ashes. She takes them past the street where her old apartment used to be, just for nostalgia’s sake.

“The only thing about Paris is, it’s really more of a walking city,”  Villanelle tells them at length.  “Hey Knock Out -- you don’t have some kind of boat mode, do you?”

“A boat?” Knock Out echoes scathingly.  “What exactly do you take me for?”

“Okay, so, the river tour is out. But I can show you around even better from here. Just follow my lead.”

Mistoffelees leans languidly against Tugger as they share the open window, and sighs.  “What could possibly go wrong.”

To Villanelle’s credit, she does give a hell of a tour, taking them past the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre and the Arc de Triomphe. Then they make a stop at the Pont Neuf bridge, where Villanelle positions the very bemused cats on the railing so that she can take their picture against the backdrop of the Seine.

“I can’t say I really understand the purpose of this,” Misto says for about the third time, then flattens his ears when Villanelle shushes him.

“I told you! It is easier to show you than tell you -- here, look.” She approaches to show them the image on her phone, ignoring the peculiar looks she gets from one or two passersby.  Tugger is the first to lean forward with skeptical curiosity, and then --

“-- It’s us.” His eyes go wide, and Villanelle watches his reaction with a smug sort of delight.  “Oh, that actually is marvelous.”

“I knew you would enjoy any excuse to look at yourself,” Villanelle quips in return, though in truth, it is a very nice picture if she does say so herself. Misto and Tugger look especially handsome in the photo -- you know, for cats. The sun brings streaks of vivid color out in Tugger’s fur, while Misto’s black and white pelt looks particularly glossy. They sit side by side, their sides touching, and Villanelle had captured just the right moment to preserve the glance they’d exchanged as she took the picture: Misto looking up at Tugger in "can-you-believe-what’s-happening” exasperation, and Tugger returning his gaze with something that read between amusement and the inevitable fondness he always seemed to regard the other cat with.

It’s very... them, Villanelle decides.

“It’s...” Mistoffelees seems almost uncharacteristically at a loss for words.  “...It’s like you froze a moment in time.”

Villanelle shrugs agreeably.  “Humans kind of collect them. I can get this printed, and then you can have your own physical copy, if... that is something you want?” She isn’t sure whether cats have any particular use for photos, but Tugger and Mistoffelees seem to like the idea.

“Seems a shame to waste such a handsome keepsake,” Tugger says, his eyes glinting. Misto smiles - in that very un-catlike way the Jellicles have - and looks up at Villanelle directly.

“Thank you.”

She tilts her head and almost responds, but then can’t think of anything good or clever to say. So instead, she turns to where Knock Out is still parked, the impatience practically simmering off him.

“Knock Out! Let me get one of you.”

“I don’t do autographs, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“Don’t be so boring, God. Actually, we can all get in it! I will get someone to take it for us.”

It is probably only Villanelle’s perfect French that saves her from looking like a completely batshit tourist as she herds the cats over to him and needles one very confused local into taking a picture of the four of them together. Instead, she just looks like... well, a batshit French person obsessed with taking photos of herself, her two cats, and her sports car. Which is fine with her, really.

The photo turns out nice, too. Not quite as romantic as the first -- actually, it looks pretty silly. Tugger, taking advantage of Knock Out’s inability to protest while in public company, had leaped up onto his hood and sprawled out like some kind of feline model, which had made Villanelle throw her head back and cackle while in the midst of trying to scoop a begrudging Mistoffelees up into her arms. 

They all look like idiots, and normally, Villanelle would delete any photo that made her look like an idiot without a second thought. But there is something kind of nice about it this time. 

She takes them to the Luxembourg Gardens, too, where an artist asks if she can paint Mistoffelees (leaving Villanelle, Tugger, and Knock Out all quite individually offended evidently not to be considered the prettiest of the group), and then to the fish market where she figures the cats will be in heaven (shockingly, Tugger decides that Parisian food isn’t beneath him, though Misto is partial to the vanilla ice cream Villanelle buys him later).

By then, it’s getting close to nightfall, and Villanelle checks the time and then the listing on her phone. “Okay. Just one more stop. You will all like this one, I promise.”

“I think we’ve all learned by now not to trust your promises,” Mistoffelees retorts, but it’s goodnatured, a mild protest by his standards. Tugger even joins in making fun of his grumbling this time, and Knock Out has spent the last twenty minutes idly looking into things near the city he might want to do “for reconnaissance purposes” the next day, so Villanelle suspects that - not so secretly - they are all enjoying themselves.

--

The last stop is at a little park just beyond the city, where an overlook affords them a view of the Parisian lights in all their glory.  Misto and Tugger stop to enjoy it together for a little while, while Villanelle urges Knock Out to continue on up the road a little ways to find parking at...

“A drive-in theater.” Knock Out realizes, surprise lacing his tone.

Villanelle slips out the passengers side door to stretch her legs, but also to inform him:  “Drive-in is a loose term. I rented out the entire space for us tonight. I figured if we had a bit of privacy, you wouldn’t have to be stuck as a car all night.”

“I --”  Knock Out starts, then seems to register what she actually said.  Villanelle waits through the pause patiently.  “...I happen to be gorgeous in vehicle mode. As anyone with optics could tell you.”

“Yes,” Villanelle agrees, because she’s already learned how to butter him up, “But you make an even prettier robot.”

Knock Out tilts his mirror at her. His version of a side-eye, and code for I know exactly what you’re doing but I’m still flattered. “Well. I suppose this was... shockingly thoughtful of you.”  He transforms once Villanelle takes another step back, and then crouches down to eye her suspiciously. “Uncharacteristically, one might even say.”

But Villanelle has no real ulterior motives, this time.  She is just happy they all came with her to her favorite city in the world for no other reason than because she asked. Instead of saying that aloud, though, she redirects her attention to the overlook, where Tugger and Misto’s silhouettes are visible.  “Do you think they are enjoying their honeymoon?”

“How would I know?” Knock Out flippantly tilts his head to consider the pair. Misto tucks himself against Tugger’s side, and Tugger wraps his tail around the tom’s smaller frame as if they’ve done this thousands of times before. They look so... still. So content, in a way Villanelle isn’t used to imagining them. “I’m not an expert on the mushy stuff.”

“Really? You don’t have anyone?”

“I...” That actually gets Knock Out to hesitate, his expression unreadable. “...Think it’s inappropriate to divulge that kind of information between agent and handler.”

Villanelle nods ruefully. Konstantin had always been smart enough to avoid talking about his personal life with her, too. “I have someone,” she announces quietly, the status of the actual having be damned. “I might tell you about her someday. But --”  And before Knock Out can react to that, she shifts her attention back to the cats again. “I think they really love each other.”

“That seems like a safe assumption,” Knock Out quips dryly.  “Why do you even care?”

Why does she care? Envy? Her usual fascination with other people’s emotions, the ones that are always just out of reach for her? Neither of those feel right, but Villanelle doesn’t know the name for what is.

It just... feels better, knowing that Mistoffelees and Tugger have each other. It makes something in her calm strangely when she thinks of them.

She just shrugs again, in the end. And then the cats are getting up and coming back around to meet them, and Villanelle shoos away whatever she was feeling or pondering feeling and gives them an elegant smirk.  “Finally decided to join us, lovebirds?”

Tugger smirks right back up at her. “Personally, I would have been quite happy to spend the rest of my night watching the city lights, but Mistoffelees here seemed to feel that would have been terribly discourteous of us both.”

“It is your honeymoon,” Villanelle points out, because despite her teasing she wouldn’t really have minded. Her and Knock Out have a movie they could have entertained themselves with, after all.

“Yes,” Misto agrees lightly. “And I don’t think it’ll be one we’ll ever forget. Especially if you’ve chosen a decent... movie for us.”

“Please, Mistoffelees,” Villanelle mimics Tugger using his full name, because she enjoys the way it rolls off her tongue and she knows her accent makes it sound a little funny. “Surely you trust my taste by now.”

“Not unconditionally.” 

“It’s French,” Villanelle promises them as she goes to turn on the screen.  “-Ish. And romantic. You will watch it, and be grateful that your lives are not anywhere near as terrible as this couple’s are!”

“Moulin Rouge?” Knock Out asks in confusion as the title screen pops up.  “I’m not sure I understand the need for dramatics. It all ends happily enough, doesn’t it?”

Villanelle stares back at him wordlessly, one eyebrow raised.

“...It... I may have caught Starscream watching it once. And I’m positive they get back together safely at the end.”

“Do not spoil it for the cats!” Villanelle tries not to sound too gleeful at this newly collected potential blackmail on the Decepticon second-in-command. She sits down in the grass by Knock Out’s feet, and Tugger settles in beside her with Misto at his side, and Villanelle spends a moment reflecting that it would be really fun to teach them some of these songs.

She wonders if cats can technically sing?

#fic #i know we talked about them meeting eve and i was INCREDIBLY tempted but this was already getting really long #ill do it in another fic. i swear. #also: not sure what to do with the information that starscream turns off moulin rouge 10 minutes early? me neither #also feat. villanelle starting to get soft for these idiots which is Important.

[neilfoxsten]

oh man, do u want a big post with lots of feelings cause here is ONE

Tl;dr I've been on this website for 10 years, I'm more in love with my partner than I've ever been and it was terrifying, relieving and grounding to know I'm ok, we'll all most be ok, it is ok.

I, in my half a wine bottle slightly edged state, decided to go back to page one of my tumblr. I've been on this hellsite for 10 years. One whole decade, 2010 people. Had a fun time laughing at the first 50 pages or so but then it got real because about 6 months in, I broke up with my first ever real boyfriend (and long term of 2ish years, when you're 15-17 that's a long ass time), in part because I met Alex. My current, going on 9 years, this is for life partner.

But we were 17. It was hard and I remember it, but I also remember being so relieved? Anyway I started reading all the vague-posts I made at the time (also 17 year olds are horny as fuck someone should've had a spray bottle on me at all times like, no, down.)

And I can see myself falling for alex in them and arguing with myself in my posts (remember, when we used this as an actual blogging platform and posted how we felt and what we were doing, interspersed with gifs of hot men and weed? Ten years yo.) and I remember being like 'noooo you wanted to be single and have fun and last summer before uni, 18 woooo', but I was completely and utterly besotted with him.

And i imagine no one who read them original posts of our illicit teenage trysts will ever read this one, because this website is dead af and way way different to how it was a decade ago, but I want to send 2011 me a message and say like

Girl. It's nearly 9 years later. He's currently upstairs in bed asleep (cause he's up early for work tomorrow and you're not) with your cat. Yeah. It's going on 9 years and guess what, this little thirsty crush is the best thing in the world, and he drives you mental because he never texts back, he snores really loudly at like 3am and wakes you up, and you just went and tried to kiss him on the head because you feel all these feelings right now and he grunts and shoves you off because he's a weird angry sleep goblin. And my heart is about to burst with how happy that makes me.

I hope at the end of this decade that this weird corner of the internet is somehow preserved and I can come and find this post- and all my original posts- and feel this feeling again because it's hard to put into words (see incoherent rambling above) because I'll be basically nearly 40 (yikes) and who knows where we'll be, but it will be fun to pretend I'm 17, or 27 again and I have no way to end this stream of thought, I had so many ideas when I lay down to write this but now I'm lost but happy,

Happy 2020 love you if u read this bye xox

[thisdiscontentedwinter]

Bad Blood - Chapter 30

You can read it on AO3 or find the Tumblr Chapter Index here. 

______________

The loft is covered in blood. There are more dead bodies in it than in a sophomoric slasher movie. Peter would really, really like a cold drink right now. The cans of Mountain Dew in the refrigerator are calling him. He wants sugar and bubbles and something to wash the taste of blood out of his mouth, yet he can’t bring himself to move just yet.  

He and Derek and Laura are sitting on the couch. They’re dressed in fresh clothes—explaining bloody bullet holes in their old ones, with no corresponding wounds on their bodies, would be difficult. Plus, this way, it’s easier to play the part of the slightly bewildered innocent citizens who somehow got caught up in all this mess.

Peter feels the slightly bewildered part is the truth, at least.

“Amateurs, I guess,” John Stilinski is saying with some authority to his deputies. “Must have got all that fancy tough-guy gear off Amazon or something, and thought they were Rambo. They couldn’t shoot for shit, and they obviously didn’t know what the hell they were doing with explosives if they blew themselves up like that.”

Lies, all lies, but he tells them so convincingly. His heartbeat barely stutters.

There are no bloody clothes in the loft. There are no crates of weapons. The remaining infrared tripwires were disabled long before the police arrived. All of that gear is currently in the back of Deaton’s ‘Beacon Hills Animal Clinic’ van, being driven away from the scene.

“Yeah,” John continues. “I was just coming over to pick Stiles up after work. You haven’t met Stiles, have you, Parrish? He’s been living with his grandparents overseas for a while.” He rubs a hand across his face and sighs. “Well, I’m sorry he had to be here for this, but, then again, if I hadn’t turned up, who knows what would have happened?”

God. The man deserved a fucking Oscar, but Peter guesses he’ll be happy enough to walk away with his job.

“It’s some business deal that went wrong, I gather,” John says, and looks over to Peter.

Peter nods. “Yes. The Argents are arms dealers. It’s all perfectly legal. I approached Chris Argent about setting up a new business together, using his name and my capital, and I guess Gerard didn’t take it well. I mean, Chris said the old man could be intractable and that he wouldn’t be very happy about it, but nobody was expecting anything like this.”

His shudder isn’t all feigned.

They got lucky tonight. Very fucking lucky.

It could have gone wrong so easily. It very nearly did.

The moment that Stiles shot his father—

Peter shudders again.

Stiles and Allison are sitting together in one of the armchairs, wedged in like small children. Their hands and faces are clean, but their clothes are still splattered with blood.

A business deal gone wrong is a solid explanation for Gerard’s attack on both Chris, and the Hales. They just have to get Chris up to speed before he’s interviewed by the police. Luckily for them—not so luckily for Chris, probably—he hasn’t been in any fit condition to be officially spoken to yet.

Parrish is young and earnest-faced. He turns to Stiles and Allison. “You want to tell me what happened in the car?”

“I stabbed him,” Allison says woodenly. “With an arrow. In the eye. That’s when we crashed.”

She looks like she wants to be sick.

“I, um… I shot the other guy,” Stiles says. “He was going to shoot us.”

“Also they were kidnapping us!” Allison exclaims.

“Yeah,” Stiles says. “They were kidnapping us.”

“It was a good shot,” Parrish says, and there’s not a question there, but there’s something expectant in his tone nonetheless. Parrish isn’t stupid.  

Stiles wrinkles his nose and looks even younger than his sixteen years. “I play a lot of first person shooters.” He pulls his mouth down at the corners. “I don’t think I will anymore though.”

Parrish nods, sympathy creeping into his expression.

That acting gene clearly runs strongly in the Stilinski line. It sure as hell didn’t skip a generation here, did it?

“I don’t even know what the protocol is here, Sheriff,” Parrish says at last. “You can’t investigate it though.”

“Obviously not,” John says. “Listen, you take your initial statements, and call in Detective Garcia. She’s the next ranking highest officer under me. And I’ll be taking administrative leave until this is all resolved.”

Parrish nods.

“But in the meantime,” John continues, “I’m going to take my son and Allison back to my place, because they’ve been through a hell of a traumatic experience tonight.” He looks to Peter. “Peter, do you want to come too? The forensics guys and the photographers won’t be done for hours yet, and you sure as hell shouldn’t have to stay here tonight.”

Peter recognises a lifeline when he’s thrown one.

“Yes,” he says. “We’d appreciate that.”

They could stay in a hotel he supposes, but he knows he’s not the only one who wants to be somewhere more familiar. And John’s house has become familiar to them recently. It feels safe, like a pack den.

They head upstairs to pack overnight bags, dodging deputies and crime scene photographers. At least Peter’s bedroom is unscathed and Laura’s only has a broken window. Derek’s is a fucking bloodbath, complete with a plastic-covered dead body on the floor.

That’s going to take a lot of scrubbing with bleach.

The whole loft is.

Peter’s almost sorry it didn’t explode.

***

The kids fall asleep on mattresses on John Stilinski’s living room floor, even Laura. Peter tugs a blanket up over her in the darkness. There will be plenty of time for her to be the alpha again tomorrow, but Peter is always the left hand. He wanders back to the kitchen and checks the time on the microwave. It’s past midnight. Too late to call Matty. He sends a text to Satomi instead, asking her to let him know first thing in the morning that they’re all okay, and he’s sorry he missed his nightly phone call.

The hunters, he tells Satomi, are taken care of for now.

Because what was this except the opening salvo of a war?

She texts back almost immediately to tell him that she’ll pass that on to Matty, and that when he’s ready to tell her what happened, she’ll take his call.

He appreciates that she doesn’t push.

John is sitting at the kitchen table. There’s no beer in front of him tonight though.

“Okay?” Peter asks, sitting down opposite him.

“For now,” John says.

“Do you think your story will hold?”

“I think so,” John says. “Crazier things have happened.” His mouth twists and he shrugs. “Possibly.”

Peter allows himself a faint smile.

“It’s the hunters’ council we need to focus on next,” John says, and he sounds all business. “But Victoria is head of the Argent family now, and she fucking owes me. She owes you too, for keeping Allison safe. If she speaks for you, and with Araya Calavera at least willing to listen, then maybe—”

“Stop,” Peter says, and holds up a hand. “Stop, please.”

John raises his eyebrows.

“Just for one night, let’s not. I’m tired, John. I’m so fucking tired.”

John’s gaze is full of understanding. He stands up, and offers Peter his hand. “Come on then,” he says, and leads him upstairs to bed.

***

Peter sleeps.

That’s all he does.

It feels like he hasn’t slept in months, if not years, but somehow, with John’s solid heartbeat beside him, he sleeps.

And he doesn’t wake again until the sun is already well and truly up, and John’s bastard neighbor decides that 11 a.m. is a good time to mow his lawn.

***

Alan Deaton turns up to the house at midday, and asks to speak with Laura and Peter.

“Anything we have to discuss, I’m happy to discuss in front of Allison and Sheriff Stilinski,” Laura says.

She doesn’t even look to Peter for approval, and he smiles at that. She’s finding her feet today. He’s proud of her, and knows Talia would be too.

“I’m going back to Mexico,” Deaton says. “To speak to Araya Calavera, to make sure no other hunters come here in an attempt to avenge Gerard Argent.”

Allison lifts her chin at that. “Why would they? I killed him.”

Deaton looks slightly taken aback for a moment.

“He broke the Code,” Allison says. “He broke the Code when he killed Scott McCall for no reason, and I killed him.”

Oh, Peter likes Allison. She’s as steely as any other Argent through and through but she’s untainted by their bigotry.

“Well that does put a different spin on things,” Deaton says thoughtfully.

Peter glances at John, and sees the way he’s watching Allison.

Maybe John was wrong. Maybe Victoria won’t be the head of the Argent family after all. God knows she’s got a hell of a candidate in Allison.

***

Peter won’t say that the rest of the day is smooth sailing. When Victoria arrives in the afternoon to collect Allison, he has to hold John back from punching her.

“My daughter was as much a hostage as your son,” Victoria says.

“You still got to raise her!” John yells.

Stiles scuttles upstairs when he hears that, his scent sour with sudden panic.

“John,” Peter says firmly, a hand on John’s chest. “John, leave it. Go and talk to your son.”

John glowers at him, but eventually nods and follows Stiles up the stairs.

“Janusz takes order from you now, does he?” Victoria asks. “A wolf?”

Peter lifts his lip and growls.

“Stop it, Mom!” Allison snaps. “You don’t get to judge anyone here! You and Dad stood by while Kate and Gerard hurt Stiles.”

Victoria’s expression is pinched. “We did it for you, Allison.”

“Well maybe you should have done something for Stiles too!”

Victoria’s cold façade cracks a fraction. “There was nothing we could do!”

“You can do something now!” Allison yells back. “You can tell the hunters’ council to leave the Hales alone! You can tell them to leave Stiles and the sheriff alone! You can tell them not to send anyone here!”

“Yes,” Victoria says. “Yes, we can do that.”

The fight drains out of Allison, and leaves her looking uncertain and slightly brittle, as though she thought it would be much harder than that to convince her mother. She can’t smell the guilt rolling off Victoria in stinking waves the way that Peter can.

He doesn’t pity Victoria—and she’s not looking for pity—but he does understand her.

Peter knows what it’s like to be backed into a corner.

“Victoria,” he says. “How’s Chris?”

Victoria looks at him warily. “Doing better. He’s off his ventilator today.”

“Good,” Peter says. “Then let’s talk about our official story. Things will be so much smoother for everyone if we’re all on the same page.”

Victoria stares at him for a long moment, and then nods. “Let’s do that.”

#bad blood #my fics #discontentedwinter #sterek #steter senior

[acrobaticcatfeline]

Logan and His Little Bumble Bee (Single Dads AU) Chapter 4!!!

Word Count: 3643

TW: swearing, deceit, vague mentions of vague trauma, arguments, crying, unconscious projecting, one quick mention of homophobia, roman is a big nervous a lot lmk if I missed anything!!!

Notes: This was out way sooner than I expected. So I made this one revolving around Roman and Dmitri for once, because we don’t get that much and now he has thoughts and things to say!!! Anyways it starts a bit angsty but its really soft and fluffy and I love my baby gays. It’s dialogue heavy this time around, it’s almost as if my writing changes subconsciously depending on which character I am writing. Huh. I hope you enjoy it, I worked my butt off for it. Previous chapter here, first chapter here!

Summary: “you are 15 years old! Absolutely not!!!” Logan is having trouble letting Roman be himself, projecting his own bad experiences on him without realizing it. Roman and Dmitri kiss a lot because they’re really soft and really gay.

“you are 15 years old! Absolutely not!!!”

“dad people in my grade have been dating since they were 10 come on!”

“and they're irresponsible and don’t know better! Roman it is not a good idea-”

“Logan dear be rational; kids are supposed to-”

“NO!”

Everyone paused as Logan screamed. Roman had flinched and Logan winced knowing he caused it, but he couldn’t just stop at this point.

“Roman, dating this young is a bad idea, take it from me. I mean that was when I got together with mercy-”

“you can’t say that like it’s the biggest mistake you’ve made dad!!! Because… because if it was then I would have-I know it ended badly with you and her, but you were still happy at the time! You can’t just keep me from experiencing things because you're scared dad. I'm not you. I-I need to live my own life eventually, and if I don’t know how to then what am I gonna do when I'm an adult?”

“you don’t- Roman that isn't necessary to be happy, I mean look at me and Patton-”

“well maybe I don’t want to pine for someone for 9 years!!! Maybe, maybe I want to live my life now, instead of waiting in fear!!! Maybe I want my happily ever after before I settle down, maybe, for once, I want to live my life without worrying that I'm a disappointment to my parents!!! I know you don’t mean to but you just, you make everything so hard! You-you have so much, so much hope. That I'm going to be this perfect kid and I'm gonna grow up to be amazing, and its exhausting! I want to make a decision without worrying that I'm going to do wrong by you! And then mercy… mercy never saw me for me, and I always had to be perfect for her and she's gone now but I'm just so tired dad! I'm tired of trying to fit inside this perfect box that I think you have for me, I want to be a teenager, I want to date, I want to go to parties, I want to make mistakes and not cry myself to sleep thinking I've made you hate me. It’s so hard to try to make you happy all the time. I want to have a chance to just make me happy.”

Logan stared at Roman. He had been trying so hard to protect him and take care of him, and all he had been doing was overwhelming him. He had never meant to do any of it, Roman was right, but he went back through his brain and it hurt to see that he had unconsciously pushed his son onto a pedestal that was impossible to escape from. He was never disappointed in him, whether he did good or bad or made mistakes, he had always tried to show that he was proud no matter what. He felt tears welling in his eyes and saw Roman twist uncomfortably. He felt Patton's arm wrap around his shoulders, but he couldn’t stay there, his mind was racing too fast. He was catastrophizing he knew, but he couldn’t so easily stop himself. His head was knocked out of the process when Roman ran into his arms, wrapping him in a hug. He let his arms fold around his sons waist, letting a few tears fall.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry dad I just- I needed to tell you and I was going to tell you in a nicer way, a better planned way but then this happened and it all came out I'm sorry dad I didn’t mean to make you cry”

“it’s- its fine Ro. I needed to hear that from you. I'm. I'm sorry Ro I didn’t mean it. I try so hard to show that I'm always proud of you, god you have helped me so much and I've never realized that I was making you feel so pressured I'm sorry bee, I’ll try harder, I didn’t know-”

Logan’s head was buried in Roman’s chest, it was the benefit of his son growing taller than him, he could hide his tear stained face out of sight. He sniffed a bit, rubbing his eyes before letting go of him. He smiled widely at Roman.

“I was wrong to have set such impossible standards. It was wrong of me to treat you like I had a second chance at my childhood. I really, just want the best for you but-”

He took a sharp inhale and looked him in the eyes.

“but its your life. And-and if you want, if you want to date. Then, I-I support you completely. Because, because I love you Roman. So so much.”

His eyes teared up again, and he let out a choked laugh while rubbing his eyes clear. Roman smiled at him and hugged him again, thanking him profusely. At that point Virgil walked back inside. He looked at the scene, sending a questioning glance at Patton over the other two. Patton let out a small smile and shook his head, to which Virgil shrugged and went upstairs without a further thought.

 “so, he was fine with it?”

“I mean he wasn’t, but I explained a few things and he's fine with it now. It took a little bit of the harsher truths to be spilled for him to understand my point, and a few tears, but yeah.”

“wow. I haven’t seen… either of you cry in my entire time knowing you.”

“yeah it doesn’t happen often. I think the last time I saw my dad cry was when he told me that mercy wasn’t coming back.”

“geez that’s a long time. And its always baffled me that I've never seen you cry; I've known you since you were 2.”

“yeah, I'm a uh, private crier. I don’t think I've cried in front of people really since I could talk.”

“fuck man how the hell did you manage that?”

“… I mean I don’t remember it, but I think it was a leftover from when I still lived with mercy.”

“what.”

“eh, it doesn’t matter.”

“no wait what? What did she do to you?”

“pfft, I just told you Vee, I don’t remember. I get vague fuzzy feelings that are sorta like if memories were feelings, but otherwise I have no idea.”

“that’s fucked up man”

“meh. Anyways back to the original topic, soooo can I get Dmitri's number?”

“oh my god.”

“oh, and you're at 75 cents.”

“shit.”

“a dollar!”

 Virgil had handed over his number easily, smirking as Roman gave him a hug before dashing into his own room. Roman had immediately sent Dmitri a text, ‘hey, its Roman! Dads way more chill now so I stole your number from Virgil’ and he had responded almost immediately.

‘neat so are we gonna talk about what that was?’

‘I mean, I thought it was p straight forward, but I mean if you think we should?’

‘I mean yeah but’

Radio silence for a minute

‘but like, idk if you want this to be serious or smth like, casual. I mean I don’t care either way’

‘oh! Well something serious sounds nice!’

‘thank god I was not prepared for something casual regardless of what I said’

‘pfft, its fine tough guy’

‘if that nickname sticks you gotta use it around rem, it'll make him bug out’

‘alrighty! Tough guy~’

‘ouch yo chill it with that I'm in public’

‘pfft ur a dork Dee!’

‘I am absolutely not a whale’s penis and I'm offended you would even imply it’

‘oh my god I'm gonna break up with you’

‘nooooo don’t do that I'm too dark and mysterious to be broken up with for that’

‘dark and mysterious my butt! The only dark thing about you is your humor and the only mysterious things about you are your eyes!’

‘babe I have a reputation to keep up!’

‘guess your rep will just have to fit me in there somewhere then!’

‘god you are adorable, I gtg before you somehow make me start uwuing at my family’

‘uwu bye bye mistew dmitwi!!!’

‘god its disgusting kill it with fire’

‘love you too Dee! <3<3<3’

‘<3’

Roman set down his phone afterwards, feeling the butterflies attacking his insides like rabid animals. He changed the tab over to his YouTube and put on his headphones, listening to his curated BTS playlist, starting off with answer: love myself, bopping along and humming. He switched the tab and scrolled through Tumblr smiling at the posts about his favorite superheroes.

 The next week was absolutely blissful for Roman, he alternated between sitting at his table with a few of his acquaintances who he would chat with about his hyperfixations, and with Dmitri and his friends. Virgil had a different lunch hour luckily, otherwise he would have been slightly embarrassed. But hilariously the first day he sat with Dee, his friends were caught off guard as a boy in soft pastels and stonewashed jeans sat beside Dmitri and was immediately nestled underneath his arm. There were words signed across the table and Dee would chuckle and respond which sent their eyes flying to Roman in his seat as he ate his sandwich oblivious to the reason he was being stared at, just sending kind smiles back at them.

When lunch had ended, he had stood on his toes and kissed Dee’s cheek and his friends all had the shocked looks on their faces again. He ran off to class and had forgotten about the whole interaction afterwards. He was only reminded after school through a text from Dee.

‘sorry about my friends at lunch, they're judgmental shits. I told them off but knowing them they might continue to be asshats anyways’

‘huh. Didn’t even notice. I really need to get around to fully learning sign, I have the smallest feeling that if I'm hanging out with you more it might possibly be useful.’

‘meh, if I really need you to know something and I can’t talk I’ll just text you.’

‘mmm but I still want to learn! Anyways what were they saying’

‘oh they were being dicks about your clothes and then they were being shits about me dating you, they're assholes, I only hang out with them cuz coach had everyone learn sign for me and they're the only people I can talk to during the school day’

‘oh, that’s rude! Do you want me to stop hanging out with you at lunch?’

‘no not at all, I just want you to know what you're getting into’

‘mhm!’

The next time Roman sat with them, he had sent about 8 insults to the people around the table while Dee wasn’t looking, essentially ‘fuck off you judgmental homophobic dicks’ and after that the group shut their traps about him and Dee.

 The week after, Dmitri was busy almost always. There was a big game this weekend and he Remy and Virgil were always either practicing, doing schoolwork, or sleeping for the most part. He would send good morning and good night texts but that was mostly it and Roman felt dumb for missing him so much. Virgil invited him to practice after seeing him sitting around staring at his phone like a kicked dog.

He had sat on the bleachers, watching the coach drill them and them playing near their best. They had taken a rest and Dmitri had made his way up to him, a giant bottle of water in hand. He smiled and let out a croaked hello.

“oh, Dmitri when was the last time you spoke?”

He had coughed and held up a 6 on his fingers. Roman pouted and placed a kiss on his chapped lips. Dmitri waved his hand to say it isn't a problem with a smile on his face and it made Roman pout more and kiss him again, wrapping his arms around himself after. Dee ruffled his hair and went to say something when the whistle blew calling them back. He sighed and stood up, signing ‘I love you’ before rushing back to the field. Roman sat in silence, watching them play once again.

 Roman was beaming. The game was today and that meant he would get Dmitri back afterwards along with Remy and Virgil. He was filled with jitters; he knows the team had been working tirelessly for the whole week and he was excited to see his friends kick the rival schools butt! He was rushing Patton out the door again, just like he was a few weeks before but for a separate reason this time.

He wasn’t expecting the time at the game to fly as quick as it did, but here he was. It was nearing the end and they weren’t very far ahead, and the worry was clear on the teams faces. And then Dmitri had the ball! The crowd roared in surprise and excitement as he weaved around the opposition. He got caught near the goal and Roman was on the edge of his seat as Dmitri kicked the ball straight into the goal. The cheers were immediate, the buzzer signaling the end of the game followed a few seconds later. Roman was up and standing at the edge of the guardrail of the bleachers jumping up and down and screaming. He raced down and met Dmitri at the entrance of the showers, looking around before tugging him off towards the underside of the bleachers. He spoke in barely restrained squeals.

“Dee I'm so proud of you!!! Oh, my goodness you did so well!!! I can’t even-”

Dmitri cut him off with a kiss, one that Roman reciprocated immediately, wrapping his arms around his neck and tilting his head as well as he could with the height difference they had when suddenly he wasn’t standing on his own feet but being held in the air from his waist. He broke the kiss with a squeak, placing his hands-on Dmitri's shoulders as he was hoisted in the air by a happy Dee. He squeaked again as he was spun around before being set on the ground. When he was steady again, he looked up at Dmitri with an amused but confused face.

“we did it”

“you did! Had you not processed that yet?”

“not really no.”

“oh, my goodness you are a dork.”

“listen if you had scored the last goal you would be a little stunned too”

“valid however-”

“oh, just shut up and kiss me again you prep”

“gladly”

“ey before you two start making out you might want to go talk to the team? They're sort of wanting to congratulate you, but you disappeared.”

Roman froze in embarrassment at his brother catching them. Dmitri just smirked and turned to face him.

“listen if any of them could get a significant other they would understand. But considering that even you haven’t gotten the nerve to ask out Remy yet, I guess they wouldn’t so I guess I should grace them with my presence, huh babe?”

“hey, fuck off my little brother didn’t need to know I like your brother!”

“oops!”

Roman giggled a bit at the blush that spread across Virgil's face. He nudged Dmitri.

“be nice honeybee. And he's right, I stole you from your festivities! We should head back over; we can be cute later”

“nonsense, that implies that you can stop being cute”

“bluhhhh that’s my brotherrrrr come on you two, be gross later”

 “DMITRI THAT WAS LEGENDARY!!!”

Dee had a cocky look on his face as his teammates congratulated him, Remy running up and tackling in a hug at first sight. He chuckled wordlessly at his brother who was screaming praise at him and then dragging him into the showers. The team followed them in all continuing to shout praise and Roman contemplated following as well. He eventually just went in after about 10 minutes, finding Dmitri surrounded by his team and. He blanched and turned around a corner, hiding his face in his hands. On the other side, Dmitri sat with blue jeans and no shirt, still dripping water from his hair. He took a few big breaths before wandering back over, not trying to push past anyone and just standing where he knew Dmitri could see him. He flushed when Dmitri smiled and winked at him over the heads of his teammates, curling up in his arms and covering his face again. He whispered to himself in his hands

“gosh I'm really gay and he's unfairly pretty”

It wasn’t much longer before the group had filed out, done with the celebration, Virgil given him a nudge as he left. He walked in, seeing Dmitri finally pulling out his shirt, and Roman couldn’t help but turn away with a bit of shyness hitting him again.

“what's up Roman? You good babe?”

“mhm! You just um,”

His mouth felt dry as salt and he was wondering when that happened.

“you look nice…”

“pfft you're a nerd.”

Roman’s mind came up with several scenarios for what could happen as he stood up to kiss him. Of course, all that happened was hands around his waist as Dee leant down to give him an easier time. He still felt fuzzy but ignored it as Dmitri pulled away to put his shirt on, quickly pulling on his leather jacket on afterwards before placing a kiss on Roman’s temple and grabbing his hand.

“come on, I'm stealing you, my folks are treating the team to ice cream and pizza and they’ve been wanting to meet you.”

“wh-what? Wait you talk about me with your parents?”

“Remy sold me out day one, but yeah, they seem genuinely interested in meeting you, so I mean why not?”

“oh. Ok then. I should probably tell my dads first, but I’ll be back!”

He ran up to Logan, wrapping him in a hug before explaining everything to him and Patton. Logan looked unsure but Patton backed him up.

“Lolo, Virgil's going to be there too, and it’s not like he's going to be stranded! Plus, there's a new diner that opened a bit ago that I've been wanting to take you to!”

“…ok. You have your keys and your wallet and your phone, right?”

“yes dad!”

“…ok then. Go have fun. Let me or pat know when you are coming home.”

“ok! See you guys tonight! Love you!!!”

 The party was far more calm than Roman had expected, most of the team dipping early on leaving just him and Virgil as guests. Neither could complain, they had free access to an abundance of pizza and ice cream, and they could spend uninterrupted time with the objects of their affections. Virgil and Remy had absconded upstairs playing games or something while Roman was sitting next to Dmitri and his parents.

“how long have you been dating now?”

“um, 2 weeks!”

“wow! And you two are already attached by the hip huh?”

Roman nodded as his cheeks burned. He felt his boyfriends arm snake around his waist, pulling him closer.

“oh, you two are adorable! We’ll leave you be, don’t have too much fun with him kiddo!”

Roman visibly relaxed as they left, leaning against his boyfriend and letting out a sigh. Dmitri moved his arm up, running his fingers through his hair, grinning at the purr like noise Roman made in response.

“you should stay the night”

“my dad wouldn’t let me do that unless-”

Virgil stormed down the stairs with a lovesick expression.

“Roman we’re staying the night!”

“oh! Does dad-”

“yeah don’t worry its fine they're chill!”

“what happened?”

“I-”

“BOY YOU BETTER GET BACK UP HERE AND KISS ME I'M HAVING KISS WITHDRAWL”

“let’s say me and Remy are a thing now? Gotta go!”

“…about what I was saying…”

“isn't that the best timing huh?”

“oh hush!”

“wanna head to bed? It is pretty late.”

“um, sure. But I wanted to cuddle some more…”

“who said I was gonna stop cuddling you nerd?”

“I? um uh”

“you can share a bed without it being sexual I hope you know.”

“oh! Oh yeah I totally, yeah duh, of course”

“come on babe”

Roman frowned at him rolling his eyes but followed him upstairs. He had walked into his room and grabbed some clothing before filing into the bathroom. When he came back, Roman had to confronts his gay again, as he was shirtless once again and he was talking to him and he's got to focus dammit!

“-so that’s why, also I have various pajamas in there, and I also have shirts that are probably way to big for you in there as well, take your pick.”

“oh um, I was just gonna sleep in this!”

“…yeah no. those jeans are way too form fitting to get away with sleeping in, and your shirt does not look nearly comfortable enough.”

“o-okay then I guess…”

He grabbed a pair of sleep shorts and one of his shirts and headed into the bathroom. When he came back, he immediately launched himself into his boyfriends’ arms. Dmitri giggled seeing the shirt choice, placing a quick kiss on his nose.

“nah you're a sarcastic butterfly”

“shhhhh I'm a sarcastic mothhhh”

“keep tellin yourself that precious”

Roman sputters a bit before giving up and hiding his face in Dee’s chest. Dmitri goes back to playing with Roman’s hair, and Roman leans into the touch. After a bit of time passes, he stops, and nudges Roman fully into bed.

“why’d you stop?”

“because that’s not a comfortable sleep position. Lay down prep, sleep is important.”

“but I don’t want to sleep, I want kisses”

Dmitri rolls his eyes and kisses Roman. By the time he pulls away, Roman has passed out. He laughs quietly and wraps his arms around the smaller boy, letting himself drift off as well.

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[sourwolf-sterek32]

Terminus ( Daryl Dixon x Reader One-shot )

Summary: Terminus. It was not a sanctuary for all. It was far from it and little did you know today was about to turn into the worst day of your life as you sat in front of a blood stained metal tub. Your life minutes away from crashing down around you as you looked through teary eyes at your brother, Sam.

Pairings: Daryl Dixon x Reader 

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: mentions of death, descriptions of death, mentions of blood, gore, just basic twd stuff

A/N: Yes I know those photos are Sam Winchester but the reader isn’t a Winchester, the readers brother is called Sam and I pictured him while I wrote this. Also, I was in a really sad mood when I wrote this, like I was very emotional that day and this was how I dealt with those emotions by writing a sad one-shot. Sorry not sorry.

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Side note- I hate Tumblr’s new font on text posts, so if you guys do as well you can find this fic and all my others on my AO3 and Wattpad accounts, link for those in my bio at the bottom of my masterlist. 

Your hands were tied behind your back, your mouth gaged with some kind of cloth or rag. You were forced onto your knees in front of a large metal tub which had blood stains painted through it. You had a really bad feeling about this and you weren't afraid to admit that you were scared. Hell, your older brother Sam seemed scared despite their best efforts to hide it. He was the bravest man you know, nothing could scare him, but right now everyone was.

You were between Sam, and Glenn, but you knew Daryl, Rick and Bob were further down the tub on your right. The men from Terminus were all wearing blood-covered aprons as you glanced around the large warehouse. Your stomach turned when you spotted a man across the room cutting a dead body's leg on top of a metal bench. What the hell is this place? What kind of sick people do that?

You turned your attention back to the Terminus men behind you guys when you noticed one of them holding a metal bat as they walked towards the end of the tub.

Before you could even try figure what they were planning the Terminus man swung the bat, slamming it into the back of the guys head who was at the end of the tub, instantly knocking him out cold. What the hell were they doing? You thought to yourself as the other Terminus man grabbed the unconscious guys head before slicing his throat and dropping his body back against the tub. His blood now flowing into the metal tub.

You stared at the man's body in shock, your body beginning to shake in fear. These guys are fucking psychos, you had to get out of here.

Without hesitation you quickly pulled down the large wooden stake you'd broken off from inside the train cart where you guys were being held earlier. You had hidden it up the sleeve of your flannel shirt, but you just hoped it was strong enough to cut through the zip ties around your wrist.

"Hey guys, what were your shot counts?" Gareth's voice suddenly questioned as you looked across the warehouse to find him walking through the door.

"38." One of the men replied before slamming the bat against the next man as you forced yourself to look away. You glanced down the row spotting Daryl who was staring at you, his expression masked, but you knew him. You knew Daryl well enough to know he was panicking and you were too.

"Hey, your shot count?" Gareth questioned turning your attention back to the men.

"Crap man, I'm sorry. This is my first round up." The man with the knife replied, his voice slightly nervous as he stared over at the leader.

"After you're done here go back to your point and count the shells." Gareth replied as he wrote something down in whatever book he was holding as he began to walk away. No he couldn't leave yet, if he did the others would continue killing you guys.

Without a second thought you tried shouting at him through the gag in your mouth, trying anything to get his attention and distract him. Rick, Daryl and Sam would have a plan, they always came up with a plan, you just had to distract the man for as long as possible.

"What's that honey? I can't hear you." Gareth responded, closing his book and putting it on the bench as he walked over to you. He crouched down on the other side of the tub opposite you as he pulled the gag out of your mouth.

"You don't have to do this. Please. You can take all our stuff and weapons, just let us go." You pleated. You hated begging for your life like this, you knew it sounded pathetic, but it was the only option you had left as you continued to try cut through the zip ties slowly, not wanting them to notice.

"We already took all your stuff, honey." He replied with a sickening grin.

"You can walk away from this, we can work it out. It doesn't have to be like this." You added, but the man shook his head as he put the gag back over your mouth.

"It does. It has to be like this." He stated as he turned his attention over to Rick, crouching down opposite him and taking his gag out.

"I saw you go in the woods with a bag and come out without it. What was in it? You hid it right? In case things went bad? Smart, we'll find it. But it's too dangerous to go out there right now." Gareth said as he pulled a knife out from his belt before grabbing Bob's head and holding the blade to it. "What was in it? I'm curious and it was a big bag."

"Let me take you out there. I'll show you." Rick replied, but it was clear by the slight shake to Gareth's head that he wasn't going to fall for that.

"Not going to happen. But this might." Gareth responded pointing the knife towards Bob's eye.

"AK-47, automatic weapons, night scope, a compound bow and a machete with a red handle. And that's what I'm gonna use to kill you." Rick stated glaring at Gareth who just chuckled before putting his knife back and placing the gag back over Ricks mouth.

"Thanks. Guys, get back to work." Gareth ordered as he walked out the room. Shit.

You watched on in panic as his men continued doing the exact same thing to the next two guys, while you hurriedly worked on moving the wooden stake up and down against your restrains trying desperately to cut them. Your heart pounding against your chest. You had to stop this, your brother was next in line.

This couldn't be happening, it had to be a dream. Your brother couldn't die like this, not after everything you guys had been through. You'd survived this long, he can't die like this. He was the only family you had left, you can't lose him too. You just lost your younger sister when the Governor attacked the prison, she got caught in the crossfire, a bullet piercing straight through her skull. Daryl and Beth had to literally drag you out of prison when walkers began filing in through the broken fences. The only closure you got was to see Daryl kill the bastard who fired the gun and the fact that she died instantly. No pain. No suffering. It was quick and hopefully painless. But this... this was entirely different. You had just found your brother again after the prison fell, you had just got him back only a few days ago. You can't lose him again, you can't lose him forever.

Tears were now tricking from your eyes as you looked over at your brother. He was staring at you with glazed over eyes from his unshed tears giving you a small nod and if it wasn't for the gag over his mouth you could have sworn he was smiling at you. Why was he smiling? This couldn't be happening... You can't lose him too.

Your eyes glanced over at the Terminus men dropping the last guy back down against the tub, his blood now mixing in with the others.

You screamed into the rag covering your mouth, trying anything to get the men away from your brother, but it was too late. The bat came swinging down against the back of Sam's skull before they slit his throat.

Tears were now pouring down your face as you somehow managed to slice through the zip ties around your hands. Without hesitation you quickly stood up pushing the man with the knife away from your brother. His lifeless body falling to the ground, blood pouring from his neck.

"You'll die for that!" You screamed slamming the wooden stake into the man's shoulder, but before you could do anything else the other man grabbed you from behind. You couldn't move, he had your arms pinned behind your back and you knew there was no way out of this. But you didn't care, you didn't care about anything anymore as you looked through teary eyes at your brothers limp, pale body laying on the cement in a pool of his blood.

You felt the barrel of a gun pressed against your temple and you closed your eyes waiting for him to end it. But before the man could pull the trigger something suddenly exploded from outside, shaking the entire warehouse.

You fell to the ground from the explosion, the Terminus man hitting the deck behind you as his finger bumped the trigger, the bullet piercing through your left thigh as you cried out in pain.

The next few minutes went by in a blur. You were vaguely aware of the gunshots in the distance and Rick somehow getting out of his restraints and killing the two Terminus men before cutting Daryl, Glenn and Bob's restraints off. But all you could do was stare at your brothers dead body by the metal tub. Your hands covering your mouth trying to muffle your sobs.

"Sammy." You whimpered not bothering to try stop the tears falling down your cheeks. He's gone. He died and you didn't do anything to stop it. What kind of sister were you?

"They got problems. We got a chance." Rick stated from somewhere to your right.

"It sounded like a bomb." Someone else added, but you weren't listening until a set of hands grabbed your shoulders.

"Y/N? Hey, look at me. Look me." Someone shouted, shaking your shoulders gently, but you couldn't take your eyes off your brother, your hand still over your mouth as you tried to hold back tears. You felt something wrapping around your bleeding thigh as you winced at the sudden pain, snapping you away from your brother as you spotted a familiar red rag being tied around your leg. "Y/N? Please girl, ya gotta look at me." The same voice said and suddenly you realised it was Daryl as you lifted your head. Your red brimmed eyes locking with his panicked blue ones as you gave him a small nod. You knew you needed to be strong, you had to be strong if you wanted to get out of this, you didn't have a choice. You could cry later, right now your friends were in danger and you weren't going to let anyone else die today.

"Y/N, I'm sorry, but we gotta go." Rick called from the other side of the room causing Daryl to quickly stand up holding his hand out for you. You took his hand, groaning at the sudden pain in your thigh as you put weight on your left leg.

"Can ya walk?" Daryl asked and you nodded, not trusting your voice at the moment before he handed you a knife from one of the benches as the two of you ran over to Rick, Glenn and Bob on the other side of the room. The bullet wound burning in pain after every step as you moved on pure adrenaline.

Daryl stayed by your side the entire time as the group of you walked through a door that lead to a different room. Dead bodies hanging off meat hooks from the ceiling, arms, legs and heads all cut off as you forced yourself to look away. Who the hell were these people?

"Cross any of these people you kill them. Don't hesitate, they won't." Rick stated and with that you all made your way outside. Walkers were roaming the courtyard, Terminus people running around either shooting at the walkers or just purely running for their lives.

It didn't take you guys long to kill most the Terminus people, although Gareth and couple others were nowhere to be seen. Rick unlocked the train cart door, letting Michonne, Carl, Maggie, Glenn, Rosita, Tara, Abraham and Eugene out and with the group of you, you managed to cut through enough walkers to get to the fence.

"Up and over!" Rosita yelled, throwing a large blanket over the top of the barbed wire fence as everyone began climbing over.

"I-I can't. Not with my leg." You began to mumble taking a step away from the fence, the pain in your leg starting to really kick in as it gave way from underneath you. Daryl quickly grabbed you from behind stopping you from hitting the ground.

"I'll help ya. I ain't lettin' ya die too." He responded as he wrapped his arm around your waist helping you walk over to the fence as him and Rick somehow managed to get you over the fence as you landed on the dirt on the other side of the fence with a thud.

"Oh my God, you're shot." Maggie suddenly said as she helped you back onto your feet before Daryl and Rick climbed the fence.

"We need to get that bag of guns, Daryl?" Rick asked looking over at his brother as Daryl glanced over to you. He clearly didn't want to leave you alone, but you gave him a reassuring nod as you leant against Maggie for support.

"It's this way." Daryl suddenly said as he began tracking back to where you guys had buried the bag. Maggie helped you walk, Glenn walking on the other side of you in case you lost your balance.

After a few minutes Daryl pointed to the ground, kicking a few leaves to expose a small shovel before handing it to Rick as he began digging up the bag.

"I got her." Daryl said walking back over to you as Maggie and Glenn nodded giving the two of you some space. "Sit down for a bit, let me see it." Daryl said gently and you nodded as he carefully helped you sit down, the others all watching you with concern as Rick continued digging for the bag.

"We don't have any bandages or medical equipment." Abraham stated from somewhere behind you and you nodded. The bullet had gone all the way through so that was good, but you didn't care. You didn't even care that you'd been shot. Your brother's dead and you were still alive. It shouldn't be like that, he was stronger, he was smarter, he was braver, it should have been you.

"We got medical supplies." A familiar voice suddenly called as you looked across the woods to find Carol walking towards the group of you with Daryl's crossbow in her hands. It was her. She caused the distraction back in Terminus.

In a split second Daryl was up and jogging over to her, wrapping her up in a tight hug and despite everything that has had happened you couldn't help the small smile on your face. You had thought she was dead after Rick kicked her out the prison.

"Did you do that?" Rick asked as Daryl pulled away from her taking a few steps back and Carol nodded before Rick pulled her into a hug.

"You have to come with me." Carol suddenly said looking over at the rest of you before her eyes landed on you, spotting the blood seeping through the rag around your thigh and down your jeans. But that wasn't what she was worried about, she was staring into your red eyes and you knew she was starting to put together what happened. Her eyes quickly scanned the rest of the group before she looked back at you with a sad expression.

"Your brother... oh my God." Carol whispered walking over to you in realisation as she dropped to her knees besides you and wrapped you up in a hug. "I'm so sorry."

You had to blink back tears as she pulled away from you before leading the group to whatever she wanted you to see. Daryl was immediately by your side, helping you up as you all reached a road and began following it until Carol veered off down a dirt path towards a small wooden cabin.

You were kinda zoned out as you all walked towards the cabin. Images of filling your mind of your brothers lifeless body and his teary eyes as he looked at you, that small smile on his face as he stared at you for the last time.

Suddenly Rick, Carl and Sasha began sprinting towards the cabin, snapping you out of your thoughts. And that's when you saw them. Tyrese holding baby Judith walking out the cabin. They were alive.

You watched as Tyrese handed Rick his daughter, him and Carl hugging her with tears of joy as Sasha ran over to her brother, pulling him into a hug. Suddenly a wave of emotion hit you as you watched the brother and sister hug. You weren't ever going to hug Sam again, he was gone and the last conversation the two of you had was a stupid argument.

"I don't need you constantly looking over me! I'm not a little girl anymore, Sam. I can take care of myself!" You yelled in frustration as the two of you walked back towards the group who were currently camped by a few broken down cars on the side of the road for the night.

"Really? Because I just had to save your life back there. You didn't even see the walker sneaking up behind you." Sam responded, crossing his arms over his chest and you knew he was right. You were stupid and let your guard down when you spotted the squirrel in the tree. You were so focused on hunting the damn animal that you forgot about the dead walking around and if it wasn't for your brother, you would have been bit.

"I had it handled!" You lied causing your brother to throw his hands in the air in defeat.

"Whatever. Daryl, she's all yours." Your brother stated as the two of you reached the group who were all watching you in a mix of confusion and amusement. You and your brother rarely fought, most siblings fought all the time, but you two rarely did. Although the last couple of weeks were really starting to take its toll on you. First Beth got taken away and then the Claimers happened and now you were all literally moving from house to house to survive. It was all just starting to get to you and you couldn't control your anger, your brother just happened to be there when you snapped.

"Ya alright?" Daryl questioned pushing himself up from the tailgate of an old beat up truck as he walked over to you.

"Yeah, just got in a stupid argument with my brother. It doesn't matter, let's cook up these squirrels." You replied holding up the three squirrels you had tied to rope around your shoulder as Daryl nodded wrapping his arm over your waist as the two of you walked back over to the group.

"We have medical supplies in the cabin. Y/N come inside, we'll get your leg fixed up." Tyrese's voice suddenly called snapping you out of your flashback as you glanced over at him. His arm wrapped over his sisters shoulder and that was all it took for the tears to come rushing back into your eyes. You couldn't do this, you couldn't be here around everyone, you just couldn't.

Shaking your head you began taking a few steps backwards away from the group. You could feel everyone watching you as you quickly turned around and began walking off into the woods.

"Was it something I said?" Tyrese asked watching as you walked off before he looked around at the rest of the group in confusion.

"She just lost her brother back there. I'll go talk to her." Daryl responded not waiting for the others to reply as he walked off in the direction you had gone. "Y/N?" He called following your tracks until he spotted you sitting down against a tree, you knees bought up to your chest as you rested your head on top. He could tell you were crying by the way your body was trembling as you tried to muffle your sobs.

You didn't even notice Daryl had followed you until he sat down beside you, resting his arm around your shoulders causing you to quickly flinch away at the unexpected contact.

"It's just me." Daryl whispered, leaning his back against the tree as you relaxed into his touch. "M'sorry, Y/N. I'm so sorry." He said gently looking down as you buried your face into the crook of his neck unable to control your sobs as he wrapped his arms around your body, holding you closely.

He didn't say anything else as he held you tightly, letting you cry into him. He knew how it felt to lose a brother, he knew you needed to let yourself feel it, but he knew how painful it was. You were there for him when Merle had died, letting him cry into you as he mourned his brothers death and he was gonna make sure he did the same for you.

You weren't sure how long you stayed curled up against Daryl's side, but you had stopped crying a while ago. Your body still shaking as you tried to get the imagines of your brothers dead body out your head.

"H-he's gone... He's really gone and the last time I talk to him, I yelled at him... we were arguing... God, he hated me..." You trailed off tears rising in your eyes again as you pulled away from Daryl, sitting yourself up straighter, wincing slightly at the pain in your thigh.

"He didn't hate ya. You're his sister, he loved ya, Y/N, which was why he got so annoyed when ya nearly got bit." Daryl replied looking over at you and you nodded slightly as he wiped a stray tear from you cheek with his thumb.

"Come back to the group with me so we can get your leg stitched up. I know it hurts and I'm not just talkin' about the gunshot wound. Ya have to let yourself feel it and ya don't have to do it alone. Ya got me and Rick and the others, alright? We're here for ya." Daryl said softly, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"Thanks, Dixon." You whispered, giving him a sad smile as he stood up, holding his hand out for you. You took it letting him help you to your feet as you winced at the sudden pressure on your left leg.

"You're a tough son of a bitch, Sam would have been proud of ya." Daryl commented causing you to smile ever so slightly as he wrapped his arm around your waist helping you walk back to the others.

There were no happy endings in life. Endings were always the saddest part. There were just happy days, happy moments in life and happy memories that you'd cherish forever. You may be mourning right now but your little sister, your mother, your father, all the family and friends you had lost along the way. They were rejoicing to greet Sam in heaven and one day you will be able to see him again too. But that day was not today.

-

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