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uncouth-the-fifth · 3 years

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imagine damian and the reader at the wayne gala. he gets jealous when he sees her flirting with someone else. he ends up pulling her into a bathroom and fucking her in front of a mirror while saying that other person can’t treat her like he does

and that’s how the reader finds out damian has feelings for her. all this time he acted like he hates her because he’s in denial

Title: More Than They Ever Said

Paring: Robin!Damian (18+) / Canary!Reader

Tags/Warnings: semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, bathroom sex, slight underage drinking (reader is like 20 lol), mentions of golf.

Word Count: 7150

Notes: sooooo.... this def evolved beyond a drabble lol. the way gala sex kills me every time 😭 I was a little mushy w Dami here bc I miss his sweet side. This also sounded a lot like goldenspecs12's request from Wattpad, so I hope you don't mind that I meshed the two together 😚 I leaned toward Damian liking the reader more than being in denial, but that’s the only thing I sacrificed between the two requests. This one is my fluffiest and most romantic yet 💖

"can I request Damian w a Queen reader, like she's Oliver and Dinah's child? say the reader is a hero but not very active, like she comes in when her parents can't. so when she and Damian meet, they hit it off. The main request is that they sneak away at a gala held by Oliver and the reader and Damian have sex."

Ask to be added to my taglist for future posts!

The party was more fun than you thought it would be.

Benefits were usually chalk-full of old, wealthy people that thought they made good conversationalists. The board members of Queen Industries were tired of Oliver trying to escape their claws, so you’d been recruited in his place. While your dad got to play minigolf in the penthouse’s massive party floor, you were confined to the lounge, playing up what an intelligent, capable business partner you’d be when you were CEO. Fellow businessmen gruffed about their plans with you while their wives cooed and drank, pinching your cheeks.

You thought that you’d hate it, but the attention and the praise was nice. It made you feel like you were helping your dad and your family’s company, which was constantly criticized and judged for it’s choice in CEO. Everyone called your father a lazy silver-spooned idiot, but he was one of the only men in Star City who actually cared. By the time you had Q.I’s biggest donors laughing out of their seats, Dinah’s hands slipped over your shoulders and you were kissed on the side of the face. Thank you, she mouthed, and your position as family support-beam was covered.

Since most of the benefit-goers were at least forty years your senior, you gravitated to your dad. From the penthouse’s upper balcony, you could see his friends circling around the tiny green mats they were using as a makeshift golf course. Usually, Ollie made sure his public persona’s aim was as garbage as his taste in drink was. But tonight, he played as Green Arrow, who never missed. Not once. Especially when it came to Bruce Wayne, who’s golf game was abysmal at best.

But like Oliver, Bruce was a new man tonight. It looked like he was ready to break out the batarangs any minute now. The two men were barely civil about the viciousness of their competition, and if the view of the game from the balcony was interesting, then from below it must’ve been the greatest show of fragile masculinity ever displayed. You had to make fun of them.

The only opening in the circle of men, who all had their hands on their chins as Bruce lined up his next shot, was by the floor-to-ceiling windows to one side of the game. Just one man stood there, hands in his pockets. You slid next to him, unbothered, and squinted at the game.

Everyone in the crowd was dead silent. Bruce was lining up his golf ball so it would roll into a mug a couple of feet away, so you helpfully provided, “A little to the left, Mr. Wayne.”

Your words overlapped with someone else’s. Where you had said Mr. Wayne, they had said Father. Then the man next to you was his son, but...

You would have never guessed it would be him.

Reasonably, you knew that Robin was Damian Wayne. Oliver could be a little loose-lipped at times, and by his judgment you’d been a teenager just a year ago - what could a twenty year old do to Batman’s secret identity? Not much.

Until you saw Robin without his mask.

Damian was achingly beautiful. He was your age, but he stood and talked like he was much older. There was an angle to his shoulder that made him seem astute and sexy. His eyes fixed on you when you spoke at the same time, and they were a surprising mossy color that jumped out against his tan skin, like plants flourishing out of rich soil. There was just enough blue in them to make him seem haunting. Any moment, you felt like he was going to corner you and whisper your future throatily in your ear.

Looking into them, those piercing eyes, for longer than a second made you want to blurt, “You’re much prettier without your mask.”

But that would expose his secret to every golf-loving idiot in earshot, so Oliver had been wrong. A twenty-year-old like you could do fatal damage to Batman’s secret identity, but for Damian, the short-tempered, snappish leader of the Teen Titans, you would risk anything.

Damian stared, and you stared. He squinted, wet his lips, then turned back to the game. This was your only acknowledgment that he recognised you. His voice was deeper, smoother, than you remember it. “Queen.”

You shifted in your shoes, almost laughing in shock. “...Wayne.”

The game grew boring and Damian didn’t say anything else, so you said nothing too, sneaking glances at him. The last time you’d spoken to Robin had been in costume, when he’d thanked you for assisting with a mission. He’d really been thanking you for standing up for him. You didn’t team up often with the Titans, but when you did, you found that they were unusually snappy and mean with their leader. Not necessary on purpose, but you could tell that Damian couldn’t take as many bites as he pretended to. Standing up for him had been a simple thing. The good thing to do. Now, with that look in his eyes, it almost felt like he still thought about it.

He must have, because the kiss you shared at the end of that mission had glowed with heat. To be fair, you both may have believed you were going to die (before the team pulled through and saved you), so it could’ve been a heat-of-the-moment thing. But this was Robin - if he didn't want to kiss you, he wouldn't. And yet he did.

You’d kissed. And the energy of that kiss lingered between you now, drawing you closer together, putting tiny smiles on your faces. He was cute. Cuter without that mask on.

You stood in the stupid golf silence, feeling foolish. Flirting with boys was much easier in fishnets. It didn’t help how fine Damian’s profile was. He had soft, feathery lashes that occasionally touched down on beauty marked cheeks. His lips were even fuller from the side, forever drawn in a curious line. And those eyes, when they caught yours and danced away again, were much too nice to hide behind a mask. You couldn’t get that thought out of your mind.

When Bruce finally made his move, you leaned in to whisper something to each other at the same time, accidentally knocking shoulders.

“I - apologies,” Damian flushed.

“Oh, um, my bad,” you rubbed awkwardly at the spot where you’d collided. “...You were going to say something?”

Damian’s eyes flicked to your fathers, then to you, unimpressed. He lowered his voice so only you could hear. “They’re awfully hypocritical, don’t you think? Father snaps at me everytime I use my skills in public, and yet he’s putting with perfect aim like it’s not the very same.”

Chuckling, you rolled your eyes and scooted closer, ducking your voice into the bubble between your bodies. “My dad’s the same way. Don’t aim in the house, he says, unless it’s him trying to beat Bruce Wayne.”

Your company’s shoulders turned sideways, leaning into you. His breath ghosted the hair on your neck, standing it on end, and again that silky voice sent tingles down your spine. Damian must change his voice as Robin, because he never spoke like this then. So huskily, so low.

He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

You watched him. He watched you. You ran your tongue over your teeth, and Damian subtly adjusted his slacks from his pockets.

At the same time, you asked each other, “Would you like to get a drink?”

Your hiding place was a loveseat in the lounge, between more businessmen and their ditzy heirs. The bartender was your family’s, so he smiled and turned down your request for a drink, courtesy of your dad’s strictness. Luckily, he didn’t recognise Damian. You watched him order it at the bar, his rings catching the light, the muscle in his arms peeking out from under his blazer.

“I think he suspected I wasn’t of age, so he only gave me one.” He took the place next to you, propping his ankle on one knee and lounging out like a panther. Damian offered the cocktail to you, once he’d decided the coast was clear. It was a cute gesture. “Is that acceptable?”

You fished a five dollar bill out of your purse. “Only if you take this for paying. Don’t think I didn’t see you try and sneakily get that past me.”

Damian scrutinized the bill, then you, somehow managing to be a smartass without opening his mouth. Instead of thinking about how nice it would feel to kiss the slight crease between his brows, you traded hands with him so the bill was in his and the drink was in yours. The gentle brush of you palm to his knuckles put way too many butterflies in your belly.

You talked about everything and anything. About home, family life, your cities. The best of it was when Damian dipped his head so only you could hear him, keeping your secrets close and your bodies closer. This was the only way he talked about Robin, so you circled back to any vigilante subject you could think of just so Damian would keep purring into your ear like that. Better yet, he was smart. Talking to him was engaging, and within minutes he'd entranced you, so you sat there talking for more than an hour. Around you, the party rotated and went on.

At one point, you took a drink of the cocktail and passed it to him to share. Damian placed his lips right where yours had been, licking up the cocktail salt and gulping it down slow, adam’s apple bobbing, like it wasn’t the taste of the vodka he was savoring.

Eventually, your bliss was broken. Damian was called over to his father, again, to discuss business, and he left you with your remaining cocktail and the memory of that mission. You couldn’t find a reason to move from your seat. When you’d realized that you and Robin had been led into a trap on that mission, it’d been too late, and your efforts to escape became more and more futile. All you could do was pray the Titans got to you on time. Robin had offered you his glove as the walls closed in, and you’d watched up-close as he assumed you were both about to die. The fear in his eyes was strange - like it was familiar to him. At the same time, you cupped his neck and he held your upper back, and you’d kissed fervently, sweetly.

Damian had put his forehead to yours, and promised even as the trap shrunk around you, “You were excellent. More excellent than they ever said.”

In the big picture, it was a strange last remark to make, and afterwards you’d been too happy about surviving to think about it. But in the moment, you understood. You were understood. Somehow, Damian had reached into your soul and gouged out the words you’d been dying to hear, from your parents, from anyone, and uttered them to you with burning conviction. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe he meant it. Damian found you excellent. Someone, somewhere, didn’t think you were a failure.

Odd, how you’d never seen the face of the man you thought you’d die with (until now), and yet he saw you so easily. You watched him follow his father into the party crowd now, wondering. The Titans had saved you before you could ask what he’d meant. More importantly, before you could tell him the same. He was excellent.

Once you’d finished off your drink, you left it at the bar and grinned evilly at your family bartender. He rolled his eyes and slyly delivered you another, which, on your superhero schedule, would not have you drunk yet. Another heir to some big company was seated at your right, ignored by his father enough to look for some small talk with you.

He was one of the cute, nerdy types that were usually in awe of you. Girls, available girls, were typically rare at these kinds of parties, so he took you not having a boyfriend as permission to flirt with you. Unfortunately for him, your seat gave a perfect angle on Damian across the party floor. He was impressing the wives of Wayne business partners, who flocked around him like they’d flocked around you, pinching his cheeks. You could almost read their lips enough to guess what they were saying. What a handsome young man you are! Oh, Bruce must be so proud.

“...and then my father flipped over his kayak! Would you believe it? Two thousand dollars, thrown right in our family’s lake.” Your company snickered, howling at his own story.

You circled the rim of your glass, watching how Damian tried to teach some of the women phrases in Arabic. Unknown to them, they were some pretty funny swear words. It threw you into a bout of giggles, and the man next to you kept talking, spurred on by the noise.

The flock of hens around Damian receded, and his shoulders slouched in relief. That was cute, too. It wasn’t often that people understood how draining these parties were, but for people like you and Damian, it was a racetrack of endless, boring circles. Everything was a formality. Few things were genuine. Damian turned, and you caught his eye to let him know you were going to meet him. He nodded toward a side hall, his mouth a curious line again. If you looked at it long enough, it felt like a smile when he mouthed, escape?

Your company was still talking. He stopped when you grabbed his tie and planted a pity-kiss on his cheek, waving to him as you bounced away. “Sorry, kid. Not my type.”

You planned to bring Damian to the secluded balcony on the second floor to unwind, but instead, you were taken by the wrist and maneuvered into an empty powder room. It was colder than the steaming party air and smelled like champagne, with couches to sit on and mirrors to powder at. For a bathroom, the lights were warm and low. The noise of the party went quiet the instant the door was shut, like you and Damian had entered your own little world. No more circles. No more back and forth.

“Here,” Damian said, noting the mirrors. He tilted his head as he asked, like he was nervous, “Is this acceptable?”

“It is the ladies powder room, but I’ll give you a pass, since you’re cute.” You joked. Damian didn’t make a move to relax on one of the couches yet, hanging in front of you like there was more he wanted to say. There was more you wanted to say, too, but no good words came to mind.

But the silence wasn’t awkward. Again, Damian stared, and you stared. The glass he brought with him was set down. He put one fist on the counter beside the door, and like honey had been poured on your nerves, you realized how easy it would be for him to push you up against it. Kiss you senseless. Heat drooled off of him this close, and you wondered if he’d still lean in to whisper to you even if you were alone.

The lack of words drew to a point where something had to be said, anything, but his eyes felt so good on your skin and it was interesting to see him nervous. Something strange told you that Damian liked the silence, too.

You wet your lips with your tongue. Damian cleared his throat, and took a sip from his glass. “Was I interrupting something?”

“Between me and that guy?” You smiled gently, like you were reassuring him, and laughed to yourself. “Oh, man, you should’ve seen it, Damian. Poor kid really thought I was flirting with him. He’d totally convinced himself, it was hilarious.”

His profile was tense in the mirror, which you stole glances at to watch how the amber light played on his handsome skin. When Damian swallowed his drink, his throat rolled in the sexiest way, and immediately your mind fed you with visions of suckling, kissing, tonguing his neck.

“Why’d you ask?” Your eyes sparkled. Damian drew a step closer, and you used the opportunity to swipe a drop of alcohol from the corner of his lip with your thumb. “You jealous?”

It was the touch or the suggestion that made Damian pause. He didn’t stutter, but lagged over what to say, eyes vast and wanting as they raked over your face. “I don’t get jealous,” he clarified, “but… I do intend to be the only man to kiss you tonight.”

Damian’s hand took your chin. Your belly exploded with instant arousal, hitting you like a bullet of liquid lust. “You’re the only man who’s kissed me like that,” you whispered, taking his tie in hand. “I hope that’s always true.”

His voice had gone throaty. “May I kiss you again?”

Again, he reminded you.The two of you had kissed before, and it had been spectacular, terrifying, and excellent.

“Please,” you said, and Damian rushed to your aid.

Not a moment more was wasted. Curling his tie into your fist, you drew him in, slow and deep and wonderfully. Damian’s cologne hit you before his lips did, and both made your core throb for friction. Two broad hands slammed your hips into the door. His fingertips smoothed up the fabric of your dress, pressing you back and squeezing you in until you could feel his belt buckle against your belly. Damian was a sweet, magnetic kisser, chasing your lips like he was on a crusade to save them. Each time they met, he swam deeper. The point of his nose bumped against your cheek. You hummed your laugh against his lips, and Damian groaned as he pulled away, readjusting, twisting, testing the limits of the kiss. And you followed him at every step or more, revelling in his taste.

You didn’t want him to think you wanted the kiss to end, so you drew the hands braced under his blazer around his neck. Soon, that didn’t feel close enough, so you cupped each side of his face and pecked Damian until you were breathless. He brought you in until your arms were flat to his chest, the kiss almost vertical in its intensity.

He groaned when you parted, gasping and blinking just inches from your face. Your mouths were still connected by a thick string of drool, which hung until it split and clung to Damian’s chin and fell, marking a wet strip down into his collar. You panted, watching it go.

Damian left your waist to hold your wrists, keeping your hands around his face. He settled warmly into your touch, basking in it, and the pure enjoyment on his face made you smile. You wondered if anyone else had cared for him like this. If Damian had ever felt someone hold his face and treasure it. The thought gave you a strange urge, so you followed it.

You brought Damian’s brow level with your mouth and sweetly kissed his forehead. Then his nose bridge, then his temples. His face was so quickly warm that you giggled. In the most unsubtle way possible, Damian drew back his hips so you couldn’t feel the heat there, and closed his eyes, begging you to continue.

“I want you,” you whispered against his jaw.

Damian shivered. “You have me.”

You shifted one hand to his shoulder, giving yourself more room to nuzzle and kiss his neck. The line of drool was still there, so you cupped his skin and tilted his jaw up, and in one stroke, licked all the way to his earlobe. Damian’s moan poured from his mouth like a growing flood. You even felt his thighs press together between you, and pleasure tingled in your throat when he choked at the glide of your tongue.

He released your wrists, reached beside you, and locked the door with an audible click.

Then, Damian devoured you. Both hands hooked around your back, arching your chest into his, and finally, bringing his bulge between your hips. You clung to him for dear life, helpless as his teeth pressed into your neck like a vampire. Damian fed like one, too, suckling the skin there like he was starved. Your panties were so wet that you were desperate to get out of them, grinding your core against his.

Damian retreated, gasping. He licked the spit off of his lips and glared into your eyes. Bluntly, he said, “I want to eat you out.”

Once more, you kissed him, delirious with excitement. Your lungs burned for air, but your core burned harder for him. “Take off that suit and you can do whatever you want to me.”

His eyes gleamed. “I plan to.”

Quickly, you shoved your hands into his sleeves and pushed them off his shoulders, giving you a crisp glimpse at his carved shoulders. Damian's fingers blurred from button to button, but he saved the last for you on purpose. You worked in tandem and with little thought. If he could, Damian would steal a kiss, and you would bite his lip and chase him into more. When that last button was popped, his white button-down parted for a gorgeous plane of hard-earned muscle. His abs, ribs and pecs were pockmarked with scars, shrapnel marks and in some places, bullet holes. You stopped.

At your staring, Damian pressed his lips together.

“It's.. not appealing, I know,” he monotoned.

“No,” you disagreed, palming his stomach, “it’s impressive. All these do is show how strong you are, how long you've survived. You're so… built...” you didn't hide your thorough examination of him, “...I mean, we have to be to do what we do, but still… It suits you. It's sexy.”

You worried you'd ruined the moment with your babbling, but he glimmered under your praise. Damian brightened in the way only Damian could, smirking devilishly and towering over you like a supervillain.

“Sexy?” He pressed his naked chest into yours, whispering hotly in your ear. You could feel his silk tie pinned between you. “Does that mean I'm your type?”

You rolled your eyes. “Eavesdropper.”

“Temptress,” Damian replied, just as easily.

To claim your title, you found Damian's belt and pulled on it until the clasp gave. It made a satisfying whipping noise as you ripped it off of him, shouldered into his space to grab his waist in one hand, and cupped his throbbing boxers in the other. Damian's sigh came hoarsely and wanton from his mouth.

“Fuck me,” you demanded, grinning with delight.

Instead of wasting time on a response, Damian fell to his knees, a faithful worshipper. He did the gentlemanly thing and helped you kick off your heels. The tile was icy on your bare feet, but it only mattered until Damian ran his hands up your thighs. Sliding his fingers underneath the fabric, he bunched it up your middle, peering up at you smugly through his lashes. You could feel the debauchery of it - Damian, on his knees, tie hanging still from his neck, pinning you to the door. You, your legs spread and wanting.

Damian sucked in a breath. Your panties had an obvious wet patch, put there by him. He thumbed it carefully, watching your brows tense and your eyes close, basking in your initial whine. All of it enchanted him. You were soaking because of him, trembling because of him, marked because of him. There was not one place he would rather be than here.

Damian collected your sweetness and sampled the taste on his thumb, trapping it behind his smug smile. He ran his tongue over his teeth, spreading the flavor around his mouth, savoring it. As Damian rolled your underwear down your legs, his cock twitched in his open fly. You were beautiful. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“Put your leg over my shoulder,” Damian ordered, smirking, “I want to taste you.”

Warmth exploded in your cheeks. “G-go ahead.”

Gradually, you situated your leg across his back, pussy tensing at the touch of the cooler air. This didn't matter for long. Damian's warm lips nuzzled and kissed the thigh closest to him, painting messy reflective circles on your skin with his kiss. Even that made your legs tense wildly, so Damian shoving his wet, blazing tongue into the folds of you cunt pumped moan after moan from your mouth.

“Damian!” You yelped.

Oh, he definitely liked that. Damian pinched your ass and used his mouth so passionately that his head shook back and forth. He darted right for your clit, sucking it until his cheeks were hollow and humming smugly between your legs with every squeal. Parting your folds with one hand, Damian kissed your core just as dirtily as he'd kissed you. The dangerous glint in his eye never faded. He plunges his tongue inside you in earnest, slurping obscenely, purposefully. There's no need for Damian to shoot you cute looks or put on a show - his skill was the performance, because that skill was unbeatable. Your pussy was already tender, fucked nerveless by Damian's filthy mouth. He vibrated your cunt with a deep groan before he drew away, face dripping with slick like a pornstar’s.

“You're suitably wet,” he said, matter-of-factly, “would you like me to use my fingers?”

All the strength you had went into a weak, pleading nod.

Damian was polite enough to grant you your bearings first, letting you grip his hair and squeeze the counter before he resumes. You give him the sweetest, most precious whine when Damian licks you open again. He wisely starts with one finger and builds from there, earning you with pumps and curls of his digits. Damian's talents quickly become a currency, one that you exchange with mewls and pants of praise.

“So good,” you whine, “oh, fuck - fuck, just like that…”

Damian smirks between your legs, jamming his fingers faster into your sore pussy. Lust sizzles low in your gut, ramped up again and again by his thrusting. It’s so powerful that you roll and buck off the door, your hips in his face. You want him - want him more than you want anything.

“You're ravaging,” Damian hums between licks. His eyes are closed, but that only gives the way he touches you more meaning.

It’s so surprising from his mouth that your hold on his hair slips, setting Damian free. He pants, catching his breath, and it’s easily the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. The effort has slouched him from his knees to his calves, further spreading his legs and opening up the fly of his pants. A solid bulge has formed and spilled out there, straining to escape his briefs like an arm in a sling that’s too small, way too small, for someone of his size. Three of Damian’s fingers are still twisting inside of you.

Slowly, Damian tipped back his head and hung down, arranging himself beneath your cunt. “So beautiful.” His free hand splayed where your leg met your hip. “May I touch you?”

“I-I get it’s the gentleman thing to do, to - to keep asking, but fuck, Damian,” you cursed, “you can do whatever you want to me.”

Damian’s intense jade eyes were so dilated that you could barely make out the color. He dragged his cheek against your thigh, fingers still circling inside you, and grinned like a shark. It was probably a bad idea to give the heir to the Demon’s Head that much power over you.

His other hand squeezed your skin, slow to passionate, from your belly to your breasts beneath your dress. It’s clear by the way Damian looks at you that he loves what he sees. The texture of his veiny, calloused hands feels good on your waist and ass, dragging you closer to him. He chuckles when your back arches, when your nails press into his hands, his back muscles, throwing himself into his task. Damian’s nose prods your folds as he licks you clean, tongue dipping and sliding against your sore clit. It’s like he’s done this for you before, in this exact way. Though he utilizes his tongue the most, his lips too are brutal, matched perfectly to fit your pussy lips.

But that tongue - how Damian’s jaw isn’t tired, you don’t know. He parts your folds and latches onto your clit, flicking his tongue at superspeed until drool and cum bubbles from your sensitive core. Your back winds tighter at every vibrating lick, paralyzing the muscles in your legs with glorious pleasure. It’s so exquisite you start to melt to the floor like warm clay, only to be bolstered back up by Damian, both hands viciously squeezing your ass. He keeps going not for you, but himself, sucking down every last drop of your juices.

Shattered, you twist hopelessly into his mouth, chasing the strained feeling like it’s the last you’ll ever glimpse. “Fuck, fuck - D-Damian, ah…”

“Did it feel good when I made you cum?” He teases, “It certainly tastes good. All those filthy little noises you make for me…” Damian shakes his head at himself, like it’s too fantastic to indulge again. He leaves your clit with a satisfied kiss. “Beautiful.”

Once more, the words are surprising to hear from him. You always considered Damian the prude type, but here he is, on his knees for you, mouth and chin glittering with your juices while he teases you in low, sexy tones. At your surprised look, Damian has the gall to blush.

With his ring finger in his mouth, he ponders, “If a man has never said that to you before...” pop, “consider me surprised.”

“Never while finger-fucking me, at least,” you admited, legs still trembelling. “It was sweet. You… you meant that?”

It was hard to imagine Damian Wayne finding anything beautiful. Even you, who was pretty enamored with him, figured he would judge by quality or skill, not beauty. The words tasted new on his tongue.

Slowly, Damian stood and stretched, his shoulders tight after staying in the strange position for so long. Lifting his arms coincidentally let his waistband sit lower on his hips, flashing his green boxers your way while showing off the huge, carved muscles of his arms. Truly, Damian’s subtlety was unmatched. You didn’t mind his miniature bragging fest - not when he had so much to brag about. Eating you out had put an excited shimmer in his skin, so the gold-toned lights of the room reflected sexily off his sweat, already accenting his kissable tan.

“I did,” he told you, moving on to his sucking middle finger. His other hand played on your thigh, stroking it. “I’ve always been… drawn to you. Every mission we’ve had together. I have a profound feeling that we are very similar.”

You laughed. Not at what he said, but the timing of it. “Would you believe me if I said I felt the same way?”

Damian made a face like his heart was doing jumping jacks. “A few hours ago? No. But now…” he barricaded you against the door, first with his hands and then his hips, closed in so tightly that you had to look past your nose to meet his eyes. “Your crush is adorably obvious. I’m annoyed that I didn’t see it before.”

Your rounded your hands against Damian’s shoulders, then his tie. It twisted nicely around your fingers, silky and cold in comparison to your flushed skin. You were tempted to fix your dress, but nothing, not even the world ending, could make you leave this room.

“My crush is obvious? Damian, all you’ve done for the last two hours is sneak me drinks and imply how much easier it is to be around me.” You grinned, “What’d you say earlier? There you are, Queen. Finally, someone intelligent enough to speak to me.”

Damian shrugged. “It’s true. Your knowledge of bioluminescent ocean life is fascinating.”

“I can’t believe you said that after giving me head for ten minutes.”

“It’s actually been closer to twelve,” Damian smirked.

Playfully, you pinched Damian’s cheek, then pulled him by the tie into a starved, energetic kiss. He must’ve been praying for your permission to continue, because the plan he’d been forming is quickly put into action. You’re hugged, arms scooped under your back as you kiss him. Damian surrenders his mouth to a bit of revenge tonguing while undoing your dress. No amount of kissing will pull him from his task, but your hand is a special case - it smooths down the front of his boxers and Damian melts.

“Y/N,” he groans.

Damian petulantly resists the temptation to close his eyes, but your touch is soft and sweet, demanding him to yield. Your lips suckle on his neck and Damian’s knees buckle. If getting his mouth between your legs didn’t turn him on, then this will finish him for sure.

“I missed you. Kissing you.” You purr into his throat. “One could never be enough for me.”

Is this what it’s like to be wanted? Damian asked himself. The only possible answer thrilled him, and he found himself pouring even more passion into the kiss, into you, wanting to share that rush of affection. You respond to his every touch with vigor. Damian’s heart stalls each time your thumb strokes his face, each time the other strokes him through his slacks.

“Me either,” he rasped, and helped you out of your dress. His tone was shy, but his words held too much depth to be meaningless. I want a wealth of them. I always want to kiss you, was what he wanted to say, but Damian was too embarrassed to raise the words. This moment was too special to ruin with his hopeless romanticism. He kissed you again and again, and to his amazement, you kissed him right back.

“Fuck me,” you begged him between breaths. “Right here. I don’t care if we’re caught.”

I don’t care if we’re seen together. I want to be seen with you, I’m not ashamed of you.

Damian cupped your face and almost knocked you both over with the strength of his kiss. Nose-to-nose, eyes closed, he commanded, “Bend over the fucking counter.”

In a blink, Damian turned and there you were, open and waiting for him. The sink was hip-level, so the bend was nothing but perfect - Damian could fuck you from behind and watch your lust-blown reflection without issue. Your perfect pussy drooled leftover cum down your legs, making your sex shine in the light.

In the mirror, you watched Damian’s eyes darken in delight. His pupils followed the line of your ass to your back, appreciating it like an artist would, like he intended to paint you later and needed to memorize the greatest shapes of your figure. The marble was icy against your hard nipples, which Damian had exposed when he’d impatiently shoved down your bra. Now, he cupped one of your breasts as he bent over you, kissing and suckling his way down your back.

“Perfect,” Damian hissed.

Shyly pressing your butt back against him, you buried your face in your arms and bit your lip, waiting for him to open you up. Damian’s shadow came to hover over you, and in the mirror his eyes were vicious, pools of circling sharks. “Are you ready?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Take your time.”

Though you weren’t being sarcastic, Damian took it that way and pinched one cheek of your ass. “With you? I will.” Then, with the same smoothness, Damian asked, “Condom?”

“Pill,” you replied, and Damian nodded his approval.

His pants rustled as they fell down his legs. Where you couldn’t see, Damian committed the sight to memory - his cock in hand, your pussy spread open, all for him. You squeaked when his hot tip touched your cooling clit, and squeaked again when it glided down your pussy and tested your opening. He knew he’d found the way when you winced.

In an unsurprising moment of compassion (for those who truly knew him), Damian kissed the top of your head and offered you his hand. “Would you like to hold it while I…?”

You took his hand and squeezed it to your chest, squeezing him closer in the process, too. “Thank you. Go slow, for this part…”

Damian complied. His sweat-sticky chest hovered warmly over your back. Even if Damian was big, you were wetter than you’d ever been in your entire life - any pain would quickly slide into pleasure. He braced himself with a deep inhale, and a hot, sharp sensation told you that he’d entered you. Where you choked in a needy gasp, Damian poured out his version of a whimper. You both held it. Then, breath by breath, you were struck with the realization that you’d been dying to feel this for weeks, for months, and only now was that heat being satisfied. Damian’s tongue and fingers had come close, but this is what would cure that aching emptiness - his big, girthy cock.

The deathgrip you had on Damian’s hand loosened. “You look perfect,” he murmured into your hair, instantly making your core flutter. “Oh,” he chuckled filthily, “you like that? Funny, how badly that idiot at the bar wanted to be in my place right now…but it’s me who gets to pound into—”

“Damian,” you warned.

He smiled smugly against your neck. “Nothing.”

Dutifully, Damian withdrew his hips, taking all of the heat with him. When he rolled back in, a hot, tingling sensation roared over all of your senses, and you let the moan at the top of that tsunami loose. It was clear that he couldn’t fuck you like he wanted to with one hand fished down at your side, so he glued both to the base of your back and started to thrust in earnest.

“So full...” You mewled, and Damian became a human pile-driver.

Your head seemed to roll off your shoulders with every crazed, rhythmic slam, so you grabbed the faucet and held on for dear life. Every slap was so loud, so powerful, that you prayed this one random bathroom in the penthouse was soundproofed. Anyone walking past would know you were getting railed out of your mind. You tried to compensate by moaning and squeaking quietly, but with force came volume. It didn’t matter how silent you were, Damian’s hips, your ass, the squelch of him inside you - each noise filled the bathroom, echoing off the tile.

The only way you could think to describe him was filling. First, there was the hot, cinching tension of his hands fused to your waist. Then there was his cock, which begged to be squeezed more and more with every pass. You responded to each throb with a mighty clench, which bent Damian over you like an animal, gasping for breath. His balls were painted with your slick. The closer you came to orgasm together, the closer Damian came to you. His hands migrated to higher on your sides, then up by your shoulders, then around you, where Damian kissed your back and rubbed your belly while he made love to you. He talked more than he moaned. Your ear was filled with sweet nothings, with vicious promises of what he would do with a whole night alone with you.

Damian’s reflection was wild with lust. He met your eyes as he fucked you, whispering how beautiful you are, how good you take his dick. His deep green eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out the brown in them anymore. The long muscles on his arms drew taut with each thrust, making his biceps bulge and pin your hips to the sink. Soon enough, a bruise would form from the pressure. One of many treasures from tonight - you would be thinking about Damian in his crisp suit for months to come, and the mess he’d become with you now even longer. Your pleasure built and built and built, like a nail struck further into the ground with a hammer. A very, very big hammer.

“M’ cumming,” Damian husked, slowing his plowing to a sloppy glide. Even his endurance was spent, and you were glad he’d spent it all on you. “Where d’ you…?”

You braced your hands on the counter, then on one of Damian’s. Together, you smoothed his digits down your stomach and between your soft, abused folds. “Inside me, please, please please—” you begged him, “fuck, a-as deep as you can go.”

As a test of your flexibility, Damian turned in and kissed you. Just as he parted your lips with his tongue, he parted your folds with his fingertips, overriding your clit as his cock throbbed inside you to the hilt. He took the invitation as a command. Damian pressed in until you could feel his abs mold to your ass, then stuttered his hips in quick, agonized dips to get himself there. With his fingers and his cock putting stars in your eyes, you finished first.

The white marble counter fizzed in your vision, until all you could see was that powerful, endless white, humming in your mind’s eye. Still, Damian wasn’t finished yet. You bumped your temple against his chin and hummed, “Cum for me, baby… fuck, a-ah!”

Your pussy’s throb raced and raced until it spilled over, pulling Damian right under the current. One clench and he was done for, so the velvety, periodic squeeze of your cunt emptied his store. You hung there, spasming in unison, until that overwhelming heat spurted in a ring around Damian’s cock and flooded out of you. Only then did his fingers stop on your clit, and you settled warmly in each other's arms and tried to remember your names and who you were.

Damian pulled out, then snuggled back in. He would’ve been nervous any other time, but he’d just put his dick inside you, so a little instinctive cuddling could be forgiven. On shaky legs, you turned around and sunk into him. You could tell by how he was eyeing the sink that he was desperate to get clean again, so with one kiss (on the cheek), you set Damian loose.

In companionable silence, Damian cleaned up and you collected the clothes abandoned on the floor. Staring at the corner where you’d just had the best sex of your life put an embarassingly pleasant warmth in your chest. Interesting, how one terrifying moment could become something as special as this. Fascinating, how you’d felt like you’d known him all your life.

“You know… I think you’re excellent, too.” You told him, finishing off the knot for his tie.

Damian dipped his head to hide his smile, but something so bright was impossible to hide.

#damian wayne smut #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader smut #damian wayne x you #robin smut #robin #dc smut #dc comics #dc #user uncouth

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mountswhore · 3 years

Note

“Can you quit being sappy for five seconds?” with mason please thank you bestie

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 — mason mount

summary: getting ready for an event with mason proved to be harder than you thought

notes: short bc i had NO inspo

also requests are open <33

“God, this is hopeless.” You huffed, sitting at Mason’s pc, scrolling through a clothing website. You were attempting to find an outfit for Mason’s football dinner this weekend, and you were struggling. You’d spoken with Declan’s girlfriend, who was in the same boat as you, torn between a few dresses.

Mason had gotten home just as you were about to give up, perfect timing for the both of you. He’d trailed upstairs to see you sat at his desk, smiling as he approached you and pecked your temple. “What we looking at?”

“I’m just about to run your pc a nice bath,” you joked, head in your hands and sighing heavily, “I can’t find an outfit for your dinner event.” Mason’s hands were resting on your shoulders, pulling you back into him and wrapping his arms around you.

“I’m stuck between this dress,” you clicked on one tab, showing a black, corset dress, “this dress,” you clicked a different tab to show a burgundy corset dress, but more classy, “and this dress,” which was, of course, another corset dress but grey, sleeveless and strapless.

“I’m sensing a theme here.” Mason observed, fingers trailing along your collarbones as he flicked between the three tabs, “buy all three.”

“Absolutely not, Mason. I either have three gorgeous dresses and live in my car, or keep my flat and own one gorgeous dress.” You mentioned, flicking his hand that was trailing down your chest. He grabbed the back of his gaming chair, turning it around to face him, and leaning on both armrests as his face inched closer to yours.

“There’s a secret third option. Three gorgeous dresses that your handsome boyfriend buys for you, and getting rid of your tiny flat to live with said handsome boyfriend.” Mason spoke as if it were the most casual thing, and he couldn’t help but smile at the grin on your face.

“I don’t think I can quite manage living here for a weekend, let along full-time.” You joked, arms around your boyfriend as he lifted you up and held you, “you take up all the bed, eat all my chocolates, and spend all of your time in here.”

“That’s because you’re not here, I’d spend every second with you if you lived here.” Mason whispered, forehead touching yours and his grip still tight under your bum to hold you up properly.

“Even worse.”

“Shut up and buy those dresses.”

It was now time for the dinner event. It starting in just over two hours, and neither of you were ready. Mason had just gotten out of the shower, and you were ready to rip your hair from your scalp as it wasn’t styling the way you wanted it to. Mason watched in awe as you sat in front of his bedroom mirror, straightening your hair and curling the ends gently. You didn’t give him a definitive answer on the moving in situation, but you were still here even after five days, so he took it as a yes.

You hadn’t seen Mason since you shooed him away after staring at you for what felt like an hour. Your hair was finally perfect, your makeup just how you wanted it, and now you were doing up your shoes. You’d decided on the black dress, as it was a safe yet stunning choice. And Mason loved the look of it on you, daring to ruin the dress he just paid for.

Mason was sat comfortably on the couch, scrolling through his phone as he heard you coming down his stairs. His phone long forgotten now, he’d stood up and approached you, getting a better look. “Where’s Y/N gone?”

“Fuck off,” you smiled, cheeks turning red as his hand slid down your side, his eyes admiring the corset on you, “where is your tie?”

“Oh, I decided to go without it because I can’t do it.” He reasoned, gesturing to the crumpled up tie on the floor of the living room. You strutted over to it, giving Mason a show as you bent down to pick it up.

“You’re gorgeous.” Mason mumbled down at you, hands on your hips as you wrapped the tie under his collar. As much as you loved being showered with compliments, Mason was shifting around a lot as he spoke, making it impossible to do his tie.

“I should’ve proposed before this event, the boys will go crazy for you.” Mason kept going, this phrase making your knees almost buckle.

“I can’t believe you’re my girlfriend. You’re so pretty.”

“Can you quit being sappy for five seconds?” You sighed, grabbing his hands from your hips and placing them at his side. He smirked down at you, mouth shut for the remainder of the time it took to finish his tie. “Thank you, now let’s go.”

#mm19 #mase #mason mount one shot #mason mount request #money mase #mason mount x reader #mason mount smut #mason mount imagine #mason mount blurb #mason mount

393 notes · View notes

leossmoonn · 3 years

Text

One Day at A Time

masterlist

pairing - lip gallagher x fem!reader

type - angst, fluff

note / request - “Hi, I love your Shameless imagines! And I was wondering if you could write something for Lip Gallagher x Reader having a baby and struggling with their new life ❤️” alright so i named the baby fred bc thats lip’s baby’s name already lol also you and lip live in the house that lip wanted to buy for tammy. enjoy!

summary - you and lip struggle to raise a baby and survive

warning / includes - language, fighting, alcohol, smoking, but fluffy ending

————

*gif isn’t mine*

“Lip!” You shouted.

Your boyfriend ran into the room frantically. “What’s wrong?”

“I need you to get me more baby wipes. Freddy took a big shit,” you instructed.

Lip nodded, going to the table where you kept the baby wipes. He gave you the whole packet only for you to yell at him.

“Hand me them! I have to hold Freddy down so we doesn’t roll off,” you said.

“Sorry, Jesus,” Lip muttered, handing you baby wipes each time you put your hand out.

You successfully cleaned your baby’s bottom and but on a new, fresh diaper. You picked Freddy and went downstairs with him. You set Freddy down in his high-chair, going over to the cabinet to get Freddy’s baby food.

“Are you um, are you going into work today?” Lip asked.

“Yeah, are you?” You asked.

“Yeah, I am,” Lip said.

You frowned, turning around and putting a hand on your hip. “You can’t. Someone has to watch Freddy.”

“Debbie can watch Freddy,” Lip said.

You scoffed, “She's never here. And before you say V and Kev, they’ve already helped us enough the past few months. They’re busy with their own kids.”

“Well, I need to go into work. We need the money,” Lip said.

“Yeah, and I need to go to work or I’m gonna get fired!” You exclaimed. You began feeding Freddy, your mood lightening a little once you saw the little guy’s face.

“What about working tomorrow? I thought that was our schedule,” Lip asked.

“It was, but one, I’m well overdue on maternity leave and two, my boss doesn’t care about my personal life. She doesn’t care that we are struggling to raise a child,” you explained.

Lip opened his mouth to suggest something, but nothing came out. He looked at you helplessly.

“Here, why don’t you work for a few hours and I’ll watch Freddy in the morning, then you come back home at lunch and I’ll go and work for the afternoon,” you said.

Lip nodded. “Yeah, that works.”

“Alright, good,” you said. You turned your attention back to the baby, feeding him the rest of his breakfast. Meanwhile, Lip went to shower and get ready to go to work. He came downstairs, coming over to bid you and Freddy goodbye.

“I’ll see you later. I love you,” Lip said, giving you a hug and a kiss on the forehead.

Even though you were mad at him earlier, you melted into his arms immediately. You hugged him back tightly, burying your head in the crook of his neck.

“Hm, I love you, too,” you said, breathing in his scent.

Lip couldn’t help but smile at your actions. He pulled away after a few moments, walking over to Freddy.

“I love you, too, buddy,” Lip cooed, kissing Freddy on the cheek, making the baby giggle.

You smiled at the scene, enjoying seeing Lip interact with Freddy.

“Bye,” Lip called out before leaving.

“Bye!” You exclaimed, watching him leave.

You let out a long sigh, leaning back against the fridge. You looked at Freddy, who was clapping his hands on his high-chair table. You laughed a little.

“You’re so silly,” you said, going over to him and picking him up.

“Do you want to go to the store with me?” You talked to Freddy, bouncing him up and down while walking across the room.

Freddy make a little squeak and you smiled. “Yeah, I know you want go to the store with me. I’m gonna shower and get ready, you stay in the crib, okay? I’ll be out in 10 minutes,” you said, going up to the nursery and setting Freddy down gently.

You went into the bathroom, taking a quick shower and brushing your teeth. You went back in your room and got dressed into a pair of mom jeans, a dark-purple, buttoned-up shirt and put a grey sweater over it, taking the collar of your shirt and folding it on the collar of your sweater. You then returned to Freddy’s room. You saw him on his back, sucking in his thumb. You smiled and picked him up, quietly going down the stairs. You set him in his high-chair again, getting your coat, purse, and your shoes. You also got Freddy’s little coat and hat to keep him warm in the cold winter of Chicago.

You went out to your car, buckling Freddy into his carseat. You then went to the supermarket, putting Freddy in the front of the cart. You picked out fruit, vegetables, and salad mix. You got 2 gallons of milk, new coffee creamer, and cereal. You bought a few warm-up dinner packs and hamburger meat, going to the freezer isle and getting ice cream. You then went to the snack isle.

“What should we get, Freddy?” You asked, looking at the pop tarts.

Freddy pointed to the birthday cake-flavoured pop tarts.

“Good choice, baby,” you smiled, grabbing the pop tarts. You then grabbed a few packs of chips and gum, going over to check out.

“Cute baby,” the girl at the register said.

You looked up from putting the groceries on the table. You looked at her name tag and smiled.

“Thank you, Stacy,” you said. “How old is he?” Stacy asked.

“Almost 2 months,” you said.

“Awe, so cute. I just found out I’m pregnant,” Stacy said.

“Oh, really. Congrats,” you smiled. “Yeah, my boyfriend and I are happy,” Stacy smiled, putting her hand on her stomach.

She rang your groceries up. “It’ll be $103.98.”

You nodded and took your card out and a few coupons you and Lip had collected in the past month.

“Alright, with these coupons, your total is $80.56,” Stacey said.

“Great,” you smiled. You paid with your card, gathering the grocery bags.

“Have a good day!” Stacy smiled.

“Thank you, you too. Congrats again with the baby,” you gave her a kind smile.

She thanked you as you walked out. You loaded the groceries into the car and put Freddy back in his carseat. You then drove back home, putting away the groceries while Freddy watched you in his high-chair.

“Are you tired, baby? I’m tired,” you yawned. Freddy yawned right after you, making you chuckle.

“Why don’t you take a nap and let Mommy clean the house, okay? It’s a fucking mess,” you muttered the curse words, looking around the house. Clothes and toys were everywhere. Plates were stacked in the sink and on the coffee table. The house needed to be vacuumed and wiped down very badly

You put Freddy down in his crib, turning on the baby monitor. You changed into a tank top and shorts and put your hair in a ponytail, going back downstairs to clean.

You started with the dishes, washing and drying them off, putting them back in their cupboards. You then wiped down the kitchen counter, stove top, kitchen table, and coffee table. Next you decided to clean up all of the baby stuff that was on the floor. You put Freddy’s toys in the play bins you and Lip had bought and put Freddy’s clothes in the washing machine. You then vacuumed the living room carpet and swept the kitchen tiles, making yourself another cup of coffee. You were done in an hour and a half, taking a look at your work, smiling in satisfaction. Your house hadn’t been this clean since you and Lip had bought it.

It was lunch time and you knew Lip would be coming home soon. You decided to make you and him lunch. You made chilli and salad, knowing that it would last you two for a few days. You changed back into your work uniform before grabbing yourself a bowl and sitting down, eating your lunch quickly before you had to go to work.

15 minutes later, Lip had walked through the door. You got up to greet him.

“Hey, babe. This smells good, what did you make?” Lip asked. “Chilli and salad for lunch. You can have some,” you said.

“Ah, nice,” Lip said. He gave you a kiss on the cheek, going over to the kitchen. You frowned. He usually wasn’t this detached.

“How was work?” You asked.

“Good,” Lip said, grabbing himself a bowl of chilli. “How was your day?”

“Good,” you said. “ I um… I cleaned the house and got groceries.”

“Oh, nice,” Lip said, sitting down.

"Are you okay?” You asked.

“Yeah, I’m just tired,” Lip said.

“Um, okay,” you said. “Well, Freddy is upstairs taking a nap. He’s been asleep for about two hours, so he will probably wake up soon. The baby monitor is here. When he wakes up can you give him a bath? He’s a little stinky.”

“Sure,” Lip nodded.

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to figure out why he was acting so off.

“I gotta go to work. I'll see you later, okay?” You said.

“Okay. Have fun,” Lip said.

You slammed the front door shut and walked to your car, letting out a long sigh. You wanted to ask why Lip was acting so distant, but you knew you had to go to work. You worked as a waitress at a local diner. You had been working there for the past 3 years. You hoped to be moving jobs to what you really wanted to do, which was cosmetics, but having a baby set you back a little. You were so thankful for Freddy, though, you didn’t regret having him one bit. It just sucked a lot. But you were good at your job. you were friendly to customers and co-workers, got the most tips, and never played around. You were your boss’s best waitress, despite you always having to change your shifts.

You worked from 1 pm to 9, going back home tired, but happy you at least got a shift in. You drove home, looking forward to seeing Lip and Freddy, but once you got in the door, your excitement immediately diminished.

Freddy was in his play pen and the person who was watching him wasn’t Lip. It was Carl.

“Um, hey, Carl,” you frowned, setting your coat in the closet.

Carl turned to you, a nervous smile on his face. “Hey, Y/n. How’re you?”

“Good, thanks. Where is Lip?” You asked, putting your hands on your hips.

“He went out,” Carl answered.

“To where?” You asked, your temper rising. “Um…. to the Alibi,” Carl said nervously.

Your eyes blew wide. “What?! He went to the Alibi and left you to take care of our baby? No offense, Carl.”

“None taken,” Carl shrugged.

“I…” you started to say. You put your fingers on your temples, rubbing in circles to try and ease the headache you were beginning to have. You were able to calm down a little.

“Thank you for taking care of Freddy,” you said to Carl.

“No problem. I love the little guy,” Carl smiled.

You smiled back, grabbing your purse. “Here, let me pay you for watching him.”

“I would usually say yes to money, but I’ll say no this time. I like spending time with Freddy, he's my nephew, I like watching him,” Carl shrugged.

“Are you sure?” You asked, holding a 20 dollar bill.

“Yeah, I am,” Carl smiled kindly.

“Alright. Thank you. I’m going to find Lip. Do you mind staying until I come back?” You asked.

“Nope. Can I have some of the chilli?” Carl asked.

“Yeah, of course. Do you know how to change diapers and feed Freddy?” You asked.

“Yeah, of course. I took care of Liam and Franny for Debbie sometimes,” Carl said.

“Right, of course,” you chuckled. “Thanks, again. I’ll see you later.”

“See you,” Carl waved.

You didn’t bother grabbing your coat, rushing out of the house to find Lip. You drove to the Alibi, parking haphazardly. You went in, anger surging through you as you saw Lip smoking and drinking his liver and lungs out. He was talking with Kermit and Tommy.

“Lip!” You screamed, the whole room turning going quiet.

“Oh, hey, Y/n!” Kev smiled.

“Hey, Kev. Can I see Lip for a second?” You asked, clenching your jaw.

Lip looked at you, his eyes dropping. “Hey, baby.” He walked up to you, a stoned smile on his face.

You grabbed his hand, yanking him out to the alley behind the Alibi.

“What's up?” Lip asked.

“You! That’s what’s up!” You exclaimed.

“What do you mean?” Lip asked.

“You fucking left Freddy alone!” You shouted. “I left him with Carl. He’s fine,” Lip shrugged.

“Yeah, but you didn’t call me to say you were going to leave Freddy!”

Lip glared at you. “I don’t need to call you. He’s my son.”

“He’s my son, too! I’m his mother. I need to know who he is with! What if Carl brought over Kelly and they started having sex on the couch where Freddy could see, huh? I don’t fucking want that!”

Lip chuckled. “They wouldn’t do that. Carl and Kelly are broken up or whatever.”

You groaned. “That’s not the point! I’m tired and super stressed out. You could have let me know!”

“I’m tired and stressed out, too!” Lip exclaimed.

“Oh, yeah, I bet you are. Getting fucking drunk and stoned,” you laughed sourly.

“I’m not drunk, I had 2 sips of beer, and I worked!” Lip exclaimed.

“Yeah? Well I worked, too! I worked until 9 at night. I should be home by then! And I was the one who cleaned the house and did the dishes and got the groceries, which by the way, you are fucking welcome!” You shouted.

“I never asked you to do that,” Lip said.

“i know, but I did it because we needed it. All I wanted was a thank you!” “Well I was tired and hungry when I got home,” Lip shrugged.

You glared at him, tears clouding your vision. “You’re so full of shit, Lip. So full of fucking shit!” You screamed, pushing him back. He stumbled backwards and hit the brick wall gently.

“What the fuck, Y/n?!” Lip yelled.

“Don’t do that! You don’t have the right to question me!” You screamed back.

Lip opened his mouth to yell back, but Veronica and Kevin came out.

“Hey, you two stop it!” Veronica yelled.

“Yeah, what’s going on?” Kevin asked.

“She is yelling at me!” Lip pointed to you.

“Yeah, cause you’re a fucking asshole!” You screamed, your voice hoarse and tears running down your face.

“Oh, no,” Veronica muttered. She went over to you, wrapping her arms around you gently. “Let’s go inside and get you some tea, okay?”

You started to sob, leaning in to Veronica. Lip looked at you, his heart breaking at the sight of you so upset.

“Kev, you take Lip home and get him cleaned up, okay? Make sure Freddy is fed and changed and put to bed, too,” Veronica instructed.

Kevin nodded, putting his arm around Lip and went to Lip’s car. Veronica walked you inside, taking you to the back of the bar. She got you a beer and a hot cup of tea, placing them in front of you.

“T-Thanks,” you sniffled.

“Talk to me, baby,” Veronica said, sitting down next to you.

“Lip left Freddy home alone with Carl. I’ve been so busy and tired today. I cleaned the whole house, got the groceries. I worked for fucking 8 hours. I just wanted a little ‘thank you’ from Lip. That’s all I wanted,” you cried. “God, I’m such a fucking crybaby.”

Veronica put her hand on your arm comfortingly. “No, honey, you’re not. I understand, don’t worry, and Lip should, too. Maybe you should calm down a little and then go back home and talk to him. Really talk, no shouting and pushing.”

You took a big sip of your beer and nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good plan.”

Veronica smiled. “Do you want anything to eat?”

“No, I’m fine,” you said.

“You sure? We have some chocolate chip cookies,” Veronica smiled.

“Hm, okay. I'll have a few,” you smiled.

“Great!” Veronica squealed. She went away for a few moments, coming back with a container full of cookies.

You sat and talked with Veronica for two hours. You soon were about to pass out and decided to drive you and Veronica home since Kevin had taken their car.

“Thanks for the fun night, V,” you smiled at Veronica as you dropped her back to her house.

“No problem! Drive home safe! Call if you need anything,” Veronica said.

“Will do,” you said and drove back home, which was thankfully only 5 minutes away.

You got home, going in and seeing the living room empty. You took off your shoes, groaning in relief as your heels had been aching the whole day. You trudged up the stairs and into your bedroom. You heard the shower going but didn’t bother to go and see Lip.

You changed out of your work clothes and into a pair of shorts and a tank top. You put your hair in a messy bun, flinging yourself on your bed.

Lip came into the room with Freddy a few moments later. You noticed his presence.

“What?” You snapped.

“I just… do you want Freddy and I to lay down with you?” Lip asked.

You looked to them, seeing Freddy smiling at you. You couldn’t help but smile back. “Sure.”

You scooted over, Lip setting Freddy down next to you and climbing into bed with you. You gave Freddy a big kiss.

“Hi, baby. I’ve missed you,” you cooed.

Freddy chortled, clapping his hands. You giggled with the baby, ignoring Lip until he spoke.

“So uh… how was your day?” Lip asked nervously.

“Fine. How was yours?” You asked, not looking at him.

“Mine was uh… good,” Lip said.

“Good,” you said shortly.

There was an awkward silence between you two before Lip spoke again.

“I wanted to apologise for my actions today,” Lip started to say.

This was the first time you felt like looking at him. You stared in his blue eyes, waiting for his apology.

“I’m sorry about ignoring the work you did around the house and I’m sorry for not letting you know I was having Carl take care of Freddy. And I’m sorry for going to the Alibi and getting stoned. I really appreciate you cleaning the house. It really needed to be cleaned and to keep it clean, I promise to try and not leave dishes out and pick up Freddy’s toys,” Lip said.

You smiled at his apology, scooting up on the bed so you could put your forehead on his without crushing Freddy.

“Thank you. And the house being messy isn’t totally your fault. I need to learn to clean up after myself more, too,” you said.

Lip chuckled, “That’s something we can both work on then.”

“Totally,” you smiled.

“I’m also sorry for yelling at you at the Alibi. I’ve just been so stressed with work and Freddy. I’ve never had to take care of a baby that was my own before. I’ve always had help from Fiona and Ian,” Lip said.

You put your hand on his cheek. “I know, baby. This is all new for me, too. And I’m sorry for yelling at you, too, you didn’t deserve that.”

“It’s alright. I kinda did,” Lip chuckled.

You rolled your eyes with a smile “Well anyways, we’ll get through this together, okay? I love you. So, so, so much. And I love Freddy, probably a little too much,” you joked. “Let’s just take this one day at a time okay?”

Lip nodded and pressed his lips against yours softly. You kissed him back before pulling away, making sure Freddy was okay.

Lip smiled. “I love you, too, you know.”

You looked back up to Lip with a big smile. “Yeah, I know.”

————

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hansolmates · 4 years

Text

a hero’s journey (m)

summary; jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story pairing; jungkook x editor!reader (f) genre/warnings; best friend’s boyfriend au, slice of life, angst with a happy ending because im weak, pining pINING, everyone’s kind of a mess in their own sweet special way, alcohol use, mentions of ze weed, toxic relationships, mean friends, sex—slight dom!kook, food play, fingering, squirting, heavy use of the petname “pretty girl” bc im weak, strength kink, manhandling (oop!) w.c; 22.2k a/n; woof! my first fic for @goldenclosetnetwork 23 | jungkook’s birthday project! this goes out to all the closet romantics *ahem me cough* who doesn’t love pining between a cutie koo? a huge thank u for vivi @eerieedits for making this bbbBEAUTIFUL fic banner!

prompt used: “I should’ve known.”

if you like this fic pls consider giving a like n’share🥺💜🥺💜

It’s so easy to ignore the world.

Maybe it’s a young-adult thing, but it gets difficult fitting into the 9-to-5 and playing to satisfy bosses that don’t entirely understand your work ethic. Maybe it’s out of complacency, or fear. But you prefer to let the world flow around you and when you’re needed, you’ll act. You’ve reached that point in your life where you enjoy the little things, satisfied by an extra hour of overtime tacked onto your paycheck, a new fabric softener, or finding the perfectly squishy yoga mat.

You’ve finally started feeling comfortable in your shoes, uncaring as to whether you’re single or drowning in college debt, happy to live a relatively stable life. You’re grateful. There’s nothing more than you need than your happiness, and the love of your friends and family.

Namely, your best friend from college. Jisoo always joked about how you two “won the lottery” as dorm rooms in freshman year were determined by lottery. Pulling numbers 883 and 884, you and Jisoo snagged a corner spot of the dormitory, leaving you two utterly cramped but utterly close as the years went by. Six years later and it’s still the case, the two of you have grown into talented working ladies. While you may not be able to spend time with each other the same way you did in school, you still care for each other.

So when Jisoo shows up teary with a rumpled dress shirt and her hair waterfalling out of this morning’s bun, you break out the good alcohol and season three of Jane the Virgin for her.

After the liquid is warm in your cheeks and you’ve fawned enough over Micheal and Rafael’s love triangle, you let Jisoo ramble.

Jisoo has downed a whole bottle of soju on her own, while you’ve decided to have a tasteful glass of wine. You’d rather be tired wine drunk than wasted on soju.

“Jungkook and I had a fight,” she warbles, stuffing a handful of popcorn in her mouth, “it was totally stupid.”

Your eyes flash, picturing Jisoo and Jungkook in quarrel. They’re the epitome of an Instagram-worthy couple, beautiful and deathly charming to a fault. They show nothing but kindness and sweetness to you whenever you third-wheel, not a lick of anger between them when you’re all together.

So a fight is something surprising. Jisoo and Jungkook, J-squared are a power couple. Saying their names next to each other just emits a sort of energy you can only akin to famous small screen couples like Troy and Gabriella or Cory and Topanga. Jisoo’s Instagram is belly full with sweet selfies of them together, the doe-eyed man always looking completely sweet and gentle to the woman in his arms.

You never piqued Jungkook as the type of guy who would pick a “stupid fight.” And you know Jungkook pretty well.

Maybe a little too well.

“He surprised me during my lunch break and he caught me talking to Doyoung and he thought I was flirting,” Jisoo is practically eating her sweater, her head falling between her flannel pyjama sleeves.

“Doyoung, as in your ex Doyoung?” you raise a brow.

She groans, glaring at you in earnest. “Not you, too! I told him it was ridiculous to get jealous, and then I told him how jealous I get when he’s around girls and I don’t need to tell him that,” she rolls her eyes, twisting her feet petulantly in her fuzzy socks, “but then you know what he says back?”

You wince, swirling your wine glass, “That you’re crazy?”

“That I’m crazy, exactly! How did you—” her bloodshot eyes zero in on you, where you’ve tucked yourself in the corner of the couch. You swirl the ruby liquid in your cup, watching the feet web around the cheap crystal, “you think I’m crazy too, don’t you?”

You swallow your sigh, taking your time to finish your liquid in languid sips. Uneasy, you wish you could just sink through the couch in order to avoid this conversation. Jisoo’s heart is generally in the right direction, but in terms of emotions she has the kind of sensitivity that you prefer to ignore rather than tread. Jungkook is also equally emotional, but in a different way. He wears his heart on his sleeve, preferring to keep things straight as opposed to bottling it up like Jisoo.

However the theoretic bottle has reached it’s brim and Jisoo’s tipping, fast.

“I need to tell you something,” Jisoo is swerving, crawling like an infant on wobbly limbs to reach your corner of the couch. You almost stop her, tell her you can continue this conversation in the morning, it’s what you normally do when she drinks into a stupor. But tears are swimming in her glassy caramel eyes and she’s grappling onto your blanket, resting her head in her lap.

Her glossy russet strands curtain her head, so you don’t see the expression on her face when she says her next words:

“Jungkook told me he liked you senior year, and I told him you weren’t interested so I’d have a chance.”

Wow. So that explains everything.

The memories that you’ve tried so hard to brush away, the feelings you’ve tried so hard and continue to try to suppress, are laid out in front of you on a rusted platter. You could laugh, you could fling the rest of the Pinot Grigio down your throat like fresh water on a hot day and call it a night.

But instead you choke back your tears, and push her off because you’re hurt.

Deep down you know you would’ve been less upset if she told you the week after Jisoo and Jungkook called it official. If you knew from the beginning, it would’ve been easier on your heart. But it's been over two years since the past, thinking you’ve been needlessly, stupidly, delusional in thinking that you could’ve possibly had a chance with Jungkook.

Because it could’ve been you. And the reason why Jisoo and Jungkook fought today? Now you know it’s because deep down, they know they’re each other’s second choice.

You can’t even recall a time where Jungkook and Jisoo were together alone before they suddenly started dating, remembering how it used to be you and Jungkook before Jisoo found him one day in your shared apartment, utterly smitten. And now you know you weren’t delusional, because the feelings and the signals you two were exchanging in senior year was real.

But it doesn’t stop the fact that over two years have passed. Two years of a serious relationship between Jisoo and Jungkook, and two years of you secretly loving him from an arm’s length.

“You hate me,” Jisoo removes herself from you, voice trembling. The quick, dark part of your mind wants you to snap back of course I hate you. You’ve trusted Jisoo with your life all these years, she was the reason you got through college so gracefully, why you enjoyed the past seven years of your life.

But the sentiment is stained, and all you can do is deliver a tired smile and stand up. “I don’t hate you,” you say, “I’m just, really overwhelmed. I can’t lie and say that I’m not hurt,” your fingers clutch the fake crystal in your grasp, and for once you’re thankful you’re not strong enough to break it, “but you two love each other now and there’s no point in dwelling in the ‘what-ifs’.”

Now that you think about it, when was the last time Jisoo treated you like a best friend? You stare at your wine glass, thinking that the only time comfort is provided in this apartment is when Jisoo is upset, never when you’re upset.

Jisoo bobs her head senselessly, agreeing to every word. It’s pathetic, seeing her on her knees and her eyes glimmering with the hope that you’d forgive her straightaway. She must feel awful. That’s good.

You sigh, needing to be the bigger person. “You need to call Jungkook and tell him he has nothing to worry about though, after all, you two have history now. As much, if not more than Doyoung.”

“Right,” she replies, biting her lip. It suddenly feels like you're talking to a wall, carrying a conversation that's long ended.

“As for us,” you have half a mind to slam your glass on the counter, but instead you give it a heavy hand, letting slowly thump to the coffee table, “I don’t think I want to see you two, for a while.”

“Understandable.”

“And I don’t want to help you move out anymore,” I just want you gone.

“Right,” she whispers. The both of you will be completed with your lease in two months, and Jisoo and Jungkook have decided to move into Jungkook’s apartment. As for you, you haven’t decided as to whether you want to go through the whole process of moving out or looking for a new roommate.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so fucking sorry. I just was insecure as fuck in college and Jungkook was the first person I met in a long time that helped me feel more… like me.”

You want to say that she's right, she’s selfish. Her excuses aren’t palpable anymore. It’s too late. But if you were in Jisoo’s shoes, you’d think this apology is mere crumbs in comparison to your friendship. Why isn't she trying harder? Maybe because she doesn't know any better. After all, you never told her what you felt for him has morphed into love.

You don’t even have to ask as to whether she’ll tell Jungkook this or not, you now know honesty is not her style.

Jisoo doesn’t get a goodnight and a drunken kiss on the forehead like she usually does whenever you two have your late night talks. Instead, she seals herself to her own demise as you slam the door to your bedroom, effectively shutting each other out.

Work is a bitch the following morning. You’re like molasses, rolling out of bed despite the whole world and its mother telling you to go back to sleep.

Your feet are killing you as you make your walk to work, deciding to wear a pair of red-backed heels so you can stomp your way through your day.

Your Wusband (Work-Husband) Kim Namjoon matches you step-for-step, eyes glued to his phone as he catches you on the sidewalk. “Woman on a mission,” he comments absentmindedly, eyes glued to his phone as he follows the click of your shoes to your favorite cafe.

You spare a glance to your right hand-man, eyeing him appreciatively at his dedication to your morning routine. He’s your favorite co-worker, one who keeps you on time to your meetings and keeps you sane when you want to pull your hair out and dig out a coffin in your little cubicle. Namjoon’s long legs always seem to catch up with you during your workweek, whether it’s to get coffee in the morning or to talk shit about the latest gossip in the breakroom.

The bell of the glass door tinkles in your ears as you enter the café, relatively busy for the morning rush. While you wait in line, Namjoon ticks off your activity list for today.

“Meeting with Victoria is cancelled this morning,” you groan in relief, your supervisor Victoria always scares the shit out of you even when she’s not doing anything, “and just the usual proofing and whatever we have to do on the third floor today—can I get a large iced Americano with a pump of caramel? Thanks,” Namjoon moves aside so you can throw your order in as well, “and after work could you stop by Vernon’s? He took a sick day today and he has most of the manuscripts for the next issue.”

“Done and done,” you swipe your card in the dip, tucking your card away in your zippered pouch. “So like, do Americanos taste any good? Like it’s literally watered down espresso how do you pay to drink watered down tar—”

Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter. Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter swirling stray sugar crystals with his thumb and putting them in his napkin. What an impeccable display of Virgo energy, absentmindedly cleaning things he has no business doing. You scoff to yourself, recalling this morning that Jisoo got off the phone this morning with a stupid smile on her face. From the mirror image that Jungkook is excluding while he’s smiling on his cellphone like a smitten teenager, it seems like they’ve made up.

Nevertheless the hurt from last night is still fresh in your bones, and you force yourself to look away despite the fact that your morning pick-me-ups are almost done and are sitting tauntingly next to Jungkook’s elbow. Does he really need to learn against the counter like he owns it? Hair slightly damp from the shower, your heart beats a little faster at the fresh image.His biceps are straining against his charcoal lycra long sleeve, which is slightly damp from his morning run. Snap out of it! You are a mature, working woman who does not swoon in the view of bulgy muscles, especially when the man who owns those muscles is taken. Suddenly there’s a call of your name, and two cups and a paper bag are put in front of Jungkook.

He blinks, and you immediately pale when you see his eyes flit over your name surrounded by your favorite coral pink beverage. You feel struck as his head perks up at the name and he narrowly makes eye-contact—

“The fuck you’re doing,” Namjoon gripes, shoving your guava iced tea and croissant in your chest, “standing there like a moron as if we don’t got shit to do today.”

“Sorry,” you mumble, pulling at the brown paper bag to tug a piece of croissant between your teeth. The warmth, buttery pastry melts in your tastebuds. Ah, bread. Nothing like a little bit of carb to make you feel better.

You’re suddenly thankful for Namjoon’s gargantuan torso from effectively blocking you from Jungkook, hauling you out of the coffee shop like a petulant toddler. He doesn’t even give you a chance to catch another secret look at the object of your affections, making sure you’re back in your work game before you enter the building. Even if he doesn’t know it, Kim Namjoon’s always got your back.

Or in today’s case, breathing down your back.

Without your third editor and a hard deadline coming up by the end of the week, you and Namjoon are working in tandem throughout your 9-5 to complete drafts for Big Hit Publishings Arts & Media section. Both of you take turns to bring snacks and feed each other, feeling like reading zombies and slaves to your desk as you remind each other to breathe throughout the whole ordeal.

In complete honesty you don’t totally mind. Namjoon is a great partner-in-crime, and you both love what you do and do a damn good job at it. You call it “Buzzfeed but with Benefits.”

And at least for today, you could quell the feelings in your chest from last night and this morning. Sure, you’ve always been okay with the pining you’ve had for Jungkook. The feeling comes and goes whenever it pleases, and since yesterday you’ve been okay with just admiring from afar and being their third wheel.

However, now the feelings are acutely comparable to a third-degree burn with the help of Jisoo playing with fire.

With a quiet exhale, you concede in your gaming chair (because it’s just so damn comfy to keep in the office.) You’re an adult and not a petty child, and you will not let this piece of information derail you from your calm, stable lifestyle.

But honestly? Fuck Jisoo.

“Let’s go, buckaroo,” Namjoon logs off for you, the cinnamon-y smell of his shampoo effectively waking up your senses, “it’s already 5:30. And you said you’d stop by Vern’s to get his drafts.”

“Right,” you blurt, mindlessly putting away your papers and snack wrappers in your bag. You can’t believe the whole day’s gone already.

“Maybe you don’t even have to go to his apartment. Just text him or whatever.”

“Sounds good, thanks Joonie.”

“And y/n?” Namjoon gives you a look that causes you to force a terse smile, one you give one too many times to higher-ups at work. It isn’t to insult Namjoon by any means, but you guys are partners, the kind that tell way too much but hide just enough to remain close from afar. “Take it easy, will you?”

“I will,” you concede, stretching your arms, “I’m def overdue for a massage.”

“You don’t look sick,” you scoff, taking in the casual look your co-editor boasts as he leans casually against the doorway.

Hansol Vernon Chwe is the epitome of fluffy, decked out in large electric blue sweats and his russet brown hair curling softly above his porcelain skin. Not only is he your co-editor, but also a friend from college. Not to the extent that you were with Jisoo and Jungkook, but you operated in the same publishing club and managed to get partnering internships that made you the co-workers you are today. You see a little bit of that collegiate youth in Vernon right now, as he looks well-rested and fresh faced despite the fact he probably didn’t apply moisturizer or drink enough water today.

“But you kinda do,” he tilts his head, noting the heels that adorn your feet, “you’re wearing your sexy shoes today, that means something’s going on.”

“Gee, ever the ladies’ man,” you scoff, getting under his arm to invite yourself inside, “all I want is the completed interviews so we can pick out the best parts and draft them. Then I’ll be on my merry way.”

“Oh c’mon, we’ve been talking nothing but work this whole damn month. What happened to college when we’d talk hours about House Hunters, the safeness of library sex, that little furry thing in Lincoln Hall’s urinal? That was prime conversation.”

“Vern, I’m just here for the drafts,” you sit at his tiny kitchen table, glaring at his open laptop.

“You could’ve just emailed me,” he teases, twisting around his chair so he can rest his arms against the back. “But since you’re here, that means you probably wanna spill some tea but you’re too upset to admit it.”

“If I talk will you stop talking like that?”

“Yes. Give me the juicy details. Need some juicy juice.”

“Nevermind, get out of my apartment.”

“Uh, this is my apartment.”

“My point still stands,” you make another face at his outfit, “you look like the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.”

Vernon purses his lips, scooting his chair closer to yours. He’s unfazed by your insult, far used to your defenses being higher up than Fort Knox. He looks up at you with his pretty lashes and deceivingly sweet caramel eyes, leaning his head along the backrest. “C’mon, tell me what’s bothering you,” he says in a gentle tone, coaxing you open.

He always knew how to do it for you, a little bit of sweet talking and that clear open gaze always reduced you to shreds in university. For him, it always took a good meal and some sci-fi movies to get him to talk. That must be why you’ve stayed friends for so long, you two knew how to connect.

Finally you crack, kicking off your shoes and hoping the sharp end doesn’t land on his cat. You hear Luna meow in protest but she’s got great reflexes. Unbuttoning the first three buttons of your stuffy blazer, you air out your cleavage, not caring about Vernon’s gaze. He’s seen worse.

“Remember Jeon Jungkook? Majored in graphic design.”

“Ah, yeah. The guy who like, lived at the gym and the dining hall? Haven’t seen him in a minute,” his eyes seem to glaze over the glory days, reminiscing in the simultaneous safetynet and stressor that made up your early twenties, “didn’t you guys hit it off real well? Like I remember you ditched like—three sci-fi nights to study with him. Who even studies at 1AM?”

“Yeah, we did,” and you can’t help but frown at as you remember the 7-Eleven runs, the utter warmth you felt when he would wipe a stray rice grain off your cheek, and how happy you felt to laugh so much with him it hurt, “but uh. Jisoo got drunk last night, because they had a fight. And she sort of admitted to me that she sabotaged our relationship and told Jungkook I wasn’t interested in him so they could start dating. Two years later and here we are.”

A pause. And then, “Want a beer?”

Vernon doesn’t even wait for a response when he gets up, bare feet slapping against the tile as he prepares some drinks and snacks for you.

“That’s pretty fucked up,” he practically sing-songs among the cacophony of popcorn pop-pop-popping in the microwave. The aroma of buttery kernels is all but a relief, reminding you of movie matinees, “and like, she knew you liked him! It was totally obvious, even if you didn’t spell it out for her.”

“Yeah,” you practically gushed to Jisoo those past two months, every waking moment with heart-eyes over the talented graphic designer Jeon Jungkook.

“I can’t believe Jisoo would keep that a secret from you for so long. Like, can you even trust her anymore?”

“Don’t know, was she even my bestfriend or was I just a good roommate to her?” you ask. Vernon is holding two beers in one hand and a bag of popcorn by the tips of his fingers in the other, careful to not burn himself. Opening the beer for you, you thank him and take a long swig.

“Well, good thing you’re still not in love with him or whatever. That would really suck. Unless—”

The look on your face says it all. You’re practically snotting into your bottle, your face tucked into your chin as you fight hard to stop the tears you’ve been suppressing for the last two years. “Don’t give me your pity,” you garble, turning away from the sad look Vernon gives you as he wraps his arms around you.

The tears are soft and gentle, flowing freely onto the cotton of Vernon’s arms as you let it out.

“‘M’not,” he concedes, rubbing his chin into your neck. He really is a lot like Luna, just like his cat ready to give you affection. “Let’s just, get some take-out and watch Hamilton or something.”

He lets you wear his matching sweat suit, lime green, as you order Thai food and rap along to Hamilton’s sick beats. Vernon does a better job keeping the flow, but you’re having a good time being his hype man as he parades around the living room like it’s 1776.

You go home that night around ten o’clock, feeling noticeably lighter and more relaxed. Be that it may you are still wearing the sweatpants and heels ensemble, you feel comforted.

The apartment is quiet when you walk in, not a single light turned on. You get a slice of the city lights bleeding in from the organza curtains, which allow you to kick off your heels and hobble to where you think the kitchen counter is.

Today is Jisoo’s day to cook dinner. You can tell she decided to cook today from the faint smell of Japanese curry and a small unwashed plate in the sink. Whenever it was someone’s turn, they usually left an extra bowl or serving in it for the other roommate when they got home. Unsurprisingly, you find no such thing on the counter or in the fridge.

You’re not upset, but rather decided. If Jisoo is going to let your friendship fade off with no intention of redeeming herself, then you should give her the same amount of energy back. You realize now the apology she gave last night wasn’t for you, but empty words to make her feel better and mend whatever toxicity she’s created in her own relationships. People like Namjoon and Vernon reminded you that you didn’t need to try and earn other people’s friendships.

It’s disappointing, but the feeling is all but too familiar.

If you could describe Jisoo as anything, it would be the color pink. Blushing, beautiful, beguiling pink. The way she flushes when Jungkook does an uncalled for grandiose gesture of romance, or when she wears a hot magenta number when she’s hosting a fashion show. Jisoo is the personification of La vie en rose, unbothered and unabashed.

But now all you see when you think of Jisoo? Nothing but red.

With that, you go in your room and untack the polaroid of you and Jisoo at the carnival last month, putting it away in your junk drawer to be forgotten.

“You’re running away.”

“Am not.”

“Are too,” that interjection comes from Vernon’s roommate, Jung Hoseok. He’s been watching you two bicker over work for the past hour while he plays GTA5, failing to get a good hard carry because you and Vernon are too busy discussing whatever finishing touches you need on your final draft.

“No one asked for your opinion, Jung,” you throw over your shoulder.

“I’m just saying,” Hoseok flicks his wrist and nabs a tank, “you never wanna go home, you eat all our food, and I found your pyjamas in my laundry basket.”

“You said your basket was the blue one,” you hiss under your breath.

“The navy blue one,” Vernon chirps unhelpfully, “not the electric blue one.”

Hoseok hits “save” on his campaign, disconnecting from his PS4 and stretching his lean limbs. “I mean, we could use a third roommate,” Hoseok jokes, getting up from the couch and grabbing a handful of M&Ms from your bowl, “you do make a bomb mac n’cheese.”

“Appreciated,” you relent when Hoseok presses a kiss to your cheek and tells Vernon he’ll be back late working, leaving you and Vernon alone in their shared apartment. When Hoseok is gone, you stare at the door, tilting your head, “y’know,” you remark, “Hoseok’s a cool guy, why did I never hang out with him in college?”

“Because he was stoned the majority of senior year and you just didn’t vibe with that crowd.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“But, you’re trying to change the subject,” Vernon carefully untacks your hands from your keyboard, knowing that you two have already been done with this month's issue and you’re now just mindlessly re-reading emails. “You’ve been here since Thursday, and now it’s Saturday. And as much as Hoseok and I like having you around so you can wake me up before we go to work, it’d be nice to throw me a bone and let me in on what you’re thinking right now.”

You frown, noting Vernon’s large hand covering your laptop closed. He isn’t going to remove his hand anytime soon unless you talk. “Jungkook’s helping Jisoo pack up her half of the apartment this weekend and I don’t want to be there,” you say, short and simple.

“You miss her?”

“Yeah,” you admit honestly. You hate this version of yourself, unable to even look at Jisoo nowadays despite the fact you’re under the same roof for the remainder of the month. It’s hard to believe that the roommate from six years ago finally got under your skin, cancelling out all the years of friendship because of one silly relationship, “sad she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.”

“Did you talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you reply despondently, “if she cared at all she would’ve to apologize again by now.”

Vernon figures, and his neutral expression doesn’t change as he leads you to the couch, brushing away Hoseok’s things so you two can get comfy. You busy yourself with the remote, exiting the PS4 homepage to scroll Netflix.

“And are you trying to get over him?”

“I mean, yeah,” you have been, but it’s a little hard when you’ve been contentedly pining. It was easy to keep your feelings bottled up because you originally thought Jisoo and Jungkook were meant to be for each other for the past two years. Now you're still pining but ruefully bitter at Jisoo.

“It’s not fair, y’know. She broke girl code, bros before hoes. Or is it chicks before dicks?” Vernon shakes his head at his lame attempt to get you to smile, which works anyway because Vernon’s silly and his sense of humor always gets you a little loose. “It’s your house too, you shouldn’t feel like you don’t belong there.”

“Well I was supposed to help her move out this weekend, and I’d prefer it if Jungkook didn’t know what was going on.”

“What?” your friend furrows his thick brows together, tucking his hands under his knees as he leans into your stubborn expression. “You’re gonna let Jungkook go on with his life not knowing that his relationship is based on a lie. That’s not cool. Even if you’re into him, he’s still your friend.”

Damn, when did Vernon get so good at giving advice? Truth is Vernon’s always been good at dishing advice, you’ve just been privy to what you wanted to reveal to him. The first year or so being together outside of college was always about work, saving each other’s asses to ensure you two got that promotion and aim higher and higher. Now that goal is out of the way, and what better way to reconnect over some shoddy romance straight out of a Degrassi special?

“I know,” you hug your knees tight to your chest, “when I’m ready, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees, because he’s not a pusher, “do you know the best way to get over someone?”

“What?”

“The best way to get over someone, is to get under someone," he emphasizes that point with his hands, sliding one under the other with a wiggle of his thick brows.

You slap him on the shoulder, “Vern, you disgust me.”

“But it works!”

“I’m not going on Tinder to find a fuckbuddy.”

“You don’t have to look on Tinder or Tumble.”

“Bumble.”

“Whatever,” and his eyes flicker to his lap, where his pale fingertips turn red as he grips the edge of a throw pillow. "If you really don't wanna find someone, I can help."

Is Vernon offering himself up? He is offering to fuck your brains out in the hope that you could inevitably fuck out your interest in Jungkook? Your eyes flicker over to Vernon's form on the couch, who's tucked in the couch just as you are.

It’s true that you find Vernon attractive, and to some extent he definitely finds you attractive as well otherwise he wouldn’t have suggested the idea. It’s just that in college you never viewed him in that kind of light, probably because you were always so caught up in Jungkook. But tonight you can’t seem to ignore the eagerness hidden in Vernon’s carmine gaze, and how shiny and touchable his chocolate locks look under the setting sun.

“I don’t want our friendship to change,” you reply slowly, furrowing your brows. “I appreciate it, but I don’t know. It sounds like a temporary fix.”

“Can’t knock it if you don’t try it,” and out of curiosity, you don’t shy away when Vernon leans over to you, squeezing himself between the couch so he can tuck you in his arms. “I want to help you, but only if you want to.”

Maybe it’s the frustration you feel with Jisoo, Jungkook’s ignorance, or the fact that you haven’t felt physical pleasure in such a long time, but you soften into Vernon’s hold. He’s relaxed, nothing betraying him as he waits patiently for your answer. You’ve always admired how much he kept up his “cool as a cucumber” demeanor. He isn’t the type of guy to let life pass him by, but he’s the kind of person who walks along life, embracing the ups and downs like old friends. He’s the ocean waves that crest along the shore, pushing and pulling along without a care in the world.

He’s the textbook opposite of Jeon Jungkook, which is why you give Vernon the okay to lean in and press his lips against yours.

His kisses are soft, and he takes great care in making sure you’re comfortable with this new step in your relationship. It almost feels as if you’re cutting corners, and you can’t help but feel a little guilty that you revel in the way Vernon’s hands trail under your too-large t-shirt.

The pleasure you’ve ached for is there, bubbling low in the pit of your belly. It’s hard to get you out of your mind however, because this man isn’t the one you love. His kisses hold no power, only brief reprieve. Your heart doesn’t palpitate and your palms don’t sweat, you’re just languid.

You’re greedy and selfish, but you remind yourself that it’s okay to allow yourself of these freedoms, even for a little bit. As Vernon finds your sweet spot that has you rolling your hips against his, you find that temporary fix isn’t a bad start at all.

When you trudge back to your apartment that night after much reluctance, your face is still flushed and you think you smell a little too much like Vernon’s cologne. But the fact that still stands is that you're satiated, and you feel a tiny percent closer to moving on.

The television is glowing with a terrible reality TV show, angry brides upset over cake layers or whatever. Jungkook and Jisoo have fallen asleep on the couch, surrounded by half-empty boxes. Jungkook has his arm lazily over Jisoo, her petite body fitting perfectly between his chest and the crook of his neck.

You scoff when you spy Jisoo's bedazzled manicure digging into Jungkook's bicep, as if someone's going to take him away if she doesn't hold tight.

With stiff muscles you spare one look at Jungkook, ignoring the pang in your chest as you weave between boxes to turn the TV off. Barely an iota of your feelings have dissipated since your previous tryst with Vernon not an hour ago. Looking at Jungkook brings it all back, unfortunately. You suppose the feelings will pass with time. The soft hum of the television ceases, and you’re bathed in a room that feels dark and empty, despite the apparent life in the room.

There’s some bleary talk coming from the couch as you walk to your bedroom, and if Jungkook is sleepily mumbling your name in question, you pretend you don’t hear.

“So, where’s y/n? I thought she was going to help us pack.”

It’s an innocent enough question, as Jungkook scans the corner of the living room hallway that leads to the bedrooms. You haven’t come out yet. He knows that you love sleeping in on the weekends, but he hopes the smell of fresh food will coax you to the table. His pan is sizzling in protest, telling Jungkook to quit talking and flip the hashbrowns. He's fried up three, in the hopes you’d be up for some crispy potatoes. He knows how much you love potatoes, especially at 2AM when you’re craving fries and a McFlurry combo.

Instead Jisoo mutters, “You toasted too much bread, you know I don’t eat bread like this,” she’s pulling slice by slice out of the toaster, until there’s a stack of six golden toasts in the middle of the kitchen table.

A little part of him wishes to quell the precursor to the argument there. It would be so easy for Jungkook to say, “the extras are for me” because he’s trying to gain weight, and that would be that.

Instead he continues with his unanswered question and replies honestly, “I made extra toast for y/n, babe. She was supposed to help us pack but I haven’t seen her all weekend.” But he’s pretty sure you came home last night, unless that was his imagination.

Jisoo pulls a carafé of apple juice out of the fridge, pouring the amber liquid into two glass cups. “Ah, she said she had some last minute things to do for work. Y’know, Big Hit always wants a big hit.”

He chuckles, tilting his head as Jisoo gives him a small smile from the kitchen table. Jisoo is always good at cheesy jokes. “She must love her job, huh.”

“Yeah.”

“Her articles are really good, too,” the air smells like butter and Italian seasoning, as he places one hash brown on Jisoo’s plate, and two on his. He knows you edit in the Arts & Media section, and loves how you make it a point to include video games and modern graphics when it’s deemed appropriate. “She did a piece on the evolution of RPG and I thought her commentary was really spot-on.”

He brings breakfast over to the table, while Jisoo places two slices of toast on his plate, one buttered and one with strawberry preserves. Breakfast is a quiet, but peaceful affair. Jungkook takes note of how Jisoo takes extra long to complete her meal, her fork creating ribbons in her little blob of magenta jam. He allows himself to complete his first hashbrown and a slice of toast before asking the difficult question.

“Are you and y/n okay?” and he also takes note when Jisoo’s ministrations on her jelly stop, as she looks up at him with her big brown eyes.

“We’re fine,” she insists, “just normal roommate issues, I promise.”

“Maybe I should text y/n,” Jungkook says, pulling out his phone. “Lemme help you fix this, wouldn’t want you and her in a bad place when you’re about to move out.”

“Baby, why are you so concerned about y/n?” Jisoo croons while his thumb hovers over your contact, his screen showing a two-year old selfie you two took during a study session early on in your friendship. He can’t remember the last time you two took a picture together out of spite, one without Jisoo. Jisoo’s hand pulls him away from his phone, rubbing small circles between his palm.

He wants to ask, why aren’t you? But he sees the terseness in Jisoo’s smile, as her eyes fix between the interlocked fingers. He has a feeling he’s hovering somewhere he isn’t allowed to be in. Maybe it really is roommate stuff and it’s none of his business, but he feels a little insulted being left out because you and Jungkook are just as much best friends as you were in college.

Or are you?

This question plagues him throughout the day, and when Jungkook packs enough boxes for the weekend and says he needs to go home, Jisoo for once doesn’t argue. Normally Jisoo would cling to him like a koala, murmur simultaneously adorable and dirty things in his ear and lead him to her bedroom to coop up for hours on end. But Jisoo says she’s tired and needs some alone time, which is also fine.

He doesn’t feel like going home, and instead heads straight to the gym. A couple pumps wouldn’t hurt, and it would clear his head. It’s nearly five in the evening when his body is thrumming with the afterglow of his post-workout, and he decides to take a little cool down in the mall and treat himself to a smoothie.

It must be kismet when he sees you coming out of the bookstore, looking a little winded but no less professional in your beige blazer set and rose gold iPad. Whenever he hung around your apartment with Jisoo and you’d come home from work, he’d make it a point to acknowledge your plethora of multicolored skirt-suits. He never needs to be professional in his place of work, and admires how much effort you put in.

“Hey!” he jogs up to you, and he catches the way your shoulders jump at his voice. “We missed you today.”

Your smile curls into something dry, and you twist your spine like rusty hinges to face him. In turn, his smile dims a little, wondering if he’s doing something wrong. Maybe you’re tired? He catches the line of sweat that glistens your baby hairs, and how your hair is done up but has fallen a few centimeters with some pieces falling out.

“Jungkook,” you exhale, “lifting boxes wasn’t enough of a workout?”

“You know me,” he replies stiffly, hiking his backpack higher upon his shoulder. Why does this conversation feel so awkward? “So, finishing up work? Sucks you have to work on a Sunday.”

“Ah, it wasn’t so bad,” you face relaxes a little as you explain your work, “it was children’s day at the bookstore and they were watching Disney movies. I’m writing a piece on how I believe Ratatouille is Pixar’s magnum opus. Interviewed some kids, I wanted an expert opinion.”

“Ratatouille is the superior film,” he declares with a firm nod, “after all, anyone can cook.” He revels in the small smile he manages to retrieve from you, immediately understanding the inside joke. If he came out of the gym five minutes earlier, he probably would’ve been able to catch you in the bookstore. What a shame, he would’ve loved to see you play around with the kids.

At the mention of food, the mall manages to silence itself enough for him to catch the grumbling coming from your stomach. He laughs when your cheeks heat.

“I was on my way to get some smoothies,” he jabs a thumb in the direction of the food court, “wanna catch up and get a bite?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I have a lot of work to edit,” disappointment pangs in his chest at your easy rejection, but he ignores it, “I kinda wanna save some money too, still not sure if I’m staying in the apartment after Jisoo moves.”

He doesn’t know what compels him to take your shoulders and wheel you in the direction of the food court, much to your protest and whines. “C’mon, explain to me why Ratatouille is the magnum opus—I need to defend why The Incredibles is superior. I’ll treat you to dinner.”

“What? I can pay for my own food—”

“And I can’t treat my best friend to a nice meal once in a while?”

That has you stopping in your tracks, and Jungkook nearly barrels his chest into your head if not for the grippy soles of his Adidas Ultraboosts. He can’t see your face, but his hands note how your muscles cord tightly between the cotton of your blazer.

He doesn’t understand why you’re so tense. Was it because he called you his best friend? Well, you are? At one point he felt that way, early on in college. The position just stuck with you. And when Jisoo told him you weren’t interested, he was perfectly fine with the platonic relationship. It was nice to have someone to talk media and video games to, someone not as chaotic as Jimin and someone not as deterred as Yoongi.

Although, maybe as of late he hasn’t been so much of a friend. It’s no one’s fault, he’s been caught up with work and Jisoo’s move, he hasn’t said so much as a “hey how are you” when you’re around. He can’t blame you.

Suddenly his mind blanks, the mall fading away as he focuses on how small you look as your eyes dart between the parking lot and the food court. Jisoo and Jungkook have been so caught up on each other lately, that he fears you’re starting to separate yourself.

“Um, this place is good,” you tug him by the elbow and lead him to a fast food joint.

When he picks up both your orders and comes over to your saved table, you’re talking animatedly on the phone. You’re laughing, looking at Jungkook as if he’s the one intruding and you’re muttering a hushed “sorry” as you continue the tail end of the conversation.

“Yes, Joonie. Go with section two, I know my shit. I’m your Work Wife for a reason, Umji in PR could never compare,” you’re giggling like you’re five years younger, and Jungkook feels stuck in a timelapse.

He watches you go, throwing around names and terms that he’s so lost on but so desperate to understand. He knows nothing about your life other than the one that’s tied with Jisoo, which is a damn shame. Since when did he inevitably downgrade you from “best friend” to “his girlfriend’s roommate?”

“I’m sorry,” you turn your phone over and push it to the side, giving Jungkook a smile as well, albeit weaker, “let’s dig in!”

To his relief the dinner goes as good as it should be. You have your tray practically overflowing at the seams, all on Jungkook’s dime. It has his heart swelling with pride, he hasn’t seen you eat in a long time. There’s fries spilling out from the corners, and two sandwiches because you couldn’t decide between a chicken sandwich and a burger.

Food gets you amicable, and he doesn’t mind when he does most of the talking. You’re engrossed in his talk, lettuce hanging out of your mouth as you’re rapt with attention as he recalls a story that happened at work recently with Mingyu. You ask questions in all the right places and he sucks up all your attention like a happy pill, and it feels nice to be able to lead a conversation for once.

“Jeez, I’m getting the burger sweats,” you giggle to yourself, and his smile brightens at your positive change in attitude. Food always helps.

When you remove your thick high-collar blazer, that’s when he sees it.

“Seeing someone?” he asks, eyes flickering curiously towards the violet bruises that bloom across your neck.

“What–oh,” you have the audacity to look embarrassed, hands clutching your neck like a shield, “no, just a hookup.”

A messy hookup, too. Unless you had a thing for showing off marks, which doesn’t seem to be the case. “Didn’t peg you for someone who hooks up,” he says more to himself than you, but you catch him on his impulse jab.

Your eyes narrow and your defenses go up, “I’m trying to get over someone,” you snip back, busying your hands by crushing up your greasy sandwich wrappers.

“Am I allowed to state my opinion?”

“Since you asked so politely, no.”

He sighs, “I just don’t think that’s the best way to get over someone,” heck, Jungkook doesn’t even know who exactly you’re trying to get over. He just knows that you’re far too smart and independent to let yourself resort to such matters.

“It isn’t, but it’s really the best option as of now,” you reply curtly.

And his gaze saddens as he sees you fold your blazer over your arm, indicating that your time is up. Jungkook is aware the comment he made is out of line, and it weakens him knowing that you don’t even want to pick a fight with him. He can’t even find it in himself to apologize properly.

He doesn’t know if he’s more sad that you’re pining over someone unattainable or upset at himself for not knowing you’ve been harboring feelings for someone. If you really think hooking up is your only option, you must be really hung about whoever you’re into as of late.

“If it’s worth anything,” Jungkook adds, wanting to leave on a high note, “fuck that guy. He clearly doesn’t deserve you.”

A small, secret smile plays on your lips, “Yeah, I like to believe that.”

“I’m anxious,” Namjoon’s mantra makes the whole energy in the room wobbly, paired with the fact the two of you are squished between cardboard boxes as Jungkook aimlessly moves things around like a Tetris screen.

The only time you feel remotely comfortable basking in your home is when Jisoo is gone. Oh-so conveniently is the Big Hit building undergoing maintenance today, so you and Namjoon have decided to work from home in your apartment. Although you thought by now that Jisoo’s boxes would be long gone and tucked away in Jungkook’s place, instead you’re living in an episode of Ed, Edd and Eddy and the cardboard is practically wall-to-wall. You also thought by now that Jungkook would have no reason to show up unannounced anymore, but apparently that’s not the case.

“I have, anxiety,” Namjoon adjusts his glasses for the nth time this afternoon, brain not fixed enough to focus on the screen of his chrome MacBook, “anxiety, anxiety. I can’t right now. I need my weighted blanket and a pillow.”

“Namjoon, I can get both of those for you if we just send in this last spread,” you coo gently, as if placating a baby. You make brief eye contact with Jungkook from the other side of the room, his lips quirking in amusement as he stacks a box of clothes by the kitchen.

“Do you feel my palms? My palms, they’re like a fucking fountain you need to feel them—” your Wusband approaches you like a zombie, leaning over you and tripping over his criss-crossed legs before he topples over you.

“Blegh, get off of me you sweat giant!” you cry with a good-natured laugh, although the grip of Namjoon’s palms under your shoulders are damp and slimy, “Joon, I can’t get you your blanket if you’re crushing my boobs.”

Namjoon finally relents, untacking himself to rest his chin on your glass coffee table. “Fine.”

“Look over the last column and I’ll bring your blanket, okay?”

Pushing yourself off the ground, you shuffle your way out of the living room through the maze of boxes and into the hallway. It feels like your apartment is less of an apartment and more of a storage space when you’re trapped in-between two lines of boxes, and Jungkook effectively blocking you from entering your room. He was just in the living room but now he’s come from the linen closet, standing between the entrance of your room.

“Sorry,” he pops his head out from a smaller box, one filled with designer costume jewelry.

“It’s fine,” you chirp, barely making eye contact as you shuffle over the boxes.

Your toe drags over the lid of one of the open boxes in an attempt to move diagonally. You nearly crash your face into the hardwood if not for Jungkook’s arm stretching out to catch you. In seconds he manages to catch all your weight in one hand, pulling you to him with your hip pressed against his. Your breath traps itself in your neck. Your subconscious fears that if you speak now, you’ll babble about how attractive it is that he’s able to catch you as easily as grabbing a light sheet of paper.

“Careful,” his voice rumbles in his throat as he regards you with a wan smile.

Your “thanks” is barely uttered as you slip into your room, heaving your weighted blanket and a pillow in your arms to let Namjoon borrow.

The burgundy quilted fabric is hunched over your shoulder, draped around your body so it’s easier for you to carry on your back. You try to eradicate the memory of Jungkook’s arms, lean and strong as he held you to him moments before.

Ugh, you thought messing around with Vernon would stop your silly pining. It seems that it’ll take more than a couple rounds to satiate your curiosity. For such a kind guy, Jungkook seems like a wolf in sheep’s clothing when it comes to the bedroom.

You can imagine him being so kind in the beginning, coaxing you to wan and bend to his every wish and command. And then when you keen a little too hard at the attention, you bet a switch would flip and he’d grab you—

The blanket flops around your back, and you’re sorely reminded that you’re thirsting over a taken man, yet again.

Jungkook makes it extremely difficult for him to be hateable. It’s by nature that he’s just so damn likeable. Heck, he’s pretty much packed seventy percent of the things Jisoo should be packing right now.

Making sure not to trip again, on your feelings and your blanket, you successfully reach a tired Namjoon. You tuck your koala-shaped pillow under your co-editor’s arms, and drape the heavy blanket over him like a cape. He’s giving you a thumbs up and a toothless smile, the previous meltdown overcome as he focuses on finishing the last of today’s work. He’s slipped on some noise-cancelling earphones, presumably filled with generic coffee-house music or rain playlists.

Wordlessly you go to your nook to prepare some tea. It’s getting late and a warm cup would distract you from the impending deadline. Despite the fact that you and Namjoon are 99% of the way done, his previous freak-out has you on live-wire and you could use a little caffeine.

Placing three mugs on the counter you call, “Jungkook, tea?”

“Yes please,” you stiffen when you feel Jungkook magically appear right behind you, his head peering over your shoulder, “with milk and honey.”

Deciding to give Jungkook the beehive-shaped mug because it’s very on-brand for him, you begin to steep the leaves in your kettle while he spoons the honey.

“So,” his words are slow as the drip of honey, the amber goo taking its time to descend into his mug as it falls from the dipper. “Is that the guy you’re trying to get over?”

Jungkook lifts his brows towards Namjoon, who is softcore jamming to his white noise playlist. It’s cute as to how curious Jungkook is about Namjoon. While you try to keep your work life separate, there really isn’t much backstory to your personal life to warrant that kind of divide.

“Namjoon,” you state aloud, watching Namjoon sing badly to himself, “why, are you gonna beat him up for me?”

“I can take him,” you can practically hear Jungkook’s chest pop out.

With a roll of your eyes, you reach to kill the heat off the tea kettle, “No need. He isn’t the guy I’m trying to get over.”

“Oh, he’s your fuck buddy then?”

“Shit!” being caught off guard, you grab at the handle of your kettle without a pot holder, burning your fingertips. In seconds Jungkook’s larger hand encases your own, pulling you over to the sink to soak your fingers in cool running water.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jungkook is chanting like a sinner at church, searching for any sign of pain in your visage, “I shouldn’t have asked while you’re working with a hot stove.”

You suppress a sigh, relaxing your fingers as Jungkook soothes the burn with his gentle hold, “Shouldn’t have asked in the first place,” you mumble.

“I know,” he replies, “guess I’m just feeling a little left out. We don’t talk like we used to. I guess I’m getting a little too nosy for my own good, aren’t I?”

You don’t understand what’s going on with his incessant babbling as of late, but you chalk it up to work stress and Jisoo’s move. Having no answers to his honest reply, you gently untack your red palm from his grip, assuring him that you’re fine.

Namjoon steps into your kitchenette, being surprisingly careful as he takes your potholder to pour himself a cup of tea. If the tea is oversteeped and bitter he doesn’t say anything, only leans against the counter as he regards you two with slow sips. “You alright?”

“M’fine,” you reply stubbornly, avoiding Jungkook’s worried stare.

Namjoon holds out his hand, “Hand.”

“No—”

“Hand.”

His deep voice coerces you, and you immediately slap the back of your palm onto Namjoon’s. Your partner brushes his golden hands over the tiny blister that’s forming over your fingertips. “Can’t have my Work Wife outta commission.”

“Your Work Wife is fine,” you gripe back.

Your co-worker’s eyes flicker over to Jungkook’s for a brief second, Jungkook regarding him in curiosity as he stares at your connected palms. “I have some aloe in my bag for sunburns,” Namjoon offers helpfully, ignoring the weird glances, “I’ll give it to you in a bit. Also, I’ve overcome my sudden bout of stress and I’m ready to email our progress to Victoria. We’re done for the day.”

“Awesome, thanks Joonie,” you exhale, relaxing against the sink, “wanna go eat somewhere?”

“There’s a niche place in Itaewon if you wanna check it out?” Namjoon offers.

Jungkook interjects, “Jisoo ordered pizza if you guys wanna share with us?”

“Pizza also sounds good—”

“We don’t wanna interrupt your alone time,” you gracefully cut in, stepping in front of Namjoon despite the fact that he’s easily towering over you.

Jungkook snorts, “I’ll have enough alone time with her when she moves in, don’t worry. Besides, I ordered three pies because I wanted to try three different flavor combos. I need two additional judges.”

“Thanks Jungkook but,” you stifle a cry when Namjoon jabs you in the back with his thumb. It’s pressing, digging into the small of your back as if he’s trying to telepathically tell you that you’re being rude, “but… I don’t know if I can eat three slices! Namjoon on the other hand, can probably eat enough to fairly judge.”

“Great,” Jungkook’s smile is blinding, causing your grin to stiffen as he looks for his phone to shoot Jisoo a quick text that they’re having dinner for four.

Once Jungkook’s out of earshot, Namjoon tugs you by the sleeve, “The hell was that?” he hisses in your ear, “you look like you’re about to shit and piss your pants at the same time.”

“I just don’t feel comfortable eating with them,” you cross your arms in defiance. You think back to just a week ago where you and Jisoo reluctantly attempted to eat breakfast together one morning. You provided minimal small talk while Jisoo clinged to her phone, replying to you in non-committal clipped tones.

“Do I want to know?”

“No.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” you retort, “you got me into this mess, you’re gonna stay with me ‘till the end.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, woman,” Namjoon throws his arms out exasperatedly, oolong tea nearly sloshing onto his hand, “just suck it up or I revoke your bragging rights to that snag you got on our spread next Monday.”

“Not my fault you couldn’t get Kim Taeyeon on the spread,” you smirk.

“Well I didn’t so happen to stalk the Sephora she frequents for the past two weeks—”

“I didn’t stalk her I just so happened to need a new Fenty Gloss Bomb every other day—”

“I’m home, Jungkookie!”

Your face contorts, your playful energy melting to the hardwood as your previous banter with Namjoon evaporates into thin air. Work bags in one hand and three boxes of pizza balancing in the other, Jisoo kicks off her heels somewhere across the door and places the pizza on the dining table.

Jungkook immediately appears by her side, and you look away and Jisoo plants a heavy kiss on his lips. She cracks open one eye as she notices you and Namjoon hanging by the kitchenette, “Oh,” she mumbles at her audience, “you’re here?”

Yes, you bimbo. I’m here in my own apartment.

“I guess you didn’t read my text that they’ll be joining us for dinner,” Jungkook cuts in good-naturedly, “we have way too much pizza anyway. Have a seat, guys.”

Jungkook navigates the kitchen as easily as your own, and you slump in your chair while Namjoon exchanges pleasantries with Jisoo. She looks impeccable, hair in a tight chignon and a tight navy dress as she converses with your co-editor.

“I’m starving,” Jungkook announces, making sure to place a slice on Jisoo’s plate. He shuffles through the other boxes, making brief eye contact with you when he decides to put a slice on yours as well, “you like these toppings, right?”

You regard the greasy, hearty piece of cheese and bread with a curt nod. You feel Jisoo’s eyes laser on your skin, “Yeah, thanks Kook.”

Namjoon, Jisoo and Jungkook mostly stir up the conversation, you opting to eat as slow as possible to avoid any conversation. It’s easy to blend back and let them take over, as Jisoo loves to talk about her fashion firm and Namjoon is a great listener.

Jungkook and Namjoon make it a point to direct the conversation to you from time to time, and you let the ball leave your court as soon as it lands. You prefer to keep your responses short and simple, especially when Jisoo is so eager to talk about the new silk drapes she’s installing for Jungkook’s windows.

Your phone buzzes in your lap, and you discreetly look under the table to read the incoming text message.

vernie bernie: would u like to do the devil’s dance tonight

vernie bernie: or a tickle to my pickle?

vernie bernie: beatin ya bean?

You: ohmyGOD

vernie bernie: or y’know, u could just come ovr and chill. Hobi made some bomb tres leches

You: call. Ill come after dinner

“Are you okay, y/n?” your head bounces up to meet Jungkook’s gaze, “you’ve barely eaten and you haven’t talked much.”

“Oh you know, she’s just stressed about the upcoming spread,” Namjoon steps in for you, and you send him a discrete, but grateful smile. He’s always impeccable at reading the room, “she’s just nervous about her interview with Kim Taeyeon, but I think you did her interview justice.”

“No way, the singer Kim Taeyeon?” Jungkook gushes, regarding you with stars in his eyes, “your interviews are always so great, y/n. You ask really good questions. Like that one spread about Lee Yonghwa’s art gallery? Really cool.”

You notice the way Jisoo presses her lips together, a thin line as if she’s trying to seal away words that she’ll regret saying. She’s jealous, and you can’t help the blush of pride that fills your veins as you raise a secret brow at her.

“Right, you got nothing to worry about,” Namjoon squeezes your shoulder encouragingly, as if you’d get his double-meaning.

“Thanks,” you reply, pushing your plate away and standing up, “I’m actually gonna go head to Vernon’s for a bit, though. He wants to double check his work before we email Victoria.”

It’s a bald-faced lie, Namjoon sent the files to Victoria right before dinner, but he isn’t going to argue.

“Okay,” Namjoon thanks Jungkook and Jisoo for the meal, stacking his plate atop yours, “I’ll walk out with you.”

“It’s only been twenty minutes, though,” you see the slight panic in Jungkook’s gaze as he watches you quickly clean up for you and Namjoon. You can’t quite pin why he’s so concerned, after all he has been acting strange as of late.

“Yeah, I’m full,” you reply curtly, licking your lips and avoiding his gaze. You already know what he wants to say, that he’s been in your apartment all day and all he’s seen you eat is stale chips and tea, “but we can do this again.” But hopefully not.

“If you’re coming home late again,” it’s the first time Jisoo has spoken to you directly. You tilt your head to her slowly, watching the plastic smile carefully carved onto her expression. You see the contrived care and concern between her brows, “please try to be quieter next time, the last time you came home late you woke Jungkookie up.”

Snapping your gaze to Jungkook you plaster on a thick smile, “Sorry Jungkook—”

“What? No, it’s fine!” he furrows his brows in confusion, finally able to detect the strange tension between the two housemates, “I barely heard you—”

“Maybe I’ll just stay the night at Vernon’s,” your eyes trail over to the pajama set you immediately switched into when you got home today, “wouldn’t want to disturb you two.”

“Good,” Jisoo’s tone is saccharine and clipped as she tacks on a, “have fun.”

It’s laudable, how much Jisoo wants to make a fool out of you but you won’t have it. You revel in the perplexed expression as Jungkook’s gaze darts back and forth between the two of you, wanting to butt in but unsure of how to approach it. Not giving him the time to, you bid the couple a goodnight and make a fast getaway. Heck, you don’t even take your work stuff with you.

Once you’re out the door, Namjoon wordlessly gives you a hug. You sigh gratefully into his embrace.

The next time Jungkook sees you, he reads the room before anything. You and Jisoo’s apartment is scarily empty, almost clinical. He’s tried texting you a few times after his failed-not-failed attempt at catching up at the mall and his awkward conversation concerning Namjoon, but you always reply back with vague replies and an unpromised promise of meeting up sometime soon.

It dulls him to think that you’ve given up on him as a friend. But can you blame him? He needs to keep an appropriate distance for Jisoo, after all, she doesn’t like it when he gets too close to other women unless it’s strictly professional. Usually Jisoo’s jealousy inevitably works itself out and Jungkook doesn’t pose any problems because he has very few girl friends, but for some reason your friendship with him specifically gets Jisoo stiff in the face. Is it because you and Jisoo are so close? Possibly.

But it doesn’t mean you can’t join the same Valorant server with him at 2AM and accidentally bomb each other, or argue over the magnum opus of each film company. Is that not enough?

Jisoo’s working overtime, and Jungkook suggested last night that he move the boxes to the front of the door for easy pick-up when the moving truck arrives. Jisoo promises to buy Thai food in return, and with a kiss emoji she leaves him to audit fabric budgets.

As he glides down to Jisoo’s room he notes that the pictures along the wall have disappeared, and there’s double the amount of boxes in the hallway. It seems that you’re moving out too. To where, he doesn’t know but he hopes it isn’t too far.

He chides Jisoo remotely when he sees that her room is completely intact, and he makes moves to pack up her things.

That’s when he finds his letter. Not a love letter to Jisoo, but a love letter to you. Deep in the recesses of Jisoo’s junk drawer, is a faded lavender envelope with a pressed cream colored baby’s breath taped up in plastic. The glue is yellow and old, clearly served its purpose due to the fact that the letter is already opened and the contents rumpled.

Hey Pretty Girl–

He immediately stuffs the letter back in its holder, stricken at his messy handwriting from two years ago. It feels like he found a time capsule, another version of Jungkook confessing to you. He used to call you Pretty Girl, not enough for you to catch on to his feelings, but enough for you to understand that he did find you attractive. It was early on in your friendship.

When you first asked him to be study partners for some silly class that had nothing to do with each other’s majors, he gaped like a guppy and pointed to himself. That day he went to class in last night’s clothes and a nest of fluffy strands. “Me?” he felt like absolute trash, and you were probably desperate due to the fact you two were the only seniors in this class, “but you’re a pretty girl… and I’m pretty dumb when it comes to this subject.”

But instead you scoffed and pulled him from his slumped figure, dragging him to the library, with a wink and a “you’re pretty, too.” Those words have burned in his brain since then, as he wasn’t used to getting such off-handed compliments, especially from intelligent girls that wanted more than one night.

For whatever reason you continued seeing his dumb self, even after the semester ended and together registered for one more class for spring.

Whenever you’d go out for ice cream you wouldn’t hesitate to stuff your face and add for extra Oreos and fries, you’d assure Jungkook you’re not normally this much of a slob.

Jungkook would just smile and offer you a napkin and say, “You’re still a pretty girl.”

He fell for you gracefully. There was no regret, no walk of shame, no cliché late night party where you or him could’ve instigated it into the physical. It was all by feel.

However the two of you took your time with your relationship, languidly enjoying the hushed conversations in the library at 2AM, the late night McFlurry runs, the integration of each other’s friends like it was natural. Ergo the lavender love letter. It was a gentle declaration, one he felt pretty confident in.

So color him stupid when you passed him in class with a happy wave, Jungkook dumbfounded at how well you handled his confession. You weren’t oblivious, you just never read it.

But now he knows the declaration was for whatever reason, lost in transit. “I should’ve known,” he whispers in the air, the letter crumpling in his grip. Composing himself, he pinches his brows.

There’s an electronic buzz and a sharp slam of the front door. Judging by the time, you’re home.

You flop onto your mattress, folding an arm over your head to stop the sun from seeping to your eyes. Vernon’s exhausted you, and you barely got away before he could have any say in it. You need a little space, and some time to think.

Just as you close the door to your bedroom, it swings open.

You gape as Jungkook thrusts himself into your bedroom like a deer with horns, looking pale. You follow his gaze, darkened eyes that linger a little too long on your neck again, and you narrow your eyes at him to avert. He looks a little red in the cheeks despite his pallidness, looking like he just got out of bed with messy wavy locks and his signature sweats. Is Jungkook packing for Jisoo again?

Acutely aware that you smell like sweat and sex, you clutch the blankets closer to your body. “Uh, rude.”

He looks uncharastically frantic, waving a letter in his hand, “Did you ever read this?”

“Read what?” you ask, hands reaching out for the envelope.

“My confession letter,” he blurts, having no shame now that all the gears are running through his head. “I wrote you a letter asking you out, because you said you wanted to collect notes like in Letters to Juliet. But I just found it in Jisoo’s drawer, why would it be there?”

And all the pent up frustration that never seemed to escape under Vernon’s sheets, the feelings that never seem to subside, all bubble back to the surface. Now that Jungkook knows, there’s no hiding.

You’re in shock, hands reaching for the letter despite the burn that seeps through your fingertips. Jungkook’s shoulders slump when you do indeed look like it’s your first time seeing this, as if a missing puzzle piece in your timeline has finally been revealed.

“I, I didn’t think you’d write me a letter,” you take the lavender envelope, clutching the letter by your chest like it’s something precious, “that’s so sweet,” you say to yourself.

It dawns on him, “Wait, you knew about this? I knew something weird was going on.”

“Only recently,” you frown.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” he nearly shouts, causing you to flinch, “no wonder why you were being so weird all this time. How could you let me live the rest of my life knowing this? That my relationship is built on a lie? ”

“I don’t know,” you suddenly feel very small in your mattress as Jungkook rounds up on you, pulling your desk chair closer to your bed, “because you love Jisoo, of course.”

“Well obviously that’s not possible,” and while yes a two-year realtionship ending like this is going to hit him hard tonight, he’s focused on you and the fact that you failed to tell him, “somehow I’d find out. Why wait for me to find out on my own?”

“Because I wanted to protect you!”

“Protect me,” he scoffs, crossing his arms and sneering at you. It causes you to tense up, feeling the telltale signs of tears bubbling to the surface, “you don’t even want to be friends anymore, y/n. I’ve tried to catch up to you so many times, but you keep leaving me hanging. I know I’ve been a pretty bad friend and I get it if you just feel awkward that I liked you, then that’s a shitty reason.”

“Have you ever considered that it’s too late to tell you?” you shoot back, sitting up straight, “yes, I admit I should’ve told you earlier and I’m sorry, but it was a lot for me to process to y’know? Jisoo and I haven’t talked properly in weeks!”

“Oh, so you’ve stopped trying to be friends with Jisoo too, huh? Just like you’re trying to stop being friends with me.”

“No,” you pinch your brows, “she stopped being friends with me! She doesn’t care about me because she has you,” conflict burns in Jungkook’s gaze, and you only serve to fuel the fire, “she’s tried so hard to not involve me in your relationship.”

“Just tell me why you’ve really kept this secret instead of saying you want to protect me like a baby—”

“It’s because I’m in love with you, idiot!”

You blink and back up against the wall of your bedroom, as if you can’t believe that the words came out of your mouth.

It’s quiet again. The sour look evaporates from Jungkook’s face as he watches you suppress your sobs on your mattress. The room seems devoid, sucked out of its color as you’ve cleaned up most of your things, the only thing left being some plain grey sheets and a pillow.

Jungkook’s mind is absolutely reeling, playing back memories from a different point of view.

“When Jisoo told me she sabotaged our relationship so she could date you, I was so upset and didn’t know what to think,” you manage to place the lavender note on your wooden desk, making sure no tears could mar it. “And I thought I could move on and eventually stay friends with the both of you, but the next day Jisoo put all her attention on you and completely ignored me or any attempt to salvage our friendship. She only told me to forgive herself,” you’re hugging yourself, wrapping the blankets around you like a weak embrace, “so I thought if I cut myself out of the picture and forced myself to move on like I should’ve, everything would’ve been okay.”

“So, you would’ve rather kept all this pain to yourself?”

“Yeah,” you give him a teary smile, “because I wanted you to be happy.”

And with an equally sad smile he murmurs, “But I’m not happy.”

Your face falls, and you really look at Jungkook. He’s exhausted as well, slumped in his chair. Has he been trying to grapple along the threads of his relationships, while you’ve been trying to loosen them?

“What a waste of two years,” he slumps in your chair, letting the pieces click into place, “a relationship built on fake love. I was really trying, y’know. I thought I was going crazy.”

The three of you have unknowingly been playing a futile game of Cat’s Cradle, a game that no one wins.

Jungkook looks wistfully out the window, noting the pleasant day that fails to present itself in your tiny room. It feels simultaneously satisfying and bitter when it falls into place, your thoughts finally fitting together for the first time in months. “We could’ve loved each other. For real,” he says, and you silently agree.

You’re still crying, shaking like a leaf in autumn. Jungkook’s arms hover awkwardly over yours, his warmth palpable despite the fact that he hasn’t touched you yet. With a timid smile you allow consent, and you melt like putty in his arms.

“Kookie, ‘m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you murmur into his shoulder, not caring if it hurts when you press your chin into his skin. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

It’s been so long to have him close like this, the friend you’ve always wanted but never needed. Since college you’ve always imagined a life without him doing just fine, but that doesn’t mean you want to live without him, roommate’s boyfriend or not.

“I’m sorry too,” he sighs back, “this sucks right now, but we’ll be alright.”

The two of you sit in your room until it turns dark and the sky muddles into shades of twilight and egg yolk orange. There’s lulls in the conversation, the two of you filling in the gaps and making sense of the mumbo-jumbo that’s been going on in your consciousness up until this point. Your insantities turn sane, and by the time Jisoo’s making her way back inside with the smell of pad thai, Jungkook is ready. With a squeeze to each other and a press of your lips because you don’t know what to say, you tuck yourself in and pretend to fall asleep.

“Messy, messy, messy,” Vernon sing-songs, knocking his heels against the wall.

The both of you are sitting upside-down, butts attached to the wall connecting to his mattress and your feet hanging in the air. Your mint floral organza socks pad against his Pink Floyd poster, while his yellow tube socks are heeling against some old Polaroids from college. There’s no prospect of sex today, not when shit just hit the fan.

Today you and Vernon are just two old friends and very close co-workers.

“Tell me about it,” you bemoan, frowning at the beige wall, “this whole week’s just been a whole mess. It’s like, warm tuna salad.”

“Gross,” Vernon grimaces at the apt comparison, “so what happens now?”

You sit up on your elbows, looking down at Vernon’s peaceful expression, “What do you mean?”

“Like, are you gonna get together with him?”

You snort, flopping back down on his bed. The blankets fluff around you and you inhale the pine scented sheets. “After all that? No.”

“But you still love him?”

It must sound dumb to still love him after all this time. You wouldn’t be surprised if Vernon thought you’re silly to still hold a place in your heart for someone who has fifteen million things on their plate now. After all the physicality and the space Vernon gave you in his home, your feelings haven’t wavered.

Your companion doesn’t bother waiting for your answer, hearing your answer somewhere in the air as he gets up and throws on his denim jacket. Rolling over your stomach you ask, “Where are you going?”

“Some friends down in printing want to meet up for drinks,” Vernon messes up his hair, making the waves part in that little coiff that makes his jawline look sharp. “I heard Yerin really wanted me to come, so.”

You can’t help the little middle school coo that comes from your lips, causing Vernon to giggle and throw a pillow at you. “Yerin’s cute!” you declare, remembering the petite girl in overalls who’s all about pops of yellow and violet, “you're into her?”

“Nah,” Vernon holds up two hats in his hands, gesturing for you to pick one. “Just figured it was a push in the right direction.”

Crawling out of his bed you stumble in your oversized t-shirt, tucking a finger under your chin as you decide between the emerald bucket hat and the red Ralph Lauren baseball cap. You pull out both hats from his hands and set it down on his vanity, opting to smooth out the flyaways and ringing your fingers through his soft curls. “And what direction would my free-flowing friend be going today?” you ask aloud, “you look better with your hair out,” you declare firmly, “makes you look like a fluffy CEO.”

He laughs at your silly comparison, and he gently moves your hand away from his hair when you linger a little too close to him. His gaze is solemn as he regards you with a gentle smile, “Keep your distance, I’m tryna get over someone,” he says simply, and your arm falls limp at your sides.

Your heart thuds in a different direction, your mouth parting but no words coming to the surface. When was the last time you asked about Vernon’s needs, wondered if he was doing alright, making sure you two were on the same page—

“You’re spiraling,” he reads you like a playbook, smoothing down your hair to press a kiss to the crown. Suddenly you feel guilty for not having sparks in your belly, shaming your conscience for not even considering his sacrifices in your self-absorption these past few weeks. “Like I said, I wanted to help you. Stop looking like a kicked puppy, it’s okay to be selfish.”

With transparent tears the two of you pack up and head to your next destination. Hands ghosting between each other you make your way to the exit of Vernon’s apartment, him to meet up with his friends while you have to unpack your new apartment. With a hug you tell each other you’ll see them on Monday, and as easy as that you go your separate ways.

Hey Pretty Girl—

I kinda wanted to tell you this in person but I know how much you liked Mamma Mia and all those other movies that have grand gestures in writing so I thought hey, might as well shoot my shot on paper.

Not gonna tell you all the details, because you deserve to hear it in-person. But mayhaps this letter has something to do with how much I like studying with you, watching movies with you, doing absolutely nothing with you and all of that in-between.

There’s a gift card to our spot attached. Meet me at McDonalds @12 tonight, so I know it’s real 😎

Hopefully yours, Jungkook

P.S. if you haven’t noticed already, I sprayed a little cologne and stole Taehyung’s fancy paper from Muji. That’s how serious I am about you.

“Joon, we live in a bonsai garden. We’re like giants in a forest.”

“Can you—can you stop spitting at them? Let them breathe, dammit.”

“Not my fault they’re so tiny! I literally have to zoom 200% just to get a good look at ‘em.”

The two of you are huddled in what used to be Namjoon’s balcony, now a sunroom for his succulents and bonsais. Your heart feels pink and swollen with affection as you regard Namjoon with interest, absorbing every bit of information you can as he teaches you how to care for his plants. After all, you’re co-parenting now.

Having your Wusband co-sign as your roommate for the next year is probably the best decision you have made this year. Everyday is like a breath of fresh air. With Seokjin gone for the year to tour his restaurant franchises, his room is yours for the taking. The two of you are easy going roommates, filling the apartment with color and vigour whether it be in the form of baking sweets or watching Netflix documentaries.

The only drama you ever have is when you two are having a meltdown over the same work-related issue, as if you two somehow share the same brain cell. It’s significantly less stressful, no need for unnecessary anger when you have someone as mediating as Namjoon.

After today’s plant lesson, you two go back to the living room to finish up your work for the evening. Another perk of living together is that you can go home at normal work times and continue where you left off with the comfort of your couch and eating a whole pizza pie with no shame.

Namjoon’s phone pings with a new email from corporate. “We got the new concept for next month’s spread,” he gestures to you with a grandiose wave of his arm, “drumroll please.”

He pulls up the newsletter from corporate with a flick of his thumb. Your company put out every month’s concept out in an Evite, like every month was a themed party. A stressful, month long work party. In seconds, the page loaded and you’re met with next month’s title bathed in electronic glitter.

The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth

The two of you say silent, absorbing the concept like a cookie to milk. It’s a personal spread this month, a real treat for the team to show off their normal non-professional life. A spread that reveals the masters behind the ink and text. Last year’s personal spread was about the staff’s vacation destinations, but this year’s is much more intimate. You can imagine all the ideas that will be thrown around on Monday’s meeting: pinning down shared ideas like Throwback Thursdays, late night munchie runs, drunk stories, and all the crazy college nostalgia that you’ve been trying to avoid as of late.

But now it’s presented to you in a gold chalice, and while you’re sick of the past you think it’s about time to face it. You’re excited to tackle the dark monster you’ve suppressed since Jungkook and Jisoo’s breakup.

“Did I ever tell you I was president of my university’s Mock Trial?”

“No, I always thought you’d be president of the Comparative Literature Club or whatever. But Mock Trial is equally as nerdy.”

“I’ll have you know Mock Trial got me tons of action,” he winked, “made me very convincing.”

“Gross,” you sneer, “so that’s what your spread will be about? How the co-editor of the Arts & Entertainment section managed to bag with his skills from Mock Trial?”

“Nah, I went on a penniless journey with Jin during spring break. Six days around Malta.”

“That does sound so you,” you sigh, fingers slipping between the cracked screen as you mull over the overly happy Evite, “sounds like a cool story.”

“I know that look,” Namjoon quips, snatching his phone under his nose, “don’t overthink your spread just yet, it’s still the weekend. Now to more important things, what do you want from Taco Bell?”

And because you can’t refuse the combined efforts of nachos and Namjoon’s dimples, you relent for the night and tack the unmade idea to the next workday.

Unfortunately the next workday is just as disheartening. Today’s work meeting is the antithesis of icing on the cake. While your college life isn’t anything remarkable, you didn’t think it was a painfully dull time. With every passing moment and every excited co-worker throwing memories back and forth like ping pong balls, the more you felt inferior by competing with their amazing memories.

“Who can even afford Aruba at twenty-one,” you mutter under your breath, stalking back to your cubicle.

Filling up a whole spread is daunting to you, the thought of Victoria popping her head in your cubicle to ask what you’ve got for the day is practically eating you from the inside out. Maybe your college life was in actuality, super boring? You have no crazy drug trips to tell, any vacations that gave you a life-changing perspective, or an epic love story.

“What’cha got there, partner?”

The third musketeer of your editing team’s caramel eyes peer into your cubicle, causing you to jump in your chair. Vernon wheels around, chair and all to push you into your already cramped space. His gold button up gleams in the sunlight, effectively blinding you.

“If by something you mean nothing, then yeah I got nothing,” you frown, spinning around your chair. “What are you writing about?”

A fond smile melts onto your friend’s face, and you can’t help returning a smile that mirrors his own. You two have fallen back into a good place, as far as you know. He’s still easy, simple, sweet Vernon. When you dropped some boxes off in coloring, you heard that Vernon and Yerin have recently started seeing each other.

“Thought of the idea as soon as the Evite came out. It’s more of a photo spread, but I’m gonna write about my study abroad in NYU,” Vernon ticks a pencil on his forehead, “a self-identity piece talking about how I felt like, not-white around my family n’stuff. And then felt not-Asian at the same time, s’complicated but I think I can make it work.”

“Deep,” you pat his shoulder caringly, knowing that Big Hit is a good outlet for these kinds of subjects, “alright City Slicker, since you’re so full of ideas then tell me what to write about.”

Vernon sits up straight, regarding you with narrowed eyes, “Aren’t you gonna write about your little love triangle with Jisoo and Jungkook?” and it seems like he’s already storyboarded the idea in his head, gesturing to the air as if he’s writing down a timeline, “I can see the headline now: How to Steal a Heart,” he’s grinning, nodding fervently as you cross your arms in distaste.

“Vern, are you suggesting that I exploit Jisoo and Jungkook’s personal lives?” while the journalism business didn’t pride itself on sincerity, it did feel wrong to drag in your personal life to that extent.

“Babe, you don’t understand. You have the perfect slice of life story. Everyone’s writing about expensive vacations and that one time they got cross-faded and ended up in Busan,” he squeezes your hand, “but your story, it’s relatable. It’s romantic. It’s angsty. It has closure. No one’s gonna be able to relate to an impulse spending on daddy’s money to Aruba. But first loves? Unrequited romance and all that ish? Everyone can speak to that. And you’re a beautiful writer, they’ll eat up that story like honey.”

“I don’t know, it still doesn’t feel right.”

“Change up the names, twist the story,” he offers easily, knowing you’d put up a fight, “besides, it’s not like you’re planning on talking to Jisoo or Jungkook ever again,” you open your mouth to retort, but Vernon’s phone beeps to the Star Wars theme song and he’s flying out of his chair. “Shoot, gotta go help Joon upstairs. Just think about it, okay? Good luck!” and he’s kicking his chair out with a brown loafer, leaving you with breathing room in your cubicle.

Five seconds later Vernon is jogging back, pointing a finger at you, “And if you do choose to write it, you have to add that Jisoo copped your McDonalds gift card. Like, who does that shit? Couldn’t she have just given it to you and say it was from her and not Jungkook? Seriously fucked up.”

For the next ten or so minutes you mull. Out of all the memorable college events you’ve participated in, the largest one by far is your (now defunct and debatable) friendship with Jisoo, and your (un)requited love for Jungkook. Reluctantly, you must admit Vernon has a sharp idea, busting in like a hero and offering you the most writable piece on a silver platter.

It doesn’t feel morally right just to start writing, because ultimately you can’t feel comfortable until you get the consent of Jungkook. While you don’t want to touch Jisoo with a ten-meter pole, you do want to start talking to Jungkook again now that the waters have calmed.

Your life has moved gracefully up until this point, and you’d like to start being friends with him again. Decision made, you pull out your phone and make an important call.

“Hey Yoongi,” you say nervously. Min Yoongi is Kim Namjoon’s equivalent, Jungkook’s Wusband and former upperclassmen in college.

Said man hums noncommittally on the other line, “Whaddya want, it’s been awhile.”

You stifle a giggle at his apathetic attitude, knowing he’s someone who wastes no time in getting straight to the point. “I just wanna make sure Jungkook’s address is still the same? I know it’s been a couple months, but I need to send him something and I wanna make sure it gets to him ASAP because—”

“Because last time something was sent, your crazy roommate intervened and Jungkook ended up in a two-year half-toxic relationship? Yeah, let’s make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

“Yoongi,” you say slowly, “where are you?”

“Working in the studio,” he tuts, “Jungkook says hi, by the way.”

Typical, cat’s out of the bag. With a roll of our eyes you reply, “Thanks for outing me, Yoongi. Talk to you later.”

“And y/n? Jungkook says he’s waiting.”

With a stupid smile slapped onto your face, you hang up the phone and pull out your stationary kit from under your desk. You pluck out a vermillion red envelope, a color so bold and begging to be seen, you know it can’t possibly get lost in transit. Feeling a little bit like a high schooler as you pull out a glitter jelly pen, you get to writing.

Hey Pretty Boy...

Jungkook and Jisoo are no longer together, evidently.

Their social media runs in different directions, with Jisoo sporting absolute elegance in her work at her family-owned boutique. Her posts are full of shiny outfits and soulless gazes, betraying any pinch of emotion she may have felt over these past few months. Her profile is wiped of any personal posts, all traces of you and Jungkook evaporated from her page. You must admit that she looks good, like a real fashion mogul, but only at the surface level.

Conversely, Jungkook is thriving. It’s evident. Normally he isn’t the type of guy to post so frequently, his habits being often sporadic and limited to sweaty gym stories. But whenever you scroll, it’s pictures of him smiling. Big bunny teeth broken into a genuine, full-bellied laugh. Cute selfies of him and his co-workers. You notice two familiar co-workers in those posts, Irene and Seulgi, two beautiful women Jisoo always felt intimidated by whenever she ranted to you. You conclude positively that Jungkook doesn’t feel tethered and can hang out with all the friends he wants, female and male alike. Jungkook looks free, and you’re happy for him.

It’s another Instagram-worthy moment tonight at McDonalds, where you and Jungkook proposed to meet each other at 12AM.

This time, the letter makes it to its desired destination. You make sure of that because this time you hand-deliver it, slipping under his apartment door knowing he lives alone and no one would be able to access it except him.

You’re parked in an obscure corner, but you can see that Jungkook is currently having a great time with his co-workers for an after work meal. Yoongi is unbothered on his phone, while Jimin and Seulgi are taking turns throwing fries into each other’s mouth. Jungkook is squished between them, scrunching his nose cutely as he tries not to get in the fray of their fry-war.

Your phone pings, and you laugh at what pops up on the screen.

Yoongi: come inside, u loser.

You: can’t ur friend group makes me nervous stop being so dang cute

You: dw i’ll wait, it’s only 11:50

Instead of replying, Yoongi puts his phone down and resumes eating. In turn you pick a playlist, deciding that “summer time high mix✨✨✨” is a theme you need to subscribe to for the rest of the weekend.

Busying yourself by sending some texts to Namjoon and checking some emails, you relax in your seat as you let your brain turn to sludge for the weekend. You’re tired, eyes glazing over as you watch Yoongi elbow Jungkook harshly, forcing him to look out the foggy window.

Jungkook’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas Eve, but instead of Christmas lights it's your car’s lowlights. The graphic designer pays no mind to his friends as they wish him goodbye and goodluck, throwing on his jacket with a wave.

The night air whizzes by, Jungkook’s floppy black strands bouncing with each step as he bounds to your car. He throws your door open, bringing in the cold air as he regards you as easily as an old friend would.

“Hi,” he chirps, placing his tattooed palms by the air vent, “c’mon, let’s order.”

“You know, you could’ve ordered inside and brought it in here.”

“Yeah but then it would take longer to get to you,” the cheeky grin that Jungkook throws at you is unmistakable, “c’mon, get out the car and let’s switch.”

“Huh?”

“You look tired, you didn’t come back from the office again, did you?”

“I did tonight,” you say, “I just really wanted to get the soft copy of the article done and—”

“Out, out!” Jungkook clicks your seatbelt off and he’s coming out of the passenger side, opening your car and pulling you out by the hand, “c’mon, I’ll drive.”

You shake your head, hiding your smile in your hand as you let Jungkook do what he wants. Normally you’d be insulted that anyone suggests they should drive your car but Jungkook would always drive you around, saying he loved long rides. Above all, if you could trust anyone to drive your car, Jungkook is at the top of the list.

Buckling in, you bite the inside of your cheek as Jungkook easily pulls out of the parking spot one-handed. His jacket is pulled up to his elbows, exposing his veins as he expertly whirls the wheel in the direction of the drive-thru. Since college he’s always looked very attractive driving.

Doesn’t mean you have to act like you’re still in college. You tamp those feelings down, knowing that your article probably has you feeling stuck in time.

“—coming along?”

“Wha?”

“I said, how’s the spread coming along?”

“It’s pretty much done, I think. I’ll send you the hard copy when it’s ready,” you tap your fingers against the dashboard, “but are you sure you’re okay with me writing it? I know I’m using a pseudonym and everything for you two but I still feel weird—”

“It’s fine, I think it’s a good thing,” and you still squirm in your seat when he flashes you a genuine smile, “I mean, it kinda is a funny story and I think it’s good for both of us. Like closure, y’know? Moving on and—hi, can I get two Oreo McFlurrys and a large fry? Thanks!” he pulls out his wallet to scan the total on the e-reader. “I mean, didn’t it feel good writing it?”

“Yeah,” you replied honestly, relaxing in your seat, “like, college was fun and all, but when Jisoo kinda ruined all that… after awhile I didn’t think it was ruined after all, y’know? I still made amazing friends and ended up where I wanted to be. I want to show the readers that shit happens, and that’s okay. And if things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.”

The summer playlist hums in the background as Jungkook pulls up to the pick-up window. He thanks the worker and hands you the tray, and you make quick work to put the fries in the first cup holder for optimal sharing. He doesn’t park at McDonalds, but instead smoothly pulls out of the restaurant into the direction of his apartment. It isn’t a particularly long drive, but you figure it would be easier for Jungkook to go home first if you’re already parked at his complex.

“What do you mean by that?” Jungkook parks in the driveway of his apartment, taking his McFlurry from your hands.

“Mean by what?”

“If things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.”

“Well, we’re here now, right?”

Jungkook pops his spoon in, swallowing vanilla and a silly smile through his coral pink lips, “We’re here now,” he repeats.

The night air is cool and your conversation is warm. You promise Jungkook that you’ll send him the final copy of your spread as soon as it’s done, and you two eagerly deviate away from the past and focus on the present.

You can’t help the eagerness that flows between you, as if you’ve never spent time apart like this and it’s only now that you’re reuniting. It must be absence that makes the heart grow fonder, because you swell with affection and you find Jungkook’s presence sweeter than any kind of ice cream.

Are you dating now? Maybe. You and Jungkook are going on dates, everything without the title. McFlurry runs, marathons of HGTV’s Design on a Dime, having lunch at each other’s respective buildings with the Wusbands. Whether these dates are exclusive or not is unknown, but you figure the question will present yourself one way or another.

You’re in a good place right now, potential relationship or not. After all, your priorities are simultaneously positive and in order: family, work, friends, and any potential romantic trysts are at the very bottom. You could kiss the cover of this month’s issue (and trust, you have kissed your own copy multiple times) if it is not for the fact that this specific issue is for Jungkook.

So, romantic trysts and friends have a tendency to flip-flop on your priority list, but only because it’s Jungkook.

Unsurprisingly, there’s no guilt knowing that you’re dating your former best friend's ex-boyfriend.

After a much deserved early work day, Namjoon and the crew arrange a hearty happy-hour filled with good food and enough relaxation to last the weekend. With your combined successes, your team felt like they made the best issue yet. At the heart of it, The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth became a reckoning of each other’s young life. Despite the love and the growth that occurred from your college years up until this point, you’re glad to close that chapter and move forward.

You did not tell Jungkook when the issue would come out, so you think it’ll be a fun surprise for him when he sees it magically show up at his apartment. Bending down you move to slip the issue under his door, one hand pushing it under while one hand braces against the frame to steady your balance.

Just as the shiny cover glides under the door it swings open, and you fall flat on Jungkook’s feet.

Being the little shit he is, he simply giggles at the blunder, looking at you with excited eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he says.

“Creepy as hell, Jeon,” you mutter under your breath, brushing the dirt off your aqua pencil skirt. Looking at him from your spot on the floor and his large height, you grimace. “You look like a middle-aged serial killer looking outside your peephole.”

“Now, we know that’s not true.” he finally offers his hand, easily pulling you up to your feet. You follow him into his kitchen, where he’s cutting up fresh fruit. He throws your issue on the counter, gentle enough so it doesn’t slide off the granite. He gestures to himself with both hands, “me, a dashingly handsome late twenty-something in Nike sweats who can bench-press two of you? Totally not a middle-aged serial killer.”

“It’s in the eyes,” you chastise, “you look crazy.”

“Maybe I’m just crazy excited to see you,” he says with a cheeky grin.

You try your best not to choke on your spit at the cheeseball comment, throwing a blackberry in your mouth. Savoring the burst of tart flavor that fills your mouth, you wait for Jungkook to plate the fruit before meeting him on the couch. He’s holding a prettily arranged plate of berries, bananas, and mango with a huge dollop of whipped cream in the middle. In his other hand is Big Hit’s magazine.

Throwing your blazer on the couch’s arm you don’t hesitate to cuddle up next to him, eagerly waiting for him to read your spread.

The cover gazes back at the two of you like a reflection. The entirety of the staff is posed on the cover, made to look like a class photo. Some of you are holding balloons in your respective school colors, many of you grouping up with whoever happened to go to college together. You and Vernon are wearing matching university sweaters with silly grins on your faces. In the middle of the issue is the editor-in-chief, Victoria Song holding a placard that reads: Class of Youth.

Jungkook spares you a glance from the corner of his eye, your head naturally tucked into his shoulder. With an exaggerated sigh, he fiddles through the glossy pages, “Hmm, which one should I read first?”

“Of course you’ll read mine first,” you pout.

“Ah, Namjoon’s looks really fun. Or Vernon’s? New York looks pretty cool,” he flips to a random page, “wait, Yerin’s spread is a Korean cookbook! I definitely want to make some tuna rice...”

“Jungkook,” you whine, “read mine.”

“I don’t know,” he taps his finger on his lip, “I mean, I pretty much know your spread because I’m already in it. It would be kind of redundant to read it.”

“Kook, you’re being mean,” you glower, rubbing your cheek against his soft sweater. He’s just so damn comfy.

“I’m kidding,” he tugs at your cheek, “where’s the table of contents, first page?”

“I’m on page eighty-three.”

You speed up the process like an impatient child, leaning over to brush the pages to the desired spread. You even dog-earred it, a habit that drives Jungkook crazy as he immediately fiddles to iron out the crease.

“Are you gonna read it to me too, mom?” he teases.

“Okay fine! I’ll be quiet, but don’t take too long.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Eyes fluttering, you let Jungkook take his time to absorb your piece. A roommate by any other (rude) name: the lost letter. A cheesy, gimmicky title that Victoria insisted upon that you had no choice but relent to. The rest of the spread thankfully has a very authentic edge to it, your story laced with photos of you and Jungkook, your internship with Vernon, and most importantly, a scan of the lavender letter that got left in the past.

Jungkook’s not silent through his read-through, either. He laughs at all the right parts, fueling your ego as his smile grows at your favorite lines. While he doesn’t directly engage in conversation, his positive energy is enough for you to make you feel like you’ve done your job right. It’s one thing to write about unknown celebrities and unnamed artists, but for people like Jungkook, the validation is personal.

“It’s beautiful,” Jungkook says when he’s read it thrice through, running his thumb over a picture of you. “Really organic. Really, real.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he chuckles, having run out of adverbs. “It’s funny, too. I liked your little internal monologue. I wish I knew how you felt back then.”

“I wish you did, too.”

You’re quietly munching on a strawberry, looking over a polaroid Jungkook took. It was sometime in the beginning of senior year, where you’ve fallen asleep on his mattress, drool drying on your mouth. Normally you’d be opposed to having such unflattering, grainy pictures amongst your writing, but it encapsulates the youth you’ve tried so hard to chase away.

“How do you feel?” Jungkook says, switching out the magazine for the plate of fruit, placing it on his side.

“Feel great, actually,” you muse, smiling to yourself. By no means are you a hero writing some grand gesture in an entertainment magazine, but you feel like you’ve saved yourself. You’ve savored your youth in four thousand words, cutting out the poison and keeping the moment as sweet as it can be.

“I’m proud of you,” he reaches to ruffle your hair, and you don’t even get mad when it tousles out of your pinned style.

Reveling in the attention, you simply close your eyes and feed yourself a handful of blueberries.

“Love that I make money, but I definitely miss college from time to time,” Jungkook stretches, jostling you out of your comfortable position. “Like I remember Taehyung and I would take turns bringing backpacks to the dining hall so we could stuff fruit in it for later.”

“Yeah, but as much as I loved college I wouldn’t go back,” you nod to yourself, “I’m happy where I am now.”

“What about when we stayed up for midnight breakfast? The dining hall was filled to the brim with food. Remember when I tried to eat a whole stack of pancakes?”

“Jungkook…”

“Or when our classes got cancelled and we went to Lotte World? You ate way too much funnel cake and I had to carry you to the car!”

“Jungkook—”

“And that one time we snuck out to the music hall’s rooftop?” words gush out of Jungkook’s mouth like a waterfall, unable to relent, “that’s when I realized I liked you. I liked you so much, I tried to tell you that night but choked—”

“Jungkook!” and he immediately zips up, frowning. You straighten up, on your knees as you reach over to run your hands through his onyx tresses, moving the styled strands to the back of his pierced ears, “Jungkook,” you repeat softly, “I’ve heard all these stories, I was there for most of them. As much as I love the past… can we talk about something else?” you give him a small, tentative smile to show him you’re not mad, but a little uncomfortable at his reminiscing.

He leans into your touch, pressing your palm against the soft swell of his warm cheek. “Okay,” he agrees, resting one hand on your thigh.

You’re roped in his gaze, and you have to force yourself to breathe when Jungkook moves closer to you. He hooks a leg behind his back, and another across his lap. A cool breeze kisses your inner thighs when your skirt exposes your cotton underwear. You should be embarrassed but instead you’re fixated, unable to understand what he’s trying to accomplish.

“Then I’m gonna talk about the future,” Jungkook traps you between the couch, his thumb running hot circles to where your skirt has hiked up. It exposes a slip of the thigh that Jungkook has seen a million times. He’s seen you walking around your apartment in a large shirt, ridden up to your boyshorts. It’s different now, you feel exposed and tingly, thrumming with excitement. “I like you, obviously anticipated news and old news. I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to go on dates with you, re-watch Avatar, grumble when I force you to come to the gym with me,” he bumps noses with you when you scrunch yours, “I wanna be with you. Heck, I’ve even cleared space in my spare room so you’d have closet space for all your fancy designer suits if you ever need it.”

“You cleared space?” you manage to choke out. Visions of a shared apartment roll through your brain. Cooking meals together, having two toothbrushes side by side, and waking up to his face.

“Of course I did. Do you know how financially attractive you are?” he says lightheartedly, “you’re a sexy working woman and it’s crazy to imagine you’d want to settle for me and my little apartment. But I have to try now because if I don’t, it’ll be too late.”

“That’s not true,” you retort, “you’re not someone I’d settle for. I want you, and no one else.”

He chuckles, running a thumb over your cheek. “Then what are we waiting for? Your key’s hiding under the mat.”

“Jungkook…” on the tip of your tongue lays the words you’re going too fast but it doesn’t make its way to the air.

“But do you really think it’s too fast?” he reads your face clearly, “these feelings never went anywhere. They were locked away, sure. And I loved her,” he can’t even say the name, not when you’re warm and flush against him, “but I loved our friendship more.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you breathe, letting the cogs in your brain roll until sparks develop.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he concedes, “I just wanted to let you know. Could’ve done the letter thing all over again and let the past repeat itself. I know Namjoon wouldn’t hide a love letter for two years, but if I left another damn letter he’d definitely make a copy and tease me about it.”

You snort, pressing your forehead to his. You’re practically buried in the couch now, tingly and vibrating with happiness. “And I’m not going to leave you hanging. I do want to say something,” and he looks at you expectantly, licking the leftover berry juice on his lips, nearly making you miss your train of thought, “I like you too,” you say, the other L-word is also applicable, but you feel like that phrase is reserved for another time, “I want to show you off on work vacations, bring you along as my date and show them you’re my muse,” you confess, “I wanna play video games with you ‘till 2AM, and eat ice cream in the comfort of our apartment instead of our cars because we’re too stubborn to admit we don’t wanna go home without each other.”

Jungkook absolutely preens at the affection, sending you a heart melting smile that has your stomach doing backflips.

“Jungkook, I want to fall in love with you again.”

Your squeal of surprise is swallowed by Jungkook’s lips, tasting of mangoes and berries as strong hands cup your backside, easily lifting you onto his lap. You plop under his strong thighs, feeling them flex against yours. The both of you are pouring in this kiss, raining with promises and hopes for a future with each other. His taste is concentrated, and you can feel the devotion practically injected in his embrace.

When he pulls away his lips are cherry-red and shiny, looking up at you through clear coffee eyes. “This isn’t a dream, right?” he looks at you up and down, unable to decipher fact from fiction, “because I distinctly remember two wet dreams that involve you looking like this.”

Looking down, you heat at the disarray you’re in. Hair wild and parted in different wavelengths, tired of the day’s efforts. Your slightly sheer dress-shirt is rumpled, the lace collar opened with two popped buttons revealing your cleavage, and your skirt is stretched so tight that it’s ruched all the way up your thighs. Sprawled across Jungkook’s lap, you’re dangerously close to something long and hard.

Emboldened, you clutch at Jungkook’s collar, pulling him closer.

“Show me what happens in your dream,” you whisper into his ear, barely brushing your clothed core against his crotch, “maybe we can make it come true tonight.”

You can’t see his face, but you feel something dark and sensual overtake him. The grip on your ass tightens, a delicious pain that has you pressing your breasts against him and nipping on his ear, your tongue darting sensually through the cold silver hoops that dart through his skin.

Within seconds, he rips you away from his neck and demands, “Open.”

Dazed, you barely get a centimeter of your mouth open when Jungkook presses something cold and sugary against your lips. Whipped cream. You manage to take a small bite of the tart strawberry that he holds by the viridian stem, rolling the flavor between your mouth as Jungkook paints the leftover whipped cream over your lips. Once he’s satisfied he then creates a white trail that leads to your cleavage.

Better than any dream, his eyes drink you in like the last glass of water in a desert. Your lips are swollen and parted like a baby kitten, covered in the creamy confection. “So pretty,” he exhales, his hot tongue licking from your cleavage to your lips, swallowing the flavor of you and strawberry juice, “such a pretty girl you are, and all mine.”

“Yours,” you submit easily, rolling your hips against his.

At that moment you think you’re meant to fall in love this way. You can’t imagine the shy, fumbly Jungkook and your equally confused self waltzing around a relationship when you barely had your lives together. The two of you still had growing to do. The wait is certainly worth it, because as you feel his arms tighten around you, you’re sure this love will stay strong.

It’s difficult for you to find a rhythm at first, what with Jungkook’s strength and need to be satiated, both of you are sloppy but the friction is nothing less than delicious. Your finger reaches over to swipe at the leftover cream on the plate, and you press your finger to Jungkook’s mouth, and he immediately complies. A dollop of sweet cream leaks out of his lips and your panties dampen further when you feel his tongue lick you clean, imagaining how good it would feel if it was your pussy he was licking.

Your mouth waters at the feeling of his dick lining up against your core, as sticky as the strawberry juice that clings to your bodies.

“C-can I make a confession? I—oh, Jungkook…” your mind is all fuzzed up when he snaps his hips against yours, causing you to shamelessly bounce on his length.

“Yeah?”

“I… I like it when you use all your strength like that,” his hips slow as your words sink in, but you don’t mind as it gives you time to make a long drag along the entirety of his member. “Everytime you pull me up when I trip, or you come back from a workout, I like it when you carry me around like I weigh nothing.”

“Do—do you think about it a lot?” he grunts, and you stifle a moan when he does a slow, hard drag against your wet folds. “Tell the truth.”

“It’s, it’s embarrassing,” you whimper, unable to think straight with the amount of stimuli you’re receiving.

“Please, baby.”

“Yes mm—oh! I do,” you try to get the words out as quickly as you can. He stops moving, and you groan in frustration so you just lay it all out on the table. “I, I love it when you hold me in your strong arms. And, ah, uh w-henever you come back from the gym you just look so sexy fresh from the shower. Sometimes I think about how you’re too damn nice for your own good but I bet you’d be so rough in bed.”

“Really?” and then he’s shoving you onto the couch, air brushing against your bare thighs as your back hits the beige throw pillows. He’s hovering, dark eyes starting from the tip of your toes to your damp lips. “You like it when I manhandle you? Throw you around like a little doll?”

“All that strength, and for what?” you try to keep your snappy remarks in check, but it’s hard when he’s pressing his straining dick against your thigh, weeping and needy.

“You’re not gonna be joking about my strength anytime soon, baby,” emblazoned, he easily throws your leg over his shoulder, pushing your panties to the side to let your wetness leak out and onto his fingers, “are you gonna complain or be a good girl?”

“Yes, I’m ah—” you wince when he inserts a finger, “I’ll be good for you,”

“My good girl,” he revels in the way you melt under his touch, your previous sarcasm quickly dissolving into a puddle. You always had an inkling that Jungkook would be a sneaky fox in bed, all that muscle hidden behind a kind smile and a penchant for tea with milk and honey.

Jungkook slips in another finger, stretching you and preparing you for what’s to come. He’s scissoring you at a sensible pace that has you squirming and wanting more. To prevent you from shimmying off the couch he holds you down with his free hand, and you love the way he practically feeds you to the couch, hands dancing over your neck as he shoves you further into the furniture.

“You look so gorgeous,” he says, causing you to moan and keen at his attention, “you’re such a strong, gorgeous woman. Having you sprawled out like this, ready to do whatever I want to you is so fucking hot.”

“I’m—I’m only weak for you Jungkook,” you say honestly, tears pricking when he dips another finger. The stretch burns deliciously, and your folds eagerly swallow him up until you’re filled to the brim. Your fingers or toys cannot compare to flesh, and you sigh in relief when you see his inked fingers pick up the pace once more.

“You’re damn right,” Jungkook husks, and with a grain of love he murmurs in your ear, “I’m only weak for you, too.”

And that’s when he snaps, thumb rolling against your bud as he slams his other fingers against you, going at a brutal pace. You cry out, not caring whether his neighbors hear as he pulls you back and forth through pleasure and pain.

“T-too much, Kookie,” you mewl, your hand warbling to find his, “I, ah, ‘m gonna cum!”

“That’s the plan,” he only goes faster, stretching your band further and further before your desired high is reached. His hand trails up to force your chin straight, looking up at him, “let go for me, baby. Wanna feel your pussy clench around my fingers.”

In seconds, you gush. It has you in a slight panic, drunk on endorphins as you try to lift your head up but Jungkook’s hand is firmly pressing you on your shoulder as he fingers you efficiently through your high, the wet squelching sounds only increasing with your cries. His lap is drenched in your arousal, along with his chin and lips glistening with your essence.

He finally releases you when you’re practically shaking, his hands sticky and creamy. You moan when he shamelessly licks them within your view, making sure to wrap his tongue around his ink-stained digits.

“I,” your mouth is dry when you feel the dampness that hits your bottom, “I’ve never, I don’t remember ever—”

Your babbles are lost between your throat and Jungkook’s tongue, shoved deep into your mouth. Tasting your arousal has you practically vibrating in your place, as you two rut against each other like hungry bunnies.

“God, you’re amazing,” he says between pecks, kissing away your face of any tears you may have pricked, “Amazing, adorable, absolutely beautifulIadoreyousoso—”

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you press your hips up, wiggling for more attention, “please fuck me, Jungkook.”

You can’t help the witchy, satisfied smile when Jungkook’s eyes darken to a thick coal, “Anything for you,” he murmurs, swinging your legs between his arms as he lifts you like a feather.

On his lap again, you soon accept that the way you two mesh like puzzle pieces is one of your favorite positions as it gives you both equal space to ravish each other.

Just when your hand trails to the waistband of his boxer briefs and you’re rolling your thumb over its collected moisture, the moment is shattered when the doorbell rings. You jump in his arms, unprepared for your moment to be interrupted.

He groans into the crown of your hair, and you soften in his relaxed hold, “I ordered us pizza,” he nearly forgot.

Perking your head up to look at him you regard him innocently, as if you didn’t release a waterfall on his sweats two seconds ago. “You got us pizza?”

“I knew you’d be coming over tonight,” he’s pouting into your neck, regretting ever having called the pizza guy if he knew this would happen, “Victoria posted the publish date on Twitter. I just didn’t think,” he gestures vaguely to the mess on his pants, “this would happen.”

“Damn, and here I thought I was being sneaky,” you chuckle, flicking his ear playfully.

He gives you an uncharacteristically subby whine, shamelessly upset he has to let you go so fast after he’s given you your first of many highs. Before he weakens further under your beauty, he unceremoniously shoves you off. “Sorry, pretty girl,” you melt at the easy way his pet name rolls off his lips, “can you wait in my room for a bit so I can pay the delivery guy? I don’t want them to see you like this.”

“But I want to eat pizza,” you declare stubbornly, standing up to button your blouse and pull down your skirt.

Before you could fasten one button or pull down one centimeter, his hand darts out to snatch your wrist away from your body. It doesn’t hurt much, but it causes your body to heat in more places than one. He’s sexy like this, demanding your attention. “No,” he rumbles definitively, “my room. Now.”

“Why?” you throw your hands in the air, yelping when he slaps your ass. He makes sure to make it sting, cupping you fully.

“Because,” he says firmly, “you don’t get to eat until I eat,” you whimper when his hand reaches to cup your sex, panties wet and cold without his warmth as he pushes you in the direction of his bedroom.

Oh, you can’t wait for both of you to eat tonight.

some time later.

“Ohmygod the view is beautiful!” Krystal, who works in advertisement, squeals. “No filter needed!”

“Alright alright, make room Princess,” Namjoon teases. With a bump to Krystal’s tiny hips Namjoon shoves you two across the pavilion, putting his arm around you once he finds the perfect angle, “Umji, can you get a pic of me and my Work Wife? I want this on the Big Hit Instagram!”

You hold your straw sunhat down from the salty wind, smiling beautifully as Umji takes multiple pictures of you and Namjoon from her Nikon. Another successful year under your notch, ending with a successful work retreat.

“Namjoon, can I take a picture with my actual wife now?”

“We’re not married, Jungkook,” you chastise, patting the chest of Namjoon’s floral printed Hawaiian shirt so he can switch. Instantly, Jungkook slides up next to you like a picture perfect stock model piece, and you wrap your arms around his trim waist, “we’re not even engaged.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he pouts, looking over the pavilion and adjusting the both of you so there’s a good amount of you and the resort in the background. The sun may be scathingly hot, but it looks beautiful perched over the crystal clear waters. “Namjoon, you got it easy,” Jungkook says when he hands him your phone, “every angle is our good angle, so you can’t mess it up.”

Being the honest man he is, Namjoon knows better and doesn’t say anything to that. Instead he shoots down whatever pineapple-flavored concoction is offered to him on a silver platter, and starts shooting.

“Is this swimsuit new?” Jungkook murmurs into your ear between shots, flicking your little red number by the strap connecting the back, “because I didn’t see this in the luggage.”

You smile big, pearly whites as Namjoon demands to pop out your butt and work it, pressing your body closer to Jungkook’s. “Tiny enough so I could hide it in my purse,” you reply proudly, voice low for only each other’s ears, “why, surprised?”

“Definitely not prepared,” his fingers dig deliciously in your bare flesh, “would Victoria fire you if she catches us doing it in the cabana?”

Amused that your boyfriend now shares your combined awe and fear of your boss, you twist his nipple lightly. He yelps, and from Namjoon’s guaff he’s definitely got that on camera. “We didn’t come to Boracay to fuck in the cabana.”

“Then the hotel room?”

Namjoon hands you back your phone when he considers his job done, letting you and Jungkook have some alone time. You wave your phone in his face, trying to get him to focus on the task at hand. You wanted to post some cute pictures of you and your boyfriend, one to impress the family back home and the Big Hit interns back in Seoul who are absolutely pining for your position.

“Jungkook, they have the water ski thing where you can flip in the water mid air! Doesn’t that sound fun? Or we can go scuba diving, have Filipino food, or get massages. LIterally, we’re on Big Hit’s dime, and the first thing you want to do is go back to the room?”

“Yes,” he pouts petulantly, leaning into the hollow of your ear and whispering, “got a chub on.”

Discreetly so, your hands brush against his navy trunks and you note yes, he’s half hard. “No!” you shake your head definitively, pushing him out of your arms. You’re not letting sex get in the way of your hard-earned vacation, you’re on company dime and you intend to milk every peso of it. “Namjoon, take him away!”

You blow him a kiss and follow another group who’s decided to go eat, watching your boyfriend get dragged away by Namjoon’s long arms. Krystal, who’s been mildly watching the whole ordeal in-between taking selfies, looks at you in awe, “You got it good, bosslady,” she says, and you happily link arms with her in the direction of the restaurants.

You and Jungkook definitely have it good. You don’t see him until dinnertime, looking utterly relaxed as he sips on a mango-muddled concoction. He must’ve gotten a couples massage with Namjoon, cute. Splitting up was definitely a good idea, by the time your meal arrives the two of you are practically leaning against each other, telling each other what events you need to do tomorrow and events you think will be fun to do together.

“Joon,” Jungkook is throwing an arm over your Wusband’s shoulder, mildly tipsy. The image is adorable, as Jungkook long ago previously confessed that he felt a little jealous of Namjoon’s work relationship with you before you were dating. Now, it feels like they’re best friends and you’re third-wheeling. “What do you think about having halo-halo tomorrow? It’s like bingsu but with a bunch of other good stuffs. There’s red bean, mango, ube, ice cream…”

Just as Jungkook begins his tirade of dessert ingredients, you pull up your phone to check on your social media. You smile back at your profile, seeing your latest Instagram post at the very top of the feed. Not to flex, but the two of you look pretty smokin’ since you’ve been keeping up with Jungkook’s insistence to join him at the gym. Jungkook and you are leaning against the pristine veranda, overlooking the clear blue water and a cloudless sky. The smiles you two sport are genuine and utterly in love.

You scroll down the comments, most of them filled with sweet messages but one of them has you doing a double take.

@sooyaaa__: 😒😒😒 knew something was goin on behind my back… good riddance

The smell of Jungkook’s detergent overtakes your nostrils, and you turn to him. He’s stopped talking, now immersed in whatever’s going on in your phone.

“The nerve of her,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, disgusted at her latest comment. “As if anyone would believe her.”

“Yeah,” you echo, “I feel bad for her, though. She’s probably lonely.”

“Her loss, she put this upon herself. Not us.”

You pout, “I know, but she was my friend at one point.”

He frowns, putting an arm behind your backrest. It would be easy for him to say yeah, and she was my girlfriend and one-up you, leaving it at that. But now he knows better, and that friendship is a much better value than an ill-fated relationship. “Sorry baby,” it’s not his fault, but he sees your disappointment in putting out hope for an old friend. He gives you a little smooch on your temple, “do you miss her?”

“The old her, yeah,” you sigh, clicking on her profile, “but now? I can do without her negativity.”

“Okay,” he takes your phone from your hand, “have you ever blocked a person before?”

“No.”

“Well, today’s the day,” he says it so coolly, you barely have time to think when he clicks the ‘block’ button on Jisoo’s profile, then clicking off his phone to put in his pocket. “No more phone for today,” he proceeds to take your plate that was recently served, taking the time to cut your large vegetables into smaller portions. “Like you said, we shouldn’t waste your vacation time.”

Your heart swells with butterflies for Jeon Jungkook, who’s meticulously cutting your food and telling you to relax and stop dwelling on the past. He’s right, if Jisoo’s not going to stick around for the future and continue to cause negativity in your life, why not keep the positives in the past while it lasted?

“You know I love you, right?”

He ceases cutting, and looks at you to pop a sweet potato in his mouth. “Love me enough to do it in the cabana?”

He’s still on that? “Jungkook,” you warn, pretending to get up, “forget I said anything. I’m gonna go karaoke with Umji.”

“Kiddingggg,” he whines, pulling you back down with an outstretched hand, “you know I love you too.”

“You’re terrible.”

“Only this way because I’d know you’d totally be into cabana sex if we were vacationing by ourselves.”

“Yes, but you’re still terrible,” you giggle when Jungkook steals a kiss, just as easy as he’s stolen your heart.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #gcn23 #goldenclosetnet #btsghostie #jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts fic #bts smut #a big weight is off my shoulders

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reidyoulikeabook · 3 years

Note

hi i saw that your requests are open for the night for that list and i feel like 15&35 with spencer might be all i need to survive

anyways i’m on anon bc i’m scared you’ll hate this request but just know your writing is my favorite i would read your grocery lists at this point

excuse me i love this request please do not disparage yourself ever again <3 that’s the loveliest thing anybody has ever said to me and i will now think of you and this compliment whenever i write a grocery list

Ship: GN! (wears a bra, no mention of gender other than this) Reader x Spencer Reid

Warnings: Mentions of canon-typical case things, pining, mild thievery.

Word count: 2.4k

Prompts: #15 - "You’ve just won one free pass to my bedroom.”

#35 - “Well fuck, didn’t expect to be announcing my undying love for you this early in the morning.”

A/N: This got so ungodly long I’m so sorry I don’t even know if I can call this a blurb at this point it’s a full fic but I loved this idea so much and it ran away from me.

PLEASE let me know what you think because I bashed this out in the span of an hour and I’m not sure if I love or hate it.

Rossi’s spitballing theories behind you. Your head lolls on the desk, feeling far too heavy to attempt lifting up at this time of night. The case was hard, you were sleeping in shifts, and somehow you, Rossi, and Reid had drawn the short straw. Your eyes are blearing a little too much to make out the exact time on the clock, it’s on the opposite side of the room and your eyes burn when you squint to look at the time; you’re fairly certain you’re somewhere on the wrong side of 3am.

23 hours awake.

Sighing, you push yourself up, looking around and only now noting that Spencer isn’t in the room. He must have made his exit while you were flicking through the files making notes, it was often easier to do that with your headphones in.

Thankfully, you'd set up shop in a conference room at the hotel, given the local PD was tiny and barely equipped to handle its own officers.

“What about the meat packing district?” Rossi muses.

It’s a rhetorical question but one you actually have an answer to, “I don’t think so. The busiest part of the city is between the meat packing district and where he’s dumping the bodies. Cops do random stop-and-searches sometimes, I don’t know if he’d risk it.”

“He could drive around.”

You frown, thinking, “He’d be crossing state lines. Hey, wait,” You stand up from your chair, walking to the board and starting drawing circles that illustrate your point, “Spencer thought there must be a pattern, right? But it died off here and we didn’t know about any more victims. If we expanded the search to outside of state lines it might connect here, here, and here,” You circle each here with a point, tapping the pen against the board triumphantly.

Rossi smiles, “Good thinking kid. I’ll call Garcia.”

Exhausted from your breakthrough, you flop back down into the chair. The clothes you’ve been wearing are icky, uncomfortable with sweat and flying and you’re strongly regretting your choice in underwear now too.

You hear the door swing open, looking up to see Spencer entering the room. Holding your go-bag. The one you’d left on the jet this morning. The jet that was a two hour drive from your current location.

“Where did you? When did you?” Your incoherency is related to both your tiredness, and his thoughtfulness.

He smiles, “It took some calling around but I found a cab driver willing to go and pick it up. It just got here.”

“Spencer I-,” You start, scrambling to your feet to accept the bag he’s offering to you, “Thank you. That’s so sweet of you. How much was the cab?”

“Don’t worry about it,” He says, handing it to you and heading over to the board, “What are these?”

Rossi - who was watching the exchange with some amusement - starts explaining the eureka moment you’d had. Spencer nods along, turning to smile at you when Rossi credits the thought to you. It’s something he does a lot, Rossi’s noticed. Not in a condescending way, Spencer knows more than anyone just how capable you are at your job. It’s as if he needs to channel his love for you somewhere, and chooses pride. It’s the easiest one to explain, after all, because who isn’t happy for their colleague making breakthroughs?

That’s how Spencer justifies it anyhow.

You leave the room, heading to the bathroom to change. You’re incredibly grateful to slip out of your dirty clothes and the bra that’s cutting into you, so much so that you decide to pop on a t-shirt under your blazer. The sports bra and t-shirt combo revitalises you more than you thought possible for this hour.

Digging through, you find an item that you didn’t pack. A pair of brown fluffy slippers. Attached to them, a note, ‘I thought the heels on your boots looked uncomfortable, and I didn’t want your feet to hurt. - Spencer.

He signed the note. Something about that, alongside the gift itself, sends a flush of warmth through you.

He gave you his slippers

So?

Is that something friends do?

Wracking your brain, you try to think up if he’d do this for anyone else. Hotch? The thought makes you laugh. Emily? Maybe, actually. If she didn’t make it so hard for others to take care of her. Penelope? Almost definitely.

Your heart sinks a little, and you distract yourself by fumbling to get your work boots off and the slippers on.

It doesn’t matter it isn’t romantic, it matters that he did it.

It matters to every other person you date

He sets an impossibly high bar

Thankfully, the late hour means that there aren’t many local PD still hanging around to see your interesting choice of shoe. You slip through to the conference room, where Spencer and Rossi are huddled over the phone talking to Garcia.

Spencer does a double-take. He knew the gift he’d given you, but he hadn’t expected to see you...wearing them? You look beautiful: hair mussed from fiddling with it, an old college t-shirt under your blazer, brown fluffy slippers on your feet. The mix of professional and homely attire does something to him that he can’t quite explain, and he has to clear his throat before making his next point to Garcia.

Did he just blush?

You try not to stare at him, try not to see if that’s a tinge of red creeping up under his turtleneck.

It is.

“Thanks Garcia,” Rossi clips, hanging up the phone, “I’m going to go and find some coffee. You two,” He points, looking knowingly between you, “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

No sooner has Rossi left the room, you both try speaking at once.

“You look-” He starts.

“Thank you so-” You start.

You both tinge with warmth.

“You go first,” He says, gnawing at his plump lower lip, finger turning oer the pen in his hand.

You laugh, a little breathless, “Well fuck, I wasn’t expecting to be announcing my undying love for you this early in the morning.”

His eyebrows quirk, is that...hope?

No. Wishful thinking

It’s probably confusion, and you’re a little embarassed, so you quickly clarify, “I mean Spencer Reid this is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me. I’m endebted to you forever, really.”

A look washes over him: disappointment? You can’t trust your eyes to see the clock, so you feel you can’t entrust them to analyse his micro-expressions right now either. Especially when you’re biased by personal desire.

“It’s no problem,” He says, voice cracking a little, “You look...” He trails off.

“Unprofessional?” You suggest, teasing.

He shakes his head, swallowing, “You look really nice.”

It’s your turn to swallow. You drop your gaze to the pen, feeling too flustered to continue looking your colleague in the eyes at this moment in time, “Thank you. Where did you get slippers at this time of night?”

He shifts, one hand settling over the wrist of the other and fingers nervously rubbing over the back of his hand, “They were uhm. They were mine.”

“Yours?”

“Yeah,” It comes out pitchy, a squeak, “I’m sorry, that’s probably weird I just thought-”

“No, Spence,” You say, looking up at him and giving him a genuine smile, “No, it’s really sweet. I’m really lucky to have you.”

He gives his signature tiny tight-lipped smile, the one he gives when he’s feeling awkward or suppressing something he wants to say but can’t.

Please let it be the latter.

You relinquish him of the obligation of responding, instead standing to join him at the board, “You think you’ve got enough to make a geographical profile out of this?”

He nods, tapping the board with his pen, “Your idea about crossing interstate lines was really smart.”

“I have my moments.”

He wants to tell you that everything you have is a moment. You want to step closer, to cup his face in your hands, to press a kiss to the lips that you swear are pouting, begging to be kissed. You don’t.

Namely, because Rossi chooses this moment to re-enter the room, clutching three cups of coffee, “A little help here?”

From the way you spring apart, despite not even being that close, he wishes he’d taken a little longer. Damn kids and their inability to express their feelings for one another.

***

It’s 4:30am when the alarm on your phone goes off. With the work of the four of you - Garcia sporadically included when she had genius updates - you’ve managed to uncover a pattern that arches across states. You’d called Hotch, who’d commended the good work and advised that you should head to bed at 4:30. The others would get up then, and start to head out to the different potential crime scenes. Local PD was already on it.

You’d been told under no uncertain terms that you were to rest until at least 10am. Unless there was a call from Hotch. You prayed there wouldn’t be.

Rossi’s off the minute the alarm rings, bustling out the door with a “See you later kids.”

You wait behind while Spencer packs his things into his satchel. Or rather, unpacks his things from his satchel, frantically tearing it apart.

“What are you looking for?” You ask.

“My key card,” He murmurs, “I swear it was in my wallet.”

“You were rooming with Morgan, right? Want me to call him?”

“Yes please,” He says, continuing to unearth the contents of his bag onto the desk, with an increasing degree of agitation every second that goes by.

You dial Morgan’s number, and he answers after two rings, “Hey kid.”

You put the phone on loudspeaker.

“Hey. I’m with Spencer, we’re about to head up to our rooms for the night, are you still here? He can’t find his keycard.”

He lets out a breath of air through his teeth, “Sorry, I’m already on my way to one of the crime scenes. Local PD found a body over the state line. Nobody’s at the hotel but you guys and Rossi.”

Spencer outwardly sighs.

“No problem, we’ll figure something out.”

“Alright, good work kid, get some rest.”

The phone line clicks. Spencer’s brow is pinched with frustration, and your heart breaks for him. You’ve all been awake well over 24 hours, and he looks exhausted. He’s more eyebag than man at this point.

“Do you want me to go to the front desk?” You ask.

He shakes his head, “Reception doesn’t open until 6am. I’ll just wait here until then.”

He starts packing the belongings back into his bag, a resigned look on his face. And you have an idea.

“Actually,” You say, pulling the keycard out of your pocket and sliding it across the table to him, “You’ve just won one free pass to my bedroom.”

He picks the card up, squinting in confusion.

“Me and Rossi both got put in single rooms. I mean, it might not be the most comfortable thing in the world, both of us in a single bed, but it’s better than nothing right?”

He opens his mouth to object, and you shake your head.

“Spence you look like you’re about to drop unconscious on the floor and I don’t want to be responsible for yet another injureid.”

You’re so tired that the pun seems hilarious to you, and it does elicit a small laugh from him.

“Come on, it’s either share a bed with me, share a bed with Rossi, or try to sleep in one of these chairs. And I’ll be honest, I’d be kind of offended if you’d rather either of the other two options.”

“I can sleep on the floor,” He says, obviously warming up to the offer but not wanting to push his luck. You can hear the hesitancy in his voice.

“You can. But you won’t,” You tell him, settling your go-bag on your shoulder, “And might I remind you that all this time you’re spending objecting are minutes we could be spending sleeping.”

That seems to win him over. He tucks everything back into his bag, zipping it up, “After you.”

“You have the keycard,” You smile, “After you.”

***

The bed is a single bed. It prompts another round of ‘No really, I can sleep on the floor’ from Spencer, your enquiries about if it’s too much for his germaphobia or issues with touching, and his blushy embarassed reassurance that he doesn’t mind if it’s you.

He doesn’t mind if it’s you.

Not as if you’ll spend the next year mulling over those words or anything.

When you get out of the bathroom from changing, Spencer is tucked up in bed. Well, you say tucked up, but he’s practically lay right on the edge. How he’s actually physically still being supported by the mattress at this point must be his physics magic.

“I thought I said I didn’t want you getting injured,” You say, crossing the room to him.

He opens his eyes, “I didn’t want to-”

“It’s okay Spence,” You tell him, huddling down into bed.

There’s about enough room for you both to fit in, with an inch between you, so you pull gently at his arms, urging him closer.

“There’s enough room for us both without you going flying in the night,” You tell him.

He nods, obviously still a little nervous. It’s odd, lying face to face with him, illuminated only by lamplight. He looks soft. He always does, but there’s something intimate about this. You can feel his breath fan across your cheek, can feel how heat radiates off his arms.

“Do you want me to turn the lamp off?” He asks.

It’s not your staring that implores him to ask, because he’s been staring at you too. The both of you, trapped in a perfect bubble of a moment. Lamplight a spotlight, highlighting all the features of the person you love most.

“Sure,” You whisper, breath catching in your throat.

He flicks it off, settling back down.

His breath brushes against your face when he asks, “Do you want me to turn around?”

“Do you want to?”

He hesitates for a moment, voice even softer when he answers, “No.”

It’s dark. You can hardly make out his outline. Yet somehow, you both just know. Shifting, infitismally closer. Breaching the tiniest gap between you somehow feels like crossing the Grand Canyon. Your heart thumps in your chest, and you can feel it in your fingers, the fingers that trace cautiously along his jaw.

His mouth finally, finally, slotting against yours in the most gentle of kisses. A blink and you’d miss it.

And yet, in the same blink, your life changes forever.

When Rossi makes a speech at your wedding, he admits to being the thief of the missing keycard, and intentional orchestrator of the greatest love story he’s ever known. His words.

---

Permanent tagslist: @reidingmelodies @takeyourleap-of-faith @sassiest-politician @calm-and-doctor @ssa-m-187 @seasonfivereid @averyhotchner @muffin-cup @purplewaterbottles082 @spencerreid9 @drspencerreidd @reidsnose

(message/reply to this to be added or removed!!)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #reid x reader #imagine spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #imagine criminal minds #criminal minds x you #spencer reid fluff #can't believe queue've done this

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highqueenofelfhame · 3 years

Text

no tag list bc im posting this from my phone and am too lazy so pls reblog so this gets traction! thank you for reading and follow @highqueenofelfhamewrites for better and more frequent updates and turn on post notifications! i might do away with tag lists soon idk. the whitethorn kids are headcanons from @musicmaam and i so i hope you love the babies we love them very much and becca is a mastermind

masterlist

Outside, it was a still and quiet morning. Despite the sun having risen hours ago, the sky remained a murky gray. Dew clung to the grass and a light fog remained settled over the landscape. It looked cold and like the kind of day that would usually have Aelin curled up in the study, a roaring fire warming the room while she sat in one of the oversized leather chairs and reread a favorite book. Rowan knew that once outside, the cool air would be a sharp bite at his skin. It’s how Terrasen always was in early November.

Instead of reading, though, Aelin was staring at her side of the closet. Her fingers nervously tapped above her elbow while she surveyed dresses and pantsuits, jackets and turtlenecks. More than once she had murmured that she never knew what to wear, and more than once he had told her that it really didn’t matter and she would look beautiful all the same.

A level below, Rowan heard the front door open and close, followed by their oldest son, Arden shouting up the stairs that they were home. They referred to him and his boyfriend, Jamie, and Aelin and Rowan’s oldest, Evalin. The three had driven from the University of Orynth on the other side of the city to the family’s house on the outskirts of town.

Genevieve, Declan, and Endymion, the younger half of the Whitethorn kids, were all getting ready. Genny had been up with the sun to make breakfast for everyone, her hands sticky with cream cheese frosting and cinnamon by the time she had finished. Declan and Endy were down the hall, fighting for counter space in their shared bathroom while Genevieve finished up at the vanity Rowan had built her last year in her bedroom.

More noise followed the voices downstairs turned to a quiet murmur as Rowan approached his wife and rested his hand on her lower back. Aelin leaned back on her heels and into his touch, turning her head slightly. Rowan pressed a kiss to her temple and she shivered, reaching out for the dress that he knew she’d end up picking. It was his favorite.

“Perfect choice, fireheart,” he murmured, rubbing his hand across her middle back as she sighed and pulled it off the hanger that she dropped to the floor. Rowan chuckled to himself, nudging it toward her pile of shoes as he followed her back out into their bedroom.

Rowan was already showered and dressed. He wore a simple black suit with Aelin’s favorite dark green tie— one that she claimed brought out his eyes, though Rowan hadn’t noticed a single difference as he tied it around his neck.

“You are worrying about nothing,” he murmured into her hair, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. Aelin shuddered a sigh, licking her lips as she turned to look at Rowan over her shoulder. Their eyes met for a single heartbeat before moving to the door.

“I hope Arden and Evie remembered to pick everything up this morning.”

“I’ll go check,” he promised, squeezing her shoulder before walking away. Rowan paused in the doorway, turning to look at his anxious wife. She stood in front of the window, dress draped over one arm while she twisted her wedding band around her finger. It made his heart squeeze in the most painful way, but he left her and jogged down the stairs to where the rest of his family mingled in the kitchen.

Entirely typical of his children, none of them looked up when he entered. Gen was dressed in leggings and an oversized sweater, manning the stove to make everyone else eggs. Endy and Declan were arguing over who got the cinnamon roll in the center of the pan: it was the most gooey and beheld more icing than the others. Declan won out in the end, but only because Genevieve pointed a spatula at Endymion to remind him of a petty crime he’d committed against her the day before.

“You don’t deserve that cinnamon roll. You know what you did.” Endy snorted, but relented, allowing Declan to eagerly swoop in for the golden treat. A large dollop of icing slipped off the side, barely making it onto his plate as he did. Endymion sighed wistfully, likely dreaming of how good that would have been in his stomach instead of his brothers. Rowan laughed to himself, ruffling Endy’s hair as he walked by. His youngest shrugged him off with a shiver, lips pulling down into a frown while he looked over at his father, then to his older sister as she walked into the room.

“Has mom been down yet?”

“She’s still upstairs,” Rowan said, while the other kids mumbled that she’d yet to come down. Arden and Jamie slid into the empty barstools at the counter, accepting plates of bacon and eggs from Genevieve. “Can someone go check on her?”

“I’ll go,” Evie decided, heading up toward Rowan and Aelin’s bedroom, stairs creaking with every step.

Genevieve was watching Evalin up until she disappeared at the top of the landing, her lips twisting to the side as she shifted to turn the stove off. The kitchen settled into a comfortable silence, the scraping of forks the only disruption. Genny poked at the cinnamon roll she’d chosen for herself before pushing it away, toward Endy.

“I can’t eat,” she said quietly, tapping her phone screen, the time blinking up at her before it went dark again. It seemed that Endy could eat, however, because he pulled her plate over and dove into her cinnamon roll immediately after finishing his. It was almost enough to make her smile but she seemed to be fighting it off. Rowan moved to wrap his arm around his daughter, but she shrugged out of his embrace and disappeared up the stairs. If he had to guess, she was joining Aelin and Evalin.

“I’m worried about her,” Rowan and Arden said at the same time, the former cracking a half smile.

“Me too,” Endymion agreed, fingernail tapping against the counter while he looked over his shoulder. Rowan opened his mouth to speak, but the soft closing of a door followed by the squeak of the top stair silenced him. A moment later, his three girls were filing into the kitchen. Aelin hugged each of her babies, pressing kisses to their cheeks that they didn’t shy away from.

“We ready?” Arden asked, picking up the bag he’d brought in with him. Aelin nodded and rubbed her hand over Genny’s upper back.

Genevieve had always been the most anxious of their kids in the worst way. Over the last year, her panic attacks had only gotten worse and nobody really knew how to help her. A few months ago, she had finally caved and agreed to start taking medicine for it when she needed to. Judging by the way she stood, worrying her lip and twining the ends of her silver hair into tiny braids, Rowan wondered if she was already debating taking one of those pills to keep the monsters of the day at bay.

The ride was quiet. The only conversation consisted of Aelin and Rowan asking Evalin, Jamie, and Arden about their college courses. The youngest three Whitethorns stayed quiet and listened while looking out the windows and tapping on their phones. No music filled the empty silences— the last five minutes was nothing but garbled road noise and turn signals, the occasional sniffle of a nose, or a small sigh.

When the car was put in park, nobody moved immediately. Aelin stared through the windshield, fingers drumming on the gear shift. Rowan lay his on top of hers, but she didn’t look over at him. Instead, she tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and, after several heartbeats, nodded. Only then did the kids file out of the back seats, Genevieve going to take her mother’s left hand while Arden took her right. Rowan walked beside Endymion and attempted to steady his son when he stumbled over a rock that was hidden in the grass.

They walked through the cemetery, moving by headstone after headstone. Some of them were large and ornate weeping angels, others were crosses jutting out of the ground. A fair few were simple concrete rectangles in the ground with a vase for flowers. The one they came to stop at was something in between.

It was about two feet high in the middle of the graveyard, simple text embedded into the shiny quartzite stone. A large hawk had been carved into its surface, wings spread wide mid-flight, beak parted as though it were releasing a fierce battle-cry. There was no vase for flowers anywhere near it. Instead, piles of stones were left all around it. They were in all shapes, sizes, and colors. One had a painted hawk on the surface that he knew Genevieve’s boyfriend had left behind at the funeral last year.

Arden placed the bag he carried on the ground and they let Aelin be the first to pick her stone. She picked a large smooth one, a paler gray than the headstone itself that fit perfectly in her palm. She folded her legs beneath her body as she knelt before it, trembling fingers tracing over the name.

ROWAN M. WHITETHORN

JULY 16, 1970 - NOVEMBER 11, 2020

HUSBAND. FATHER. HERO.

TO WHATEVER END.

A breeze shifted through the air, moving Aelin’s hair across her face and she could have sworn it was warm. She could have sworn she smelled the familiar pine and snow scent that she would always and forever associate with her husband. Aelin could have sworn it felt like a lover’s caress, like fingers brushing away the tear that slipped down her cheek.

Aelin wasn’t sure how long she sat there, surrounded by their children. Each of them swapped their favorite stories about their late father, about what they missed most. All of them cried enough tears that Terrasen could hit a rare drought but the patch of grass they held each other in would still be green as ever.

When they finally stood, the air had dropped a few more degrees because the sun had never come out to keep them warm. It made that fleeting warm breeze even more bizarre, the one that smelled like him, considering the one that rustled the leaves on the nearby tree was cold enough to bite.

Out of the corner of her eye, she swore she saw him. She swore she saw a head of silver hair sock his head in her direction, but she blinked and he was gone, her oldest son stepping up in the place she thought she saw him, felt him, smelled him. Silver hair faded into a golden blonde that matched her own, but the eyes that peered down at her were as bright green as his father’s. Aelin felt her face crumple as she leaned into him, resting her temple against his shoulder. She inhaled hard, desperate for that pine scent to feel her lungs, desperate to erase the last year of her life without him. Desperate to pretend that he was still alive and it was his shoulder that she put her weight on.

But it wasn’t. And it wouldn’t be.

Still, as she looped her arm through his and started to walk back toward the car with their kids, she spared a last glance over her shoulder, projecting their vows into the void of the world: to whatever end.

She wasn’t sure what it was, but Aelin was almost positive she heard his voice whisper it back as another strange, warm breeze wrapped around her and left her completely breathless.

#tog #rowaelin #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #writing #my writing #aelin galathynius #whitethorn clan #whitethorn kids #tog gen 2 #fanfic #tog fic #tog fanfic #happiness

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bratkook · 4 years

Text

rough hands. (m) jjk

pairing : tattooed!jungkook x tattooed!reader (slight fuckboy!jk)

word count : 12k, (i hate myself why cant i ever write anything shorter than 10k goodbye)

genre : (fr)enemies to lovers, smut, this is for @mygukandonly ty for the idea and for sharing my thirst for jungkook lmao also ps. if you read this/enjoy it pls reblog bc tumblrs tags are dead af tysm

warnings : overstimulation, dirty talk (its kinda sweet tho?), playful banter during sex, unprotected sex

summary : how is he meant to confess that he’d tear off his left arm for you if you asked when he can see the way you look at him in disgust when his nervous rambling leads to retelling the raunchy stories of girl’s past

The muffled sound of your roommate and his best friend laughing in the kitchen can be heard through your bedroom wall, a smile spreading across your face when you hear Hoseok’s telltale joyous laugh, no doubt in the middle of telling a story.

You rake your fingers through your hair once more, fluffing it up and stepping back from the mirror to give yourself a once over, your hands tugging down on the tight dress you had on. The black shiny latex hugging your curves in all the right spots and you smirk as excitement fills you when you think of the dumb shit you and your best friend Rina were going to get into tonight.

In the kitchen Hoseok pours another shot for himself and Jungkook, the two of them energized at going out tonight as well, the video game demo they had been working on at work had gotten approved, being given the green light to move further into it so they would be celebrating tonight. The rest of his friends were set to arrive at your shared apartment for some pregame drinks before they left to their designated bar of choice.

“Y/N! Take a shot.” Hoseok shouts out when you step out of the hallway, his head peeking out by the breakfast bar to see you. He’s wearing a simple white tshirt, his colorful tattooed arms on full display as he holds out a shot glass for you to take. As you step closer to grasp it Jungkook’s eyes bulge out at what you’re wearing, he chooses to throw back his shot, letting the burn of tequila take his mind off how hot you looked. Jungkook has had it bad for you for so long, you and Jungkook have ran in the same circle since high school, not exactly friends but there was always a mutual friend linking you two together.

Jeon Jungkook has always been shameless, even at the young age of 16, when his hair was all bangs and the only thing on his mind was bands, shows, and girls. His debauchery only worsened in college when his muscles bulked up and he started experimenting with tattoos, there is nothing horny college girls love more than a man with long black hair and inked sleeves so of course he embraced it.

The social circle you two shared slowly dwindled away after the first year of college as people dropped out, moved out of state or started a career while you finished your schooling. Because of that, you hadn’t really seen or heard much about Jungkook during your last year of college, not sure if he ever finished, dropped out or took a year off. It wasn’t until fate had you responding to a room mate needed ad that lead you to Jung Hoseok and in turn leading you right back to Jeon Jungkook, full circle.

And in that reunion it was made clear that he had stayed exactly the same, the same 16 year old mentality trapped inside a bulked out tattooed man, his new found goal being getting under your skin because he loved seeing you upset.

Your eyes meet Jungkook’s as you grab the shot glass, standing right beside Hoseok as he pours himself yet another shot. He just smirks at you, noticing your added height with the platform shoes you have on, “If you wear those shoes you can get on all the rides at Disney.”

He hides his smile behind the glass, seeing you roll your eyes as you throw back the shot, glaring at him once you swallow it, “Oh shut up, I’m normal sized, it’s not my fault you’re a fucking Titan.”

Hoseok laughs loudly at your comeback, his shoulders nudging Jungkook and seeing him fighting back a smile at your reaction, “Touché.”

The contents of the tequila bottle start to dry out so Hoseok pushes it away, opting for grabbing a cup to start making drinks to pace himself until his friends show up. You have the beginnings of a buzz warming you up, sliding out your phone to see that Rina texted you to come over, wanting to pregame as well before you went out together.

As you start texting her back your ears tune in to the story Jungkook had decided to start telling, reminiscing on the last time they had all gone out to that dive bar. His hands are animated as he tells Hoseok about the drunk girl he had his eyes on, the both of them ending up in the gross bathroom while she gave him a sloppy blowjob, stopping halfway through to puke all over the floor and how it had absolutely wounded his ego. Him and Hoseok are bent over in hysterics as you lock your phone and roll your eyes, like clockwork Jungkook had to start talking about his sexual escapades, “And that’s my cue to fuck off.”

You shove your phone into your tiny side bag as you start to walk away and Jungkook presses his lips together as he realizes once again he said something he shouldn’t have. Hoseok turns to look at you, “You sure you don’t wanna come out with us? It’ll be more fun than that fetish club you’re into.”

You laugh at him, acting as if he didn’t frequent that club as well, “Is Iseul joining you?”

He frowns at the mention of his girlfriend, getting a little sad that she would in fact not be joining him, “No, she’s got an early shift tomorrow so she cant.”

“Sorry but if she’s not there I’m not interested.” You tease with a shrug, throwing your arm up in a wave before leaving your apartment, the door slamming behind you.

Jungkook instantly sulks once you’re gone, mentally slapping himself for always managing to say stupid shit around you. He couldn’t help himself, the small crush he had spawned in high school when you were still the timid girl that wore band tees two sizes too big, and now that you had matured into this, all leather and stockings and tattoos that rivaled his, that crush had bloomed and with it came plenty of wet dreams and fantasies.

He knew he stuck his foot in his mouth every time you two ended up in the same vicinity but his usual confident and cocky self became a nervous fucking wreck around you. His brain chose to either rile you up with mean jokes or let his mouth run on autopilot. Unfortunately the only two topics programmed in consisted of shit regarding his job as an audio engineer for video games or his raunchy one night stands. More often than not it was the latter, talking about vulgar things made you walk away, if he talked about technical shit that you didn’t know about, it left room for questions from you and more of a chance for him to embarrass himself.

He uncaps the tequila bottle again and tips it back, taking a swig from the bottle and accepting that he’d have to live with annoying you from afar.

Its not until you come home that night, absolutely hammered, while hes there that he gets the first glimpse that maybe his dreams aren’t so far fetched. He’s stood in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, the buzz of the night having left him a while ago, a bowl of cheerios in his hand that he’s currently shoveling into his mouth when you stumble in, tripping over the doors threshold as you giggle and attempt to shut it quietly as to not wake up Hoseok.

Jungkook smirks with a mouthful of cereal as you press your forehead against the door and double over in hushed laughter, no doubt remembering something stupid that happened earlier. “You okay?” He finally speaks up, scaring you, you whip around in shock and slam your back against the door, a small whimper of pain leaving you as you slide down until your butt meets the floor.

“Oh shit.” He sets his bowl down and goes over to make sure you’re okay, your body is slumped on the floor with your legs sprawled out and he forces himself to just stare at your face, a small frown on it now that you realize how drunk you are. But thanks to that, the usual dont touch me attitude you normally have is missing, letting Jungkook scoop you up by the arms. He swallows as his fingers go down to tug the hem of your dress since it had rode up from you sliding down, his fingers lingering slightly on your thigh.

Your head lolls over now that he’s holding you up and away from the wall, a small smile on your face as you stare at him, your finger coming up to gently prod at the bar he has in the center of his lip, seeing them curl up as well because fuck are you drunk.

Your eyes are having trouble focusing on him with the dim light and the two shots you took just as you left the bar finally settling into your system but you make him out just fine, the weird orange glow coming from the kitchen illuminating him enough for you to see him. “You’re really cute in this lighting.” You slur out.

Jungkook just blushes, not knowing how to respond to you because you complimenting him was not the norm. When your brain decides that your head is far too heavy to hold up it drops back, showing him the expanse of your neck and the beautiful peony you have at the side of it, just under your ear, leading up to the spot where your neck meets your collarbone and Jungkook can’t stop himself from thinking of sucking hickeys into the skin there, the purple splotches coloring the blackwork tattoo.

“Wow, you’re sloshed.” He hauls you up, the muscles on his body clearly not being for show as he carries you to your room. He flicks the light on and gently places you on your mattress, hearing you groan in protest but otherwise not moving. His hands start to unbuckle the straps to your shoes, cute leopard print platform heels with the words doll face adorning the toe strap and it was very much you.

They land on your hardwood floor with a loud thud but you don’t register it, your eyes staying shut as you shove your face into your sheets. He opts for leaving you in your dress, shoes were fine but clothing was uncharted territory so he just unfolds the fluffy throw blanket at the edge of your bed and drapes it over you. His hands turn you over until you’re on your side, a stack of pillows at your back so he knows you won’t run the risk of choking on your puke if the situation arises. When he knows you’re no longer at risk of dying he starts to get up, your hands coming to grasp his and it startles him to see your drunk eyes blinking at him softly.

Your lips are moving but he can’t make out what you’re saying so he inches closer, “Huh?”

When hes about a foot away your hands cup his cheeks and bring him in for a quick kiss, the scent of vodka filling his nose as he feels the softness of your lips, “Thank you Jungkookie.” The phrase slurs together in an almost incomprehensible sentence but he hears it as he pulls back, your eyes shutting and your hands dropping and laying limp beside you as you knock out.

Jungkook just stands at the edge of your bed, watching you sleep for a moment before he scurries out to the living room, forgetting about his cereal and collapsing onto the couch to crash, his hands rubbing his eyes almost as if he’s trying to wake himself up from the dream he swears hes in.

His night had been restless, he couldn’t even blame it on sleeping on a couch, he usually did that when he and Hoseok went out and he had to carry his best friend home. No his dreams had consisted of you and that damned latex dress, the small innocent kiss you gave him spurring him on, so he was thankful when he woke up and no longer had to be scared of you walking in on him saying some shit in his sleep.

Hes currently sprawled out on the couch, shirtless with his grey sweats on, one hand tucked behind his head as the other fiddled with his phone, scrolling through instagram and shamelessly rewatching your story for the millionth time. He just couldn’t stop replaying a video of you speaking into the camera, very drunk with a massive smile as you tried to get your friend who was in the background to face the camera, erupting into a laugh that made him smile along.

His finger presses down on his screen, pausing the video as his ears pick up the sound of a bedroom door opening, either Hoseok was up or you were. He wasn’t sure who he was hoping for but when he sees his friend walk out of his room with bedhead he wishes it was you.

Hoseok smacks his lips together a few times, his squinty eyes looking at Jungkook as he smiles, “How’d those jäger shots treat you?”

Jungkook laughs as he recalls Hoseok egging everyone on to take more of them, sitting up and ruffling his wavy hair, “I can still bounce back as quick as I did when I was 16.”

Hoseok just groans, his palm rubbing his forehead, “Wait until you hit 26.” He waddled into the kitchen and begins rummaging around, the sound of pills shaking in a container being a telltale sign that Hoseok desperately needed advil.

“Hungry?” He calls out and Jungkook hums in response, he was very hungry, he hadn’t wanted to get up and make himself food since last time he did he had mistakenly used up the last of your oat milk and you had been furious, tossing the empty carton at his head when you had tried to make yourself a bowl of cereal. “You cool with pancakes?”

“Dude you could give me a still frozen eggo waffle and I’d be grateful.”

Hoseok laughs loudly at his statement, pots and pans clanking together as he sets up and Jungkook winces, your bedroom shared a wall with the kitchen so it was only a matter of time until the noise woke you up.

It takes roughly 15 minutes of Hoseok chatting and the noise of the mixer to stir you from your sleep. Your mouth is dry and your eyes are pulsing from your headache when you fully awake, pushing yourself up from your bed you’re confused as to how you even got into it. The black dress you wore dug into your skin, the straps leaving deep imprints in your shoulders from the way you slept.

“What the hell.” You moan out, rolling your neck and staring down at the mountain of pillows that were laid out in a specific shape. Had Hoseok hauled your ass to bed last night?

The muffled sounds of chatter start back up, the smell of pancakes slipping under the crack in your door and you grin, hoping Hoseok had added chocolate chips into the mix.

Pancakes were a necessity right now, your stomach felt hollow and from past experiences if you waited too long to eat after drinking all night your hangover would last way longer, so you stand up, your sore feet aching as you shuffle to your drawers and pull out comfortable clothes.

When your door creaks open Jungkook stops talking, his fork staying impaled in the pancakes as the sound of your feet padding on the hardwood floor gets closer. Hes sat on the tall barstool facing the breakfast bar, Hoseok stood on the other side of it, both of them in the middle of eating when you finally show yourself.

Your eyes zero in on Jungkook and you frown, hes sitting shirtless, half of his back and side facing you, letting you see the swirls of black ink that cover the majority of his body. Your eyes follow the dragon that starts on his shoulder, tracing the head all the way down as its body curves and twists until the tail peaks away under the hem of his sweats, but you can’t drool over him, no matter how delicious he looked so you opt for being a brat.

“Don’t you have a home?”

Hoseok chokes on his laughter, seeing Jungkooks cheeks redden as he stares back at his plate. Did you not remember planting one on him last night? You were very drunk but c’mon, could the universe throw him a bone for once.

“Here, your stacks are over there, chocolate chips and all.” Hoseok flicks behind him, your gaze following and seeing the plate of pancakes with your name written all over it. The smile you have contrasts deeply with the look you had just given Jungkook, you were a sucker for chocolate chip pancakes.

You walk into the kitchen space and fix yourself up a plate, scooping out some of the leftover eggs in the pan and choosing to stand next to Hobi instead of sitting beside Jungkook. You’re both crammed on the small counter space beside the sink, the two of you had never gotten around to buying a dining table and always suffered the consequences so you always managed.

You lift up the plate to your nose and inhale, sighing in appreciation, “Hoseok, Iseul is one lucky lady. Why hasn’t she put a ring on it yet?” You tease, setting the plate down and grabbing the syrup bottle to drown your pancakes in the sticky goodness.

Jungkook is blatantly staring at your plate in disgust, his eyes looking between his plate and your own, your pancakes covered in the thick syrup, the excess dripping off and pooling into your eggs.

“Jesus what.” You snap, setting the bottle down rather aggressively, sending him daggers as his face scrunches up at your food.

“Thats fucking disgusting.”

“You like your pancakes bone dry, I don’t fucking judge you so don’t judge me. We’ll see who’s laughing when you’re choking on your dry ass food.”

Hoseok just stands there as he eats his eggs, a stupid smirk on his face as you banter like children. It’s always entertaining for him, he wishes he could record every interaction because you and Jungkook were the same person, the same sick sense of humor and quick drags made for some interesting comebacks.

He can see Jungkook getting increasingly flustered as you both continue shooting insults at each other about breakfast food, the dreaded oat milk fiasco being brought up and when you point your fork at Jungkook threateningly thats when Hoseok steps in as referee. “Alright, alright children enough!”

He raises his arms up, silencing you both and forcing you to drop your makeshift weapon, “Jungkook, you know the oat milk scandal is a sensitive subject so minus 10 points for bringing it up.” Jungkook glares when you poke your tongue out at him, “And Y/N, Jungkooks right, you drowning your shit in syrup is disgusting so minus 15 points for that.” And now Jungkook is grinning at you mockingly, enjoying the shock on your face as you look at Hoseok, calling him a traitor and picking up your plate to go eat in your room since no one fucking appreciates me in this stupid house!

When your door slams shut Jungkook chuckles, his tongue prodding at his cheek as he shakes his head and resumes eating his breakfast. Hoseok holds his coffee cup next to his lip as he stares at his friend, “You two fight like a married couple.”

Jungkook’s reaction is immediate, scoffing and rolling his eyes, “She’s just annoying.”

Hoseok hums, nodding along like he believes Jungkook, “Ah, so are we both still pretending you don’t have it bad for her?”

That gets a real reaction from the younger boy, his eyes darting to the wall that you share with the kitchen before glaring back at his friend, “Dude!” He whines, his shoulders sagging, “Do you want her to hear you?” Hoseok just cackles, grabbing his dishes and placing them in the sink to start washing them. Jungkook just continues grumbling to himself, his fork clanking against the plate as he stabs his pancakes aggressively.

“Give yourself some credit Kook, she doesn’t hate you like you think she does.” Jungkook found that hard to believe, your morning greeting of accusing him of being homeless due to him always being at your place showed him how you really felt, but last night was the first time he had felt like maybe deep down you thought he was cute enough to kiss.

“Last night,” he starts off, setting his fork down, “she came home at like 4am totally wasted, I don’t even know how she managed to climb the stairs up to the front door. I carried her to bed and she uh, she kissed me.” He whispers the last part, his eyes glancing at the shared wall again, praying you were listening to music and not hearing this conversation.

Hoseok shuts off the faucet, whipping around with wide eyes, “Huh? Like coherently kissed you with tongue down your throat or like drunk peck kissed you?”

“The second one.”

The expression on Hoseoks face doesn’t comfort Jungkook, he’s pouting in sympathy, “I mean, she kisses Iseul with tongue and everything-”

“Okay but-wait what?” Jungkook stops himself from interrupting further, his interested piqued in hearing about you and Hoseok’s girlfriend making out. It was a regular occurrence, if you both got drunk enough the compliments began and before Hoseok knew it you and his girlfriend were swapping spit and then acting like nothing happened as you entered the dance floor.

His friend rolls his eyes at the look Jungkook throws at him, “Yeah, I think Iseul loves her more than me.”

“Okay well tell her to get in fucking line.” Jungkook jokes, “But no, she kissed me last night and considering she doesn’t like me within her bubble it has to mean something right?”

Hoseok pats his hands dry as he approaches the breakfast bar again, Jungkook looks unsure, his teeth nibbling on his lip piercing as he stares at him. The conversation had switched over drastically from Jungkook pretending he wouldn’t lay his body across a puddle of water for you to cross, now he looked like a nervous teenager that didn’t want to get rejected by his crush.

“I don’t know dude, you’re gonna have to say something to find out.”

Hoseok knew more than he would ever tell Jungkook, you had openly confessed to wanting to climb him like a tree only if he wore a muzzle a few months back so Hoseok knew Jungkook had a chance at least. The only issue was he wasn’t sure just sleeping with you would be enough for his friend, the crush he had been harboring was too strong for a one night stand and he wasn’t convinced you’d want the same so Hoseok kept his mouth shut, letting you two figure it out.

He tried his best to make it so you two would be around each other, always inviting Jungkook over or inviting you out with them but Jungkook never did himself any favors, he needed you guys to hang out in a different environment that didn’t require loud music and other girls so when his girlfriend suggests taking a weekend trip to her family’s lake cabin he doesn’t think twice before inviting you to join.

The weather lately had been miserable, the highs skyrocketing into the 100s so you didn’t hesitate to say yes, on the condition that you could bring your best friend with you just in case the rest of Hoseoks friends were just as immature as Jungkook was.

When the day comes you and your friend have to leave a few hours after the rest of the group does, having to wait for Rina to get off her short morning shift before you embark on the 2 hour drive. So walking into the cabin you’re met with some unfamiliar faces staring back at you from their place on the couch. You give a wave, spotting Iseul on a lounger, she smiles widely and hops up, bounding over to you and wrapping you in a hug.

“Yay, you made it!” She pulls back and greets Rina, standing beside you both and gesturing to the full room. “Guys this is Y/N and Rina.” They all wave back as she starts to introduce them in order, Jimin had red hair and a nose ring, Yoongi had grey hair and a rose tattoo on his hand, The last one to be introduced is Taehyung, brown hair and a wide smile, giving you and your friend a wave. Jungkook and Hoseok give you a wave as well, no introductions needed for them.

Due to your late arrival all the rooms have already been decided on, Jimin and Yoongi lucking out with securing the master suite but you and Rina had no complaints, grateful to have even been invited.

Now that introductions were out of the way and everyone was here Hoseok announces that hes gonna start up the grill outside to make some food. Everyone gets up to start assisting but you and Rina head back out to haul your bags in along with the alcohol and groceries you bought.

The weather is humid and gross, your skin tacky with sweat so you’re wearing the least amount of clothing you can. Already in a stringy gray bikini, a loose cut up tank top and the shortest shorts Jungkook has ever seen on you. Your tattoos on full display, the florals that cover your entire left arm, reaching your shoulder, he follows them up and over his eyes glued to the bold lines on your back that peek out when your shirt moves.

When you bend over to set down the box of drinks he stares at your ass, trailing down the soft skin of your thighs that were bare compared to the rest of your body. Tae elbows him harshly, “So thats Y/N I’m assuming?”

Jungkook grunts in response, swallowing when he sees you pull your hair up, exposing your neck and that tattoo he desperately wants to mark up, “You ever gonna make a move?”

“I don’t have the balls.”

Tae hums, “Great, well I do so see ya.” He slaps his arm and Jungkook thinks hes joking until Taehyung actually makes his way over to you, offering to help carry your bag to your room upstairs. The grateful smile you give him makes Jungkooks face twitch, you only ever smiled at him like that when you were wasted

Taehyung wasn’t actually going to hit on you, he wasn’t a cruel friend. He was just going to flirt harmlessly, give Jungkook a reason to fucking make a move. Rina is all giggles as she watches you follow Tae up the stairs, pointing towards the room you had been assigned.

As he walks in front of you, making friendly conversation you take the time to stare at him. It seems all of Jung Hoseoks friends were fucking god sent, Tae’s fluffy brown hair and kind eyes were easy to warm up to, his style more toned down than Jungkooks, only a few minimal tattoos scattered on his arms.

He sets your bag down on the bed and turns to you with his hands on his hips, “Thank you.” You mutter out, walking over to the window and shutting the blinds slightly to stop the sun from beating into the room and warming it up further.

“Yeah no problem, have you ever been here before?” He asks, making himself comfy on your bed.

“No, never. Super glad to finally have a friend who can say they have a lake house though.”

He agrees whole heartedly, the both of you making your way back out of the room and into the dining room to try to see what you could help out with.

It only takes less than a hour for everyone to gather around the table, munching on their hamburgers and hotdogs as you listen to Hoseok, Yoongi and Iseul talking about the summers they used to spend here during high school, all of them having grown up together.

“You two went to high school together also right?” Iseul speaks up when the laughter dies down, her fingers pointing between you and Jungkook. She smirks to herself when she sees the look on Jungkook’s face, swatting Hoseoks hand away from her side as he tries to pinch her for putting the two of you on the spot, he knows what shes up to.

“Oh, yeah we did.” You sigh, shaking your head as you think back to high school and all the cringeworthy things that happened. “Had a lot of mutual friends but uh, we didn’t have lake house summer hangouts like you guys did. The closest we got was backyard house shows during the summer that reeked of B.O.”

Jungkook lets out a laugh, nodding along as he remembers the shows your group would end up at. The group you had was a pretty huge on, all of the kids in your grade that liked the same music tended to bunch together and do things as a herd so even though you technically went to shows together it wasn’t one on one.

“Wait, do you remember that show the summer after high school where I dove off the stage–“

“Your dumbass always did that.”

He waves you off, determined to tell the story he sort of remembered, “I know, but this time all I remember was jumping off and then waking up with everyone huddled around me trying to call an ambulance.”

Your eyes widen as you recall the exact day he was talking about, it was a typical backyard show with too many underaged kids getting drunk off beer. Everything was set up like it normally was, a makeshift stage and amps against the brick wall with a small crowd huddled around it. The only difference was this house had a pool, an empty one, and although everyone had been cautioned to stay away, once people got hammered nothing mattered.

The crowd surrounding the stage was teetering close to the edge of the pool so you and your friend at the time chose to watch from the sidelines, and thats when a very drunk 17 year old Jungkook hopped onto the stage, wobbling onto the top of the drum kit and catapulting himself into the crowd. They had managed to catch him and started crowd surfing him back, right into the empty pool. Jungkook had been tossed into the deep end, head first and you had seen it all happen.

“There was so much fucking blood.” You shiver as you recall the group of you running into the pool to make sure he was alive. He had managed to bust his head open and as you saw him with blood dripping down his head you realized then that you really didn’t dislike him as much as you claimed you did because you really didn’t want him to die.

Jungkook throws his head back and laughs loudly, morbidly recalling how his friends had told him to go to the hospital in fear that he had a concussion or needed stitches and even though he said he was fine he was lowkey scared to sleep that night and not wake up the morning after.

Everyone laughs along, enjoying the way Jungkook turns a traumatic story into casual conversation. When Jimin asks what he did after he gained consciousness Jungkook just smirks as he drinks the last of his beer before shrugging, “I drank some more and got back into the crowd.”

You just cover your face in second hand embarrassment at the memory, a few laughs slipping out because yeah it had been slightly traumatic but also kinda funny.

“Have you changed much since high school?” You lift your head and see Taehyung had addressed his question to you and Jungkook chuckles under his breath, remembering your quiet demeanor.

It wasn’t until college that you came out of your shell, gaining confidence and experimenting with your fashion and hair colors, the tattoos covering your body increasing quickly. But Jungkook could say your personality has stayed the same, sure you were no longer timid, quick to bite back now but the personality he had found himself latching onto had stayed the same. Even when you two distanced yourselves he always thought of you, he liked to think it was fate that had you and him both knowing Hoseok.

“Definitely, for the better though.” Jungkook eyes his friend like a hawk, the small smirk on his face as he stares at you from across the table, making eye contact for a second before looking back at you. Jungkook sees the way you lean on the table, your cheeks tinting when you see the way he stares at you.

“I’d love to see photos, ya know, to compare.” The laugh you let out has Jungkook sulking. Taehyung was charming, all the girls flocking to him and usually Jungkook was the same but he turned into a jackass around you.

Hoseok sees his sulking friend and claps his hands to get everyones attention, “Alright I’m sure we’re all still sober enough to not fucking drown, lets go swim. I’m melting.”

Rina heads to the room to change since she was still in her work uniform so you wait for her on the back deck, resting on the porch rail and watching as they haul over fold out chairs and floaties to the water.

If you thought Hoseoks friends were hot fully clothed seeing them all taking their shirts off left you speechless, you stand with a wine cooler in your hand as one by one they start undressing. The only ones missing were Tae and Jungkook, both of them having been put on clean up duty.

“I wish this was a brazzers video and I was getting railed by all of them.” Your friend sighs as she pops up beside you and you just nod along, the two of you wiggling your eyebrows at each other.

“You coming?” Taehyung speaks up behind you, smiling to himself from having heard your friends statement and you two jump, your friend scattering away and saving herself from further embarrassment, she had her eyes set on Yoongi so thats who she was currently warming up to.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, taking in his shirtless body, his toned chest out in the sun like the golden god he was and then out comes Jungkook, his long black hair pushed off his face, fully shirtless in black swim trunks. As he stands next to Taehyung your mouth waters at the sight of both of them, Taehyung’s shoulders were wider than Jungkooks but the black and grey art work spanned across both of his arms and chest, leading to his back is definitely your type.

He catches you staring and smiles to himself, making a show of stretching his arm out to wrap around Taehyungs shoulders, shaking up his body, “Race you in?”

When he looks at you too you gulp down the last bit of your drink, setting down the bottle and slipping out of your clothes, not giving them a second glance as you scream out “Go!” and take off.

The dirt you run on slightly burns your feet and when you hear Jungkook and Taehyung catching up you scream, urging your legs to pick up the pace.

“Loser has to skinny dip!” Taehyung adds on to the rules, enjoying the annoyed look Jungkook sends his way, he knew what Taehyung was doing so he lurches forward until he’s right behind you.

You scream again when large tattooed arms wrap around you and haul you up and over their shoulder in a flash. You register that it’s Jungkook when you peak up and see Taehyung struggling to keep up, how Jungkook was able to carry you while also beating him had him baffled.

Jungkook would be damned if you had to strip in front of his friend so he feels no remorse, a smile stretching across his face when he hears you laughing, his hands are wrapped around your thighs just below your butt and he’s tempted to smack it but the cold water of the lake splashing onto his legs snaps him out of it.

“Fuck!” You screech as Jungkook enters the lake, the freezing water shocking you and he laughs again, sliding you off his shoulder to stand up on the lake bed.

“I didn’t expect it to be that cold.” He shivers next to you, dunking his head into the water before popping back up, his labret piercing glimmering in the sun.

Taehyung makes a show of splashing his way in, the water spraying everywhere and it has you shielding your face with a laugh, “Fucking cheater, is this your plan to see me naked Jungkookie?”

Jungkook smacks the water, the droplets spraying across Taehyungs face but he embraces it, laying back to float on the water with a smile, “No one said anything about getting naked until you spoke up, just say you wanna show off your monster cock and go.” He jokes, hearing Taehyung explode into laughter, choking slightly on the water as his head slips under from laughing.

You roll your eyes at the topic of dicks, “I don’t have a monster cock, unless you’re into that.” Taehyung teases you, trying to get further under Jungkook’s skin

“I could be.” You play along, it was now Jungkooks turn to roll his eyes, sinking further into the water until only his eyes were visible, could he drown himself here? He’s pretty sure you wouldn’t even notice if he didn’t come back up for air considering your eyes were glued to his friend. Jungkook was going to fucking strangle Hoseok for inviting him.

His eyes drift over to the right, seeing Hoseok, Iseul, Yoongi & Rina taking turns jumping off of it while Jimin floats on a flamingo floatie a few feet away. He starts to paddle his way over, not hearing any protest from you or his friend just reassures him that he made the right choice.

When Taehyung deems Jungkook is far enough he calls you closer, “Wanna know a secret?” That piques your interest, inching towards him with a curious face, “What if I told you I know someone who has a massive heart on for you.”

“Heart on?”

He laughs again, raking his hair off his face and nodding at you, “Yeah heart on, like a boner but for your heart.”

Note to self, yes all of Jung Hoseoks friends were just as immature as Jungkook was.

“I would tell you that I hope the person you say isn’t secretly married with kids.”

He floats onto his back again, his arms lazily paddling him to circle around you, “Oh no, our Jungkookie is definitely single.” He brings one hand up to cover his mouth, pretending to have slipped up.

“So what you’re saying is you don’t wanna fuck me?”

Your response is not one he expects but the way he bursts into laughter makes you smile, you had caught on to Taehyung’s antics, noting how he was friendly when you two were alone and only amped his flirting when Jungkook was present. You weren’t sure why he was using you to irritate Jungkook but if what he said was true it surprised you.

His loud laugh draws everyones attention and he rights himself up as to not choke on water again, “Like a brazzers video was it?” He teases, “He told me about your little smooch a few weeks ago.”

“Im sorry our little what?”

He wipes the water off his face, “Yeah, you came home drunk as fuck and he took you to bed and your predator ass planted one on him, with no consent. Shame on you.”

You splash water onto him, Jungkook sees it from his spot on the pier, a scowl on his face at seeing you acting playful with his friend, blissfully unaware that he was the topic of your discussion.

“Can you please grow a pair and tell her you love her.” Iseul moans out when she sees the look on the youngests face.

“Wait what?” Your friend asks and Jungkook turns around to give Iseul and Hoseok an exasperated look, “Seriously?”

Iseul just shrugs from her spot sat on the wood, not giving a damn about outing his crush in front of your friend and Hoseok just smiles, his foot planting on the center of Iseuls back and giving her a shove until she screams as she gets pushed into the water, beer bottle and all. He gives Jungkook a highfive until Iseul pops back up, her eyes full of rage as she holds up her ruined drink, “Jung Hoseok what the fuck!”

“Sorry babe, you kinda deserved it.”

Rina nudges Jungkook with her knee, her face making it very clear that Jungkook needs to fess up before she very loudly called you over. He sighs and hauls himself up until he’s standing and even though he’s towering over her Rinas face doesn’t soften, “Stop staring at me like that.” He grunts, “I just have a crush on her, its not like I confessed to something despicable.”

She crosses her hands over her chest as she stares at you and Taehyung still talking in the water and she can tell you’re not into him, you were both playful but she knew you very well, your flirting tactics not coming out to play with Taehyung but Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice this. She also knew that you’d secretly bend over for Jungkook if he ever asked but he didn’t have to know that right now, “Well you better say something cause it looks like your buddys making more progress in one day than you have the entire time you’ve known her.”

He groans in annoyance again, flicking water droplets at her face and deciding he was over this conversation, walking back to the cabin, not caring that he was dripping water everywhere.

You see him stalking away looking pissed off and Taehyung smirks, after coming to terms with the fact that you had in fact kissed Jeon Jungkook it only took a few more minutes of talking for you to also start confessing to not exactly being opposed to sleeping with him as well. Taehyung nudges your shoulder, “I swear to god if you don’t follow him I will be offended. No ones telling you to bang him, just talk because he swears you hate him.”

When you turn to glare at him he spits water at you until you’re relenting, “Fine, but if this is some sick prank I’ll shove my foot up your ass.”

“Ooh kinky.” He winks at you, laughing and beginning to paddle away when you turn and start wading out of the water. The sun beats on your back as you step out of the cold water, and you’re tempted to just go back and act like your conversation with Taehyung never happened but you’re curious now.

When you reach the back porch you hose yourself down, getting rid of any of the mud you trudged over before patting yourself dry with the towel you laid over the porch railing.

From the pier Iseul is pulling herself back up, announcing that she was about to go inside but Hoseok grabs her, all of them noticing you following Jungkook, “Fuck no, Y/N and Jungkook are the only ones in the house.”

She lets Hoseok keep his arms wrapped around her and smiles, crediting herself for being the one to push you two together and Hoseok groans, attempting to push her back into the water but she latches onto him, making them both tumble in with a splash.

You shut out their screams when you step into the house and close the sliding door, entering the kitchen and spotting Jungkook stood against the island, one of your wine coolers held against his lips. When he sees you staring at it he pulls it away quickly, “Shit, I’m sorry. I should’ve asked before grabbing one.” The last thing he needed was another oat milk fiasco.

You just shrug as you approach the island, resting your body against the granite across from him, “Nah, help yourself. Whats got your panties in a bunch?”

He sets the bottle down softly as he watches you, your hands clasped together, stretched out in front of you as you bent over the counter innocently. His teeth tug at the bar in the center of his lip, his inky strands covering his eyes but you can see his gaze peeking through, “Did I ever do anything to you for you to dislike me this much?”

You straighten up at his question, a frown tugging at your lips, you didn’t dislike him, you found him immature and he liked to push your buttons on purpose but you knew he was harmless. Obviously Jungkook didn’t know this considering Taehyung had just told you he thinks you hate him. “What, Jungkook I don’t dislike you?”

He scoffs, taking a swig of his drink with his brows raised, not believing you in the slightest, “Then why are you so mean to me when ever I’m around you.”

“Because you’re mean to me! You always say shit to get under my skin.”

Jungkook laughs at that, pushing his hair back and tossing the empty bottle into the paper bag set up on the counter, “Yeah because you’re easy to annoy.”

Your arms stretch out at his statement, “And so are you, you don’t see me moping like a baby. Besides I didn’t do anything to you out there so don’t try to pin your bad attitude on me today.”

He opens the fridge again, pulling out a water bottle instead before turning back around and staring at you, “Really, you didn’t do anything?”

You glare right back at him, walking around to meet him and snatch the water bottle out of his hands, call it even for him taking one of your wine coolers. “Please enlighten me on how I managed to ruin your day by not saying a word to you.”

Between you two running into the lake until he paddled away the only exchange you had was a curse word & Jungkook acknowledging the freezing water, where could you have possibly pissed him off.

He chooses on foregoing grabbing another water, his hands crossing over his chest, the muscles bulging out at the action but you force yourself to look away, “You objectifying my friend and talking about his monster cock isn’t you doing anything?”

You freeze from drinking the water, your cheeks ballooning out as you keep it in your mouth because what the fuck. Objectifying? You swallow the liquid, full on laughing now, theres no way he’s being serious. “You were the one that brought up his dick, are you dense?”

Okay, you had him there but he wasn’t going to admit defeat that easy, “Sure and you kept it going.”

You laugh louder at that, twisting the cap back onto the water bottle and tossing it at his chest lightly, smirking when you see him scramble to catch it, “The amount of times I’ve had to hear unwarranted stories about your dick in or around someone is fine but me joking with Taehyung is crossing a line?”

Jungkook presses his lips together, his mind repeating what everyone has been telling him all day. Tell her you jackass. “Yes because it fucking sucks hearing that shit from you.” He bites his tongue, stopping himself from blurting out the most important part, but his statement is enough to get you to believe what Taehyung had said earlier. Did Jungkook actually have a heart on for you?

“Why, are you jealous?”

“Yes.” He admits almost immediately, his response catching you both off guard, but the smirk on your face only gets bigger. Jungkook is wary of your reaction, not exactly fond of the way you look like you just caught your prey. When you reach out, your fingers gently touching his shoulders his wariness only deepens.

“Why would you be jealous about me wanting to fuck your friend?” Jungkook says nothing, your fingers continuing to trail up and down his shoulders softly and he likes the feeling of you touching him, wanting to lean into your touch but he’s not sure if you’re fucking with him or not. “Who knew all it would take was one kiss for Jeon Jungkook to get possessive.”

He blanches at your sentence, “Wait you remember?”

“Of course I do,” you lie, not wanting to tell him that Taehyung had been the one to remind you. You wanted to see how far you could push him until he admitted to something. The typical Jungkook you were used to was the one who went to bars and clubs and managed to score a handful of girls numbers before taking one home, the countless stories you’ve heard being proof of that. The Jungkook stood in front of you did not live up to the reputation you had seen.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I mean you were wasted so I just didn’t think you’d remember...” he trails off, unconsciously stepping back until hes pressed against the fridge.

“You wanna refresh my memory?” You’re half teasing him, half serious, enjoying seeing Jungkook looking like he’s about to explode.

He doesn’t get a chance to respond, the sound of the sliding door making you take a big step back before looking over. Jimin had his head peeking through the opening, a small grimace on his face as he realizes he interrupted something, “Sorry, we’re gonna go tubing if you guys wanna join.”

Jungkook hopes you say no because he can’t find the balls to speak up but you nod instead, turning to face Jungkook again, “Maybe later then.” Is all you say before turning around and following Jimin back out to the lake.

He watches you leave, bending over the island and groaning into the granite, where had that come from and why was he kinda into the way you spoke to him? Jungkook stands back up, taking a gulp of his water and following after you and Jimin.

Even when you’re all gathered on the boat, Rina being dragged in a giant circle tube beside Yoongi the both of them screaming, he can’t get your conversation out of him mind. His eyes focused in on seeing you laughing hysterically as you record your friend, a smile spreading across his face because your laugh is contagious.

When you hop onto the tube next, dragging Taehyung with you to further egg Jungkook on, Jimin slides over beside Jungkook and sighs, “Sorry about barging in earlier.” Jungkook just shakes his head, telling him not to worry about it, he didn’t mind it. Your words had spurred him on and all he wanted to do now was rip off that lifejacket you wore and take you in front of his friends but he knew no one would appreciate it.

Later in the night everyone gathers inside and does their own thing, a few people playing board games while you retreat into your room, feeling sluggish from the water and sun so you sleep through the dinner everyone eats.

When you finally emerge from the room, your hair damp from your shower you find the living room dimly lit and empty, the clock above the stove letting you know it was 9 at night. There was two plates left out on the counter, wrapped in foil and you knew it was meant for you. As you near it you see the scrap of paper next to it, Iseul’s handwriting standing out.

Left on a hike to go stargazing, text us when its clear to come back.

You frown at the message, what did she mean by that?

Regardless you peel back the foil and smile at the food she had left for you, popping it into the microwave and picking yourself up to hop onto the counter as you wait.

When you slip your phone out and start to scroll through your socials the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs scares you, your eyes flicking up and seeing Jungkook trudging down, a baggy crew neck on him and his face looking flushed from the sun hitting it.

“You didn’t go on the hike?” You ask as he approaches you slowly, his face looks sleepy and you can tell he also took a nap from the way his eyes blink at you lazily.

“Hike?” He rasps out, his hand ruffling up his already messy hair, a small frown on his face from the foggy feeling he still had from just waking up.

“Yeah,” you hum, pulling out your plate and starting to eat it on the counter, “they left on a hike or something. Theres a plate there if you haven’t already eaten.”

He looks at where you’re pointing and he smiles when he sees it, his eyes also spotting the note left and skimming it. His friends were such instigators.

He lingers behind you, torn between eating or doing something to you. You’re hunched over the counter, your legs rocking you against it as you happily much on some of the roasted potatoes. His eyes lingered on your legs, your skin still exposed in a loose pair of cotton shorts, a baggy tshirt hanging off your shoulder and letting him see the tattoo of a bee hovering over a sunflower.

You can feel him stood behind you and you freeze, looking over your shoulder at him with your brows raised, “Why are you standing like that?”

He shakes his head, relaxing the stiff way he stood and leaning against the counter instead, flicking his hair out of his face as you keep staring at him. “Just thinking about what you said earlier.”

You pop a piece of chicken in your mouth as you hum, “What did I say?” pretending to act confused, a smirk curling up on your lip when you see the deadpan look he give you as he pushes off the counter.

The nervous Jungkook from earlier is gone, the shock from you egging him on earlier had passed and it just solidified that he wanted to have you. “About me refreshing your memory of our little rendezvous.”

You laugh at his term, setting your fork down to fully turn to him, “Do you want me to kiss you again?”

He smirks at you, now standing a foot away from you, your back pressed against the counter as you craned your head up to stare at him, “Among other things.”

“Other things?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, his hand reaching out to cup under your chin gently, “I’d like to bend you over this counter and fuck you until you’re crying. If you’re into that.” He smiles at the small gasp you let out, your eyes gleaming with desire at his words. You had thought you had the one up on him earlier but his change was a welcomed one, you wanted to experience the Jungkook you had heard about, rough and cocky.

You rest back onto your elbows as you stare at him, letting his thumb rub under your lip, “Oh really? Are you all talk?”

Jungkook scoffs, dropping his hands to cage you between him and the counter, his head dropping down a bit until your noses nudged together. “No, I always deliver.”

You don’t get a chance to respond, his head tilting slightly until your lips are together, the cold bar of his piercing pressing against you. Jungkook feels you relax into the kiss, glad that you weren’t pushing him away like he always swore you would. When he tests the water, gently licking his way into your mouth you groan, your hands coming up to clutch onto his sweater to tug him closer until his leg is between yours.

Kissing Jungkook felt natural, maybe it was the pent of sexual frustration you two had apparently had with one another but you just wanted to get to it. You drop one hand to trail down his thigh, palming his growing erection through his sweats.

He groans, pulling back from the kiss to rest his forehead against your, his soft breaths hitting your face as you continue to stroke him. “Feel that?” He hums softly, “Just wanna fuck you.”

You laugh gently, kissing his neck and feeling him roll his hips into your grasp, “How are you supposed to make me cry when you’re this needy?” Your teeth nip his skin, his hips stuttering when you do.

Jungkook just chuckles, the sound continuing when he trails his own hand down until hes dipping into waistband of your shorts, his fingers coming into contact with the wet spot on your underwear, “Keep it up.” He warns, “I’ll remember that in a bit.”

Your hands tighten their hold on him when he pushes your underwear aside to touch you directly, his fingers teasing your skin softly until he’s rolling your clit in a tantalizing manner. When you drop your head back and glare at him he just smiles, “Who’s needy now?”

“Still not crying.” You bite back.

Jungkook looks at you with his brows raised, new set determination on his face as he nods, stepping back from you and hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and underwear, tugging them down your legs in a flash.

The cool air inside hits your wet folds and you gasp, kicking your discarded clothing aside on the floor and letting him drop to his knees in front of you. His long hair falls in front of his eyes, his hands grasping the top of your thighs to slide your legs apart with a grin.

He can see you wanting to speak up so he beats you to the punch, his nose nudging into your clit as he teasingly dips his tongue in between your folds to lick a broad stripe up. You let out a shuddered laugh, your hands reaching down to tangle in his head when he spreads you open with his fingers and starts to eat you out like a man starved.

Your eyes shut, your head falling back at a particular hard suck he gives your clit, his tongue going back to circle around your entrance to lap up your wetness. He groans at the taste of you, your hands tugging at his hair when he falls into a rhythm that has you quivering.

He slips two fingers into you, the feeling of your walls clamping down on him making him moan in anticipation of how you would feel around his cock.

Just like Jungkook is in every aspect of his life, he’s shameless in the way he pleasures you, the sounds of him slurping against you in combination with his fingers thrusting into you has you hurdling towards the edge faster than you’d like to admit.

You rest your weight on your elbow behind you, feeling your legs start to tremble and Jungkook notices, his arm wrapping around your thigh to help stabilize you. He can’t even get himself to gloat at having you fall apart this quickly, instead he enjoys you rolling your hips into his face, tugging his hair hard, your inner walls spasming as you reach your climax.

“Oh fuck.” You moan out, squeezing your eyes shut as your whole body is lit up, Jungkooks tongue continuing to flick your clit as you cum, his fingers slowing down slightly as you come down.

He can hear you breathing harshly, your fingers gently raking through his hair while he gives your pussy one last kiss before hes standing back up. His mouth and chin are covered in your arousal, his hand tugs up his shirt to wipe at his face, peeling it off his body and tossing it carelessly onto the floor.

“You’re not crying but its a start.” He mumbles out, his eyes trailing over your face as you stare at him fucked out. His talk was true, the small tidbits you’ve heard of him being able to make girls cum in record time hadn’t been a lie to boost his ego.

You look between you both, seeing his cock tenting in his sweats and you smile as you reach your hand into them, wrapping around his heavy length. He sees how your eyes widen at his size, you can tell he’s big and you haven’t even properly seen it yet.

When you tug them off you marvel at his size, big dicks would forever be your weakness and of course he’d have one. “I really wanna suck your dick,” you start, a small smile creeping up on your face as you give his cock a small pump, “but I’m not trying to barf my dinner up on the floor. Can’t have two girls puking over your dick in your lifetime right?” You knew his dick would make you choke and if you hadn’t just eaten you wouldn’t care, but barfing was definitely not a kink of yours.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, a laugh escaping his lips, “You’re the worst.” He shuts his eyes as you both start to chuckle. Jungkook doesn’t care, he was trying to make you cry, he didn’t need to have his dick sucked to do that.

“Its not just my height thats Titan size huh.” He jokes, laughing harder when you release his dick and groan, your faux annoyance being shown when you let him slide your shirt off of you, his hands coming up to cup your exposed breasts.

“No, I am not calling your dick Titan sized.”

“Oh no?” He asks, stepping closer until his length is pressed between your folds, a slow thrust starting that has you groaning, “This Titan dick can make you feel real good though.” He can barely utter out the sentence until he’s laughing again, burying his head into your neck at how stupid he sounded.

“You’re insufferable, I swear if you have an attack on titan fantasy I am walking away.” He lets out a playful whine, his mouth latching onto that tattoo he always wanted to kiss, his tongue softly licking at the skin as he sucks it, pulling back and humming when he sees the purple splotch in between the petals of the peony.

“I’m not that big of a weeb, can still make you feel good tho.” He mutters giving your lips another kiss, feeling you smile against him, your hands pushing him back by the chest.

You turn around, bending over the counter and shaking your hips slightly, “Show me.”

He bites his lip, his eyes staring at the slick coating your pussy, trailing down your thighs and he feels his dick twitch, not needing to be told twice. Jungkook presses his length against you, rutting between your folds, the both of you sighing as he coats his dick in your wetness.

“Remember, I wanna see you crying.” Is all he says before he’s pushing into you, the tip of him slipping in and he marvels at the way you spread around his girth as he thrusts further into you, a small moan leaving you when he bottoms out.

You wanna tell him that you won’t be crying tonight but the way he fills you up has you seeing stars, his dick nudging all the right spots inside of you so all you can do is tighten your walls around him and gasp for him to move.

Jungkook grasps your hips, his thumb tracing the outline of your back tattoo as he pulls back and starts a slow pace, determined to find the rhythm that has you falling apart.

When your hands grip the counter in front of you, helplessly trying to find purchase, your fingers knock into your dinner plate and swipe it into the sink beside you but you don’t register the noise and Jungkook grins when he hears the loud moan coming from you when he dick hits the back wall of your cervix.

You’re still sensitive from your last orgasm, so the feel of his thick cock stretching you open has you keening, your hips rutting back to meet his thrusts that have grown in speed, “Who’s needy now huh?” He grunts out, loving the sound of your skin slapping together, “Trying to fuck yourself on my cock, maybe you should do all the work then.”

When his hips still you whimper, twisting your head around to see him giving you an evil smirk, “Go on.” He urges, guiding your hips with his hands to get your started.

A heavy sigh fills the air as your hands press firmly onto the counter to ground yourself as you start to rock back onto him, a slow start until your need to cum again takes over and you speed up your movements.

“Good girl.” He praises, his hand reaching forward to push your hair over your shoulder, his hand trailing down your spine until it reaches your ass, his hand palming your flesh as he groans when he locks into the view of his dick, seeing the way you’re creaming on it.

The sweetest moans reach his ears, he can feel the way your velvety walls tighten around him further, “Fuck Jungkook.” You moan out, you can feel the sweat building up on your skin from exertion and he takes sympathy on you, knowing you want to cum again.

He leans over a presses a kiss against your shoulder before he takes over again, resuming the brutal pace he was pounding you with earlier and you sigh in relief, fully slumping forward and letting him have his way with you.

“You feel so good Jungkookie.” You breathe out and he smiles as he lets his hand slip around to your front, his fingers finding your clit again and the contact has you moaning again. His rough hands helping you reach your peek again, “Oh my god, don’t stop.”

He doesn’t plan on it, loving the way you’re clamping down on him and mumbling nonsense into the cool granite, “Don’t worry, I got you.”

With a few more thrusts you’re falling apart, pressing your forehead against the counter and moaning his name out louder than you thought was possible. Your friends made a good call vacating the house because there was no way you’d be able to keep quiet.

“Thats it.” He coos, pulling his hand away from your clit without slowing down his pace. Your legs felt like jello, glad you had a place to rest on while he continued to jackhammer into you. The first signs of overstimulation started to prick into you, small whines leaving your lips and Jungkook takes notice.

He pulls out of you slowly, his hands grasping your hips to turn you around. Your body is pliable in his hands, letting him move you and haul you up onto the counter, your feet dangling off the edge and a hazy smile on your face.

He presses another kiss against you, letting your tongues tangle together as he grabs your arms and wraps them around his neck, coming back down to hook under your thighs as he slides back into you.

The way you groan into his mouth makes his cock throb, your soaking entrance letting him glide right into you, “Hurts.” You whine out softly when he starts to thrust, not sure if you’d be able to handle another orgasm but Jungkook shushes you softly with another kiss.

“You can do one more for me right baby?” He asks, sucking on your lower lip as he rocks into you slowly. His eyes are half lidded and you can feel how hard he is in you, your body still trembling slightly from your last orgasm but you nod anyways, letting him kiss his way down your face until he reaches your neck again, soft praises leaving his lips.

Your fingers tangle into his hair again as you slump against him, letting him hold you up. You trail along his tattoos, tracing the giant death moth spanned across his collarbone, the tip of the wing reaching the bottom of his neck.

He’s grunting softly against you, getting lost in the feeling of you, the added touches and kisses you plant on his skin igniting the fire inside him. His arms scoop you closer, his hands spreading against your lower back as he speeds up his thrusts, your legs still wrapped around his arms.

The way his dick curves inside you has you moaning again, the pleasure creeping back up and your head falls back as you feel the pressure building again. You’re not sure you could handle coming again but Jungkook seems determined to get you there, rolling into you, the feeling of his pelvis rubbing your clit is too much. Your hands cling onto his back, your fingers digging into the flames and dragon that occupied the space.

“Fuck I can feel you squeezing me.” He gasps out, “You can cum again sweetheart its okay.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, hearing him grunting into your ear, his voice dropping into a gravel as he nears his edge as well. You’re clinging onto him for your life, gasping loudly when you reach your third orgasm of the night, the force of it making your mind go blank.

You don’t tune into to the small shriek of his name, the growl he lets out when you tighten around him tighter than before, his hips rearing into yours in a sloppier way until he’s cumming, hips surging forward to bury himself deeper into you as his cock twitches.

You come back when he moans your name out, the feeling of his cum filling you up making you mewl against him. He thrusts shallowly a few more times before pulling out with a sigh, letting your legs fall limp over the edge.

His cum drips out of you, slipping through your folds and down your ass until it pools onto the counter beneath you and he smirks, his eyes coming up to look at you and his expression gets bigger when he sees the tear streaks on your cheeks. His hand cups them, his thumb sliding across your face and wiping them with a laugh, “I told you I’d make you cry.”

You don’t have it in you to be the usual brat you are with him, not after cumming this hard three times in a row so you just pout at him and lean forward to kiss him again, this time being more gentle and slow paced than the last.

“How was that?” He mumbles against your lips, letting you pull him in to you, wrapping your arms around his tiny waist as you nuzzle into his chest.

Jungkook feels you laughing against his skin, “How was that?” You mock as you give him a squeeze, “Let’s just say I’ll cry over your Titan cock any day.”

The both of you burst into laughter, Jungkook pressing a kiss onto the top of your head as you two just stay there. Jungkook and you had officially crossed the line from being bratty friends to sleeping with each other. Neither of you knew what it meant but it seemed like a conversation for tomorrow morning, right now you were content with just holding him.

So when your phone vibrates beside you you’re reluctant to pull away, so Jungkook compromises by reaching it for you and handing it over.

You see its a message from Iseul and you unlock it, your face heating up as you groan and show the message to Jungkook, his face turning just as red as he sees what she sent.

Iseul 10:15pm : Thank you for the show, I hope you two realize we have security cameras in the kitchen and living room you horn dogs.

The two of you peek over at the corner of the room giving a wave and smiling shyly at the blinking security camera staring back at you. Maybe she could send you the footage for keepsake.

#btsghostie #maknaesmutsociety #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts drabble #jeongguk smut #new

4K notes · View notes

hwangsies · 4 years

Text

LIMERENCE

(n) the state of becoming infatuated with another person

pairing: hyunjin x female reader

summary: you haven’t spoken a word to hyunjin since he ghosted you after a fun new years eve together, so what’s the worst that could happen when fate (or chaeryong,...well, same thing) pairs you up for a road trip across the country?

warnings: e2l (ish), university student!au, non idol!au ,a lot of swearing. alcohol consumption,long flashback, mentions of infidelity, hyunjin is a giggly sweetheart, smut as in: dom!hyunjin, unprotected sex (wrap it up luvs),fingering, oral (f recieving), slight choking, praise kink, hand & strenght kink (manhandleing oopsie), slight overstimulation, hyunjin is really enthusiastic about consent (as you should be, periodt), reader is nervous and scared of hyunjins big pickle (ew i hate myself), motel sex (but it’s not trashy i promise!)

8.6 k words ,meaning grab a snack and a drink,

and enjoy!<3

---

"alright everyone" your professor rubs his hands together "that was it for today... i hope you all have a great break and i'm very exited to see all of you again next semester. hopefully in person again" he chuckles.

You and your classmates exchange goodbyes with him before one after the other exits the zoom call.

"fuck" you sigh after closing your laptop and lean back on your bed.

"you did it girl" your dormmate chaeryong claps, at which you giggle before shifting your eyes to her on the other side of the room.

She's sitting on her bed, folding her clothes before putting it in her suitcase thats placed in front of her.

"finally" you sit up and watch her roll up a pair of socks.

"my last class was yesterday and mrs kim teared up" she giggles "it was kinda cute not gonna lie"

"oh god" you snicker.

"hey did you find someone to take to yongin?" you ask, remebering chearyong talking about wanting to find someone to share gas expenses with in exchange for a ride to her hometown.

"oh yea, i did" she turn to you "i think you know him, seo changbin?"

You furrow your brows in thought, you feel like you've heard of the name.

"he's a music major, one year above us, hes also from yongin" she continues folding a pair of jeans "funny you'd ask actually cause he told me one of his friends was looking for a ride to seoul, isn't that where you're going?"

"Yea i was thinking about finding someone honestly because gas is really fucking expensive if you aint rich" you say, placing your laptop onto your nightstand.

"Mm you aint gotta tell me girl" chaeryong mumbles, folding a sweatshirt.

"so who's that friend?" you ask, stretching out on your bed.

"he's in his grade, hyunjin"

Your neck almost cracks from how fats you whip your head “hwang hyunjin?”

"Oh yea" she points at you "you know him?"

"unfortunately" you huff.

"o-oh, what"s the tea?" your roommate wiggles her brows at which you shake your head.

"nothing much really" you sigh, leaning back again "he's just like the most arrogant and stuck up fuckboy ever"

"wow, well thats not nothing" chaeryong laughs "any reason as to why you think that?"

"you could probably ask any girl on campus and she'll tell you the same" you scoff.

"really girl?" chaeryong squints an eye at you playfully "cause i've only heard of him being hot but never of him being a hoe. And you know i'm the first to know the hot gossip" she winks.

Laughing defeatedly, running your hand through your hair.

"it's just- we hit it off at the campus' new years eve party, like really hit it off- at least thats what i thought"

"oooh spill it spill it" chaeryong leaps over to your bed to sit at the end of it.

"well there's really not much to spill, i gave him my number and he was talking all that smack about taking me out and stuff aaand to make a long story short i never heard from him again"

"well" chaeryong speaks slowly, biting her lip guiltily "i dont think you'll be very happy about me giving changbin your number for him, then?"

"you did what???" your eyes almost pop out of your head.

"sooorryy" she jumps up from your bed, clutching her hands apologetically "i didnt know"

"aaaaarghh" you whine, burying your face in your pillow.

"maybe he won't even text you though" chaeryong tries to console you, but the damage is already done...

unknown number - hey i got this number from changbin, i heard you're driving up to seoul, i'd love to tag along if you're looking for someone to share expenses with -recieved at 9:12 am

You huff looking at the message on your phone.

After chaeryong had left last night you really convinced yourself that he couldn't possibly dare to reach out to you.

But here you are reading his message after just waking up, and your day is already ruined.

you - who is this? - sent at 9:56 am

You know who it is, but you're not going to give him the satisfaction of thinking that you do.

Scoffing when he answers almost immediately.

unknown number - this is hyunjin, did i reach the right person? - recieved at 9:57 am

You have two choices at this point.

1. be petty and bitter about a boy who probably doesn't even remember you.

Or 2. move on and help someone who is also just trying to get home and also maybe get some closure.

So you curse your mother for rasing you so well and suck it up.

you - yea sure, i planned on leaving tomorrow at around 6 pm - sent at 10:02 am

Damn you and your common human decency.

he sus - oh okay great :) i only have one suitcase and a backpack btw so i wont take up alot of space or anything - recieved at 10:05 am

he sus - also i feel weird bc i dont know ur name or anything changbin literally just sent me the number and nothing else lol, also 6 sounds good should we meet at the main building then? -sent at 10:06 am

You're quite honestly not shocked that he seems nice over text because he was the same when you met on new years eve.

you - sure lets meet at the main building, my car is white and my name is y/n - sent at 10:09 am

Cringing as you press the send button because you are 99% certain he won't answer anymore; not that you'd care, obviously.

he sus - alright y/n see you tomorrow at 6 then :) - recieved at 10:14 am

You raise your brows when your phone lights up with his message, does he really not remember you?

Was he that drunk?

Well, it doesnt matter because you don't want to pay for all this gas alone and he seems to be the next best option to fix that.

So you shrug it off and get out off bed to run some last errands and start packing.

Your heart is beating unreasonably fast when you take a turn towards the main building at 5:55 pm the next day.

Calm down y/n it’ll just be 5 hours and who says you have to talk to him?

However you do know deep in your heart that you only wanted to arrive just a little early so you could complain about him being late.

That plan got cut short because your eyes fall on him as you pull up to the main building.

He’s- oh my god he’s blonde. You stop your car and he looks up at you.

“it is you!” hyunjin smiles at you when you step out of the car.

“who else would it be?” you ask, a little irritated at his reaction.

His face drops a bit when he sees you clearly annoyed by him, but the doesn’t blame you; he’d be mad too.

You open your trunk for him to put his weirdly small suitcase into, looking him up and down as he lifts it inside.

He’s wearing dark baggy pants and a windbreaker jacket, the top part of his chin-length blonde hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail.

He seemed to have bulked up as well, shoulders looking broader than what you remember.

The hair is different than the jet black hair that you remember on him, but it suits him very well; to be honest he would look good in any hair colour, not that you’d care though.

The first thirty minutes of the ride go by agonizingly slow and in complete silence.

When you drive onto the freeway you can’t take it anymore and mumble something among the lines of ‘wanna listen to some music?’.

You don’t wait for an answer, pressing the radio button right as you finish your sentence.

“uh, actually” hyunjin starts, his hand lifting to turn the radio back off, your eyes snap towards him, is he serious? Turning off your radio in your car?

“I wanted to address this situation” he says rather quietly.

You scoff “what? You realized that this is awkward just now?”

“no- I mean- yes I understand why you would think that but I just really want a chance to explain myself” he stutters.

“explain yourself” you repeat after him before mumbling “sure because there’s so much to explain”

“listen, I know you think I’m an asshole who just ghosted you b-“

“listen, I can handle rejection, you could’ve just said that you weren’t looking for something serious and I would’ve accepted that. The thing I’m mad about though is you literally making false promises and shit”

Hyunjin blinks at you “can I please just explain to you what happened?”

You let out a long huff “sure” you wave your hand “go ahead”

“when you and your friends left at around 4, you wrote your number on my arm with your eyeliner, correct?” he asks.

Glancing over at him, you nod.

“after you where gone, I was already pretty drunk but then my friends decided to drag me with them to a different party that was still going” you see him fiddling with his hands in your peripheral “well I got super fucking shitfaced at that party and ended up puking on this one guys shoes”

You raise your eyebrows and hold back a laugh, which he notices.

“its okay you can laugh” he chuckles as well.

“anyways that guy was not very happy about it and busted my lip before kicking me and my friends out, so then back in the dorm my roommate sat me in the shower because I was full of alcohol, blood and puke”

“ew” you chime in.

“and when I woke up the next morning your number was gone” hyunjin looks over at you “we don’t have any mutual friends, I didn’t know what your major is so I couldn’t even asks for you in the administrating office, and then the covid lockdown happened and here we are”

“you called the administrating office?” you look over at him, he nods a little smile on his stupid pretty lips.

“yep, so, sorry to tell you but your eyeliner is not waterproof” he jokes at which you playfully knit your brows at him.

“believe me, I wanted to text you. I really wanted to take you out; and when you sent me your name yesterday I didn’t know if this was a lucky coincidence or if you’re a different y/n, that’s why I didn’t say anything” he explains.

You take a deep breath as you realize you have to apologize for going off on him just now, you believe him but you hate apologizing.

“well, I feel like an ass for going off on you like that after hearing all this” you chuckle “I’m sorry” you eye him shortly before looking back on the road.

“it’s okay, you don’t have to apologize I get how it looked, very much sus” he laughs with you.

Coming back to your car after you took a bathroom break on a highway rest-stop, you see hyunjin sitting in the drivers seat.

“what do you think you’re doing?” you smile as you sit down on the passenger seat.

“I thought maybe you’d like to sleep since its dark already and you’ve been driving for almost 3 hours” he suggests while putting on his seatbelt.

“well, I wont say no to that” you shrug and put your seatbelt on as well.

“so when did you go blonde?” you ask curiously.

“uh- around end of june” hyunjin chuckles “it was a dare if I’m being honest but I ended up liking it and got it redone”

“oh okay” you check out his profile once more and follow his hair with your eyes “I like it”

“yea?”

“yea, which is weird cause I’m usually not into blondes at all” you wonder.

“hm” he grins “must be me then” he says before winking at you.

“pfff, in your dreams” you rebuttal playfully, at which he laughs and mumbles a ‘true’.

You don’t react to it because you think your ears are playing tricks on you.

“hey I have a question too” hyunjin says.

“what’s up” you lean your arm against the window as you look over at him.

His face is slightly lit by the lights of the other cars, no seriously, how can a side profile be so perfect?

“why did you even agree to take me with you if you thought I ghosted you?” he grins.

You laugh “well, I’m a nice person and I know not a lot of people there are from seoul and my mom raised me right, okay?”

“okay okay” he giggles, the way his eyes crinkle when he does makes you smile everytime.

“or…did you have such a good time with me on new years that you just had to jump on this opportunity?” he quips, carefully stealing a peek at you.

“sure, why do you think I was so upset when you didn’t text” you feign sadness.

The both of you laugh before falling into comfortable silence.

When looking outside your window, you think back to said new years eve.

-(flashback)

“oh my god” you said, stepping into the big hall that usually is the universities gym. But whoever planned this outdid themselves.

A dj was placed on one of the tribunes and a whole buffet of drinks and punches on the other, as well as a big disco ball hanging from the ceiling, making the room shimmery and shiny.

You could see people coming out of the doors that connected into the universities hall on one side and into the locker rooms on the others, as if it wasn’t already packed.

“this is fucking insane” lia, your roommate from last semester, squeaked while grabbing your arm and jumping a little, her voice overpowering the blasting music..

“I wanna get fucking hammered tonight” you turned to her.

“oh babe don’t worry, we didn’t come here to drink soda” she laughed before spotting some of your other friends.

About five minutes before midnight you and some more girls gathered at the buffet of drinks and started doing shots.

You all had decided that instead of kissing someone at 12 o’clock you’d ring in 2020 with a shot, because alcohol can’t cheat on you.

You were laughing at something when some people started the countdown.

10!

“HAPPY NEW YEAR”

Every one shouted and celebrated in union as you downed your shot.

“happy new year babe” lia hugged you after downing hers.

“happy new year!” you shouted into her ear, full of relief that this stressful year was over.

“lets do another one” she grinned widely after your whole friend group had shared their wishes with each other.

A girl you didn’t know very well handed you another shot, just as you emptied your glass you heard a guy yell something before stumbling into your back.

“jesus” you stumbled forward a bit before turning around, ready to throw someone a dirty look.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” in front of you suddenly stood a tall dark haired young man with almost too perfect facial features, frowning a little out of concern.

“nothing happened” you smiled, taking a step towards him so he’d hear you better.

“I’m glad” he replied, a grin slowly stretched across his handsome face

“I’m y/n” you giggled as you held out your hand.

His eyes crinkled with his smile as he took your hand in his “I’m hyunjin” he said before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

“okay guys let her have her fun lets go over there” you hear lia usher your friends away from behind you.

“happy new year y/n” he said before instinctively pulling you a little closer to him when a group of people passed behind you.

“happy new year hyunjin” you replied, a slow blush creeping on your face from how intensely he was taking in your appearance.

“well yea happy fucking new years to me for running into you” he joked before taking a sip, your brain wasn’t able to function anymore so you just giggled and nervously pushed your hair behind your ear.

It had been way too long since you’d talked to a guy, especially someone as attractive as him

“you’re fucking stunning” hyunjin complimented you and lifted your hand with his to make you spin for him, to which you complied because you took a long time getting ready and always appreciate being appreciated.

“thank you” you were crimson red by now but hoped he wouldn’t see because of the dimmed lights.

“how come I’ve never seen you around? I would’ve remembered you” he tilted his head.

“oh this was my first year here and I live on the other side of campus so…” you nodded slowly “but yea I would’ve remembered you too”

He grinned before downing his drink and putting on the table next to the both of you.

“wanna dance?”

That’s how you found yourself on the dance floor with hyunjin pressed against your back.

Slowly but surely the alcohol made you braver; and it didn’t take long for the dj to play perfect songs to grind yourself against his toned body to.

His reaction was instant, hands gripping even harder at your waist and his own movements matching your own.

You looked back at him just to have the air knocked out of your lungs, a barely there sheen of sweat was covering his forehead; his pupils were dilated and his lips were slightly parted before his tongue swiftly swept over his lower lip.

He looked like sex on legs and moved like it too.

His plump lips formed into a grin when he noticed you staring, you didn’t know if it was the alcohol running through your system but you so desperately wanted to kiss him.

“can’t stop looking at you either, pretty” he lowered his head to mumble against your cheek before pressing a kiss there.

“you’re so goddamn sexy” you blurted out as you turned around to face him, running one of your hands through his dark hair before positioning them on his firm chest.

He threw back his head as his chest vibrated with laughter.

“don’t laugh at me” you laughed as you locked eyes again.

“you’re cute when you’re drunk” hyunjin brought one hand to your face to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“you dont even know me sober” you giggle “also i’m not drunk!” you protested playfully, his hands found your waist in the meantime to pull you flush to his body; at which you gasped almost inaudibly.

“oh really?” he looked down at you, clearly amused “didn’t you drink like 5 shots half an hour ago?”

“well well well, I didn’t know I had an audience” you countered, looping your arms around his neck.

Hyunjin prodded at the inside of his cheek with his tongue before looking away for a swift second, slightly embarrassed because he just exposed himself.

You felt yourself gush a little when he licked his lips again after bringing his gaze back to you.

“so you almost knocked me over on purpose?” you grinned even bigger when he shook his head laughingly.

“listen” he chuckled, leaning down unnecessarily close because you could hear him perfectly fine but you weren’t going to complain.

“I actually didn’t run into you on purpose, that was my friends doing after he saw me notice you” he said.

You mouthed an ‘ahh’ while nodding, feigning disbelief.

“I’m serious” hyunjin laughed “I still have to thank him later; I would’ve probably chickened out”

He got quieter at the end of his sentence, his eyes jumping to your lips when you wet your lower lip with your tongue quickly.

“i-m glad he pushed you then” you replied, trying to hide the fact that your heart was pumping your blood in record time.

“yea” he inched his face closer to yours as you tilted your chin up to meet him in the middle “me too”

His eyes switched from your lips to your eyes one more time before closing the gap between the both of you.

His lips were firm but soft at the same time in the way they moulded against yours, you swore you could hear lia squealing from somewhere but maybe you were just hearing things.

But when his tongue touched yours in the most tentative way you lost contact to what was going on around you, slinging your arms tighter around his neck and deepening the kiss.

A tiny groan escaped hyunjins throat when you carded your fingers through his hair to tug on it and release some of the adrenalin that rushed through you.

He was slow and explorative and let you take control from time to time before sucking on your lower lip and making you loose it.

You didn’t know how many songs had passed; to be honest you didn’t even remember what song was playing when you started kissing.

All you knew in that moment was hyunjins lightly flushed cheeks, swollen lips and dark glistening eyes.

“let’s go somewhere else?” he questioned in a whisper when you bit your lip, nodding at his question.

He grabbed your hand in his before manoeuvring the both of you through the dancing and celebrating crowd.

Before you knew it, hyunjin pulled you into the entrance hall of the university where multiple people had the same idea as you.

Couples scattered across the big room, some just talking, most of them however making out heavily.

“come on” he softly tugged at your hand, smiling when your gaze falls on him.

He lead you up the big flight of stairs onto a floor of the building you’ve never been to, stopping in front of a random room before pulling a small set of keys out of his back pocket.

After unlocking the door, he opened it to let you step inside.

It was a dance studio, the wall right across from you was just one huge mirror through which you could see the big couch in the back of the room and the water dispensers next to it.

“why do you have the keys for this room?” you asked, giggling.

Hyunjin grinned as he closed the door “I’m a dance major, we all have keys for the practice rooms”

“that’s so cool” you beamed “I wish I could dance” you looked around the room, walking towards the mirrored wall a little bit.

“you were moving just fine earlier” hyunjin came up behind you, nimble hands finding your waist as he looked you up and down through the mirror intensely, now that you were under the bright lights of the room.

You couldn’t help but to smile a little at that, the tight little glitter dress that you had chosen really did accentuate your curves in the best way possible, paired with the cute black heels which made your legs look way longer than they actually are.

“but that was like club sexy dancing, you know?” you elaborated.

“hm” he hummed amusedly “whats wrong with sexy club dancing?” you turned around to him.

He didn’t look to shabby himself, all in black, a chic button up with some jeans and a belt; accessorized with rings on his pretty fingers, a dainty silver necklace and some small earrings.

Some might say he was underdressed, but the way he carried himself with such confidence, and that face of his must for sure be a panty dropper, you thought.

“nothing but… I don’t know, teach me something” you pleaded.

“what do you want me to teach you?” he laughed.

“I don’t know a pirouette or something” you suggested, laughing as well.

“okay” he grinned “this is like the base stance” he positioned himself correctly before looking at you to see if you were following his instructions.

“mhm” you hummed, replicating what he was doing.

“and then you get momentum with one leg to be able to swing yourself around, like this” hyunjin explained before executing a perfect pirouette and ending it back in the base stance.

“that was fast” you chuckled.

“your turn” he grins before moving behind you “try to keep your eyes on yourself in the mirror otherwise you’ll loose balance”

“okay” you said unsurely.

“I’ll catch you if you fall” he winked at you, at which you scoff playfully before carefully swinging yourself into a pirouette.

You landed on wobbly legs but before you could tip over hyunjin stabilized you with a firm grip on your hips.

“you’re a natural” he grinned at you through the mirror.

“well thank you” you playfully feigned cockiness before he spun you around himself.

A few seconds pass of the both of you taking in each others features in silence, the only thing you could hear was the faint music of the party downstairs, before hyunjin spoke up.

“can I kiss you?”

You fell into giggles again as you let your forehead rest against his collarbone before looking up again “we’ve kissed before”

“yea but that was like a moment and I don’t want to catch you off guard or anything” he mumbles cutely.

“mm” you nod “ you can kiss me”

And with a smile, he does.

You weren’t surprised when his first gentle ministrations turned into more desperate ones rather quickly because you could feel the warmth spread in your lower regions as well.

He walked the both of you over to the couch, only parting from your lips when he sat down on the black leather material of the couch.

“come here, pretty girl” he took your hand to help you straddle him, your dress riding up but you couldn’t care less if he saw your safety shorts, and he didn’t seem to care either by the way he feverishly connected your lips again.

His hands travelled down to squeeze at your waist before smoothing over your ass and grabbing a handful of each cheek, you moaned into the kiss when you realized how big his hands were.

Your own hands were squeezing at his shoulders before one moved into his soft hair while the other softly rested on his cheek.

The kiss was messy and desperate, teeth clinking together and tongues licking at each other.

The things that riled you up the most however were his groans and praises.

“you’re so fucking sexy” he groaned before moving down to kiss at your jaw and down your neck.

A needy whimper escaped from your throat when he started suckling the sensitive skin at the base of your throat.

“fuck-hyunjin” you moaned when his teeth grazed over your clavicle.

Your hands fumbled before landing on his belt, at which he pulled away from your skin, gently taking your hands off of his belt.

“I’d love to take you out first, actually” his pretty kiss swollen lips twitched up into a shy smile as he pants.

“oh” you were taken aback, you were almost certain that this was something regular for him “I thought-“

“I mean if you just want to fuck we can fuck of course” he chuckled “but- I actually think you’re really cute and fun and I’d love to get to know you better”

Your mouth stood a little agape “uh- I mean-I” you stuttered, your brain not functioning properly because of the alcohol running through your veins but also him!

“its okay if you just want, you know-“

“no!” you blurted out all over sudden, making him flinch a little “sorry, uhm- its just been a while since I had a date” you smile apologetically.

His expression visibly brightens “that’s okay” he giggled “so is that a yes?”

You grinned, leaning in to just barely brush your lips with his, his head twitching upwards in an attempt to connect them fully.

“yes” you whispered, at which he smiled brightly before pulling your in for a kiss by your neck.

-(flashback end)

“y/n”

“hey, y/n” you grumble when you feel someone gently rocking your shulder.

“mmm-what?” you peek your eyes open just to see hyunjin smile at you.

“good morning sunshine” he teases as you sit up in your seat when you realize you aren’t driving anymore.

“just kidding its not morning” he says as you look around your car, realizing your on a parking lot.

“where the fuck are we?” you whip your head towards him “did you bring me here to kill me? kidnap me?”

“wha?- no” he laughs “no, I’m sorry. Right after you fell asleep there was this huge traffic jam because of an accident and we stood there for almost 3 hours so I drove off and found this” he points out the rear window, where you see a small motel building.

You look back at him before checking the time on your phone, seeing it was indeed almost midnight.

“fuck” you swear to yourself.

“I didn’t know if you wanted to keep driving because I was getting tired so I thought maybe-“ hyunjin starts rambling guiltily, not wanting you to thing that this was an attempt to get in your pants.

“hey” you put your hand on his shoulder after taking off your seatbelt “this is good, you made the right decision I think we both could use some sleep” you say.

You each take your suitcases and walk inside, it’s an old building but it looks pretty clean for a motel off of the highway.

“good evening you two” an old lady sits behind the, probably just as old, reception.

“good evening, could we get 2 single rooms, please” hyunjin speaks up politely.

“I’m afraid we only have 2 double bed rooms available, if you’d like to take them, they will however be more expensive than the rooms for one” she explains politely.

“its okay, we’ll take one of those, please” you decide, hyunjins head snapping towards you.

“is that okay?” you ask him.

“yea- sure” he nods.

“alright, room 301 it is” she hands you the key before stating that you’ll have to checkout before 12 pm and what the room costs.

“do you accept card?” hyunjin asks at which the friendly old lady nods before taking his card and swiping it through her little machine.

“I’ll venmo you half of what you paid” you say after unlocking room 301.

He tsk’s at you before shaking his head “don’t, it was my idea so I’ll pay”

“are you sure?” you ask closing the door behind you when he turns on the lights.

“yup-oh” he exclaims.

“this room is cute” you say, it’s small but the walls are a soft sunflower yellow, decorated with paintings of autumn leaves .

The bed looks clean, and when you smell the mouse gray blankets and pillows, they smell fresh as well.

“stop smelling the pillows” hyunjin laughs.

“I’ve never been to a motel, I thought everything would be dirty or ancient” you confess comically.

He chuckles as he comes out of the small bathroom “the bathroom is clean too, don’t worry” he says when you look at him expectantly.

“I’ll sleep on the floor if you want” he offers as you open your suitcase to get out your toothbrush and pj’s.

“it’s fine, hyunjin I’ve slept in the same bed as a male before” you joke.

“well how am I supposed to know that?” he counters, at which you throw your pj shorts at him out of reflex.

When you realize what you had done it was too late, he was already holding them out in front of him before giggling.

“very cute choice” he mocks the small white shorts with red hearts all over it.

“stoop” you whine, trying to fish it out of his hands but he holds them over his head like a kindergartener.

“I remember why I don’t like you” you pout, crossing your arms.

His face drops alongside with his arms “I thought we were past that”

You use his moment of weakness to snatch your shorts out of his hands “gotcha”

“see I told you I was gonna take you out” hyunjin beams at you before looking down at the various snacks he took from the motels vending machine, which were laying in between the both of you on the bed.

“and so luxurious too” you joke, crossing your legs.

“only the best for you” he grins when you open a pack of fruit jellies.

“you know, I was thinking about new years” you say “ and I realized that it was your fault!”

Hyunjin throws his head back as he groans playfully “why?”

“if you hadn’t lost your phone when we got back downstairs, I wouldn’t have had to write my number on your arm; or you could’ve just given me your number and I could’ve text you. But you didn’t even know your own number!” you laugh in reminiscence.

“listen” he laughs “I was drunk and you’re hot! I couldn’t think” he defends himself before taking a bite off a chocolate bar.

You blush a little but play it off with a laugh.

“but yes, I admit, it was indeed my fault” he dramatically holds his hand in front of his eyes.

“yeeees!” you exclaim victoriously.

“I’m kidding though” you pat his knee “I forgive you”

“I’m glad” he smiles.

After the both of you are done eating way too many sweets, you find yourself being really comfortable when talking to hyunjin.

He’s funny, doesn’t seem like he’s full of himself and just in general seems like a very kind person.

“I thought you were a fuckboy when me met” you confess, looking at him.

Propped on one elbow looking down at you, while you lay on your side towards him, his face illuminated only by the little lights on each of your nightstands.

“you did?” he asks confusedly.

“yea” you chuckle “you were so confident and…sexy I don’t know” you place your hand over your face in embarrassment.

“oh that was the liquid courage talking, I’m usually pretty shy” he shakes his head smilingly when you peek through your fingers.

“don’t lie” you push his shoulder softly.

“I’m serious!” he laughs.

“you were the first guy to approach me at a party” you pause “like ever”

“no way, you’re lying now” he furrows his brows.

“nope” you shake your head.

“but I was really close to not talking to you as well, I’m sure there were many guys before me that just didn’t have the liquid courage, like I did” he speculates.

“maybe” you say.

“have any exes?” he asks after a few seconds.

“yea, one”

“well how did you meet him?”

“he showed me around on my first day of freshman year, I transferred like in the middle of the first semester so I wasn’t with any other freshmen” you tell him.

“why’d you break up if I may ask?” hyunjin asks carefully.

“oh we were only together for like three weeks, you can’t even call I relationship. He used me to make his hot ex jealous and cheated on me with her” you say “but hey they’re back together at least” you scoff.

“i’m sorry” he mumbles at which you look up at him.

“it’s not your fault” you chuckle.

“well, still no one should feel that way” he says “you know that you were way too good for him right?”

You nod.

“what about you? Have any exes?” you ask back.

He snickers “only one in seoul”

“why didn’t you last?”

“it was a long distance situation, she was super jealous and couldn’t trust me. which I can understand to a certain degree but everytime I went out she wanted me to facetime her and show her what kinds of people were there with me. That was just too much” he explains.

“wow” you chuckle “that doesn’t sound fun either”

Hyunjin shakes his head “nope, but hey we got rid of ‘em, didn’t we?”

“yea” you giggle “plus if I hadn’t broken up with him I would’ve probably never gone to the new years eve party”

“I guess I owe him something then” he grins as you scooch up on the bed.

“can I kiss you?” you ask after a few seconds of silence.

“hm?” hyunjins eyes almost spring out of his head.

“I don’t want to catch you off guard” you grin as you repeat his words from the night you met, sitting up.

He licks his lower lip as a grin stretches over his face as he sits up as well “do your worst”

You get up on your knees to shuffle over to him, when you get close enough hyunjin grabs one of your thighs and lifts it over his legs so you’re straddling him.

Once you sit down on his lap, your eyes lock again and you’re once again baffled as to how someone can be so god damn attractive.

His eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips expectantly, a shaky breath leaving his lips when you lean in.

Your lips connect and it feels like all the pent up energy of liking him since that night finally gets set free, sparks glowing behind your lit and his hands leaving a trail of fire where ever they go.

They squeeze at your thighs and waist, pulling you impossibly close to himself.

A whimper tears from your throat when his tongue licks at yours, he tastes like chocolate and what could only be described as him.

He moans into the kiss when you tug at the blonde locks that weren’t pulled back into the ponytail; before pulling the hair tie out of his hair to free it and finally card your fingers through all of the blonde glory.

Before you realize what’s going on, hyunjin lifts the both of you before dropping you on your back and crawling above you.

The fact that he just lifted the both of you from a sitting position as if you weigh nothing makes you feel all types of hot.

“you’re so hot holy shit” you pant as you push his long hair out of his face.

“ditto” he only grins before attaching his lips to your exposed collarbone and sucking a bruise into the skin.

“take it off” you moan as you tug on the dark blue calvin klein shirt he’s wearing.

His lips release the skin of your collarbone before sitting up to pull the shirt over his head.

If your mouth wasn’t already open from your heavy breathing, you would’ve opened it now because his body is more sculpted and toned than you had expected.

Your hand lifts to smooth over his abs, muscles flexing as he connects your lips again.

His one hand slides from your waist up to cup one of your breasts, gently palming the soft flesh.

“I know I said I wanted to take you out first but-“ he mumbles against your lips.

“you bought me a lovely dinner” you interrupt him, threading your fingers through the hair that’s falling down into his vision.

He grins, dropping a short peck to your lips before his the grin gets wiped off his face “I don’t have a condom with me”

“I’m on the pill” you let him know “I got tested before the lockdown and I haven’t been with anyone since soo…”

“yea, me too, I was tested a few months ago” he nods.

You nod back, biting your lip as you absently play with his hair.

“do you trust me?” hyunjin asks, observing your demeanour.

“yea- yea I do I’m just nervous” you smile awkwardly.

“no” he coos before kissing you “why are you nervous?”

“just haven’t been with anyone for a while” you confess.

Hyunjin nods understandingly “if you don’t want to do this we’ll stop”

“no I really want to” you look into his eyes as confidently as you can.

“okay” he smiles, planting his lips on yours again.

“can i?” his voice gives you goosebumps when he mumbles against the sensitive skin under your ear, his fingers slowy undoing the loose knot of your heart shorts.

“yes” you say when he locks eyes with you.

“I love these shorts” he softly presses a kiss to your knee, trying to calm your nerves a little, before he gently rocks your hips to pull them off of you.

You blush a little out of embarrassment but smile when you lift your hips to help him.

“cute” he whispers when he see’s your panties have a little bow on the front.

He chuckles when you hide your face in embarrassment, pulling you closer to him again by your thighs before you let him kiss you again.

“can I take this off too?” hyunjin whispers, softly pulling at the fabric of the tank top you’re wearing, at which you nod.

You are still wearing a bra when he pulls it off so you take it into your own hands and unclasp your bra.

Your nipples stiffen a little at the sudden exposure to air, as well as to hyunjin’s admiring gaze.

“fuck” he muses when palming your breasts in his big hands, gently pushing them together an running his thumbs over your nipples.

A whimper involuntarily leaves your lips when he wraps his plump lips around one of the perked up nubs and sucks gently.

“so fucking pretty, princess” you feel yourself pathetically clench around nothing at his praise.

You feel one of his hands wander downwards to provide some friction for you, he slots his lips against yours when you tentatively roll your hips against his hand.

Hyunjin feels his cock get even harder when an almost desperate moan tumbles from your lips against his. So he ads a little more pressure and starts circling your clit with two fingers, your sighs of pleasure mixing into the kiss.

“you’re so sensitive baby” he whispers as he parts his lips from yours “can I go down on you?” he grazes his lips over your chest, looking up at you seductively.

You nod as you bite your lip, hyunjin placing a few kisses on your tummy before shortly sitting up to also free you from your soaked panties.

The first stripe he licks up your slit, and how he swirls the tip of his tongue around your clit expertly sends you to heaven.

His hands are gripping your thighs to prevent you from closing your legs, your hands are tangled in his hair and the sheets.

“hyunj-fuck” you cry out when his tongue enters you.

He carefully prods one finger at your entrance “is that okay?” he asks, his voice hoarse and dripping with lust.

“yea” you sigh.

Once you adjust to one finger, he adds a second one, curling them upwards to search for that specific patch inside of you.

“yes-fuck right there” you moan when his fingers press onto the sweetest spot inside of you, tugging at his hair a little harshly. But you feel him moan against you, getting lost in your taste as he sucks your clit in between his soft lips.

Your hips buckle against his mouth as your eyes roll backwards, feeling the warmth of your orgasm approach rapidly.

“fuck fuck yes-hyunjin” you cry out just before he tipped you over the edge with his skillful ministration, your orgasm rushing up your spine and into your head, endorphins spreading everywhere.

A cry of pleasure fills the room as your thighs starts trembling with the aftershocks, clamping around his head when he drives you into overstimulation.

“oh-shit-“ you pant as you softly pushed on his forehead to get him away from your clit, his fingers still inside you, guiding you through your high.

He nibbles on your inner thigh apologetically. You can still hear your heartbeat in your ears after hyunjin removes his fingers from you and sits up, gently holding your legs together to help you calm down.

“fuck” you mewl, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

He’s wanted to do this for so long and there you are, with all of your naked glory in front of him.

While he’s daydreaming about you, you sit up and start fiddling with his sweatpants.

“you want more?” he quips, once he realises what you’re doing, leaning in to kiss you.

“mhm” you humm into the kiss affirmitavely when his hand holds you close to him by your jaw.

With a quick last peck to your lips he simultaneously shimmies the soft black sweats and his boxers off of himself.

You apparently visibly gulp at the sight of his cock because hyunjin smirks cockily “like what you see?” as he crawls above you again, his lips finding yours again and not waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know if you’ll fit” you mumble when he suckles at the soft nook of skin under your ear.

“we can stop here” he offers softly before locking eyes again.

You shake your head as you reach down to fist his length, slowly pumping it and smearing the few drops of precum around.

“no, you’re just really big” you huff with a shy smile on your lips at which hyunjin groans.

“you’re gonna be the death of me, you know?” he mutters against your lips before kissing you deeply, his hand smoothing over the slope of your waist before coming up to gently pinch at one of your nipples.

Eliciting a soft high pitched moan from you, this only spurs him on.

Rolling his tongue against yours desperately and making you taste yourself before sinfully sucking at the wet muscle.

All the while you’re stroking him with your small hand before cupping his balls, as if he didn’t already feel like he’s gonna blow his load way too early.

“please” you whine, guiding his reddened tip towards your entrance.

Hyunjin releases a shaky breath before replacing your hand with his, rutting his hips against yours a few times, coating his length in your wetness.

This already had your toes curling, suppressing a whine as you lock your legs around his waist.

“tell me if it hurts, yea?” he breathes, only pressing inside you after you nod, dropping a kiss to your swollen lips.

“fuck” he swears softly, tucking his face in the crook of your neck when he breaches your tight walls for the first time.

Your fingers tighten in his hair at the back of his neck when a subtle sting flares up inside of you.

“ah-“ your body flinches a little when he presses further inside, hyunjin notices, observing your expression before kissing your cheek and sitting up slowly.

“you’re doing so good, baby” he lifts his thumb to his lips, swiftly kitten-licking the digit before bringing it to where your bodies join.

Gently rolling your clit under his thumb to distract you from the pain.

“you look so perfect like this” his other hand travels over your stomach to gently squeeze at your breasts “all spread out for me”

You whimper, arching your back when hyunjin thrusts into you carefully; the pain slowly subsiding and the ache to be fully filled up by him growing exponentially when his cock rubs against your g spot.

“hyunjin” you moan, gripping onto his hand, which is resting atop your breast.

“yes baby, I’m here” he groans at how tight you feel once he’s balls deep inside of you, abandoning your clit to grab you by the hips for leverage.

His other hand resting on your cheek now, after a few trusts you moan “harder, please”

Hyunjin groans and fulfils your wish, at one particularly harsh thrust, you latch your lips around his pointer and middle finger, sucking at them.

“oh my god-that’s so fucking hot” he grunts through clenched teeth.

His cock dragging along your walls deliciously, filling you up to the brim as you hum around his slender fingers in pleasure.

“you like my hands that much baby?” his jaw is clenched and the grip on your waist is rough , the contrast to how sweet he was just a few minutes earlier had you clench around him furiously.

“fuck-“ he breathes when you nod to the best of your abilities, eyes wide open and holding his gaze.

You only release his fingers from in between your lips in favour for a loud high pitched moan when his other hand finds your clit again, rubbing harsh circles into the bud.

“-gonna cum-huynjin” you dig your nails into his biceps, eyes squeezing shut.

“yea?” he grits through his teeth the fingers that were previously trapped in your mouth now wrapping around your bared throat.

Not squeezing tightly, just resting there as if to show you that you’re his now.

Your thought gets confirmed when he rasps “you’re gonna date me after this, right pretty girl?”

You do look so pretty right now, tits bouncing and skin slapping because of the fast rhythm that he’s snapping his hips into yours, not to mention the subtle sheen of sweat that’s coating the both of you.

A desperate breathy chuckle tumbles from your lips “ yes-yes fuck” you feel your second orgasm creeping up on you.

“cum for me princess, all over my cock” he urges you on, his tip hammering into the sweet spot inside of you repeatedly before you crash into your second high of the night.

Your body convulses in pleasure as you call out his name mixed with profanities, your toes curling so hard you’re not sure if you can ever uncurl them again, and your nails probably leaving painful indents in his skin.

His thumb on your clit slows down until you grab his hand for him to stop, his hand around your neck grabs your free one, holding both of your hands over your head now.

“so good, baby” he mumbles, kissing your lips; mostly just breathing into each other as he rocks you through every wave of your orgasm.

Hyunjin looses himself in you not long after with a guttural moan and his eyes squeezing shut.

You coax him through it when he rests his face against your neck again, running your fingertips through his damp hair and over his broad back, muscles tensing under your gentle touch.

i“don’t fall asleep on me” you whisper sneakily, grinning when he chuckles against your neck, tickling the soft skin there.

He props himself up again to scan over your features, pushing some hair out of your face before kissing you tenderly.

“you okay?” his hand resting at your temple as he gently runs his thumb over your hairline.

“more than” you assure him, cupping his cheeks to pull his lips onto yours again.You think you can never get enough of his lips, anything about him for that matter; not when he makes you feel so cared about and safe.

“so does this mean we’re dating now?” he whispers after he has cleaned you up and tucked the both of you in bed.

“hmh” you nod your head sleepily, positioned on his bare chest.

“so I can spoon you once we fall asleep?” he asks, grin evident in his voice.

“you can spoon me but you can’t wake me up in the middle of the night if you get horny” you mumble jokingly, enjoying his fingers running down your spine as your eyelids get heavier.

“okay” he giggles softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before you whisper your good nights to each other.

And as promised, he doesn’t wake you up in the middle of the night because he’s horny.

It’s you who wakes him, because after 10 months of wasted time, you have a lot of catching up to do.

a/n: oml this is my first ever long fic so pls pls pls give me feedback, i had so much fun writing his even though it made me feel even more single but hey :))))

allsooo i waited til after work to publish this and i just saw i hit 500 followers?!?!?! thats crazy to me omg i started this like 2 months ago and so many ppl liked my stuff so much that they decided to follow me?? so i just wanna say thank u thank u thank u for hitting the follow button even though im very unorganized and everything i do is spontaneaous and not thought out well. but hey i guess there is a reason that u followed me so thank u!

(i’d love if u sent me an ask with the first one of my writings that u stumbled across, and how <3 ...only if u want tho no pressure)

anyways thank u so much for reading if you’ve made it this far! i hope you have a great day/ night! much love

-aj

(this is a work of fiction and does not represent the real actions of stray kids or hwang hyunjin)

#omgaaaaa im finally done writing this oof it took forever but it was so much fun #thank u for reading my loves #and dont forget ur beautiful and loved and drink water #ily #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin oneshot #straykids smut #stray kids #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin e2l #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin college!au #big dick hyunjin #skskksks im sorry #i guess this is my 500 followers special lol #idk ahh ill add more tags later my brain be empty its late okay hahajajss

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

Serendipity - Part III. (Harry Styles)

a/n: hey guys!! thank you so much for those who read the last part and took the time to like/reblog/leave feedback! i want to stress how important it is that you guys do any of these things bc these are the only things that writers can use to see how their works are doing so PLEASE!! take that 30 sec to like/reblog and if you enjoyed, PLEASE leave a few words!! with this being said, here is part 3, hope you guys will enjoy it!

pairing: Harry x OC (Annalise Lloyd)

word count: 10k

warning: it gets a little steamy? not too much tho

SERIES MASTERPOST ⚫️ my masterlist ⚫️ come and talk to me about Serendipity!

Serendipity (n.) Finding something good without looking for it.

The kitchen was utter disaster before Harry has finally gotten around to clean up after cooking. Wiping all surfaces clean and washing every dish he used in the process he quickly sets his dining table for three people before diving into one of his wardrobes, mining after the board games he keeps around. There’s an impressive pile of them, all kinds and he really hopes they’ll be able to find something Benji likes. Checking the time he sees that he has only about twenty minutes left before his guests arrive, so he locks himself up in the bathroom. Washing away all the smells from the kitchen, he walks out with a clean towel wrapped around his waist, thinking about a suitable fit for the occasion.

Lis has texted him earlier to ask about the required dress code and he set it as casual/comfortable so now he has to dress according to that as well.

Pulling on a pair of light-washed jeans he pairs it with a simple white t-shirt and a grey cardigan. It’s a simple outfit, but he feels like it’s just perfect for the occasion. Checking the time once again he notes that he has only a few minutes left, when the doorbell rings. He steps to the intercom and sees through the security camera that it’s her.

“Hey, just park behind the Rover,” he instructs talking into the intercom and opening up the gate for her.

Quickly, he checks himself out one last time in the mirror next to the front door before opening it up, watching her car pull up behind his, the engine shutting before the door of the driver seat opens. Annalise appears in his sight with a warm smile, wearing jeans and a black, baggy jumper, her hair up in a loose ponytail.

“Hey!” she calls out before stepping to one of the back seats, opening up the door to help Benji out. Harry can’t push down the smile when he sees the little boy hop out of his seat holding a little blue envelope. He is wearing a white and blue checkered button-up with black jeans, looking like a little gentleman, Harry notes. He doesn’t seem shy or startled to be at a new place meeting someone he has only seen once before. Annalise takes his hand and the two of them walk up to Harry who is holding the door open for them.

“Hello!” Benji greets him with a sweet smile as they walk up the few stairs to the front door.

“Hi Benji. Nice to see you again,” Harry nods with a smile before looking up at Lis. “You too,” he adds.

“Thanks for having up,” she smiles, leading Benji inside as Harry closes the door. “Shoes,” she tells Benji, who takes off his sneakers without a fuss. Harry doesn’t have the heart to tell them they could have kept their shoes on, it doesn’t matter to him. Instead, he reaches into the small wardrobe in the hallway, fishing out slippers for them. Luckily, he has a few child ones as well, since some of his friends bring their kids around so he got a few just in case. Now it comes handy.

“Thank you,” Annalise smiles before instructing the little boy to put on his pair.

“This is for you,” Benji holds out the envelope for Harry, who looks down at it in surprise.

“Oh, thank you!” he answers, feeling startled and curious about what’s inside. He fidgets it open and pulls out the drawing that was hidden inside.

It’s a car, that he is sure about. A quite cool looking car if he is being honest. The coloring is a little off the lines and the portions are not quite right, but it’s a nice drawing, he thinks to himself. In the right corner of the page he sees the name BENJI spelt out, the letters looking a little wobbly and crooked, but it’s crystal clear.

“You drew this?” Harry questions raising his eyebrows at the little boy. Benji nods with a proud smile. “Wow, it’s amazing. Where should I put it?” he muses holding the drawing up as Benji looks around.

“Mommy always puts my drawings on the fridge,” he then answers and Harry nods.

“That’s a nice place. I think it’ll look good on my fridge. Come on, help me put it up.”

The boy follows him without a word, walking into the spacious kitchen, right to his fridge. He takes a magnet and hangs it in the middle as they all look at the new decoration

“Thank you, I think it looks great here,” Harry concludes and Benji nods in agreement.

“Benji, why don’t you wash your hand quickly before we eat?” Annalise tells him before looking at Harry. “Where’s a bathroom?”

“See that door on the left? That’s the one,” Harry explains to Benji and he nods again, running off to do his duty.

“He insisted bringing the drawing when I told him we’d be coming here today,” Annalise shares with Harry and he smiles at her, feeling touched.

“Very thoughtful.”

“Is there anything you need help with around here?” she asks, her eyes roaming around the kitchen and Harry is thankful he cleaned up after he was done with the cooking.

“No, everything is set and done. You just enjoy your time here,” he smirks and she smiles at him thankfully before Benji returns from the bathroom. “You like chicken strips, Benji?” he asks the boy upon his arrival. His eyes glisten at the mention of food, nodding eagerly as Annalise chuckles.

“That’s all he orders when we go to KFC,” she lets Harry in who grins down at Benji.

“Then this is your lucky day.”

Annalise helps Harry bring the food to the table and they all take their seats, Benji eyeing everything on the table with hungry eyes. They dig into it and Harry is relieved to see that his guests are enjoying the meal.

Harry was never afraid he wouldn’t get along well with the little boy, he is amazing around kids, easy to create a bond with them under any circumstances. It doesn’t take him long to get him to talk about school, his friends and what he likes doing in his freetime, making sure he pays enough attention to Lis as well. His home often feels empty during the days, he only has company over mostly in the evenings, but that doesn’t happen often either. So having them around brings a warm feeling to his chest as their chatter fills the room.

“So then we won and Eddy’s mum took us out to have pizza so it was great,” Benji finishes another story, his plate has emptied out not so long ago. As Harry peeks over at Lis, he sees how lovingly she is looking down at the little boy sitting across her. It’s clearer than daylight that Benji is her whole wide world and he has no problem being second after the boy. He thinks that’s just how it should be anyway and the thought that some men ever thought otherwise… it irks his buttons for sure.

“Benji, why don’t you go ahead and choose a game from the pile while we clean up the table?” Annalise tells him once everyone is done eating. He cheers in excitement and runs straight to the hoard of games waiting for him in the living room.

Harry and Lis clean the table and bring all the dirty dishes to the sink, she starts washing them without a word.

“You don’t have to,” Harry tells her, but she shakes her head.

“You cooked, I’m cleaning. Just put the leftover away,” she says smiling at him.

Harry packs away what was left from the lunch and then leans against the counter next to Lis. His eyes wander over her form, just the sight of her in the comfort of his home bubbles something deep inside him he’s been looking for for some time now. This warmth in his chest, the domesticity of such a simple thing of having her washing the dishes makes the house feel more of a home than ever.

“Do you cook often?” she asks, glancing at him shortly.

“Not as often as I probably should,” he admits. “I don’t find the time for it that often. When I’m home I tend to feel a little restless, like I should be doing something else, working on something, so I end up in my studio room down in the basement, recording something I won’t even use later.”

“Sounds like you overwork yourself.”

“Don’t have anything else to put my energy into just yet,” he shrugs his shoulders simply. “Well, at least that’s how it used to be,” he adds, a small smile playing on his lips as his eyes meet her gaze. A soft blush tints her cheeks before she turns back to the sink, finishing up the washing.

Annalise just chuckles when Benji chooses to play with UNO out of all the games Harry has to offer, but neither of them questions his choice. The three of them make themselves comfortable in the living room, Lis and Benji sit on the couch while Harry takes one of his armchairs while Benji mixes the cards. They seem to be a little too big for his hands, but he manages to finish the task just fine. They play round after round and Harry lets Benji win as much as possible, always pretending to be bummed that he lost the game. Only twice does Lis win, but Benji doesn’t mind that he has to share the victory with his mum, he has great manners, Harry notes once again.

Lis finds herself watching Harry with a fluttering heart. Every time he interacts with Benji something inside her chest feels to be growing. The way he treats the little boy, how he doesn’t seem to mind having him in the spotlight and the way he looks genuinely interested in anything Benji tells him about makes her completely forget about the doubts she was heaving before arriving. Even though she decided to be open to whatever fate has for her about Harry, she couldn’t just magically overcome all her fears from her previous experiences. She did think about canceling today, feeling reluctant if it would be a good idea or not, but now she couldn’t be happier with her choice.

Benji announces that he needs to use the toilet for something big, as he phrases, making Harry smile before he runs off to do his business.

“Sorry, he can be quite blunt sometimes,” Lis explains leaning back while Harry shuffles the cards once again.

“S’fine. He is great,” he grins, eyes meeting hers and the lock for a little longer than they intended, but they both find it hard to look away.

“Thanks for today. He is having a great time.”

“He is?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry he would let you know if he didn’t,” she chuckles making him laugh. “As I said, he can be pretty blunt.”

“I think it’s great. That he is not afraid to say what’s on his mind. I’m sure he doesn’t have trouble making friends.”

“He does not. He has this group of friends, it’s the five of them, all boys, they are like a little gang and I feel like Benji is some kind of leader. But not like a bossy one. They were all over at ours for his birthday and I was afraid he would act like a little king, but he always made sure to include everyone.” “That’s amazing. You taught him so well, Lis. Really, you should be very proud of yourself.” Not knowing how long Benji will take, he dares to take his seat next to Lis, he turns to face her, pulling a leg up, his knee brushing against the side of her thigh. The urge to just lean in and kiss her is growing, but he tells him he needs to keep himself at bay, not sure how far he is allowed to go.

She feels his hesitation, she sees the way he glances down at her lips longingly and she wants to give in. She almost does, because her attraction towards Harry grows with each passing moment, but just when she is about to give in, she hears Benji flush the toilet, kind of breaking the moment. Licking her lips she takes a deep breath to get her into the right mindset before Benji arrives back.

“Can we build a card castle?” Benji asks excited as he runs back into the living room, not even noticing that Harry has taken his spot on the couch. He kneels down next to the coffee table, taking the cards and starting anyway.

Harry pays one last lingering look to Lis before turning his attention back at the boy, lending him a helping hand in the building process.

It’s way past five by the time Annalise and Benji are getting ready to leave. Benji managed to convince them to watch a movie once he got bored with the cards, so they ended up in Harry’s movie room, which completely blew his mind away and they watched Zootopia.

Now Benji is rambling about his football game coming up next weekend and how he’ll score the most goals for sure.

“Will you come to see me, Harry?” he asks with bright eyes, the question catches him by surprise, but Lis as well. Harry glances up at her immediately, not sure what to say.

“Oh, Benji, Harry might have work that day—“

“I would love to,” he blurts out and it’s the truth. “I-If it’s fine by you as well,” he adds, still looking at her.

“Are you sure you’re not busy?”

“Lis, I wouldn’t say it if I was busy. I think I can make it work, but I’ll check back with you later this week, alright?”

“Yeah. Sure,” she nods, clearly surprised how quickly Benji grew a liking to him.

“Yay! See you later then, Harry!” Benji cheers, waving goodbye to Harry who feels touched by this little gesture. He runs down the stairs and jolts right towards the car, Lis following him behind.

Harry watches her help him into the car, shutting the door once he is all buckled up and instead of getting into the car as well, she walks back up to Harry who is still standing at the door. When she walks up the stairs she pushes him a little back into the house so they fall out of Benji’s sight, Harry is a little puzzled, but he quickly forgets about his racing thoughts once Annalise’s lips meet his in a sweet kiss.

Pushing his surprise aside he is quick to recover, arms circling around her waist while hers cup his cheeks gently. It’s not a long kiss, neither a passionate one, but it’s exactly what they both needed. Their lips move in sync and he hesitantly, but licks her bottom lip before their tongues meet in the middle.

“Lunch sometime this week?” she asks, quite out of breath, the smallest smile tugging on her plump lips.

“Yeah, I-I’ll text you?” he breathes out, lips still tingling from the kiss he has been dreaming about for quite a while now.

“Okay,” she chuckles, placing a soft peck to his lips before turning around and going back to her car.

Harry stands at the door, stunned and completely blown away as he watches them leave, Benji waves in his way one last time before they disappear, out the gate, out of his sight.

“You are oddly quiet, but like, in a good way” Chloé states, eyes examining her best friend as they are sitting comfortably on a bench at the nearby park they often take Benji out. It has a nice and popular playground right in the middle and Benji loves playing with the kids from around the neighborhood here.

Annalise just smirks innocently, shrugging her shoulder, fingers digging into the apple slices in the box she packed as a snack.

“You also haven’t told me about a certain singer lately, but from the glow on your face, I assume things are going great?” she nudges her, happy to see Lis so happy and careless.

“I guess,” she shortly nods, still avoiding to look at her best friend.

“Elaborate. You know I’m too nosy not to know every little detail,” Chloé teases her, making her laugh.

“Oh, I know how nosy you are, don’t worry.”

“So? How is our favorite singer?”

“He is… fine. We’ve been getting close.”

“Which means…?”

“Which means that we’ve been meeting up constantly.”

“For fuck’s sake, Lis, would you just give me the whole thing? Why do I have to pull it out of you word by word?”

“What do you want to know?” Annalise chuckles at her impatient friend.

“How big?” she bluntly asks, making Lis gasp at the question.

“That I don’t know and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“How mean! I deserve to know it! Though I’m disappointed you haven’t jumped his bones yet.”

“What were you expecting? We’ve been seeing each other for a little over a month only. In mother time, that’s like… two days,” she jokes.

“Stop with this bullshit. You might be a mother, but you’re still a 25 year-old hot bitch.”

“Hearing you call me a mother and a bitch in the same sentence is ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously on-point,” Chloé scoffs. “Alright, so tell me, what’s stopping you from sleeping with him? You know you can always bring Benji over for a sleepover so you can shag Mr. One Direction.”

“And now you are mentioning Benji and shagging in the same sentence, would you stop?” Annalise chuckles, stuffing another slice of apple into her mouth.

“I’m just trying to get you laid!”

“Well, I don’t need help, okay?” she retorts, but her fast response gets Chloé to think.

“Wait, you have something planned already, right?” Annalise doesn’t answer, her eyes dart over to Benji at the swings playing with two other little boys, but the blush on her cheeks gives her away. “Oh shit! You have something planned! Tell me!”

“Why would I tell you when you’ll just make fun of me?” she sighs, finally turning to face her.

“I would never make fun of you shagging the hottest singer in Britain. No, in the whole world, probably.”

Huffing to herself, Lis looks around, making sure no one hears what they are talking about, before turning back to Chloé.

“Benji has a sleepover birthday party next weekend. I thought I would… ask Harry if he wants to come over. I’d cook something, get some wine… you know. A kind of cozy date night.”

“That’s literally the sweetest shit ever,” Chloé sighs. “Now I feel horribly single.”

“Stop it!” Lis chuckles. “You have at least five men waiting for your call.”

“Yeah, whatever. So, does this late night involve the dirty deed?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind,” she admits shyly. It’s been so long since she was intimate with anyone, she sometimes feels like a silly teenage girl, especially when it comes to Harry. He makes her feel things she thought she would never experience.

“Go girl! Get that D!” Chloé cheers, making Lis gasp at her bluntness once again.

“Chlo! There are kids around!”

“If a kid knows what the D means, their childhood is already ruined, so don’t come for me.”

“Chloé! Come see what I can do!” Benji emerges from the group of kids, dragging Chloé with himself, leaving Annalise alone on the bench.

Now that she said her plans with Harry out loud, she can’t help but feel nervous. What if it’s too soon? Or what if Harry is not even free that evening? Scared that her dream date might go down the drain, she grabs her phone from her bag and dials his number.

“Hey!” he greets her cheerfully, always so happy to hear from her.

“Hi, am I bothering you?”

“No, I’m just in the car. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to ask if… you had any plans next Saturday.”

“I have a studio session until six, but I’m free after that. What do you have in mind?” Harry asks, a little surprised she asked him out, but it’s clearly making his chest warm up, knowing that she is thinking about him too.

“Benji was invited to a birthday party and it’s a sleepover… So I’ll have the house for myself. I thought I could cook something, we could have some wine, you know.” She nervously scratches the bench next to her thigh, nervous to hear his reaction to the idea.

“Oh, that sounds perfect! But if you’re cooking, let me take care of the wine. What kind do you like?”

“Um, I’m not an expert. Bring whatever you like, I’m sure I’ll be fine with that too.”

“Okay, but I won’t be the one to drink it,” he chuckles.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t drink and drive, Love.”

“Why—“ she cuts herself off realizing what Harry meant. He didn’t think it would involve him staying the night, so now she has to bring that up as well. Just great. “Harry, you wouldn’t have to drive,” she says, hoping her tone gives away the real meaning behind her words.

“Oh,” Harry breathes out, clearly surprised. “Are you sure?”

“I am. So, bring whatever you like.”

“Alright. Great,” he says and she just knows he is grinning ear to ear. “Saturday it is then. Does lunch on Wednesday still stand?”

“Of course,” you chuckle. “See you later then.”

Annalise’s hand slides down her sides, smoothing the fabric softly on her frame, her eyes cautiously examining the outfit. She’s changed about three times now, feeling so nervous that she finds something in everything he puts on. She knows she is running out of time, but she still can’t put her critiques aside. She wants to look perfect for Harry.

At last, she forces herself to stay in the white satin dress that hugs her curves just perfectly. She doesn’t like it that her arms are on display, but since the oven has been on for hours now, the whole place feels so hot and she doesn’t want to sweat out of her clothes for sure. She quickly brushes her hair and fixes some smudged mascara off from under her eyes before shuffling into the kitchen to check the chicken in the oven. It’s coming together perfectly, the top is already starting to look nice and crisp, she’ll just give it a few more minutes before turning the heat off.

She puts on some soft music quietly to fill the silence, and quickly fixes the pillows on the couch just when the doorbell rings, making her jump a little. Taking a deep breath she rushes over and swings it open, revealing Harry standing on the doormat, wearing black and white checkered pants with a black button down shirt, the first few buttons left undone to give her a teasing look of his tattooed chest. He is holding two bottles of champagnes in his left hand as he smirks down at her.

“Hey, come in!” she breathes out in excitement.

“Hi,” he smiles and as he steps inside, he leans down, kissing her lips softly. “You look beautiful,” he compliments her, making her blush in a heartbeat.

“Thank you. You look nice too.” He nods smiling as she locks the door and turns to her holding the bottles up.

“Couldn’t really decide, so I brought a white and a red one.”

Her eyes fall on the bottles and though she is not an expert, she can tell those wines cannot be bought in a Tesco, they must cost a fortune.

“Harry you shouldn’t have—“ “None of that,” he cuts her off. “Just want you to have a nice evening, okay?”

Breathing out, her features softens as she steps closer and places a soft peck to his lips.

“Food is almost done. Would you mind helping me set the table?”

“Sure, lead the way.”

While Annalise takes the chicken out and finishes up the last touches, Harry sets the table carefully and opens one of the wines, filling two glasses. He helps her carry the food to the dining table and can’t help but notice how nervous she seems.

“Hey,” he softly says putting a hand to her knee gently as they sit at the table. “Stop worrying, okay? No pressure.” “I’m sorry, it’s just… been so long that I’ve been in this position,” she breathes out nervously.

“I just want you to have a good time, alright? I’m happy with just being around you, honestly.” “I hate how understanding you always are,” she chuckles and he raises his eyebrows at him.

“What do you mean?” he asks in amusement.

“It’s just… this voice in the back of my mind keeps telling me to keep my guards up, but you literally give me no reason to do that, being such a gentleman and all. So I’m having this… nonsense conflict with myself,” she admits chuckling. “Sorry, it doesn’t make sense.”

“No, I get it. Totally. I’m sorry that you feel that way and… I just want you to know that we have time. Whenever you finally let go of your doubts, I’ll be happy about it, but I’ll stay here in the meanwhile as well.”

For a moment, she feels like she is about to start crying. No one has ever made her feel this safe, especially not a man she was dating, but Harry managed to bring her this sense of comfort from the very first moment. Even when she was planning to never see him again, her heart was aching to leave such a wonderful man.

“Thank you,” she breathes out and leaning closer, she kisses him. It’s a longer one, but not too hard, more of a lingering touch of their lips. Harry’s hand reaches up to cup her face and as his thumb runs along her cheekbone a shiver runs down her spine.

Pulling back she takes a deep breath to settle herself in reality.

“Alright. Um… let’s eat, I’m starving.”

As the wine diminishes gradually, the more loose they both become, keeping up the conversation without any breaks. Nothing is off-topic, they can talk about anything and everything. Harry insists taking up on the washing duty, so while he is elbows deep in the sink, Lis stands next to her with a kitchen towel to dry the dishes. They both feel a little giddy, but thanks to the food, neither of them drunk just yet. It’s the perfect amount of tipsy, her cheeks are flushed and his fingertips are buzzing. The fear she felt earlier about where the night would head has slowly turned into pure desire. She wants this, she wants him, more than she has wanted anyone in her life.

“Thank you for the amazing food,” he murmurs once everything is spotless and clean. His hands find her waist, pulling her against his chest, her fingertips dance across his chest until they find the soft curls at the back of his neck.

“Mm, thanks for the amazing wine,” she comments cheekily, making him chuckle before he dips his head down and captures her lips in a sweet kiss.

It starts innocently, so light and delicate, but soon enough they both grow hungrier, needing more and more. His fingers dig into the small of her back, wrinkling the soft fabric of her dress as he turns them until she is trapped between him and the counter behind her. She buries her fingers into his hair, grabbing a handful in each hand, making him moan from the gentle tugging. He is quick to hoist her up, making her sit on the countertop and her knees part on their own, letting him stand close to her.

His lips travel down to her jawline, down her neck and delicate collarbone, leaving lustful kisses everywhere he can, making her get wetter with each touch he leaves on her soft skin.

“Harry,” she breathes out when his ring clad fingers dig into her thighs, pulling her forward so her center meets his hips and it’s clear just how excited he is about the situation.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he breathes out against her neck before his lips return to hers, kissing her harder than ever.

“Don’t fucking stop. Just… take this to the bedroom, yea?” she pants and he nods, pushing himself away a little so she can hop off the counter.

She leads the way up to the bedroom and though Harry would love to look around in this very intimate space of hers, he is a little too occupied at the moment. Before she could reach the bed he grabs the end of her dress and pulls it off swiftly, leaving her in her matching bra and thong, something she bought especially for this occasion.

“Lis, fuck,” he whines, so whipped by how amazing she looks.

“Let’s get rid of this as well,” she whispers, biting into her bottom lip as her fingers work fast on his buttons, the shirt soon joining her dress somewhere on the floor. She can’t stop herself from running her palms up and down his chest, feeling the heat of his body under her skin, making her lose her breath.

He grabs a hold of her thighs easily, earning a small squeak from her as he walks the rest of the way to the bed and throws her to it, getting on top of her without hesitation. His lips are quick to meet the soft skin on her neck once again, nipping it gently, making her back arch from sensation. The kisses wander down her collarbone, the swell of her breasts and he just can’t get enough of her. He is taking his time with the exposed skin, a hand sliding between her back and the mattress, working on the clasp.

“Is this okay?” he pants the question and she nods immediately. The clasp comes undone and she wiggles her shoulders until the straps slide down her arms. He is the one to grab the bra and throw it away. “Fuck, you are so beautiful,” he breathes out at the sight of her exposed chest, making her tremble from his words. She has never been so praised and appreciated before, Harry makes her feel like she really is the only woman to exist.

A hand comes up to cup her left breast while kissing her right one until his lips wrap around her pebbled nipple, sucking on it gently.

“Fuck! Yes!” she moans, her fingers lacing through his hair. She is completely lost in him, all she sees, hears and feels is Harry and at that moment she is convinced that it’s what has to happen. She wouldn’t be anywhere else with anyone else than him right now.

Grabbing onto his shoulders, she pulls him up so their lips meet again in a hungry, demanding kiss as her hands slide down to his pants, eager to get it undone as fast as possible. Once it’s done, he is quick to push them down his long legs, leaving him in only his boxer briefs, a moan escaping his pink, swollen lips when his erection meets her heated core once he is right above her.

That’s it. That’s the moment from where there’s no turning back, not that any of them want to, they are both so desperate to get closer, they wouldn’t want it to end for anything.

Her hands move down his chest until her fingers reach the elastic band of his underwear. She hooks her pointing fingers into it on both sides and just as she is about to pull them down, her phone starts ringing.

“Fuck,” she pulls away, her chest heaving wildly and he is just as big of a mess as she is. Reaching for the device on the nightstand, her eyes go wide seeing the caller. “Fuck, oh my God, I need to take this. It’s Sylvia, she is the mom where Benji is sleeping over,” she jabbers, grabbing the covers to pull over her chest out of instinct.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Harry nods, trying his best to catch his breath.

“Sylvia! Hi! Everything alright?” she starts answering the call.

“Hey, sorry to call you so late, but Benji is not feeling too good.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“He says his tummy hurts, tried to give him some tea, but I didn’t know what kind of medicine you use, so I didn’t give him anything. He says he wants to go home.”

“Oh, shit. Okay, uh, I can’t drive, I’ve had some wine already,” she breathes out in frustration, feeling her panic taking over.

“Oh, it’s alright, Pete can take him home if it’s alright by you.”

“Yes, thank you so much! Thank you for calling!”

“It’s alright. I’ll get him ready and I think they’ll be home in about fifteen.”

“Thank you and sorry for the inconvenience,” she apologizes.

“Don’t worry about it. I hope he’ll feel better!”

The call ends, leaving Lis in a frantic state and Harry knows something is wrong.

“What happened?” he asks sitting up on the bed.

“I, uhh—Benji, he is not feeling well so the birthday kid’s dad is bringing him home,” she answers, already getting out of the bed, grabbing a sweatshirt and shorts from a pile of clothes near her wardrobe. “Shit,” she curses when she struggles to put on the sweatshirt, her arm getting stuck in it.

“Hey, slow down, it’s all fine. Go get whatever medicine he needs, can I help with anything?” Harry stands up, grabbing his clothes from the floor and he gets dressed as well.

“Um, there is a blue blanket he likes to sleep with when he is sick. Can you find that for me? It’s in there somewhere,” she gestures towards her wardrobe and Harry nods, starting his search right away. “Harry I’m so sorry, this—“

“Don’t worry about it. Just do what you need to do,” he shushes her and she sends him a thankful look before running out to get everything ready by the time Benji arrives.

Annalise is already outside when the car arrives, greeting Pete with soft thank you’s as she helps Benji out of the car. He looks tired and a frown tugs on his sweet features now, he clearly doesn’t feel well.

“Oh baby, come on,” she coos at him softly. “Thank you Pete!”

“No problem. Get well, Champ!” the man waves before them off before getting in the car and driving away.

“What hurts, Sweety?” she asks Benji as they walk inside.

“My tummy!” he whispers frowning.

“Alright, I’ll get you some medicine and then you can sleep, alright?”

“Harry?” he asks, looking a little surprised, finding the man standing in the kitchen, the blue blanket in his hands.

“Hi Benji. Not feeling good?” he asks softly, looking down at the little boy with nothing but patience and sympathy. Benji shakes his head pouting.

“Here,” Harry softly says and hands the boy the blanket, who mumbles a soft thank you.

“Mummy, can I sleep with you?” he pleads looking up at Lis.

“Yeah, of course, come on. Let’s get you settled.” She gives him his medication, gets him changed and makes him comfortable in her bed, tucked in his blue blanket.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” she whispers softly, kissing his forehead. He nods into the pillow, already drifting off to sleep. Walking out she closes the door quietly, heading back down where Harry is sitting at the kitchen island. He hears her footsteps and he stands up from the stool, feeling a little lost after everything that just happened.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t expecting it,” she apologizes right away, but he shakes his head.

“Don’t worry. How is he?”

“We’ll see in the morning. Maybe he just ate something that upset his stomach.”

“That’s good,” he nods, brushing his palms down his thighs. “I’ll, um, call a taxi and leave—“

“Don’t!” she finds herself replying right away, surprising the both of them. “I-I… I don’t want you to leave, I just…”

“I could… stay on the couch,” he offers, eyes softening on her. “If it’s alright for me to still spend the night.”

“Of course. I want you here. I’m sorry our night got ruined.”

“Don’t even say that.” He takes her hands and pulls her closer, wrapping his arms around her hunched frame.

“I just… I’m sorry, this is… This is my life, and—“

“I know,” he cuts her off. “And honestly, I’m fine with it, okay? Don’t worry about me. Benji needed you, we’ll have another time to ourselves, alright? I loved tonight nevertheless, don’t try to convince yourself otherwise.”

She nods quietly, his lips meet her forehead before she tilts her head back and kisses him.

“It’s a pullout. I’ll get you a pillow and a blanket,” she tells him. While she gathers the necessities, he moves the small coffee table aside and pulls the couch out. Annalise brings him everything he needs and makes sure he is at least comfortable now that he was forced to spend the night in the living room.

“Thank you for being so understanding,” she whispers, kissing him one last time.

“Always,” he murmurs, his nose nudging against hers playfully. “Good night.”

“Good night, Harry.”

With one last peck she leaves. Benji is all curled up in her bed and as she lies beside him, her thoughts relentlessly go out to the man sleeping on the couch right now. Even with the unpleasant turn of events, tonight has been everything she could dream of. If only they had more time alone…

Benji is still asleep, spread out on the bed when Annalise wakes up. Rubbing her eyes she sees that it’s only barely past eight, so Benji will be asleep a little longer for sure. She carefully gets out of the bed and ties her hair up, trying her best to tame her messy locks. When she walks out of the room she hears glasses clinking downstairs and arriving to the kitchen she is surprised to see Harry there, deep in focus as he is trying to figure out how to make the coffee machine work.

“Morning!” she smiles walking inside. He turns in the direction of her voice, a smile playing on his pink lips. He is wearing the same clothes as last night, but his hair is now messy, eyes a little puffy from his sleep.

“Hey! Sorry for barging into the kitchen alone, just wanted to make some coffee.”

“It’s alright,” she smiles back and stepping closer she steals a quick kiss. “Let me help.”

The two of them move around each other, Harry finishes up the coffees after Lis has showed him how to make the machine work, and in the meanwhile she makes some toasties quickly. Then they sit at the kitchen island, eating silently and appreciating this moment they have to themselves in the morning.

“Lis, I wanted to talk about something.”

“Yeah?” she turns to him, sipping on her coffee.

“I’m… flying to LA in two days.”

She stops chewing as his words sink in. All this time she almost completely forgot that Harry’s life is not always based in London. They were just lucky enough to have some time to themselves with him staying in the same place for a longer time.

“Oh. Okay.”

“It’s gonna be two weeks. I have some important meetings and stuff to take care of.”

“Sure, understandable.”

He puts his mug down and turns to her fully. She does the same, their eyes meeting and they both seem anxious and fragile in the moment. Reaching out he takes her hands between his warm palms, giving them a gentle squeeze.

“I want you to know that while I’ll be away, I will… I won’t be…” He doesn’t seem to find the right words and she finds it cute, a smile tugging on her lips. “Fuck, what I’m trying to say is that I think of us as… that we are exclusive. This is what I’m trying to say, that I won’t be… looking for someone else?”

“You are so cute when you are nervous,” she chuckles.

“Sorry, it always feels so weird to talk about this kind of stuff,” he admits breathing out shakily. “But anyway, this was my way of saying that I see us as a… couple.”

“That’s cool, because I see us the same way,” she smiles. “And I’m glad you won’t be looking for someone else in LA,” she adds chuckling, making him laugh as well.

“I’m sorry I need to leave though,” he breathes out, his hands finding her knees. His fingers start drawing little circles to her exposed skin.

“It’s fine, I understand,” she smiles gently. It’s not that she likes the idea of him being so far away, but just like she has her own baggage, he comes with his own as well and she is more than ready to accept him just as he is.

Leaning in he kisses her lips softly and just as he is about to drag it out a little, footsteps are heard from the stairs and he leans back just in time before Benji appears.

“Hey baby. Feeling better?”

“Yes. I’m hungry!” he states, climbing to the third stool at the kitchen island. “Hi Harry,” he nods in his way, not even caring about why he is here in the morning.

“Mornin’ Benji,” he smirks at the boy as Lis goes to make some more toasties for him.

Following breakfast Benji is off to clean up his room a little, so Harry and Lis have some alone time. Annalise walks Harry out to his car and they stop before he would get inside, turning to Lis for a kiss.

“Stay safe, okay? Need you back in one piece,” she tells him, feeling shy, but warm at the same time from being able to say that to him.

“Oh you do?” he smirks down at her teasingly, kissing her softly as his hands find her waist, pulling her close to him.

“I do,” she smiles. “So, see you in two weeks?”

“Yeah. I’ll call you though. Thanks for the breakfast.”

He presses one last kiss to her lips, forcing himself not to drag it any longer because if he did, he knows he won’t be able to leave anytime soon. She steps away from the car as he gets in, smiling at each other through the window before he starts the car. She watches him drive away with a heavy heart, thinking about how hard it will be to not see him for two weeks. But there’s nothing she can do about it.

Harry has always felt like he had different lives in different cities. He is like another man in London, in New York and in LA, the three cities where he mostly spends his time. It’s not exactly a change in him whenever he is in another place, more like the people that surround him and he hasn’t had any hustle switching whenever he was traveling.

However, for the first time in years, he finds himself being an outsider in LA, his heart lusting to go back to London, to Annalise.

One meeting follows the other, he has a few fittings and an interview as well, joined with a photoshoot. He finds himself rather lucky to be so busy, otherwise he would surely feel the homesick kicking in harder than ever. He hasn’t had any problem with it since he was nineteen, he has gotten used to living all over the place. It took him quite some time to accept that he has to be away with his mum and sister, but now he has to go over the same thing with Annalise, knowing that she won’t be able to travel with him, but still, he is planning on the long run with her, so he has no other choice than get used to it.

The bar is packed, after all it’s a Friday night. That’s exactly why Harry didn’t want to come out, but he was kind of forced. Sitting in the corner of the booth he is trying to let loose and enjoy his time with his friends, nursing a beer that’s been sitting on the table in front of him for a while now.

When Jeff returns from the call he had to make quickly outside, he eyes Harry suspiciously. It’s not like him to be so closed off and distant, he is usually the first one to ask for a round of shots, but not tonight.

“Everything alright, mate?” he asks grabbing Harry’s attention.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” “So why the long face then?”

“Just… not in the mood, I guess,” he shrugs it off, but he can’t fool someone who has known him as long as Jeff.

“Okay, does this have anything to do with the songs you’ve been writing?”

“Who told you?” he smirks in disbelief as Jeff takes a sip from his beer.

“Mitch might be quiet, but he surely likes to gossip,” he chuckles lightly. “So, who is the girl?”

“Met her on New Year’s Eve. Thought I would never see her again, but then we ran into each other and… I haven’t stopped thinking about her since then,” he truthfully admits. “She is the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, Jeff. So not like anyone else I’ve ever known.”

“Woah, she really got you.”

“Yeah,” he nods chuckling. “I’m just so afraid of messing it up.”

“Why would you? It sounds like it’s heading in the right direction.”

“She… She has a kid so it’s a little complicated. I just really don’t want to mess anything up, because it would be twice as bad. I would hate to know I disappointed Benji.”

“Wait, so you met the kid too?”

“I did, he is a fun little guy,” he chuckles thinking back at the time he has spent with Benji. From the time they played UNO at his house, through the football game Harry went to just as he promised, all the way to when he took Benji and Lis to their favorite pizza place one afternoon when Lis told Harry through the phone that he’s had a shitty day. Harry didn’t hesitate to end his meeting a little early just so he could pick them up and take them to their favorite place for a slice. He will never forget the shine in both Benji’s and Annalise’s eyes that day. Right then he knew he would do anything for the both of them without a second thought. The fact that he was falling for Lis faster and deeper than ever kind of scares him, but he is ready to give the feeling everything he has.

“Man, you are whipped!” Jeff chuckles leaning back in his seat. “Should I be planning your hiatus?” he asks half-jokingly, though they both know if Harry were to decide to take some time off, Jeff would support him no matter what’s the reason behind it.

“No, not yet. We are still just trying to make it work,” Harry smiles at him, just the thought of being an official couple with Lis makes his heart beat ten times faster.

“Look, just make sure you communicate. You know you sometimes suck in that, but I think that’s what she needs the most.” “Yeah, I know.”

“She is responsible for a kid too, she needs to know exactly what you think, she probably doesn’t have any time or energy to play games.”

“I don’t want to play games with her.”

“Great. Then use your head, think and then talk. It can’t turn out too bad if you follow these easy steps.”

Harry nods, taking a mental note, hoping he won’t forget about the advice when he needs it the most.

The conversation around them carries on and Jeff soon abandons their discussion, leaving Harry with his own thoughts. He has been thinking about Annalise continuously ever since he left her house that morning and his time apart from her just made him realize how deeply he feels for her truly. Every second, every minute, he just wants to know what she’s doing and if she’s alright. Their little FaceTime calls have been his favorite parts of his days and in all honesty, he can’t wait to get back to London and hold her in his arms.

Excusing himself from his group of friends, he walks out of the bar to the street, finding himself a secluded spot on the corner. He does some quick math in his head coming to the conclusion that she is probably already up, getting ready for work, so he decides to just call her without texting first. Luckily, Annalise has been up for a while when the call arrives, a wide smile tugging on her lips as she answers it right away.

“Hey!” she greets him, her voice alone warms his chest.

“Hi, I didn’t wake you, right?”

“No, I just finished my morning coffee. Where are you?”

“Just out with a few friends.”

“So then why are you calling me?” she chuckles softly.

“Because… I missed your voice, so I called you,” he admits a little shyly, a blush warming his cheeks that she can’t see now, unfortunately. “I miss you.”

“Miss you too, Harry. But you’ll be back soon, right?”

“Yes. I can’t wait to see you again and kiss you again.”

“Why are you being so cheesy all of a sudden?” she laughs, but secretly, she loves knowing he feels the same way as she does.

“Sometimes I’m cheesy. You don’t like it?” he smirks, hearing her laugh through the line.

“I like it, don’t worry.”

“How was your day yesterday?” he asks and then he just listens to her talking.

With a crowded bar behind him, a group of people waiting for his return, he still stays outside listening to Annalise tell him about the smallest things that happened to her lately. And he loves every second of it. If only she didn’t have to leave to work, he would willingly and happily stay there and talk to her for hours.

“Alright, I need to help Benji get ready. Talk to you later?”

“Yeah, tell Benji I said hi.”

“Will do. Take care!”

“You too. Bye.”

As the call ends, he stays put for a little longer, opening up his camera roll, scrolling down a little until he finds the photo he took of Lis at one of their lunch dates. She is laughing wholeheartedly, wearing her scrubs and an oversized zip-up hoodie, cheeks slightly blushed from something he said. He hasn’t been the kind to set up personal photos as his lockscreen, but looking at this picture the urge is stronger than ever, though he knows he can’t. Fans are always so eagle-eyed when it comes to paparazzi photos, he doesn’t want them to start speculating if they accidentally get a glimpse of his screen. Instead, he opens up his text thread with Lis and types her a quick message.

Harry: Miss you. Have a great day Xx.

Just a few moments later comes her reply.

Lis: Miss you too, can’t wait to see you again :)

Lis: Harry, forgot I had a parents’ meeting in Benji’s school tomorrow. Can’t make it to the airport :(

Harry: Don’t worry about it. When will you be off?

Lis: God knows… these stuff last forever ugh

Harry: Just text me whenever it ended and I can come over or something

Lis: Will do and I’m so sorry!

Harry: It’s all good :)

Harry can’t help but sigh as he rereads the texts he exchanged just before his plane took off. He was really looking forward to meet Lis as soon as she got off work, but her parental duties come first as always and though he knows she can’t do anything about it, the situation still upsets him. He had a dinner reservation for the two of them since she said Benji would stay over at Chloé’s for the night, giving the whole evening and night to them, but it all just went down the drain when her text found him while he was packing to leave.

When the plane touches down and Harry makes his way through the terminal, he still finds himself looking around, hoping to see Annalise’s bright eyes, though he sees nothing but strangers around him.

Arriving home he breezes through the packing quite fast since he has been doing it a lot in the past decade. He makes a quick trip to the nearby Tesco to fill up his fridge and he buys some snacks in hopes Lis will call soon and he can be over so they can watch a movie and hopefully stay unbothered for the rest of the night.

Around seven, he shoots her a quick what’s up? text that stays unanswered, but also unread. He figures she is still stuck at the meeting so he tries to make himself busy with sorting out some emails he has been delaying to answer to in the past two days. Hour passes after hour and Harry’s hope to see Lis slowly starts to vanish. When the clock strikes nine he figures she won’t be calling anytime soon since it’s a weekday and he knows she doesn’t like staying up late when she has work the next day.

He is just about to give up on the waiting and take a shower, get ready to bed when his phone finally chimes. He basically throws himself at it, opening it faster than light.

Lis: let me in? :)

He stares down at the screen a tad bit longer, his breath caught in his throat as he realizes that he should do something. Dropping the phone to the couch he rushes to the front door, seeing her standing at the gate through the security cameras, so he quickly opens it for her, throwing the door open.

Lis walks up to the house with rushed steps, both of them smiling widely and Harry still can’t believe she just showed up.

“What happened to texting me when you’re done?” he asks in disbelief.

“Thought I would surprise you,” she giggles just as they meet halfway and Harry doesn’t hesitate to envelope her in his arms, lips pressing to hers so hard she bends backwards, right into his hands that press into her waist.

“I’m proper surprised, baby,” he smirks against her lips, making her chuckle.

“Yeah? Do you want to be even more surprised?” Harry’s eyebrows rise.

“Always.”

“I’m wearing a corset and tights under this,” she whispers in excitement and his eyes light up like it’s Christmas day.

Without a word he picks her up, throwing her over his shoulder to bring her inside, she laughs loudly, feeling like a rag doll, but she doesn’t mind it a bit. Not tonight.

When the front door closes behind them and her feet meet the floor again, he stares down at her with pure lust and hunger in his eyes. She is wearing a little black dress with a thin trench coat on top, paired with nude heels, her hair is pinned up with a hairclip and she is wearing only a thin layer of makeup, barely anything. Harry looks down at her and thinks to himself: he will never find another woman like her. Not that he wants to.

“Before we do anything, let me set an alarm, because I won’t be thinking about it once I get started with you. When do you need to leave in the morning to pick Benji up before work?” he asks, quickly shuffling into the living room to grab his phone from the coffee table.

“We don’t need an alarm,” she softly says, making him arch his eyebrows. “Benji is staying at Chloé’s and she is taking him to school as well and I have the day off tomorrow.”

“Really?” he asks, stunned that they have a whole day to themselves.

“Yeah. I just need to pick Benji up from school in the afternoon.”

“What months is this?” he then suddenly asks, earning a puzzled look from Annalise.

“Um, what?”

“Just asking because I’m pretty sure it must be the 1st of February and my fucking birthday to have you all to myself for this long,” he states and she can’t help but laugh at him. Walking over to him, she grabs the phone from his hands and tosses it to the couch beside them before curling her arms around his neck, pressing her body up against his hard chest.

“Consider this a late birthday gift, if you’d like. We weren’t too close back then, so I wasn’t able to give you anything.”

“You mean you were trying to keep yourself away from me back then, right?” he teases her, but she just rolls her eyes at his comment.

“You want me to keep myself away from you now, Styles?” she cheekily challenges and he shakes his head immediately, hands latching onto her waist to keep her close in case she wants to move away.

“Not at all. In fact, let’s just get rid of this quickly,” he mumbles, hands working fast to slip the coat off her shoulders and then he simply grabs the hem of her dress and pulls it up with a swift movement, leaving her in said corset with a matching set of lingerie. His lips part and he almost gasp at how amazing she looks, even though she feels a little shy in this revealing outfit.

“Thank God for whoever invented corsets,” he mumbles under his breath, eyes glued to her body as she chuckles lightly.

“You gotta help me get out of it though, it needs more than two hands,” she admits stepping closer to kiss his lips shortly.

“Wait, then who helped you put it on?” he asks, feeling his possessive side kick in immediately.

“It was just Chloé. She also didn’t hold back the teasing about me finally getting railed tonight,” she adds with an awkward chuckle. She is not used to talking about sex this openly, especially since she hasn’t done it in ages. Following their failed attempt last time, she’s been stressing even more about her first time with Harry. He has been nothing but the best to her in every sense, she just wants to show him how much it means to her, make him feel good and treat him like he deserves to be treated.

The way she just openly said that she is about to get railed by him does some unholy things to him, though he can’t not notice the hint of anxiousness in her eyes. Cupping her cheeks in his hands he lifts her head up so she is forced to look into his eyes.

“You alright? Are you sure about this?” he asks softly, wanting nothing else than to make her feel safe around him.

“I am. It’s just been a while since I was with someone. I don’t want to… disappoint you.” Her voice dies into a whisper and she licks her dry lips, her nerves taking over her. Harry smiles down at her softly.

“You can never disappoint. Just be honest and open with me, yeah? I want you to enjoy it as much as I will. Tell me what you like and want and I’ll do all that. I’ll do the same, deal?”

A sense of relief washes over her, knowing that she has found the man she’s been looking for so long and he is right there in front of her, ready to please her. Nodding her head shortly she takes a deep breath.

“Harry?” she whispers.

“Yeah?”

“I want… you to take me up to your bedroom,” she tells him and he doesn’t need more. His hands move down to the back of her thigh as he urges her to jump. Her legs wrap around his waist as her lips crash down against his in a passionate, meaningful kiss while he walks up to his bedroom, shutting the world out and giving all of him to the woman he is falling hard for.

NEXT PART (coming on 6th of february)

TAGLIST

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